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literaryvein-reblogs · 22 days ago

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Writing Notes: Herbal Remedies

References (Capsules & Powders; Compresses & Lotions; Creams; Decoctions; Infused Oils; Infusions; Ointments; Poultices; Syrups; Tinctures; Tonic Wines; Other Preparations)

CAPSULES & POWDERS

Powdered herbs are most easily taken as capsules but can be sprinkled on food or taken with water.

Externally, they can be applied as a dusting powder to the skin or mixed with tinctures as a poultice.

COMPRESSES & LOTIONS

Lotions are water-based herbal preparations such as infusions, decoctions, or diluted tinctures that are used to bathe inflamed or irritated skin.

Compresses are cloths soaked in a lotion and held against the skin.

Both are simple ways to use herbs externally and can be very effective in relieving swelling, bruising, and pain, soothing inflammation and headaches, and cooling fevers.

CREAMS

Making a cream involves combining oil or fat and water in an emulsion. If the process is rushed, the oil and water may separate.

Unlike ointments, creams blend with the skin and have the advantage of being cooling and soothing while at the same time allowing the skin to breathe and sweat naturally.

They can, however, deteriorate quite quickly and are best stored in dark, airtight jars in a refrigerator.

DECOCTIONS

Roots, bark, twigs, and berries usually require a more forceful treatment than leaves or flowers to extract their medicinal constituents. A decoction involves simmering these tougher parts in boiling water.

Fresh or dried plant material may be used and should be cut or broken into small pieces before decocting. Like infusions, decoctions can be taken hot or cold.

INFUSED OILS

Infusing an herb in oil allows its active, fat-soluble ingredients to be extracted; hot infused oils are simmered, while cold infused oils are heated naturally by the sun.

Both types of oil can be used externally as massage oils or added to creams and ointments.

Infused oil should not be confused with essential oil, which is an active constituent naturally present in a plant and has specific medicinal properties and a distinct aroma.

Essential oil may be added to an infused oil to increase its medicinal efficacy

INFUSIONS

An infusion is the simplest way to prepare the more delicate aerial parts of plants, especially leaves and flowers, for use as a medicine or as a revitalizing or relaxing drink.

It is made in a similar way to tea, using either a single herb or a combination of herbs, and may be drunk hot or cold.

OINTMENTS

Ointments contain oils or fats heated with herbs and, unlike creams, contain no water. As a result, ointments form a separate layer on the surface of the skin.

They protect against injury or inflammation of damaged skin and carry active medicinal constituents, such as essential oils, to the affected area.

Useful in conditions such as hemorrhoids or where protection is needed from moisture, as in chapped lips and diaper rash.

POULTICES

A poultice is a mixture of fresh, dried, or powdered herbs that is applied to an affected area.

Used to ease nerve or muscle pains, sprains, or broken bones, and to draw pus from infected wounds, ulcers, or boils.

SYRUPS

Honey and unrefined sugar are effective preservatives.

Can be combined with infusions or decoctions to make syrups and cordials.

They have the additional benefit of having a soothing action, and therefore make a perfect vehicle for cough mixtures as well as relieving sore throats.

With their sweet taste, syrups can disguise the taste of unpalatable herbs and are therefore greatly appreciated by children.

TINCTURES

Tinctures are made by soaking an herb in alcohol. This encourages the active plant constituents to dissolve, giving tinctures a relatively stronger action than infusions or decoctions.

They are convenient to use and last up to 2 years.

Tinctures can be made using a jug and a jelly bag, instead of a wine press. Although mainly used in European, American, and Australian herbal medicine, tinctures play a part in most herbal traditions.

TONIC WINES

Tonic wines are an agreeable way to take strengthening and tonic herbs to increase vitality and improve digestion.

Neither strictly medicinal, nor simply appealing to the palate, they are easy to prepare at home.

Made by steeping tonic herbs in red or white wine for several weeks.

OTHER PREPARATIONS

Steam Inhalations

Steam inhalations are an effective way to clear congestion and relieve sinusitis, hay fever, and bronchial asthma.

The combination of steam and antiseptic ingredients clears the airways throughout the respiratory system.

Gargles & Mouthwashes

Gargles and mouthwashes usually contain astringent herbs, which tighten the mucous membranes of the mouth and throat.

As gargles and mouthwashes are made from infusions, decoctions, or diluted tinctures, they can generally be swallowed for internal treatment. Ensure you do not exceed the daily internal dose of an herb.

Pessaries & Suppositories

Pessaries and suppositories are waxy pellets containing essential oil or fine powder.

They are used when oral medicine is likely to be broken down during digestion before reaching its intended site.

Pessaries are inserted into the vagina and suppositories into the anus, where they melt at body temperature.

The herb is quickly absorbed into the bloodstream, providing fast relief. It is best to buy ready-made suppositories.

Essential Oils

Essential oils can be used in massage to soothe minor aches and pains.

Before use, they should be diluted with a carrier oil as they can irritate the skin.

Essential oils deteriorate rapidly after dilution, so it is best to mix small quantities as you need them.

Baths & Skin Washes

Herbal baths and skin washes can relieve many conditions, including aching limbs and stuffy sinuses.

They are made from diluted essential oils or infusions.

Eyebaths soothe sore, inflamed, or irritated eyes.

Cold Macerations

Heat destroys the active constituents of some herbs.

Thus, a cold maceration might be more appropriate than a decoction.

Juices

The juices extracted from many herbs.

Can be taken internally or applied externally.

Source

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theetherealbloom · 19 days ago

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You Got Me So In Love, I've Never Been This Possessive

Summary: While on a scenic boat trip along the coasts of Malta, you bask in the crystal-clear waters, and laughter with Pedro’s cast and crew. Despite his injured arm keeping him on the boat, Pedro can’t keep his eyes off you.

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Nudity, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Swimming, Bikini, Flirting, Teasing, Cast, Pedro Fell Down The Stairs, ER visit, Hurt-To-Comfort, Mild Spice, Banter, Idk Spanish so the terms might be wrong but I'm trying my best

Word Count: 5K

A/N: GOOD MORNING CHICKENS!!! Y’know how I said there would be a part two? Yup. Also, I know no one asked, but back in High School, I fell down the stairs… A LOT. Like every year for six years. No major bones were broken, only a sprained ankle every time I fell down the stairs, so in a way I guess I was lucky. PSA to always hold the hand railing, and like Pedro said, it can happen to anyone!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Te Quiero by KISS OF LIFE

← Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist |

PASCAL RESIDENCE, CHILE — AFTERNOON

The sun bathed the Pascal family home in a golden glow, the air filled with the scent of freshly baked empanadas and the gentle hum of conversation. You were seated on the patio, your legs tucked under you, watching as Pedro animatedly retold a story from his teenage years. His siblings—Javiera, Lux, and Nicolás—listened with rapt attention, their laughter bubbling over when Pedro’s dad chimed in with his version of events, insisting Pedro had exaggerated again.

“Exaggerated?” Pedro placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “I would never! Everything I say is 100% true and scientifically proven.”

“Scientifically proven to be full of nonsense,” Nicolás teased, earning a round of laughter.

You couldn’t help but grin, soaking in the easy camaraderie of the family. Pedro’s hand found yours under the table, his fingers lacing with yours in a way that felt like second nature. He glanced at you, his dark eyes soft with a love so deep it made your chest tighten.

“Tell them,” Pedro said, turning to you with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “Tell them I’m not lying.”

You bit back a laugh, tilting your head in mock consideration. “Well… the story did sound a bit too good to be true.”

“Et tu, mi amor?” he groaned, but the corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

Javiera, ever the ringleader, stood and declared, “Enough storytelling! Let’s put her to the test. If she’s going to be part of this family, she needs to learn brisca.”

Pedro leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Fair warning: They’ll gang up on you.”

“Good thing I’ve got you on my side,” you murmured, a soft blush rising to your cheeks.

“I’ll always be on your side,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple that sent a shiver down your spine.

A FEW HOURS LATER…

The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard. Pedro had wandered inside to grab more drinks for everyone while you stayed on the patio with Lux, discussing her latest project.

The sound of a crash shattered the peaceful air. You froze, the glass in Lux’s hand slipping and shattering on the ground.

“Pedro!” you gasped, bolting toward the house.

Inside, you found him crumpled at the base of the stairs, his face pale and contorted in pain. Nicolás was already at his side, his hands hovering uncertainly as if afraid to make things worse.

“Call an ambulance!” you shouted, your voice shaking as you knelt beside Pedro.

He looked up at you, his breaths shallow and uneven. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he said through gritted teeth, but his wince betrayed him.

“You’re not okay,” you said, your hands trembling as you gently brushed the hair from his forehead. “What happened?”

“I missed the last step,” he muttered, trying to manage a weak smile. “Guess I’m not as graceful as I thought.”

“Pedro, this isn’t funny,” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes.

Javiera appeared with the phone pressed to her ear, speaking rapidly to the emergency dispatcher. Lux crouched beside you, her face pale as she reached for Pedro’s uninjured hand.

“Help’s on the way,” Javiera assured you, her voice steady despite the panic in her eyes.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited for the ambulance. You kept your focus on Pedro, your hand gripping his tightly. “Just breathe, okay? I’m right here. You’re going to be fine.”

THE ER — EVENING

The antiseptic smell of the hospital hit you as you paced the waiting room, your heart pounding in your chest. Pedro had been whisked away for X-rays, and you felt helpless, the absence of his hand in yours leaving you cold.

When the doctor finally emerged, you rushed to meet him, Javiera and Nicolás close behind.

“Mr. Pascal has a broken arm,” the doctor explained. “It’s a clean break, but he’ll need surgery to set the bone properly. We’re scheduling it for late January.”

Relief and worry collided in your chest. “Can I see him?” you asked, your voice small.

The doctor nodded, and you followed the nurse to Pedro’s room. He was sitting up in bed, his arm in a temporary sling, his face pale but his smile still intact.

“Hey, troublemaker,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

You crossed the room in a few quick steps, perching on the edge of his bed. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” you said, your voice breaking as tears spilled over.

Pedro reached for your hand with his good arm, his thumb brushing soothing circles over your knuckles. “I’m sorry, mi amor,” he murmured, his eyes glistening.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “I thought… I thought something worse happened. I couldn’t breathe until I saw you.”

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice steady despite the pain. “And I’ll be fine. Especially with you by my side.”

You kissed him gently, pouring every ounce of love and relief into the touch. As his lips moved against yours, you felt the fear begin to fade, replaced by the overwhelming gratitude that he was still here with you.

“I’ll take care of you,” you promised, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Pedro smiled, his gaze tender. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, brushing a tear from your cheek. “You deserve the world.”

And in that moment, surrounded by beeping monitors and the sterile walls of the hospital, it felt like nothing else mattered but the two of you.

FORT RICASOLI, MALTA — DAY

The sun was high over Fort Ricasoli, the Mediterranean breeze carrying a salty tang as waves crashed against the nearby shore. The reconstructed Roman Colosseum loomed grandly in the fort, its grandeur a perfect backdrop for the epic Gladiator II production. You stepped out of the transport van, sunglasses shielding your eyes from the bright Maltese sun, a bag slung over your shoulder filled with Pedro’s essentials—medication, snacks, and a cold water bottle you knew he’d try to avoid drinking unless reminded.

As you walked toward the set, Pedro spotted you first, his face lighting up in a way that made your heart ache with affection. He was seated in the shade near the makeup tent, his left arm encased in a royal blue cast that made him look both ridiculous and endearing.

“Hi,” you called, setting your bag down beside him. “I’m here to be your nurse.”

Pedro’s grin widened, his dark eyes softening. “You’re more than my nurse. You’re my lifesaver. And I love you so much.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “How’s the arm?”

“It’s humiliating,” he muttered, holding up the cast as if it were a mark of disgrace. “Everyone keeps staring at it. Or laughing. Or both.”

“There’s nothing humiliating about needing help once in a while, my love,” you said gently, brushing a curl from his forehead. “Besides, it’s a great conversation starter.”

“Oh, yeah. Real smooth. ‘Hi, I’m Pedro Pascal, and I fell down a flight of stairs like a medieval jester.’”

You smothered a laugh just as Joseph Quinn sauntered by, pausing dramatically to give Pedro an exaggerated salute. “How’s the mighty warrior today? Still battling gravity, I see.”

“Go away,” Pedro groaned, waving his good arm dismissively.

“You’re a walking PSA now,” Fred Hechinger added as he passed. “Don’t text and walk down stairs, kids!”

Denzel Washington approached next, shaking his head with mock solemnity. “And here I thought I was the one who’d pull a stunt like that.”

“Traitors,” Pedro muttered, pulling you closer as if you could shield him from the teasing.

Coco, his ever-sassy hair stylist, smirked as she fixed his curls. “Just make sure she doesn’t trip over your ego next.”

“Coco!” Pedro whined, but his cheeks flushed, his pout making him look boyish and undeniably adorable.

Ridley Scott ambled over, his tone a mix of concern and exasperation. “Take it easy, Pedro. You’re not 25 anymore.”

“Gee, thanks, Ridley,” Pedro huffed, pulling you against him as if seeking comfort.

The day pressed on, the heat making Pedro’s clinginess somehow both unbearable and heart-meltingly sweet. Despite the steady teasing from the cast and crew, he stuck close to you like a second shadow whenever he wasn’t on set, his blue cast drawing as much attention as his ever-present pout.

During a break, he tugged at your hand, a soft whine slipping from his lips. “Go with me?”

You glanced up from the book you were pretending to read. “Go where?”

“Craft services,” he said, gesturing toward the shaded area where snacks and cold drinks awaited. “I’m starving, and I need moral support.”

“You literally just had a protein bar,” you teased, but stood anyway, slipping your hand into his.

“As long as you hold my hand,” you added with a smirk, letting him lead the way.

His good hand entwined with yours, his thumb brushing lazy circles over your skin as you walked. “You know I’m not letting go, right?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Reaching the craft services tent, Pedro made a beeline for the iced lemonade, his cast making the process comically awkward. You reached over to help him hold the cup steady as he poured, ignoring the amused glances from the crew around you.

“I got it,” he insisted, though his pouty tone betrayed his frustration.

“Sure you do, Mr. Dexterity,” you teased. “Here, let me.”

As you steadied the cup, Paul Mescal appeared beside you, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. “What’s it like being Pedro’s personal assistant and cuddle therapist?”

Pedro narrowed his eyes, his body shifting slightly as if to shield you from Paul’s teasing. “She’s an angel,” he declared, his tone defensive. “Unlike all of you degenerates.”

Paul laughed, grabbing a handful of chips. “Touché.”

Connie Nielsen joined the growing group, her warm smile softening the teasing atmosphere. “An angel with the patience of a saint,” she agreed. “He’s lucky to have you.”

You squeezed Pedro’s hand, glancing up at him with a playful glint in your eye. “Oh, I know.”

Pedro leaned down, his voice low and sweet in your ear. “Remind me to buy you something shiny and expensive later.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you whispered back, brushing a kiss to his cheek just as Coco walked by, her ever-present smirk firmly in place.

“Are we making out by the lemonade now?” she quipped, adjusting Pedro’s wig as she passed. “Just don’t knock over the drink dispenser, Casanova.”

Pedro groaned, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching, betraying his amusement.

When Pedro was shooting, you stayed nearby, perched under an umbrella with a bottle of water and a timer set for his next dose of medication. He’d been restless all morning, constantly checking in between takes to make sure you were still there.

The moment the director called cut, Pedro scanned the area until his eyes landed on you. A small smile tugged at his lips as he made a beeline toward you, his costume slightly dusty from the action sequence.

“Hydrate,” you ordered the moment he reached you, holding out the water bottle.

He wrinkled his nose but took it, his good hand struggling to unscrew the cap. You wordlessly reached over to help, earning a sheepish look from him.

“You know,” he said after a long sip, “you’re bossier than Ridley.”

“You love it,” you countered, wiping the sweat from his brow with a small towel you’d tucked into your bag.

Pedro’s lips curved into a soft smile, his gaze lingering on you. “I do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “A little too much.”

Your heart squeezed at the tenderness in his tone, and you reached up to brush a stray curl from his forehead. “Good. Now go back to work. Ridley’s glaring at us.”

He glanced over his shoulder, spotting the director gesturing for him to return. “Fine,” he grumbled, but not before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

As he walked back toward the set, Ridley shook his head, a faint smile on his face. “That woman of yours has you wrapped around her little finger.”

Pedro shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t I know it.”

THE XARA PALACE RELAIS & CHÂTEAUX, MALTA — EVENING

The day had taken its toll on both of you, but by the time you returned to the cozy luxury of the hotel suite, Pedro’s exhaustion only seemed to amplify his need for affection. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, he flopped dramatically onto the small couch, casting a forlorn look your way.

“Come here,” he said, his good arm extended toward you like a lifeline.

You chuckled, slipping off your sandals. “I thought you were tired.”

“I am,” he replied, his lips twitching into a pout. “But I’ll sleep better if you’re right here.”

Shaking your head fondly, you joined him on the couch, only to be pulled down against his side the moment you were close enough.

“It’s too hot for this,” you teased, trying—and failing—to push against his firm hold.

“Don’t care,” Pedro murmured, nuzzling into the curve of your neck as if you were the only source of comfort in the world. “You make everything better.”

You sighed softly, your resolve melting as your fingers found their way into his curls. They were still slightly damp from his post-shoot shower, and you gently combed through them, marveling at how they always seemed to spring back into place.

“I think that’s the heatstroke talking,” you quipped, though your voice was warm with affection.

“No,” he said, his voice muffled against your skin. “That’s the love of my life talking.”

Your hand stilled for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you like a gentle wave. You pulled back slightly to look at him, but Pedro didn’t let you get far. His warm brown eyes met yours, brimming with sincerity that made your breath catch.

“You’re insufferable,” you said, though the tremor in your voice betrayed how deeply his words had affected you.

“And you’re perfect,” he countered, his tone so soft and certain it made your heart ache in the best way.

Your cheeks warmed, and you leaned down to press a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re lucky I love you,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his skin.

Pedro grinned, his good arm tightening around you as he pulled you even closer. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

For a while, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the air conditioning blending with the distant sounds of the Maltese evening outside. Pedro’s breathing began to slow, his head resting heavily against your shoulder as he drifted off. His cast was awkwardly propped up on his chest, and you carefully adjusted a pillow beneath it, not wanting him to wake up sore.

As you gazed down at him, his face relaxed and peaceful in sleep, your heart swelled with a familiar ache—one born of overwhelming love. He might’ve been clingy and dramatic, prone to complaints about his cast and the heat, but he was also tender and selfless, with a way of making you feel like the most cherished person in the world.

You traced the curve of his jaw with the tips of your fingers, marveling at how even in his sleep, his hold on you never loosened. He was steady and constant in a way that made you feel safe, loved, and utterly at home.

He might’ve fallen down the stairs, but it felt like you were the one falling—deeper in love with him every single day.

Later that night, as the two of you lay tangled together in the king-sized bed, Pedro stirred, his voice groggy but laced with warmth.

“Are you still awake?”

“Barely,” you murmured, your head resting against his uninjured shoulder. “Why?”

He shifted slightly, his fingers grazing over your arm in lazy circles. “Just wanted to say… thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me. For putting up with me being clingy. For loving me even when I’m ridiculous,” he said, his voice soft but earnest.

You smiled in the darkness, pressing a kiss to his chest. “It’s not putting up with you, Pedro. It’s just loving you. And it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

His breath hitched, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his words carrying the weight of unspoken emotion.

“You deserve everything,” you replied, your voice firm despite the tears prickling at your eyes.

Pedro’s arms tightened around you, and in that moment, the world outside the four walls of your suite seemed to fade away. There was only the two of you, tangled together in love and gratitude, the promise of another day together stretching out before you like a gift.

And as you drifted off to sleep, cradled in his embrace, you couldn’t imagine a place you’d rather be.

COASTS OF MALTA — MORNING

The morning sun bathed the harbor in a soft, golden glow as you and Pedro stepped onto the pristine deck of the yacht, greeted by the lively chatter of his castmates and the crew. The day promised adventure—an exploration of Malta’s dazzling coastlines, including the famed Blue Lagoon, Crystal Lagoon, and the secretive caves on Comino. The air smelled of salt and freedom, and the water, impossibly blue and inviting, stretched out like a gem-laden carpet before you.

Pedro lingered close to you, his blue cast slung in a casual sling, though it didn’t stop him from giving your hand a light squeeze. He leaned down, his voice low and teasing.

"Don’t get too excited," he murmured with a grin, his dark eyes gleaming. "You’ll make me look bad."

You bumped your shoulder into his, rolling your eyes. "I can’t help it if I’m more fun than you."

"More fun? Or more distracting?" His gaze flicked briefly to the bikini peeking out from your cover-up, his expression bordering on predatory before he quickly masked it with a playful smirk.

“Behave, Pascal,” you teased, your cheeks warming under his intense stare.

As the boat cruised toward its first stop, the Blue Lagoon, the mood was light and cheerful. Connie and Fred lounged near the bow, animatedly swapping stories with the crew, their laughter carrying over the soft sound of the waves. Coco flitted around like a hummingbird with her camera, capturing candid shots of the lively group. Near the railing, Paul was attempting to teach Denzel a ridiculous dance move, the two of them tripping over their own feet and causing more chaos than rhythm.

You stood near Pedro, feeling the sun’s warmth on your skin, the gentle breeze teasing at your cover-up. A playful grin spread across your face as you untied the knot at your waist, sliding the fabric off and tossing it onto a nearby lounge chair. The vibrant bikini beneath was perfectly chosen—bright and bold against your skin, hugging your curves in a way that made you feel confident and beautiful.

Pedro, seated comfortably in the shade with his injured arm resting on a cushion, froze mid-sip of his drink. His gaze locked onto you, his eyes darkening as they traced every inch of your form. Appreciation was clear in his expression, but it was the simmering heat in his stare that sent a thrill down your spine.

You stretched your arms over your head, feigning oblivion to his attention as you joined Coco and Paul in their antics. The movement made your waist curve just enough to draw a quiet groan from Pedro’s lips, which didn’t go unnoticed by Coco. She smirked, leaning down to whisper as she passed him.

“Subtle,” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement.

Pedro didn’t even attempt to hide his grin. His eyes stayed glued to you as he shrugged, unapologetic. “Can you blame me?”

Coco snorted. “Not one bit. But maybe cool it unless you want everyone else to notice how thirsty you are.”

“Let them,” Pedro muttered, mostly to himself. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he watched you laugh with Paul, the way your body moved under the bright sun making it nearly impossible for him to look away.

When you caught his eye and shot him a playful wink, his good hand flexed against the armrest of his chair, the urge to pull you back to him almost too strong to resist.

Later, as you leaned over the edge of the boat, peering down at the water with Paul pointing out fish, Pedro’s voice rumbled low behind you.

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

You turned to find him standing close, his cast resting awkwardly at his side. “I am. The water’s beautiful,” you said with a smile, but his eyes weren’t on the water.

“They’re not the only thing,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist.

Heat bloomed on your cheeks, but you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips. “Pedro Pascal,” you teased, stepping closer. “Are you flirting with me on a boat in front of all your castmates?”

“Flirting?” He scoffed, his voice rich with amusement. “I’m just admiring. Can’t a man admire his girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” you repeated, arching a brow.

He smirked, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost over your skin. “The girlfriend,” he corrected, his voice dropping into a tone that sent a shiver racing through you despite the heat.

You bit your lip, glancing around at the others, who were too distracted to notice the charged moment. “Behave yourself,” you whispered, though your heart raced at the way his good hand brushed lightly against your hip.

He grinned, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m trying, but you’re not making it easy, sweetheart.”

The way he said it, rough and low, had your stomach doing flips. The teasing sparkle in his eyes told you he knew exactly the effect he was having on you—and he wasn’t the least bit sorry about it.

When the boat anchored near the Blue Lagoon, you practically bounced with excitement. “I’m going in!”

Pedro chuckled as you grabbed your snorkeling gear, pausing to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Try not to miss me too much,” you teased before hopping off the boat with an elegant dive.

“Not possible,” he called after you, his voice tinged with laughter.

The water was cool and crystal clear, every ripple catching the sunlight like scattered diamonds. You swam alongside Coco and Paul, laughing as he tried to outswim everyone only to splash clumsily when Coco teased him about his lack of grace. Schools of fish darted around you, their silvery bodies glimmering in the lagoon’s shallows, and the thrill of the moment made you forget the world beyond the sparkling blue waters.

Pedro watched from the deck, his good hand cradling a drink as his cast rested on his lap. He smiled softly, his heart swelling at the sight of you. You were so effortlessly kind, so radiant, laughing and splashing with his friends as if you’d known them your whole life.

“She’s really something,” Ridley remarked as he joined Pedro at the shaded table.

“Don’t I know it,” Pedro replied, his voice warm with pride.

“She’s good for you,” Ridley said simply, his tone laced with a rare softness.

Pedro glanced at the director, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. She’s my soulmate.”

Later, you clambered back onto the boat, droplets of water clinging to your skin, sparkling in the sunlight as they traced lazy paths down your arms and legs. Your grin was infectious, the kind of radiant joy that could light up an entire room—or, in this case, the deck of the boat. Pedro’s eyes were glued to you, as though the rest of the world had faded into the background.

“Having fun?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement but warm with affection.

“The best,” you replied breathlessly, grabbing a towel and wringing out your hair. “You should’ve come in with us. The water is incredible.”

He raised his cast dramatically, pulling a mock grimace. “In case you forgot, I’m a bit handicapped here.”

“Oh, poor baby,” you teased, crouching beside him. You leaned in to press a playful kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just long enough to make him sigh. “Next time, I’ll stay on the boat with you. We can sulk together.”

Pedro’s good hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer before you could stand. “Don’t you dare,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “Watching you have fun out there is the next best thing to being in the water myself.”

You arched a brow, motioning to your bikini with a teasing grin. “You mean you like the view.”

Pedro’s lips curved into a slow, devilish smirk. His mouth brushed your ear as he whispered, “I love the view.”

The heat of his words sent a shiver down your spine, making your cheeks flush. You swatted at his chest playfully before standing and tossing the towel over your shoulder. “Careful, Pascal. You’re not supposed to overheat with that cast on.”

The boat anchored near the caves on Comino, the turquoise water shimmering like liquid glass. Pedro waved you off with a mock sternness, insisting you go explore while he stayed behind.

“I’ll hold down the fort,” he said, settling back into his chair with a small smirk. “Don’t get lost in there.”

You rolled your eyes, blowing him a kiss before diving into the water with Paul and Fred. The group swam toward the darkened entrance of the caves, their laughter echoing off the limestone walls. Inside, the sunlight filtered through cracks, casting dancing patterns on the rocky surfaces.

Pedro, stuck on the boat, didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. His gaze followed you like a shadow, lingering on the curve of your body as you moved effortlessly through the water. Every so often, you glanced back at the boat, catching him watching you. He didn’t even pretend to look away, his expression soft, adoring, and entirely unguarded.

When you returned, dripping wet and exhilarated, you plopped down beside him with a dramatic sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“You’ve been staring at me all day,” you teased, your tone light but your heart pounding at the intensity of his attention.

Pedro turned his head slightly, brushing his lips against your temple. “Can you blame me?” he murmured. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You tilted your head to meet his gaze, your hand finding his on the armrest. “You’re laying it on thick today,” you joked, though your voice wavered just slightly.

“It’s the truth,” he countered simply, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.

Your moment was interrupted by Paul’s exaggerated wolf whistle from across the deck. “Get a room, you two!”

Fred chimed in with a loud groan. “Some of us are single and fragile!”

You laughed, your head falling back briefly before you turned to Pedro, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “They’re just jealous.”

“Damn right, they are,” Pedro said, leaning in close. “You’re all mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone was playful but sent your pulse racing nonetheless.

Later, as the boat rocked gently in the open waters, you sat on Pedro’s lap, his good arm wrapped securely around your waist. The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold.

“Pedro,” you said softly, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his thigh. “Can we stay like this forever?”

His eyes softened as he looked down at you, his smile tender. “I’d stay here with you forever if I could,” he replied, his voice filled with quiet certainty.

The weight of his words settled over you, grounding you in the moment. You bit your lip, leaning in closer until your noses brushed. “Please just kiss me already.”

Pedro didn’t need to be asked twice. His lips captured yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, full of unspoken promises and a depth of feeling that took your breath away. His hand splayed across your back, pulling you impossibly closer as the world around you seemed to disappear.

When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a soft laugh. “I think you might be my soulmate,” he said, his voice a mixture of awe and certainty.

Your eyes searched his, and for a moment, the noise of the others and the gentle lapping of the waves faded entirely. “I think you might be mine too,” you whispered, sealing the moment with another kiss.

Laughter and chatter echoed around you, the boat a hub of joy and togetherness, but for you and Pedro, time seemed to stand still. In his arms, surrounded by the beauty of Malta and the warmth of his love, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.

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wanderlustrachelblog · 4 months ago

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The Ultimate Bath Detox - 100% Organic and Natural Detox

[et_pb_section][et_pb_row][et_pb_column type=”4_4″][et_pb_text]A bath detox is essential for our bodies to relax, rejuvenate, and overcome illnesses. An organic and natural detox is very important as our bodies absorb what it comes into contact with. You want to make sure you are not using harmful chemicals, additives or dyes in your bath water. (The chemicals in our bath water is a whole other…

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irootfortheunderdogs · 1 year ago

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Master Bath - Contemporary Bathroom Large trendy master beige tile and mosaic tile porcelain tile and beige floor bathroom photo with beige walls and a hinged shower door

#soaking tub #chrome hardware #natural light #bathrobes #neutral #white bath robes #skylights

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motorsportbarbie13 · 28 days ago

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The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Wedding Night

In which you and Max spend your first night together as newlyweds.

Warnings: smut. this is all smut, minimal plot. talk of babies, breeding kink, birth control, lots of 'my wife' and 'my husband' use. i'm feral tbh Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.6k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding - Master List

“Let’s get you out of this dress. I want to see what’s been under it all day.” Max whispers against your shoulder later that night when you’re alone in the villa. His fingers trail up your bare arm, igniting sparks of heat in their wake.

You take Max’s hand, leading him towards the bedroom of your sprawling villa, eyes dark with need. As you walk, you let one of the thin straps fall away before slipping out of the second one. “I need help with the zipper, Max.” You say, voice a husky whisper in the quiet room.

Behind you, Max is looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, the hunger in his eyes near feral. He reaches for the back of your dress without any more prompting, shaking hands dragging the zipper down painfully slow. Reaching up, you tug the bun out of your hair, enjoying the sound that Max makes when your hair tumbles down over your shoulders in a cascade of waves.

Your wedding dress pools at your feet, a pile of lace and satin that you step out of, making your way towards the bed. Max just stands there, watching you go, hungry look on his face.

Outside, the sun has fully disappeared below the horizon, leaving the villa bathed in the golden yellow glow of the interior lights. The salty air flutters through the open back doors, the crash of the ocean creating a soft soundtrack to your first night as a married couple.

You crawl onto the bed wearing only the white bits of lace lingerie that you’d bought specifically for tonight and when you turn back to face Max, you’re struck by the look of sheer lust on your husband’s face. Husband. You still were getting used to working your tongue around that word. It was wild, how strange but natural the word felt falling from your lips.

“Are you going to leave me here alone, husband?” Gazing up at Max through thick lashes, you smirk before catching your bottom lip between your teeth.

Max seems to snap into action then, stalking towards you as he unbuttons his linen shirt that suddenly feels to constricting. “Open those legs for me, lifeje. I want to see how good my wife tastes.”

A thrill zings through you at being called his wife and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips in response.

Max joins you on the bed, kneeling before you between your open legs. He bites his lip as he reaches down to slip his fingers under the band of the bits of lace that covers you. “So pretty.” He murmurs before he shifts his weight forward, leaning in for a kiss.

“Max.” You sigh against his lips when he kisses you, whining a bit when he licks into your mouth.

“Yes, wife?” He mumbles, mouth not daring to leave yours as his fingers dip beneath the fabric at your hips. He chuckles darkly when his fingers reach their destination, finding you soaking wet for him already.

You arch against him, pleasure already burning deep in your core at just his touch. “Can’t believe I’m your wife.”

“Fuck, that sounds so good.” The rasp of his voice sends goosebumps skittering down your spine, despite the room being warm from the day’s sun and heat. “I’m so lucky you chose me to be your husband, schatje. Let me show you how lucky I am.”

“Please.” You beg against him, hips rocking up against his body in an attempt to get some relief from the aching need that has been thrumming inside you since you said your vows earlier in the evening.

“Lay back and let your husband do all the work tonight, okay love? Can you do that for me?” Max trails open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, stopping to suck little reminders of your wedding night into your skin so you remember tonight for days to come.

“Anything for you, baby.” You manage, the sensations of Max’s lips on your skin and fingers working over your clit almost too much to take already.

He trails more kisses down your body, sucking purple bruises into your skin as he makes his way to his destination, enjoying your sharp intake of breath every time he nips at you. “You like watching me with my head between her thighs, don’t you?” He asks when his head dips between your legs, hands finally pulling off the lace covering your pussy.

The pleasure of having his hands and mouth on your body sends the buzzing in your head to another level, so loud you can’t focus on anything beyond Max’s touch and voice. You idly wonder if it’s possible to come from just hearing Max call you his wife over and over. It’s an experiment you’re willing to run.

When his tongue splits you open for him for the first time, your hips snap up off the bed in a needy reaction. He slings one of his arms over your hips, pinning you to the down comforter. Your hands sift through his thick hair, tugging on it when he dives in. Long, languid licks lap up the mess you’ve already made for him and the way Max works you over with his mouth nearly sends you into another universe.

“I can’t believe I get to eat you out for the rest of my fucking life.” He muses, barely coming up for air. The only response you can muster in your haze of lust is a choked sound of surrender, a sigh of relief when his tongue finally presses against your clit for the first time. “Oh, my good girl. My pretty little wife. Do you like that?”

“Yes.” You hiss, back arching even more into his waiting mouth.

Stars explode behind your eyelids when he pulls your clit between his teeth, the sharp bite drawing the most erotic moan that Max has ever heard out of you. From his spot between your legs, Max slips first one and then two fingers into your wet little cunt as you continue your grind against his mouth. “That’s it, use me to get yourself off.” His voice is muffled by his refusal to remove his head from between your legs but you hear him well enough.

You feel that telltale sign of liquid fire pouring down your spine as Max works you over with both his mouth and fingers. Your entire consciousness eddies down to this one single place, all that matters is that Max never stops and you never have to go another day without his mouth on you or fingers inside you. “Don’t stop.” You beg, blindly reaching for anything to hold onto, eventually landing one hand in his hair and the other fisting the white sheets beneath you. “I love you so much baby, fuck. Holy fuck.” You sob, hips grinding up into his mouth in a desperate search for relief.

You tumble over the crest of your orgasm so quickly it hits you like a freight train, your hands fisting Max’s hair so tightly the pain mixes with his pleasure delightfully. His name tumbles out of your mouth so quickly it’s unintelligible babble. All Max does is hold his tongue against your clit and fingers deep inside you as you spasm against him. “That’s it, baby. Look at my sweet wife coming all over me. You look so pretty coming around my fingers, schatje.”

He talks you through the rest of your orgasm until you’re quiet beneath him, breath coming in short spurts as you try to recover. “Max.” Seems to be the only word you can find in your vocabulary, which suits your husband just fine. If that’s the only word you can say, he’s glad it’s his name and nothing else.

Max crawls up your body when your climax finally subsides, face glistening with your slick mess. He licks his lips, all swollen and red after licking you so good. You look so effortlessly gorgeous beneath him, he has to take a moment before he do anything else.

“I have another present for you.” You whisper when you regain the ability to speak.

Max cocks a brow at you. “I thought we weren’t doing any more gifts, little miss ‘I hate when you spoil me’.” He teases, biting at your neck.

You roll your eyes while lifting your hands to frame his face. “Remember when I went to see the doctor a last week?”

Max nods, remembering how you came home in a significant amount of pain afterwards. You had refused to give you any details behind the appointment though, just saying that you were due to get your period soon and it was all hormones. “Yeah, and I’m still annoyed you wouldn’t tell me why you went.”

“I had my IUD removed.” You murmur, eyes searching his for his immediate reaction.

“You…what?” Max’s heart stalls as he draws back to get a better look at your face.

This had been a topic of discussion between you two before, of course. Trying to decide if and when to start a family was a huge decision and both you and Max had decided that you wanted to start trying sooner rather than later ages ago but this? This was a complete surprise.

You worry at your lip, wondering if you went too far without consulting him. “I had my doctor take out my IUD.”

Something feral and animalistic snaps in Max at the thought of tonight being the night he finally puts a baby in you. If he had had his way, you’d be round with his baby ages ago but you had insisted on wanting to do it the ‘right’ way by waiting until after you had been married for a bit before even trying. “That is the best wedding present you could have ever gotten me, schat.”

Relief washes over you in waves when his words register. “Yeah?”

Max grabs at your hips, tugging you closer to him before kissing you with an intensity that sends your head spinning.

“Now, turn over.” You do as he orders, a shiver of anticipation shooting up through your spine. “Ass up. Yeah, just like that baby. Ass in the air so I can fuck a baby deep into you.” He growls.

If removing your IUD was all that it took to get Max to absolutely manhandle you like this, you would have gotten it removed sooner, you decide as he gives your bare ass a few short slaps while you wriggle back against him. Max pumps his aching cock with his hand a few times as you prop yourself up on your elbows.

“You look so pretty like this, just waiting for me to take you from behind. You like this don’t you? Want me to fill you up, baby?” He leans forward, whispering the filthy words in your ear, causing you to whimper in response.

You should be embarrassed by the needy, high pitched whine that tumbles from your throat when the tip of his cock finds your aching entrance, anticipation twisting deep in your stomach. Max latches onto your hips with both hands, letting out a guttural moan when he sinks into you, the slick wetness from your cunt practically swallowing him whole. “Fuck.” He shudders, fingertips digging bruises into your hips.

For a few moments, Max has to steady himself or this entire thing is going to be over in 2 strokes. The blinding tightness of your pussy distracts him from all other sensation and thought as he focuses on how warm you are around him. You struggle against his size, the stretch from him filling you up burning in the most satisfying way possible. From his position behind you, Max is able to hit that spot deep inside your walls that sends all coherent thought out of your head. “Max.” You whine, wiggling your hips back and forth in a desperate plea for movement. “Max, please. Please fuck me.”

“Fuck I love it when you beg for my cock.” He grunts while pulling out of you before thrusting deeper again. Max’s eyes drop down to where you’re joined together in the most intimate way and the sight he sees nearly sends him over the edge. “We look so good together, shatje. Look so good gripping me like that.”

Max slides in and out of you, hands gripping your hips to control the pace as he settles into filling you up over and over.

You pant beneath him, back arching up in sheer bliss as you push your ass back against him so he’s forced to plunge even deeper inside you. “God, you’re so deep Max. So big, filling me up.”

“My wife likes being all messy for me, doesn’t she? Wants me to fuck a baby into her the first night we’re married, huh?”

Just the thought of you walking around, belly swollen with his baby has Max’s hips snapping even quicker against you. For several moments the sounds of wet flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, interrupted only by your needy moans and Max’s grunts. He desperately ruts into you as he leans forward, draping his large frame over yours. Max wraps his fist around your long hair, creating a ponytail with his hands and yanks so hard your vision blurs from the delicious blur of pleasure colliding with pain.

White hot heat pours down Max’s spine and he knows he’s not going to last much longer like this. The way your silky soft hair wraps around his calloused hands, the sounds that you’re making under him, the scent of your arousal wafting through the air, all of those sensations combine to create an overwhelming sensory overload.

“Oh my God. Max. Cum in me, please.” You beg, sending your husband hurtling even closer the edge of his own release as he feels you spasm around him, velvet vice like grip clamping down on his cock. “Fuck a baby into me, please, Max.” You’re babbling now, a melty mess of need and desire to feel your husband’s cum dripping down your thigh.

Something fractures in Max at how utterly fucked out you sound and everything goes white behind his shuttered eyes. The moan that rumbles through him sends you over the edge for a third time that night and you’re so exhausted and overstimulated having not nearly enough time to recover from the second one Max fucked you to. When he spills into you, the white hot ropes coating your walls, you let you the neediest whimpers of the night. The way he feels buried deep inside you combined with the open mouthed kisses he’s showering on your back and shoulders sends you off into an exhausted space that you hope you never return from.

With Max done and still draped over you, body heavy on top of yours, your elbows finally give out and you collapse into the mattress, body sprawling beneath Max’s. Neither of you can move for several moments, the heat of what just happened has exhaustion seeping into your bones.

The catastrophic emptiness that you feel when Max does pull out of you has you near tears it’s so unnerving. When you flip over, tired sighs falling from your lips, Max immediately pulls you into him, fingers dancing down between your legs. You jolt when he stuffs three of his fingers into your overly sensitive pussy. “Don’t want any of that to go to waste, now do we.” He chuckles as he buries his head in the crook of your neck.

A sore sort of pleasant exhaustion takes over your body as you wriggle back against the warmth of your husband’s body. “I love you.” You sigh, eyes drooping heavily as Max reaches behind him to switch the bedside light off, plunging the entire bedroom into darkness.

“I love you too, wife. Always.” Max’s response is the last thing you hear before drifting off into a deep fucked out sleep that has you passed out until late the next morning.

tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @samantha-chicago @chlmtfilms

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smut

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another-lost-mc · 8 months ago

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Shower Thoughts: Their bathing habits, with and without you.

Featuring: The Demon Brothers x gn!Reader

NSFW // Content: Domestic fluff and non-explicit smut. Sharing a bath/shower together; sexual and non-sexual touching; mentions of teasing, semi-public sex (showering together in the RAD locker room), penetration (Reader receiving).

A/N: Shaking off the rust. I blame the new Nightmare cards by the way. I wanted to write this for the OCs and figured I should show some of the others some love too. Like always, my fav bias is showing. (Most of Asmo's section is based on things that occur in the bath scene of Desperation.)

LUCIFER

Showering is part of his morning routine - he wants to look and feel his best, his pride won't settle for anything less. (Plus, it helps wake him up for mornings when coffee alone won't do the trick.)

Baths are a rare luxury for him. Ideally, he'll have the house (and your company) all to himself so he can soak in the fragrant bubbles without worrying about what his brothers are getting up to.

(The fact that they're not home and loose in the Devildom is just as worrying, please try to distract him.)

He's not against the idea of shower sex, but it can be cramped and awkward. He would rather tease you with gentle, lingering touches that leave you both a little hot and desperate before leading you to bed where he can enjoy you properly. He's surprisingly unconcerned about getting his bedsheets wet when it means having you naked and willing underneath him as soon as possible.

MAMMON

Mammon usually showers at night. He'd rather have the extra time to sleep in the mornings before class. If he has to work or has a photoshoot, he's definitely showering before bed - he and his bedding are a mess from sticky, gel-caked hair and the eye makeup he didn't remove properly if he doesn't.

He doesn't usually take baths - too boring, too slow - but if you like taking baths...well.

Whether he's in the shower with you or the tub with you, he's open for anything and everything you might want to do. Even an innocent suggestion for a romantic shower or bath together turns dirty quickly when his eyes and hands start to roam across so much exposed, wet skin.

LEVIATHAN

For a self-proclaimed otaku, his showering habits aren't that bad.

Sure, maybe before you came along, he spent less time worrying about his grooming and personal hygiene and more time worrying about his idols' stream schedules and pre-sale ticket dates for the various movies or concerts he wanted to see.

However, you're here now and you're important to him, so whether he wants to admit it or not, that changes things. If he wants you to hang out in his room for hours at a time gaming or binge-watching anime, both him and his room need to be in guest-ready shape.

He showers more often when he's been cooped in his room on the sofa or in his fashionable-but-not-functional gaming chair that makes his back sweat. Even a quick cool-off rinse in the shower is enough to leave him looking and feeling refreshed which is perfect - he hopes he can convince you to cuddle with him in his tub after.

Maybe it's his natural affinity for water, but he enjoys showering or bathing equally. It's tricky when most tubs aren't big enough for him to spread out with his tail out too, but thankfully they're big enough for you to fit in the tub with him which is just as good - better, even!

He's shy with you in the shower or tub. He prefers to stand behind you so he's not tempted to stare at your chest (or lower). No one touches him as gently or with more care as you do. And the way you run your hands along the scales of his tail or his neck...he's going to try and hide his twitching erection from you and hope you don't say anything if you notice it. He can't help how good you make him feel, but he's not always confident enough to return the favour.

If you want him to touch you, you'll probably have to explicitly ask him to - and wouldn't you know it, your hands resting on his while you guide them to move over your body is one of many acts of intimacy he ends up craving from you.

SATAN

He showers in the morning. He's one of the few student council members that wears his uniform properly and I think he wants the rest of him to look and smell good too.

He enjoys a nice bath once in a while. Maybe not as much as Asmo, but they're a semi-regular part of his routine. He can load up the bath tray with a book, even a cup of coffee or snack if he's feeling peckish that night; time passes in a blue as he soaks away some of the stress that burdens him. If you join him for a bath, he'd love to read to you or simply hold you against his chest while music streams from his D.D.D. nearby.

Showers are useful if he's in a rush, or maybe he just wants to rinse off the day's grime (especially if he was at the club or in a fight). Or perhaps he's not in a rush after all, judging by the way he ushers you into the bathroom with him and tugs at your clothing so you can join him under the warm spray.

Whether he simply wants to melt under your fingers as you work suds into his hair and across his body, or if your naked body so close to his is too much temptation to ignore, know that you're probably the only one who gets to see him - all of him - exposed this way.

ASMODEUS

It's no secret that the Avatar of Lust adores his private bathroom, with its high ceiling and numerous cupboards full of fluffy towels and bottles full of the most expensive haircare and body wash and massage oils that Grimm can buy.

His luxurious tub - if you can call it that, considering it's bigger than any hot tub you've ever been in before - is full of fragrant, crystal-clear water that Asmo adds scented oils and skin-softening potions to. No matter how long you bathe together, the water remains clean and warm (there's a handy spell for that).

Asmo loves the intimacy of pampering you and having you do the same for him. It's almost magical, the way he massages you with slow, rhythmic strokes as he washes you with beauty products he personally selects. He considers your preferences above his own so that everything he brings into the bath is scented with your favourite fragrant notes. If you share his bed that night, he can smell you on his pillow and sheets long after you've parted ways.

Naturally, once he's spent his time spoiling you with his tender touches and whispered affection, he's desperate to have your hands on him next.

Bathing doesn't always have to lead to more than soft, teasing touches. He's not against the idea - it wouldn't be the first time his fingers teased between your legs while he nuzzled the back of your neck and nipped at your ear - but this sort of comfort is like divinity to him. It's a sort of worship he offers you that he's offered no one else before, and no matter how much the outside world demands your attention (or his), this is one rare opportunity where you can truly be alone together.

BEELZEBUB

Beel's shower routine is fairly simple. 1. Shower after Fangol practice or games. 2. Shower after eating at a buffet-style restaurant. 3. Shower before bed if nothing else applies.

Of course, Beel learns that there's a certain charm to showering with you too. He used to complain the communal shower he shares with his siblings is a bit too cramped for his liking, and with you it's even worse, but that's simply a convenient excuse to press himself against you while he hardens against your back, or he cages you against the wall while his arms block everything else from view.

(The open showers in the locker room at the Fangol pitch are fun in their own way when post-victory showers with Beel turn frisky from giddy excitement and too much adrenaline to burn.)

Showering is simply a part of his routine, but like most things he does, Beel thinks they're more enjoyable when he can entice you to join him.

BELPHEGOR

Belphie's not necessarily lazy - he just prefers to spend his time and energy doing things that are important to him. It's not his fault if that very short list can be summarized as sleeping and spending time with you.

Sleeping is most comfortable when he's clean from the day's sweat and smells - the last thing he wants to do is ruin the attic's cozy little nest by crawling into bed smelling like anyone else but him and you. That means if he's going to shower before bed, he's dragging you with him if you haven't had one already.

Belphie might not be lazy, but that doesn't mean he won't use every trick in the book to convince you to touch him and pamper him as much as possible. He whines that he's too sleepy to fiddle with all the buttons of his RAD blazer, and he smirks like a satisfied cat while you huff at his ridiculousness and help undress him anyway.

(He knows you indulge him because you like it too - did you think he wouldn't notice the way your eyes roam his bare chest or the way your fingers twitch excitedly when you reach for his belt?)

Shower or bath sex is a bit messy and not as relaxing as he would like - the tiles are hard and cool against your back, it's hard to prep you properly in the tub as water sloshes against the sides and spills over the floor. It's inconvenient and not the sexiest experience in his opinion.

However. The shower is an excellent place to tease you with an innocent pout on his lips and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Lips trail lazily along whatever bare, wet skin they can reach while greedy fingers prepare you for something bigger once you're finally in bed together, moving together lazily in the sheets and putting off cleaning the mess until morning.

(And even if Belphie gets a little carried away in the shower as he stretches you with his fingers or his mouth, or possibly his cock if he's that riled up, the clean-up has never been easier.)