روايات وقصص ضمن Coffee Mugs On Blue Bloods

They both nodded to me as I entered. I grabbed a clean wine glass and a coffee mug from the hutch. Walking over to the barrels I filled the mug halfway full. Grabbing the wine glass I walked down the isles of werewolves. All shackled to the wall some with iv lines hanging from them draining their blood into bags for later and some resting and rebuilding their stock. A woman of maybe twenty five caught Braxton’s interest. I shut the line off to the bag and rerouted it into my glass.

Afterall I am a Lockhart, they would definitely find out and when they do, they would surely kill me. I was shaking like a leaf, as the machine made loud whirring sounds. It went on for a minute, before it began to spurt out the blood into the vials, only a small part, the very top part of my blood in the vials turned out blue.

he mumbled under his breath as Mal sat beside him with a smug look on his face. Trying to be the better man, Sean set a metal mug on the counter in front of Mal. “This is for you. I heard you were here and thought you’d need this…” Unscrewing the top, Mal looked up in shock. Blood. “Where did you get this?” Sean didn’t blink an eye when Claire set mugs of coffee for the guys and took a sip. “A friend. You’re welcome, by the way.” Claire sat back and watched as the guys both took a few sips of their drinks before getting straight to the point. “Ok fellas. Time to put your dicks away and talk. Deal?”

“Not to mention if Cameron comes home tired and thirsty and finds out that you have destroyed it again and he has to drink his blood cold, you’re dealing with his temper, not I.” “Good point,” he put the casing back on and slid the machine back onto its shelf. “I’m just… intrigued as to how it works.” “You could attend the courses in town,” she pointed out going to the fridge and retrieving two of the squishy round balls that were the Mer alternative to plastic and contained the blood donations made by the human population. She dropped them into two Mer-crafted mugs. “Put the Mer Microwave to good use and nuke us a snack.”

RIVER BROWN “Ladies” Red So-ho cups lie in front of us. Tall, lithe, with gray eyes flirting with the color blue, Doug stares at us and the cups and pushes them towards us. “Nice try, dude. We know they are spiked”, Brit hisses, holding my hand firm. I look at the drink inside the cup and wonder what exactly it is. “Spiked? Come on, O’Shea you know me better than that. I wouldn’t have to spike your drink to get you in my bed”

Her mouth fell into an oh shape when she understood what kind of bombs I was talking about, she looked between the available ones before going with a blue one, it’s her favourite colour, infused with Jasmin's smell, one of my favourites. “Put it in the bath,” I tell her, she smiles and runs toward the bath, she drops it slowly watching it fizz, the bomb had her full attention, I moved to the kitchen, and got myself a big cup of coffee, I know in the movies they have wine, but I need coffee right now. I also made Elle a mug, if she’s joining my bath, she’ll share a drink with me. I finished getting the two mugs ready, before moving back to the bathroom, I started to get naked, her eyes went w

On the counter, three mugs sat side by side. Damien’s was black, chipped slightly along the rim from years of careless handling. Elena’s was white porcelain, thin and elegant, something she had found in the cabinet and adopted without thinking. Draco’s was smaller than both, ceramic painted with a bright cartoon dragon that curled around the sides in cheerful loops of green and gold. Steam no longer rose from any of them. They stood like quiet markers of a morning that had already passed—evidence of three separate lives intersecting in the same fragile space. Three people sharing the same roof, the same danger, the same unspoken ties. From a distance, it almost resembled something ordinary.

I said simply, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing any reaction beyond indifference. Logan gestured toward the café area. “Shall we grab a table? I’ve taken the liberty of ordering breakfast for you.” I hesitated, my pride warring with my rumbling stomach. Skipping breakfast had been my routine during busy days for as long as I could remember, but the rich aroma of coffee and pastries was hard to resist. “Fine,” I relented, following him to a sleek table near the café’s counter. The coffee was already waiting—a cup of Blue Mountain, one of the most expensive coffees in the world. I raised an eyebrow as I took a sip, the smooth, slightly fruity flavor confirming my suspicion.

Since Kimberley usually liked her coffee very sweet, it wouldn’t raise suspicion. Carrying both mugs, Riley walked out of the kitchen. Her own coffee was in the blue mug. Kimberley’s doctored coffee in the red one. Each step toward her friend felt heavier with guilt. But unfortunately, she had no other options. She handed the red mug to Kimberley, who smiled warmly. “Thanks. I always missed your coffee.” Looking at her innocent, trusting smile, Riley almost stopped her. Almost begged her not to drink it. But she stayed silent.

“What would you order?” Suddenly, Blue averted her gaze. Pressed on regardless. “I’d order two coffees and a cheese and tomato sandwich—a mocha have-here and a takeaway long black,” Blue took pause. As she did, she scanned the crowd of those who had since begun to queue. Wondered how many suffered the same silent fate as she. Somehow, felt no sympathy for those who did. There were worse fates, she was rather aware. Yet her self-sympathy somehow lingered. “The mocha and sandwich would keep me full until lunch. I’d save the black for mid-afternoon when I get hungry again,”