#towel turban

[beautiesofbygoneeras]

Gloria Knight Appearing In A Playboy Test Photo Shoot. Photos By Edmund Leja, 1964.

[autisticabbey]

My customized New Silver Millennium pants, bath towels set, and puzzle pieces hair turbans, and my DIY New Silver Millennium puzzle pieces long sleeve shirt and socks, my customized Pallas and Diamond Moon Mardi Gras bath towels set and my DIY Pallas and Diamond Moon Mardi Gras puzzle piece socks, and my customized Pallas and Diamond Moon Valentine's Day mesh laundry bag and folding laundry basket

[ssaalexblake]

Me on the phone booking a repair guy to come fix the fridge and him asking me if the 17th is alright and thinking that I cannot wait till August and the genuine shock that no, he meant next Monday and not next month. Cannot remember ever waiting less than a week for a repair on something??? I am shocked and elated.

[mishkakagehishka]

That reminds me i should probably dry my hair

[sepdet]

In southern California we draw the curtains and call that air conditioning

We don't talk enough about how the Post-Shower Drying Off segment sucks

[beautiesofbygoneeras]

Uschi Digard - 1970s Era Swedish Classic Men's Magazine Model.

[trendproducts]

Hair Towel and Curl Scrunching Towel Set, the ultimate solution for curly-haired women and girls. This set is designed to revolutionize your hair care routine and enhance your natural curls with ease.

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[evilgwrl]

Simon Riley is enamoured by you. All of you. Whether you’re dressed up, your face full of makeup, skin stained with the sickening smell of scented alcohol, burying your natural musk behind hundreds of dollars. Whether you’re fresh out of the shower, the hint of your body wash lingering across your damp body, your hair tied in a messy turban, small droplets falling down exposed skin, the rest being absorbed by your cotton towel.

But he loves you especially when you’re underneath him, completely at his mercy. It shows him that you trust him with every fibre of your being, that you’ll allow him to take you, all of you, without him even asking. He loves the way you look up at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears as you latch onto the muscles of his back, nails digging deep crescents into the ivory of his skin.

He loves the way you practically whimper his name, your lip jutting out with every deep thrust, gummy walls squeezing his member, eyebrows scrunched up as soft wrinkles enfold themselves in your forehead.

Simon loves the way you squeeze your thighs against his ears, almost killing him when he isn’t able to hear those pretty sounds you moan out fully. He loves how responsive you are when his tongue dives into your weeping hole, clit throbbing with anticipation as you near an orgasm.

But Simon thinks he loves you most when you’re lying naked next to him, whispering praise in his ear and professing your love to him, sweaty bodies laced into one as you lap in each others touch, completely fulfilled by one another.

[whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk]

Cassian DOES have a 10 step hair routine, don’t hide that in the tags!!

A/N: Listen, was I meant to spend the evening finally finishing my Elucien Week fic? Yes. Yes, I was. Did I instead spend it writing this 1k drabble to prove a point? Yes. Yes, I did. This fic is dedicated to @moodymelanist, @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk, and @talkfantasytome who agree with me, but it is especially dedicated to @dustjacketmusings because THIS is the correct take. Thank you and goodnight 😌

Nesta sighs softly as the tips of Cassian’s fingers skirt down her arm and then back up again. She practically melts against him, curling tighter into his side. She shoves her toes deeper beneath his thigh, leaching as much warmth as she can, and she can practically feel Cassian’s chuckle as it rumbles through his chest. His hair tickles her cheek as he turns his head, and she doesn’t even bother biting back her smile when she feels him press a kiss to her forehead.

“Comfy, sweetheart?”

Nesta hums her assent, earning another soft laugh from Cassian. She keeps her eyes on the television screen, on the movie playing there. She tries to pay attention to the characters, the dialogue they’re speaking, but already, she feels so relaxed, so comfortable. She can feel every muscle unwind, her eyes starting to flutter, but she’s determined, holding out until the end credits start to roll.

Cassian grabs the remote and turns off the television, the screen fading to black with a soft click. Nesta tosses the blanket off her legs and stands up, stretching her arms high above her head until she feels that satisfying pull in her back. Cassian’s hands settle on her hips, sliding around her waist and tugging her back into him.

“Don’t,” Cassian whispers, burying his face against her neck.

Nesta snorts softly, even as she presses back against him. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“But I know what you’re going to say, that you need to go home.”

“I do. It’s late.”

“Stay.” Nesta doesn’t say anything, her bottom lip finding home between her teeth, but that just seems to encourage Cassian more, his arms tightening around her. “Stay, Nes.” At her continued silence, she can feel his smile against her skin. “Neither of us have work in the morning. I can give you something to sleep in. So stay.”

Nesta turns around in his arms, using all her willpower to keep her face neutral. “I usually like to shower before bed.”

“I know it might sound crazy, but my apartment does in fact have one of those.”

“I hate you.”

Cassian’s hands reach up and frame her face. “No, you don’t. Besides, I’ll make us breakfast in the morning.”

Nesta hums, pretending to think about it. “French toast?”

“You drive a hard bargain, but it’s a deal.”

Nesta smiles and presses up onto her toes, sealing their deal with a kiss. It’s sweet, a simple press of lips as they both smile into it, but happiness takes root between Nesta’s ribs and leaves butterflies fluttering in her chest.

When they pull apart, Cassian leads the way down the hall and to his bedroom. He roots around in his drawer until he produces a soft looking, oversized tee. He steps back over to Nesta, holding it out for her to take.

“Towels are in the closet in the hall, and you know where the bathroom is.” With a nod, Nesta tries to take the shirt from his hands, but Cassian holds firm, using their shared grip to pull Nesta close again and steal another kiss. When he pulls away, that infuriating smirk of his takes over his face, his voice dipping low and suggestive as he says, “let me know if you need any help.”

Nesta rolls her eyes fondly, but she takes the shirt finally and steps out of his bedroom. She finds the closet Cassian mentioned and tugs the door open. She’s surprised to find so much on the shelves inside. Wash cloths. Small towels that seem to have buttons on them. She spies a neat stack of regular towels and grabs one, heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

She sets the towel and Cassian’s shirt aside. She reaches into the shower and turns the knob, letting the water warm up while she peels her own clothes off and neatly folds them. When steam starts to fill the bathroom, she yanks back the shower curtain, but she pauses before she steps inside. She has to blink a few times, making sure what she’s seeing isn’t some trick of her imagination. For a moment, she feels like she’s suddenly transported to Elain and Lucien’s home.

Lined neatly along the shelves in the shower are bottles. Multiple bottles. A large, bright green bottle labeled sulfate free shampoo. A small, pink bottle next to it labeled co-wash shampoo. Deep conditioner. Leave-in conditioner. A small jar of hair mask.

Nesta has certainly always appreciated Cassian’s hair. The way those curls look so gorgeous when they hang around his face and shoulders. The way the strands feel so soft when she runs her fingers through them. She supposes she should have known his luscious hair wasn’t all natural and took some work. Should have known he’d take his haircare routine so seriously.

She has to bite her lip around a laugh, but she finally steps into the shower and under the spray. The heat of the water against her shoulders pulls a sigh from her lips and she tips her head back, letting the water soak her hair. She eyes the different hair supplies Cassian has before deciding to grab the sulfate free shampoo and work that through her hair. She uses some of the deep conditioner next, surprised at how soft her hair already feels when she rinses it out.

Nesta shuts off the shower and steps out, wrapping the towel around her and squeezing out the excess water from her hair. She pulls open Cassian’s medicine cabinet in hopes of finding a comb and is greeted with the sight of even more hair products. Creams, mousse, and gels. She shakes her head fondly and grabs the comb stored in there beside the various products, carefully running it through her wet hair.

She tugs Cassian’s shirt over her head, the fabric soft where it hangs off her and smelling just like Cassian’s cologne. She takes a moment to savor the feeling of it before grabbing the towel again, bending forward and rubbing her hair through it before wrapping the towel around her head. She straightens back up and adjusts the towel slightly so it doesn’t fall.

She decides to leave her clothes for the morning, padding back down the hall and into Cassian’s bedroom. He’s already lounging on his bed, stripped down to just a pair of boxers and casually scrolling through his phone. He looks up with a smile when Nesta steps inside, but then his eyes widen, that smile slowly slipping away. He almost looks… horrified.

“What?” Nesta asks, tilting her head in confusion and tugging almost nervously at the hem of the shirt she’s wearing.

“Did you use a normal towel on your hair?”

“What.”

“Didn’t you see the hair towels in the closet?” Cassian asks, setting his phone down on the bedside table and clambering off the bed.

“What are you talking about?” Nesta shoots back, feeling almost bewildered as Cassian steps around her and into the hall.

“Your hair is going to get frizzy if you use a normal towel like that,” Cassian calls out, and Nesta can hear rustling before he steps back into view, one of the smaller towels with a button on it in his hands. “These are microfiber. These are what you want.”

Without another word, Cassian pulls the towel off Nesta’s head, tossing it toward the hamper near his dresser. He guides Nesta to bend forward so that all her hair hangs down then carefully wraps the microfiber hair towel until all the strands are gathered and tucked inside. When Nesta stands back up, his hands work with practiced ease, securing the towel with the button at the front.

“See?” Cassian asks, his hands sliding from Nesta’s head down to her shoulders. “Much better, right?”

“You’re crazy,” Nesta tells him, but there’s no hiding the fondness from her tone, no stopping the smile that tugs up her lips.

“You love me anyways.”

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog​ @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl​ @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld​ @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias​ @kookskoocie​​ @unlikelypersonalknight1 @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk

[embrosegraves]

ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕃𝕖𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕤

Charles Leclerc x Reader (implied she/her) Charles and Reader name their daughters the same order as the Leclerc brothers. 

Mr Charles “Girl Dad” Leclerc

Warnings: Extreme use of the red heart emoji, IT'S SO LONG I'M SO SORRY, also watch out for Google translate lmao don't trust them to be exact

Still not the best at smaus but I'm working on it (between every 'post' will be a timeskip of an unspecified amount of time. my brain can't handle doing maths more than it needs to.)

instagram.com

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youruser Baby Leclerc Loading...

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yourBff I'm so ready to be an Aunty  → youruser One of the best ❤️

user omgomgomgomgomgomg user Is it a girl or a boy? → youruser We're waiting until the birth to find out user GUYS CHARLES MIGHT BE A GIRL DAD 

carlossainz55 Charles is gonna be out of a seat soon → charles_leclerc they're going to take your seat actually → youruser please don't encourage this, they aren't even born yet

Liked by racerbia, sebastianvettel and others

youruser As of Nov 8 2026, please welcome Lorelei Manon Haydée Pascale Leclerc ❤️❤️ Charles and I are so incredibly excited to share this chapter of our lives with everyone however we plan on keeping Little Lori's face completely hidden until she can tell us otherwise. We ask that you respect our decision and that you do not go out of your way to find out what she looks like ❤️

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landonorris Hey there Little Lori Leclerc  → youruser ❤️

carlossainz55 Bienvenida Pequeña Belleza translated Welcome Little Beauty → charles_leclerc Uncle Chilli reporting for duty? → carlossainz55 Of Course!

leclerc_pascale When can I see my precious grandbaby❤️ → charles_leclerc I will facetime you Maman ❤️

Liked by pierregasly, arthurleclerc and others

youruser Round Two LETS GO

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pierregasly Another gossip buddy!!!  → youruser Our gossip sessions are about to be so much cooler!

user ANOTHER ONE!! → user ok dj khalid user are you waiting to find out the gender again? → youruser ✨oui✨ user please be another girl, i need charles to be purely a girl dad

maxverstappen1 this one will be in a redbull i can feel it → youruser oh god not you too

Liked by LeclercLorenzo, leclerc_pascale and others

charles_leclerc Papa and Manon Spa Night (so Mama can try to relax before baby is born)

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youruser you have mastered the towel turban my love  → youruser Lori looks so cute 😭❤️

user Charles "Girl Dad" Leclerc coming in clutch → user he's in his element user be honest /youruser did you teach him the towel turban? → youruser i mean, not on purpose? he's watched me do it so often i guess he just, learnt??? user I love how squishy she looks MY HEART--

lilymhe this qualifies as Charles' official invite to Girls Night™ → youruser i'll add him to the groupchat lmao → charles_leclerc yeah babyyyyyy

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youruser And on October 17 2027, the world said let there be Charlène Madeleine Héloïse Pascale Leclerc ❤️❤️ Once again, we are so so so excited to share our growing family with the world. As we did for little Lori, we will not be sharing baby ChiChi's face until she can tell us otherwise. We are so grateful that everyone respected our wishes with Lori and we ask that you respect them once more. Love Always ❤️

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LeclercLorenzo Might be early but I'm sensing a trend... → youruser 👀/charles_leclerc → charles_leclerc a trend you say?? 👀

carlossainz55 Un'altra splendida bambina ❤️ proud of you guys translated Another gorgeous baby girl → charles_leclerc Grazie Fratello ❤️ translated Thankyou Brother → youruser Grazie Chilli ❤️

leclerc_pascale Another granddaughter to spoil ❤️❤️ → youruser I fear you'll put Char out of a job Maman 😂 → charles_leclerc you cannot spoil her as much as me! 😠❤️

Liked by LeclercLorenzo, leclerc_pascale and others

charles_leclerc My Precious Girls, how your Papa loves you

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youruser My Loves 😭❤️

user Another classic Charles "Girl Dad" Leclerc moment → user omg I saw them the other day and the way Charles looks at Lori and ChiChi 😍🥰 user Charles is so in love with his girls it make me feel warm and fuzzy inside → youruser makes me wanna have another lmao → user SO REAL FOR THIS → charles_leclerc oh? 😏😏

lilymhe Why can't we have this? /alex_albon → alex_albon our sons are literally your personal bodyguards... I can't even kiss you without their permission → charles_leclerc he misses you 😂😂

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youruser 3 is a magic number

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pierregasly Do you guys ever stop? → youruser who? → pierregasly you and charles → youruser no i mean who asked?

user has anybody noticed that the age gap between each leclerc baby is basically the EXACT same as the leclerc brothers? → user OMG I WAS GONNA SAY youruser before you ask lovey /user once again we're waiting for the birth ❤️ → user honestly at this point i think everyone knows it's gonna be a girl liked by youruser user Okay, they definitely have a theme going on here with Lorenzo and Lorelei, and then literally Charles and Charlène. this one is gonna be named after Arthur i know it

charles_leclerc One more after this? → youruser no <3

Liked by kimimatiasraikkonen, carlossainz55 and others

youruser Say hello to our newest arrival, Artemis Marinette Helena Pascale Leclerc ❤️❤️ born on October 15 2030 For the third time, Charles and I invite you to meet our (now complete) family! Just as we did with little Lori and Baby ChiChi, Mini Artie's face will be hidden until she can tell us otherwise. Forever grateful that everyone is so understanding of all our daughters' privacy, thank you all so much! get ready to see a whole bunch of the Leclerc Sisters on your feed from now on❤️

comments have been limited

carlossainz55 I can't keep commenting in another language now, you used all three that I know → charles_leclerc sounds like a you problem mate → youruser be grateful we're only having three kids Carlos

sebastianvettel One more for the collection → youruser my daughters are not like your cars and their bond girl names → charles_leclerc i'll be honest, i did laugh a little

LeclercLorenzo Some might say I... called it. → youruser don't even, you knew when we told you about naming Little Lori → LeclercLorenzo let me live in my delusion

kimimatiasraikkonen 👍 → youruser never change Kimi ❤️

Liked by fernandoalo_oficial, georgerussell63 and others

charles_leclerc At least Mini Artie likes to kart 🫠❤️

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georgerussell63 I think it's hilarious that not even your mini me likes karting → youruser it is the funniest thing to watch as Char sulks because of it → pierregasly I can only imagine 😂😂 → charles_leclerc what is this, bully Charles day?

user Mini Artie is gonna carry on the family legacy → user can you imagine omg youruser come back home the kids miss you → user i had to double check that this was ACTUALLY the mother of his children liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, youruser and others user I see no one else has realised that all three of the girls birthdays are THE DAY AFTER the person they're named after. → youruser believe me, that wasn't planned ((it was harder to plan than it should've been))

youruser I love you so much Char. Best father, best husband ❤️ → charles_leclerc Je t'aime encore plus, Ma Chère. Best mother, Best wife ❤️ translated I love you more, My Dear

holy shit that was long jesus christ.

uhhhhhh hope you enjoyed? reblogs and likes would be much appreciated because this took me SO MUCH LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 1)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Y/N is fresh in East Hollywood, LA. After a major life overhaul, she’s ready to dive into a new chapter. So, when she hits the town for a night out with friends, she unexpectedly crosses paths with none other than actor Evan Peters. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act all nonchalant, but damn, Evan’s interest throws her for a loop. Their first meeting? Total tension and flirtation, hinting at an evening full of surprises.

Disclaimer ─ In Part 1 of the series, the main characters are introduced, setting the stage for the encounter of Evan and Y/N to unfold and the sexual energy between them to build up. Things get super steamy and smutty in Part 2.

Warnings (for Part 2) ─ Obscene language, semi-public, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering, overstimulation, handjob, nudes, handjob, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, rough sex, extra smutty—you guys know the drill :)

Word count ─ 3.8K

18+ > If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

You step out of the shower, steam stirring around you as you wrap your hair turban-style in a towel. The anticipation of a proper night-out since you made the bold move to quit your job in Europe and pursue another life in the US tingles in your veins. It feels like forever since you’ve let loose, and tonight promises to be nothing short of epic.

Plopping down onto your bed, you grab your go-to jar of coconut body butter from the dresser. You squeeze a generous dollop onto your palm and rub your hands together. The creamy texture blends in as you work it onto your skin, leaving it smooth and oh-so-soft.

As you immerse yourself in your ritual, you hear the familiar buzz of a FaceTime call. Glancing over at your bedside table, you see “Ad💗,” your friend’s name (Adria for full) glowing on the screen. You pick up your phone, still coated in moisturiser, and her face pops up. A look of desperation is written all over her features.

“Hey, girl! What’s up?” you chirp, propping the phone on your desk to finish off your pampering session.

She lets out a dramatic groan. “Send help,” she whines, her voice tinged with panic. “I’m having a meltdown over here. I swear, I got nothing to wear.”

You can’t help but giggle at her faux-crisis. “First-world problems, brain rot,” you tease, sneaking a peek at the heap of clothes behind her. “I see you’ve got quite a selection to pick from.”

Adria pouts, swatting playfully at the camera. “Nah, these don’t count. I need everyone to be ‘she ate and left no crumbs.’ What’re going for tonight? I need some inspo!”

You chuckle sympathetically, holding the phone aloft as you pivot to show her your fit for tonight laid out on your bed. “I’m going for less is more—my thrifted mini satin dress and racing black leather jacket with my military boots and white tube socks for a touch of sass.”

She gives you a strained smile as she takes in your outfit. “Ahh, you pull off that casual vibe effortlessly, babe.”

You flip the camera back to you, shrugging nonchalantly, “I’m casual and proud!”

Adria rolls her eyes with a teasing glint. “Okay, but what about makeup? You gotta glam it up… you know the LA sparkle! That’s how we do it in East Hollywood, at least!”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m feeling the au naturel look. You know I suck with makeup big time—I’d probably end up looking like Pennywise.”

Rather than rehashing your “Why makeup should be banned” manifesto, you choose to dig further into the evening’s plans. “So, who else’s joining us tonight, Ad?”

She rattles off a list of names, both female and male—some known, others unknown—and you nod along. “Gotcha. I’ll be ready by 10.”

“Perf. I’ll swing by to pick you up then. Buckle up for a wild night, biyyyatch!” she exclaims, wiggling her brows at you.

You let out a choked laugh as you observe her grimacing. “Alrighty, catch you soon!”

Once you hang up, you slip into your outfit and let your hair fall loose, fluffing it up for a bit of volume. No need for fancy blowouts tonight—you’re all about that breezy, air-dried look.

With a spritz of perfume and a final check in the mirror, you grab your essentials and head out into the dazzling city lights.

As you strut into the club with your gang, the uplifting beats hit you like a wave of energy. The nostalgic tunes of early 2000’s R&B thump in your chest, urging you to groove with every step. You all weave through the sea of nightclubbers, the party mode building up inside you like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

“Let’s hit the bar!” Tommy, one of the guys and Adria’s boyfriend, shouts over Missy Elliot. You all nod in agreement, eager to keep the high spirits flowing with some booze.

You slither through more partygoers who dance erratically, all while juggling their drinks. Some move smoothly to the rhythm, while others simply jiggle around out of tune.

Neon lights flash and strobe, casting an electric glow over the bartender as he polishes a row of whiskey glasses with cool confidence. A cheeky smile plays on his lips as you hop onto an empty stool before him.

“What can I get you started?” he roars over the music, his voice cutting through the din.

“Coronas all around,” you holler, matching his tone with equal fervour. You hand him a wad of cash chipped in by everyone.

“Coming right up.” With a flick of his wrist, he expertly pops the cap off the bottle, sliding them your way with a wink.

“Thanks,” you mouth, shooting him a grin before heading back to your friends with a tray.

You take a long, satisfying gulp, the crisp taste of beer quenching your thirst. With your beverage in hand, you pace to the dance floor, your friends in tow only metres away.

Your hips swing in harmony with the melody, and your feet glide effortlessly across the ground. Heads turn and whispers follow your path. Some even reach out, uttering unintelligible words, or brush against your shoulder as you pass by.

Ignoring the distractions, you grab Adria and Jasmine, dragging them into the heart of the dance floor while the rest of the group forms a circle around you. The music engulfs you, momentarily sweeping away the grim memories of your pre-relocation life.

With each song that blares through the speakers, your body twists and twirls with fluid grace, each move perfectly timed to the tempo of the music. In that moment, you feel more alive, more liberated than ever before.

As time trickles by, the music continues to pump and the lights swirl around you. You notice Joseph, the lone blond dude in the squad, inching closer and closer to you as the night stretches on. 

“Heyo, Y/N! How’s it going?” he greets you with a tap on the shoulder, his voice rumbling near your ear.

“Hey! All good now. How’s you?” you retort with a tight-lipped smile, bringing your Corona to your lips for another sip.

“Now that I’m chatting with you, much better!” he quips back, a hint of mischief in his tone. “How are you liking the States?”

Just as you’re about to respond, joyous screams erupt from Adria and a couple of other girls from your group, catching your attention. Before you can fully process what’s happening, Adria dashes toward you and jumps into your arms, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Girl! Are you on Molly or something? What’s going on?” you mock, smoothing out your dress on the cleavage before you start flashing whoever’s at close vicinity.

“Omg, you won’t believe it!” Adria squeaks, frantically clapping her hands.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Try me.”

“Ahh, my fangirling is through the roof right now! Evan Peters is here,” she cries out, bouncing up and down, squeezing your hand tightly.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Who?” 

“Evan Peters, Y/N! The hottie from American Horror Story… Kai Anderson, Cult? Kit Walker, Asylum? Seriously, don’t these ring any bells? Umm… Dahmer? Come on—you’ve watched that series!” she insists, her voice pitch rising as she tries to jog your memory.

A flicker of recognition crosses your face as your friend’s description sinks in. “Oh, right, Evan Peters,” you concede with a faint smile. “I remember now…And?”

Adria’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open in disbelief. “And?? He’s in the same space as us, breathing the same oxygen, Y/N!”

You shake your head, trying to inject a dose of reality into her Hollywood-induced haze. “Okay, but let’s be real here. He’s a mega star, so totally out of league. I mean, we’ve got about as much chance with him as a blue whale does with climbing Mount Everest,” you quip and fold your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “And you’ve got a boyfriend, in case you forgot.”

Adria’s enthusiasm deflates slightly as she’s reminded of Tommy. “It’s not the same,” she protests sheepishly, fiddling with her bracelet. “You know how celebrity crushes work. How can I not crave Evan when he’s graced the world with his Tate Langdon role?” 

You can’t help but laugh at her delirium. “Ugh, Adria, it’s giving obsession and borderline restraining order from Peters if you keep this up. Let’s just focus on having a blast tonight and drop the celebrity fantasies, okay?”

A couple of hours melt away, and the energy of the dance floor begins to wane. Most of your friends retreat to a nearby table to freshen up. But not you. With two others by your side, you’re on a mission to keep the party alive, letting the music guide your body with a fierce determination.

Mid-twirl, though, your eyes snag on something unexpected—a figure lingering at the fringes of the dance floor, his attractive gaze burning into you like a laser beam, sending a bolt of lightning down your back. It takes a moment for you to register who it is, but when you do, your heart kicks into overdrive.

Evan Peters.

You try to play it cool, biting down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the grin that’s itching to break free. You try to pass it off as just a coincidence, a trick of the light or a delulu figment of your imagination, but when you steal another glance in his direction, you find his eyes still trained on you. This time around, he offers a timid smile.

Your throat feels like it’s swallowed a golf ball as you sense his eyes fixed on you. Desperate to shake off the sudden self-consciousness, you rummage through your tiny shoulder bag for your phone. Your fingers jitter as you feign interest in your screen, scrolling aimlessly through your main menu or typing out gibberish in your notes app.

But even as you try to stay composed, his stare weighs on you like a ton of bricks. Are you tripping? Feeling more awkward and exposed than ever (you don’t have Evan Peters laying eyes on you every day), you motion to your friends that you’re heading to the restroom. Anything to escape the spotlight, even if it’s only for a sec.

This time, you bulldoze through the crowd, head low, with the toilets being your last glimmer of hope for salvation. Or so you think. Just as you’re about to slip away, a warm, soft hand gently closes around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

Every muscle in your body tenses as you slowly turn to confront the person obstructing your way. And there he is, Evan Peters in the flesh, standing before you with an enigmatic grin playing at the corners of his lips.

Your heart leaps into your throat when you face him, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. Your mind races a mile a minute—Is this real life? Did you manifest this? Is Evan Peters actually in front of you?

Fuck, Adria’s right. He’s hot as hell, you ruminate, feeling your breath clutching in your throat.

Before you can even gather your thoughts, he greets you with a seductive rasp. “Hey.” His eyes seal with yours in a way that makes your knees turn into jelly.

I just saw you and heard you in person, Evan! Scrap everything I said to Adria. Forget the restraining order. Just slap the handcuffs on me, and do whatever you want... Erhm, I mean, take me into custody cause staring at you should definitely be illegal.

You freeze, unable to tear your eyes away from his handsome dark brown (almost black) eyes and silky tousled curls. A feeble “Hi” is all you manage, your voice barely above a whisper as a nervous flutter stomps onto your stomach.

“Having a good time?” he checks in, his smile widening by the second.

“The asphyxiation I feel right now must be a sure sign that I’m enjoying myself, right?” you reply, fanning your hand in front of your face for dramatic effect.

His throaty laughter bubbles up from deep within him, the sound instantly cranking up your heartbeat. It’s genuine and infectious, like he’s letting down his guard and inviting you into his world, flashing those perfect teeth like they’re on a billboard.

“If you’re suffocating from excitement, then you must be doing something right. But don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out on you. If you turn purple, I’ll dial 911,” he teases, gently lifting your chin with his index finger and giving you a full inspection with feigned seriousness. “Nope, we’re good. So far, all I see is beauty, no signs of death.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up with embarrassment, so you instinctively lower your head, hoping to hide your rose-tinted face. 

You battle to keep it together, but the fact that his hand hasn’t budged from your wrist since your eyes met screams, ‘fainting spell incoming.’ As if that’s enough, his thumb traces soft circles on your skin, sending goosebumps up your arm. “You make me cringe, do it again,” you joke, and you both share a laugh.

“Alright, let’s see what card I should pull next. Here it comes, drumroll—on behalf of everyone in here, I testify to your: ‘I got some serious moves and conquered the dance floor, but I need a breather now.’” he rambles and raises his free hand in mock ovation, his grin laced with mischief.

You chuckle, a surge of confidence brewing within you. “Well, it takes the greatest of them all to verify this. A lifetime of dancing lessons didn’t go down the drain, I guess. I appreciate your testament, sir, and the panel’s verdict,” you coo, bowing theatrically.

Once again, his laughter fills the space between you, warm and hearty.

After a few minutes of silence and a staring contest that makes it agonising for you to breathe, you finally utter, “I said this would be my night, and, apparently, I meant that,” discreetly eyeing him from head to toe, semi-drooling.

“Yeah? Any highlights of the night?” he inquires, his tone dripping with curiosity, and you can’t resist playing along after letting your thoughts slip out loud.

“Nothing yet. But I’m counting on your highlighter to illuminate my way,” you spill out, playfully tilting your head to the side. A sly grin spreads across your lips as you throw the bait, hoping he’ll keep up with your pun game.

His “strike” is immediate as he edges closer to you. “Believe it or not, I’ve got one on me that can change your night from the inside out,” he shoots back, his smile growing, clearly on the same innuendo-laden wavelength as you. You’re a match made in flirtatious banter heaven, true that.

“I need some inside work, that’s for sure. Glad you’re volunteering,” you reply, feeling a rush of heat flood through you at his words. Then, you quickly transition, turning his wrist stroking into a handshake as you introduce yourself.

He hums, gently taking your hand in his, his smile stretching wide enough to reveal his adorable dimples that only add to his charm. “Evan.”

“I know,” you admit, unable to contain your broad smile. “But just an FYI, I haven’t binged-read your fanfics or analysed our astrology charts to see if we’re soulmates. I’ve gone as far as watching Dahmer. Stellar performance, by the way,” you blurt out, still shaking his hand.

He rolls his lips into his mouth to suppress another giggle. “Okay, chill. No need to prove you’re not a psycho. Wanna grab a drink to cool off?”

“No need to ask,” you fire back with equal enthusiasm, both of you grinning like kids in a candy store. Without hesitation, you just follow his lead, diving headfirst into the moment with a reckless abandon, thinking, ‘I’m all in, no matter what crazy idea you’ve got up your sleeve, baby boy.’

He cups your hand in his, his palm firm and reassuring, as he guides you through the throngs of people toward a quieter bar setup located upstairs in the club. The touch makes your head spin, feeling the familiar sensation of heat pooling between your thighs, leaving your undies all moist. You’ve felt sparks like this before, but never quite so intensely, and certainly not so quickly with anyone else.

As you trail behind him, you can’t help but lightly graze the back of his hand, mapping the pathways of his veins with your fingertips. You love a baby face paired with strong arms—he’s exactly your kind of man.

“Maybe it’s better…” he begins once you reach the bar, but the music swells out of the blue, drowning out the remainder of his sentence.

You involuntarily scrunch up your nose and squint, struggling to concentrate and hear him over the blasting tunes. “Come again, sorry?”

Before you can react, he draws closer to you. His breath is warm and tickly against your ear, causing a tremor through your entire body. Not to mention his voice: husky and velvety, making your cunt pulsate for him already.

Damn, things are moving at lightning speed, and you’re struggling to keep pace.

As Evan gets nearer, you catch a subtle yet alluring whiff of cinnamon and cologne. But, actually, it’s the natural scent exuding from his body that has a chokehold over you. Those pheromones he unleashes are like full-blown intoxication, making you lightheaded, your pulse thudding.

You lean in to mimic his gesture and whisper to his ear, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he gently clasps your hand, signalling for you to hold on. As he removes his earplugs, he explains, “Sorry I’ve got very sensitive ears.”

You chuckle, a wicked spark in your eye as you lift a tuft of hair to reveal your own ear protectors. “Great minds think alike,” you cheer.

“No, you didn’t,” he exclaims, eyes widened as you burst out laughing in sync.

As your laughter subsides, Evan’s expression shifts. His eyes bore into yours with a smouldering intensity as if he’s on the verge of revealing a long-held secret or daring to make a move.

But before you can form coherent thoughts or pluck up the courage to speak, Evan blinks fast, breaking the spell. “Shall we get those drinks at last? What’d you like?”

You clear your throat, trying to snap out of your nasty thoughts with Evan being the main character. “I’m down for another Corona, thanks.”

He flashes a quick two-finger salute to the bartender before turning back to you, his lips curving up in a cute, crooked smile. “So, who are you here with tonight?”

“Just some friends,” you confess, your voice trailing off as he raises his bottle to clink it against yours in a toast. His eyes remain glued on yours as he takes a sip, his defined jawline and slender neck at full display begging for your kisses. The intensity of his gaze makes your legs all wobbly. “A-and yourself?” you stammer, breaking eye contact to nervously trace a circular pattern on the rim of the bottle glass with your fingers.

“Same, I came to visit friends during my break. I’m flying back to Vancouver in ten days to carry on filming Tron.”

Your grip tightens around the cool glass of your drink as Evan drops the bombshell. You feel the liquid catch in your throat as you choke, a sudden surge of panic hitting your chest. You cough, the sound harsh and uncontrolled, your body reacting instinctively to the news.

“Canada?” you manage to croak out between coughs, your voice hoarse. You struggle to swallow past the lump, your throat raw and constricted. Your chest heaves as you fight to regain control.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks with a sense of urgency, his forehead creased with deep lines of worry. Leaning in, his eyes search yours for any sign of distress. His hand reaches out to steady you, giving you comforting back rubs.

You nod weakly, your eyes watering from the effort of suppressing another coughing fit.

“Let me fetch some water for you,” he offers, his voice soft and soothing. He sprints to the bar, returning seconds later with a glass of water and a concerned frown etched on his forehead.

“Thanks,” you mumble, accepting the glass with a trembling hand, keeping the bottle of beer in your other hand. The cool water soothes your parched throat, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you as Evan tenderly ruffles your hair and massages your scalp to calm you down. Hint: his hands on you work wonders.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, looking up to meet his gaze again, your heart hammering. Everything else fades away, leaving only the reassuring presence of Evan before you.

You can practically sense the sexual tension between you. His stare flickers between your lips and eyes, his own mouth slightly parted. It’s like a silent invitation that hangs between you like a charged wire ready to ignite, daring you to take a plunge and smother his face with kisses. And then suck his dick so hard that his stomach caves in like a Caprisun.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve just met; he has you at hello and you’d spread your legs for this man without a second thought…

You gulp as you realise he’s almost inches away from you. You shudder when his fresh breath—an irresistible blend of mint and alcohol—wafts into my mouth, blowing stray strands of hair off your face. “You’re leaving in ten days?” you sigh, puckering your lips and giving him a puppy-eyed look.

“Yes, but I’m still here,” he whispers, his eyes fixed on your lips as he leans into your stool. With a single knee, he slowly splits your legs and slides in between them.

“You’re here now. Wanna be at my place next?” you suggest, and he stares back at your eyes with a crooked smirk, his lips curled mischievously.

Without warning, his lips brushed against yours, throwing your arousal off the chart. The torturously slow pace that his lips slide along yours makes your sex leap, pop, and drip. Soft moans escape your bodies as he grabs your ass to pull you in, squeezing it along the way as his chest cushions firmly against your breasts.

He smiles against your lips as you tangle your fingers in his hair and part your mouth, giving him the green light to roughen the kiss. His hard rock boner already presses against your wet centre when his tongue invades your mouth with primitive force, swirling and twirling with yours in a passionate dance.

“How long to get to yours?” he grunts out of breath, wincing from the uncomfortable angle his stiff cock has now taken in his trousers.

“It’s roughly a ten-minute ride, give or take,” you pant, adjusting the hem of your dress.

“Off we go.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[tangerinesgirl]

Reflection

*Spoilers for Abigail (2024)*

Fem!Reader x Frank/Adam Barrett (Abigail)

Summary: You take a long shower after falling into the pool of bodies and miss all the action. Frank is the only survivor left.

Word count: 1.6k

Rating: 18+, NFSW, explicit

Warnings: smut, vampirism, blood, asphyxiation, mirror sex, p in v, dacryphilia, swearing

Notes: wow I'm so original with titles. Not an ask sorry I'll get round to some of them I promise, I've just had this idea in my head for a while! Also let's pretend the vampires in Abigail don't have reflections for the purpose of this fic. Enjoy!

🦇

After four really long showers, you finally felt somewhat clean after falling into that pool. If you could call it that, since you couldn't actually swim in it, just climb over the bodies. You spent ages fishing out the miscellaneous gunk caught in your hair.

You were lucky to find a travel hairbrush in the cabinet, which you accidentally snapped trying to detangle your hair. This nearly tipped you over the edge, as if the night couldn't get any worse.

One whole bottle of shampoo later, you grab a towel, wrap up your hair in a turban, and exit the shower.

You look down at the pile of your nasty clothes, there's no way in hell you're putting them back on. But naturally, you didn't find anything before you jumped in the shower, you couldn't think straight at the time, only caring about getting clean. You sigh, removing the towel from your head and onto your body, fastening it as well as you could, as you left the bathroom.

You leave behind faint wet footprints on the wooden floorboards as you figure out what room would have spare clothes. You snap your head around suddenly as you hear loud bangs from down the corridor. You start to back away slowly, the floorboards creaking underneath you, when suddenly the loud bangs stop. You freeze, looking around trying to find anything to use as a weapon. You were a few steps away from the bathroom where you left half a pool cue.

You would have to move eventually, so you carefully back up, reaching for the stake. You turn around slowly and grab it. You exhale slowly, relief flooding over you. You turn back around and Frank is looming over you.

"Jesus Christ Frank, you scared the shit out of me, what the fuck".

"Where the fuck have you been?", he looks you up and down, your wet hair covering your eyes, water droplets trickling down from the tips of your hair onto your chest. Frank tries hard to not say anything inappropriate, something else clearly on his mind. "Nevermind, we have to go, I have an idea".

He grabs your wrist and slams into the door for the dance studio you and everyone found earlier on in the night.

*

You and the team decided to tour the house and claim first dibs on the bedrooms. The handle for this room was a little stuck, so Peter took over and slammed his hip into the door. It finally gave way, Peter essentially tumbling into the room. You look around and see a room full of mirrors. Everywhere but the floor.

"Woah. Kinky", you say out loud, you think everyone else is probably thinking the same.

"Relax, it's probably a dance studio thing", Sammy explains.

You look around the practically empty room, seems Sammy was right, since there's no unassuming furnishings here, an odd chair, some mats and a pair of ballet shoes scattered on the floor.

*

Frank slams the door of the dance studio shut, the room instantly going pitch black. You both fumble around for a light switch. You can barely see your own hand in front of your face. Frank finds the switch and the florescent lights flicker to life.

You look up and notice the lights are built in with the mirrors seamlessly, it's very impressive, clearly the family was loaded with money.

You double take as you look to the ceiling. You could see your reflection... but not Frank's. You look back towards the light switch and see Frank hasn't moved from his spot. He furrows his eyebrows, clearly noticing something is wrong as your head tilts back up towards the ceiling.

Frank realises, and starts to chuckle. Your heart sinks. You curse yourself as you clutch at the knot in your towel. You look back towards Frank and inch towards the door.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you"

You start to shout for Joey.

Frank chuckles again, "Joey's dead."

"What do you want from me?"

"Relax, I've got everything I've ever wanted, I mean look at me", Frank bares his deliciously sharp teeth. "I just want to have a little fun. I mean, look at you, parading around the house in nothing but a towel. I've seen the way you looked at me tonight, the anger in your face every time I flirted with Joey?"

A tear runs down your face. It could have been mistaken for a drop of water from your hair but it doesn't elude Frank. He wipes it away with his thumb, then drags it along his bottom lip.

He leans down towards your ear, "I can even smell it on you. The arousal." Your body shivers at his voice. His fingers trace up your arms, leaving goosebumps behind. "I know how to push all your little buttons", his hand hovers over your neck, "How to drive you wild". Your breath catches in your lungs as Frank starts to dip his hand further down your chest, playing at where your towel starts. "So what do you say?"

You pull Frank's head towards you, so you can look in his eyes, you see his bright blue eyes, somehow even brighter now, as well as truth hiding behind them. You think back to the instant crush on Frank you had, and even further back to the crushes of various vampires you've had your entire life. Honestly, is this everything you've ever wanted too? Even if it was totally wrong? So wrong it felt...right?

Your eyes dart between Frank's eyes and lips, "Yes".

Frank smiles and kisses you passionately on the lips. The force of him on top of you pushes you back into a mirror, shattering it. But neither of you care as Frank moans into your kiss. You start to undo the knot in your towel as it falls to the floor.

Frank's hands trace down your now naked body, squeezing at your breasts. He licks up the water droplets on your body, then rolls his tongue around your nipple. He looks at you, a little mischief in his gaze. He rolls his eyes as he slowly bites down into your breast. You wince at first, forehead furrowing, but then you start to relax, the pleasure starting to drown out the pain as Frank continues to play with your nipple on his tongue, as he sucks and moans, draining you of your blood supply, slowly.

You look up at the mirrored ceiling and only see you, a line of blood trickling down your chest. Your hand touches the other breast, nipple between your thumb and index finger.

Frank licks the strip of blood on your chest, not wanting to waste a drop. He continues further down and starts to lap at your clit.

Frank ends up moaning more than you, he's not sure if the taste of your arousal or your blood is sweeter. He laps you up like a man starved, holding tightly onto your hips. His tongue dips in and out of you as you hold his head into place, grinding yourself on him. Frank moves your legs onto his shoulders as he pushes his tongue further into you.

You start to feel yourself close to orgasm and look up again, seeing your legs seemingly hover in mid air. The spectacle tips you over the edge. Frank looks up and notices you looking up into the mirrors and smirks.

"Kinky fucker, I love it"

He pulls you towards the centre of the room and lays down a dance mat as a cushion. He wants to push you down onto it, but you're desperate to ride him after riding his face. You shake your head and push his shoulder down, giving him a hint that he's the one that should be on the floor.

He begrudgingly lies down, looking at you, studying what your next move will be. You undo his belt and yank his trousers and underwear down, freeing his cock.

He's definitely bigger than average, which figures considering his big dick energy in real life. You start to swipe him between your folds as you sink onto him in one slow motion. You can feel him teasing against your cervix as you start to grind your hips. His dick pushing in and out of you. Frank's gaze dotting between you and the ceiling. You look up and notice yourself too, your chest bouncing up and down.

You grab Frank's hands to hold your chest in place as you move your hand to your clit. You circle at the bundle of nerves as you continue to push into Frank when your second orgasm rushes over you. Your back arches as your body tenses, pulsing around Frank's dick. He rolls his eyes in pleasure feeling you squeeze around him, swearing under his breath.

He flips you over before you can even comprehend what just happened. He is still fully inside you and thrusts into you. He grabs onto the floor for leverage to get himself impossibly deeper inside you. The floorboards start to creak under Frank's strength. He stops only for a moment as he lifts your legs over his shoulders, looking up as he continues to push into you. You look up and can see your folds spread open. You start to glance down but Frank stops you by grabbing your neck, forcing you to look back up.

He slams into you a few more times, his body tenses up as he reaches his climax. You can feel him start to unload into you. Your breath hitches in your throat as you start to reach a climax of your own from the loss of oxygen.

Your walls clench around him, milking him for all of his seed. You can see it start to leak out of you in the mirror, the lewd spectacle of you fucking nothingness only sends you deeper into your orgasm. You gasp as your arch your back, your ankles locking around his waist, holding Frank into place, as he does a few more thrusts into you to fully insert all of his cum inside you.

Sweat trickles down his forehead as he rocks back on his knees, gasping for breath. No words are exchanged between the two of you, you're both too enamoured with each other that you're already know what the other one is going to say.

[viperwhispered]

Trying to finish designing a fucking summative biology experiment when my brain just drops this: Imagine a scenario where the reader is once again faced with OB!Jamil. Maybe its a dream, maybe they're in Jamil's heart, maybe he OBed again cause of some magic, whatever. Except, Jamil and the reader have been dating for a while, so the reader is completely unfazed because a) this isn't their first rodeo and b) they now Jamil would sooner walk off a cliff before hurting them.

Anyway, Jamil starts going on his monologue about how its pointless to resist, yadda yadda, nobody's coming back, yadda yadda, classic villain stuff, yadda yadda, might as well just accept their place and maybe he'll be merciful, yadda yadda.

Then the reader just reaches out, uses a hankerchief to wipe off the blot goatee (no words can express how much I hate it), and pulls his fringe out of his turban (for reference here's a visual). They smile softly and go "There's my Jami!" in the sweetest tone.

OB!Jamil just goes red and melts.

Source

Cue Jamil silently cursing to himself "God damnit! Why are you so cute? How dare you be so lovely? Why am I such a FUCKING SIMP?! ARGH!"

The killing blow is when the reader says "Are you ready to go home now? I bought ingredients for a new curry recipe and there'll be a nice warm bath waiting for you. Tommorow's a Sunday and Kalim is going out with his clubmates, so we can just have a lazy day."

The sheer care dripping from their voice and the soft sweet way its delivered just one-hit-KOs his heart and he just goes "Fine" while being all tsundere. Meanwhile in his head he's thinking of all the ways he'll spoil you aftewards and plotting on how to build an empire worthy of you.

Bonus: I've mentioned this in my ask about bath scenarios, but washing the blot away sounds so romantic. The reader leading him to a river and gently scrubbing the ink of his skin. Jamil relaxing as their fingers stroke his hair, the snakes giving their fingers one final kiss until they each dissapear. As the blot finishes to fade away, Jamil is wrapped in a soft warm towel and recieves a kiss on his forehead. Cue pouting and asking for a real kiss (I swear this man will become so fucking spoiled).

Hasdfhs such impeccable energy and why does it make me think of like calming down a toddler having a meltdown.

(Also am I the only one who doesn't hate the goatee, lol. But maybe I'm just too busy being spooked by the sneks, because oh boy would they get to me.)

That blushy overblot Jamil tho… Delicious.

And hasdfgh why is he such a simp indeed. Could it be that it's just lovely to have found someone who's sweet and understanding and supportive and puts him first? Maybe perhaps?

And yes this man absolutely deserves to become so very spoiled. Just, smother him in a bit (a lot) of affection.

[beansprean]

My Familiar’s Ghost part 36

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Tight shot of the attic by an exterior wall. The wall is partially patched with haphazardly placed two by fours, more planks stacked on the floor underneath. On the left, an ornate wooden chair sits by a tall shape covered by a white sheet. On the right is a couch half-covered in a sheet, a standing lamp, an empty picture frame, a snowboard, and several cardboard boxes. The large box in the foreground is labeled '80s crap' and is propped partially open by a lava lamp, a beaded necklace and dancing hula girl sitting on top. Ghost Guillermo is laying on his side in the middle of the floor, head against the 80s crap box, covering his face and moaning like a real ghost. The black wraith energy around him has almost formed and entire cloak and hood shape, still ragged and morphing around the edges. He whines, 'Ohh... that was so embarrassing... What the fuck is wrong with meee... I wanna die!! ...Again...' 1b. Close up on Guillermo as he uncovers his face to glance up at the label on the box. 1c. Repeat. Guillermo tosses his head back in renewed anguish, chin crumbling and hands curling into fists as he wails, 'This is where I belong! I'm 80s crap!!'

2a. Reverse shot of the other side of the attic, showing the stairs coming up in the far corner. On the right, (further to Guillermo's left) is a Wii Fit, a small box labeled '2000', a mannequin torso, a wooden trunk, and a tall cardboard box labeled 'fish tank, upside down. On the left is a support beam, covered canvasses, and a rolled-up rug. Nandor appears at the top of the stairs as if having crawled up them as quietly as possible, leaning in with one hand on the attic floor and the other clutching the banister. He is wearing knee high leather boots and a white robe monogrammed with the Monaco Hotel and Casino logo and has his hair wrapped up in a towel turban. He asks, with some confusion and concern, 'You are what?' In the bottom corner of the foreground, Guillermo's head pops up in shock. 2b. Reverse shot over Nandor's shoulder. Guillermo immediately snaps 'Nope' and voops into a glowing blue vapor, pouring himself into the dancing hula girl nearby. 2c. Reverse shot, wider version of 2a showing the entire left side of the attic and stairs. Nandor marches fully up the stairs and into the room towards Guillermo, fists swinging at his sides to steel his nerves. He announces, 'Guillermo, it is very childish to possess a sexy dancing hula lady when I am trying to speak with you!' In the bottom corner of the foreground, Guillermo-as-hula-girl turns around with a scowl, fists clenched, and mutters angrily 'I swear to... The one time I was counting on him to avoid a conversation...' /end ID

[feelingf1]

look after you - daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

summary: you’ve had a rough week, but daniel is there to help you through it

note: this was a request, i can’t find the ask, but someone just requested a comfort story, hope you enjoy! it’s short and sweet, just while i get back to writing <3

—————

The tears soaked your soft silk pillowcase. You were curled up in a ball of pink flowered duvets, like a caterpillar in its cocoon.

You felt empty. You couldn’t understand why. You had a great week last week, traveling to Brazil to see Daniel race. But this week? You didn’t even have the energy to get out of bed.

Your phone constantly buzzed on the dresser in the corner of your room. You knew most of those messages were from Daniel, and guilt built up in you, knowing that you were probably worrying him, but you didn’t have the energy to move.

So you went back to sleep, again.

You were awoken by a soft shaking to your shoulder. You opened your eyes and met those of the beautiful brown eyes of your partner, Daniel.

His hand cupped your cheek, “Hey, my love. Are you okay?”

You tried to smile, but your lip quivered, and before you knew it, you were crying again. You pulled the neck of your hoodie up over your face to try and hide, but Daniel cupped your face and tilted it upwards.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong doll.”

You were definitely crying now. “I’m just exhausted and sad. I don’t really know why. It’s too much for me to even move or get up. I’m sorry for-”

Daniel pressed his finger to your lip. “Don’t apologize baby. It’s been a tough day for you, yeah you had me worried, but I’m here now and I’ll help you. ‘Kay?”

You nodded, a smile growing on your face. No matter how shit you felt, Danny could always make you feel so much better.

“Okay, shower first.” You groaned loudly, knowing how much effort that would take. Daniel scooped you up into his arms and lifted you into the bathroom, setting you down gently on the sink and pulling your clothes off, before taking off his own.

“You’re coming in?” You asked.

“Yeah, I’ll wash you baby.” You felt so blessed to have somebody like him. “Thanks.” You whispered.

He lifted you into the shower, placing you on your feet. You leaned back into his body as he washed you, softly scrubbing your strawberry scented body wash all over you. He massaged your head whilst he shampooed it. He made you feel like a queen.

He wrapped you in a heated towel when you got out, giggling as he struggled to wrap your hair into the turban. You couldn’t help but giggle too, pieces of hair falling out every side. He dried you so delicately, like you were a glass doll about to shatter. He then wrapped you in your favourite clothes.

Also known as his clothes.

He swooped you up bridal style again, carrying you downstairs to your shared kitchen. He plopped you up on the kitchen island whilst he got himself busy, readying something for you.

You lay on your back on the island, studying the plastered ceiling like it was the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen.

“So, wanna talk about how you’re feeling?” Daniel asked, rummaging through the cupboards.

“Uh, not really, to be honest.” You sighed.

“Okay, then we won’t mention it.” Daniel replied. He grabbed his phone, turning on Taylor Swift, before busying himself again.

You hummed along to the music, watching Daniel’s attempt to scramble eggs. He presented you with a dish that would have horrified most chefs with the sight of it, but you were so grateful, you couldn’t care less.

“Thanks Danny.” You said, making your way off of the counter, collapsing into the tall stool. He brushed your hair while you ate, making sure to put your oil through the tips too.

After you finished your eggs, you leaned back into him, closing your eyes as he placed his arms around you. You felt so much better than you had this morning, all thanks to him.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” You whispered.

“No baby, I’m lucky to have you.” He replied, placing soft kisses to your head.

“Yeah, but I should be the one minding you, after your first triple header with your hand. I feel guilty-”

Daniel cut you off, not wanting to hear your apologies. “I love taking care of you. I’ll gladly take care of you until we’re grey and old, having to shout at each other because of our terrible hearing.”

You giggled and a tear slid down your cheek, but this time it was a tear of happiness and gratitude.

“Fancy watching a movie?” Daniel asked, grabbing your plate.

“Only if it’s-”

“- La La Land” Daniel said, finishing your sentence. He knew how obsessed you were with that movie.

He picked you up once again and you headed for the living room, to binge watch movies for the evening.

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