#yoga bath mat

[oasistowels]

Wholesale Hot Yoga Towels

Stock up on premium hot yoga towels at wholesale prices. These towels offer superior absorbency and grip, making them perfect for intense yoga sessions.

[anmolsmsblog]

Yimobra Chenille Luxury Shaggy Bath Mat, Soft And Cozy, Super Absorbent Water, Non-Slip, Machine-Washable, Thick Modern For Bathroom Bedroom (24 X 17 Inch, Gray, Rectangular)

Price: (as of – Details) Product Description Soft & Warm: Yimobra luxury chenille bathroom rugs (24 X 17 inch), avoid to jumping out the wet cold tiles after the bath, the thick and soft chenille floor mat makes your feet feel the ultimate luxury enjoyment. Density and ultra plush of pile, it provides excellent comfor for your feet,means that softer and warmerSuper Absorbent: No one likes the…

[beetrootsecoliving]

Know the difference between a cotton towel and bamboo towel

Wondering what the bamboo fiber towel feels like? Discover how smooth and fluffy a bamboo bath towel can be in comparison to a cotton one. Because of their natural smoothness, they are been used in bathrooms and guesthouses all over. It’s a great option to adorn, as it has antibacterial properties and a biodegradable touch. Moreover, while bamboo towels are unknown to some, they are also a towel that can last for a long time. Bamboo bath towels also soak dampness faster than regular cotton bath towels. Depending on how thick the bath towel is, the results will change as they dry. Certain cotton bath towels are blended with polyester, making them less water-repellent.

[amalapegnolo]

Cammie Cloudlux Bra and Chelsea Luxury Candle Collection at Amala Pegnolo

Indulge in the ultimate luxury experience with our exclusive Cammie Cloudlux Bra and Chelsea Luxury Candle collection, now available at Amala Pegnolo.

Discover the perfect balance of comfort and style with the Cammie Cloudlux Bra, crafted with the finest materials to provide unparalleled support and a cloud-like feel. Embrace the confidence that comes with wearing a bra designed to contour and enhance your natural curves.

Enhance the ambiance of any space with the enchanting scents of our Chelsea Luxury Candle. Each hand-poured candle offers a harmonious blend of premium fragrances, creating a soothing and captivating atmosphere that soothes the soul and lifts the spirit.

Explore the curated selection of Cammie Cloudlux Bra and Chelsea Luxury Candle at Amala Pegnolo and elevate your daily rituals to new heights of elegance and indulgence. Whether you're seeking exquisite lingerie or a luxurious candle to set the mood, our collection is designed to delight your senses and leave a lasting impression.

Pamper yourself or surprise your loved ones with these exquisite pieces that embody the essence of sophistication and refinement. Shop now and experience the true meaning of indulgence with Cammie Cloudlux Bra and Chelsea Luxury Candle at Amala Pegnolo.

Web: https://amalapegnolo.com/products/cammie-cloudlux-bra Company: Amalapegnolo Store Address: Italy

[4theitgirls]

hot girl gift & christmas list ideas

beauty

hair gloss/hair oil

lanolips

fino hair mask

cosrx serum

rhode lip tint

- RECOMMENDED SHADES:

raspberry jelly

ribbon

cinnamon roll

philosophy 3-in-1

- RECOMMENDED SCENTS:

fresh cream

raspberry sorbet

pink frosted animal cracker

blush

gisou lip oil

rhode glazing milk

foundation

gel nail polishes/nail sets

victoria’s secret lip gloss

- RECOMMENDED FLAVORS:

candy baby

sugar high

strawberry fizz

kiwi blush

juicy melon

perfume/body care set

makeup brushes

gua sha/jade roller

cute skincare from the crème shop

false lashes/lash extensions

led face mask

electric toothbrush

under eye masks

laser hair removal/wax kit

heatless curl kit

pimple patches

body lotion

- RECOMMENDED SCENTS:

warm and cozy by victoria’s secret

the righteous butter by soap and glory

heavenly dream angel by victoria’s secret

body scrub

- RECOMMENDED BRANDS:

tree hut

victoria’s secret

bath and body works

fashion & clothing

cute pj set

workout sets

fuzzy socks

mary janes

uggs/fuzzy slippers

knee-high/thigh-high socks

basic tees/tanks/sweatshirts

health

cute water bottle

walking pad

resistance bands

eye mask for sleep

foam roller

liquid iv

light therapy lamp

hot water bottle/heating pad

hand sanitizer

yoga mat

wrist/ankle weights

miscellaneous

cute coloring book

books

palm stone

noise cancelling headphones

sofia coppola archive

throw blanket

chocolate

kindle

airpod case

phone case

speaker

candles

claw clips

perfume/body mist

- RECOMMENDED SCENTS:

warm and cozy by victoria’s secret

champagne toast by bath and body works

cupcake by body fantasies

autumn drive by bath and body works

champagne apple and honey by bath and body works

[angelicgirlmj]

100+ angelic christmas gift ideas

𓂋

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

i adore christmas - its one of my favourite holidays! so beautiful and wintery, the lights and decorations, mugs of hot chocolate, childhood memories and so many traditions make it such a special time of year for me. i however, often struggle with knowing what to ask for or what i want for christmas, so i created a little inspo list to help me and anyone else! whether this is for a family member, friend, partner or even yourself im sure this will help you know exactly what you want (or at least give you some pointers in the right direction). these are all obviously just suggestions and vary in price so please put down in the comments what you are asking for this year! enjoy angel!!

uggs

victoria secret pjs

cozy fluffy socks

laneige lip balm

lush body lotions

rose quartz gua sha

glossier makeup

dior lip oil

sonny angels

yoga mat

silk pillowcases

litre water bottle

candles

jelly cats

cute claw clips

ear warmers

books

cute planner

posters or tapestries

camera

philosophy body washes

makeup bag

sylvanian baby blind bags

slippers

matcha

records or cds

five minute journal

desk or wall calendar

eye mask and bonnet

fluffy blankets

large candles

benetint lip tint

rare beauty products

cuticle oil and glass nail file

gold jewellery

silver jewellery

knee high boots

colourful/printed tights

pocket mirror

mugs

house plants

hair band or cute hair clips

gisou hair products

highlighters

charlotte tilbury makeup

pretty nail polishes

salt lamp or other lamp

tea bags (chai, green etc)

wallet or purse

bag charms

dyson hair wrap

your fave chocolates

makeup bag

quilt

vintage room decor

fluffy/patterned rug

new phonecase

slippers

headphones

rings

belt

portable speaker

crystals

fuzzy scarf and gloves

patterned tote bag

dried flowers

fairy lights

jewellery box or trinket dish

photo album

bath oils

incense

locket

bows or pretty scrunchies

sunglasses

mini crates or storage boxes

lululemon clothes

new bedsheets

laptop case

cute pillows

hair curlers

alarm clock

vintage/thrifted clothes

picture frames

snowglobes

miniature trinkets

personalised charm bracelet

makeup brushes

diffuser

face masks

lego

coffee table books

skims

tea infuser

reusable straw

warm jacket

sports bag

keyrings

jumpers

heels

charity donation

thank you so much for reading angels! this season is such a wonderful time of year because of the ideas and ethos surrounding it; one of giving. this winter should be about our loved ones and those in need. whether you do something as simple as donating old clothes to charity or making christmas cards for the homeless, i would encourage everyone (myself included) to make it their mission to give back in at least one way. remember - angels are kind and generous inside and out! as we plan our gifts or think about shopping and the fun things to come let’s all take a moment to reflect on how we can give back.

love, m.

p.s it’s never too early for christmas!

𓂋

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[rheya28]

Ridgeview Apartment [ Apartment + Gym + Bar] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

➽ Speed Build Video

➽ Rheya's Notes:

An open/closed concept floor plan. Kitchen with all new appliances Bathroom with shower and bath Gym & Bar Panoramic view of the city

➽ Apartment Units:

1st Floor: lobby, Bar and Gym 2nd Floor [Unit 1: 3 Bed, 2 Bath] [Unit 2: 1 Bed, 1 Bath] 3rd Floor [Unit 3: 3 Bed, 2 Bath] [Unit 4: 1 Bed, 1 Bath] 4th Floor [Unit 5: 4 Bed, 3 Bath]

➽ Important Notes:

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽Lot Details

Lot Name: Ridgeview Apartment Lot type: Apartment Complex w/ gym and bar Lot size: 40x30 Location: Windenburg

➽ MODS

Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi

➽ CC LIST:

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, and tuds. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading !

Additional notes: You do not need to download all of the cc on the list as I only used 1 or 2 items from some of these set. Some items can be easily be replaced by what you already have!

I would however, download all heyharrie, pierisim, and felixandre sets that are listed as I used alot of their cc in the exterior and interior!

S-imagination : Nota Living Room [ Ceiling light Only]

Around the Sim: Shop sign [Barber sign only]

The Clutter Cat: Busy bee Pt 1 [ Green table Plant only], Dandy Diary [ Concrete coffee table only]

House of Harlix : Bafroom, Baysic, Harluxe, Livin Rum, Orjanic, Kichen

Bbygyal123: Balance Collection [ Yoga mat ]

Felix Andre: Berlin Pt 3 [ Office chair only], Chateau, FLorence, Colonial Pt 3, Grove Pt 4, Kyoto Pt 2, London Interior, Paris Pt 1 2 3, Grove

Charlypancakes: Maple &S Construction Pt 3, Soak

Harrie: Brutalist, Coastal, Klean

Joyce : Forever Autumn [ Curtains only]

Peacemaker: Graciously Georgian, Paige Armchair, Hamptons Hideaway [Ceiling light only]

Pierisim: Coldbrew, Combles, David Apartment, Domaine Du Close, MCM, Oak House, Winter Garden, Woodland Ranch

Charlypancakes x Pierisim: Precious Promises [ Chair only ]

*Ravasheen: Uplifting Elevator [MOD]

Simkoos: Everyday Clutter Add-on

Simplistic: Rustic Rug Trio

Sixam: Hotel Bedroom [ Desk only], Small spaces Laundry room

Syboulette: Fitness

Tuds: Cross

*Zulf: Let's get fit [MOD] -optional-

● DOWNLOAD Tray File and CC list: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: anrheya [previous name: applez] ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Youtube: Rheya28__

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

hii i hope you requests are still open and if not pleeease ignore this but i couldnt get this out of my head and i think that you could execute this perfectly..

toto and his wife in dts and he's like lifting weights she's doing yoga or pilates and dts just capturing how he's admiring ~ogling~ her and being in love with her and her just like ~sneakily~ drooling over him and the fans maybe going crazy over it because they're both incredibly hot and so in love (lust) with eachother and just such great couple

thank you for taking the time to read this love you and you writing! keep up the good work<3

Power Couple Rep

Word count: 1k

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader

______________________________________________________________

The gym in the Wolff household was bathed in afternoon light, with the sleek equipment gleaming under the soft glow. The buzz of the Drive to Survive cameras was unmistakable, capturing every angle, every moment between Toto and Y/n as they worked out. The film crew tried to stay inconspicuous, but it was hard to ignore the presence of lenses zooming in on every subtle glance and interaction.

Toto was midway through his dumbbell routine, lifting heavy weights with perfect precision, his arms flexing as the veins stood out prominently with each movement. Y/n was on her yoga mat, gracefully flowing through a set of pilates stretches. From the corner of her eye, she caught Toto staring at her—again. She smirked, noticing how his eyes lingered a bit too long on the way her body curved into each pose.

The camera shifted, catching Y/n’s smirk and then zooming in on Toto’s gaze, the unspoken tension between them filling the air. His intense focus on the weights faltered every few moments, his attention shifting toward Y/n as she arched her back in an especially graceful stretch. The Drive to Survive crew didn’t miss a beat, zooming in on the way his eyes followed her movements.

“You’re staring,” Y/n finally said, her voice playful but with a teasing lilt. She didn't even look his way, just called him out mid-stretch, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on him. The camera caught her smirk, and the microphone just above her head picked up every word.

Toto grinned but didn't try to hide his admiration this time. "I’m... multitasking," he replied, his voice low as he continued his set, though the cheeky grin on his face was obvious.

The Drive to Survive cameras immediately shifted to capture the tension between them—Y/n still smirking, and Toto pretending to be deeply engrossed in his workout, though everyone in the room knew he was more distracted by her than the weights in his hands.

Y/n sauntered over to him, deliberately slow, her hands resting on her hips as she approached. “Need help?” she asked, her fingers already reaching out to the barbell he was about to lift.

Toto let out a low chuckle, setting the dumbbells aside for a moment, his eyes flicking down to her hands on the bar. “I think I’ve got it,” he murmured, his eyes drifting back up to her as the camera zoomed in on their close proximity, every subtle movement between them captured.

The tension between them thickened, with Y/n stepping in closer to spot him as he lifted. Her fingers grazed the veins on his forearms as he moved the weight, and she couldn’t help but bite her lip slightly, admiring how the muscles in his arms tensed under her touch. The camera zoomed in on that too—every slight glance, every almost-touch, every breath.

“You really need to stop looking at my arms like that,” Toto teased as he set the weight down, catching her staring again. His voice was low, but he shot a quick glance at the cameras, a flicker of awareness of how closely their interaction was being filmed.

Y/n laughed, but the blush rising in her cheeks gave her away. “I can’t help it, those veins are distracting,” she said, her voice playful but full of genuine admiration. She quickly brushed her fingers across his arm again, a light touch that felt far more intimate than it looked on camera.

Toto raised an eyebrow, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel. “If they even use this footage, it’s going to look like a very different kind of workout show,” he joked, his eyes flicking toward the camera crew, who were filming every moment with a certain level of amused professionalism.

Y/n giggled, turning to glance at the Drive to Survive team behind the cameras. “Are you guys really going to keep this in?” she asked, raising her voice just loud enough for them to hear. “I don’t think it’s very... PG,” she added, her tone teasing as she threw a playful look over her shoulder at Toto.

One of the crew members shrugged but kept filming, clearly finding the whole exchange too entertaining to stop now.

Toto raised a brow, casting a glance at the nearest cameraman. “I’m not sure Mercedes wants footage of me ogling my wife while I’m supposed to be working out,” he said with a smirk, though he didn’t sound too concerned.

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “Oh, please,” she said, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “You’re just worried about what Twitter is going to say when they see this.”

Toto chuckled, wiping his hands on the towel. “Well, it’s not my fault I’m distracted,” he muttered, dropping his voice to a more suggestive tone as he eyed her again. His gaze flicked down her body before quickly returning to her eyes, and the cameras caught every second of the heated exchange.

Y/n, realizing she was still very much the center of Toto’s attention, smiled mischievously. “Well, maybe if you stopped staring at me,” she said lightly, stepping away from him and back toward her yoga mat, “you’d actually get something done.”

Toto shook his head with a grin, dropping his towel on the bench as he watched her walk away. The cameras followed his gaze, zooming in on the amused but clearly entranced expression on his face as he watched her stretch again, fully aware of the attention he was giving her.

As Y/n bent down into a deep stretch, she shot him a playful look over her shoulder, catching him staring—again. She raised an eyebrow, shaking her head as she stood back up. “You know, they’re filming everything,” she teased, her voice lilting with amusement.

Toto glanced back at the cameras with a smirk, then looked directly into one of them. “Are you sure you can even use this footage?” he asked, his voice light but genuine. “This feels more like a reality dating show than a workout.”

Y/n laughed as she walked back over to him, playfully swatting his arm. “You’re so dramatic,” she teased, but her eyes sparkled with affection.

The camera captured every moment—the way they looked at each other, the lingering touches, the playful banter. It was clear to anyone watching that their connection went far beyond just being workout partners. It was full of flirtation, admiration, and a chemistry that was impossible to ignore.

[moonstruckme]

Hey!! I’ve spent most of my day catching up on my reading goal for the year, on your blog. I love your writing!! I wanted to know if you could write something poly!marauders where the reader comes home from work early due to chronic pain (winter weather sucks sometimes), and the boys take care of them? Pls add your own spin however you see fit! Hope your day is going well! :)

And happy holidays!

Thanks so much lovely, you're too sweet <3

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Breathe, angel,” James reminds you, eyeing you worriedly as he sinks into downward dog. “Deep breaths.” 

“I’m breathing,” you sigh, following him down. The movement, the stress it puts on your legs and back, aches, but you feel better than you had when you’d come home. 

You weren’t expecting James to be here (he typically likes to get out of the house on his days off, too energetic and cabin-fever-prone to stay in) but he hasn’t let you have even a moment of peace since you’d come in the door, unannounced and several hours from the end of your workday. He’d first tried to get you to go on a walk, but the frigid weather outside is what had doomed you in the first place so he’d settled for pulling up a short, low-intensity yoga video on his laptop. 

A small part of you resents him for it, just a little. The smarter part of you is grateful. 

“Just a bit longer,” James says, likely sensing your growing discontent. “After this we can get you a warm bath. Or a massage, if you like.” 

You hum a weary thanks. Either of those sound great, but a nap would be spectacular. You want to evanesce. Sink into a sleep beyond pain. 

The serene voice on James’ laptop guides you into a cat-cow pose, but you’re only starting your first cat when you hear the click of the door opening. You turn to James in confusion. He won’t quite look at you. 

You recognize the loud clunking sound of Sirius kicking off his shoes a moment before he comes into view. 

“Ooh, yoga.” He’s smiling, but there’s a watchful quality to his gaze as he drapes himself across the sofa. “Mind an audience?” 

You shoot James an accusatory look. “Why’d you call him?” 

“Excuse me,” Sirius says, reclaiming your attention. “Do you not want me here?” 

You give up on the yoga, sitting on your mat. “I don’t want you to have to leave work,” you say quietly. 

Sirius tsks, sliding off the couch and moving closer to you. “I couldn’t have been productive while I was worried about you anyways. Figured I’d save my boss the money.” His smile slips, a tiny pucker appearing between his brows. “You alright for a hug?” 

You answer by opening your arms, and he gathers you up. He doesn’t squeeze the way he normally might, hands careful on your back, but it’s still nice. 

“How bad is it?” he asks, turning his face to mush the words lovingly into the side of your head. 

“Not bad,” you murmur. 

“I’d say it’s pretty bad,” James contends gently, “if you had to come home from work.” 

You turn your head to look at him, offering a sheepish shrug. “The yoga helped some.” 

James’ smile is lopsided, eyes flickering with relief behind his glasses. Sirius isn’t so easily convinced, loosening his grip on you so he can see your face. Despite how used to it you should be, it’s still an effort not to shrink under that gaze. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, if he finds it or he doesn’t, but a few moments later Sirius’ hands slide up to your face. He kisses the skin next to your nose lightly. 

“Let me make you some tea, sweet girl,” he says, standing. “You’ve had pain meds already, yeah?” 

You hum that you have, and James says after him, “Not the chamomile, it’ll just make her sleepy.” 

You try not to sulk as Sirius calls back, “I’m not new here, Potter.” 

James is trying to get you back into the yoga when the door opens a second time. If you hadn’t gotten there by process of elimination, the soft, considerate footfalls would have let you know who it was. 

“Oh, hi,” Remus says when he finds you and James already waiting for him. Pity softens his expression as his eyes fall on you. “How are you, dove? Is the yoga helping?”

“It was,” James grouses, though his little smile lets you both know he’s only teasing. He extends his arms out in front of him, beckoning with his hands. “Come here, give us a hug. She got to go first last time.” 

Remus doesn’t put up any argument. James stands as he comes forward, weaving one arm over Remus’ shoulders and the other under. 

“I am ailing,” you point out. When Remus angles his head on James’ shoulder to give you a concerned look, you add softly, “Not terribly, though.” 

Remus chuckles, pushing a spindly hand slowly up and down James’ spine. The other cups the back of his boyfriend’s head, sinking into his plush nap of curls. “I think you’ve worried him down to the bone,” he observes. 

There’s a noncommittal hum, followed by a muffled smacking sound as James kisses Remus’ shoulder. 

“Have you considered that I’m just soaking up all the hug I can get?” 

“Nefarious,” Remus murmurs lovingly. 

“I leave the room for two seconds, and of course a lovefest commences.” Sirius strides in with a steaming cup of tea. “It should be outlawed. I feel swindled and scorned.” 

“You got to go first,” James argues, but Remus extricates himself from his hold anyway, folding a leg under himself to sit on the couch. 

“Irrelevant.” Sirius sets your tea down on the coffee tables, using his free hand to wave James off. “Do either of you want tea?” 

“No thank you,” Remus says while James shakes his head. “You didn’t give her chamomile, did you? Because that will only—”

“No,” you all say, you rather mopily. 

You scoot towards the table and reach for your tea. Sirius settles into the couch, leaning his back against Remus’ side. 

“Alright,” James relents, shutting his laptop, “we can call it quits on the yoga. We were basically at the end of the video anyway.” His big hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Want one of us to get a bath ready for you, lovie?” 

A whole new ache starts up, right in the center of your chest. You set your tea back on the coffee table, too hot to drink, and lean your head on James’ shoulder. Your throat clogs slightly. So, so sweet to you. A bath does sound nice, but you’re not sure you can commit to it. That’s at least a half hour between you and sleep. 

“Thank you,” you say, making sure he hears the sincerity in the words, “but I think I just want to go to bed.” 

James’ sigh is so soft you think you’re not meant to hear it. “It’s a bit early for that yet,” he says, thumb swiping back and forth on your shoulder. “How about a massage?” 

“I’m tired,” you complain, and you try not to whine but a bit of it comes through anyway.  

“I know, love,” Remus says, leaning his elbows onto his knees so that his face is nearly level with yours, “but if you nap now you won’t be able to sleep tonight, and then you’ll be tired all over again tomorrow.” He reaches across the coffee table, the tips of his fingers brushing yours. “This is to help you, I promise.” 

You let your little sigh fan cool air over your tea, raising it again to your lips as you nod. 

“Go for the massage,” Sirius says. He raises his eyebrows at you, grinning like he’s letting you in on some sort of secret. “Trust me, babe. Jamie missed his calling with that one. Hands of an angel.”

You look over, and James is grinning so hugely you wonder if his ears pop. “Alright, fine.” He shrugs, feigning reluctance. “After I’m done with her, you can have next turn.”

[anmolsmsblog]

Attmu Mesh Shower Caddy, Quick Dry Shower Tote Bag Oxford Hanging Toiletry and Bath Organizer with 8 Storage Compartments for Shampoo, Conditioner, Soap and Other Bathroom Accessories, Grey

Price: (as of – Details) Attmu Mesh Shower Caddy, Quick Dry Shower Tote Bag Oxford Hanging Toiletry and Bath Organizer with 8 Storage Compartments for Shampoo, Conditioner, Soap and Other Bathroom Accessories, Black Are you tired of having to wait forever for your shower bag to dry? Having trouble finding your shampoo bottle or razor? Fed up with cleaning spilled shampoo or body wash out of the…

[beetrootsecoliving]

WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A COTTON TOWEL AND A BAMBOO TOWEL?

Wondering what the bamboo fiber towel feels like? Discover how smooth and fluffy a bamboo bath towel can be in comparison to a cotton one. Because of their natural smoothness, they are been used in bathrooms and guesthouses all over. It’s a great option to adorn, as it has antibacterial properties and a biodegradable touch. Moreover, while bamboo towels are unknown to some, they are also a towel that can last for a long time. Bamboo bath towels also soak dampness faster than regular cotton bath towels. Depending on how thick the bath towel is, the results will change as they dry. Certain cotton bath towels are blended with polyester, making them less water-repellent

[amalapegnolo]

Discover the ultimate convenience of self-care shopping at our online store – Buy Soap & Bath online and treat yourself or your loved ones to a blissful bathing experience. Indulge in a delightful array of high-quality soaps, luxurious bath essentials, and nourishing body wash gift sets. Our carefully curated selection offers a variety of scents and formulations to cater to all preferences and skin types. Whether you seek relaxation or invigoration, our Soap & Bath products have you covered. And for those special occasions, don't miss the chance to Buy Body Wash Gift Sets – beautifully packaged, ready to pamper and uplift the senses. Elevate your self-care routine with us today!

[lewisyellowhelmet]

pursuit of happiness

lewis hamilton x actress!reader

summary: 18+!!!! general m/f s*x acts. reader is a well known actress with a recent scandal, who escapes to lewis for some peace.

read everything else here!

In Singapore, the heat clings to her. Even in the airport, with her sunglasses on, head down, overly focused on the boots of the security guard in front of her who steps a path through the crowd, she can feel the humidity. The flashes of the cameras makes her ears ring, a threatening headache quickly becoming ominously real. 

She remembers when this onslaught made her giddy, when she would try and meet everyone's eye, smile, shake hands. Always new places, always new people. The shame of walking with her face lowered, crowded in by looming men, makes her want to be sick. Still, the questions screamed at her have long become too prying, the autograph hunters too needy, the photographers too scary. 

The car is waiting for her, sleek and black. She’s hustled from the opening doors of the terminal, into the warm bath of tropical air, and then into the air conditioning, leather seats. The door slams behind her, enclosing her in the cab, and the driver is already pulling away, leaving a throng of people half spilling out into the road after her. She knows what they want. She won’t give it to them. 

The hotel room is empty. But there are leftover parts of him. A used towel in the bathroom. A watch next to the beside table, silver and chunky. There’s a yoga mat on the balcony. Her phone is buzzing, maddeningly. She has a sudden urge to throw it off the building. She puts it in the mini fridge instead, on silent. The king bed is expansive, crisp and white. The air in the room is cool and artificial, whirring reliably in the ceiling. When she crawls into bed, the sheets still smell like him. He sleeps on the left, and she tucks his pillow into her body, imagines the feel of his skin on hers, the rustle of his hair, the press of his hand. She falls asleep, bathed in bright sunlight. 

When she wakes, the room is dark, and there’s someone walking around. She is not unused to strangers in her space, interfering with her things, minders and assistants and stylists. If she snoozes her alarm too many times, someone will always come in, open the blinds, waft a coffee under her nose. But this person is sitting beside her now, covering her hand with their own, warm and solid. She blinks open sticky eyes. Lewis is smiling, reaching to stroke the hair off her face. It’s a new colour, bleached and cut short, for the new part that will start filming next week. 

  “It’s quarter past seven,” Lewis says. He always wakes her with the time. A way to centre herself, to adjust. It’s fifteen minutes past seven here, in Singapore, where she is, with him. Her mouth feels dry, her tongue thick. Her limbs are lazy. 

  “How long have you been here?” She says, slurring her words. 

  “Only a few minutes. I’m about to go to dinner if you want to come.” 

  “I don’t want to go anywhere.” 

Lewis looks disappointed in her, for a moment, but the expression passes off his face like it was never there. Shame curdles in her belly. The headache is still striking against her temples. 

  “It’s a private place, there won’t be any photographers,” Lewis says. 

  “But people will know.” 

Lewis strokes over her head a final time, his hand solid and welcome, “Yes, probably.” 

  She groans, and rolls away from him, so he can’t see how her eyes are getting wet and sore. She wants to crawl deeper into the bed and never come out, never be seen by anyone else. The bed shifts as Lewis stands up. 

  “I don’t know how long I’ll be,” he says. 

  “Wait,” she says, muffled, but doesn’t remove her head from where it’s stuffed into the pillow. The fabric is getting damp around her mouth. She can’t get enough oxygen. She can feel him watching her. 

  When she lifts her head up, she’s breathing hard. Her headache throbs. 

  “Let me get dressed,” she says. 

The restaurant is at the bottom of the hotel, easily accessible to the public, but the host guides them to a private room that has windows into an enclosed garden, a water feature trickling. Lewis is handed a completely vegan menu. She doesn’t feel hungry at all, it’s the middle of the night in L.A., and orders a vodka soda. 

  “He said the marriage was over,” she says, when she can’t hold it in any longer. Lewis is chewing polenta. He looks at her for a long time. He’s ordered an expensive bottle of red wine, which she knows she will drink most of. 

  “Did you believe him?” He asks, eventually. She stares at the three scallops in front of her, picturesque on their clean pink shells. 

  “Yes,” she says. 

  “Why?” 

Her voice is sticking in her throat. She has to eat a scallop so she doesn't start to cry. 

  “I guess he’s a good actor.” 

Lewis laughs, and she has to smile. The ice in her vodka soda rattles as she sucks down the last of it. 

  “How did it start?” Lewis asks. 

She thinks about saying she doesn’t want to talk about it, that it’s too hard, but his expression is earnest and his eyes are dark and liquid and she wants to dive into them, curl up around his pupil and rest there. 

  “We went out in Rome one night. The other actors and crew as well, but everyone started to head back and we went to this bar in the old city. He touched my knee. He was so nice and interested in me and he promised that he didn’t even live with her anyone, they just pretended so the kids would’t have to deal with the media. He even said the kids were fine with it, everyone was happier now. We walked back to the hotel. He invited me to his room for a drink. I wanted to go, you know. I wanted him to ask me.”

  She has been telling most of the story to the garden and it’s fountain. It’s hard to look at Lewis. He listens carefully. 

  “We slept together every night of the shoot after that. We tried not to let it show on set but it was pretty obvious. One weekend we went to Venice, and the photos. I’m sure you saw them. It was fucking everywhere. I was so angry at him for letting it happen but of course he had no control. No one does. His wife called. We couldn’t leave the hotel because there were so many photographers. Somehow people even got in so I couldn’t leave the room. The security from Rome had to come all the way out and get us. Then his wife somehow got my number.”

  She hasn’t been able to delete the texts yet. She’d read them on the flight to Singapore even, scrolling through. The marriage, it seemed, was not over. 

  “Anyway, we finished the shoot. I went back to L.A., he went to London. He called a few times but. It wasn’t the same. I couldn’t stop thinking about his kids. How much they must hate me. Still,” she shrugs, and tries to smile, but imagines it as ugly and painful, “good press for the movie, I guess.” 

  The waiter has come in, discreet, and pours her a glass of wine, clears their entrees. Her throat feels sore and thick. Lewis is quiet, thanks the man. 

  “Why did you come here?” He asks, after the door has shut with a muffled sound, and it is just them, the wine, and the trickling water. 

  She laughs, but it sounds wet. 

  “I have no idea. You offered. I needed to get away from L.A.”

He sips his wine, and she forgets to look away when his tongue darts out to smooth over his bottom lip as he puts the glass down. 

  “I’m sorry that happened to you,” he says, calm and steady. The sympathy makes her stomach turn over. 

  “Don’t say that, it’s my own fault.” 

Lewis shakes his head, and looks so sad she has to pick up her own glass, take two big mouthfuls, let it stain her mouth. 

  “How’s the season going?” She asks, to change the subject. He sighs. The waiter comes back in with their mains. Somehow they begin talking about something else, careful guided away from both her affair and F1. She almost manages to forget whats happened. 

She stands in the elevator facing so she can watch the numbers climb up as they soar into the sky. The food has pushed the headache momentarily away, and the alcohol is making her loose limbed. Lewis touches her waist gently as they leave the elevator and begin the short walk down the corridor to his suite. Only when he unlocks the door and steps aside for her to go in first does she remember to say, “Did you want me to get my own room?”

 “Don’t be stupid,” he says, “Old friends, right?”

  She laughs as she follows him in, “Sure, old friends.” 

They finish the bottle of wine on the balcony, the heat still thick and clinging. The city moves around them, engines revving, lights changing. She throws her bare legs over his lap, and he strokes her shin, the callouses on his palm soothing. They talk aimlessly, small jokes, old gossip. She wonders if her phone has frozen in the minifridge yet. Which agent or manager has boarded a plane to come and collect her. Lewis starts to yawn when the moon is high, and they go back inside to the air-con. 

She showers first, the water and citrus body wash sluicing the days sweat off her, remaking her, clean and new. Lewis’s toiletries are spilled over the counter. She lifts his bottle of cologne to her nose while she brushes her teeth. 

  When he takes his turn in the bathroom, she flips through the channels on the big television, tucked into the crisp sheets, propped up against too many pillows. The TV is the only light in the room, flickering and constantly changing. She feels exhausted, and like sleep has never been further away. She has not retrieved her phone from the fridge. They’ll find her somehow. They always do. 

Lewis wears soft pyjama pants to bed, low on his hips. She's wearing one of his t-shirts. They’re wet hair tangles as she slouches into his shoulder, tucked into the crook of his armpit while they watch Singaporean news. During the entertainment portion, an image of her in her huge sunglasses at the arrival terminal pops up. She looks pale and sickly in the video. Lewis turns the television off. 

  “It’s okay,” she says, interrupting him saying, “I’m tired, anyway.” 

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” She asks, still leaning against him. His arm is around her, heavy and solid. She feel his chin against her skull. 

  “It’s the race. I’ll be out all day.” 

  “Alright.”

  “When do you have to leave?”

  “Whenever they come and fetch me.” 

  “Maybe if you stayed for the race. Came to the grid. We could make sure you get interviewed, it might distract everyone from. What’s just happened.” 

  She turns her face into his chest, wanting to become one of his tattoos, imprinted on his skin. 

  “Or not,” he says, quietly.

  “I can’t think about it right now,” she says. 

  “Okay,” he soothes. He’s touching her hair, the wrong colour, the wrong length. She feels outside of her own body, even as she tries to cram into his. She touches his stomach, just her fingertips, scratching lower to the line of his waist, his hips bones. He says her name against her forehead, his lips brushing over her skin. 

  “We don’t have to,” Lewis says. 

  “Do you want to?”

  “Of course,” he breathes. 

  “I want to,” she says. 

She lets her head fall lower over his chest, down his abdomen so she can drag her mouth over the muscle there, kiss over his navel, the brush of hair under her mouth as she finds the waistband of his pyjamas. Lewis is sighing and twitching, his hand in her hair. The pressure is familiar, no push, just a warmth. She can feel him against her chin as she laves her tongue over his hip, already hard and wanting. His skin is goose bumped, anticipating. She never wants it to end, wants to keep him dangling on the edge, waiting and waiting. 

He lifts his hips for her to wriggle his pants off him, down the muscle of his thighs, the curve of his knees. Lewis grabs at her (his) t-shirt, pulling it over her head and off so he can sweep his hands over her shoulders, cup her breasts in his hands, smiling dopely at her as his thumbs swipe over her nipples, make her gasp. His cock stands red against his belly, leaking wet. She lowers her head to lick up the length of it, suck him into her mouth, salty and hot. He groans, and his hands tangle in her hair, guiding her rhythm. It’s so easy to fall back into it, remembering him, one hand around the base of him, the other against his hip, bracing herself. He keeps her hair out of her face, mumbles nonsense to her, about how good she is, how amazing it feels. She pulls off to drool over him, let him see the mess he’s made, lick kitten like at the swollen tip. Lewis moans, instinctual from his chest. 

  “Baby,” he says, hips knocking up unconsciously, “Baby, please.” 

  “What do you want?” She asks, her hand slicking up and down the length of him, the sounds lewd. 

  “I want you. I just want you. So badly, please.” 

  “Where do you want me?”

  “Anywhere,” he’s grinning, mouth wet, cheeks flushed, “Anywhere.” 

She sits herself up on her knees, and he whines as she lets go of him, takes his face in her hands. He kisses her messy and desperate, his tongue between her teeth. He drags at her hair, and the tingling pain of it makes her groan into him. 

  His hand between her legs, stroking, spreading her wetness. She has to stop kissing him to breathe, their noses knocking together, dropping her head into the crook of his shoulder to pant as he slips a finger into her, another, crooks them just right and fucks her with his hand. 

  “I know,” he croons, as she shudders against his chest, “I know, feels good, huh?” 

  “Yes,” she gasps, meeting his hand with her hips as an orgasm curls in her belly, “It’s s’good.” 

  “Come for me, baby,” he whispers against her ear, his mouth hot. She keens and falls limp against him, sat half in his lap as she comes, his hand trapped between her legs. Her body keeps rocking unconsciously against him as she settles, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the pulse of his jugular against her mouth. 

  Lewis soothes her, kissing the side of her face, the line of her bare shoulder, his fingers still tucked inside her. She can feel the way their skin is sticking together with sweat already. She doesn’t mind it.

  She reaches between them, where he’s resting against the inside of her thigh, hot and stiff, flinching when she rubs her thumb over the tip. 

  “You want me?” She asks, can’t look him in the eye, her head under his chin. 

  “Yes,” Lewis breathes, fucking into her hand, “Always.” 

She shifts, gets her leg over his hip so she’s hovering above him, nudging the head of his cock against herself, teasing. Lewis is breathing hard, his chest shiny, his shoulders big. He’s watching her with big, dark eyes. When she lets him inside, he curses. Fists curling into the bedsheets. 

  It feels otherworldly, having him slip into her, thick and long and good. Fills her up in a way she can never explain. It knocks the breath out of her. Her knees press into his hips, her head drooping down to press her forehead against his. His mouth is open, pink and bitten. 

  “Oh my god,” she rasps, pulling herself up and down again. He slides deeper the second time. Lewis groans, and screws his eyes shut. His big hands find her waist, grabbing at her bum, helps her lift herself and drop down, finding a rhythm. 

  “Oh, fuck,” he pants, “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck.” 

She loses the strength to speak, lets him fuck up into her, her arms around his shoulders. She cries out when he moves, stays inside her as he lays her out on her back, pulls her legs out and wide so he has the space to drive into her, keep her there, half crying and writhing. It’s so good it blinds her. 

  “Is that what you wanted? Is this what you needed?” Lewis is asking her, he’s slowing down so she feels every thrust, right to the core of her. She struggles to prop herself up on her elbows, watching where their bodies meet, a perfect coupling, his hips knocking into hers. 

  “Yes,” she tells him, grabbing at the muscle of his bicep, yanking him down so she can kiss him, still telling him yes, yes, yes. 

  She comes again, flat on her back, her knees over his shoulders, adrift in the ocean of him, trusting him to fuck her through it, go easy on her when she starts to shake. 

  “It’s okay,” he murmurs, bent low over her, his mouth by her jawline, “You’re okay, you’re so good, you feel so good.” 

  She holds onto him, anchored by him in the swathe of bedsheets, in the mess of her life. 

  “Please,” she asks, wrapping her legs around his waist, urging him in closer, deeper. She does’t know what she’s asking for. To keep going? To save her? To take her far away?

  Lewis’ movements hasten, an urgency to him as he lets go, his thumb holding her mouth open so he can pant the same air. She twists her hand into his braids, holds him there, gazes up at him as he pushes into her, again and again. His face goes euphoric, and she holds him tight against her as he comes, not looking away from her, his eyes dark and endless. 

She doesn’t sleep. Lewis breathes slow and deep, his arm over her stomach. She watches the city, curtains left open, and tries not to think about her phone in the fridge. The effect of the wine is ebbing, and everything feels starkly real and horrible again. Her legs are sore from the weight of Lewis bending her, having her, but it’s a good pain, a reminder that she has used her body. She finds herself touching his hand, his fingers, the metal of his rings. She could stay in the hotel room forever, if she wanted. Pass the time rotting away until he returned for next years race, and the next, and the next. Never take her phone out. Swim in the infinity pool. Order room service. She turns her face from the skyline, away from the daydream. 

  Lewis is angled towards her, young and ethereal in sleep. His lips are parted, jaw relaxed. She wants to kiss the very tip of his nose. It used to be like this all the time. When the television show had summer breaks, and she could just go wherever he was. Follow him around like a dog, panting at his heels. But then the breaks were filled with other projects, and then she was so busy there wasn’t even time for the show. Standing for the applause at Cannes with an empty seat beside her. Not being able to reach him for hours after because the race was delayed. Holding that heavy award in her hand, looking out over a sea of cameras and her peers, trying to call him as soon as she was off stage and it ringing through ten times before she gave up. 

  The man she’d had an affair with had asked her about Lewis. If he had to be half mad to drive the car around and around in circles that fast. Only a quarter mad, she’d said, and changed the subject. It felt wrong to hear Lewis’ name in his mouth. They accessed two different parts of her. Even in the middle of it, she knew the man was only activating something primal and childish in her, a lavishing of attention that made her feel special. Lewis, rather, made her see the worst sides of herself, encouraged her to turn and face them. He would dig under her skin, lift scabs, push her forward even when she wanted to go back. 

It’s difficult to wake in the morning. The sky is grey and low, rain patterning the window. Lewis is naked, digging through his jeans to find his phone that’s ringing an endless alarm. She rolls over onto the side of the bed he’s vacated. When he returns, the phone silenced, he slides into what little space she’s left, arranging her limp body half on top of him. He’s soft and close and warm. She tucks her face into his shoulder, breathes him, thinks about baring her teeth and biting. 

  “I have to be out in fifteen minutes,” he tells her, his voice rumbling through his chest. She whines and clings like a child. 

  “You can’t distract me today,” Lewis says, but his voice is soft and concerned, “I have the race.” 

  “When?” 

  “Tonight.” 

  “I might be gone by then.” 

She feels him sigh, her head rising and falling with his chest. 

   “Well, try not to be,” he says. 

 Maybe she can get one more day. If she hides, if she doesn’t answer her phone. 

  “Should I come?” She asks, half hidden by his neck. He goes still, but his voice is calm and measured. 

  “If you want to. I’d like that.” 

  “If people see you and me together. You know what they’ll say.” 

He laughs, and she lifts her head up to see the way his eyes shine and crinkle, “Let them say it.” 

  She kisses the corner of his mouth, and then the other side. He’s smiling. 

  “I have nothing to wear,” she says. Lewis rolls his eyes. 

  “You have all day to find something.”

  “I can’t go out.”

  “Why not?”

She frowns at him, “They’ll see me.”

  “Who? The paparazzi? The crowd? Who cares. It’s done now. The only thing you can do now is keep going.” 

  She sits up, and off him. The sheets fall from her chest and she watches Lewis try not to stare at her tits. 

  “That’s a bit harsh,” she says. 

  “It’s the truth.” 

The alarm starts going again, vibrating across the carpet, forgotten next to his jeans. Lewis throws the covers off, and makes for the shower, snatching the phone off the floor on his way. She sits back against the pillows, turns to watch the rain. The only thing you can do now is keep going. 

She tells only who needs to know that she’s going to the race. The heat is heavy and palpable. Her feet hurt in the heels, but the dress is cool where it swishes around her ankles. Someone knew someone who knew a stylist in the city, and a hair and make up artist was quick to be summoned to the room. 

  “Just make me look good,” she’d told them, and then sat quietly, let them prod and poke at her until when she looked in the mirror again, she saw no-one. A facade. An actress. The Rubik’s cube of herself she could present to the world. She smiles. She retrieves her phone from the mini fridge. 

She likes the beat in time when people realise it’s her, and before they lift their phones to take a photo. A swell in time, like the lip of a wave about to crash. Then there’s screaming, camera flashes, people calling her name. She lifts her chin and keeps moving, guided by a man in a Mercedes shirt. She refuses to think about how much the pictures will sell for to the magazines, or about twitter threads, or even what the pit crew lean to whisper to each other. Lewis is waiting for her in the garage. She has pride of place. There are more cameras on them then the track. His suit is pushed to his hips, and she can see the thrill gleam in his eyes. She smiles. She does not look at the cameras. She lets him take her into his chest. She is the one who looks up at him, and kisses him. 

Let them see. Let them all see. 

[eatmangoesnekkid]

SPREADING OPEN: THE PUSSY PRINT AS A SOURCE OF POWER by India Ame'ye, Author I spend a lot of time with my legs open, a sacred posture of real power for women but many of us can feel awkward, uncomfortable and out of place when we open up our legs. It is called "vulva power" and in folklore tales, it has been revealed that ancient women would stop wars or fight off the devil simply by lovingly spreading their legs, refracting light, and leaning back into their own generous energy— unmoved, uninfluenced, and unfazed by the opposition. What I know as an pole dancer and aerialist after observing myself so many times over the years with my legs wide and open, vulva print innocently swollen and visible, is that it is a position of pure power, not patriarchal power that looks like 'power over someone or something' but real power, power within, where you start to generate more beauty from inside your own body, no longer needy, fighting, arguing, begging, or grasping, but bathing in the sweet waves of your own energy. Legs open. Signal direct. Clear water. Power within. Power alongside. And I can honestly say that nothing has been more liberating and freeing for my female structure than opening my legs and bringing more blood and lymph flow to the tissues between my inner thighs, areas that tend to be more constricted and inflamed for most people, especially after a certain age. I am sure that I'm stronger in my body simply because I have spent so much time over the last 5 years opening up, whether stretching, dancing, doing yoga, or sitting on my mat, yoga ball, or directly on the ground. As an "legs open“ educator, I truly believe the reason so many women experience dysfunction is because the mainline to our bodies, the gateway of creation, the center of our reality, is not open. It is ignored, numb and tense or closed, shut off, and stifled. Our energy is so profoundly large and intuitive, but a lot of it is trapped because we keep our legs constantly closed when they should be more wide and open and experiencing greater air flow like our ancestral mothers. A "legs open" posture is a real source of expansion and creation. When we open up, we feel a strength and solidity to the earth that we may have never felt before, a kind of yoga with universe. All that locked up power starts to pulsate and unleash from within. And we naturally begin feel a high, a deeper level of spirituality in our female bodies, a state of love beaming from within that naturally stops wars and wards off all evil. --India Ame'ye, Legs Open Please, A Liberated Center