#Modern soap dish

[bobochen-3344-blog]

Clawfoot Victorian Bathtub Shaped Ceramic Bar Soap Dish Holder Tray Hotel Shower Decor Rest Sponge https://foreverceramic.com/product/clawfoot-victorian-bathtub-shaped-ceramic-bar-soap-dish-holder-tray-hotel-shower-decor-rest-sponge/

[articalia]

Elevating Everyday Elegance: A Guide to Choosing the Perfect Soap Holder for Your Modern Bathroom

Introduction

In the realm of bathroom accessories, the soap holder stands out as a small yet essential element that can significantly enhance the overall aesthetic of your space. This comprehensive guide delves into the world of modern soap dishes, offering insights into selecting the perfect soap holder for your bathroom. From contemporary designs to practical considerations, we explore the nuances of this seemingly simple accessory.

1. The Art of Choosing a Soap Holder for Your Bathroom:

Uncover the importance of selecting the right soap holder, transcending its functional role to become a stylish accent in your bathroom decor.

Explore how a well-chosen soap dish can seamlessly blend with modern design sensibilities.

2. Exploring Modern Soap Dish Designs:

Dive into the world of modern soap dishes, where sleek lines, minimalist aesthetics, and innovative designs redefine the traditional concept of soap holders.

Showcase a variety of contemporary designs that cater to different tastes and preferences.

3. Practical Considerations: Choosing the Ideal Soap Dish for Your Bathroom:

Discuss practical aspects to consider when selecting a soap holder, including size, material, and ease of maintenance.

Explore how functionality and style can coexist harmoniously in a well-chosen soap dish.

4. The Versatility of Soap Dish Holders:

Expand your options by exploring soap dish for bathroom holders, offering a secure and stylish way to display your favorite soap.

Discuss how these holders can add an extra layer of sophistication to your bathroom setup.

5. Soap Cases for Bathrooms: A Contemporary Touch:

Introduce the concept of soap cases for bathrooms, providing an elegant solution for keeping your soap dry and accessible.

Highlight modern variations of soap cases that complement the contemporary bathroom aesthetic.

6. Embracing Modernity: The Allure of Black Soap Dishes:

Explore the rising trend of black soap dishes, adding a touch of modernity and sophistication to your bathroom decor.

Discuss how these bold and stylish choices can become statement pieces in your bathroom.

7. Aesthetic Harmony: Integrating Your Soap Holder into Bathroom Design:

Offer tips on seamlessly integrating your chosen soap holder for bathroom design, creating a cohesive and visually appealing space.

Discuss how the soap dish can become a subtle focal point that ties the elements of your bathroom together.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, the soap holder, often underestimated, can be a key element in transforming your bathroom into a modern sanctuary. By exploring the world of contemporary designs, considering practical aspects, and embracing versatile options like soap dish holders and black soap dishes, you can elevate the elegance of your bathroom. This guide invites you to embark on a journey of discovering the perfect soap holder that not only enhances functionality but also adds a touch of modern sophistication to your daily routine.

[aoioozora]

Ghost, Gaz, Price, Vampire: [drinking tea in the rec room] Soap: Fuckin' Brits Vampire: I'm Indian Ghost: Same thing Vampire: Gaz: Price: Soap: You didnae just say that

[princessdimondheart]

Ghost: what th’a fuck is that?? *stares*

Y/N: it’s a turducken :D 🦃🦆🐓

Gaz: a what?? Looks weird as fuck

Soap: OH MA GAWD! WAS THE TURKEY PREGNANT??!?!!

Y/N: ……

Price: *facepalms* *sighs* just mash up your potatoes Soap

*TF-141 + Y/N cook and eat a delicious thanksgiving dinner*

Masterlist

[il-faut-etre-shooter]

Master Bath St Louis Example of a large trendy master white tile and marble tile gray floor and marble floor bathroom design with blue walls, furniture-like cabinets, medium tone wood cabinets, a two-piece toilet, an undermount sink, marble countertops, a hinged shower door and gray countertops

[udosystems]

Best Quality or Design Soap Dishes | UDO System

Soap dishes are an essential part of your bathroom. Transform your bathroom with unique accessories from our latest selection of soap dishes and other items. We set out to produce bathroom accessories of high quality at more reasonable rates. Visit our store and shop for the best modern bathroom accessories.

[michelepoehler]

Bathroom in San Francisco

[nyoomerr]

wowwow drabble requests! if you've got time, it'd be fun to see some of binggeyuan daily life where sy realizes that bingge DEFINITELY knows how to do/can easily learn (insert mundane modern-day life skill) but he's playing it up and asking sy to teach him in order to babygirlify himself HAHA

once bingge accidentally stumbles on the benefits of being a pathetic soggy dog for his yuan-ge, he can't help but try and replicate the effect!!

---

Things have been… weird, recently, when it comes to Luo Binghe.

Not that there’s necessarily a ‘normal’ when it comes to demonic ex-emperors living in modern China, but before, it was at least an expected weird. A constant low-lying fear for his life, sort of weird. A constant, less subtle fear for his pride because Luo Binghe is living in his messy apartment, sort of weird.

But then - 

Listen, Shen Yuan really hadn’t meant to change things to this degree, okay! It had been completely accidental! If he knew Luo Binghe would start acting like this, he wouldn’t have - he wouldn’t have…

…No, he definitely would have. 

Faced with Luo Binghe’s face, damp from tears that he couldn’t swipe away fast enough and blotchy and red and ugly from the embarrassment - 

Faced with the small, panicked hitches of Luo Binghe’s breath, and the way his mouth had fallen slightly open to try and breath through the tears - 

Faced with the way Luo Binghe’s eyelashes had matted together and his lips had shone from the way he had nervously wet them with a perfectly pink tongue, and the way his skin had smelled like salt and fear and - 

Shen Yuan has to very forcibly dismiss the thought. He frequently has to dismiss the memory of Luo Binghe crying, the smell and feel and look of it burned into Shen Yuan’s very core and yet wildly distracting. 

And… other feelings. Other feelings that had led to that first time, where Luo Binghe had cried and Shen Yuan had stared at him, enraptured, until he’d done something utterly foolish that ended up turning Luo Binghe weird!

“Yuan-ge,” Luo Binghe whines. Shen Yuan steadfastly does not look at him. “Yuan-ge, I don’t know how to do this…”

If Shen Yuan doesn’t acknowledge it, it isn’t happening! Luo Binghe will not be so - so -!

“...Yuan-ge, I really don’t know…” Luo Binghe sniffles.

Fuck!! Shen Yuan thinks. I’ve done this!! I’ve turned him weird!! I’ve turned him - pathetic!!!

“It’s the dishwasher,” Shen Yuan grits out, still refusing to look. “You have definitely used the dishwasher before.”

“No,” Luo Binghe lies, “I’ve been washing things by hand because I didn’t trust your machine to get it right.”

“Then wash it by hand this time too,” Shen Yuan says mercilessly.

“...I cut my hand making dinner earlier, so the dish soap would sting.”

Shen Yuan turns to look at Luo Binghe, confused. “What? Can’t you just heal it -”

There’s a moment that seems to happen in slow motion: Shen Yuan catches Luo Binghe’s eyes, and they look very, very satisfied, in the dangerous way that a manipulative little bitch looks before getting you exactly where they want you. 

Caught you, that expression says.

And then Luo Binghe’s expression morphs into one that actually matches the whiney tone he’d been using, his eyes going wet and shiny and his lips pursing in a devastating pout. Shen Yuan… really never should have looked, no matter what lines Luo Binghe threw out!!

“Yuan-ge, come show me?” Luo Binghe simpers. 

Shen Yuan tries to look away. His gaze catches on the way Luo Binghe’s face is starting to turn a ruddy pink, and the perfect pearl of liquid pooling in the corner of one of his eyes. He fails to look away.

Still, he valiantly tries to resist. “...Just press the button, Binghe.”

“Which button? There’s - there’s so many, Yuan-ge…”

Shen Yuan swallows thickly. His mind is replaying the sound of Luo Binghe’s voice cracking over and over and over.

“The - the one that says ‘start,’ obviously, stop asking questions you already know the answer to -”

Luo Binghe sniffles. It’s an ugly wet snotty sound, and Shen Yuan should be grossed out by it and should be able to look away. 

Shen Yuan’s eyes follow the movement of a tear falling in a sad wet line down Luo Binghe’s cheeks instead, enraptured. 

Still, he manages to stay right where he is, not coming a step closer to Luo Binghe where he stands by the dishwasher. It’s a little late to fix this weirdness from Luo Binghe entirely, but - maybe it can be mitigated if Shen Yuan stops feeding into it!

There’s a moment of silence, the two of them only staring at each other. 

Then - Luo Binghe’s expression doesn’t change entirely, but there’s suddenly an edge to it that wasn’t there before. It doesn’t quite suit the pathetic, wet look he’d clearly been leaning into a moment prior, but - 

Shen Yuan swallows again uselessly. It suits Luo Binghe very, very well, looking clever and manipulative even as he cries.

“If I ask the question I really want to know the answer to, then,” Luo Binghe says slowly, sniffling for dramatic effect, “will you promise to answer it?”

Shen Yuan definitely should not agree. 

“Okay,” he agrees weakly.

“Then: how much more do I have to cry before Yuan-ge decides to top again tonight?” Luo Binghe asks sweetly, even as another tear slides down his face.

…Ah, fuck, Shen Yuan really went and messed up a perfectly good stallion protagonist!! 

[katajainen]

Personally, I think that in a Modern AU, Gimli would be the one with two full shelves of beard and hair care products in the bathroom cabinet, while Legolas would run out of shower gel, shrug and wash himself with dish soap.

[najia-cooks]

[ID: Two large flatbreads. The one in the center is topped with bright purple onions, faux chicken, fried nuts, and coarse red sumac; the one at the side is topped with onions and sumac. Second image is a close-up. End ID]

مسخن / Musakhkhan (Palestinian flatbread with onions and sumac)

Musakhkhan (مُسَخَّن; also "musakhan" or "moussakhan") is a dish historically made by Palestinian farmers during the olive harvest season of October and November: naturally leavened flatbread is cooked in clay ovens, dipped in plenty of freshly pressed olive oil, and then covered with oily, richly caramelized onions fragrant with sumac. Modern versions of the dish add spiced, boiled and baked chicken along with toasted or fried pine nuts and almonds. It is eaten with the hands, and sometimes served alongside a soup made from the stock produced by boiling the chicken. The name of the dish literally means "heated," from سَخَّنَ "sakhkhana" "to heat" + the participle prefix مُـ "mu".

I have provided instructions for including 'chicken,' but I don't think the dish suffers from its lack: the rich, slightly sour fermented wheat bread, the deep sweetness of the caramelised onions, and the true, clean, bright expressions of olive oil and sumac make this dish a must-try even in its original, plainer form.

Musakhkhan is often considered to be the national dish of Palestine. Like foods such as za'tar, hummus, tahina, and frika, it is significant for its historical and emotional associations, and for the way it links people, place, identity, and memory; it is also understood to be symbolic of a deeply rooted connection to the land, and thus of liberation struggle. The dish is liberally covered with the fruit of Palestinian lands in the form of onions, olive oil, and sumac (the dried and ground berries of a wild-growing bush).

The symbolic resonance of olive oil may be imputed to its history in the area. In historical Palestine (before the British Mandate period), agriculture and income from agricultural exports made up the bulk of the economy. Under مُشَاعْ (mushā', "common"; also transliterated "musha'a") systems of land tenure, communally owned plots of land were divided into parcels which were rotated between members of large kinship groups (rather than one parcel belonging to a private owner and their descendants into perpetuity). Olive trees were grown over much of the land, including on terraced hills, and their oil was used for culinary purposes and to make soap; excess was exported. In the early 1920s, Palestinian farmers produced 5,000 tons of olive oil a year, making an average of 342,000 PL (Palestinian pounds, equivalent to pounds sterling) from exports to Egypt alone.

During the British Mandate period (from 1917 to 1948, when Britain was given the administration of Palestine by the League of Nations after World War 1), acres of densely populated and cultivated land were expropriated from Palestinians through legal strongarming of and direct violence against, including killing of, فَلّاَحين (fallahin, peasants; singular "فَلَّاح" "fallah") by British troops. This continued a campaign of dispossession that had begun in the late 19th century.

By 1941, an estimated 119,000 peasants had been dispossessed of land (30% of all Palestinian families involved in agriculture); many of them had moved to other areas, while those who stayed were largely destitute. The agriculturally rich Nablus area (north of Jerusalem), for example, was largely empty by 1934: Haaretz reported that it was "no longer the town of gold [i.e., oranges], neither is it the town of trade [i.e., olive oil]. Nablus rather has become the town of empty houses, of darkness and of misery". Farmers led rebellions against this expropriation in 1929, 1933, and 1936-9, which were brutually repressed by the British military.

Despite the number of farmers who had been displaced from their land by European Jewish private owners and cooperatives (which owned 24.5% of all cultivated land in Palestine by 1941), the amount of olives produced by Palestinians increased from 34,000 tons in 1931 to 78,300 in 1945, evidencing an investment in and expansion of agriculture by indigenous inhabitants. Thus it does not seem likely that vast swathes of land were "waste land," or that the musha' system did not allow for "development"!

Imprecations against the musha' system were nevertheless used as justification to force Palestinians from their land. After various Zionist organizations and militant groups succeeded in pushing Britain out of Palestine in 1948—clearing the way for hundreds of thousands of Palestinians to be dispossessed or killed during the Nakba—the Israeli parliament began constructing a framework to render their expropriation of land legal; the Cultivation of Waste Lands Law of 1949, for example, allowed the requisition of uncultivated land, while the Absentees’ Property Law of 1950 allowed the state to requisition the land of people it had forced from their homes.

Israel profited from its dispossession of millions of dunums of land; 40,000 dunums of vineyards, 100,000 dunums of citrus groves, and 95% of the olive groves in the new state were stolen from Palestinians during this period, and the agricultural subsidies bolstered by these properties were used to lure new settlers in with promises of large incomes.

It also profited from the resulting "de-development" of the Palestinian economy, of which the decline in trade of olive oil furnishes a striking example. Palestinian olive farmers were unable to compete with the cheaper oils (olive and other types) with which Zionist, capital-driven industry flooded the market; by 1936, the 342,000 PL in olive oil exports of the early 1920s had fallen to 52,091 PL, and thereafter to nothing. While selling to a Palestinian captive market, Israel was also exporting the fruits of confiscated Palestinian land to Europe and elsewhere; in 1949, olives produced on stolen land were Israel's third-largest export. As of 2014, 12.9% of the olives exported to Europe were grown in the occupied West Bank alone.

This process of de-development and profiteering accelerated after Israel's military seizure of the West Bank and Gaza in 1967. In 1970, agriculture made up 34% of the GDP of the West Bank, and 31% of that of Gaza; in 2000, it was 16% and 18%, respectively. Many of those out of work due to expropriated or newly unworkable land were hired as day laborers on Israeli farms.

Meanwhile, Palestinians (and Israeli Palestinians) continued to plant and cultivate olives. The fact that Palestinians do not control their own water supplies or borders and may expect at any time to be barred by the military from harvesting their fields has discouraged investment and led to risk aversion (especially since the outmoding of the musha' system, which had minimized individual risk). In this environment, olive trees are attractive because they are low-input. They can subsist on rainwater (Israel monopolizes and poisons much of the region's water, and heavily taxes imports of materials that could be used to build irrigation systems), and don't require high-quality soil or daily weeding. Olive trees, unlike factories and agricultural technology, don't need large inputs of capital that stand to be wasted if the Israeli military destroys them.

Olive trees are therefore the chosen crop when proving a continued use of land in order to prevent the Israeli military from expropriating it under various "waste" or "absentee" land laws. Palestinians immediately plant olive seedlings on land they have been temporarily forced from, since even land that has lain fallow due to status as a military closed zone can be appropriated with this justification. The danger is so pressing that Palestinian agronomists encouraged this habit (as of 1993), despite the fact that Israeli competition and continual planting had lowered olive crop prices, and despite the decline in soil quality that results from never allowing land to lie fallow. In more recent years, olive trees have yielded primary or supplementary income for about 100,000 Palestinian families, producing up to 191 million USD in value in good years (including an average of 17,000 tons of olive oil yearly between 2001 and 2009).

Israeli soldiers and settlers have famously uprooted, vandalized, razed, and burned millions of these olive trees, as well as using military outposts to deny Palestinian farmers access to their olive crops. It prefers to restrict Palestinians to annual crops, such as vegetables and grains, and eliminate competition in permanent crops, such as fruit trees.

This targeting of olive trees increases during times of intensified conflict. During the currently ongoing olive harvest season (November 2023), Gazan olive farmers have reported being targeted by Israeli war planes; some farmers in the West Bank have given up on harvesting their trees altogether, due to threats issued by organized networks of settlers that they would kill anyone seen making the attempt.

The rootedness of olive trees in the history of Palestine gives them weight as a symbol of homeland, culture, and the fight for liberation. Palestinian olive harvest festivals, typically celebrated in October with singing, dancing, and eating, have inspired similar events elsewhere in the world, aimed at sharing Palestinian food and culture and expressing solidarity with those living under occupation.

Support Palestinian resistance by calling Elbit System’s (Israel’s primary weapons manufacturer) landlord, donating to Palestine Action’s bail fund, and donating to the Bay Area Anti-Repression Committee bail fund.

Ingredients:

For the dish:

2 pieces taboon bread, preferably freshly baked

2 large or 3 medium yellow onions (480g)

1 cup first cold press extra virgin olive oil (زيت زيتون البكر الممتاز)

1 Tbsp coarsely ground Levantine sumac (سماق شامي / sumaq shami), plus more to top

Ground black pepper

For the chicken (optional):

500g chicken substitute

5 green cardamom pods, or 1/4 tsp ground cardamom

4 cloves, or pinch ground cloves

1 Mediterranean bay leaf

1 Tbsp ground sumac

For the nut topping (optional):

2 Tbsp slivered almonds

2 Tbsp pine nuts

Neutral oil, for frying

Notes on ingredients:

Use the best olive oil that you can. You will want oil that has some opacity to it or some deposits in it. I used Aleppo brand olive oil (7 USD a liter at my local halal grocery).

If you want to replace the taboon bread with something less laborious, I would recommend something that mimics the rich, fermented flavor of the traditional, whole-wheat, naturally leavened bread. Many people today make taboon bread with white flour and commercial yeast—which you might mimic by using storebought naan or lavash, for example—but I think the slight sourness of the flatbread is a beautiful counterpoint to the brightness of the sumac and the sweetness of the caramelized onions. I would go with a sourdough pizza crust or something similar.

Your sumac should be coarsely ground, not finely powdered; and a deep, rich red, not pinkish in color (like the pile on the right, not the one on the left).

For this dish, a whole chicken is usually first boiled (perhaps with spices including bay leaves, cardamom, and cloves) and then baked, sometimes along with some of the oil from frying the onions. I call for just frying or baking instead; in my opinion, boiling often has a negative effect on the texture of meat substitutes.

Instructions:

For the onions:

1. Heat a cup of olive oil in a large skillet or pot. Fry onions on medium-low, stirring often, for 10 minutes or until translucent.

2. Add 1 Tbsp sumac and a few cracks of black pepper and reduce to low. Cook for another 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until onions are sweet, reduced in volume, and pinkish in color.

For the chicken:

1. Briefly toast and finely grind spices except for sumac (cardamom, cloves, and bay leaf). Filter with a fine mesh sieve. Dip 'chicken' into the pot in which you fried the onions to coat it with olive oil, then rub spices (including sumac) onto the surface.

2. Sear chicken in a dry skillet until browned on all sides; or bake, uncovered, in the top third of an oven heated to 400 °F (200 °C) until browned.

For the nut topping:

1. Heat a neutral oil on medium in a small pot or skillet. Add almonds and fry for 2 minutes, until just starting to take on color. Add pine nuts and fry until both almonds and pine nuts are golden brown. Remove with a slotted spoon.

To assemble:

1. Dip each flatbread in the olive oil used to fry the onions, then spread onions over the surface.

Some cooks dip the bread entirely into oil; others press it lightly into the surface of the oil in the pot on both sides, or one side; a more modern method calls for mixing the olive oil with chicken broth to lighten it. Consult your taste. I think the bread from my taboon recipe stands up well to being pressed into the oil on both sides without tearing or becoming soggy.

2. Top flatbread with chicken and several large pinches more sumac. Bake briefly in the oven (still heated to 400 °F / 200 °C), or broil on low, for 3-5 minutes, until the sumac and the surface of the bread have darkened a shade.

3. Top with fried nuts.

Musakhkhan is usually eaten by ripping the chicken into bite-sized pieces, tearing off a bit of bread, and eating the chicken using the bread.

Some cooks make a layered musakhkhan, adding two to three pieces of bread covered with onions on top of each other before topping the entire construction with chicken and pine nuts.

[billielolly]

Sims 3 Build - Brownstone Townhouse

This brownstone townhouse is perfect for a large sim family - with a nursery and all. 4 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms on a 30x20 lot.

Watch the speed build: https://youtu.be/O5xdt7HCdFU

Download here:

Patreon (free): https://www.patreon.com/posts/109702177/

Exchange:

Expansion packs:

World Adventures

Ambitions

Late Night

Generations

Pets

Showtime

Supernatural

Seasons

University Life

Stuff packs:

None

Store content:

None

Custom content:

PralineSims - P-Glass Tiles III

Wandering Sims - Gentle Leaf Pattern 3

Wandering Sims - Nocturnal Watercolor Pattern 8

missyzim - Neoclassic Build Set (Window Arched Short, Arched Door)

Martassimsbook - cmdesigns Anemone Bathroom Set (Candle, Small Mirror)

Martassimsbook - Sims 4 Parenthood Xtreme Shower Tub

ATS3 - Canister

Martassimsbook - Syboulette Millennial Kitchen (Dish Soap, Dishes Rack, Utensils Pot)

Cakenoodles - 13pumpkin Rustic Wood Floor

Martassimsbook - Ars-botanica Cup of Pansies

Martassimsbook - Cowbuild Dahlia and Delpinium Vases

Martassimsbook - novvvas Planties pt3 (Ficus Lyrata V1, Ficus Elastica, Monstera Deliciosa)

Martassimsbook - Cowbuild My Home Set Hanging Pothos Plant

Martassimsbook - Novvvas Mid Century Modern Living Room Succulent 2

Martassimsbook - Lorelea Abstract Paintings

Julietsimscc - Dolce Vita Paintings (Small + Medium Frame)

Julietsimscc - Giveaway Gift Paintings (Without Borders)

Wandering Sims - Summer String Pictures 1

Wandering Sims - Summer String Pictures 2

johziii - Irene Posters

cozygirlsimmer - simkoos Simple Modern Tumbler

PralineSims - Beautiful Sheep Rug 4

PralineSims - Contemporary Carpet 32

Onyxium - Newell Rug

Angela - Michelle Bedroom Mirror

TheNumbersWoman - Shabby Chic Elite Living Curtains One Tile

TheNumbersWoman - Shabby Chic Elite Living Venetian Blinds 1 Tile Short

NynaeveDesign - Lyne Curtains 2x1

ATS3 - Toothbrush #2

Martassimbook - PsychicPeanutKitty December Clutter Books

Wandering Sims - Kids Wall Art 9

Wandering Sims - Kids Wall Art 14

Wandering Sims - Kids Wall Art 15

pyszny16 - Reading Corner Bookshelf

pyszny16 - Kilburn Bedroom Calendar

Julietsimscc - CWB Kids Bedroom Freebies (Unicorn Head, Teddy Bear)

Martassimsbook - Syboulette Dreamy Set Rug

ATS3 - Coastal Crib

ATS3 - Tam-Tam Bedroom Dresser

ArtVitalex - Kiester Bench

ATS3 - Apron

ATS3 - Rack with Chopping Board & Knives

ArtVitalex - April Kitchen

Lulu265 - Lily Dining Mirror

ArtVitalex - Rowlett Key Bowl

Mutske - Medium Palm

ArtVitalex - Ullery Living (Rug, Seat Double, Seat Single)

[bobochen-3344-blog]

Ceramic Self Draining Golden Thunder Soap Dish Holder Love Wedding For Hotel Shower Bathroom Kitchen Bath Easy Clean Dry Extend Soap Life https://foreverceramic.com/product/ceramic-self-draining-golden-thunder-soap-dish-holder-love-wedding-for-hotel-shower-bathroom-kitchen-bath-easy-clean-dry-extend-soap-life/

[articalia]

Elevate Your Bathroom Aesthetics: The Ultimate Guide to Choosing the Perfect Soap Dish Holder and Contemporary Soap Cases

Introduction In the world of bathroom accessories, the soap dish holder takes center stage, seamlessly combining functionality with style. This comprehensive guide explores everything you need to know about soap dish holders, soap cases for bathrooms, and the timeless elegance of black soap dishes. Join us as we navigate through the latest trends and innovative designs to help you make an informed decision for your bathroom.

Choosing the Right Soap Dish Holder The soap dish holder is more than just a utilitarian accessory; it's an opportunity to add a touch of sophistication to your bathroom. We'll delve into the world of soap holders, discussing various materials, styles, and installation options. Whether you prefer a wall-mounted soap dish holder for a streamlined look or a freestanding one for added versatility, find the perfect fit for your bathroom aesthetic.

Exploring Modern Soap Dish Designs As we step into the modern era of bathroom design, the soap case for bathroom has undergone a transformation, with contemporary designs blending form and function seamlessly. Discover the latest trends in modern soap dishes, ranging from sleek minimalism to bold, artistic statements. Explore how these innovative designs not only keep your soap dry and within reach but also serve as stylish focal points in your bathroom decor.

The Allure of Black Soap Dishes For those with a penchant for timeless elegance, the black soap dish emerges as a classic choice. We'll explore the enduring appeal of black soap dishes, their ability to add a touch of sophistication to any bathroom, and how they effortlessly complement various color palettes. From matte finishes to glossy surfaces, find out how a black soap dish can be a statement piece in your bathroom.

Practical Considerations for Soap Cases in the Bathroom In addition to style, functionality plays a crucial role in choosing the right soap case for your bathroom. We'll discuss practical considerations such as materials that resist water damage, easy cleaning, and the importance of proper drainage to ensure your soap stays in optimal condition. Uncover tips for maintaining hygiene and maximizing the lifespan of your chosen soap dish holder.

Conclusion In conclusion, the soap dish holder is more than just a functional necessity – it's an opportunity to showcase your personal style and elevate the overall aesthetics of your bathroom. By considering the LSI keywords and exploring the latest trends in soap dish designs, you can transform this seemingly simple accessory into a statement piece. Whether you opt for a modern soap dish, a classic black soap dish, or a combination of both, let your bathroom reflect your unique taste and create a space that is both functional and visually appealing.

[asunsetgrace16]

Evening Kisses⎪ CB98

Pairing: Connor Bedard x fem!reader

Summary: After a long, hard practice, Connor comes home to his girlfriend and a classic makeout on the couch

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, Connor giving reader hickeys, technically underage drinking since it’s set in Chicago

Notes: This is my first fic ever, so please go easy on me. I am really proud of this, since so often I write something and think it is horrible, so this is a big step for me. Based off of one of the headcanons, so this one is "secretly loves to give you hickies but always makes sure they will be covered by clothes"

masterlist⎥ navigation

Word Count: 1.1k

Connor unlocks the door with a sigh. Practice was rough and the weather has turned to shit. He toes off his shoes as the scent of onions and garlic meet his nose. A smile creeps onto his cloudy face when he thinks about the person behind the mouth-watering food. The one who sees Connor in a way nobody else can. The one who knows him. 

He grins –fully this time– when he hears the music playing softly in the background. You can take a girl out of the country, but not the country out of the girl.

“Y/N, baby, I’m home”, he calls out, hanging his coat up and grabbing his phone.

“In the kitchen” she replies just as he walks in, “How was practice?”

“Rough. Harder than normal. Defense was put through the wringer, after that last game, and Richardson made us do sprints. We have got to get our shit together. A few guys were a little green by the end. Is there anything you need help with?”

“Just grab the wine out of the fridge. I had Janelle pick it up for me.Oh, grab the salad too. Greek tonight”

Connor heads around the island to the fridge, first stopping at the stove and wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. She relaxes into him, leaning her head back on his shoulder as his temple meets hers. They stand like that, eyes closed and relishing in the feeling of each other, finally. They sway gently to the beat of the music, a classic country love ballad that is one of Y/N's favourites. Y/N’s fingertips danced along his forearms before linking their fingers. 

“I fucking hate long distance. Maybe I should try and transfer to school here”, Y/N says quietly, feeling tears well in her eyes.​​

Connor chokes up at her words, inhaling a shaky breath before he speaks. This topic is one that was discussed hundreds of times while Y/N was applying to school. They both knew it would be hard, but as they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder. 

Hearing the tears in her voice, Connor swallows the lump in his throat and replies, “I know, baby, I know it sucks. I hate it too. I wish you were here more, and that I had more time to come up to you. But we can do this, let’s not take a moment we have together for granted.”

She turns in his arms, giving him a proper hug, holding each other close. He kisses her head, then kisses her lips tenderly. Y/N rests her head on his chest and feels the low thud of his heart. Connor drops a kiss to her shoulder and moves to get the wine and salad and the pasta is dished up. They discuss the happenings of the day over dinner, the momentary sadness over being apart evaporates. Connor shares animated stories of the Foligno kids and the better parts of practice. Both Connor and Y/N are wearing equally large smiles with love in their eyes. Their combined efforts have the dishes done, leftovers put away, and kitchen cleaned in record time. 

Y/N pours a second glass of wine for the two of them and she settles on the couch, tucked into Connor’s side with his arm around her shoulders. He turns on the TV, Modern Family playing quietly as they sit in comfortable silence. Connor’s hand runs down her arm, landing low on her hip. Her hand sits in his thigh, thumb slowly rubbing back and forth. Y/N breathes deeply, inhaling the fresh scent of the soap from Connor’s after practice shower and his spicy cologne that lingers on his shirt, feeling drowsy and safe and warm. She tips her head up at him, meeting his eyes. He has a gentle smile on his face, bringing his hand to cup her cheek. Connor strokes her cheek with his thumb before tracing the line of her jaw, his eyes taking in her face, committing every detail to memory. The colour of her eyes, freckles on her cheeks, her full bottom lip. 

His thumb catches on her lip, gently tugging it open before letting it go. He dips his head to hers, their lips meeting in a chaste kiss. Connor pulls back, but Y/N slides her hand around the back of his neck and brings their lips together again. This time deeper, more intense. She pushes up into a sitting position, her other hand finding Connor’s shoulder.

He grips her hip, holding her close and steady, other hand still on her cheek. He lets his tongue press against her lips, and she opens willingly. As they sink into the kiss, Connor grabs her behind her knee and pulls her to straddle his lap. The moment is all overlapping breaths and rushed inhales, searching hands and pure love. Both of Connor’s hands are on her hips now, slipping lower to grab her ass through her jeans. Y/N’s hand threads through his hair before tangling in his grown-out curls at the nape of his neck. Heavy breaths and light moans filter through the room when Connor kisses down Y/N’s neck, dragging his tongue over her jaw. His hands slide under her shirt, wandering over her bare back. He pulls her closer by a belt loop.

He peels her shirt off, and she returns the favour. Y/N tips her head back as Connor moves down her neck and along her collarbone, sliding her bra straps down. She lets out a breathy moan and moves to clutch his shoulders, she feels the firm muscles move and ripple under his warm skin. He pauses, nipping and sucking at her skin. The air is warm in the apartment, thick with tension. His hands sit firmly on her hips. Once Connor is satisfied with the mark he left, he moves a little lower, repeating the process again, and again. 

It's a good thing it is winter, once Connor is done and moves to kiss her lips again. Y/N winces a little when his fingers brush the new bruises.

"I'm sorry baby." he whispers against her mouth.

She simply smiles and says back to him, "No, you're not, and neither am I. I love it just as much as you do."

This closeness, the intimacy of the moment is something the two cherish when they are apart. Connor pulls Y/N into his chest, holding her close. He draws shapes lightly along the bare expanse of her back, goosebumps rising in their wake. Her hands find hair, playing with the ends. Their foreheads rest against each other, eyes closed and arms wrapped around each other. Contentment and drowsiness replace hurried desire.

Connor stands, setting Y/N on her feet. Offering her his hand, he says, "Come on love, let's get to bed."

[werepuppy-steve]

steddie | M | wc: 789 | cw: none

tags: steddie dads (not a major focus), farmers steddie, modern au, light dom/sub

idk what this is. i had the image of eddie and steve and their kids on a morning before school and then it got a little steamy.

Eddie stands on the front porch in his robe and takes a sip of his coffee as he watches Steve get the girls on the bus. It's a cold morning, in the low 30's, and he chuckles as his daughters blow out hot air like they’re dragons. The sun is barely even up yet but it casts a bright glow across the frosty grass of their yard and the field across the road.

Steve and the girls do their dorky handshake once the bus pulls up and Eddie waves at them and blows them each a kiss. When the bus is around the curve down the road, Steve puts his hands in the pockets of his Carhartt and starts the trek back up the long gravel driveway, their dog Daisy trotting at his side.

Eddie goes back inside to the warmth. He drains the last of his coffee and puts the mug in the sink before he starts clearing up the mess left from breakfast, made by the mini tornadoes he calls children. As he washes the plastic kiddie plates and cups and forks, he goes through the list of what he and Steve have planned for the day since it's rare that their days off overlap.

Well. What Eddie has planned. He knows what Steve's plans are and none of them involve doing anything on the list pinned to the fridge.

The hole in the chicken coop needs patched before the ladies and their gentleman caller get snatched up by a bobcat or coyote. Eddie's been trying to find the time to go over to Wayne's and help him with the boat so he can take the girls out on the river this summer. He and Steve need to make a trip to Rural King if their oldest is seriously considering showing rabbits for 4-H.

All are things that'll take up a good chunk of their morning and afternoon. But of course, when Eddie feels arms wrap around his waist and lips press to the skin underneath his ear, he knows good and well all of it will be tossed out the window.

"Mornin', handsome," Eddie hums, leaning back into Steve's hold, his hands still submerged in soapy dishwater.

"Mornin', baby." Steve kisses Eddie's shoulder and starts to gently sway them. "The girls are gone."

Eddie chuckles. He knows the game Steve is trying to play. "Oh really? I couldn't tell, with how quiet it is."

Steve's lips trail from his shoulder to his neck. "We both have the day off."

Eddie hums in agreement, his eyes sliding shut as he tilts his head back on Steve's shoulder. "I know what you're trying to do, baby," he says. "It won't work. We have stuff to do."

Steve ignores him. "We could go back to bed right now," he says against Eddie's ear.

Eddie sighs quietly, making a valiant effort to not acknowledge the way Steve is starting to chub up.

"You could take your time." He nibbles on Eddie's earlobe and lets out the smallest moan when he starts to grind against Eddie's ass. "Open me up nice and slow so you can fuck me deep."

Eddie's own quiet moan betrays him at the thought of laying Steve out on their bed and getting his tongue and four fingers in his ass until his husband is begging for his cock.

Steve pulls Eddie's hips against him and Eddie lets him, the dishes now abandoned as he grinds back on the hefty bulge Steve's now sporting in his sweatpants. They stand there for a few minutes, Steve whimpering hotly into Eddie's shoulder as they hump like teenagers.

Eddie's melting point is when Steve whines, "Wanna use my toys, too."

He'll blame it on the fact that they haven't had the time for anything more than stolen moments while the girls are busy with homework or chores, and sleepy handjobs before bed.

Eddie drains the sink and rinses the soap off his hands before drying them on a nearby rag. He turns in Steve's arms and preens at how flushed his face is just from a little grinding.

He gets a hand between them and massages Steve's heavy cock over his pants, a dark spot already soaking the fabric. "You get five minutes to get yourself naked and on that bed," he says. "No touching yourself. Am I clear?"

Steve gasps and bucks in his grip and whines out a "yes, sir," before prying himself away from Eddie's grasp and almost tripping up the stairs.

Eddie takes a deep breath looks at the clock on the stove.

8:24am

He mentally wipes away his previous list in favor of replacing it with how many times he can make Steve come before 9:30.

[bunnys-kisses]

chain breakers (a wrestling au) - simon 'ghost' riley

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x reader rating: 18+ summary: You pinched the bridge of your nose, “You're telling me, the new Austrian guy whipped you with a CHAIN.” You sighed and put your hands on your hips, “I'm pretty sure when Mister Price said that was going to happen you went 'sure, I can take it!', and now you're on MY couch with a fuckin' whip mark on your back.” tags: wrestling au, injuries, angst/smut/fluff, oral sex (f receiving), scar kink/worship, kitchen sex, there's a lotta smut, possessive behaviour, semi-public sex, minor violence (wrestling duh), cowgirl position, there are three smut scenes in this thing, big dick!ghost, 8k words a/n: inspired by this! if you want more wrestling content, lemme know! (this was originally supposed to be a spicy pwp, but then it got outta hand). I look at Ghost's ass and go "Itadakimasu" join the my discord (18+)

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “You're telling me, the new Austrian guy whipped you with a CHAIN.” You sighed and put your hands on your hips, “I'm pretty sure when Mister Price said that was going to happen you went 'sure, I can take it!', and now you're on MY couch with a fuckin' whip mark on your back.”

  ”But it's all part of the-“ John started.

You held up a finger to him, “Johnny, shut up.”

He grimaced and looked to his friend, ”I can't help ya, good luck with the misuses.“ Then took it as his chance to leave before you turned your fury towards him.

The door clicked behind you but your gaze was on the man laid out on the couch. You didn't even want to see the damage done to his back. He was only hit once with the metal, but you could only imagine what had been done to your lover's back.

You approached closer, you seated yourself on the arm of the couch and reached for Simon's short hair, ”You're an idiot.“

He sighed, ”It made for a good show.“ His voice was low. He knew what he did was possibly unsafe. Wrestling may be 'fake', but the damage he came home with was very real.

You reached over and lifted the bottom of his fitting black t-shirt. The current reigning champion in the 'Modern Warfare' season, he basically had a target on his back for the other cast of characters that made up the league.

  ”Tell me if it hurts.“

  ”You could never hurt me.“ He said quietly.

You sighed, ”Simon Riley, this is not the time to play up the character. There's no one else here but us, now tell me if it starts to hurt.“

  ”Yes ma'am.“ He buried his face further into the pillow under his head. He soon partially lifted his body so you could get the shirt over his broad shoulders.

You held your breath as you saw the thick mark on his back. You could see every link in the chain imprinted on his skin. You were thankful that John didn't lie to you and he was only hit once.

You exhaled deeply, ”Si.“

  ”I'm sorry.“

You tossed the shirt to the side and got up from the edge of the couch. You were tempted to touch the bruise, but you didn't want to hurt him.

But you knew pain would come soon, ”Simon, I'm going to get you some ice. I need you to be still for me when I apply it to your back.“

He nodded, ”Thanks, love.“ Then exhaled deeply as well.

You smiled at his exposed, toned backside before you headed to the kitchen and grabbed one of the ice packs from the fridge.

You had met Simon a few years prior, the wrestling thing didn't start until two years after you got together. You encouraged him in whatever he needed to do, but to see him so hurt broke your heart.

It didn't matter how many times he or Soap or even Mister Price assured you it was safe, you couldn't help but worry. Because if something happened to your Simon, you'd be beside yourself.

You wrapped the ice pack in a dish towel and brought it back to him. You returned to your seat on the couch and leaned over. You hovered the ice pack over his back and sighed, this was at least better than the military.

  “Stay still, my love.” You said softly.

He hissed through his teeth, but didn't move an inch as you applied the cold to his back.

  “I know, I know.” You said softly, “It hurts like a bitch every time.” You moved the ice across the length of the mark.

He groaned into the pillow and you were trying so hard to be as delicate as possible.

You stayed like that for sometime, there was no saving his back from the wicked bruise he was going to have come morning. Soon your hand was starting to feel the chill of the ice pack. For extra measure, you leaned over to his back and placed a soft kiss against his skin.

  “I'll live.” He said.

  “Oh, I know. I can't get rid of you THAT easily.” You remarked as you got up, “I suggest you go get ready for bed. Do you want to stay on the couch or come to bed with me?”

He pulled his head up from the pillow and his dark eyes met yours. He looked exhausted on top of being in pain. He nodded and got up, “Affirmative, love.”

You chuckled softly and gave him your hand, “Then c'mon Ghost-y, let's get you to bed.” Then led him upstairs to your shared bedroom where he could get some sleep.

He slept on his stomach, there was no way he was getting to sleep on his back. He kept his head close to your chest and held your hand while he drifted to sleep. You forced yourself to stay awake until you heard his soft snoring.

This was your man, laid out beside you in bed. Fast asleep with the promise of pain in the morning. You reminded yourself that this was all a show, but yet you still worried.

You wanted him to be alright, you didn't want Simon to come home beaten and bruised in the name of entertainment. He wasn't some show pony that could have pain inflicted upon.

But there was little you could do. He was an adult man, and could make his own choices. So you found comfort in holding his hand as you curled up next to him and finally fell asleep.

-

Simon was up early, but laid in bed until you woke up. You thought he was still asleep so you started to kiss his face until he started to kiss you back.

He pulled away and gazed down at you. He smiled gently, that scar that ran down the right side of his lip, paired with another one just next to his lip. You cupped his face and he leaned into your touch.

His eyes opened and he looked at you, “Good morning'.”

You smiled at him, sleep still foggy in your mind. You kissed him once more, “Good morning my all-star.”

He chuckled quietly, “Pancakes?”

You snuggled up closer to him, “I have something else in mind. Your favorite meal... Unless your back is in too much pain.” As much as you loved having your pussy ate, you needed to make sure that Simon was comfortable as well.

He nodded, “Of course.” He placed a hand on your side and trailed it down to your ass before he pulled you even closer to him and squeeze your ass, “Anythin' for ya.”

You smiled then pulled away then guided his hands to pull down the sweatpants you slept in. Then you kicked the covers off of you as you kicked off your bottoms.

Then he kissed you. But it was hot and heavy as he grabbed your ass once more. He felt the heated flesh under his rough fingertips. Your ass was impressive, but your cheeks felt small compared to his large hand that was gripping them.

He groaned, “I love how ya feel. You're fuckin' perfect. Every time I get put through hell in the ring, I always come home to my girl.” His voice was low as he massaged your cheeks. He went back in for another kiss and felt you moan against him.

You clung onto his shoulders, thankfully the injury was closer to the middle of his back. However, you had to be careful of the healing of the older bruises on his face.

The kiss was deep between two lovers as he got on top of you. He then pulled away and went down between your legs. He pulled your underwear down as well and kissed your pussy.

He looked at you from between your legs, “Now be careful, I know how you like to... kick.”

You held the pillow under your head and squeezed your thighs around his head and draped your legs over his shoulders, “I'll be a good girl.” You giggled.

He groaned against you and felt heat radiate from his core and through his body. You gasped when you felt his tongue brush against your wet sex.

  “Fuckin' hell.” He grumbled against you before he took another soft lick. His cock strained in his pants, even if the aches in his body were fighting the urge to get aroused.

  “I love it.” You remarked, “Shit, Simon, your tongue.” Love dripped off your tongue as he began to pleasure you at a faster rate.

  “God, you taste good, love.” He grumbled before he continued to lick at you cunt. He felt your wetness got all over his lips and chin. As well as on his scar.

You thought about  that scarred lip touching your pussy that a heat flooded through you. It made your face flushed at the thought. You clung onto the pillow under your head and gently rolled your hips against his face.

Your wetness soon reached all the way to the apples of his cheeks, not to mention how he was nose deep between your folds. He inhaled your musky scent and melted against the bed, even as his legs hung off the edge. The sounds of sloppy oral sex filled the air and you squirmed against him. It felt so erotic for him to be so close to you.

  “Shit! Simon, fuck!” You whimpered, “That goddamn tongue.” You felt the heat in your body as the pleasure pumped through your veins. His tongue danced along your clit. His hot breath against your sex made you quiver.

  “Good girl.” He said in that low voice of his. His stomach was in knots the more the pleasure you had. He got pleasure out of your pleasure and soaked in all the sounds you made. It sounded erotic as all hell, the thought that he was doing this to you got a rise out of him. He squeezed my thighs around his skull the quicker he licked your pussy. Making sure every inch was covered in his spit.

Your hands then reached down to his hair as you held onto it tightly. You yanked on it roughly as another hot feeling of pleasure raced through his body. You arched your back and moaned loudly. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.

He practically melted against you and the bed the most he took pleasure in eating you out. His eyes shut gently and he held onto your legs as he tried to go deeper. He breathed deeply through his nose and his body was starting to heat up. He loved the taste of you on his tongue, it made his heart race at the feeling of you so close to him.

His head was starting to feel hazy with the lust cursing through his body. He groaned into your cunt and felt the most relaxed he had felt in DAYS.

  “I love ya.” He said quietly before he went back to what he was doing.

The room grew hotter the more he pleasured you. The sound of his devouring you pussy whole and your accompanying noises filled the room. Two lovers getting intimate with Simon engaging in his favorite pastime.

You rocked your hips against his face. His nose was against your clit as he played with your hole. You tried your best not to kick out your legs too much and his his sore spot.

The noises you made drove him crazy. The heat in his body was amplified by those sweet noises. You sounded like a dream to him.

Your leg muscles tensed more and you gripped onto his hair tighter. Yourbody tensed as you got closer to orgasm. You panted wildly as your boyfied pleasured you like it was his sole mission on his planet.

  “Shit, Simon.” You moaned loudly. You couldn't believe this was the same guy who threw other men through folding tables and put on a show almost every night. Here he was between your legs making sure that you knew who you belonged to.

That at the end of the day, you were his. And only his, there was no denying that he was quite possessive of you. He always wanted you and others to be aware that you were his and nothing was going to change that.

He was your lover, he was your soul at times. Despite all the brokenness in him. You pieced him back together and gave him a warm home to come back to. He loved you like the moon loved the sun, and you returned the love.

Those dark eyes were haunted by something, and when he was in the ring it was like he became fully possessed. And as he licked your pussy, you wondered if something else was possessing him.

You moaned loudly into the bedroom and continued to rub your clit against his nose. He groaned into your pussy and you knew he was aroused. It was plain obvious.

You'd return the favor afterwards, but for now you were trying to achieve your own climax. The heat of sex filled the room as you and your lover made love on your shared bed.

The curl of pleasure grew tighter as you felt yourself get ever so close to climax. You moaned out loud, not even trying to hide it.

  “Ah! Ah!” You gasped as you felt the tension in your body the more that he pleasures you. You weren't going to last long at this rate.

  “You taste so fuckin' good.' He purred the more he licked and sucked at your sex. Your muscle bound hottie of a boyfriend who could slam people down on the mat. He was between your legs and being as sensitive as he could be, he didn't want to bruise his loving girlfriend.

You moaned one last time before you let out a sharp inhale as you climaxed on his tongue. You kicked out your legs a little as you climaxed. It felt so good that it made your head spin. The euphoria of climax made your heart race as you tensed. But then you relaxed against the bed and panted wildly. 

He stayed between your legs for a little longer, licking your overstimulated clit to get a few more noises out of you. The bottom half of his face shone with your wetness all over it. He was a man who devoured his lover. 

You let go of his hair and laid there on the bed rapidly panting. You pushed the hair out of your face and felt the sweat on your forehead. You gazed at him still between your legs. You said, “Holy shit.” 

He pulled away and looked down at you. His face was flushed with the pleasure that raced through him. His heart was hammered in his chest and his cock was painfully hard. He deeply exhaled, “I think I need a little help, love.” 

Your eyebrows rose and you watched him move, you saw the full outline of his thick cock through his sweatpants. If your pussy could get any wetter it would have from the sight of his cock. You looked at him once more and opened your arms, “Well then, come and get it, Mister ghost.”

-

It took Simon days to convince you that the bruise wasn't as bad as it could be. Before he left for the gym after two days of you keeping him inside, he kissed you on the lips and said, ”No more chains, unless it's you and I.“

You blushed a little and pushed him away, ”Oh shush. You gave him a small smile, ”Tell Price if I see one more dangerous move, I'm going to his office to tell him off.“

He chuckled, ”I think you're the only thing that would scare him.“ He lifted his face mask over his mouth and nose before he headed to the car with his gym bag in tow.

You watched him pull out of the small driveway and head to the gym in town. You bit the nail of your thumb nervously before you headed back inside.

Your walk was a little staggered after two days of nothing but sex as a means to entice your boyfriend to stay home and not get his ass kicked once more. You knew the storyline for him in the ring, but it still didn't make you less nervous.

  ”Fuck.” You grumbled to yourself as you went to the kitchen to get breakfast before you headed to work. You sent him a quick text message with a bunch of hearts then put it down to grab what you needed.

-

That evening, you were tired after work but in an act of goodwill, John Price offered for you to come to the ring to watch Simon perform that night. You knew it was a way to prove that your boyfriend was not being beaten with a metal chain anymore.

When you got home, Simon was home. He was at the kitchen table with a plate of leftovers. You had made enough lasagna to feed the whole circuit, but Simon was greatly enjoying it.

You went over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. You leaned over and kissed on the cheek, “Do I need to examine you for more bruises or?“

  ”Nothing' happened, love. I was a good boy.“ He smiled a little, ”Johnny did get a good slap on the bruise.“

  ”Do I have to kill that Scottsman?“ You asked, semi-serious.

He chuckled, ”No, love. If I need to strangle him, I will. No need to get your hands dirty.“ Simon and John were as thick as thieves, the only time they seriously did damage to one another was in the ring.

He moved the chair back to let you sit in his lap. He smiled at you, you saw how the scars on his face moved with it. You delicately sat down on his large thigh and cupped his face. His eyes closed for a moment as he relaxed into your touch.

The ultimate sign of loyalty. His devotion to you ran deep. A lot of people loved the character of Ghost, but only you loved the man under the mask. You loved Simon Riley and for the rest of time, he was thankful for that.

You kissed the corner of his mouth where the scars were and he wrapped his strong arms around you. You felt content in his grasp as you continued to kiss his face.

  “How is it?”

  “Perfect. I was starvin'.” He remarked before he kissed you fully on the lips, he soon pulled away and as he did so he said “I like when my wife cooks me dinner.”

You looked him in the eyes, “I'm not your wife until I see that ring.” Then gave him a playful pat on the cheek.

  ”Soon, love. I'll give ya all the diamonds you want." He brushed his nose up against you, “Anything for my girl.” Then kissed your neck. He exhaled deeply against your skin, “Feelin' ya against me, has me all riled up.”

You giggled, “I'm still in my work clothes.” You pulled away and looked down at him, “Unless you want them on the floor.“

He smiled up at you, ”Of course I do. I want ya naked and bent over this table.“ Those dark eyes carried lust in them, you knew how worked up he got after a day in the gym. The blood pumping did things to him, and paired with you in his lap. It didn't help in the slightest.

You got up from his lap and took off your jacket. It was simple office clothes, you worked in front of a computer most days.

You placed it on another chair by the table. It was then followed by your skirt and white button up shirt and soon you were left in your drawers. A mis-matched pair of bra and panties, and black pantyhose.

You started to take them off, but Simon reached out to stop you. He placed a hand over top of your hand and gazed up at you.

  ”Let me, love.“ He smiled before he pulled your hands away gently and then got up. He picked you up with ease and placed you on top of the study dining table

.

He admired your beauty. He had seen a lot of nice things in his life. Sunsets in Barcelona, the thick beauty of flower fields in the Netherlands, the way the sun shone over blankets of untouched snow in Russia. But never, in his entire life, had he seen something or rather someone as beautiful as you.

  ”Si.“

  ”Yeah?“

  ”Is everything okay?“ You asked, becoming a little self conscious at the way he was staring at you. You blushed more when he put both hands on your thighs. Even with a bit of chub to your thighs, his hands made them appear small.

He smiled at you once more before he leaned in and pulled at the pantyhouse. He felt every inch of your legs as he pulled them down. Your soft skin against his hands.

You moaned once they were off and he was back at your lips once more. The kiss was tender even as his hands worked their magic to get your bra off. He loved undressing you, it was a gift to each other.

You whimpered against the kiss as you helped him get your bra off and on the floor. You then wrapped your arms around him as you moved on the table to  get closer to him.

He groaned into the kiss and held you by your bare shoulders. You looked divine, like an angel out of heaven. Sent down to make sure he was safe in the ring. His cock twitched in his loose pants.

  ”Fuck.“ He grumbled.

  ”I love you, Simon.“ You said partially out of breath as you broke the kiss, “I love you more than any woman could love a man.“ You lifted your hips off the table to help him get your panties off.

He replied as he pushed them down to your left ankle, ”I love you more than you know. If I lost you I don't know what I'd do.“ He exhaled deeply, ”If someone took you from me, I'd rip them limb from limb until they were nothin' but a bloody pulp.“

You smiled at his harsh comment, always with the violence. But you assumed that would make sense. It was Simon's whole world for a long time. Even now it was to an extent.

You cupped his face once more, ”If I lost you, Si.“ You pulled back the left side of his lip to reveal his teeth, your heart raced, ”If I lost you. I would make sure there was no peace ever again.“

He chuckled as he pressed his forehead against yours, “Boil the seas and level the mountains.” Then went in for another kiss. Hopelessly devoted to one another.

The two of you made out on the kitchen table for a while, feeling each other's warmth in the home you shared. Your heart was a rabbit's pace in your chest as you held onto the front of his shirt.

His dinner was long forgotten, he thought just this once he could have dessert before he finished his meal. His hand cupped the back of your head and he titled his back to expose more of your neck, where he laid kisses on your skin.

  “I wish we had all night, I'd take ya apart piece by piece.” He growled, “See what would make ya scream.“ He chuckled softly.

You held onto his hair, feeling the soft locks through your fingers, “Next time.” As if you two hadn't spent the previous two days having sex.

Even with you sitting on top of the table, he still loomed over you. He was close to six foot three and broad. Everything about him was big, and you knew if he didn't have to shave for wrestling, he'd be hairy too.

You swallowed back the arousal of your lover's body. He was all yours, from those dark eyes to the broad muscles, to every nick and scar on his skin. It was all yours, and you couldn't have been happier.

He took a hold on your chin gently, “My girl.” Then kissed you on the lips gently. He exhaled through his nose as he felt arousal build up in his body.  

You pulled away and he started to pull his shirt off. You gazed at his form with lust in your eyes as he revealed himself to you. The icing on the cake was the impressive snake in his pants.

He held his cock in his hand as you spread your legs a little further for him. He nodded his head slightly, his breathing became heavier, ”Such a good girl for me, ya know exactly how I like you. Legs spread open and ready to take me all.“

You nodded and leaned back on your hands to keep yourself steady. You felt so exposed to him as you said there bare in front of your lover. Your cheeks felt hot as he closed the gap between you two and hooked one of your legs around his waist.

  ”Fuckin' amazin'.“ He purred as he slotted his cock inside of you. The stretch made you clench and he soaked in your sweet sounds. Divine.

He pressed his forehead up against you and got your other leg around him. He held you by the hips, feeling your softness against his rough hands, and started to thrust his hips. He rocked your body back and forth onto his cock.

  ”That's it, that's my girl.“ He groaned, ”If anyone ever tried fuckin' you like this. I'd kill 'em.“

You giggled and then wrapped your arms around him. You laid back onto the table with him close to you. Your bodies moved together, two pieces meant to fit together. You replied, slightly out of breath, “Like I'd ever fuck another man after you. It would be a vow of celibacy if you left.”

He chuckled, “I'm not goin' anywhere. You're stuck with me, love. Until the earth explodes. You're my girl till the end.”

You moaned, “Please, Simon.” You clung onto him as he thrusted his hips against you. His cock hitting all the sweetest parts of you. The space between you felt hot from the friction of your movements. Your heart hammered in your chest.

  “Yeah, that's it. That's my girl. Beg.” He panted.

  “Please, Simon. Give it to me. I want you to fuck me until I can feel you for days after.” You panted, you felt sweat begin to stick to your back.

You squeezed your thighs around his hips and leaned your head back. You gazed at the far wall of the kitchen. For a moment you realized that you hadn't closed the blinds on the kitchen window.

For a moment you wanted to close it. But there was no way Simon was going to let you get out of his grasp before he finished you both off. You were pinned under him until you were screaming.

Your hands went to his shoulders, you dug your nails into his back as he loved.The pleasure made you see stars when he his against your cervix.

Part of you was surprised that he could even fit inside of you.

You held onto him tightly and rocked against the table. Having a house with him was much better than when he was roommates with John. You swore there were some times when the Scotsman wanted to kill Simon for being so loud at such strange hours.

Now the two of you could be as loud as you needed to be. Your back arched when he picked up the pace and  you tighten your legs around him. He leaned over you, hands spread on the table above your head as he drilled his cock into you.

  “Ya like that, love?” He asked, his lips so close to your ear. He sighed happily as he felt your cunt clench around his cock.

You nodded, “Yeah, fuck. Yeah.“ You dug your nails into his back and he hissed from the feeling.

  “Fuck, you're perfect.“ He chuckled as he dipped his head down to your neck once more. What little restraint he had was gone and he started to kiss at the soft flesh. But soon they turned into his blunt teeth digging into the skin on your neck. Which left behind a wake of purple bruises.

Of course he had to mark you up before the match. He held onto the table for support but moved one hand to your left breast and started to knead at it. His rough hands on sensitive flesh almost made you kick out your legs.

  ”Fuck!“ You whimpered.

He groaned, “That's it, love. Get tighter around me, fuckin' milk me dry.” He panted against your hot skin and felt hot all over. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back as he continuously thrusted into you.

  “Please, ah, Simon!” You gasped.

He sealed his lips against yours once more and continued to massage your breast. It was a combination of pleasure and pain, a world you were far too familiar with.

  “My girl.” He whispered against your heated skin. He could feel your pulse as he ruined your neck. Good luck covering the damage he made.

You retaliated by leaving nail marks on his muscular shoulders. He really was perfect, the kind of man who made your heart race. He was a beast in the ring, but with you he was something completely different.

His devotion was undying, his love was unwavering. You were his as he was yours. Intertwined till the end of days.

And you were content with that.

  “Please.” You gasped. The pleasure was becoming unbearable. It wasn't long before you were a moaning mess on the table, barely making coherent words.

And Simon thought that was the most arousing thing he had ever seen. It only fueled him to keep going. Soon you were practically a ragdoll under his touch. A toy to fuck and bring to climax.

You panted rapidly and let out a sharp noise as you held onto him tightly and climaxed. It felt like a shock to your system as you finished. It shot wired your brain and then you went laxed against the table with your hands spread out on the table. Your bare chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to use your tongue to form words.

Simon smiled to himself as he pulled away. He grabbed your legs around his waist and pulled them so your ankles were at his shoulder and with the new position, he took you blissed out to achieve his own orgasm.

He bullied your pussy for a lack of a better word. He felt your tightness around his hardened cock as kept thrusting. He maintained eye contact. He even noticed how your tongue was partially sticking out as you gasped for air.

  “Droolin' little girl.” He chuckled, 'Fuck your brains out.“ He admired his work as he felt himself experiencing bliss. His thrusts were quick and short with machine precision.

He wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand as he continued. He grunted as his cock touched the deepest parts of you. It felt like he was in your stomach.

  ”Fuck, love. He groaned as he gave one last hard thrust and finished inside of you. He relaxed a little and let out a small noise as he felt a headrush, “FUck.” He panted.

He pulled out and had to sit down on the nearby chair to pull himself together. It wasn't that his body was exhausted, it was the sheer force of pleasure tickling a part of his brain that made him partially dizzy.

He patted your leg that was dangling over the kitchen table and nodded. He exhaled deeply, “Oh yeah, good girl.“

You slowly propped yourself on your elbows and looked at him. Your chest was still rapidly rising and falling, “I don't think I could ever get bored of this.”

He chuckled and leaned over to kiss your thigh, “Good to know. I'd hate for my girl to get tired. I only wanna see her worn out after I fucked her.” He got up, “C'mere, love. Let's get some dinner in ya.”

  “As if I'm not full already.“ You remarked, coming back to your senses. You were able to sit up properly as Simon dressed you so you didn't have to eat dinner with cum leaking out of you.

He rubbed your head before he helped your back in your bra, “Sadly, my swimmers won't keep ya full during the match.“ Then kissed your cheek.

You chuckled, ”God, don't call them that.“ Once partially dressed you managed to be able to get onto your feet. You gave him one last look, ”Cut me a slice of the leftovers, I'm going to change into something more comfortable.“

As you started to wobble your way upstairs, in a moment of cheekiness, Simon reached over and slapped your ass. You turned your head to look at him.

You saw that look in his eye, the look he got when he was a man possessed. You reached over and slapped his ass in return before you headed to your bedroom. Two could play at that game.

-

Simon may have been the precious boyfriend who came home to you every night. But when you headed to the location of the match, you saw something change in him as you got through the door.

The Ghost was out to play.

And in tonight's match, he was going to defend his title. No one was taking his title of the Champion of the Modern Warfare Season. You took his hand for a moment after you got through the front door.

He looked down at you, and you looked up at him in return. The bottom half of his face was covered as you couldn't make out a lot of his expression. But you've gotten pretty good at reading his eyes.

He wanted to win. Even if the match was decided, his goal was to put on this most convincing show he could.

You smiled, and you brought his hand to your lips. You held his hand facing up and kissed the inside of his wrist. Your kiss lingered, then you closed his palm and held it close to your chest.

  ”If that fucking Austrian comes near you again, I'm going to beat him with a chain.“ You promised.

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss you. You felt the material of his mask against the top of your head, ”No need, love. Just Soap and I tonight.“

You pulled away, ”Good. Go put on a good show.” Then winked at him before you turned away to go find your seat up at the front.

He watched you walk away, his eyes were on your backside. He rolled his shoulders then turned away to the changerooms to get ready for the match.

Ghost was a fighter, he wasn't the flashiest performer, but he made for a good 'heel'. The masked wrestler knew how to throw his body and as a result held the title of champion.

  “How's the lass?” John asked as he took off his jacket.

  “She's well. Behavin'.” Simon remarked.

John laughed, “Oh silly Ghost, you don't have her on a leash. She has YOU on a leash.” He went over and slapped his friend's back, mindful of the bruises, “Surprised she didn't tear ya limb from limb when she saw this mess.”

Simon took off his face mask and looked over at the other man, “There's a reason why I wasn't at the gym for two days.”

John nodded, “Whipped man.” He laughed before he went to change.

Simon opened his locker, on the inside part of the door were a few photos of you. He smiled to himself as he threw his clothes into the locker.

-

The match was the highlight of the evening. Simon spent most of the evening lingering around backstage. He shared a shot of tequila to calm his nerves with John, he forgot how much he hated the stuff.

The announcer called out his name, he got up from the folding chair and grabbed his championship belt and headed to the ring.

Per usual, the crowd booed him as they did for most heels. He smiled under his mask and held the belt over his head. He caught you staring at him, practically the only person cheering him on.

John was soon called on stage as well. And the two looked like they were going to exchange a friendly shake of hands, before Simon went in for the punch.

Let the match begin.

Simon used to think that wrestling was real, when he'd watch pay-per-view matches when he was in ROTC as a young man. But now he thought anyone who thought wrestling was a hundred percent real were idiots.

He was an actor, an actor who got hit over the head with a folding chair by his good friend. He hit the mat but got up before John could jump off the ropes.

The two men flipped between who was on the floor of the ring and who wasn't. At one point John had him in a headlock, but an elbow to the face allowed Simon to get out from under him.

At one point John stomped on the bruise from the chain and Simon cursed to himself. But the crowd was going wild for the display of violence. He did get his revenge by throwing John to the mat and throwing an elbow drop onto him.

He could hear John swear and wheeze from the pain.

  “Ya think you're that good, Ghost.” John asked, his accent grew heavier the more they brawled.

Simon nodded his head. He didn't speak much when he was in the ring. It was all part of the act. Both men threw themselves at one another and scrambled for dominance.

But soon Simon slammed John's head against the mat and held him down there. He said, “Give it up, Soap. You'll never win this.” He made his voice purposely deeper.

That was the word that their little performance was done. And in John's opinion, he was beat.

The referee counted down and at ten, John goes laxed on the mat. The bell rang and the match was over.

Simon got up from being on top of John and grabbed the belt from the referee. He held it over his head and the crowd booed.

To be a heel meant having thicker skin. The crowd would never cheer for him, no matter how many times he defended the title.

But he licked the blood from the corner of his lip under his mask and made eye contact with you. You smiled at him as you clapped for him.

You were just thankful that he wasn't beaten with a chain AGAIN. You blew him a kiss and laughed, he may be the ghost of the ring but he was you Simon.

Simon headed to the changeroom. He winced as he got a good look at the boot print on his back. Fuckin' Scotsman.

He knew you were going to have to get some ice packs ready when you both got home. He took off the mask and placed it on the  counter in front of the mirror.

He noticed a cut on his cheek,the blood had mostly dried but there was a big bruise forming around it. He sighed, you weren't going to like that.

  “Oh God.” He groaned as he stood under the spray of the shower. He braced both hands against the tile as he stretched out his body. He rolled his shoulders under the hot spray of the water.

  “How ya holdin' up?” He heard John ask.

He looked over and pushed wet hair out of his eyes, “Been better. Ya didn't have to kick my bruise.“

John chuckled, ”It was in the routine before you got whipped.“ He pulled away from the tiled wall, ”I think yer girl wants to see ya. She wants to make sure her big bad Ghost is okay.“  His chuckle turned into a laugh.

Simon narrowed his eyes, “Still, you could've moved it a little.“ He turned off the tap and went over to where his towel was.

John shrugged, “Got a rise outta the crowd.”

  “Fuckin' Scotsman.” Simon said as he went to grab his clothes.

John laughed, “I'll go get yer girl.” Then headed back towards the exit of the changeroom.

Simon took his time drying off. He was always achy after a match. He got lost in his thoughts as he dried his face and hair. It wasn't until he felt a familiar touch that he came back to reality.

 “Hey, Ghost.” You said.

He pulled the towel away from his face and looked down at you. The corners of his mouth curled at the sight of you. He dropped the towel and turned to you.

You gazed up at him, without thinking you reached out and touched the cut on his face, “Simon.”

  “I know.” He said, ”He knows how to throw a punch.“ He leaned down to kiss you gently on the forehead. He watched you wrap your arms around him and he placed a hand on your upper back.

  ”The match was good, you did a great job keeping your title. You really are the best.“ You chuckled, ”I hate seeing you get hit in the face though, but... I'll live.“

He kissed you again,”Thought about ya the entire time I was in the ring. Knowing my number one fan was watching.“ He chuckled.

You leaned up to kiss him on the lips. The kiss was hot, your smaller hands grabbed onto his strong biceps. You really were so much smaller than him. As the kiss deepened, he held your chin and tilted your head back.

  ”I hate to admit it.“ You said as you pulled away, ”I find it hot when you punch the lights out of someone.“

He chuckled, “I knew that a long time ago.”He stepped back and sat on the bench. He spread his legs, “We have about ten minutes.” He knew exactly what you were thinking of.

You chuckled, ”Perv.”

He leaned up against the metal of the lockers, the cool surface against his bruises made his lip twitch, “Only for you, love.”

  “Aren't you a sweet talker.”  You went over to him. You sat down on the bench beside him and got your shorts off, and then your panties, “So enough chit chat and lets get going.”  

Simon's cock twitched. He was definitely a shower. You touched it carefully and he quickly grew hard. You watched his face grow hot as you swung one leg over his lap and straddled him.

You looked in his eyes as you rubbed your pussy up against the tip of his cock, “Think you'll last nine minutes?”

He replied, “You always make me cum fast, maybe I'll get two loads in ya.” Then hissed through his teeth as you sank yourself onto his cock.

  “God.”

  “It's Simon, love.” He chuckled as he rested his head against the locker behind him. His hand gravitated to your hips and started to roll his hips in time with your thrusts.

It was risky to do in the changeroom, but Simon was certain every performer brought their catch of the week in here after a match. The only difference was that you had been Simon' girl for some time now.

Your bodies moved together. Simon's hands dug into the meat of your hips and he leaned into you to kiss you deeply. The thrill of sex after the thrill of a match only made him more erect. He was obsessed with you, he thought you were God's gift to him.

He pulled away slightly and gazed at you, “You're mine. Got it? I don't give a shit who says otherwise. If any guy tries to get between us, I'll fuckin' kill 'em.” He panted.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and gazed into his dark eyes, “That's assuming any man would come near me.” You rolled your hips more, “No man shines a light to you.” You yanked on his hair a little, “You are the most impressive man I've ever seen. I only want you, Si.“

He groaned, ”I love you.“

You pulled his face close to yours, ”Not as much as I love you.“

He dug his blunt nails deeper into your hips, ”You're mine, love. And I'll fuck ya every day to remind you.“ He kissed up at your neck, over the bruises he had left earlier.

You had sex earlier that evening and here you were fucking one another once again. Love ran hot between you two.

  ”Shit.“ ”Fuck.“ ”Simon, PLEASE.“ Were shared between you two as you thrusted your bodies together like a pair of horny rabbits.

  ”Mine.“ He groaned.

You held onto his shoulders and bounced on his cock the more you put your full force behind your movements. You felt sweaty all over, your heart was pounding and you felt the shivers of pleasure  through your body.

  ”Fuckin' obsessed with you. Want you until the day I die. You're my girl. My everything.“ He panted. He gritted his teeth and soon held onto the edge of the bench to let you ride him.

  ”Ah, shit.” You moaned, “You feel so good.” You panted, “Who allowed you to have such a big fuckin' cock.” You pushed the hair out of your face as you continued to move your hips against him.

 “Made just for you.”

  “Oh shush.” You giggled as you continued to rub up against him. You felt your heart thump in your chest. You clung onto him as you moved your hips against him. It was so arousing for you to be so close to him.

He pressed his forehead up against you and held onto you tightly once more as he thrusted up into you. He felt heat in his body as you fucked against one another.

  “You're so fuckin' hot.” He said.

  “Not as hot as you. Punching Johnny in the face and throwing him down to the ground. It is almost funny. But there's something hot about that.“

He chuckled, ”Yeah, you like when men beat each other up?”

You kissed him once more, then when you pulled away you answered him, “Yes.” As you thrust your hips, you practically bounced on his cock.

Pleasure raced through both of you as the two of you fucked in the middle of the changeroom. He found your movements so erotic, his eyes for a moment were on your breasts.

How they looked under the over-sized shirt you wore. His name was printed on it. He felt proud of himself, of his girl wearing his shirt. That you'd always be his number one.

Soon your lips were against his again. You held onto his strong shoulders tightly as you rolled your hips. You panted into the kiss and you could hear his chuckle against you.

  “Please.” You moaned.

He grabbed onto your ass, feeling the soft flesh. You moaned into his mouth from the pressure that he was putting on your ass as his cock slid in and out of your pussy.

You pulled away and held onto his shoulders. You put all of your energy into it. Your mouth hung open as you gasped for air. You felt the electricity of pleasure course through your body.

  “Aw, fuck.” He panted. He landed a hard smack on your left cheek. He then groaned against you as he thrust his hips up into you to get further into your pussy.

You felt the urge to orgasm come closer. You held onto your lover's hair and continued to move against him. You felt your heart hammering in your chest. It wasn't long before you felt the urge to climax. You kept up the pace you were working with and your legs started to feel like jelly.

You felt love for Simon, you took in the scent of him. The Old Spice he was content with. You leaned in and kissed the top of his head. You inhaled and moaned as you continued to rut against him.

It didn't take long before the two of you finished. You clasped a hand over your mouth as you rode out your orgasm while Simon had to bite his fist.

He painted your insides white and you went limp against him for a moment, He then stroked your back and slowed down till he stopped. He wrapped those strong arms around you and kissed the side of your head.

“That's my girl.” He said with his voice steeped in devotion. He kissed you once before he slowly got you off his cock. He looked at you as you put your shorts back on.

Your eyes met, you reached out and touched the scar on his face. He could see the love in your eyes. He may have lived many different lives before you. But this was the one that he loved the most.

You were his home.

xoxo, bunny