#especially Taffy

[sinestrosmind]

I finally got Hope a harness!!! I can't wait to take her on walks now that I've got it, I feel a lot more confident with it than a collar and she seems to really like it!

I got the OneTigris Fire Watcher 2.0 in navy for her, and I got a really nice leash with a second handle near where it clips to her harness. There's some other things I wanna get for her so we can start Canicross training bc I know she'd love Canicross, she loves to run and I wanna run with her. I wanna get her checked by her vet before we begin training tho, make sure she's sound enough for Canicross, but goddddd I'm so fuckin excited!!!!

Maybe after Canicross training we could do dry land mushing??? maybe I can get a skateboard or something and we can go flying around the town. I wanna get her shoes, tho, because right now the temperature dictates if we go for walks or not that day. I also have to get her a water bottle for hotter days with or without shoes tbh. Today it's too hot and humid, so I don't want to take her for a walk, but when it's cooled down again I'm so walking with her- maybe we'll go to petsmart and people watch for exposure training????

just. godddd I'm so happy and so fucking excited I love Hope so much

[zoppzoop]

screaming about body pain

[sysig]

Yes, the fluff is far preferable (Patreon)

[magentagalaxies]

my mom is currently rereading the book "landline" by rainbow rowell and she just had to knock on my door to show me this dialogue bc kids in the hall mention

coincidentally "you're in drag as a man in drag as a woman (it's very confusing)" is honestly the most accurate description i can give of my approach to my female characters. like people may think i'm playing women bc i am women, but no i'm nonbinary i play women in the kids-in-the-hall way. the average viewer just can't comprehend the level of crossdressing i have going on

[poems-of-a-lover]

i wanna go to a candy store with a pretty boy and get all of our favorite candies so we can go home and watch movies with all our sweets together

[musubiki]

Now that you mention it, I realized we get to see Lime liking all flustered in post time skip, clearly and fatally infatuated with Mochi, but we never think of Coco and Taffy's relationship, because coco is clearly different from mochi.

But at the same time I imagine taffy being even worse than lime with his reactions, mostly because he's less used to them.

So like, when do we see taffy lose it and melt on the floor? What about coco?

AH SO TRUE!!!!1 the nature of taffy and cocos relationship is a lot different than that of mochi and lime!!!! m&l is very heavily the mutual pining, dying inside from how much you love them but too scared/proud/anxious/busy to confess to them

TAFFY AND COCO ON THE OTHER HAND...........taffy is less used to his emotions, but since he was so isolated and fucked up being raised (molded) by amanita, he also lacks any restraint in telling coco how he feels when hes comfortable enough around her. lime is like "shit shit no cant ruin my friendship with mochi" vs taffy who is like "what? thats how i feel, so what? whats the big deal?" and doesnt realize how heavy it is. taffy would say the softest, most heart-warming loving beautiful affectionate words to coco (in front of everyone) and stand there like it was nothing. meanwhile everyone is like "BRUH?!?!?"

and coco is not a super stranger to romance. she dated people in high school before so shes a little more comfortable with love as a concept, and shes extremely gentle with taffy because she knows what hes like and what hes been through.

ALSO NOTEWORTHY: when taffy first tells her how he feels shes 100% not ready for it. i dont even know if she felt that way about him remotely when he first tells her, but again shes very kind to him about it and tells him exactly something along the lines of "youre a good person and im glad you came around and i like being around you and i think we could be something in the future im just not ready right now." but taffy knows already he wont love anyone but her so says something "thats fine, ill wait." and continues to love her until she IS ready.

(regardless hes so sweet and gentle and caring to her she does fall in love with him for real and they start going out during the timeskip)

(the only time we see taffy genuinely get flustered is when coco flirts with him and makes very obvious s*xu*l teasing hints and he blanks out LMFAO!!!!!)

[juanabaloo]

Thank you for this question!

I assume that for a good throuple they are not a V, meaning everyone is involved. So it can't be that Buffy has two boos (one being Faith), but the boos don't really interact with each other.

I would assume of course that Buffy and Faith are beyond rock solid, so they've dealt with all their shit, esp the heinous S4 shit that Faith pulls. (And also what she tries to pull with Xander before Angel knocks her out in S3.) Or it's some sort of AU where it never happened. And I'd also assume you limit it to canon BTVS/ATS characters.

I think this question deserves a lot of careful thought and meaningful analysis. But ...

I'm going to answer Tara on gut instinct.

Tara and Buffy already had a platonic poly vibe when they were raising Dawn (albeit with Willow also). I don't think Buffy can ever view Willow (or Xander) in a non-platonic way. (I don't think Willow can see Buffy like that either.) Also I can see Tara being poly.

For Faith the 3rd person would have to be different personality-wise than Buffy for it to work for her. Tara definitely feels different enough from Buffy. I think she would bring a nice energy to their dynamic.

What about the obvious men? I think the solid sibling vibe Faith and Angel have precludes anything non-platonic between them. Like if Buffy asked would they probably try a threesome? Yes, but it would be awkward AF if they had to DO anything to each other.

And with Spike (again assuming it's a never-happened AU or they've processed all the S6 and other shit)... I think Spike is a lot like Buffy. So much so that maybe he doesn't feel different enough for Faith? I'm kinda shaky about the energy he would be bringing to their dynamic. I also think that Spike would not be happy in a throuple, that he wants to be the only person with his boo. (This argument against Spike feels less solid than the one I have against Angel.)

(Also I think Faith would have to do ALOT of work before she was OK with being in a throuple. Her instincts are not to share Buffy, IMO.)

So Tara first, with Spike a very very very distant second.

If the question was who do Faith/Buffy choose for a threesome (one shot or multiple times), that feels like... a good poll question? Or a bracket even?? Hmm...

@audelia-bly

[kumokumotenshi]

Wouldn't be funny if Linaria was Aes' babysitter

She was given to him as a subordinate but all she did was to care of him as if he was her child

I mean, considering how young Aes is, he probably would have someone to watch over him, sure, i see him as being very independent and surprisingly he can be on his own, but you know, he still has inocence, he is unaware of things, if he doesn't have guidance he can get himself into very dangerous situations

So i believe Linaria would do what's needed for Aes' well-being... until Hidou fucked everything up by kidnapping her, fucking bitch i still love him thought

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 246

Adjective: Aquatic

Noun: Throat

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Aquatic: relating to water; (of a plant or animal) growing or living in or near water

Throat: the passage which leads from the back of the mouth of a person or animal; the front part of a person's or animal's neck, behind which the esophagus, trachea, and blood vessels serving the head are situated; (literary) a voice of a person or a songbird; a thing compared to a throat, especially a narrow passage, entrance, or exit; (sailing) the forward upper corner of a quadrilateral fore-and-aft sail

[michaelinprogress]

I’ve seen a few people talk about the importance of the axe, but I wanted to put my take on it out there too.

Lisa watched her mom get axe murdered, and then her life was uprooted. She had nobody there for her (except taffy but she was misguided). And this person comes along, one who knows her better than anyone, and uses an axe to kill someone right in front of her.

Only this time, the axe is used to protect her. Something that destroyed her entire life is now being wielded by the one person she’s beginning to trust and feel seen and heard by.

And I don’t think it’s wrong for her to be thrilled and morbidly infatuated by this!!! Reclaiming and healing from trauma isn’t always pretty like everyone wants it to be, especially for young women and girls.

The axe becomes something to protect her and get revenge on those who hurt her. People who were supposed to be good to her, that she THOUGHT were good to her, but betrayed her.

The axe is something that she now wields.

She gets to reclaim it. She gets to trust someone again. She gets to feel loved, seen, and heard.

This movie is about reclaiming trauma as much as it is about a zombie love story!!!

[sickgraymeat]

🐟

[heartfullofleeches]

Dentist Darling who despises Sucrose (Taffy Candy Yan) and their candy store- More sweetness is the last thing anyone in their town needs. Especially with all this bizarre cases of rapid tooth decay sprouting up. What can Sucrose say? Their treats are irresistible! Darling would know if they just tried a bite. Too bad they've been scared off candy since they were a child. Cavities are a not something to be taken lightly, but Darling may lean a bit too far on the safe side. Perhaps it's for the best. After all, they're still around and kicking while others who've eaten Sucrose's candy face side effects ranging from tooth aches to terrible nightmares and in some cases death. Sucrose would make sure Darling doesn't meet the same end.

All they have to do is take one little bite of him and Sucrose will take care of the rest.

-

Sucrose: Ohhhh, Gumdrop! I made a gift basket for you! Filled to the brim with all the best sellers from my shop! Try a piece, won't you?

Dentist Darling: You will not tempt me with such filth, trash.

Sucrose: If you want a real sweet temptation I can always drop my pants and let you have a taste of my taffy stick.

Dentist Darling: What was that?

Sucrose: Nothing! ^⁠_⁠^

[emo-batboy]

Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

[gallusrostromegalus]

AEIWAM Question: What do the various Espada Think of Tousen? Follow-up question, will they, the bunch of dumbasses that they are (because Aizen made them for loyalty, not thinking), declare him their unquestioned leader once Aizen, Gin and Urloquia fork off to see the cosmic taffy pull (also presuming that Barrigan winds up face down in a ditch per canon)?

Bless you for asking this, I needed something to chew on. I'm going to answer these one at a time because the post would be insanely long, and how the thought of him Before the Battle of Karakura Probably:

---

Aaroniero and Arruruerie are SURE they've met before, and that they owes the man a debt of gratitude.

It's possible, they suppose. They have consumed and absorbed the memories of so many hollows that maybe they remember the face from a hollow he killed.

At least, that's what they hope is going on.

But they have Nightmares. Not of being pursued by Shinigami but of being the Shinigami in hot pursuit. Dreams of walking through a city, surrounded by humans that adore them. Names and Faces- Rukia and her dipshit older brother, Jushiro with the nice couch they sometimes pass out on after long nights- if Jushiro's husband wasn't already there. ...Memories, of meeting each other, and falling in love. How it felt as natural to look up to her as it was to gaze at the moon. How waking up to him felt as natural as the dawn. Memories of being married by Captain Ukitake, after Tousen had done them the inexplicable favor of organizing the whole party and acquiring wedding rings. He loves organizing things for people. Ukitake had smiled. Especially weddings. I just hope it's not guilt from the one he didn't get to. His husband had frowned.

That's impossible, of course. They know who they are, how they arose from the vile muck in the shadowy pits of Hueco Mundo. They never stood in the sun one late afternoon, to marry, not with how it burns.

...and yet.

There's no harm in being polite, right? They don't mind locking Glottineria in it's scabbard with an audible click when he comes into the room, to affirm lack of hostilities. Or giving him the cup of tea Aizen gives everyone at his insufferable meetings afterwards- it's not like they can drink it! ...And if sometimes, when they've been working late in the lab studying the effects and causes of Hollowfication, when Tousen gets tired and starts to call them "Kaien" and "Miyako"-

-Well, what's the harm in answering in the voices he expects to hear?

[the-californicationist]

he comes closer and closer...

Price/Reader - TW: bondage, explicit consent, anal fingering, begging, male whimpering, edgeplay, blowjobs

“I want you to remember, especially in an hour or so, that you asked for this,” you kissed his bearded cheek softly, smelling his cologne, “Begged for it, even.”

“Aye. I did,” he replied, his accent thick and heady.

Captain Price was fully naked and strapped down to his office desk, tied with a length of paracord. His body was stretched out like a rubber band, his skin shining from sweat and covered in dark hair. You could hear his labored breathing and feel his eyes on you, watching you as you walked around the desk, rubbing his arms and legs with your hands, playing with his nipples, fondling him everywhere except where he wanted you to. 

“And yet, you say I’m being unfair?” You pouted playfully, settling yourself between his knees, purposely avoiding his twitching cock.

“Edging involves at least a little…attention. Touch me, love. Please.”

“Begging again? How desperate you are tonight,” you smiled, lowering your mouth just above where his pink head could reach. Watching his hips and cock strain towards you was enchanting. 

“Baby, please, it aches. You can’t…please, don’t just leave me like this.”

“Maybe just one little taste, hmm? Just to see if you’ll be a good boy.”

“I will,” he strained harder, fighting the ropes, “I will, I promise. Please-please-please…”

“I don’t know, Captain. Do you remember the rules?”

“Yes, love, I remember. Please, just -”

“Tell me.”

He sighed, and you watched his abs flex on the exhale, his belly convulsing with his ragged breaths,

“I have to warn you when I come, and…”

“And?” You drug out the word like a sticky strand of taffy, pulling it to the point of breaking. 

“...and if I don’t, I can’t have your cunt.”

“No, you can’t. So, be good, John. Show me you want this pussy.”

He growled, 

“Fuck, I want it right bloody now. Please, baby, I -”

“Shh. Enough. You need to learn patience, my darling. We’re just getting started.”

You put a dollop of lube in your hand and rubbed it all over his shaft. He was so swollen, and the cockring you put around him had kept him that way for a while. It was wrapped around the base of his shaft and under his balls, stretching the skin and keeping it rigid. He was grunting as you worked him, his whole body reacting to your touch. The desk creaked as he strained against it. You were a little concerned about its integrity. If he broke the straps, or the desk, there were no rules left to bind him. 

“Mmm, unhgh…yeah, just like that. Fuuuuuck…” Price groaned loudly. 

You stopped, pulling away from him with a wet pop. 

“Ah! No, no, no…” He complained. 

You ran your fingers up and down his torso, threatening to touch his cock again. Every time you got close, you could hear the wood of the desk cry out, stretching from his strength. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” You asked him, licking his nipple, biting his skin. 

“Oh, fuck, yes it does. Please, come back.”

You returned to his cock, but instead of quick solid strokes, you pulled him slowly, painfully slowly, and at an odd angle, so none of his regular sensations were available for him to hold onto. Each time you pulled up and over his cockhead, he would grunt for you, like an angry bull. 

Changing your grip, you massaged his balls and he sighed. Then, you rubbed his inner thighs and the skin behind his sack and between his legs, pressing on his internal root, jerking it as if it were his cock at the surface. It made his dick flag up and down as you did so, and he did everything he could to move you either forwards or back, being cruelly teased by your positioning. 

You stopped again. You heard him groan deep and low. His cock was rosy pink, flushed with blood and thicker than you’d ever seen it. You put some lube on your finger and dipped between his legs, finding his asshole, warm and covered in thick hair. He jolted, as much as the ropes would allow.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you remember Warsaw?”

His eyes were wild, but then they went ice cold, the realization washing over him. You chuckled, continuing, rimming your finger around his hole as you spoke, 

“You found me during our field training, and you held me down, plunging those fingers into my pussy and my ass, not allowing me to come for a whole evening, telling me that only bad soldiers got caught, and since I was bad, I didn’t deserve an orgasm. Have you been bad, John?”

You slipped a finger past his outer muscles, feeling the smooth skin inside of his asshole, massaging it in slow, aching circles. He held his breath, but he was shaking his head back and forth, protesting against your appraisal of his sins. You checked in with him, pausing your movements.

“Green or yellow?”

It took a few moments, but he growled out a very clear, 

“Green, love. Green.”

You pushed your finger in until you found the spot you were looking for. You began to rub little firm circles inside of him while jerking his cock with your free hand. There was so much to love about the feedback you were getting from him. His face was wide with intense pleasure, and his pupils were fully blown. You thrust your hand around him faster, focusing on his head. As soon as you saw his eyes clench shut, you removed yourself from him entirely. 

“No! Fuckin’ hell,” he moaned, frustrated and desperate for you to let him finish. 

“Mmm, about to break a rule, Captain? You never were good at following orders.”

You sucked his cock into your mouth, softly, gently, and applied almost no suction. He bucked against the table, slamming his hips and back into the wood. You could hear the ropes tightening against their bites. He was groaning and shaking from your warm, wet mouth. You lay your tongue at the base of his head and began to lap at his skin in long, slow licks. It was too slow and soft for him to feel any release, but it was enough to drive him past the point of normalcy. 

“Fuck! Fuck, more. More, love. I need more, please. Please. Please! Fuuuuuuck.”

You put your finger at the entrance of his asshole, but you didn’t enter him again. Still, he throbbed in your mouth, just the idea of you touching him inside gave him the same sensation. You pulled him out of you and leisurely massaged his dick again, keeping him right on the edge of his pleasure. Price was literally trembling with every moment of your touch, loudly grunting, unashamed of his behavior. 

Then, you decided to finger him again, taking it away the moment his breathing changed. You put him back in your mouth. Then, you took him out. At one point, you left him altogether, making a cup of tea and drinking it while you sat in his office chair, watching him watch you. Smiling. He thrashed against the ropes. 

He really was terrifying, objectively. Price could kill you in less than a second if he wanted to. He was enormous, muscular, and sharp as a knife. There was no where you could run, and there was no chance of you fighting him off. As you watched him writhe and pull at his bindings, you studied his form. His strong legs and huge ass provided immense leverage against the desktop, bowing the edges of its planks downward - ever so slightly - as he thrust against it. The captain’s wide chest bulged with his mountainous shoulders, causing the rope to whine as it tightened on its knot, the fibers stretching past their limits. Every time he threw his hips down in blissful agony, the whole room shuddered. He was like some sort of beast you’d caught in a trap. A tiger by the tail. 

Finally, you decided to end his suffering, but he didn’t know that. As you approached the desk again, he began to beg you,

“Please, love. Please. I’ll be good. I promise. Please, let me come. I’ll be good. Baby, please…”

There it was. That’s what you wanted. An obedient Price was a rare sight, and seeing him unfold right before your very eyes, like a rose in bloom, relaxing into your will - it was mesmerizing. You wanted to rub your nose in those pliant petals, bend them back away from his honeyed center. You were hooked. 

“Mmm. That's it, baby. Surely, such a good boy deserves a reward, hm?”

“Oh, fuck,” his tone was dark now that he knew what was coming. 

You put your mouth on him and grabbed his balls gently in your hand, sucking him with a strong rhythm, massaging his heavy sack with each thrust of your head. Price wasn’t that long, but his girth was a struggle. You pushed past it, giving the man what he’d been waiting for, choking yourself, pulling off his cockring and letting the blood flow back into his core as you swallowed his head in the back of your throat. 

"I'm gonna come. Oh, my God. I'm gonna fuckin' come, baby. Yes-yes-yes...ahhh!"

The wait was so worth it. With each bob of your head, he seized and panicked. It was as if every suckle was giving him a separate orgasm, and he came like a firehose. It squirted down your throat, hot and salty, and he was screaming for you. You were certain the whole base could hear him, even though they were all the way in the barracks. His legs locked out straight, pulling the ropes tight, and his back arched off of the desk in perfect agony. 

You drained his cock by pulling out the last few drops from his shaft, licking them up like dripping ice cream from a cone. Then, you untied his legs and hands. He lay there, panting, his face twisted in complexity, feeling aftershocks and riding them out, sated and drunkenly happy. 

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, girl, you better start runnin'. As soon as I get my legs, you are in for it.”

You bolted for the door, looking back at him over your shoulder, grinning. He had already rolled off of the desk and was trying to throw on his shorts, stumbling, slowly catching his bearings, quickly getting ready to hunt you down.

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

Read Part 2 here.

[footiecent]

not your fault

(emily fox x reader)

in which you're obsessed with your girlfriend (especially her jawline)

warnings: slightly suggestive? almost all fluff

word count: 1.1k

It's not your fault. Really, it's not.

“Baby, don’t you have to get up soon?”

You hum in reply, half asleep. 

You’re so comfortable. Your head is tucked protectively into the crook of your girlfriend’s left shoulder and neck while you lie almost entirely on top of her, the covers burying the both of you into a warm, delightful cocoon. Emily’s left hand is slowly moving up and down your back, and everything is just perfect.

“You can’t be late for work again.”

You open your eyes at that, but at the first moment you start to untangle your arms from her waist and feel her body heat dissipate, you realize that maybe you can stay for just another minute.

So, you decide to flop back down. Though, you’ve at least managed to roll your upper body partially off of her, giving you a perfect view of her side profile as she closes her eyes, not having to get up for practice for another half-hour. 

You can’t help but to reach out your hand and run your thumb along her sharp jawline—mind assaulted by memories of the night before when you see the marks littered below it.

Damn. She’s gonna kill me, you think. She’s told you so many times that covering hickies up before practices is a bitch, and looking at these marks—ones that might be a few too many shades past concealable—you realize you’re fucked. 

You start to analyze the best plan of action, landing on one that has you placing a gentle kiss onto her jaw before springing up from bed and hurriedly walking to the bathroom to wash up. All you have to do is leave before she gets up. Easy work. Easy peasy…

You’re so close—you’re at the door, knelt down with one shoe on when you hear her.

“Y/N! Come on!” she yells. 

Yikes.

You manage to put your other shoe on right as she appears in your vision, very clearly ticked off. 

“It’s not my fault?” you try, walking towards your very beautiful, and very pissed girlfriend.

“Oh, so it’s my fault I have to cover these up?” she says, pushing your shoulder when you stand in front of her.

Looking at her face, you decide that telling her you literally just look so incredible at every moment it’s not my fault you’re mine and I can’t help it would not exactly help your case. So, you decide to resume your quick exit, quickly kissing her cheek and saying, “Have a good practice babe, I love you!” as you grab your keys and leave your shared flat. 

You do make a mental note to buy Emily’s favorite chocolates after work. 

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

Like really, it's her fault. Who gave her the right to look that good after a game?

You’re reminded that you’re always completely in the right when you’re sitting at the Emirates two days later, watching your girlfriend wrap up a defensive masterclass against Chelsea. For the first time in a while, London is sunny, and the beautiful weather only adds onto the incredible mood in the stadium as the full-time whistle blows and cheers thunder throughout every corner.

You can’t help but stare at her while she celebrates with the rest of the team. Lotte likes to joke that the two of you could melt taffy with just one of your lovesick glances, but you can’t help it. It's her fault for looking so good after a game—sweaty, smiley, and positively glowing after helping her team to a win. 

She spends time walking around the stadium, signing autographs and taking pictures, while you chat absentmindedly with Alessia, who came to greet you before starting her rounds of the stadium. But when Emily finally makes her way towards you—lifting her shirt up to try and wipe some sweat off her face—you start thinking about your plans for after. Alessia catches your change in demeanor, rolling her eyes and walking away while muttering something under her breath. 

“Did you enjoy the game?” your girlfriend asks, stepping in front of you, grinning from ear to ear. You both look disgustingly in love as the sun shines down and highlights her vibrant smile. 

“Of course I did. How could I not, superstar?” 

Being in the stands means you hover tall over Emily, enabling you to comfortably wrap your arms around her neck as she looks up at you. You ignore the few stares that direct their way towards you two as you relentlessly press kisses onto her jawline and cheek. She’s laughing as she playfully tries to shove you away, but you can’t help but hold her a little tighter and whisper just how excited you are to get home. 

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So, she should stop getting annoyed. She should know that you’ll never truly be satisfied. 

Your watch reads ‘8 P.M.’ as you cuddle up to Emily’s side on the white couch in your living room. The two of you had rushed home from the afternoon game, unable to resist the allure of enjoying each other’s company for a few hours.

And now, after redressing yourselves, cooking and eating dinner, washing the dishes, and tidying up the kitchen, the two of you are sitting together, more innocently enjoying each other’s company. She has a book out while you scroll mindlessly through Twitter, poking her side every few minutes to draw her attention to a funny tweet. 

After thirty minutes, however, Emily is deeply immersed into her reading and you’re bored. So, you resort to beginning your favorite activity: staring at her. You look up at her while your head rests against her arm, and you’re still mesmerized by her beauty even years into your relationship.

“What?” she asks without looking away from her book.

“You’re hot.”

She dismisses the comment with a small snicker, but places a kiss onto your forehead regardless. 

“We already fucked today, let me read in peace.”

You huff, but the both of you are well-aware that you aren’t deterred by small obstacles. So naturally, you begin to press a few open-mouthed kisses right below her jaw. She indulges you for a moment, closing her eyes and letting her book rest on her lap. But when a kiss turns into a stinging bite, she opens her eyes and grabs your shoulder. 

“C’mon, stop it. I have to go in for recovery tomorrow, you know that,” she whines. “I already stopped you from leaving marks once today!”

But she should know that you simply can’t help yourself. She should’ve known that you were going to toss away her book from her other hand, grab her wrists, and straddle her lap. She really should know that the stern look she sends you—with her jaw clenched, almost sharpened—while sitting underneath you only makes her hotter. 

She should’ve known that she was going to wake up the next morning with quite a few more marks. 

After all, it's not your fault.