With A Single Word From Netanyahu, The Crossing Was Closed. With A Single Word, Two Million People Were

"light yagami is a misogynist" I say into the mic.

the crowd boos. I begin to walk off in shame, when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room.

"she's right... surprising, for a woman", they say. i look for the owner of the voice. there in the 5th row stands light yagami.

Taste Of You | H. Sero

Summary: It all starts with a question, and ends with… well, this.

Pairing: Hanta Sero x AFAB!reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, a lil bit of dirty talk, Sero has a thing for eating pussy, Sero is a dork, all characters are 18 years old!

Word Count: 4.7k

Available on AO3 here

Note: This is a little something I wrote because I had Sero brainrot. It takes place in this little au I’ve created for myself and is a preface to the Sero fic Sickly Sweet, which is coming next week. Enjoy :)

Keep reading

Miniature cigarette pack editions of classic literature by Tank Books. The Kafka pack contains The Metamorphosis and In The Penal Colony.

"hold on... isn't your leg still injured?" you ask, pulling away from hungry kisses peppered along your chin and down your collarbone in haste. there's sudden alarm in your voice that barou seems to completely disregard as his hand continues to cup the underside of your thigh, eyes bidding you to forget it and continue.

but by now the moment is lost, and your hand is gently placed against his chest. he rolls his eyes, but lets go, and you see it again - a slight wince as he shifts the weight off of his knee and resumes his position sat next to you on the couch.

he says nothing more than a slight grumble under his breath and returns his eyes away from the unwatched movie before you. your heart is still beating and your face is still flushed, but you press on.

"shoei."

he doesn't look at you, arms crossed over his chest.

"yeah."

"your knee?"

his jaw clenches.

"what about it?"

"what did the doctors say?" you press, now leaning forward yourself to glance at him. he tries to avert his gaze, but you stare so hard that he's unable to ignore you. you helped bandage that very knee earlier today; he cannot pretend the injury does not exist.

"two more weeks."

you shake your head. "and yet you were on top of me."

the tick in his jaw returns and he cuts eyes directly at you.

"what if you don't heal properly and can't play again?" you glare back at him with just as much sass, but as you hold gazes for a few more moments in the shifting dark, his annoyance dissolves, replaced by a cheeky grin. he leans forward, enough that his lips nearly graze yours yet again, then looks down at your pout. heat flashes again through your neck and upper chest, and he can tell, pleased so. his mouth pecks at yours.

"if you're so worried, climb on top of me instead."

he has a point.

you swallow hard, but you'll do whatever your King asks of you.

usually.

STOP I JUST REALIZED I DIDNT PUT THE PHOTO OF MINE i got the mary sue one LMAO FHSJKSKA

bruh i am failing half my classes bc i haven’t turned in sm of my assignments

tagging: @nhixxx-s @23soong @smolmo and anyone else who wants to <3

Y’ALL OK IMMA START A TAG GAME

which y/n are u hehe

PLS I GOT PINING ROMANTIC I FEEL SO ATTACKED COS THIS IS ACCURATE AF I LITERALLY DIDN’T KNOW THESE PPL LIKED ME LMAO AGH SHAMEEEE

tags: @mendesxruel @holden-caulfield @faeinorbit @anchoeritic @lcvemalfcy @slutforsalvatore @fives-cup-of-coffee @hey-there-angels @fjorelaant @gxtitobxby @hellounicorn @samineisntmyname @hellohellook @railmeharrypotter @harrysweasleys @harrysnosebleed @potters-heart @gwlvr @sfdlm @justadreamyhufflepuff @mullthingsoverinthehotwater + anyone else i forgot im sorry im so hyped rn

very vague sex, swearing

fake dating to lovers with osamu but there’s no big confession, u guys just end up in a commitment relationship, no words exchanged about it, just boom! ur in love and you don’t even remember it happening

maybe it started cuz there was this manager at his restaurant that would not leave him alone, and you two were pretty tight, maybe ur his college buddy or something. u swing by and he sees the girl and he’s like “can u do me a favour”

n ur like “what is it”

“can you lay one on me” and taps his cheek and makes a kissy noise.

ur like “bro why”

and he’s like “my manager won’t hop off my dick”

so u do and she goes over does the whole “i had no idea you guys were a thing 😆😆😆 how long when did this start???”

and he, committed to the bit, pulls you in by ur waist and goes “ah, a month now, always had a thing for this one since college” and ruffles your hair lovingly. you smile and lean into him and play the part perfectly.

fast forward a couple weeks, whenever you come in (which is often, that’s ur boy!) ur all cutesy and romantic n shit, even kissed on the lips once. he smacked ur ass in front of all the staff, which earned him an earful over text after you went home.

you’ve now developed cute pet names for each other thag started off as ironic but now you can’t drop them. you call him stuff like babe, my big strong man, sweetheart (alternatively sweetfart when you guys are alone), bb (pronounced like that) and he calls you stuff like babe, angel cakes, beautiful. it started off as only in front of his colleagues, but now he’ll whiz u texts at 8 pm like “hey angel cakes, got some left over udon from the shop if ur hungry” or “babe did you send me tik toks at 3am”

and now you don’t just huddle close with other people around, when you meet for coffee he’ll kick your feet under the table and give you hand a squeeze, and when you two have paid and left he’ll walk you back to your car with his arm around your waist. and before you hop into your car, you give him a tight hug and a peck on the lips.

fast forward a couple months now, it’s the staff christmas party, obviously hes gonna bring his girl!!! waitresses come up to u and tell you how jealous they are of you too, how they wish their bf looked at them that way, how they wish they could be that comfortable and in love with someone. you laugh and shake your head modestly, pretending like u don’t know that you two are absolutely perfect. you guys are getting real good at the charade... right?

He swings by and oh my god he is fine as hell. he’s in a fuckinh white button down that’s tight as hell on his big ass chest and shoulders, with them cute dress pants u helped him pick out for his.

you’re not looking too bad yourself. although he’s always let it be know he’s attracted to you, you look particularly cute in your little cropped sweater and that pretty little skirt. Your hair is beautiful (as usual, he’s not sure what you do it to get it so... pretty) and ur makeup makes him wanna grip your face and examine it for hours.

“Hey babe, hey guys, what are we talking about?”

wraps his big ass arm round ur shoulder n ur pussy is UNAPOLOGETICALLY pulsing.

“we were just talking about what a cute couple you two are mr.miya!”

He beams a bright calming smile and squeezes your shoulder, although before you know it his hand slipped down and gives your ass a little squeeze. the pussy pulses tenfold.

“aint we though?”

the party ends, and you’re not sure how it happens but you’re getting bent over his office desk and ploughed like a goddamn wheat field.

fucks u on the small sofa in the corner of his office, bounces u on his dick in his desk chair (his cleaner saw the stains and kept zip, hes real one), ate u out on the fuckinh kitchen counter (which is a fycking health and safety violation but hes horny and silly and it is his restaurant) (but like really?? ur bare ass was on the counter where he makes food and he has no problem?? alright), all moaning and groaning. when you guys are done, he asks if you want to stay the night at his. you take him up on that, and cuddle up close in his bed, too tired to do anything else, just watching a movie or two, you fall asleep on your sides with your back up against his chest and his arms wrapped protectively over you. and after that, you guys are literally inseparable.

It doesn’t fully set in you’re official until one day, about 7 months into the relationship, when a dude hits on you and you say

“ah, i’m sorry, i actually have a boyfriend”

the guy apologies and leaves and you’re left in utter shock, oh my god, you do have a boyfriend don’t you?

that is so weird, how did you not realise? i mean you definitely had feelings for him, and you knew he had feelings for you, and sure you fucked all the time, and yeah ok maybe you did meet his parents, but still. when did that happen?

you try to think back to when it all happened, but there was never an official thing, you guys just... got together out of no where.

When you swing by later that day, you break the shocking news to him.

“You didn’t realise we were boyfriend and girlfriend?”

his mouth is open in a look of confusion and concern.

“y/n it’s been 7 months”

“I know! it just didn’t fully sink, but we’re like, dating, you know? like actually dating, i’m committed right now. when did that happen?”

he scoffed, eyebrows still raised in judgement, and he came round the other side of the counter.

“i mean in my head, the day we got together was the day of the christmas party, that’s when we were official to me.”

He pulled you in by your waist, looking down into your face with a cocky smile.

“You think that’s just what i do with my friends?”

you rolled your eyes, suppressing the girly giggle in your throat.

“oh be quiet, i knew that we were dating, i just didn’t know, you know?”

“No.”

“Whatever. you’re my boyfriend, that’s all that matters.”

“And you’re my stupid little dumb dumb.”

“You can not be my boyfriend anymore if that’s what you want.”

He laughed and pulled you in tighter to him, smushing your cheeks against him.

“I hate you.”

he sighed, breathing your smell in.

“Love you too y/n.”

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧’𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 [ miya atsumu x f!reader ]

word count : 2k // notes: no warnings just me having a crush on atsumu <3

“Are you still single?”

It was an overused taunt between the both of you.

Miya Atsumu, the nation’s bachelor’s twin brother had recently proposed to his girlfriend and so he and his bride had hired you to ensure their wedding day would be perfect.

“And who are you to say that, Miya-san?” You smile, swiping your journal with all of your plans away from his sweaty hold.

He sticks his tongue out when you laugh in triumph.

Each of his friends had fallen into the curse of matrimony—as Atsumu would call it.

His teammates from Inarizaki, from MSBY, down to the national team, and even his rivals have all settled down and some of them even had the “privilege” of having children.

He had attended the majority of the weddings as the best man—being the constant single friend; and you had attended all as their wedding planner and that was how you met the ever so charming Miya Atsumu.

“What’s the excuse this time? Commitment issues? You know... you should probably be planning your own wedding soon, Y/N.” He smiles, playing with the nameplate on your desk. “We’re not getting any younger.”

“I don’t really see the need to get married. Commitment isn’t a joke, Miya-san—“

“Miya-san is my father, just call me Atsumu.”

“I like my job, Miya-san.” You flip through the demands of the couple. They wanted fancy but simple, memorable but special, a garden theme sounded nice but having the reception at a beach wouldn’t hurt, Elegant but hints of youth would be nice.

That was as far as their requests went. The rest was up to the both of you.

Being a good friend of the bride and as the wedding planner, you had the duty of making their day perfect to suit both of their interests.

As the brother of the groom, Atsumu was left in your care to help you out—a request from the engaged couple.

Their special day rested in both of your hands.

Atsumu fumbles with his phone. “I’m just saying, most girls at our age tend to worry about settling down. And we’ve had at least seventeen weddings together in the last six years, right? Seven of them, I was the best man—not that I’m counting or anything.”

He miscounted.

The both of you had seen each other at nineteen weddings total and at every wedding since the third, you would taunt each other regarding your relationship status.

He charmed a bridesmaid or cousin from two of those events but declined their company, danced on one of the tables two weddings ago and Osamu had to bring him down. He cried five weddings prior to this one because that wedding was where his first love married someone else that wasn’t him.

Rumors said he had been sleeping around since then—Atsumu would leave an indefinite and open response but his brother, Osamu, would oppose to say that Atsumu wasn’t the type to do so; and who better to believe than his own twin?

Despite all those times you mentioned you hated seeing his face at all those weddings, the fondness in your eyes reserved for him (and only him) would say otherwise.

When you’re about to lose your mind, he was always there to rescue you and take you away for a bit. Whenever one of the plans goes wrong, he somehow helps you come up with an alternative thanks to his connections.

He was spontaneous yet reliable and you loved having him around.

And his signature cocky grin just made you just want to kiss the corners of his lips.

With a lazy yet cocky smile, Atsumu pocketed his phone. “Why don’t we get married next? That way you can finally plan the wedding of your dreams.”

“No thank you, do you have any idea how expensive weddings are?” You answered rather too fast.

“Money won’t be a concern with me.”

“It’s still a no.”

“Suit yourself.”

Five weddings ago—the same one where he cried his heart out, you slept with Atsumu Miya. The moment his warm hands pressed themselves onto your hips almost like a cry for help, you foolishly allowed him to have his way with you. He wreaked of tears, chardonnay and red wine, cologne from Ralph Lauren, and caramel tarts that night.

There was something about the way he whispered your name instead of hers like a prayer, how he carefully undressed you and looked at you like you were everything he wanted, how his feverish yet impatient touch burned on your skin, how his tongue felt and tasted like caramel against yours, or how he kissed you and said that he loved you.

You left immediately after he passed out on the pale white sheets of the hotel bed.

“Are you still single?” Atsumu’s habitual greeting came as he swung the door to your office open.

“As are you.” You click the pen in your hand while you try to imagine a layout for the ceremony. “The groom wanted something traditional and his bride wanted something modern… I’m thinking of gray satin—“

“This isn’t the first time we worked together, right?” He immediately plops himself down on the couch of your office. From where he sat, he could see fabric samples scattered and pinned on a desk, three whiteboards that blocked the windows full of table arrangements for the reception at a garden, contact numbers listed and posted all over your window.

It was messy—but you had a system.

“No it isn’t.” You look back at him. Miya Atsumu looked so unbelievably handsome you couldn’t help but stare. He was dressed in a white tee and jeans, it was a simple outfit yet his top accentuated his broad chest and shoulders and the jeans around his thighs—

“The first was at Oikawa’s wedding or was it at Bokuto’s or Hinata’s?”

“No it was at Bokuto’s and then at Hinata’s, then it was at Oikawa’s”

He laughed, remembering how stressed you were handling all those events in a span of a year.

( He wonders if you ever took breaks. You rarely asked for help and never brought your personal life onto the table—Atsumu knew so little about you. )

You wave your hand in front of his face and mention that he was aggressively staring off into the void—too intense for your liking. It was like he was plotting a murder or something.

He then ponders about a life with you.

The nation’s best wedding planner and the nation’s eligible and most desired bachelor? That would certainly be a headline or a cover for a magazine.

Would you soon be wearing that navy blue dress from five weddings ago? The very dress he had given you as a gift as a thank you for making his friends happy?

A smile pulled at his lips, remembering how you teared up in gratitude when he managed to pull some strings and hired another media crew to document the wedding when the one you hired decided to back out on you six hours before the event.

They owed him a favor and he wanted to help you.

When you called him your hero and embraced him so tightly that day, he swore his heart stopped.

He wanted you to look at him like that again; seeing as how exhausted you tend to be when planning these events, you most probably needed a partner to help you out. If he had to stop volleyball, perhaps he could run this business with you—if you would allow it.

“Miya and Miya’s Wedding Planning Service.” Atsumu grins to himself and locks eyes with you. “How does that sound to you?”

“If you and your brother are planning to buy my business from me, it’s not happening.”

“Oh, I was thinking of Miya,” Atsumu’s palm rests on top of his chest. “And Miya.” He then gestures over to you—fingers in your direction and palm facing upward.

A proposal.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion with a tinge of shock, feeling your cheeks burning. “What are you talking about—“

“Just painting a picture.” He leaned into the cushions of your couch. “It looks… less lonely and I see two happy people. What do you see?” There was a sound of an object breaking—or rather, crunching, behind him.

“Not a lot without my glasses.”

The professional athlete fished said object from the cushions and promised to buy you a new pair.

You waved it off.

One minute your face was so close to shriveling like a pathetic raisin within the walls of your office from stress, the next it was relishing in the soft breeze of the beach.

“What do you think?” Atsumu rolls the cuffs of his jeans above his ankles. “They loved driving to this spot every summer. This was where my brother and his girlfriend had their last date.”

He passes you the umbrella and dashes into the water, laughing like a child’s first time on the beach.

“Before he proposed?” The sand crunches under your toes, tailing after him.

The resort nearby was owned by one of your cousins—it would make a great location for the reception.

“I think so.” He splashes the seawater your way and invites you to join him in the water. ( You didn’t have the energy to scold him for dampening the cover of your planner. )

You’ve seen him play on the court before. The way the lights would give him some sort of halo, his sweat glistening on his skin, the triumphant grin on his lips, the way his muscles tensed, his sharp eyes...

But to see him underneath the bright afternoon sun—it was different. Atsumu and the beach were a terrific mix. He was beautiful.

Atsumu was reliable, gentle when he wanted to be, a little crass and informal at times, judges characters without hesitation, inviting, endearing, warm, smelled like autumn, safe and whatnot. There was just something alluring about him.

Setting your shoes and planner next to his, you roll up your slacks just below your knees.

The setter beams and cheers when you step into the waters and approach him. His hand was outstretched for you to take which you timidly did.

“We could have the wedding here.” He glances at the waves foaming on the sand. ( It takes him a moment to remember he was there for his brother’s wedding and not his future one. ) “The bride really loves beaches so I believe we’d get plus points for having it here.“ He continues to ramble on about the possible arrangements.

And then it finally settles in you—you like him... a lot.

“I didn’t think wedding planning with you was going to be entertaining.” He squeezes your hands and softly places his lips on the curves of your knuckles. “You know, my offer for Miya and Miya’s Wedding Planning Service is still open.”

And it honestly doesn’t sound so bad...

Thirty hours until the wedding.

Everything was in place, all toxic invited guests were eliminated, never went above the budget, the bride is excited to officially wear her gown and change her surname, the groom is shaking in anxiety and finally got the acceptance of his father-in-law-to-be, none of the hired staff and crew looked like they were going to back out anytime soon...

Both parties were planning to celebrate the day before the wedding and you were planning to get some rest before you were going to be overwhelmed with pressure and stress that will come in the next couple of hours.

Seven months of stressing over the pressure, planning, calls, negotiations, and connections finally paid off.

Atsumu had other plans though—he wasn’t interested drowning in blinding lights and beer that day. Leaving his brother with his peers, the setter had asked you if it was alright to see you.

How could you ever oppose?

The same taunting greeting came as soon as you both locked eyes but this time, there was a hint of hope in his tone. “Are you still single?”

“Who’s asking?” You lean on your doorframe.

“Me.” He shoves his hands in his pockets—his eyes admiring every inch of your face. “So... will you be wearing the same navy blue dress you wore five weddings ago? That pretty velvet one... the one I gave you.”

“Are we going to keep asking questions—wait what?” Your stomach twists in shock. Navy blue dress? Five weddings ago? Does he actually remember what happened?

“I wasn’t drunk that night and neither were you.” Atsumu rubs the back of his neck, processing the mixed emotions on your face. “I don’t regret it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Atsumu, were you planning to match with me tomorrow?” You could not help but smile at the way the tips of his ears burned red.

“I was.”

“Navy blue is not part of the palette, remember?”

“It should have been.”

His lips tasted like cherries that afternoon.

CARVE YOUR NAME INTO MY BEDPOST

cw: AFAB!reader, fingering and oral sex, reader referred to as ‘brave girl’ once, first time hookup vibes when you are nervous and excited and curious and blushing WOOOO, kuroo is service dom king core, slight religious themes if you squint

Kuroo has wanted you for as long as he can remember, since before he even knew what wanting felt like. 

You’d met back in your high school days, and between your quick wits and his know-it-all persona, the dynamic was magnetic. It was always so natural with you, even with his heart beating a mile a minute and his palms sweating against the denim of his jeans. 

The two of you were always a special kind of exception for one another. Friends, always, but with something more buzzing beneath the surface. The constant craving for something out of reach, something thought to be intangible. 

He’s felt it since the very moment he laid eyes on you, but he’d told himself you didn’t—and with that, he left his pride heavy, but intact, in his throat. 

Which is why he can’t believe he’s actually here—with you splayed out across his bed like an angel of temptation in the garden of Eden. Your skin is softer than he ever imagined, your tiny whines more angelic than any prayer he could’ve hummed in church. 

Keep reading

Hey if you’re ever not busy can you do a Suna fic where he just got his wisdom teeth removed😭I’ve seen it done on so many haikyuu characters but Suna and I think it’s so cute. You also write him the best😓

THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR THE KIND WORDS AND THE ADORABLE PROMPT 😭💖💖💖

—-

The nurse told you that they’d used a strong anesthetic because of how impacted his teeth were, but when it took them quite a few times to finally wake him up, you knew you were in for a ride.

Rintaro always hated the dentist. Always. He blames it on childhood trauma (he didn’t have any. He never brushed his teeth and that was his problem) but up until last night, months after his dentist told him he’d need an extraction as soon as possible, he’d been trying to get out of it.

Deep down, seeing him so relaxed in the chair was a relief. The teeth were out, now he has to heal. Easy enough.

You smile as you make your way over to his slowly waking body, taking his hand gently in yours to be the first thing when he woke up. Kissing the knuckles finally had him stirring, and he blinked those bleary green eyes open at you, you practically saw the hearts forming in them.

“Morning, sunshine,” you coo, moving your free hand over to card the messy locks of hair from his face. “How do you feel?”

He tries to speak, but it comes out as a croaky ‘guhhh’ and from a few feet away, the nurse chuckles.

“He’ll have some nasty cotton mouth- literally- for the next few days, but communication should be normal as he starts to wake up,” she says, snapping the gloves off her hands. Then, she passes you the care directions, “no rush. If you need anything, just press the buzzer.” At this point, Rintaro has taken the liberty of grabbing all the gauze he can to put in his mouth. You assume it’s to absorb all the spittle.

“No, no honey,” you chuckle, gently grabbing his hands and pulling the damp cloth out easily. “Be careful. We can change your gauze when we get home.”

“I ‘ont wonna shange my gods,” he mumbles, resting his hands on yours. “‘Ike my gods.”

“Gauze, baby,” you titter. You lean over to plant some kissed onto his forehead, hoping your affections will ease him back more. “The nurse said you might be woozy when you stand, so let’s take it slow okay?”

“Yesh, bosh,” he slurs out. He blinks his foggy eyes before letting them wander around the room, over the sharp objects and wooden cupboards, all before wandering back to you. They widen before a brow quirks in confusion, "who're you 'gain?"

"Me?" You snicker. "I'm the one who's gonna keep you alive for the next few days. Your parents are away, so you're stuck with me." You turn your head slightly, "though that may be the other way around."

"Keep me 'live?" Now, he gives you a small, messy smirk. "'re too schexy to keep me 'live."

"Are you hitting on me?"

He doesn't answer you. Instead, he lets out a small string of laughter, head rolling around his neck in haze. You snort before opting to move him up and out of the room, "come on Romeo. Before you pass out on me."

"nuh-uh," he argues. You, however, choose to ignore him.

It's hard to pay attention when there's a pile of 185 centimeter man on your right shoulder, saying goodbye to every hygienist, dentist, secretary, patron, and flower on the sidewalk on the way to the car. There's a slurp from the spittle in his mouth that rings in your ear and makes you want to gag, but you chose to count some of your blessings.

He's at least mobile- unlike the horror stories you've heard about Osamu falling asleep in the seat while Atsumu wailed about the bandaid on his arm.

Finally, you and your oaf are able to make it to the car, his eyes closed in an attempt to sleep, and you jostle him awake slightly.

"I need you to work with me just a bit longer, okay?"

"When'd we get ousside?" He slurs.

"Not long after you said goodbye to the flowers," you say, rolling your eyes. "Watch your head, babe."

He ducks under your guiding palm, but you're not fast enough before he bumps the crown of his head against the door frame, mumbling a soft "ow" before moving on. It takes everything in your power to not laugh at his poor expense.

"It's because you've got such a big melon head, booger," you tease, and he smiles softly.

"'Ike mewons."

"I know baby."

You buckle him in before closing the door. You give yourself a stretch before heading to the driver's side.

You hadn't had him out of your sight for 25 seconds before you open the door and see him with your chapstick, completely rolled up and making a move towards his mouth.

He's either eating it, or trying to apply it.

Neither sounds like a good idea.

“Rintaro!” You scold, reaching for the chapstick. “You can’t eat that! You’ll get sick!”

“You’re th'ick,” he grumbles, but he does release his hold on your chapstick. His head thunks back against the headrest, letting you buckle while he says one more round of goodbyes to the flowers.

"Gonna nap," he murmurs, and you chose not to fight him on it. "Don't pick mah nothe."

"Why the hell would I do that?" You ask, laughing as you start the car.

He doesn't answer you. He's too busy letting his jaw slack open and let out the wheeziest of snores. You put your hand on his thigh and squeeze lovingly, allowing the hum of the engine and warmth from the sun lull him to sleep.

He's out, he's comfortable, and you can't wait to tell him about how, even drugged out of his mind, he still tried to put the moves on you.

You'll have to leave out the head smacking, though. Let him blame himself for that bruising.

i broke into ur brain just to call u out in this quiz (but in a soft way). how does it feel to be loved by u?