Four Drink Rule - Suna Rintarou/f!reader (1.6k) Sfwish, A Bit Silly, Alcohol Mention, Enemies To Something,

do me a solid and just reblog this saying what time it is where you are and what you’re thinking about in the tags.

GIVE ME FIXING EACH OTHER’S CLOTHES WITH KUROO RIGHT NOW 😨‼️ love u hehe <3 if u don’t want kuroo please do whoever u would like most :)

ofc ofc anything for u my love <33 - "fixing each other's clothes" w kuroo **suggestive!!

if you were to tell this story to anyone else, you'd say he's not normally like this. that kuroo is always professional and kind and that he would never dare to act like this—never. but that's not true, never would be true, because the way his breath fades into your own and the way he bites at your lips in the dark corners of this work event is entirely too familiar to you.

there's a distant call of his name, but he's too busy slipping the strap of your dress down your shoulder to ever notice, laughter pricking at ever kiss he presses to the skin there.

"kuroo," you whisper, and you can feel him smile against you, "kuroo."

he looks up at you now, the first button of his shirt is undone, his hair a bit messier than it was a moment before, and just a little bit of lipstick smeared across his mouth.

"we need to head back," you say, and he rolls his eyes, leaning back down to press another kiss to your collarbone, but you tug back on his collar, pulling him up until his eyes meet yours. "and fix you."

"that's a very long process, babe," he says, laughing when you swat at his chest and start buttoning his shirt back up. "you're no fun, you know that?"

"i'm plenty fun when your boss isn't looking for you."

he sighs, lolling his head back as your fingers trail over his collar and set it back into place.

"my boss can suck my di-"

"ah, nope, not here. you can't get fired today."

"yeah, yeah, whatever," he replies, and then leans down to you for the last time, pulling the strap back up your shoulder (but carefully trailing kisses in its wake anyway).

send me prompts from this list for a drabble !

Imagine making out with him and he's holding you in place when he starts grinding against you, all the while scraping his teeth on your neck. You can feel his hardening length grow and you can only wrap your legs around him.

And the kissing 

GOD THE KISSING  Whenever you try to moan, he silences you immediately. His hot tongue makes your body turn to jelly. You let him violate your mouth cause it feels so good. His saliva is the closest thing to tasting nectar and you're addicted to it. You shiver as he slips his hands under your bra and fondles your soft breasts. You feel wet between your legs as he pinches and rolls your nipples with his thumbs, taking in your moans and whimpers. He knows where to touch you every time and how helpless you are underneath him.

When he pulls back, your body's flushed, your panting loudly, and eyes clouded with lust. You're the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen and so lucky to have you. He looks down and sees your lower region throbbing from the make out section. He moves to your ear and asks in a low, carnal voice 'Want me to help you with that babe?'

Your mind is all mush, but with what strength you have left, you spread your legs, showing your moist entrance. Your face pleading and hands resting on your inner thighs. He takes this as a 'yes' and you shudder when he licks his lips.

By the time he was done, you were in heaven. Your body relaxed after so much pleasure was bestowed upon you. His seed’s leaking out of you, with bite marks all over your body. The only memory you have is him laying his head on your chest, his strong, gentle arms wrapping themselves around you.

Bokuto, Kuroo, Dabi, Avocato, Atsumu, Tendou, Suna, Oikawa, Tanaka, Sakusa, Sugawara, Hinata + (your fav)

iwaizumi shouldn’t have drank last night.

he knows that, you know that, and now, as you walk into your class full of freshmen, you’re pretty sure that they all know that too. if it weren’t obvious by the way he squinted and groaned at the fluorescent lights as you crossed into the classroom, you’re sure that the venti cold brew coffee (no milk, no sugar, just cold brew), the slightly oversized, gray uci volleyball sweatshirt, and the scowl on his face would certainly give it away.

about half the class is there, and they quickly devolve into little whispers as you follow after him, your own set of little giveaways to the fact that neither of you should’ve been drinking last night—knowing damn well that every friday you have an 11am to teach.

you both sit at the front of the classroom, and iwaizumi presses his head into his hands, letting a little groan slip out as you take another sip of your own coffee, trying to let your eyes adjust to the lights.

another gaggle of students walks into the room, laughter piercing the air as well as your ears. you watch as iwaizumi scrunches his eyes together, takes a sip of his coffee, and then goes back to his head in his hands.

there’s a little whisper of is he okay? from somewhere in the back of the classroom, and if you had been a little more sober last night, you’d probably respond with a teasing no. when you woke up this morning to the sound of your alarm, he’d tossed and turned until he found your phone, turning it off before stuffing his head back into your pillows, one arm lazily wrapped around your waist.

and then he did it again. and again. and then once more, until it was 10:15 and if you didn’t leave in the next ten minutes, there was no way you’d be able to make it to starbucks before class. and good lord, you were not going to allow that to happen.

so no, the short answer is that iwaizumi is not at all okay. so you stand up from where you sit at the desk and, despite how dizzy you are, get up to turn off the lights.

“we’re trying something new today, guys,” you start, feeling a little better now that those damn lights aren’t pressing into your skull. “i read somewhere that overhead lights aren’t conducive to learning or- something,” you wave your hand in front of you as you speak, slowly making your way back to your seat, “so, just say that if anyone asks.”

iwaizumi huffs out a little laughter from beside you, hardly more than a rush of air through his hands and the sudden movement of his chest. the rest of the class walks into the room, each one gesturing vaguely at the lights above before the other students shrug and rattle off some poor repetition of your own explanation.

you settle back into your chair, your cheek resting in one of your palms while the other hand swirls your coffee. iwaizumi gives you a look at the sound of the ice rattling, and you narrow your eyes at him, taking a sip rather indignantly to remind him that he’s the one who dragged the two of you to that damn party.

one of your freshman, the one who sits at the front and was always the least intimidated by the tattoo that crawled up iwaizumi’s arm and the scar that rested in his brow, laughs, and then raises a hand. you nod, and then he smirks, leaned back in that freshly-eighteen kind of confidence.

“you guys enjoy the sigep party last night?”

iwaizumi coughs, which sends you into a little fit of quiet laughter, and he nudges your leg with his own in an attempt to get you to shut up.

“no,” iwaizumi replies, all furrowed brows and drawn in breaths. everyone that knows him would know that he’s lying, and these freshman aren’t exactly an exception to that. “no, we don’t go to those.”

he takes another sip of his coffee, winces at the sudden movement, and then fixes his face while the class once again devolves into whispers—only this time mixed with quiet laughter. part of you is praying that none of them were at the sigep party. though most of last night is a bit of a haze, you know well enough that your lovely boyfriend gets terribly touchy after a few drinks, and you’re not exactly one to stop him past that point. so should any of your lovely, annoying, and terribly stupid freshman choose to witness that-

well, you’re not exactly sure you’ll ever gain back the respect you had at the beginning of the semester, that’s for sure.

“so,” you begin after another sip of your coffee, “get out your discussion questions.”

there’s a little collective groan from the class, and iwaizumi brings up a hand with narrowed eyes, bringing a finger to his lips to tell them all to be a little quieter.

if everything else hadn’t given it away, you think that was the nail in the coffin. but then he leans closer to you, tempting a whisper past his lips while they all rustle around in their backpacks for their notebooks and a pen.

“think they know?” he asks, and you know it’s all teasing—there’s a lilt in his voice that wasn’t there this morning (which, you’ll thank the half a cold brew he’s already drank for), and a smile pricks at his lips that makes you want to kiss him right there.

you don’t, because dear god these freshmen are ruthless, and if you give them one more thing to bully you for, you think you’ll both end up dead.

“no,” you reply, “they’re clueless.”

reblogs and interaction are super appreciated! ❤︎

if i was a star and you were a star i would wink at you and blink at you and twinkle at you and the earthlings would call it science.

hmmm modern trigun!au where vash goes to a rave and tries molly for the first time and it makes his plant markings come out

404+ Palestinians MURDERED in less than a day.

— HQ BOYS + WHAT THEY WEAR

feat. iwaizumi hajime, kuroo tetsurō, miya atsumu, miya osamu, bokuto kōtarō, yaku morisuke, hanamaki takahiro, matsukawa issei

note. this also includes what they smell like. idc if u agree w these. i’m correct. objectively.

IWAIZUMI always smells like sweet tobacco when you get close enough. it mixes with his sweatshirt long enough that when you wear them, it swirls around you in a way that settles deep in your skin. (and, of course, there’s that scent of sea salt that rests on tanned skin. so when he kisses you, you almost swear you can taste it). so in that way, iwa will always remind of you feeling a little younger, of making stupid decisions just for the hell of it, of that first taste of independence that you’ll never get back.

KUROO smells like oak, something that could almost be the scent of leather mixing his skin. he’s strong when he hugs you, all encompassing as his arms find your body, pulling you in until all you know is the material of his shirt—either a flannel or a dress shirt, depends if you’re at a bar or not—and the scent of his cologne. and when he presses the lips to the top of your head, you know that he’s all encompassed by you, too.

ATSUMU smells almost like citrus—bright and sweet enough to pull you in and leave you smiling in his shoulder. he’ll make fun of you every moment he can, teasing you with the lilt of his voice and the bow of his head, but when you meet him with laughter, you find that his own is quick to follow.

OSAMU smells like a deep sandalwood. it’s the kind that buries into you and holds you close, the kind that twists around your whole body like it could keep you there forever. it’s almost warm, low and comforting and kind in a way that could only mean osamu. so when his thumb swipes against your cheek, when it follows the curves of your face, you allowing yourself to be consumed—by all of him.

BOKUTO smells like nutmeg, maybe a little cinnamon if you catch him on an especially good day. it’s the scent of those sweet spices, of something that feels a bit like home and that you know would taste sweet if it were to ever land on your tongue. it’s that mix of sugar and laughter and all things good that comes with bokuto. it’s enough to want him to hold your hand or your waist or whatever he may wish until the days become too long for either of you to stay awake.

YAKU smells like fresh pine, a little youthful in the way he smiles and teases you with every slip of his tongue. he draws you in with that damn taunting gaze, with the way his teeth poke out through that held-back smile, only to leave you with your eyes rolling and laughter threatening your voice. and he loves it. every second of it. so he does it everyday just to hear it over and over again.

HANAMAKI smells a little like acrylic paint—not the part that stings your nose and leaves your eyes watering, no. it’s the sweetness of it, the parts of him that are covered in little bits of red and blue from old art pieces. some days, he smells like the dusting of charcoal, of pen against paper—but no matter what, it’s him and it’s passionate and it’s more than you could ever ask for.

MATSUKAWA smells like clean linens. it’s hardly more than a suggestion of a scent, but when you get close enough—your nose buried in his collar while laughter pricks at his tongue—you can smell it. and it’s something that feels uniquely soft to him, something that you would know if it only passed by the quake of your breath, so it’s enough.

best boy yamaguchi deserves a whole series of zookeeper merch for him only!! 🐧🐼🦒🦁🧡

I know people hate it but I love the best friend had secretly loved you for years trope