I Love This And I Love You!

I love this and I love you! ♥️

omg feeder kiri drabbles, can't wait! <3

only because i love you so...

(warnings: eating, kiri buying you A LOT of food, weight gain mentioned but not in a bad way, etc.)

-

I don’t even mean this is a force-feedy way but... Kirishima’s the boyfriend who’s always trying to make sure you’ve eaten.

Calling you after work, texting you when you’re on the bus… he’s such an old man that way; always making you a bowl of his daily choice of fruit whenever he’s slicing something up, asking you to hold out your hands if he’s eating any kind of snack… even shoving the sandwich he made for himself right in your face and asking if you want a bite as you walk by.

Doesn’t matter what it is, because he’s sharing it… and would literally let you eat off his plate if that’s what it came down to; his belly fills with warmth and happiness every time you share the act of eating with him.

Whenever you catch up to him at the mall, standing around getting boba or smoothies with the rest of the boys, he’s immediately passing you his drink so that you can have a sip, too... asking if you like it while everyone else gags at how sweetly he insists upon taking care of you that way.

Of course, the rest of the day goes like that too, with the two of you passing a single cup back and forth, using the same straw and all… not to mention how often he offers to buy you food, too.

Drink runs out, he’s asking where your next one should come from. Pass a pretzel cart and it’s “which one looks good?” without waiting for an answer.

And when he pesters you about getting fast food on the way home, he’s always making sure to get you an extra order of fries or that new milkshake flavor that’s everyone’s been talking about lately, too… because even if you say you’re not that hungry, or don’t even end up not eating or drinking anything, that means he can… and to him, it’s worth bothering you over, at least because he’d never want you to feel depraved or hungry around him for even a second.

Even when you complain about gaining weight, or confide in him that you worry you might… Kirishima is brushing your concerns off with a, “doesn’t matter, you deserve it,” or a “huh, but you look great…!” as though he’s not at least slightly aware of what he’s doing to you.

And god forbid you mention getting take-out in front of him, either... because Kirishima will already be grabbing his phone and pulling the menu up by the time you finish your sentence… even when you laugh and say you were just kidding, and even if you already went out to lunch earlier.

He orders you whatever you want (and more, just in case), whether that’s three separate entrées you can’t choose from or a single cup of soda (large)… and when you point out that the delivery fees practically make it not worth the effort, it almost as though he presses the ‘place order’ button faster…

Basically… Kirishima likes it when you're full... and likes being the one who gets you that way❤️

The Salarian Union formally requests that you not touch that.

#puffpuffsmash [nsfw 18+, terushima yūji]

1,9k words

✯haikyuu!! masterlist✯

sometimes it just feels better not to think.

smut, light drugs (marijuana), alcohol consumption, tiny bit of angst, mentions of cheating, fluff, fuckbuddies to lovers ??

this is my bit of the ukai nation stoner collab by @keishinslove :) enjoy xo

☾𓆙𓂻

it’s just past midnight when he gets the text from you: we ended things, come over pls? and terushima yūji does not need to be told twice.

u got any pre rolls?

yeah, i gotchu

yūji’s kind of been the side dick for a minute now, not that he minds much—he could get a girl if he wanted, too—but as he reads that conversation over and over, backwards and forwards, he wonders a little if maybe he could change that tonight. he’s gonna try not to get his hopes up, though.

and on your side of things… there’s just something about yūji that you can’t explain, that your boyfriend (now ex) never had. the idea of infidelity had never even crossed your mind before him, but somehow, it was too alluring not to give into him. in yūji there’s a fire, even with the knowledge that you aren’t his to keep. he was always easy to talk to, even as a complete stranger, never awkward; so much more so now. he’s fun to be with. he makes the mundane feel like memories from a film camera.

he’s at your apartment twenty minutes later, a little aluminum pencil tin (with a dragon ball logo on it, no less) in his hand—his, from primary school. it’s long since been repurposed as a place to hold joints. when you come to the door, you’re already in your pjs: a crewneck and a pair of floaty, tiny little shorts that he’s pretty sure are so barely there that he’d be able to see your panties from the back. but forget that.

not even a hello, the first thing he says to you is, “what happened?”

you take him by the forearm, pulling him inside and shutting the door behind him as you answer. “he found out.”

“‘bout me?”

“yep.”

that sets his mind racing—your boyfriend found out and it’s him you’re keeping around? that must mean something, right?

“how’d he find out?”

“you left a t-shirt here last time, i guess. he saw it, knew it wasn’t his. figured out the rest.”

yūji takes a seat on your sofa, looking at the floor. “you’re not mad?”

you shrug. it kind of baffles you too, after all, why you aren’t. instead you say, “we can smoke on the balcony?”

“sure. d’you have a light?”

he catches the way you bite your lip as you smile and nod, not saying anything as he lets you lead him outside.

this is the truth: maybe he wants you more than he lets on, and for more than what he lets on. maybe he doesn’t just want to be here for the fun bits. maybe he thinks it could be nice to be here for all of it, even if all of it isn’t always nice. until now, though, he hasn’t let himself dwell on that long enough to decide.

†

there’s this line of a song yūji half remembers: no ceiling but the sky… smoke from her lips bleeds into the air… something like that, anyway. you remind him of it. or it reminds him of you, he’s not sure.

joint already between your lips, you hand the light to him and lean forward. his eyes are fixed on your mouth, the air silent but for the light wind in the trees and the rush of cars below and the flick and release of the lighter as the tip of the joint glows orange, a wordless neon sign a centimeter in diameter. a neon sign that, despite its wordlessness, draws yūji in. he forgets where he is for a moment; why he’s here if not to experience this sense of raw want.

he just so happens to glance down at the lighter as he places it back in your hand. there are words on it. if you want to fuck, smile when you hand me back. oh. he looks up to you and grins, any words he had silenced as you exhale and slip the joint between his lips.

“wait,” you say with a note of a smile in your own voice, and turn to face out to the view. it’s pretty at night, what you can see from the balcony overlooking the outskirts of the city.

†

out here you’ve got a bottle of cabernet, too. you don’t bother with glasses, just drink it straight from the bottle.

when your head feels light, you can’t remember how you got here. everything is warm, breeze tingling on your skin, and you’re leaning back against the sliding door and laughing at something yūji said. it’s so easy to laugh with him.

he says to you, “okay, i’ve been waiting,” as he passes the second joint of the night, burnt almost down to the filter, back to you. his fingers brush against your wrist when he pulls his hand away.

“waiting for what?”

he laughs. “d’you have a light?”

“huh, why— oh. hmm.”

†

what’s left of the joint is abandoned in an ashtray on your coffee table, the mostly empty wine bottle forgotten next to it.

yūji’s in your bed. he can’t be bothered to think when the clothes came off, but at some point they must have because at the very least he knows he didn’t show up here naked and now there’s nothing but the sheets as a barrier between your skin and his. strange.

it isn’t unusual for him to get hungry when he’s stoned. now he takes that out on you, licking and biting at your skin: shoulders, thighs, throat, wherever he can reach. his breath is warm against your skin, like a hot bath, a steamy shower room.

he goes down between your legs and it’s sweet and sticky… yes, this should satiate him. his hands grip at your waist, pulling you closer into him, and he’s crossed enough that he can stop thinking for a moment and just be here. no inhibitions, no memories or foresight, just now. just you, arching your back into the mattress and whimpering, biting down on your thumb because too soon it’s too much. you don’t want him to be done yet, you don’t want to be done yet.

oh well. he’s still got quite a bit more to give you. you’re driving him insane as you grind your hips against his face, his own rutting desperately into the mattress. to be fair, though, you could drive him insane doing nearly anything, and he’s just realizing that now and he tells you as he lifts his head to take a breath.

earth stops, spinning in place as you sit up a little. “what?”

he doesn’t say anything. he licks his lips and pins you down and kisses you. maybe that’s all the answer you need. it’s tepid and clear and you can understand everything now. you can understand that you need him touching you right now, you need him inside you, you need to be biting his lip. the metal of his piercing clicks against your teeth and it feels like electricity in your bones. your hands are on him, caressing absentmindedly; your head is nowhere and everywhere all at once.

“fuck me,” you breathe onto his tongue, and terushima yūji does not need to be told twice.

when he’s inside of you it’s like you’ve been missing a body part and now it’s returned; a severed limb reattached by some miracle. it is a miracle. the two of you, bare chests against each other, feels miraculous. where has this been all your life?

and where have you been all his life, how could he have been okay with that, with meeting you against the wall of some mediocre club and becoming just a sidepiece? how is it that he’s never much cared to be more?

maybe now the weed’s not keeping him from thinking, but doing the opposite; you’re underneath him moaning and then somehow you’re on top of him, your face pressed into his neck as you ride him, and his brain keeps going, say it. say it. say it. but neither of you are gone enough for him to do that without thinking.

ah, ah, ah, you’re breathing, infusing his skin with your ecstasy. music. his hands reach down to grab at your ass, helping you to move. you whimper. “yūji…”

“fuck, gonna make me cum, fuck.”

“mmh!” your thighs shake against his, your teeth burying themselves into the skin just above his collarbone as you lose control of yourself.

he flips you both over, moves you onto your stomach to take you from the back, grabbing your hips and pulling them back to meet his, body smacking hard against your ass as he watches you writhe, god, you’ve never been sexier. his fingers are gentle and barely there against your clit; it’s so much all at once. you need to scream but can’t get the sound out. there are tears on the pillow beneath you, it’s so good, so good, so fucking good, you’re so tight and you’re creaming on his cock again and again and he fucking loves it.

he groans long and low when he cums, burying himself deep inside you and filling you up as you sob out his name in between shaky breaths.

†

it’s in your bed, in soft cotton sheets now probably tainted with sweat and cum that yūji awakes. you’re there, too, still naked, your back to him and ass pressed up against his thigh. are you awake yet? you’re awake. you’ve got your phone in your hand, scrolling absently, and there’s something about that, the idea of it, that just…

you didn’t wake him. you didn’t leave him there. you didn’t make him go. it’s like you’ve been waiting for him to wake up.

the swish of the sheets and the shifting weight on the mattress as he sits up is enough to get your attention, and you roll over to face him. you give him a small smile, just the eyes.

“morning.”

“morning,” he responds. it’s quiet, but loud inside his head. you’re just staring up at him, eyes wide and full of something soft. fuck it. “can i ask you something?”

“go for it.”

“why— i mean, um, did you mean to pick me over him?”

you turn your gaze to the ceiling, thinking for a second before you give him your answer. “hm,” you say, “i guess i did.”

“why?”

there’s another pause. if anticipation could kill…

“i wish i could tell you.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

air circulates through the room all around you like ghosts.

“i don’t know why i did. but i did, so… there you go, i guess.” your voice carries in it a note that sounds something like desperation, like melancholia. much gentler, though. you want to be able to give him an answer. “are you… going to do something about it?”

he takes a second to think, too.

“can i stay?”

you drape an arm over his lap, press a little kiss on his hip as you nuzzle your face into his side. “please do.”

and there are more questions to be asked later—god knows how much later, though. but for now, yūji indulges himself in the fantasy of you being only his. it’s closer, now, brushing against his fingertips as he reaches up toward it. i don’t know why, you said to him moments ago, but maybe that’s better. there are depths of feeling that cannot be held by language: they can only be grasped through drowning in them. and, actually, he thinks, that wouldn’t be a bad way to go.

𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑, 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚝; 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐?

- jean-jacques rousseau, the origin of languages. 1781.

Thanks everyone so much for 40 notes on this I appreciate it so much 🥺

How do we feel about hearing impaired Bakugo? I know I’ve seen some HC’s of it here and there but not a lot (at least not in my area of tumblr).

Now I am not part of the deaf/HoH community and am absolutely not an expert on this by any means. I don’t understand all the day to day struggles as in depth as I’d like to. I just really don’t want to be THAT person you know? 😬😬

ANYWAY back to my thoughts at hand

I have some mixed feelings about it all, of course depending on when he loses his hearing, or maybe he’s never had it all to begin with.

If it started occurring when he was young I feel like he would be pressured into getting a cochlear implant, by his mom mostly. To me she feels like the type not to embrace that openly. I could genuinely see her getting upset when he as a child responds to her less and less. Or when he asks for things to be repeated, for her to slow down when she talks.

He’s expected to get everything right the first time and that’s just not how it works- she’s the mom that unironically says “read my lips” like that’s just something everyone can do. Also says things like “didn’t you hear what I said?” or “I know you’re ignoring me”, she definitely screams at him when he doesn’t respond quick enough. In instances like the last lines I see him sticking his device to something and leaving it there for her to find as a giant fuck you.

But generally within the surrounding community, life just not readily accessible to everyone. She would see this as the only “acceptable” option for her son to be normal (what the fuck even is normal).

I think when he grew up he would come to resent her a lot for not allowing him to choose for himself. Growing up in a household that views you as a disappointment is hard.

In this scenario I could see him learning sign on his own, whether it be online in his spare time, of course when he’s a little older. Or with the help of his father- I feel like he would be much more accepting and helpful here. Actively trying to get his son into a community where he feels like he’s understood. One where he is enough as he is.

To jump to something happier like I intended this to be-

Katsuki would be such a passionate sign user. His personality and attitude being so expressive; there’s no way he’s being misunderstood anymore. Of course he can still use his processor for school and his hero work, but when he’s off the clock he definitely doesn’t wear it.

Of course there’s the HCs of his friends learning sign to communicate with him better, and it pretty much becomes a must when he refuses to wear the device unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Him teaching them the basics and then bringing them to a deaf function would be a great bonding experience for him and the squad, they’re all learning so much and getting to be people he can rely on a little more. Instead of being so alone.

My favorite thing to think about when it comes to stuff like that is that everyone’s sign name would be something hilarious to him, if not offensive. He definitely gives them their names without them knowing it. But would eventually have to change them when he introduces them to other people in his community.

(The sign for shitty hair is probably something that would get a lot of confused looks, and finger spelling is waaaaaaaaay too impractical for day to day conversation)

Probably a much unneeded and unwanted bnha HC is that Aizawa would unironically be a Nickleback fan.

Unfortunately I don’t take criticism here 😂😂

Do you simp for Enji Todoroki in a "big titty man" way, or an "I have childhood trauma" way