"No One Wants To Work Anymore." Damn Right Brother. If I Could Sit In A Beautiful Field For 40 Hours

Omi I'm going to eat you aliveee ooh my godddddd

Shimmer!Kane just casually fucking u over and over again cus he's very intrigued by the noises you make, which are slowly turning into small pathetic whimpers and cries, is taking over my mind.

Sex with him is initially very vanilla, just quick missionary, no after care, stuffs you then rolls over.

It's not until he shifts position a little and hears the gaspy moan that hitches from your throat he becomes truly interested. He studies your face, the way your thigh muscles tense, how your brow furrows and twitches every time he fully sheaths himself inside you.

You wouldn't notice his new found intrigue in your body until instead of rolling over like he usually does, he remains on top of you, pulling your legs over his shoulders and immediately going for round two.

Kane wouldn't stop until you were literally begging, letting him know your body was beyond its limits. For the sake of your well being he'd obey, and for the first time he'd think to do aftercare. He wants your body in good condition, a healthy one that he can breed properly.

He brings water to your lips, not letting you so much as sit up on your elbows as he murmurs quick, direct commands.

"Drink. Open your legs. Lie down. Rest."

Your recuperation period is short lived, because the very next night he's on top of you with five different positions he'd like to test out.

All I got to say is the season finale defo made me cream my pants

you should be able to say “fuck if i know” to customers

incendiary | 3 | bakugou x reader

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

length: 4.9k of ~23k / 3rd of 8 chapters

summary: When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, light hurt/comfort

warnings: themes of discrimination (please see note in fic masterpost), canon typical violence, eventual smut, aged up characters

notes: A HUGE thank you to my sensitivity readers @cat-slippered​ and @darkenedniqhts​. They’re both incredible writers and lovely human beings, please check their fics out!! Please see my notes in the fic masterpost for more!

In the morning, you woke to the slam of pots in the kitchen.

You shot up, instantly getting tangled up in your covers. You struggled against their tight coiling, letting out a strangled hrgh noise before overbalancing and slipping over the side of the couch, landing hard on your shoulder.

An ugly chuckle issued from the kitchen. You poked your head up to catch a scarlet eye turned in your direction, the maliciously pleased curl of a full mouth. You stared for a moment, disoriented, wondering who the hot blonde was, why he was so familiar, and what he was doing in your house.

Then he turned towards you more fully, his eyes flickering judgmentally over you, and it all caught back up with you.

Ugh. Fucking Bakugou.

Part of you had hoped when you woke, this all would have proved a very detailed and specific nightmare. But the nightmare was still there, glaring at you while he neatly chopped vegetables and set a pot to boiling on the stove, still wearing that stupid black tank that showed off the meticulously honed, deadly perfection of his biceps.

Double ugh.

You groaned and sank back to the ground, biting down some choice swear words. Bakugou ignored you, the only sounds from the kitchen the quick thump of his knife against a cutting board, the snap and hiss of the grill drawer being turned on.

You slowly extricated yourself from your tangled heap of blankets, beating a bleary but hasty retreat to the bathroom to escape his presence, grabbing a change of clothes and your toiletries on the way.

In the bathroom, Bakgou had apparently already set out his own—a toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, a razor, and a small travel size container of shaving cream were laid away behind the mirror. On the shelves, a small zippered pouch in a deep gray lay next to a stack of fluffy towels.

You couldn’t help but peek inside, intrigued by the idea of Bakugou Katsuki having personal effects like an actual human being. Inside, a comb, some kind of expensive smelling hair gel, and spares of the items behind the mirror peered back at you. It all seemed weirdly domestic, weirdly intimate, and you quickly backed away, turning on the shower instead. You flung off your clothes, scattering them all over the bathroom in your haste to get into the shower and away from Bakugou’s things.

Of course Bakugou was a living, breathing human (demon), which you had quickly realized yesterday. But it still threw you for a loop to realize he was more than the person you saw on TV, or even the spitting, snarling gremlin who’d stood in the detective’s office and vehemently refused to protect you. He existed outside those spaces—he brushed his teeth and shaved his face and did his hair like every other human man on earth. He apparently also chopped vegetables very expertly and had enough presence of mind to start grilling things early in the morning. There were moments, domestic and intimate, that he had, just like everyone else.

You jumped into the shower, disliking the thought of him as anything other than a feral garbage rat. A quirkist, feral garbage rat, at that.

Keep reading

Happiness Will Come To You.

Lo’ak

What I've felt,

What I've known,

Never shined through in what I've shown.

Never free

Never me

So I dub me unforgiven.

lmao get loved loser

get absolutely fucking treasured