｡⋆𖦹.✧˚──

don't get your banana too close to me

max to kimi: "I can't believe you have all the equipment and the radio there" 😭

First Lottie, then Van, then Mari, now the fucking pope. When will the horrors end.

ugh i would LOVE to read more about bruce x clark x reader and the kryptonian breeding season if you ever wanna write more about that

#KRYPTONIAN BREEDING SEASON HCs ˎˊ˗

Bruce Wayne x Clark Kent x fem!Reader 🩷 ── .✦

a/n : okay sooo like… i literally cannot stop thinking about bruce and clark absolutely wrecking me during kryptonian breeding season like??? one’s all cold and calculated and the other one is just a feral puppy in heat and i’m the dumb little thing stuck between them crying and begging and full of everything they wanna give me… like oops!! guess i was made to be their perfect lil cumdump. this is for my fellow needy girlies who love getting bred stupid and filled over n over until they can’t walk and don’t even remember their name — just “daddy” and “sir.” be safe, be hydrated, and don’t trust clark when he says “just one more” because HE’S LYING 🤥 mwahhh enjoy the mess!! 🩷

ᯓ★ The moment Clark’s breeding season starts, you can feel it in the air. Clark’s body runs hotter, his touches linger longer, and he starts growling under his breath whenever another man looks at you—even Bruce.

ᯓ★ He becomes insatiable. We’re talking multiple times a day, desperate humping against your thighs in the morning, needing you on your hands and knees before you’ve even had coffee.

ᯓ★ His favorite position during his “breeding season” ? Bent-over mating press or from behind with your knees tucked under you—anything where he can press his weight into you, knot himself deep, and stay there.

ᯓ★ Clark marks you with his scent constantly—nuzzling your neck, rubbing your inner thighs, licking your chest—and gets irrationally possessive when it starts to fade.

ᯓ★ Bruce pretends he’s above it. He even scoffs when Clark starts his “breeding season” —until he sees you dripping and trembling from being bred nonstop.

ᯓ★ That’s when the switch flips. Suddenly, he’s in front of you while Clark fucks you, holding your jaw and making you look up at him while he fucks your mouth.

ᯓ★ He talks dirty in your ear while Clark’s breeding you, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise:

“He’s going to fuck a baby into you. Do you want that? One from both of us?”

ᯓ★ He won’t let Clark have you all to himself. Bruce insists on taking your mouth or ass while Clark has your pussy. Double stuffing is standard during breeding season.

ᯓ★ Bruce never loses composure, but the way he clenches his jaw and grunts when he spills inside you? That’s his version of falling apart.

ᯓ★ They don’t fight over you—they share you. Clark fucks to breed; Bruce fucks to claim.

ᯓ★ They put you in heat-like states just from overstimulation: pinned between both of them, cock-drunk, messy, and mumbling about wanting their babies while one holds your legs open and the other fills you to the brim.

ᯓ★ They make you cum over and over just to ensure your body is “ready to receive”—Bruce with slow, cruel fingers on your clit, Clark rutting in and out like an animal until your thighs shake.

ᯓ★ The aftercare is almost worse: Clark’s kissing your belly, talking about “how many he thinks took,” while Bruce presses a hand over your full cunt to keep everything inside.

“Don’t waste a drop. You’re ours.”

imagine fucking clark kent... mid air.

this probably—most definitely—wasn't your brightest idea.

but it's not everyday you get to fuck and fly with superman now, do you?

you had to convince him to do it. he loved you, and loved being intimate with you, but this was—and he was sure of it—one hell of a bad idea. so it took you weeks, actual weeks, of begging and convincing, talking about it, mapping out every reason why you thought this was genius.

"please, kent, please! it'll be so fun and refreshing!" you sat on his lap while he was laying down on the bed, looking up at you, shaking his head. "people will notice and see us, sweetie." you ran your hands up his chest, "if you go high up enough, they won't even see a thing!"

finally, after two weeks of not touching you (because you refused to let him do so unless it was to take you mid air), he agreed.

you were tightening your silk robe around your waist, waiting for him by the balcony. you obviously weren't wearing anything underneath it, considering the main goal was intimacy. he arrived, in his own black robe, and grabbed you firmly yet delicately by the waist.

"are you ready, pretty?" he asked, voice low and protective. your knees buckled a bit, but you nodded. "of course." and he tightened his grip around your waist before jumping up in the air, and holy shit-

you were flying.

then, you noticed his hand wonder. the hand that he hadn't used to grip you was snaking its way inside your robe, brushing against your boobs and hardened nipples, before migrating all the way down to your cunt.

"f-foreplay? mid-flight?" and he chuckled, his eyes darkening with lust. "when did we think we were gonna do it?" and before you even has half the mind to answer, you felt two of his thick fingers press against your entrance, sliding inside.

he pumped inside you and your legs felt like pudding—half from the whole flying thing, and the other half from the fact he was fingering you mercilessly just like he knows you like. his palm is slapping against your clit and your legs tremble at every impact.

"w-when are we stopping?" and he paused for a second, before giving you that grin that tells you you're knees deep in this mess. "when you cum."

the simple sentence made a moan bloom from your chest, walls clenching down on his fingers. "y'wanna cum for me, baby?" you nod, "yeah? yeah? wanna give me one before the real thing?" and his dirty talking is throwing you off the edge, white droplets of cream dribbling down to his hand as she moaned his name as loud as she could. who cares? they're in the sky.

finally, the movement comes to an alt. they stop flying, stop moving.

you're still delirious, but smiling victoriously when he undoes his robes, hard cock revealing itself for you.

you salivate and bite your lip, feeling his dick rub against your sticky folds, jumping a bit when his mushroom top bumps into your clit. "this is so..." he trails off and you finish, "filthy?" and he hums while nodding, eyes closing while he loses himself at the sensation of your wet pussy.

finally, finally, he starts pushing himself in. it's scary and surreal, the thought of fucking in mid air turning you on more than it should. you love how you can see the birds flying next to you guys and feel his big veins hitting all the right spots inside you. he's so focused, focused on not letting you fall, focused on not being too rough, focused on making you feel good.

and fuck, the adrenaline rush heightened your senses and you could feel every fucking thing.

the way his vein bulged everytime you moaned in his ear, how tightly he was holding onto you, the cold breeze caressing you exposed skin, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against you..

you were close. dangerously close.

your own hand snaked down between your legs and you rubbed your clit softly, making yourself twitch in pleasure. "f-fuck, clark!" your voice got louder and louder with every string of sweet sounds getting pulled out of between your plush lips and he couldn't get enough.

your orgasm hit you like a train.

the adrenaline and stress of falling made everything feel ten times more intense, your walls clenching rapidly around him. cream started dribbling down your hole, forming a ring around his girthy base. "oh my fucking-" was really all you could coherently say in such a situation, every other word melting with eachother.

"baby- baby, shit- yes-" you had the man of steel stuttering and drooling, the sensation of your mushy walls clamping down on him too much for the poor man. he quickly let himself go, his cum coating your insides in a thick, white and milky layer.

he gasped, breath hitching when he felt the warmth of his cum fill you up. he pulled out slowly, your name slipping out of his mouth, while still catching his breath.

the flight back home was full of panting and quick dirty jokes you threw at him to fluster him.

bonus : bruce wayne noticed superman flying up in the sky.. up.. and up... and then stopping? wait.. he's with someone.. what are those movements–oh. they're fucking. this is officially none of his business anymore.

“Someday there’ll be a celebration throughout Oz that’s all to do with me.” 💔

what? oh nothing just thinking about how peter parker is a BREEDER. like itsv movies have him wanting and having kids and then in insomniac’s spiderman, he tapped it without a condom and thought he could’ve accidentally become a father. this man fucks.

Easter falling on 4/20 again this year means all those old 420 praise it vines from 2014 are once again relevant

BILL SKARSGÅRD Hemlock Grove 1.01 "Jellyfish in the Sky"

This poster just screams, "He asked for no pickles."