LANDESKOG OH MY GOD I THIKK I JUST BLACKED OUT FROM JOY. IM NAMING MY FUTURE CHILDREN, CATS, EVERYTHING

american pope is like an ethel cain album name

"but i'm still me, he's still joel, and we-- and nothing's ever gonna change that. ever."

└ mikko in the handshake line with some old friends | round one, game seven: col vs. dal | 5.3.25

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.”

thinkin about how BUCKY BARNES would use that metal hand on you in so many ways. fingering you to overstimulation with those cool, metal digits. those nipples hardening under the cold touch when his fingers meet them. that hand wrapping around your throat hard enough only to feel your pulse. lord save me i need him so bad ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

WONKA

𓂃 ࣪˖༉‧₊˚.

WILLY WONKA

chocolate maker — NSFW one shot.

early relationship — drabble, fluff.

we need eve and alien!reader smut so baddd ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

CW. NSFW, yandere!reader, wlw, aggressive oral, overstimulation, choking.

The room was dim, lit only by the soft hum of ambient light filtering through the clouds outside the window. You sat perched on the bed like a queen, long limbs sprawled in lazy confidence, watching Eve pace the room with that signature scowl and arms crossed like she was trying to hold herself together.

She was frustrated. Again.

“You don’t listen to anyone,” Eve snapped, stopping mid-step, pink eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t understand boundaries. You—!”

You tilted your head slowly, like you always did when she got like this. Curious. Patient. Just a little amused.

“You angry?” you asked, voice smooth and low, like honey poured over a blade. “You want me... far?”

Eve froze, eyes narrowing, face flushing. “Don’t twist this! I’m serious!”

You rose to your feet in one fluid motion, the fabric of your loose shirt falling off one shoulder. Eve's breath caught. You closed the space between you slowly, hips swaying in that inhuman, seductive grace that made everything feel like a hunt.

“Eve...” you purred, circling her. “Why you always red when I close?”

“I’m not red!” she protested, but her voice cracked halfway through. “I’m just—!”

You slipped behind her, arms curling gently around her waist, pulling her back into your chest. Your lips brushed the shell of her ear as you whispered, “Liar.”

Eve shivered.

You moved one hand up to rest over her heart, the other trailing down her waist. Her breathing hitched.

“You say no,” you whispered, “but body says yes.”

“I—” Her voice was breathless now. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You want I stop?” you murmured, voice all velvet and smoke.

Silence.

Then a weak, “No.”

A smirk spread across your lips. You turned her around and kissed her—slow at first, tasting her hesitation, then deeper, hungrier, tongue pushing past her lips with a kind of wild, invasive passion. She whimpered into your mouth, knees nearly giving out as you held her steady. You pulled back just enough to whisper:

“You soft. Sweet. I don’t want stop touching you, Eve.”

Her hands fisted in your shirt.

“Then don’t,” she whispered, eyes glazed, lips parted.

“You mine?”

She didn’t answer at first.

Then she mumbled, “Yeah... I’m yours, alien freak.”

You grinned like a predator, kissed her cheek, and curled protectively around her.

Eve’s voice was long gone — shredded hours ago — leaving only those raw, cracked little sobs that couldn’t even form words anymore.

You were still perched on her face like some starved beast, hips grinding in frantic, wet circles, that inhuman snarl tearing from your throat every time she so much as twitched her swollen lips against your cunt.

"More," you growled, fangs bared, the muscles in your thighs trembling as you shoved her deeper, suffocating against the plush mound of your pussy. Your claws left crescent-shaped dents in the headboard as you forced yourself down harder — riding her face with violent, animalistic need. "Guh— deeper. Lick."

Eve’s hands clawed weakly at your thighs, her face a mess of slick and spit, red hair matted to her flushed, tear-streaked cheeks. She was trying to push, trying to get air — but you didn’t care. Your cunt clenched too tight around her tongue, throbbing as another gush spilled, messy and hot, all over her nose and chin.

Her eyes rolled, glazed and fluttering, lashes soaked. Her body jolted once under you, chest arching like she was going to pass out.

And fuck — that just made you grind down harder.

"Mine," you snarled, voice guttural now, pupils blown wide like some feral thing. Your hips slapped down with a brutal smack, smearing more of your slick against her face as you rode her mouth like a rutting animal. "I said— mine, Eve."

Your claws grabbed fistfuls of her hair, yanking her face tighter against your dripping core. Her nose bumped against your swollen clit just right, and your back arched with a sharp, broken cry — vision blurring at the edges as you squirted again, flooding her mouth.

Eve’s body convulsed. Hands went slack.

"Ohhh," you hissed, body trembling. "You're sleep now? Hahh— pretty Eve... so pathetic now…"

But you didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Your hips were moving on their own now, chasing that raw, desperate friction as your swollen folds ground against her mouth, her chin, her slack tongue. Each roll made filthy, wet squelches fill the room, slick pouring down her throat while she lay helpless, body twitching under you.

"Your place is right here." Your voice cracked into a dark, shuddering moan, drool dripping from your open mouth as you fucked her face like a woman possessed. "You're mine. No running away now."

Your hips stuttered. Vision went white.

And with one last violent slam of your pussy against her face, you came again — harder than before, screaming as your slick gushed out in thick spurts, soaking her completely.

The bed creaked. Your claws tore holes in the sheets.

And as you finally slumped forward, panting over her limp form, you growled softly into her ear — voice hoarse but smug:

"...Told you. You stay red when I'm close."

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

james: sneezes once

also james: “moony you have to name your firstborn after me. james jr deserves to live on.”

james potter the type to shrug of physical injuries (broken bones, broken rips, …), but act like it’s his last day on earth when a mild cold hits him

going on a date with bucky barnes and it all goes so nicely, so sweetly, so smoothly. you both had so much fun, chemistry and a good time. he's charming, witty and he keeps flirting and complimenting you at every chance he gets. he held your hand all night long, neither of you even noticed it, it just happened naturally, your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling and both of your hearts are at ease.. that's until the date comes to an end, it's time to pay and you ask him if he wants to go 50/50.

that would be the first time he lets go of your hand that night, it's unintentional just happened out of pure shock. "50... what.." the confusion on his face, you'd think he's an alien seeing earth the first time.

"you know.. 50/50.. we'll split the bill between us"

"split the bill?" he asks and you just nod, he'd blink at you, "50/50.. splitting the bill.. what is this about, i asked you on a date"

now it's your turn to be the alien seeing earth for the first time, "we are on a date, bucky. this is a date"

"no, it's not a date."

"it is a date"

"you're asking me to split the bill, this is not a date"

"oh my god sam was right, you can be such a drama queen." you laugh, he just stares at you, blankly. "it might've been a while since the last time you went on a date so let me break it down for you.. these days, people who go on dates split the bill, they go 50/50" you shrug, "it's normal"

"it's normal? you've done it before?"

you nod, "every date i've been on has been 50/50 yeah"

bucky nearly flips the table. bucky who spent all of his three dollars in the 1940's trying to win a teddybear for a girl he had a crush on, bucky who used to save up most of his income in an old shoe box underneath his bed so he can take his girl to a nice diner, bucky who went to the florist to get you a bouquet of roses and didn't even ask for the price just handed his credit card because to him your smile is priceless, bucky is about to have a stroke.

"you've never been on a date" he says, face still blank.

"yes i have"

"no you haven't. this is your first date." he says, "i'm your first time." he smirks and you blush at the possible implication. "50/50.." he scoffs under his breath, "what else are you gonna tell me next? i should walk on the inside of the sidewalk? keep my jacket on when you're cold? sleep further from the door? not open doors for you? jesus sweetheart what has the world come to?"

you hide your smile, you love it when he rambles like that, he's so calm yet so offended all at once somehow, it's funny and endearing. "what's wrong with walking on the inside of the sidewalk?" you joke and he rolls his eyes making you laugh, "so.. no 50/50? are you sure?" you ask one last time, hands on your purse on your lap.

he keeps his eyes on you as he pays the bill, glaring playfully, gets up and pulls out your chair before putting his black leather jacket on your shoulders, "no doll," he offers you his hand which you quickly hold, intertwining your fingers with his, and opens the door with his metal hand, "no 50/50."