warnings - 18+ minors dni, explicit sexual content + dark themes, masturbation, breeding kink, pregnancy fetish, blood kink / hes aroused by blood lol, stalking, mild objectification. slight ooc cause he talks at the end :(.
5 sfw + 5 nsfw headcanons
ultraman who… melts into literal putty when you style his hair, his eyes rolling back as your fingers work through the coarse and brittle curls, transforming them into softer waves— he’ll press his face into your palms and sniff the hand cream you use, quietly letting out a few hums and whimpers. he’s nuzzling into your touch like he’s trying to crawl inside your skin where it’s warm and nobody can hurt him, neither lex or superman. just warm and comforting, you.
ultraman who… definitely tilts his head like a dog whenever you speak, listening to every change and tremble held inside the sound. he’s so used to the short prompts of attack moves lex says, frustrated that your voice makes him weak in the worst ways.
ultraman who… has sensory overload issues. and your solution, a weighted blanket. one day, after a severely bad attack, you wrapped the blanket around his shoulders to ground him. days later, when you aren’t around, luthor finds him cramped up in his cell desperately trying to replicate the feeling of safety you give him, but it doesn’t work without you there :((..
ultraman who… doesn’t know how to ask for affection, so his way of seeking it or physically demanding it, is crawling up to your feet and leaning his massive frame on you, cuddling closer until his head rests on your lap and he takes a BIGG whiff, he one hundred percent has a weird obsession with your scent. completely drunk on the proximity.
ultraman who… doesn’t understand the concept of dating or romance, but his primal, yet, flawed kryptonian dna understands territory. he will deliberately smother his face into your neck, rubbing his scent onto your skin.
ultraman who… whenever enters a store, he wanders into the baby section every time you take him, his fingers delicately rolling rattles and squeezing onto the plush toys with this aching look on his eyes. his broken biology screams to be a father, protector and more specifically, a breeder. he passes by the milk formula and salivates, already missing the feeling of your tits in his hand. he’s thinking about putting a baby in you instead so they grow plumper, rounding out.
ultraman who… gets boners from murdering.. since whenever he kills for lex, he’s developed this unhealthy relationship with it. killing or completing a mission = praise and appreciation. his brain has wired these things to pleasure and stimulation. conditioned it to.
ultraman who… keeps your soiled panties hidden in his cell like a prized possession, the musk of your dried arousal making him drool and rut against the thin mattress, huffing it into his lungs.
ultraman who… can literally smell when you’re ovulating, his head snapping up from across the room, nostrils flaring. especially if this happens during a mission debriefing, his breathing deepens and he clenches his hand to stop himself from sliding across the room and onto his knees taking you in.
ultraman who… gets obsessed with your lower belly, with the idea of it swelling, rounding, and growing heavy with his own baby. he’ll press his ear there after he comes inside you, listening like he can already hear the pregnancy. and you swear, you hear him softly murmur, “gonna be such a good mommy..”
