#nonnies ୭ 🧁 ✧ ˚. 🎀

[glossykissies]

scott when babygirl!reader can't come out of her subspace,,,and he needs her to be a "big girl"

it was scott’s fault.

he was the one that fucked you through the morning into the afternoon, broke you down into the finest components of your very being until you were uncontrollably crying after cumming, your fellow ‘coworker’ having to bathe you and baby you back into a mellow subspace where you were a lot more at peace. you take heavy breaths with your head on his chest as you watch your show. you suck his thumb. you wear his tshirt. you don’t want him to move, ever.

but he has to — and he knows it’s gonna be hell. he went to take a call in the hallway which was already a nightmare, hearing your whimper from the living room when he was gone for more than three minutes and eventually the padding of your socks on sleek wooden floors to find him, tugging at his clothes to get him to come back to you. he feels awful when he places both hands on your shoulders after hanging up, staring down at you.

“hey, i need you to focus up okay?” he croons and you blink, lashes still all wet and sticky and clearly not a thought behind those eyes. he sighs, pressing his lips together.

“mad at me.” comes the smallest voice and he shakes his head, pressing more weight into his hands on your shoulders as if in attempts to ground you harder.

“no. not mad at you, just need you to listen.”

you nod, which is good enough for him.

“my boss has called me in. i know it’s a sunday, but he’s — look, he’s fucking pissed. bunch of reporters got ahold of our research before we’ve been able to verify everything and i gotta go down there n’do some damage control. you can stay here, long as you like — okay, but i can’t be here.” he tries to make it as clear as possible, but your eyes are hazy again and you’re pulling him back toward the couch. “baby.” he warns, and once realising that the nickname might be counter productive he clears his throat and calls you by your name.

you stop, turning to him in confusion like it was the first time you’d ever heard him call you by your birth name and he shifts sympathetically albeit uncomfortably impatiently on his heels.

“i have to go.” scott presses his hands together.

“no.” you whimper, shaking your head with a reaching hand, fingers craving his touch. he places a hand over yours and lowers it, raising his eyebrows seriously.

“yes. i will be back later.” his eyes start to look around, and he’s searching for something that’s not you — shoes, he needs shoes to leave. your breathing picks up, stuttering like you’re going to cry and he marches over to you, taking your face in his hands, visibly stressed but using his last strings of delicacy to practice gentleness with you whilst you’re in such a sensitive state. “i need you… to be a big girl for a little bit. can you?”

the urgency in his tone breaks through something in you and you find yourself nodding, shrinking a little like you were ashamed of your previous behaviour. he senses this, and strokes your cheek before walking you back to the couch, seating you and strewing the blanket over you as if to barricade you.

“you know where the food is. stay until im home if you want. like i said — i’ll be back.” he orders, brushing about as he shoves one shoe on, then another before grabbing his keys as you watch with big watery eyes.

he goes to briskly march off, but stops abruptly at the doorway as if remembering that it’s polite to say goodbye. scott swings his keys around his finger and catches it in thought before pointing at you briefly.

“make me proud. okay? big girl.”

with that, he’s gone — leaving you to melt into the blanket.

[glossykissies]

Could we get clark Kent as munch please 🙏

“i know baby, come on in.” clark coo’s as he all but sheepdogs you into his bedroom, parents away for an event in metropolis. “oop, this way.” he redirects your step as you nearly walk into the wall, crying into your hands.

once he has you sat on his lap at the edge of his bed, jogging his leg just a little to comfort you — he speaks again. “that was uh…real scary, huh?” he comforts to the best of his ability, but his brain was reeling. everything was at stake here, and in the mean time you’d been pretty much traumatised.

you’d witnessed him battling it out with a man made of fire, watched your beloved boyfriend throw a bus out the way with his bare hands and successfully derailed a maniac from tearing up the town. you had to know something was up, but in attempts to save you of getting yourself involved in something way out of your depth — clark knew he had to distract you. rewire your mind on how this whole night went down.

so he lets you cry it out, rocking you on his lap until you’d calmed. he explained that he was okay, and that what you saw wasn’t what you thought — and once that was out of the way, well — along came the distraction part.

you swear you were shaken up just a moment ago, but suddenly he’s shushing you and nodding sympathetically as he slides a plush pillow beneath your lower back, elevating your hips.

your voice is worn from crying so the little whimper that leaves you is raspy and defeated when he slides your bare thighs open, thumbing at your little throbbing clit. “mhm?” he glances up at you honestly, any word you utter out losing form and turning into a slurred babble that he responds to anyway.

“gonna fix you right up, okay? you’ll feel better.” his warm familiar breath draws close to your hip bones and you shudder, feeling your body start to relax, your fists start to loosen, your eyes start to flutter closed. “there you go! knew you could relax.” he whispers encouragingly, before taking a languid lick up the length of your pussy, stopping to swirl around your clit.

“ohhhh—” you tremble, widening your legs.

“hmmm.” he responds, thumbs sliding up to your folds and spreading them to reveal more of you, lips red and wet from your arousal as he all but makes out with your cunt.

it feels almost too good, and you tense — sitting up ever so slightly with furrowed brows, but as calm and confidently as you know clark to be, his hand slides up your body to gently ease you back down, bicep swelling and refusing totally to remove his mouth from you. all of sudden, you barely remember what the issue was that got you so worked up — all you could think of was your loving boyfriend, clark kent.

[glossykissies]

that scene where soldier boy tells hughie he made up the word bluetooth got me thinking how funny it would be when he hears newer slang 😭😭 i wanna tell him we’d have good bed chem and watch literal question marks form in his eyes

“well fuck me, you new-generation girls are really something.” ben chuckles to himself like it’s nothing as he rolls off you, instantly reaching for a cigar, a hand leisurely coming up to rest behind his head. “fuck of a lifetime, i’ll tell you that much. you alright there?” he’s cocky, glancing over at where you’re laying in fetal position with his hot seed still leaking from your quivering folds. he just put you through the mattress (very nearly literally) and now he’s cracking jokes. you needed a minute.

“mhm.” it comes out breathy, jolting a little from sensitivity when he gives your ass a rewarding pat.

“mm. well catch your breath and then roll over. i may be super-human, but i still like guy stuff just like everyone else. i want cuddles and shit.” it sounded comedic coming from his ultra deep voice, the older man taking a drag of his cigar thoughtfully in a way that told you he was dead serious.

you do as your told, a dumb smile on your face as you do so, snuggling up to his side happily. he presses a chaste kiss to the top of your head as praise.

“i like this. we just work.” he comments to the ceiling and your tummy fizzes up. you felt special.

“yeah. we have good bed chem.” you slur, still coming down, biting your lip in amusement when you see his eyebrow raise.

“we have good who-now what?” he turns his head a little to gaze into your hazy eyes and you burst into a fit of giggles.

“bed chem!” you lilt, poking his rib cage. he takes another drag with a frown, eyeing you over.

“you do know that saying it twice isn’t gonna make me understand, right?” he deadpans, but you can tell he’s humouring you. you sigh good-naturedly.

“bed chemistry. bed chem. like we just work. we fit together well.” you explain to the best of your ability, distracted by drawing shapes on his broad chest. he continues to stare.

“and that’s a real thing that people say?”

“well girls do.” you shrug, glancing up into his confused eyes. he shakes his head dismissively.

“i don’t get all this slang shit.” he complains, before his eyes drift back over to you. “its only cute when you do it. don’t tell anyone i said that.”

[glossykissies]

thinking about Scott with a sensitive girl who runs away before she cums, saying it’s too much

LOVE YOUUU

he wouldn’t show it, but he loved when you got like this. all non coherent and pliant in his arms, hell— it’s the only time you’d drop the bratty little princess act and let him do what he needs to do. it brought him comfort to know that for the next few hours at least, you’d be a very good girl. orgasms did that to you.

but bless your heart, you were just so sensitive. he wasn’t even fucking you, sitting up by your side on the bed, still in his work clothes as you’re sprawled totally naked with his fingers knuckle deep inside your cunt. he’s got a large hand on your lower stomach, keeping you still.

“there you go, hey — you begged for this, don’t run now.” he chides, tsking when you squeal and buck your hips when he grinds his finger tips against that sensitive spot inside you that always made you feel like you were going to explode.

“jus’— jus’ wait scotty i’m— it’s too—” you’re slurring like you’re drunk, toes curling into the duvet, clenching your ass to push away from his fingers. he holds you down harder.

“no, no. take it. you were all on me the second i got home. you’re gonna cum on my fingers and behave.” he orders, that strict work personality still very much intact. in his defence, you hadn’t given him the opportunity to relax out of that mode yet. shit, he was still wearing his cap.

“d—dad!” you bat at his hand and he pins it to the bed.

“what’d i say? hm? c’mon baby. cum for dad. m’waiting.”

you succumb to it, and he physically can feel it — clamping hard around his digits and the muscles in your stomach spasming as you lose your breath— still using what little power you had in you to squirm. he has his tongue between his lips in concentration, glare flickering between you and that sloppy pussy.

“yeah. i know. that’s good. that’s fucking good baby. god damn, so sensitive.”

[glossykissies]

i’d lovveeeee to see scotty when he’s being a hard dom!!!

he didn’t even throw you over his lap. that was too close. too intimate.

you were laying face down on the bed, the only physically touch you could latch onto being his big warm hand on your back to stop you from squirming — but it wasn’t rubbing, wasn’t gently tapping like he does absentmindedly when the two of you are watching some boring science show that he puts on the tv. he was restraining you so you couldn’t run from his harsh spanks.

“got yourself in this mess, no use cryin’ now sweetheart.” he shrugs, jiggling the ass cheek that he’d just abused in his hand like it was his own personal toy.

“it hurts!” you whine, still the slightest lilt of attitude in your tone that he really didn’t appreciate.

“oh it does? good.” he couldn’t even feign sympathy, not after the behaviour you’d been exhibiting since he got home from work.

“da—” you go to complain and he cuts you off with another hard strike to your ass, leaving you writhing on the bed.

“better if you don’t speak, baby.”

[glossykissies]

scottys reaction to u wantin his babiezz :3

he always has to be the wise one because he’s a little older than you, bigger than you, smarter than you. it had been a new obsession of yours, probably the product of a few pregnancy videos making its way onto your for you page on tiktok or seeing a tiny pink knitted cardigan fit for a newborn at the thrift store that had set you off — suddenly making it your life’s mission to get impregnated by scott.

but that’s just what it was, a little mission. a phase. he was convinced you liked to push the boundary with him because you were spoiled and wanted to see just how far he’d go to give you what you want. he knew damn well you couldn’t handle a baby right now. you just wanted to be creampied.

he’s barely got his jacket off once he’s through the door to your shared apartment, your needy hands pulling at his clothes all whiny and pouty.

“dont start.” he warns, which to your ears means — go.

“wan’a baby. want your babies.” you slur, voice thick and mewly with need from waiting around for him all day. you really needed to get some new hobbies.

“what’d i say, huh?” he entertains the conversation, large veiny hands skilfully undoing his thick black belt to hopefully subdue your whinging, showing you that he’s somewhat going to give you what you’re pleading for, some dick.

“you don’t get it scotty, i’d look so cute pregnant!” you’re honestly getting a little teary, and when you work yourself up like this — it often means you need him to step up and be firm with you to a) put you in your place, and b) give you that emotional release. it was a science. scott could do science.

he’s manhandling you effortlessly in an instant, not even really trying to rough-house you when he wraps a hand around your upper arm and turns you around, then grabbing at your waist to bend you over the same table he’d dropped his keys on. as he does so, he talks. “i don’t know how many times i need to tell you that you cannot handle a baby right now. you are a god damn baby.”

you let out a little sad cry and he does feel a little bad, crushing your dreams like that — but as soon as he yanks your panties down and you’re widening your stance a little to part your sticky folds, looking round at him curiously from where your cheek was pressed to the table, he forgets the feeling. “jesus. ‘you just sit around thinking about me knocking you up all day while i’m making us all the money?” he makes it sound like a complaint, but really his cock is pressing so hard against the black fabric of his cargos he thinks it could soon tear a hole.

“i do other stuff.” you use the last of your brain power to protest. he spreads your fat folds with his thumb and your knees buckle.

“is that right?”

“no.” you submit easily and he presses his lips together with a tight smile, shaking his head lightheartedly as he pulls his cock out.

“yeah, didn’t think so.”

[glossykissies]

maybe reader complaining about soldier boy smoking so he ties her up w a vibrator to her clit and smokes in front of her… 🤭 he’s so mean (we love it)

there wasn’t many things you hated, especially not when it came to soldier boy. you liked the things most people didn’t like about him — the fact he was ruthless, the fact he could be cold toward others, brutal. his character itself was perfect, and the more he was around you the happier you were.

what you couldn’t stand, was the smoking.

you get it, he comes from a different time before all the anti-smoking propaganda. he was mostly indestructible, so the health thing wasn’t exactly a concern— but he was getting too comfortable. smoking in your apartment, stinking up your pretty little living space — and that, you couldn’t do.

you come home from the bakery, baguette beneath your arm and a couple of moorish pastries bagged up in each fist ready to put away until you needed the snack — and there’s ben, staring pensively over the city, staring out your window, smoking.

“ben.” you pout, stopping your movements in putting away your purchases to lightly stomp your foot. “i told you.”

“told me what.” he hums, barely listening as he was clearly in deep thought. you huff, you hate when he got into these grumpy moods.

“you can’t just smoke in my apartment! atleast open a window.” you stomp over to the window beside him, pushing it open and staring at him pointedly. what you wanted to him to do, was chuck it out. but instead, he simply stares at you — taking a long drag. you purse your lips angrily, trying to think of another argument to make him speak atleast. “you know that’s bad for you.” you point your chin up, matter of factly. he reacts now, turning a little more toward you with a chuckle.

“for me? you do know i’m…” he taps a heavy fist over his lungs. “pretty indestructible, sweetheart.”

“okay, well have you considered that it’s bad for me? not everyone is a supe, you know.” you’re getting more and more hot and bothered by the fact he just won’t listen. he watches you before rolling his eyes up at the ceiling.

“you don’t seriously believe all that second-hand-smoke bullcrap, do you? god damn, what in the fuck are they teaching kids in school these days? school wasn’t that long ago for you now, was it?” his irritation turns to amusement as he smirks down at you cruelly, addressing the age gap between the two of you meanly.

“you’re being unfair.” you step closer, and he smiles, taking a drag before blowing a cloud of cigar smoke in your face.

“and what the hell are you gonna do about it, babyface?”

naturally, you throw a tantrum — and wind up right where you thought you might, on your bed with your legs spread. but your man isn’t between them, no. he’s pulling up a chair with a new cigar between his lips, having just finished tying you open on the bed, vibrator pressed firmly to your aching clit.

“now i’m not a bad guy, sweetheart.” he begins, voice rumbling deep making you clench around nothing. “am i? didn’t gag you, not yet anyway so you can fuckin’ respond when i speak.” he prompts, nodding to you before taking another long drag. the room is cloudy now, but not as cloudy as your brain.

“n—nuh—no!” you whine pathetically.

“too right. no. done a lot of bad things, sure. fucked up a loooot of people. but i’m not bad. not to you.” he pauses thoughtfully. another drag. you’re raw and aching and you just wanna cum but it’s just not enough. “so i think it’s fair… that i get to do whatever the fuck i want around here, and as long as i’m treating you like a pretty princess — you can’t tell me shit. does that sound fair to you?” he tilts his head, raising his eyebrows and you mewl. you want to say no. you don’t agree. but fuck, you loved him.

“yes!” you squeak.

“yes who?”

“yes sir.”

with that, he smiles slowly, reaching over and stubbing the cigar out on the ashtray he’d placed on your pretty pink dresser. standing, you finally see the length of him tenting his pants and you suddenly start feeling like maybe the little vibration he’s offered you is enough to make you cum, because you start throbbing.

ben cups your cheek, stroking a thumb over your forehead, then your cheek, and then tugs playfully at your bottom lip as you stare up, glassy eyed, whimpering and desperate. “sweet thing.” he tsks, giving in and kissing you.

he tastes like tobacco, and you don’t even mind.

[glossykissies]

I could see reader having a thing for sucking scott’s thumb! like in a self soothing kind of way. So if she’s being fussy and he needs to focus, he can just sit her on his lap, let her latch to his thumb and calm down while he works

you’d had such a bad day, you poor thing — crumbling onto scott’s lap the second you got home. from the headache you had that morning, to spilling your coffee all down your cute new top to being yelled at and humiliated by your boss — you were just about ready to call it quits.

scott had come home an hour before you and was working at his computer, now also home to you curled on his lap crying into his shoulder as his eyes graze the words on his screen.

“well what did your boss even say?” he drawls, always wanting to get down to the logical side of things.

“just— ugh it wasn’t even — it was the way he—” you push off his chest, stumbling over your words with a snotty nose and hot cheeks.

“breathe.” he glances at you in reminder and you oblige sucking in a shaky breath.

“ugh, i just can’t. i just wanna forget.” you sulk and he pushes your head back down to his chest— not only to comfort you in a way he knew how, but because you were slightly in his way.

“you just wanna forget.” he repeats, slightly distracted as he clicks ‘new email’ on his screen. he feels you nod, and lets you get comfy — snuggling down on his broad lap as he continues working. you sniffle, and he offers his comfort once more, his free hand naturally rising to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear sliding down. once he’s got that, his thumb lingers around your lips, pressing on the pudgier bottom one.

without thinking, you welcome his thumb inside— your breathing easing up just a little bit as you find comfort in the gesture. scott blinks out of his work-hazed daze before craning his head down to lock eyes with you the best he can.

“okay?” he asks quietly, in a gentle tone he reserves for you only.

“mmph.” you nod as a yes, bashfully sucking.

“whatever helps baby.” he yawns, pressing a kiss to your temple — happy to continue typing with one hand.

[glossykissies]

omggg just imagine soldier boy hunched over you driving into you at the speed of light pushing your thighs back so far with his supe strength you think you might knee yourself in the face

you keep crying for him whining daddy over and over again and he just tells you to “shut the fuck up” 🥲

you love when he gets all serious and concentrated, hands holding your legs up behind your knees, thick biceps tenses as he fucks you through the mattress with his brow frowned. its a moment where he seems… human. desperate for release, and knowing your clingy, slick walls are the only thing that can bring him that is a god-tier ego boost.

your brain is mush by this point, given that off principle soldier boy had fucked you through roughly three orgasms — making your convulsing hole so sloppy that strings of your release would string to his base each time he pulled out to thrust, and a wet slapping sound filled the room.

“mmph, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!” you cry, because it’s all you can cry when he’s holding you down and ruining you like that.

“yeah i know baby.” he husks, thinking it’ll hush you but you continue, whining and squealing with each time he fucks in, bed violently creaking.

“da—daddy!” you wail, and he grunts — lips pressed together as he forces you back open when you clench too hard.

“ease up.” he instructs in concentration, but you’re hysterical— grabbing wherever you can reach.

“da—” you’re silenced by a hand over your mouth as he rocks you harder into the bed, jaw clenched.

“shut the fuck up, would you?” he all but growls, eyes shutting as he works himself up to your release. at his meanness, you do too.

[glossykissies]

hi princess! this is my first time sending an ask so i apologize if i mess up but ive been reading all your scott fics and ive been thinking about how scott and kitty would interact. i feel like after a bit of banter he’d get fed up and put her in her place, thank you for feeding us!!

without realising, scott can be rather nonchalant — and that often causes you to act out, skulking around poking and prodding at him until he gives you something, not satisfied until he does.

you’d waited for him all day to get back from work, and once he was back — instead of dropping everything to spend time lounging around with you like you’d hoped, he’s opening up his laptop with that permanent frown of his, not even close to giving you the attention that you need.

you really did try to be patient at first, knowing there was a chance you’d be rewarded for being such a good girl — but it was hard, you were feeling extra needy and emotional, and the whole thing was making you feel neglected.

after an hour, the attitude starts to seep in, continually disturbing him from his work to annoy him, pressing at him with your clawed manicure and whining, kicking your feet into his leg before he’d swat your foot away distractedly, continuing to type.

“god, if you love work so much why don’t you just date your laptop instead of me.” you huff, storming off to the kitchen of scott’s apartment aimlessly where you’d sulk for another ten minutes before finally hearing his slow unbothered footsteps.

you keep your back to him, hoping to feel him wrap his arms around you or even just stroke your lower back as he passes like he does when he’s in a good mood, but instead you hear him busy himself with opening the cupboards to retrieve the ingredients for his coffee. you quietly huff out your nose, pout deepening as you pretend to have great interest in the marbling on the counter top.

“tantrums wont get very far with me, just saying.” scott speaks, and your eyes fill with irritated tears. you just wanted his attention.

“not having a tantrum.” you grit your teeth, refusing to look at him and you just know he shakes his head with an amused smile.

“alright. so that wasn’t you that just cussed me out and stormed off. got it.” he sarks, and you spin around.

“y— you’re being an asshole. did you come in here just to — just —”

“i’m making coffee.” he shrugs, interrupting you and his nonchalance causes you to lose your temper, striding over and lightly hitting his arm. it was pathetic, and you weren’t quite sure why you did it. he pours his drink, unwounded.

“ouch.”

“i hate you.” you clench your fists by your sides. scott’s jaw ticks, losing his patience now as he places his mug down and grapples you by the arm, turning your body so your back was to his chest, wrapping a thick arm over your neck and applying a light pressure.

“you hate me?” he asks firmly and you suck in a shaky breath, body instantly calming at the feeling of his warmth all whilst beginning to release your pent up emotion, a tear streaking the makeup beneath your eye.

“no.” your answer is fast and breathy and you feel him nod.

“say what you really mean.” he commands blankly, voice holding authority with such little effort.

“f—feel neglected.” you whisper, sharp nails lightly scratching at his forearm. he holds the headlock a little longer, letting you feel his chest moving up and down with his slow breathing against your back for a moment — maybe he knew you needed the contact despite his strictness.

“i am doing my work.” he lowers his tone and you whine, so he tightens his grip which tells you to shut up and listen. “you are going to go to the bedroom, and calm down. i don’t want to hear anymore fussing. alright?” you nod, and it’s enough for him to let go and pat you on the ass to scurry off.

you take a few steps before you turn to him, and his cold heart thaws at the sight of you — all upset, snotty, mouth turned down because you’re crying now. “how long?” you wail, and it’s so desperate, scott feels guilty for being so strict. he sighs out his nose, mouth in a straight line and he steps up to you to cup your jaw, making you let out a pathetic little hiccup-sob.

“look at me.” his deep voice rumbles and you force your sticky eyes upwards to him, where he brushes a firm thumb over your cheek. “i’m not gonna be long. go to the room, take some breaths. like i taught you.” he’s sincere, eyes boring into yours and you find yourself nodding, feeling a little more comforted by his demand being directed toward your wellbeing. “you’re okay. go.” he nods to the bedroom and you slide off, with only the urge to be his good girl for the rest of the day.

[glossykissies]

imagine being put on a leash by butcher hhhnnng

the groups attention is gained by the sound of your scuffled footsteps along side butchers heavy and certain ones, along with a clink of metal.

“no no no no, monsieur charcuter you cannot keep this poor girl on a leash!” frenchie hops out of his seat, striding desperately towards the two of you. butcher smirks, giving you a little tug so you fall into his side, happy enough.

“yeah uh, seriously we’re trying to teach her to be… normal? you probably shouldn’t—”

the younger man is interrupted by a hand in the air, butcher silencing the room to speak.

“its just so she don’t run off on us again like last time, unclench your arses will ya?” he sighs, like they’re the crazy ones for questioning him.

m.m steps up, arms folded over his chest and a disapproving eyebrow raise. “you do know she’s a supe right? that girl runs off on you whilst you’re holding her leash and she’s ripping that arm clean off. you want that?” he questions, and billy only tilts his head with that maddening smile.

“incorrect, son. our girl here’s got super speed, not strength.” he explains as he rounds the back of you to clamp two hands down on your shoulders as your tail bats against his thigh. “say she does do a runner on us,” he tugs on the leash around your neck. “s’taking her head clean off. you don’t want that poodle, do ya?” he cranes round to look at you.

“nope!” you chime and he huffs out a laugh.

“see?” he steps back, ruffling your head. “you cunts are forgetting how loyal dogs are.”

still being referred to as a ‘dog’ by butcher did sting a little and you didn’t know why, especially as you looked mostly like a regular girl aside from a few key differences. this is why at the end of the day, you thought it would be best to show him how much of a woman you really are.

of course, you still ended up with the leash around your neck when you were naked, getting bounced on butchers cock.

“there you go girl, there you fuckin’ go. didn’t know you were such a dirty little pup, gettin’ off on me leashing ya. i shoulda known, saw that look in y’eye when i clipped it on ya. should’a guessed it would get you all worked up.” he pants as he grips your hip, lifting his own to fuck you on his lap.

“just— just wanted to be good for you today!” you squeal, clawing at his chest which makes him wince, tugging your leash closer so your face was right in front of his.

“you were very, very fuckin good. that what you wanted to hear pup? that gonna make you cream for me?”

butcher knew you too well.

[glossykissies]

https://x.com/MANGAIES/status/1860925497472962626?t=7fQ9OUyU-wpKdXp_RSbYug&s=19

wpuld you write this with frank castle or ben pretty please 🥹🩷

you feel so exposed, and it’s conflicting. how was this fair? you have to be totally naked from the waist down on the bed, ass arched in the air with every hole on display — whilst frank gets to kneel leisurely behind you, still dressed head to toe in his black get-up.

you mewl, feeling your juices leak out of you as he thumbs at your hip soothingly, watching the way you squirm. wanting, no — needing him to take action, you turn your cheek on the mattress, giving him your sweetest most pleading look.

“yeah,” he dismisses, barely ripping his eyes away from your holes to glance at you. “just wanna get a look at you, yeah?” his voice is husky and you’re sure he sees you clench around nothing — which sends a tingly wave of embarrassment up your spine. you’d decided viewing time was over.

reaching back, you try to stretch your arm so your hand can cover your indecency, going to wiggle out of his gaze. “stop lookin’.” you whine sulkily as he watches your attempts for a moment before effortlessly gripping your wrist and pinning it to the small of your back. he wasn’t rough, just firm enough to keep it out the way.

“nah, nah. you shy now, huh?” finally, he yields, beginning to lower himself a little to be eye level with your cunt. “dont need you goin’ shy on me, beautiful. ain’t no need for all that fussin’.” his hot breath is on your most sensitive part now and you buckle, nearly dropping your arched pose.

just when you think he’s going to swipe his tongue through your sopping folds, his breath warms a higher spot, somewhere equally as sensitive yet… different.

gasping, you feel him slide his tongue over your most sacred hole, your puckered ass contracting around nothing as he holds your ass cheeks open with one hand, practically making out with your asshole.

“fr— frankie!” you cry, but it feels so good and unique that you can’t seem to open your eyes to send him another one of your famous looks. he simply grunts out a hum in response, silencing you with two thick fingers sliding into your cunt.

your knees slide, slowly falling flat on the mattress but he shocks you with a harsh slap on the ass cheek before effortlessly pulling at your knees to prop you back up. “you keep that up for me, girl. you got it.”

in a moment like this, you just can’t bring yourself to disobey him.

[glossykissies]

going anywhere with frank and noticing how suddenly no man bothers you ever cause of how scary he is......I need to give him head in a dressing room because of how sexy he is

frank didn’t love being out in public, showing his face and all given the work he was in. but you were his weakness, and with everything he underwent in the darker period of his life, he felt he atleast owed you normalcy.

so he’d come shopping with you. oddly enough, it didn’t take much convincing — as soon as you’d mentioned in one of your rambles how you would get annoyed with all the ‘weird men’ staring you down when you’d shop, frank was game to tag along so he could make sure you were safe. your safety was always his top priority after all.

you could tell he was not focused on the contents of your shopping trip for the entirety of the day, instead surveying over the store slowly with a hawks eye, staring down any man who looked a wee bit suspicious, or so much as glanced your way. for the most part you were none the wiser, skipping along, clutching his arm and handing him shopping bags, the man offering you no more than a ‘mhm, looks good sweetheart.” when you’d hold up a piece of clothing for his advise.

once you noticed that he was all but protecting you like a security guard, a fire was lit inside you, causing you to feel so warm and protected it made you just want to serve him.

“wanna try somethin’ on, okay frank?” you hum pleasantly, grabbing a random top off the sale rack and dragging him toward the changing rooms.

“yeah.” he clears his throat, ushering in behind you, his body already crowding you in the small cubicle space. for some reason, you’d assumed he’d caught on by now — so you were the surprised one when you eagerly started undoing his belt with a sweet grin and he’d grabbed your wrist. “heyhey, what’s going on, huh? we’re in public honey.” he rasps and you go all doe eyed in shame, a look he can’t resist.

“you’ve been looking after me all day, i realised you’ve been protecting me.” you explain, the dark haired man shuffling on his feet in light amusement. he huffs out a smirk, not wanting to chuckle at your excitement and embarrass you for feeling your feelings. frank was big on that.

“well, yeah sweetie s’what i do, ain’t it?” he thumbs at your cheekbone and the delicate skin below your eye. it makes your lashes flutter.

“mhm, so—” you swallow, gathering yourself. it seemed all the saliva had prematurely flooded to your mouth in preparation. “so i want to show you my appreciation. with my mouth.” you look so innocent yet mischievous staring up at him and he stuffs his tongue in his cheek, tilting his head down at you adoringly.

“yeah? right here baby?” he lowers his voice and you feel a shudder tremor through you.

“yes, frank.” you sigh as he pinches your chin and pulls your lips towards him to drop a smiley kiss.

“frank?” he hums softly against you as you suck in a breath. he mouth at your jaw.

“sir.” you whisper, shy — like anyone could hear.

“atta girl. on your knees yeah sweetheart? ‘let you get it outta your system.”

frank just loved to spoil you.

[glossykissies]

i would love to know more about the mean! linecook!scott au, like how did you first meet him?

so i’m thinking classic sunshine x grumpy trope, scott is the head linecook but also pretty much runs that kitchen like the military because he thinks everyone else is too incompetent to do so. he sees you bumbling in as the new girl, all excitable like a puppy and clumsy on your feet and thinks great, just another person i need to accustom to the ways of my kitchen. she is pretty cute, but that’s besides the point.

you even try and make it a point to introduce yourself to him, nearly walking smack bang into his chest as he towers over you, staring at you analytically as he snaps his gum at the back of his teeth. your manager said no gum was allowed in the kitchen, but you guess this scott guy does what he wants.

“oh! nearly ran into you, i’m sorry!” you grin, holding your hand out for him to shake. he stares at it, then back at you as you happily introduce yourself retracting your hand. “i’m new here if you hadn’t noticed. pretty nervous but everyone seems really nice so far, i’m kind of a people person so i think chatting to customers will be fun to be honest. i know people say you get bored of doing that kind of thing but i’ve always liked it. i’m a yapper. it’s kind of my thing! you’re not talking.” you cut your ramble short with a nervous swallow and he slowly raises his hand, placing it on your arm and gently moving you to the side.

“you’re in front of my work station.” he responds bluntly and your face falls a little.

“right! that’s my bad.” you nod, and surprisingly he turns his huge body to face you. seriously, he was so tall he made the kitchen feel smaller. scott digs in his back pocket for a moment before pulling out a small, seemingly new notepad with a pen wedged into the side and presses it firmly into your palm.

“this is yours. waitresses are meant to bring their own but i know you didn’t. you lose it, you gotta remember everyone’s orders. we don’t do taking orders on your phones notes app, it looks juvenile. so don’t lose it. on fridays we serve hot plates so wear long sleeves, you’ll be carrying a lot on your arms and you don’t wanna burn yourself. you drop those plates because they are hot, i’ll be pissed. when you come into the kitchen you walk straight through behind whoever is infront of you to the designated station, you take the food and then walk around the back and out that door. you hang around, or reverse back on yourself you could walk into someone and drop the plate. won’t be happy about that. you drop something, you clear it up. you spill something, you wipe it up — and if someone out there yells at you…” he pauses finally, softening his firm tone only a tiny bit. “you tell me. alright?” he starts chewing again, raising his eyebrows impatiently for you to respond.

“yes sir. i mean, just— yes.”

“good. go sign in.” he nods his head dismissively, turning back to his station and you scurry off to mark yourself as present on the register.

“that scott guy is scary. i think he hates me.” you whisper to an older waitress, a girl around 10 years your senior who’d been working at the restaurant for a while. she scoffs, a look on her face like she knows something that you don’t.

“s’the most we’ve ever seen scotty-boy talk. he likes you.” she reassures before striding off to work. you turn your head, twiddling your new pen in hand as you go to look at him, and he’s already barking orders at his team. wouldn’t hurt to get on his good side.

[glossykissies]

how would butcher react to puppy reader peeing all over him? whether it be out of fear or excitement to see him

i think something really scary and gory would happen and it would trigger her trauma from the lab real bad and she’d just pee all on butcher :(

“oh fuckin’ ell. alright alright alright—” he’s the first to jump into action, lifting you under your arms with a careful expression. “hughie mate, help her would ya?” he gestures desperately to the tall brunette who flails in helpfully.

“help her? i— sorry i’m not really sure how i’m meant to—”

you whimper, all upset, trembling in fear and humiliation. back in the lab, if you pissed — they’d hurt you. your body expected the same here.

“oi, alright. settle down yeah? not gonna hurt ya, poodle. y’not in trouble. piss ain’t the worst thing i’ve been covered in, trust me. let’s get away from these unhelpful pricks, yeah?” he scratches his beard before welcoming you under his arm, guiding you away from everyone.

[glossykissies]

This one thoughts has plagued my mind for days. Clark Kent taking his girlfriend home after a party where she had a little too much to drink. Him carrying her into her house, shushing her while she clings to him and giggles just loud enough that her parents might wake up. Him getting her ready for bed, helping her wash her face, change into her matching set of pink pj’s, and then laying her down to tuck her in. She’s all fussy and needy, begging him to stay with her. He tells her he can’t, and reminds her to be quiet again because her parents are still sleeping down the hall. She whips out the glazed over doe eyes, slurring her words she asks him to “put her to sleep”. Clark feeling conflicted, because on one hand he doesn’t want to take advantage of his sweet girl in her intoxicated state, doesn’t want her to have regrets when she sobers up the next day. On the other, he’s always had trouble saying no to her, and the way she’s looking at him makes his heart ache. She whines and begs for him, louder with each plead. He cups her cheeks, shushes her yet again, tries to explain to her that he can’t give her what she wants, not tonight. But she always gets what she wants, so she pouts up at him and whines “Just one finger”… and Clark Kent can never say no to his sweet girl.

yoooooo !!!!!!! ૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა a step further, i think he’d even make u do the work, lets you have one thick finger but you have to bounce on it yourself — he can’t be held accountable for this !!! you get sooooo worked up, all sleepy and on the verge of tears just wanting to cum and he’s just shushing you all sympathetic, cooing at you that “you can have it properly tomorrow, okay?”