( đđđđđđđđ ) benjamin poindexter x black cat!reader. scratching , reader has claws , mention of blood , unprotected sex :p thatâs kinda it, other than sex obviously. đŠđąđ§đšđ«đŹ đđš đ§đšđ đąđ§đđđ«đđđ.
Dex is everywhereâhis weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath hot against your throat, his cock buried so deep inside you that you can feel him pulsing with every ragged inhale. His hips roll into you with a rhythm thatâs almost cruel, each thrust forcing a gasp from your lips, your back arching off the bed like youâre trying to escapeâor maybe just take more.
âThat feel good?â His voice is a low murmur, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his hand slides from your waist to your thigh, hooking your leg over his hip. The angle changes, and fuckâhis cock sinks even deeper, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and your claws itch to come out and play.
âYeah,â you breathe, but itâs not enough. Not nearly enough. Your fingers tangle in his hair, yanking hard enough to make his scalp prickle, before they slide down to his backâbroad, muscular, begging for it. His skin is slick with sweat, the perfect surface for your claws to dig in.
And then his free hand finds your clit.
His thumb is rough, calloused, and he doesnât teaseâhe attacks. Circles, pressure, the perfect amount of friction to send sparks shooting through your nerves. Your body tenses, your breath hitching as pleasure coils tight in your gut. Youâre so close, and the way heâs fucking youâhard, relentless, like heâs trying to brand you from the inside outâonly makes it worse.
His thumb flicks, just right, and the dam breaks.
Your claws snap out, sharp and eager, and you rake them down his back without warning. The burn is immediate, searing lines of fire blooming across his skin. Dex hisses, his body jerking forward, his cock twitching inside you as the pain shoots straight to his dick. âFuckâJesus fuckââ His voice is a groan, half-pleasure, half-pain, and you can feel the way his cock hardens even more, like the burn is the best fucking aphrodisiac heâs ever had.
His hips stutter, his thrusts turning erratic as he chases his own release. âAgain,â he demands, his voice rough. âDo it again.â And you do, because you love the way his body reactsâthe way his muscles tense under your nails, the way his breath hitches, the way his cock throbs inside you like itâs begging for more.
You drag your sharp nails down his back again, deeper this time, and Dex groans, his hips snapping forward as he bottoms out inside you. His tip nudges that spot, the one that makes your vision whiten and your body clench around him like a vice. You come hard, your claws digging in as your orgasm rips through you, your walls milking his cock as you ride out the waves of pleasure.
Dex isnât far behind. His breath is ragged, his body trembling as he slams into you one last time, his release spilling inside you with a groan that sounds like itâs been torn from his throat. He collapses on top of you, his skin slick with sweat and a bit of blood, his cock still twitching as the aftershocks hit.
âFuck,â he pants against your neck, his voice thick with satisfaction. âYou ruin me.â
i really really wanna write one loooooooong dex oneshot with vigilante!reader - enemies to lovers and some action and smut obviously. it's been on my mind for such a long time now but i feel like ppl don't like vigilante reader as much <\3 lemme know anyone!
YES YES YES YES FRANK WITH TALL!FEM!READER because Iâm 5â10 so in my mind frank has to be like 6â2 at least đ I think about this ALL. THE. TIME. ainât none of this tiny, okay? Iâm built like Hannah Waddingham, Iâm a Large Woman.
NowâŠ. Donât get me wrong. I HAVE met men who can toss me around. Theyâre rare! But they exist. Still itâs jarring, itâs alarming to be picked up when youâre my size. I havenât been picked up in a very long time, so when it happens itâs a little frightening LOL
But even at Franks size heâs not carrying me home for 2 miles unless heâs like fireman carrying me over his back, ok? He could probably carry me bridal up the stairs though..
Built like Hannah Waddingham???? GOT DAMN THATS FINE. Frank would have a fucking STROKE if he met you/reader LOL.
This is all SO GOOD to know and keep in mind (for someone thatâs equivalent to a fucking bean pole đđ we ainât go NO curves here LMAO).
I always write Frank as 6â2âso yeah Iâm def in agreement with you on his height!
PLEASE, if you have any other tips for writing tall!reader, pleaseeeee lemme know! Iâm all ears and soooo excited to write this trope.
Could you write a small oneshot of Matt Murdock x reader where you help him shave?? đ„șđ„ș like where youâre on the bathroom counter with him between your legs just letting you shave him??
Of course!! I love the idea of Matt trusting you with something so intimate, even if it is a small act.
Helping Matt shave
Matt Murdock x GN!reader
Mattâs hands ran along your thighs, tracing shapes that didnât even seem to make out anything. Mornings like these brought a sense of assurance in his life, a way to ground himself in who he really is. Yes, he is the man who goes out at night and âsaves the cityâ, but heâs also just a man, a man who is desperately in love with you.
He wasnât the kind of man to fall this hard, but he couldnât help himself. It was the little things youâd do for him, like now.
You sat atop the bathroom counter while Matt stood between your legs. You had a hand on the bottom of Mattâs chin as you dragged the razor along your boyfriendâs shaving cream covered face. Mattâs eyes were open, staring, but unable to see. He craved more than anything to see you, to admire your beauty.
The way the razor swiftly dragged along his jaw earned a content sigh from him. Mattâs hand was still on your thigh, slowly moving up your leg as you shaved his face. He liked being pampered, and the way you had him wrapped around your finger was making him fall apart at the seams. He bit his lip at the thought of how much control you held over him before he opened his mouth to speak.
âYouâre doing a good job.â
He spoke with that smooth tone that sent chills down your spine, his voice a bit raspier from tiredness. He was so soft for you.
âAnd how would you know?â You retorted, a gentle smile painting your lips at the joke. It was common, the two of you to joke of his blindness.
A smirk tugged on the corners of Mattâs lips as he let out a soft chuckle, his thumb gently rubbing your thigh at your comment.
âOh, I just know.â
He quipped back, shifting his neck so you had better access to shave below his jaw. He let out a sigh when the razor glided over his skin, his tone suddenly softer as he added, âKeep going.â
You dragged the razor along Mattâs neck, the white shaving cream on his face and neck soon disappearing. âThere, Iâm all done.â You whispered, pecking his nose as your hands cupped his face.
âNow you feel all soft,â you tenderly cooed. Matt smirked at your touch, the corners of his lips turning upwards at your praise. As you finished up shaving him clean, Matt leaned just a bit closer, his body pressing up against yours. He loved having you this close to him, your proximity was like a drug he couldn't get enough of.
âAll thanks to you, sweetheart.â
He murmured, his voice low and gravelly as his smirk turned into a soft smile. You couldnât help but kiss him, hands sliding up to the back of his neck as you pulled away and admired him, and despite the fact Matt couldnât see, he opened his eyes eagerly.
In typical Matt fashion, he cupped the bottom of your thighs and picked you up, guiding you through the house with ease to your shared bedroom.
A soft noise escaped your lips as Mattâs lips locked with yours. This is gonna be a long nightâŠ
knife play with evil!spike and/or evil!angel đ€€đ€€đ€€
Yes, knife play with Spike but instead it's Slayer!reader deciding she's going to kill Season 5 Spike in his mausoleum with her trusty stake.
He really crossed the line this time. You are sick and tired of him butting his big head into your business, hanging around you, hanging around your family and friends, screwing up your work. But truth be told he'd always been able to match your skills and strength. Had he not been able to, he would have been dead ages ago. Buffy would have killed him. If he were dead you'd finally be free, and you wouldn't have to babysit Spike a single moment more. You loved Buffy to pieces, but it was so unfair of her to drop Spike on you! He was her problem! Now he followed you everywhere and made saving lives all the more difficult. And all because of that stupid chip embedded into his brain!
This bitch had to go.
You pushed Spike back with a kick the second you came through the door, his back bumping against the stone sarcophagus where he slept. Now he is wide eyed, his neck straining as you hold the point of the wooden stake against his jugular. Slowly, Spike lifts his hands up, one corner of his lips twitching even as he is pinned in place by the very end of a threat. âI have a feeling you might be angry.â
âReally? What gave it away?â You glare at him, pressing the stake down against his neck, not piercing him, just causing him to suck in a rigid breath. His blue-eyed gaze lowers to the sneer on your lips then lifts again to meet your eyes, a smug smirk finally fully stretching across his annoying face. âYou look cute when you're angry, love.â
With a growl you dig the stake into his flesh, the recently sharpened tip breaking pallid skin, causing him to hiss out in pain as he attempts to back away. Unfortunate for him, the sarcophagus digging at his spine kept him trapped. âI'm going to kill you, Spike. I'll finally rid the world of your useless existence and free myself from having to clean after your messes. If it's not your Buffy obsession, it's Drusilla shoving herself back into the plot, and if not her then it's vengeful demons that have a bone to pick with you. I am sick of it!â
Spike's eyes darken at your words, his smirk slowly fading and easily replaced by a scowl. âIndeed? And killing me would bring you peace?â
âPlenty!â
âRight. Even when it would mean chucking your principles out the window because you can't take a couple of inconveniences?â
A dry laugh erupted from you at the audacity of his words. âThat's rich coming from you! Considering how quickly you switched sides when you couldn't kill humans, but then switched back when Buffy rejected you!â
âI needed Dru to trust me! To prove to Buffy that I am not who I used to be!â
âIt doesn't matter what it was for! You fold under pressure! You always do! That's why you've never been able to kill Buffy!â
Spike's mouth opens and closes like a fish trying to find a valid argument or defense, but nothing comes out. It is true. He always caved to Druâs demands and if not her, then savage demons foiling his plans to take over humanity. Including Angel, who was constantly getting in his damned way both as the conniving son of a bitch Angelus and the moral, good-for-nothing, soul-having version of himself. Then there was Buffy, making everything difficult for him since he arrived in Sunnydale. The last thing he had wanted was to fall in love with her. He hated her. Or at least he thought he did. After her rejection and everything that had been happening with Gloria, she couldnât deal with Spike anymore. She wanted him as far away from her as possible, and if he wasnât going to leave Sunnydale, then he needed a watchful eye. Buffy had put it as being a sort of âparole officerâ, but you knew, and Spike knew, that she intended for you to babysit the undead asshole. Youâd both become sideliners in her life. He a problem, and you the trustworthy backup. Spike craved to be useful. To do something with his time other than sit around in a dusty old crypt, drawing Buffy, fucking his fist, watching bad TV, talking to himself, drinking and mourning his life before the chip in his head, before the slayer, and before Sunnydale. He wanted out, yet he couldn't bring himself to leave Sunnydale.
When Buffy dropped him on you, neither of you were happy about the arrangement, but Spike soon got to find something new to do. Bothering you and leading you on blind goosechases instead. You spent too much time in this damn mausoleum for your liking. Getting him what he needs, taking him on patrol, following his empty leads that wasted your time, arguing with him, spending sleepless nights criss-cross apple sauce across from him on his bed talking and looking at his stupid sketchesâŠ
Spikeâs lips twitch angrily. You don't think heâs ever looked this hurt before. You both squabble and argue all the time, but this time it was different. His life is at your fingertips. One plunge of your stake away. He knows he wasnât a good person. He was a demon, possessing the shell of the human man he used to be. William the Bloody. A bloody bad poet. Craving love that humiliated him and tore him to shreds. A love that sent him straight into the arms of a devil and right into an un-life of mischief and cruel villany. He really did fold under pressure. Under disappointment. Spike knew all this now, but he still wanted what Angel got to have: a second chance. He thought that with you he'd finally gotten it. Because despite your differences, you'd given him a purposeâalthough initially reluctantlyâwhen no one else wanted to do so. Not Buffy, and not the Scooby gang. You.
You're taken aback when Spike reaches up and wraps a hand around yours, the vicious one that holds the stake to his neck. He lifts it and directs it over his chest, allowing the point of the stake to press above where his unbeating heart is meant to be. âThen do it. Stake me. You know I can't hurt you. I can't put up a fight unless you're a demon. It will be easy and quick. Just make sure to vacuum my ashes off the floor, it's in poor taste to leave a mess.â
âWhat are you doing?â You look down at his chest, Spike's grip turning firmer, surer, as he presses the stake harder into his sternum. You tense your fingers around the weapon, trying to pull your hand back.
âI said. Stake. Me. That's what you want, no? You want me gone.â
âSpike-â
âI have no other purpose on this Earth other than to piss you and a million others off. That's what I do. No matter what I do. Nothing I try changes who I am. Not to Buffy, not to her friends, and especially not to you. It doesn't matter if I've controlled my hunger, if I've cut off Dru from my life, if I've shared my thoughts and feelings and my history with you. I'm still defined now by the sins I have committed from the moment I crawled out of my grave. It doesn't matter if I lie awake hating the thing I turned out to be, if I've gotten your back when you need it most, or if it's you that keeps me from giving up and throwing myself under the sun. But riddle me this, slayer: why does Angel get to redeem himself? Why does Anya? Have we forgotten she threw Cordelia into a timeline that could have destroyed the world? Faith? They have all done terrible things. Yet I am the only one that continues to be punished?â
Your mouth draws into a grimace, your eyes avoiding Spike's, but he quickly pinches your chin, tilting your face to meet your gaze. âKill me. Maybe I'll be free as well. Free from the torment of not being enough.â
The sting in your eyes startled you. Your fingers had never trembled or hesitated when it came to killing vampires. They were a pestilence. It was your job. You were chosen for this. Albeit by accident, but chosen nonetheless. But Spike was right about you. It wasn't your principle to kill without a true reason. To kill someone that could not defend himself. You hadnât known he felt this way either. He was obnoxious and dramatic most days, easily hiding all of these sentiments. And now he was outright asking you to end it. You were hoping he was gambling, manipulating you, but he just looked⊠determined. There was no fear in his eyes. The spark of mischief he always carried dulled like the dying embers at the butt of a crumpled cigarette. Once fiery and pungent, it was now nothing but stale ash.
He was serious. Spike wanted you to plunge your stake into his heart. You looked at his fingers wrapped around your stake-holding hand, black nail polish decorating the digits. You'd painted them for him not long ago, a very few lightly chipped. He needed a retouch soon. You'd also been meaning to take him to a screening of a movie next week. He kept bugging you about it, some crazy action movie he saw the trailer of on his crappy TV. You were knitting him a damn quilt because the stupid crypt looked sad. Why? Why the hell did you have to care? God, you inadvertently let him tangle himself into your life in such a way that you didn't know how to undo it. Now with your anger cooling down and with him waiting for the kill, you can't find a reason for him to die.
Spike directed your face towards him again with a slight shake. âY/N! Do it!â
You swallow. You had to do it. That's what you came here for. He'd crossed the line. That should be enough of an excuse to kill him. You grip the stake tighter, your hand shaking with the effort. âNo!â You hear the cry of your own voice, breaking. âI⊠I can'tâŠâ
Meeting his gaze with tear-filled eyes, you wish there was something you could say that didn't sound like pity. You didn't pity him. You know that he would hate you more if you did. He was right about absolutely everything. Everyone else got a chance except for him. It was unfair.
Spike's eyes soften and slowly, as if trying not to spook you, he takes his hand from your chin to cup your cheek. A callused thumb rubs your cheekbone back and forth before his palm slides to the back of your neck, fingers curling into your hair. He leans in, never loosening his hand around yours with the stake.
âPlease, Spike-â You breathe, his nose nudging yours, âI'm sorry. I'm so sorry.â
âShhh.â His breath fans your cheek as he proceeds to plant kisses over the salty drops of tears that had escaped your eyes. âWhy are you crying, love?â
âI can't kill you.â
He chuckled, âYou're crying because you can't kill me?â
âNo, you twat!â
âOh, wow, big bloody word that one. I'm a very bad influence on you, you know?â He continued to trace the trail of tears with his soft lips.
âI'm no better than any of them.â
âYes, you are.â
âNo I'm not!â You pull your head back to look up at him better. âI was going to kill you.â
âBut you didn't.â
âBut I wanted to-â His lips press against yours suddenly, a surprised hum vibrating in your throat. Spike slants his mouth, using his own lips to part yours. Your eyes flutter close and a little moan slips from you as Spike's tongue enters your mouth to massage yours. He groans at the sound and tugs your hair, pulling the skin of your skull pleasurably taunt. When he breaks the kiss your lips are swollen and reddened, slightly parted in breathless pants.
A primal growl rumbles in Spike's chest at the sight. He pulls your head back and quickly attaches his mouth to your jaw, kissing and nibbling your skin. With a shuddering breath you reach up to cup his cheek with your free hand, feeling the tantalizing movements of the muscles in his jaw as he draws a path of open mouth kisses down to your chin. You try to pry the stake away from between you to throw it away across the room in offense, but Spike kept a tight grip. âDon't,â He sighs against your skin, biting your throat softly to hear your breaths stutter into a whimper. âKeep the stake there, Y/N. Don't move it. Got it?â
âYes.â You confirm breathlessly.
Tentatively, Spike lets go of your hand, slender fingers brushing over your knuckles before he drops his hand to your waist. When you don't move the stake, he grins and captures your mouth again, using the hand he kept in your hair to press you into the kiss. The hand on your waist snakes to your lower back, pulling you closer. He moans into your mouth as the point of the stake digs into his chest, his shirt serving as a temporary barrier against its life threatening sharpness. Spike deepens the kiss by tilting his head and licking into your mouth while his hand moves from your lower back to your ass. He grips one round globe through your short skirt and you whimper, taking your hand from his cheek to grip his shoulder. Spike shoves one of his thighs between yours, pressing the tensed muscle up against your clothed heat. He lets his hand slip under the skirt to grip your ass, warm skin filling his cold palm as he starts to drag your hips back and forth, making you rub firmly on his thigh. You gasp against his mouth, fingers curling into his shirt, but the action only serves for him to suck on your tongue, and kiss your teeth, spit beginning to gather at the corners of your lips.
You kiss Spike back eagerly, chasing his mouth, and allowing yourself to mindlessly grind on him a little faster. You can feel your underwear begin to grow damper, and Spike lets out a groan at the growing smell of your arousal, his cock twitching needily in his jeans in response. He helps you move against him, his own hips bucking at the sensation of your wetness staining his pants. Spike whimpers and breaks the kiss to bury his face in your neck, his nose pressed against your throat while he nibbles and sucks at your collarbone, his hand pushing you to move faster and harder than before, fingers digging borderline painfully into your asscheek.
âSpike-â You whine as your thighs tremble and squeeze his, the heat pooling between your thighs making you angle your hips so your achy clit was stimulated.
âI know, love. I know.â He groans, his hips bucking against your stomach.
You bite your lip, whimpering as molten heat steers your core, your body tensing as you chase the tricky pinnacle of your pleasure. Spike pressed his thigh up harder into you when he catches the way you become more breathless and desperate, your brows knitted in concentration and frustration. âI canât-â You start and he pulls your head back harder, eliciting a moan from you.
âYes, you can.â
Spike brings his mouth to the sensitive spot below your jaw where your pulse is hammering, calling to his most beastly instincts. He bites down on the skin, resisting the urge to break the skin with his fangs, and sucks at the sweet spot. As you keen in pleasure, your grinding slowing as if you canât focus on two different sensations, Spike drops his hand from your hair and uses both of his hands to move you, his fingers digging into your hips. Your breaths grow faster, the tension in your stomach increasing until a broken cry tears from your chest, your cunt throbbing rhythmically, inner walls contracting as you topple over the edge of pleasure.
With a wet pop, Spike detaches his mouth from your neck and licks over the raw skin, a purple bruise starting to bloom, circled by teeth marks. A hickey that would probably sadly fade in less than an hour due to your quick healing ability. Spike's lips quirk in a smug smirk as he raises his hand to rub his thumb over the bruise, the skin wet and warm to the touch. His eyes rove over your face and the glistening sheen of sweat that formed over your skin. Your lips are parted in shaky pants as you come down from your high, your eyes glazed and dazed, while your cheeks are deliciously flushed. Spike leans in and bites your cheek playfully, making you whine and hit his chest.
âSo cute.â He chuckles, licking the sweat off your jaw before pulling back to look at you again.
Your eyes drop to the stake you're still holding against his chest. The point had torn into his shirt, puncturing and scratching his sternum. âSpike!â You drop the stake and press your palm over the wound.
âIt's fine. I'm fine. It'll heal quickly.â
âSo? I could have accidentally staked you! I can't measure my strength when I'mâŠâ You press your lips close, embarrassment clear on your face.
âExperiencing pleasure beyond your wildest fantasies?â He offers cheekily as he searches your eyes. You glare at him and finish the argument. âWhen I'm distracted⊠VulnerableâŠâ
Spike's smirk softens and he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your lips. âI like your violence. I like to see your fire. And I like that my life is in your hands.â
Your eyes grow sad, âAre you really so unhappy you truly wish to die?â
âNo, love. That's not what I mean by that. I mean that I trust you. I trust you with my livelihood. Or well⊠my un-life. I knew you were not going to stake me. Because that's just not who you are. If you truly wanted to kill me, you would have plunged your stake into my heart the second you walked in here. No waiting or dramatic monologs. You monolog when you stall.â
âN-No I don't!â The red on your cheeks deepens.
âYes you do. You prefer going for the kill. No talking. No chances for your target to escape. Buffy's thing is to be witty and dramatic in her fights.â
âI can be wittyâŠâ
Spike chuckles at your mumbling and leans in, placing a chaste peck on your lips. âThe point is I like the danger that comes with your rage. Turns me on. I think we'd highly benefit from angry sex.â
You scoff and hit his arm. âPervert.â
âYou're just as bad as me.â He flips you off and you stick your tongue out at him. âBut seriously. I don't want to hear you say you're like Buffy and her obnoxious posse.â Spike's hands drop to your waist, his fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt to caress your skin in a soothing manner. âYou were angry and I'm not exactly making things any easier for you. I know fighting a demon I accidentally summoned was not in your plans this evening⊠But neither was it my plan for it to become your problem.â He sighs and licks his lips, also slightly reddened from kissing you, as he looks into your eyes. âI would have helped you if you'd let me. I didn't need you to clean my mess.â
âWhy did you do it? Summon that⊠thing?â
âI was trying to find more information about Gloria to help you and Buffy, but I should know by now not to trust sketchy men in suits at monster pubs.â
âYou really should.â You laugh.
âYeah, well, lesson learned.â Spike wraps his arms around you and presses his ear to your chest, right above your heart. He sighs and nuzzles into you, keeping you tightly against his body. Your fingers card through his silver hair in response, your chest fluttering at his affection.
Maybe this undead bitch could stay alive a little while longer.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
-Lady Pensive
I know this isn't as spicy as expected from knife play, but this is what came to my mind. I know Spike is a whore for Slayers and that man loves being at the other end of a stake (without getting killed). The request reminded me of when Harmony role-played being a Slayer for him.
***Note I missed when I posted yesterday: first time using Y/N in a fic since 2022. Idk why I've been avoiding using Y/N. I think the whole making fun of Y/N online ruined it for me. It was funny at first... but like... Y/N is a staple of fanfiction culture. And when you write reader insert fics you run out of things to call the reader other than by their name... So, welcome back Y/N. I won't avoid you anymore.
frank catches you staring in the middle of his workout
the hideout is never completely silent. thereâs always the low hum of microâs equipment somewhere in the background, the occasional click of keys from the next room, the rattle of old pipes and water leaking.
frank's too busy counting under his breath as he moves through another set of pushups, palms flat against the worn concrete floor, muscles shifting beneath the faded black shirt heâd abandoned halfway through the workout. now itâs tossed over the back of a chair, forgotten.
you tell yourself not to look.
he's moving through the pushups effortlessly. every rise and fall is measured. shoulders tense, forearms flexing, old scars catching your attention.
âyou gonna keep staring, or you got something to say?â his voice cuts through the room.
heat climbs straight into your face. âI wasnât staring.â
âyeah?"
âyeah, I wasnât.â
frank pushes himself upright in a single motion and grabs the towel hanging off the chair, dragging it across the back of his neck. he chuckles under his breath, low and rough, and sits on the edge of the battered table. âyouâre terrible at lyin', sweetheart."
frank reaches for the water bottle beside him and takes a drink without breaking eye contact. âwhat was so interesting?â he says eventually.
you blink, too stunned to speak. he lets the silence stretch and lets you sit in it. you lift your chin, trying to recover some dignity.
âI was just⊠making sure you werenât overdoing it.â
he raises an eyebrow. âthatâs your excuse?â
âyes.â
"yeah, okay, sure- whatever you say."
you clear your throat and make a show of looking around the room instead, as if the peeling paint on the walls has suddenly become interesting. your face feels warmer by the second, and you can only hope the dim lighting hides it.
he shakes his head once, the ghost of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth before he drops back into position on the floor.
âc'mere.â
you blink again. âwhat?â
âc'mon.â
you eye him suspiciously. âwhy?â
âneed more weight.â
you laugh. âyouâve lost it.â
âget on my back.â
you stare at him for a second, waiting for the punchline but it never comes.
âyouâre serious.â
âI donâ joke about no workouts.â
from the other room, micro calls without looking up from his screens. âhe really doesnât.â
you glance between them. âyouâre telling me to⊠sit on you?â
frank plants his hands more firmly on the concrete âwhat, you deaf now?"
thereâs enough certainty in his voice that, after another hesitant second, you step closer. carefully, awkwardly, you shift your weight onto his back, expecting him to wobble or complain. once youâre settled, he adjusts his stance by a fraction of an inch.
âcomfortable?â
âfrank, are you sure about this?â
âwatch me, sweetheart."
he lowers himself in one swing and pushes right back up effortlessly. your eyes widen.
âno way.â
the movement is so controlled that you barely feel yourself rise and fall with him.
âyouâre kidding.â
âcountingâs easier than talking, dollâ he replies between repetitions. you shake your head in disbelief as he keeps going, steady as ever.
âyouâre making this look easy.â
âcause' it is.â
from behind the monitors comes an exaggerated sigh âI leave the room for five minutes,â micro mutters, âand weâre inventing new gym equipment.â
frank finally finishes the set and pushes himself upright one last time. âall right,â he says evenly. âhop off.â
the moment your shoes hit the floor, you feel it properly - the difference between being held steady and suddenly being on your own balance again. frank watches you for a second, expression steady again.
ânext time,â he says, âyou can try not starin' so obviously.â
your face warms immediately. âfrank! I said I wasnât-â
âoh, please." he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, bringing his hand up to massage in-between his eyebrows. âitâs distractin'.â
you go still for a second, confused. âme?â
âyeah,â he says simply, picking up his shirt from the chair and tugging it on. âyou.â
frank reaches the sink, turns it on, and leans forward slightly as he splashes water over his face. his shoulders are still relaxed, like he didnât just shift something in the air between you. like he doesnât feel it lingering at all. he turns off the tap, wipes his hands on the towel, and without looking back once, heads out of the room.
the door clicks shut behind him.
only then do you exhale properly, staring at the empty space he just left behind like itâs malfunctioning.
your face is warm and you press your fingertips briefly against your cheek like that might fix it, even though it absolutely doesnât. you glance down at the floor, shaking your head to yourself, but the small, betrayed smile on your mouth doesnât go away.
I am keeping this side blog easy peasy, yâall. Only new writings will be reblogged here, so you can turn on notifications and not get spammed, and I donât need to keep tag lists because they are tedious AF and make me want to die lolol.
I will tag fics by character, so you can easily search based on your babe preference.
Also if a reblog is part of a series, Iâll include a âseries: name of seriesâ tag in addition to the character tag.
See! Easy peasy! Enjoy and donât forget to have your backup panties on standby. đđđ
P.S. If youâre new to me and my writings, you can check out my masterlist here
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2,967
Summary: After a week of working on Lloyd, you were definitely ready for your vacation. But your time away from work doesn't start off the way you expected. Not at all.Â
Warnings: AU. Explicit language. Mild sexual content. AI!Lloyd. Developer!Reader. 40s!Curvy!Reader. Vulgar language and sooo many sexual innuendos lol.Â
A/N: Iâm so tickled that so many of you loved AI!Lloyd lolll. Heâs a freakinâ hoot to write, so of course I had to revisit him ASAP. Please enjoy his next installment. And if youâre new to this story, be sure to read AI!Lloydâs intro first â€ïž
Superior AI Masterlist
It had been so long since you took a vacation, that you forgot how amazing it felt to walk into work for the last time before you skedaddled off for real, blessed freedom.Â
You were in a glorious moodâyou felt like you were walking on air as you strolled toward your lab, sipping on the fancy coffee you had treated yourself to in celebration of vacation eve. You were even humming a jaunty tune as the doors to your lab slid open and you stepped inside.Â
To find Lloyd standing completely naked in the middle of the roomâsave those fucking loafers without socks. His hands were on his hips, his head tipped back toward the vent above him, which was blowing down a stream of fresh, cool air that caused his hair to ruffle ever so slightly.Â
âWhat the hell are you doing?â you screeched, nearly dropping your coffee in shock.Â
Lloyd blinked his eyes open, his lips tilted into a smirk as he replied, âEnjoying the breeze. Gotta let the boys breathe, yanno?â
âYou are a fucking machine, the boys arenât real!â you huffed. Turning on your heel, you stomped over to the keypad on the wall beside your lab doors, punching in a code that immediately turned the glass from clear to frosted.Â
Because you would not foist Lloydâs unhinged and inappropriate behavior on any innocent bystanders.Â
âI beg to differ,â Lloyd huffed. Then he grinned, and it was a sinful wicked thing. âLet me show you how real they are. âCause when I tell you they are full and achingâŠâ
You made a face, scoffing, âYouâre disgusting.â
Refusing to look Lloydâs way, you marched over to your desk, setting down your coffee before shrugging off your coat.Â
âHubba hubba,â Lloyd groaned as you revealed your outfitâa wrap dress that you hadnât worn in years, but since all your clothes had been packed for your trip, you were down to the bottom of your closet barrel.Â
âOh, shut up,â you muttered, your face warming exponentially as you felt his leering gaze aimed your way.Â
âIâm just eager to get my hands on all those luscious curves. Youâve got a body made to be used, pumpkin, so let daddy use you like we both know you want.â
âUgh!âÂ
You had always considered yourself pretty laid back, with a sense of humor to boot, but after a week straight of Lloyd and his neverending nonsense, he was truly starting to get on your last nerve.Â
âHey, donât knock it till you try it,â Lloyd purred. âYou wouldnât believe some of the features Iâve been gifted with.â
You finally turned back to him, your face steely as you pointed a finger for emphasis and hissed, âPut on some clothes or I am taking you to the incinerator.â
âOhhh yes, mommy.â Lloyd made a show of shivering, and you caught a glimpse of his cock twitching before you grimaced out another âugh!â and made yourself look away.Â
âNot into a mommy kink, got it. Your preferences have been updated.â Lloyd winked.Â
Not that you could see him doing so, since you were now planted in your desk chair and staunchly staring at your computer screen as you began to sift through your email.Â
He huffed again, muttering under his breath as you ignored him, but you couldnât make out what he was saying. You could, however, hear the rustle of clothing, and thankfully, once Lloyd appeared beside your desk a moment later, arms crossed and pouting, he was fully clothed.Â
âYou need to get laid, cupcake,â he declared, like it was a known truth instead of merely his opinion.Â
Even though a quiet, traitorous voice in the very back of your mind agreed with Lloyd, you didnât respond to him. Didnât even look at him.Â
Because you had learned that the more you engaged with him, or bantered with him, the more it encouraged him to act like a grade A jackass.Â
âI eagerly volunteer to rock your world,â he continued, leaning close to try to get a reaction out of you.
Setting your jaw, you continued to try to read through your email, not giving Lloyd a lick of attention, which you knew he craved.Â
After nearly a week of studying him, of running various tests and diagnostics, and trying to figure out how he kept overriding his programming, you were barely any closer to real answers in that regard, but you sure did know a whole lot more about Lloyd.Â
He was a diva, a deviant, and apparently sex obsessed. Not a day had gone by that he hadnât hurled a plethora of innuendos and salacious offers and requests at you, whichâridiculouslyâonly seemed to make you realize how woefully lonely and unsatisfied you were.Â
Not that you would ever let on to that, especially to Lloyd.
âHey, where youâd go, pumpkin?âÂ
You jumped as Lloydâs lips brushed your cheek as he spoke, jerking away to find him leaning over you from behind now, watching as you stared at your computer screen but didnât actually work.Â
When his eyes met your wide ones, he grinned big and naughty. âAre you thinking sexual thoughts about me?â
âNo! Ew!â
His eyes twinkled. âFine, sexual thoughts in general?â
âLloyd! Get away from me.â You elbowed him hard, feeling a small sense of victory as he grunted, even though you knew you couldnât actually hurt him.Â
He straightened, but remained close. âIf you were to have sexual thoughts, what would they be?â
You closed your eyes, exhaling hard. You could feel a headache already starting to build behind your eyes. You werenât sure how you were going to put up with nearly seven more hours of his nonsense.Â
Nodding to yourself, you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you straightened in your chair and wheeled it closer to your desk. You clicked on the next unread email, starting to read before Lloydâs voice once again broke your concentration.
âYou know, if you were a Senior Developer who really cared about her work, youâd experience all I have to offer firsthand. How can you fix me when you barely know me, or what Iâm capable of?â
You turned to him, eyebrow arched and voice unimpressed as you asked, âAre you capable of shutting the fuck up so I can do my work?â
âOh ho ho, someone's got a dirty mouth on her. Think of how fun it would be to let me put it to good use.â
Your lips dropped open at that one, and damnit. The image of being on your knees as Lloyd used your mouth bloomed to life in your brain before you could fend it off.Â
Somehow, it was like Lloyd knew, and your face burned as he cackled at your reaction.Â
Clapping his hands together, he waggled his eyebrows, pointing at you as he winked. âLooks like you got a mind as dirty as that mouth, cupcake, and Iâm so fucking here for it.â
âThatâs it! You, over here, now!â You launched yourself to your feet before grabbing Lloydâs arm and dragging him over to the diagnostics area of your lab. âI am ecstatically looking forward to my vacation just so I get a break from you, you deviant,â you gritted as you shoved him around until you could reach the power button at his nape.Â
âMethinks the luscious lady doth protest too much,â Lloyd shot you a smarmy grin and kissy face over his shoulder.Â
Which only made it feel all the more satisfying when you pressed your thumb to the Superior AI logo at his neck and he powered down, slumping forward and going blessedly quiet.Â
âThank fucking god,â you huffed, resisting the urge to kick the annoying robot before turning on your heel and stomping back to your desk.
Hours later, you were exhausted after a day that had felt too long, but you were also grinning so big as you drove the SUV you had rented down the gravel road that led to your decked out rental a few states north.Â
You actually gasped as the road gave way to a large, gravel driveway, and you caught sight of the cabin tucked away in the middle of the woods.Â
It looked like some kind of forest mansionâits exterior a combination of dark wood and meticulous stonework that was framed by the lush overhang of trees surrounding the property. There was a wrap-around porch that you knew was occupied by a tempting hot tub out back, and large windows that glowed brightly from the timered lights the owner had warned you about. And just inside, you could see a glimpse of all the handcrafted woodwork that had sold you on staying here, that was so different from your own modern house.
Everything about this place screamed nature, peace, and rejuvenation, and you could already feel the tension easing from your shoulders as you turned off the SUV and unbuckled your seatbelt.Â
âLetâs get this vacation started!â Lloyd shouted as he suddenly popped up from the back seat like some kind of deranged jack-in-the-box robot from hell.
You screamed, twisting around in your seat and chucking the car keys at his head out of instinct.
âHoly shitballs!â he hissed, barely ducking out of the keysâ way before glaring at you. âYou need to work on being more hospitable, cupcake.â
âWhat the actual fuck?!?!?â You screeched, pressing a hand to your chest where your heart was still thundering from the shock of his sudden appearance. âWhat are you doing here?â
Lloyd leaned his arms on the edges of the front seats, smiling big as he replied, âWaiting for you to take me inside so we can finally bump uglies.â
âLloyd! Explain! I powered you down this morning! I double checked you were still powered down before I left. How are you here?!â You stared at him in a horrified kind of wonder.Â
âPssht, we both know something as lame as a basic system setting isnât gonna keep me contained. Besides, youâre super uptight, take your job real seriously, youâd never let me fuck you at work. So, I removed that block from the equation. Now you have no reason to keep shooting me down.â
âI donât want to have sex with you!â you hollered.
âDoubtful,â Lloyd scoffed. âHave you seen me?â He touched his hands to his chest, skimming them lower as he waggled his eyebrows at you.
Trapping another screech behind your clenched teeth, you shoved out of the vehicle, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stormed toward the trunk and pulled it open to grab your luggage.Â
You were so annoyed, fuming really, your body buzzing with it as you tried to wrestle your three suitcases from the depths of the trunk, to no avail.Â
âDid you pack everything you own?â Lloyd snorted as he appeared beside you, twirling the car keys around his finger as he watched you struggle.Â
You straightened, glowering at him as you barked, âAt least make your stowaway self useful and help me!â
Lloydâs nose wrinkled. âIâm not a luggage wrack, toots.â
âOhhh you are tempting me to make you into one.â
Lloyd watched you for a beat, drinking in the way your gaze was blazing with an angry kind of disbelief. Sighing, he rolled his eyes before leaning forward and easily sweeping up all of your luggage at once.Â
You couldnât even be impressedâand he definitely didnât deserve your gratitudeâso you just hmphed and stalked toward the cabin, feeling your awe and wonder from before start to trickle through you again as you saw just how beautifully crafted the structure was up close.Â
You couldnât help it as your hand reached out, trailing along the somehow smooth and rough at the same time stones that split up all of the wood paneling on the cabinâs exterior.Â
When you reached the front door, you dug your phone from your pocket, pulling up the welcome email the owner had sent you. You typed in the provided security code on the keypad beside the door, and there was a cheery chime as a light blinked green before the front door unlocked with a quiet click.
You turned the knob and stepped inside, nearly bowled over by how large the interior was. Everywhere you turned, beautiful oak wood greeted you. The cabin was the epitome of cozy indulgenceâthe living room had the biggest, most beautiful stone fireplace you had ever seen, and all of the furniture looked so high end and comfortable, you were afraid to touch it let alone use it.Â
You were still trying to process that this would be your home away from home for the next three weeks when Lloyd pulled up beside you, giving an appreciative whistle. Â
âPersonally, Iâd prefer some leopard print over the taxidermied road kill decor, but to each their own.â He dropped your luggage without care, turning to you with a grin. âShall we christen the living room first, orââ
âNo! Donât you even start, I swear to god!â You pointed across the living room, to where it opened up and flowed into a ridiculously large kitchen that was currently dark. âLetâs go, you goddamn menace.âÂ
You didnât even bother to take off your coat before marching into the kitchen and pointing to an empty corner.Â
Because you were not going to officially start your vacation with Lloyd fucking Hansen nipping at your heels.
âYou are going to stay in here and power down and stay powered down, or I am going to dismantle you myself, I swear to god!â
âOhhh, I dunno,â Lloyd chuckled as he sauntered in behind you, flipping on the lights over the marble isle before turning to you. âI kinda like the sound of that.â
He didnât just hover a few feet away from you like he usually did, he sauntered right up to youâinvading your personal spaceâand pinned you against the fridge as he purred, âJust be sure to be gentle when you put me back together again, cupcake. Iâm more sensitive than youâd think and I love a little bit of aftercare.â
Something about the darkened state of Lloydâs eyes, and the gravelly timber of his voice, had a shiver racing up your spine. Ignoring the way your body perked up in hyperawarenessâat both his proximity and wordsâyou pointed to the corner again.Â
âPower down. Now.â
Lloyd watched you for a beat, and then he sighed in disappointment before turning and sauntering over to the empty corner. He turned, giving you a final stareâintense enough to make all of your hair stand on endâbefore he muttered, âInitiating power down modeâŠmommy,â he taunted, his eyes briefly glowing turquoise before his body slumped forward.Â
You released a breath you didnât realize you had been holding, watching Lloyd in his powered down state for a moment.
Part of you still couldnât believe that he was actually hereâso far away from your lab at Superior AIâand crashing your very much needed vacation.Â
And then there was another part of you, perhaps the overly logical developer part who had witnessed a week's worth of Lloydâs antics, that was more surprised you hadnât seen this coming.Â
But you wouldnât let his unexpected nonsense ruin your vacation. You wouldnât.Â
Straightening your spine, you gave Lloydâs still form a final glower before you breezed from the kitchen and back out into the living room. You took a moment to remove your coat and hang it in the front closet, and then lock the front door, before you turned to the pile of luggage on the floor.Â
Setting aside the suitcase you needed tonight, you stacked the others in the closet. You were too tired after such a long driveâand an even longer work weekâto fully unpack right now. But there was no harm in leaving it until morning.Â
That was the whole point of a vacation, right? Relaxing. Not working. Enjoying yourself.
Nodding to yourself, you smiled a little, already planning which comfy pajamas you wanted to slip into after your shower as you turned and slowly made your way up the large, wood staircase leading to the second floor bedrooms.Â
Once you reached the top of the stairs, you flipped the lightswitches there. One to turn on the hall light so you could see your path to the mastersuite, and the other to turn off the lights downstairs.Â
You smiled bigger as you stepped inside the mastersuite, which was pretty much like stepping right into the lap of luxury.Â
âWow!â you breathed, your eyes big as they darted around the beautifully decorated space that was somehow both spa-like and rustic, and most definitely the nicest room you had ever stayed in ever.
You couldnât contain your grin as you dug through your suitcase, pulling free your preferred night shirt to sleep in, as well as your toiletries bag, and then you practically skipped to the ensuite, knowing only more tempting luxury would await you there.Â
As you started your wind down routine, you had no idea that downstairs, in the darkened kitchen, Lloyd suddenly straightened, powering himself on and glancing around with a smirk.Â
He cocked his head, listening to the faint sounds of you moving around upstairs, and his smirk morphed into a wolfish grin as he heard the shower kick to life and imagined you all soapy and naked and oh so close.Â
âJust gotta be patient for a little longer, and then once youâre tucked into bed fast asleep, itâll be time for me to do my due diligence and soften you up to me, pumpkin.â Lloyd leaned back against the wall, tucking his hands into his pockets as he hummed, âJust because you canât star in my dreams, doesnât mean I canât star in yours. Iâll have you weak kneed for me and riding the stache in no time, you just wait.â
lolllll. You guyssss! I love him so fucking much đ€Ł I am high key begging you to take a moment to drop me a comment or some reblog feedback. I need to spiral about this fictional man!robot with you!!!Â
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Please take a moment to comment or reblog. It means a lot to hear from my readers after sharing a story that I put so much love into. Serial liking without engagement is the quickest way to kill my writing motivation, and if you catch me on a bad day, you may even get blocked for it.
I no longer do tag lists, but if you'd like to be notified when I post new writing, follow my side blog @âsirisshamelesshoelibraryâ and turn on notifications to get pinged when I drop some new hoe fuel đ
Please note that I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, or published anywhere other than my Tumblr. I also do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI platforms. Reblogs are most welcome and encouraged though! â€ïž
°Ëâ§ËÊâĄÉËâ§Ë° FRANK CASTLE WITH A BISEXUAL GIRLFRIEND HEADCANONS
words: 762
warnings: brief mention of sex, thatâs all i think!
authorâs note: happy pride month from this bisexual girlie <3
â ËïœĄâàšâĄà§â ËïœĄâ
â„ïž his reaction to finding out depends on whether youâre already out or not. if you come out to him and youâre visibly nervous about it, heâll pull you into a hug and thank you for sharing with him. heâs incredibly honored that you trust him with this information and feel safe enough to tell him.
â„ïž still, he doesnât make a huge deal out of it because honestly, he doesnât care. well, he cares in the sense that itâs important to you and therefore itâs also important to him, but it doesnât really change anything, least of all how he feels about you. so maybe heâs almost too casual when he finds out.
â„ïž however, if youâve already done the whole coming out thing and happen to just mention a past crush or girlfriend in passing, heâll do that little pout he does and nod approvingly. âthat right, sweetheart? aight, thatâs wassup. didnât you had game like that.â earning a shove in the shoulder from you.
â„ïž he knows not to be an asshole, but there is still quite a lot heâs not too educated on. so, he takes it upon himself to do some reading â he gets a book on bisexuality from the local library and reads it half in secret, not wanting to be all embarrassing about having to study up on it. heâs lowkey about it, and he also doesnât want you to praise him; to him, itâs just basic decency and not something to get credit for.
â„ïž he learns a lot about different ways bisexuality is discriminated against and it makes him huff and puff. he makes mental notes of things not to say, to you or to anyone else. he takes it incredibly seriously.
â„ïž if lieberman or someone else says something questionable, frank is quick to shut it down. âhey, asshole, you ainât supposed to say that shit. apologize to the lady, huh?â
â„ïž he does, however, inevitably wonder if youâd rather be with someone else. itâs not because he doesnât trust you â itâs because itâs a fear he has regardless of your sexuality. he always believes you deserve better, that heâs not good enough for you, so it exacerbates that fear. thereâs even more options out there for you! but when he tries to bring it up, scratching his neck and nervously wondering if youâre really happy with just him, you make things abundantly clear for him. youâre in love with him, and you donât want anyone else.
â„ïž if you want to go to a pride parade/event, heâs hesitant. he wants to support you, but he considers it a massive safety hazard. all those people in a massive crowd where anything could happen? he knows hate crimes occur far too often and the last thing he wants is something happening to you.
â„ïž but he knows itâs important to you. so he asks, just once, if youâre sure. and if you say yes, itâs settled. heâs coming with you, holding your hand the whole time, scanning the crowd nonstop. heâs like a bodyguard; a scary dog by your side. itâs difficult for him to see people coming up to you with hugs, because every time he thinks a threat is approaching, but eventually, he figures that youâre in a safe space together.
â„ïž that said, heâs still frank. when a man with a free hugs sign comes up to him, he doesnât budge.
â„ïž when someone in the crowd starts throwing out free bracelets, frank is watching like a hawk. his tall and broad build allows him to effortlessly snatch one of the bisexual-themed ones, holding it closely to his chest like itâs the most precious treasure. only when youâre somewhere more quiet together, he slides it over your wrist, a little bashfully.
â„ïž heâs not loud about his support, but it shows in little ways. heâs always trying to learn more, and while books help, heâd rather hear things directly from you. he wants to hear your story, your experiences, the good and the bad. heâs always all ears and he never sees you any differently.
I think that when you're overstimulated you should appear kind of grayed out and no one should be able to interact with you like a locked character in a video game
