#barbie reader

[emlynnnnn]

ODD ONE OUT —

gosling!ken x barbie!reader

summary | You meet some of the other Barbies at beach. Ken gets a bright idea.

part one , part two , part three , part four , part five

. . .

YOU had always been different to the other Barbies in Barbieland. Book Barbie did not enjoy going to beach as much as everyone else—You absolutely hated sand and found little joy in volleyball. You preferred staying holed up in your book shop, reading your days away before you returned back to your dream house every evening as the sun set over the bright blue sky.

Most importantly, you had never had a Ken follow you around like all the other Barbies.

"Please come to beach, you haven't gone in days!" Your close friend, Allan, begged. You attempted to ignore him by hiding behind your book, to no avail, as he had simply pulled it down and away from your head.

"Don't make me, Allan..." You frowned, closing the book as you rested it on your lap. "You know how I feel about beach."

"But you haven't been in almost a week, Barbie... It's no fun going to beach without you," He looked down at you with his doe-y eyes, pouting out his bottom lip.

You thought it over for a few moments, looking away from Allan to avoid the sad puppy-look on his face. "I'll go for a little while," You finally huffed out, trying not to roll your eyes. It was only fair you went with him every now-and-then; he stayed with you at your book shop most other days. "Just let me close up the shop and I'll follow you down..."

Allan cheered, scrambling to the front door of the shop before turning around one more time. "I'll tell all of the Barbie's you're coming! They all keep asking about you," He spoke gleefully before disappearing outside and down the street toward beach.

You let out a small contesting grumble as you began to clean up around your shop to close for the day, double checking you had your beach outfit in the back.

. . .

"HEY Barbie! Long time no see!"

You sent lawyer Barbie a friendly smile as she greeted you at the bleachers on beach, welcoming you to sit down next to her. "Hi Barbie," You acknowledged her with a nod before taking the seat down next to her.

"Where have you been all week?" She asked with a frown.

"I've been... busy with the shop, sorry," You explained as your eyes moved to watch Allan cheer on the other Barbies as they played volleyball. The last thing you would ever do was tell the others you disliked beach. They would probably tell you to visit weird Barbie; no one hated beach!

"Oh! That's so cool!" She clapped her hands joyfully, excited to hear that your shop was doing well.

"What's cool?" Another voice piped in, making yourself and lawyer Barbie turn to see stereotypical Barbie looking at the two of you with her usual bright smile.

"Hi Barbie!" Lawyer Barbie waved to the blonde, signaling for her to sit down next to her like she had done for you. "Barbie was just telling me about how well her book shop was doing!"

"Oh my, that's amazing!" Stereotypical Barbie looked over to you excitedly. "Are you coming to girls night tonight?" She asked with an expectant smile, changing the subject to her nightly parties that she held at her dreamhouse.

You sent her a polite nod having known this question was coming—you couldn't possibly say no without bringing attention to yourself. "Of course, Barbie!" You grinned happily. "I've really missed it the last few nights... I've just been so busy!"

"Great!"

"Yay!"

Cheered lawyer and sterotypical Barbie, thrilled that their friend would be joining them for the first time in a few days.

The three of you had been freely chatting amongst yourselves on the bleachers when there was a sudden voice that called over in your direction, grabbing the attention of anyone in your immediate area.

"Hey Barbie!" The voice shouted eagerly, clearly pumped to see his Barbie on beach.

"Oh, hi Ken," Stereotypical Barbie greeted with a pleasant smile, happy to see her friend.

"Are you gonna play volleyball with us?" He asked with an optimistic grin, his huge surfboard tucked under one of his arms. He had yet to acknowledge you or lawyer Barbie.

As you watched their painfully one-sided conversation, you thought about how you had always felt bad for stereotypical Ken. More so than all the other Ken's in Barbieland, he was regularly ignored by his Barbie. Despite his adorable retriever-like personality and his oddly captivating blond hair, she had never seemed very interested in her matching Ken.

"I'll join you in volleyball after my conversation, Ken!" She told him with a plastic smile, obviously trying to shoo him away. "I want to talk about a book with Barbie," She continued to explain whilst pointing toward you. This piqued your interest, as Barbie was clearly not very interested in reading nor had anyone ever known her to be.

Ken obviously shared this thought as his face seemed to light up with an idea, his eyes falling on you for a moment before turning back to Barbie with a slow nod. "Alright... I'll see you after then?" He asked with a small tilt of his head.

Barbie sent him a nod before she focused back on yourself and lawyer Barbie once again to continue with your conversation.

. . .

THE day after beach was a quiet one, so you busied yourself away once again with one of your books. All you ever did was read books, and sometimes that made you feel lonely. You wanted to hang out with the other Barbies and Kens but that meant regularly going to beach, and you simply weren't willing to make that compromise.

Again; you hate sand.

You jumped in your pink swivel-chair behind the register when the the bell at the front door dinged, signaling the arrival of a customer. You looked up from you book and quickly hid it under the counter, surprised to see that it was stereotypical Ken that had walked through the door.

"Oh, hi Ken!" You sent him a bewildered glance, pushing yourself up from your chair to go greet him. "What're you doing here?"

"Hi Barbie," He flashed a charming smiled as he approached the register, leaning over the counter lazily as he sighed. "I wanted to buy a book for Barbie," He explained, referring to stereotypical Barbie.

The meaning behind that glance he sent you yesterday finally clicked hearing his intentions; he wanted to buy a book to impress his Barbie.

"Well..." You began slowly, trying to hide the amused grin that threated to pull at your mouth. You didn't want to break the news to the poor guy that Barbie had only used the whole 'book conversation' thing as an excuse, so you decided to play along. "What books do you think she would like?"

Ken pursed his lips for a moment as he stared thoughtfully at the wall behind you. "...I'm not sure..." He finally answered, defeated at this revelation. "I didn't even know she read books until yesterday..." He mumbled to himself.

You had to stifle a laugh at his response.

"Well, what do you like to read? You're friends with Barbie so you must like similar things!" He asked eagerly.

"I love a good fairytale," You answered fondly and your eyes seemed to glimmer as you thought about all of your favourite stories. "They're the best stories to imagine yourself in. Sometimes you're rescuing a Ken from a tower protected by a dragon, or you're travelling through the most dangerous seas to find the magical stone to save your friends... You can be anything in a fairytale, and that's what makes them so fun."

"Well then, that should be perfect for Barbie!" Ken grinned, inwardly admiring your clear love for books. "Which story would be the best to get for her?"

You scrunched your face up in thought, wanting to get the perfect book for your friend. You thought it was adorable how committed Ken was to making Barbie happy. "I know which one," You nodded to yourself as you pulled out the book you had placed under the register earlier.

Ken raised an eyebrow at this. "But... aren't you reading that right now?" He asked hesitantly, feeling bad about you wanting him to take it.

You brushed him of with a wave of your hand, sliding the hardback across the front counter towards him. "It's fine! I've read it plenty of times already... It's one of the best books I have, so take it—Barbie will love it," You lied, knowing she would have absolutely no interest in any book he would give her.

Ken picked it up excitedly, holding it close to his chest. "Perfect!" He exclaimed. "When do want the book back?"

"Policy says within a week, so any time within then," You shrugged nonchalantly.

"Great, thanks Barbie!" He shouted over his shoulder as he practically ran to the front door, eager to bring this new book to his Barbie for her to read.

You could finally let out a chuckle as Ken disappeared down the street, trying not to feel too bad for feeding into his delusion that Barbie saw him as anything other than a friend. In fact, part of you started to wonder what it was like for someone to pay attention to you like Ken did to Barbie.

It must be nice, you thought.

. . .

—> part two

. . .

note | this is my first post and story on tumblr… i’ve written a few other things on other sites i’m too embarrassed to mention (😭) but it’s been a few years so i’m probably a bit rusty.

i hope this first part was okay! i’m already working on part two, but i’ll see what people think about this first part before i post another one lmao.

[k-nayee]

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩K-nayee's ✩ Stardust (teaser)✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

✩‧₊ ̗̀✧₊∘∘₊✧ ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀✧₊∘∘₊✧ ✩‧₊ ̗̀✧₊∘∘₊✧ ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀✧₊∘∘₊✧ ✩‧₊ ̗̀✧₊∘∘₊✧ ੈ✩‧₊ ̗̀✧₊∘✩ ✩‧₊ ̗̀✧₊∘∘₊✧ Plastic Potential; Boku No Hero x Barbie (2023)

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

“Hi!” you chirped while waving energetically. Your voice was sing-song and melodic with a quality that felt straight out of an commercial.

The class blinked in unison, stunned into silence by your sudden burst of enthusiasm.

Izuku’s breath hitched. His mind raced as he struggled to reconcile the figure before him with the memory of the girl he once knew from middle school.

You were...different.

Your [color] hair, a shade he remembered from middle school, now shimmered a perfect platinum blonde that cascaded in flawless waves.

Your skin glistened unnaturally, smooth and glossy under the classroom lights like plastic.

Even your now bright crystal-blue eyes felt uncanny—too perfect to be real.

The uncanny resemblance to a doll didn’t stop there.

Your movements were graceful but slightly mechanical, almost like you were mimicking a human stride.

 It reminded him of something out of a movie—like action figure toys brought to life.

And then there was your face; a dreamy smile fixed in place, pretty and cheerful, unsettlingly frozen in its perfection.

“____?” Izuku finally choked out, your name spilling from his lips in disbelief.

Bakugo, however, had no such restraint.

He shot up from his seat.  “Are you shittin’ me?!” His palms slammed a palm on the desk, fury and recognition flaring in his crimson gaze. “So they just lettin’ anybody in here now huh!”

You giggled, the sound sugary sweet and almost hypnotic. Half the class flushed as your gaze swept over them.

“Yup! Turns out I had a quirk after all,” you said brightly, beaming at the class.

“So just call me...” You twirled dramatically, your voice rising with playful confidence before striking an impossibly cute pose. “Inspirational Mattel Hero: Barbie! Because you can be anything—even a hero!”

[faerieroyal]

Hey!! May I suggest/request some headcanons of what Ken (Ryan Gosling) dating a zookeeper Barbie would include, please? Thank you!!

ooooh, yay, a request for ken, i was honestly worried i wasn’t gonna get any for him !! thank you so much, dear anon, and i really hope you like these headcanons !! <3

✩⡱ headcanons: ken (ryan gosling) x gn!zookeeper barbie!reader

(note: i am aware that technically all the barbies are ladies, but in the interest of inclusion i am keeping this gender-neutral - hope you don’t mind!!)

— in a world like barbieland, where so much is the same - the days, the weather, the outfits, the words exchanged between those who live here - you are a notable outlier.

— rather than spend your days at the beach or cruising around the pristine streets of barbieland like your barbie counterparts, you are more than content to spend all your time in barbieland's only zoo, where you work, among the animals. rather than perfectly fitting clothes in pastel colors, your wardrobe consists of a standard zookeeper uniform, beige and khaki and shorts and t-shirts, the type of clothing always ready to be stained with dirt and animal saliva even if they somehow never are.

— you're also a bit different from the other barbies, and even the kens, in terms of personality. you much prefer the company of animals, and after spending so long among them (although curiously, it has never felt like that long), you're left in a place of often not knowing how to socialize with people. the other barbies and kens are all very nice to you when they come to visit the zoo or see you in public, of course - you're not sure any of them know how not to be nice - but the fact remains: you are quiet and relatively isolated, not peppy and social like every other barbie seems to be.

— which is, perhaps, exactly what allows this particular ken to notice you.

— the two of you know each other, of course, everybody knows everybody in barbieland, but you don't have an official conversation until one day when the other barbies finally convince you to come to the beach with them.

— you’re feeling intensely awkward when you first arrive with them, an unusual sight at the beach standing there in a borrowed swimsuit, and that’s when ken first sees you.

— he originally comes up just to talk to classic barbie, but of course take a moment to say hello to all the other barbies standing with her, and it’s then that he notices you, standing there between physicist barbie and president barbie and clearly trying hard to hide how nervous you are. he doesn’t recall ever having seen you before, and given that a new barbie hasn’t appeared in barbieland in a really long time and he definitely would have known if it had happened, he’s immediately interested in who you are and what you must have been doing in order for him to have never met you before now.

— you’re the last barbie he greets, and when he hits you with his classic “hi, barbie!” and dazzling smile, all you find yourself really able to do is smile and awkwardly wave back, feeling like your face is on fire. of course, this only draws ken in more (he’s as curious as a puppy), and so he asks if you want to share a towel with him so that he can get to know you better!

— you’re a little nervous about the other barbies getting upset if you leave them, but they’re all smiles, encouraging you to go and have fun with ken if you want to (and in fact, classic barbie might even give you an extra little push towards him, happy that ken might finally have someone else to have a crush on since she doesn’t return his feelings), so you agree to the towel-sharing, face getting even hotter at how utterly excited ken looks about it.

— the two of you wind up talking for almost two hours, with ken wanting to know everything about you and asking a million questions about your animals and even promising to come to the zoo as soon as possible. he’s so invested in talking to you that even when beach ken taunts him and tries to challenge him to a volleyball match, he doesn’t accept like he normally would - which is how the other barbies realize that in such a short time, he’s already starting to develop a crush on you. (the kens, bless their hearts, take a little longer to pick up on it, but when allan lets them know they very quickly realize how obvious it is.)

— the two of you continue talking and hanging out for a few weeks, during which you even give ken a private tour of the whole zoo and allow him to help you feed the animals, which you’ve never done for anyone before. you’re not quite sure why you offer to let him help you at first, but it’s afterwards that you realize: ken’s special to you. you like him, in the way he used to like classic barbie. in a dating way.

— (even if he does keep mixing up which feeds are meant for which animals and almost gave your zebras the steaks meant for the lions. but you kind of like that he’s a little hopeless, if you’re being honest; it’s ridiculously endearing.)

— it’s about two months, while the two of you are dancing at the first party at classic barbie’s dreamhouse that you’ve ever been to, that ken eagerly asks if he can be your boyfriend. for a moment, you’re frozen in surprise - you ever actually thought he returned your feelings, even though it’s rather obvious as you actually look back - but you quickly beam back at him and, under the pink glow of the dreamhouse’s lights, give this sweet man the only answer you could ever give.

— “of course, ken. i’d love for you to be my boyfriend.”

— and as nervous as you are for the first few weeks after that, it turns out to be amazing. there isn’t even a lot of change from when the two of you were friends; you still spend the majority of your time together, and ken still follows you around like a puppy dog, always telling you about how cool he thinks you are and doing his best to help you take care of your animals (which, again, makes you feel a little bit silly for not realizing he liked you back sooner).

— one of the only differences is that now, you feel a lot less nervous about showering ken with as many compliments as he gives you; barely an hour goes by without the two of you telling each other how beautiful and amazing you find the other person. (the other barbies, for the record, find this absolutely adorable and can never keep from constantly “awww”ing when the two of you hang out with them.)

— another difference, and possibly the best one of all, is that you actually get to kiss him. your kisses normally aren’t very long, just sweet little pecks on the lips - or a flurry of little kisses all over your face when ken gets in a silly mood - but they’re always incredibly nice and leave both of you grinning from ear to ear when you pull away.

— your animals warm up to ken a lot more once the two of you start dating, too. they weren’t always the friendliest to him before, both since they’re protective of you and because he isn’t the best at caring for them, but once they realize that ken really cares about you and isn’t going to do you or them any harm, they become a lot warmer, making happy noises when he approaches and bumping their heads into his hand to demand pets even when he messes up their feeding yet again. (he even strikes up something of a friendship with amelia, one of your lionesses, and you’ve often found him just sitting in her enclosure, having a lively one-sided conversation while she rests her large head in his lap.)

— of course, the other barbies and kens (as well as allan) are very supportive of your relationship - even beach ken, as reluctant as he is to think positively of his rival, can acknowledge that you’re adorable together.

— classic barbie tells you as much one sunny day on the beach, almost exactly like the one where you and ken first met - except that this time, you’re sitting there confidently in your own swimsuit, one that you bought after ken noticed it and declared that he thought you’d look amazing in it, as you lounge on a beach chair with the other barbies and watch the kens square off against each other at the volleyball nets.

— “you know, barbie, you and ken really do make an amazing couple. i’m super happy for you guys; just because i didn’t like him as a boyfriend doesn’t mean he shouldn’t ever get to be anyone’s boyfriend, so i’m really glad he’s yours.”

— and you look over at ken, your ken, as he successfully keeps beach ken from scoring and immediately looks back at you with a big smile to see if you noticed, and you smile as bright as barbieland’s ever-shining sun.

— “me too, barbie. me too.”

barbie (2023) taglist: empty for now !

general taglist: @maddipoof, @thatmagickjuju, @talkingturnedtoscreamss, @malafvma, @auxiliarydetective, @heliads, @oneirataxia-girl !

( send me an ask if you want to be added to a taglist !! )

[creativecupcake]

Ah yes, the TWST boys having to deal with Barbie reader and their WIDE variety of careers and hobbies. Get dunked boys!

To the salon!

(Some) Twisted wonderland boys x Barbie (gn) reader.

Reader isn't based off of any specific barbie so I kept it vague. (Gn) No features are mentioned. Some are Platonic and some Romantic but you can view it either way really. These are mostly imagines? Hcs? Crack fic? idk but lemme know if I missed anything. These were pretty fun to do I might do more

Characters: Riddle, Deuce, Epel, Azul, Sebek

Transporting to a new world is something you are used to, you've been on many adventures and have gained many skills and degrees along the way that starting anew isn't a new experience. Although living in a rundown dorm isn't ideal, It just needs a little shaping! You've built stuff before you've got this. Oh but you'll need a new wardrobe too! No way can you wear one outfit all the time! I guess there's no time like the present to put them skills to use!

Riddle

• He thinks your style is cute, and admires how you always look stunning and pristine everyday without fail.

• Although you look a little TOO pristine at times, he gets confused on how you can run a mile in gym and not break a sweat, meanwhile this boy is probably gasping for air. When you explain you were an Olympic track star back in your world he has to try not to side you

• He kinda thinks your lying about your careers and all you've accomplished

• He greatly underestimates your intelligence until you barge into heartslabyul one day in your bright pink suit and a big smile on your face

  "Ace! Deuce!" You yell into the living area, the pair looking up at you from where they were studying. "Prefect, need I remind you of yelling inside?" the red head sighs. "Ah sorry sorry! I'm just so excited I had to come share!" "Is it about your trial today?" Deuce asked. "Trial....?" Riddle mumbles, slightly confused. He had no idea what you lot were talking about, but knowing you it was probably some crazy- "Yes I won my first court case today!" ......What? Court case?

"My Client was wrongfully accused of stealing and I helped them find justice! I'm so glad my skills as a lawyer can help others in this world." You boldy exclaim, chest puffing up. "Tell us all about it." Ace said turning to you fully.

Riddle sat back, tuning you all out. This boy was at a loss for words. You, a Lawyer??? How is that even possible? You're a Freshman... but Riddle recalls the time you set an Olympic World record for figure skating, and the time you hacked into a Government network using nothing but the school library computers. Maybe you being a Lawyer isn't so unrealistic after all.

Deuce

• Deuce always thought you were gorgeous and admirable, not that he would tell you that! He's too embarrassed

• It's kind of obvious though, with the way he never takes his eyes off you as you talk to him, he's got this lovesick gaze on him it makes ace roll his eyes

• Being friends with you from the beginning of the school year, he's used to you and all your skills, you still manage to surprise him from time to time though. Like creating a new life form from the potions in potionology should not be possible and yet here you are...

• Although that's what he admires about you, how you've accomplished so much at a young age. As an aspiring honor student he looks up to you. Admiration that's all it was, nothing more haha...

  When deuce got your message to come over to Ramshackle, he certainly wasn't expecting to see you arguing with a rooster and a big chicken coop in the back of the dorm. When did that even get there? "George please! just get back in the coop, everyone else listened to me!" George clucked at you, clearly not listening. "Ugh we're gonna be here forverer- Oh! Deuce you came!" You grin, diverting your eyes from the big chicken to the boy standing outside the fence. "Well don't just stand there come on in," Snapping out of his daze he goes through the fence and meets up with you. "Is this what you wanted to show me?" He asks. "Yup! I was a chicken farmer back in my world and i've just missed growing my own foods so I decided to start one here,"

You strech your arms out, signaling to the land around Ramshackle. You clasp your hands together with a soft grin on your face "I know how much you like eggs so I thought once my chickens lay some, we could make some egg dishes with it!"

   Admiration??? No no no, this boy was in Love!

Epel

• Before Epel offically met you he had seen you around, kind of hard not to with you being the most stylish person in NRC, you kinda stick out

• Although he only really got a good look at your style once he stayed at Ramshackle for the VDC.

You would come down every morning with a new oufit, hair and makeup done to a tee, he wonders if your closet is just limitless and how you have so many clothes and accessories.

• You blackmailed Crowley

• Ngl he probably thought you were one of those -prim and proper, freaks out at getting dirty- kind of person.... at first

• On the weekends when you don't have to stick around with practice, you would leave in the morning and come back later on and talk about your day at dinner, and you would always say the most insane shit Epel has ever heard in his life

"What do ya mean you discovered a new life species?" Epel glares at you from your vanity mirror. You shrug, continuing your nightly routine. Epel was sat on your bed, listening to you recount what you did today.  "Oh you should've seen it! It was a new bird species with the most gorgeous feather pattern, It took a couple of hours to find them out in the Savanna but it was so worth it." In the Savanna? You didn't look like you went to the Savanna. With your colorful outfit and perfectly manicured nails, and those glossy lips... Ugh! Epel shook his head. Just what is he thinking? But as he looks up at you, fully turned around, he can't help but notice just how stunning you really are.

Azul

• He doesn't really like you so he thinks

• But he's kinda intimidated by you, like most others in the school he underestimates you until he tried to take Ramshackle from you

• He was NOT prepared for you to list off all the shady and bordering on illegal business practices he was doing. How did you figure him out so quickly?? Did you also run a business perhaps?? the answer is yes, you do.

• You don't like his methods and try to talk to all his potential clients as you are fim beilever that if you put your mind to it, you can be anything! No need to sign away your powers or voice. Azul, clearly, does not like this and so there's just this mutual little rivalry between the two of you, although you do respect each other to some degree

Azul could feel his eye twitch, he has been going back and forth with you on this matter he's starting to falter. You two currently sat in the VIP room of the Mostro lounge. He's been trying to get you to sign this damn contract so he can take up your dorm. You, on the other hand are stubborn and refuse to give up the dorm you spent so much time renovating! He's beginning to wonder if it's even worth it at this point, maybe he can extend his business elsewhere... No! He's gotten this far he's not about to back down, but as he glances at you with your arms crossed and cute pout on your face, grim sitting next to you mimicking your stance... Azul feels as if he's gonna be here all night.

Sebek

• He didn't really think much of you for a while

• Sebek had more important things to worry about which is why he didn't pay attention to you until you pop out from behind Coach Vargas at Vargas camp, donning a military uniform and little yellow visor glasses, exclaiming how your gonna be the one in charge to whip up all those boys into shape.

• Sebek always thought he was prepared for any physical activity, after all he is a bodyguard in training.

• So imagine his surprise when your god forsaken training regimen has him fighting for air! HIM! The bodyguard to a prince! He never thought he would hate the sound of a whistle but by the seven can you stop blowing that damn thing?!?!

• Oh he needs a break...

  Sebek sat near the river, reflecting on the events of today when the sound of footsteps from behind bring him out of his thoughts. "There you are Sebek!" you exclaim, stopping right next to him. "I've been looking for you, gosh you are hard to find," He raises an eyebrow, "Looking for me?" He repeats. "Mhm! I wanted to ask you about today, Many of the other students struggled to keep up, but you were way ahead of the rest. I was curious about what you do that keeps you so fit." The half fae smirks, his already massive ego growing even more at your little observation. No way was he gonna let you know that even he had a bit of trouble with your hellish training.

"Well if you must know, I am a royal bodyguard and I must be physically fit if I am to protect my Liege." Your mouth gapes a little, "A royal bodyguard?? Wow no wonder you were able to keep up! The workouts I planned today were easier verions of the ones I gave back in my world, I wonder if I should make them even easier." You sigh, "Being a military commander isn't easy work." You nodded to yourself, currently lost in your own little world as you think of different workouts to give.

Huh???   Military commander?!

[unreasonablerobin]

HI BARBIE

Damian Al Ghul x Girly!Reader

Synopsis: Damian and his... very girly girlfriend??

W.C: 4.3K

Tags: Fluff ♡

Something was different... everyone in the manor could tell that there was something different with Damian Al Ghul Wayne.

Considering he lived in a manor full of detectives, you really wouldn't think he'd have gotten away with his secret rendezvous.

7 months ago...

It all started with Alfred noticing new smells on his clothes as he did the laundry. At first, it seemed that Damian had simply switched to a new shampoo or maybe gotten a cologne. Then, the sharp scent of cologne started to come mixed with floral. Alfred did what any good butler would do. He ignored it. If his master wanted to indulge in wearing floral scents, he wouldn't shame him for it.

Alfred wasn't the only one who noticed the change in scent, though. Dick had been messing around with Damian in the training room. They always liked a good spar with each other. Everything was going as usual until... SNIFF

"Dude, are you wearing perfume?" Dick suddenly asked as he blocked a punch from his little brother. Damian's composure faltered for just a moment before he pulled himself together, grabbing Dick and tossing him over the shoulder. The poor vigilante was too distracted by his discovery to catch himself. He fell to the floor with a thud.

"Don't be ridiculous Grayson." The boy clicked his tongue as he began to walk out of the training room.

"It's one of those Britney Spears ones, Kori has a few," Dick said more to himself than Damian as the boy was choosing to ignore him the more words tumble out of his mouth. "Hold on don't tell, is it the pink one with the little green gems on it?"

Damian had to fight back the urge to inform him that the perfume he was thinking of was called Fantasy. He'd become quite the enthusiast simply from listening to you go on about all sorts of perfumes, and other products, sat at your vanity as he admired your reflection through the mirror.

"Why do you know so much about Britney Spears perfumes Grayson?" Damian retorted.

"Cause I have a very gorgeous girlfriend, Dams. I got her the perfume for her birthday, the bottle reminded me of her." He replied a lovesick grin already forming at the thought of his alien lover. The former assassin took the opportunity to sneak out of the training room as his older brother got lost in a train of hopeless romantic thoughts over his lover.

Once he made it back to his room he sharply inhaled. Yep, it smells like your perfume. Very clearly, like you'd jumped around spraying it before sneaking out this morning. He took a handful of his shirt and lifted it to his nose. Yep, also smells like your perfume and your setting spray. If he wanted to keep your relationship hidden from his lunatic families he'd need to do a better job of covering it, he thought to himself as he began to light any scented candles he could find. An attempt to cover your traces. One of them was a gift from you, so not entirely hiding your presence.

5 months ago...

The two of you were walking through the mall. Hands intertwined and a bundle of shopping bags in his other. He'd insisted on carrying them. No matter how ridiculous he looked. It was a funny sight. His cold hard expression paired with cute bags of clothes, makeup and a Sanrio plushie peeking out from one of them.

"Are you hungry, beloved?" Damian turned his head to face you. You pondered for a moment until your stomach decided for you by making a growling sound.

"Yes..." You said slightly embarrassed. A downturned smile spread on your face.

"Where would you like to go?" You were about to respond when your phone started ringing, a cheery pop song blared from your charm-adorned handbag.

"Sorry, one sec," you reached into the bag. Shoving all sorts of things around to get to your phone. "It's my mom, you pick I'll be back in a minute!" You stepped off to the side and answered the phone.

Damian huffed at the feeling of his empty hand as he began to scan the mall food court up ahead.

'Burger King, McDonalds, Stephanie and Cass, KFC...' He paused his train of thought. Oh shit, he didn't realise Stephanie and Cass would be here and walking towards you both, unaware of your presence.

"Mom, I promised I'd be back home for dinner. 6:30, I know," You laughed at her antics before saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

You didn't get the chance to turn around as your hand was being grabbed and you were getting dragged away.

"Damian?" you looked at the boy as he swerved between the crowds. "Is everything alright?" You watched as he occasionally looked behind the two of you. Taking a small glance back you spotted two girls you recognised from a photo he'd shown you.

"Hold on, is that Damian?" Stephanie stopped Cass in her tracks and pointed ahead. Cass looked up from her milkshake and saw the head of her little brother.

"We should go say hi! Wonder what he's doing in the mall?" Stephanie had taken Cass' arm and was pulling her towards Damian, both unaware that he wasn't alone and trying to get away from them.

Damian noticed the two getting closer and took a sharp left turn into a random clothing store. He used the clothing racks to hide from the persistent girls following them.

"Why's he gone in here?" Stephanie wondered out loud. "It's a women's clothing store." Cass shrugged her shoulders as her mind went to Dick's theory on Damian trying out more feminine things, and being ashamed of it, after the perfume incident. She thought the theory was ridiculous.

Cass looked around quickly to see if the shop was even worth spending time in, but nothing was to her taste. As she scanned the store she spotted what looked to her brother... and a girl? Sneaking into the dressing rooms.

'No, it couldn't be,' Cass thought to herself watching the figure of a boy that looked exactly like her brother disappear into a dressing room with a really pretty girl. 'Could it?'

You and Damian crammed into a little dressing room with all your shopping bags.

"So..." You began, turning to the mirror to fix any out of place hairs.

"We'll have to wait a while, they are unfortunately persistent."

"How long?"

"I do not know, beloved," He shoved your shopping bags into the corner. "Longer than you'd like, I'd imagine."

You stood in silence for a moment.

"I can think of a couple ways to pass the time..." You turned away to prevent yourself from laughing at Damian's flushed face.

3 months ago...

Damian and Jason had been giving each other a hand during patrol that night. Damian was chasing some low-life thugs and they managed to slip out of his grasp and dash all the way to Crime Alley. Thankfully Jason was there and helped him catch the guys. After dealing with them Damian stood up, a vibration surged through his pocket. He reached in about to immediately hit decline. Why would he answer the phone on patrol? That's what he thought until your face graced his peripheral. He quickly turned his back towards his brother. It was a photo of you and your closets friends. (Obviously the contact picture was only focused on you). It was taken on your birthday. You were all dolled up in makeup and a gorgeous outfit you'd insisted you needed his opinion on before going out. He was about to answer when, "Who's that?" Jason called out from behind.

'Oh Shit.' Damian thought to himself. There are so many excuses to use when your brother smells your girlfriend's perfume on you, so many ways to hide from your sisters when out on a date. How does one convince Red Hood that 'Beloved <3' isn't what it looks like? That its no one special on the other end of the line?

"No one," Damian tried his luck with lying anyways. "Mind your business!" He possessively clutched the phone to his chest. Hiding the caller ID and contact photo. That was only for him to see.

Jason stared at him through his helmet, "Uh-huh, sure," Damian could feel the bullshit look on Jason's face behind the helmet. "No one at all."

"No one for you to concern yourself with Todd, mind your business." Damian stuttered out sharply before disappearing into the night. Away from prying eyes.

Jason couldn't help but grin as he watched his brother run off, phone clutched in his hand like a lifeline.

"Idiot."

Damian had perched himself on top of an apartment building. He brought his phone in front of him and called his last missed call. You. He sat in the silence of dawn, only the buzz of his voice and the tires of some earlier commuters to be heard. Until he heard the sweet voice of his favourite person.

"Hello? Damian?" God, how did your voice sound so angelic this early in the morning, through a phone speaker?

"Good morning, beloved," He sighed contently, "Apologies for not picking up when you first called I was finishing up something." He felt at peace hearing your voice and the ruffle of your bedsheets. Even if it was only through a phone and not in person. It would do.

"Oh sorry!" You whisper yelled. The sun was only rising, your family were probably still asleep. "I didn't mean to bother, we can talk la-"

"Nonsense, you are certainly not bothering me, beloved. I'm more than happy to make time for you at any hour of the day or night." He cut you off. It was silent on your end of the line for a few moments. A couple of giggles and some sheet rustling could be heard. Damian could see it in his mind you going slightly rouge and hiding your face in the pastel duvet.

"It's just," you trailed off, "I had a stupid nightmare and I couldn't go back to sleep."

"If my presence is what you seek in order to feel safe than I will always be available." You smiled at that looking out the window by your bed.

"I will be there."

"What!?" You shot up in your bed, shrinking in on yourself when you realised how loud you were being.

"Damian, there's no need-"

"Yes there is very much need," You sighed at his persistence. "You require my comfort to fall back asleep, I know how much you enjoy your weekend sleep." You fell back k down into tour bed with a smile. He was so right. You loved your weekend lie ins.

"I am finished patrol so I will make my way to you."

"Okay, I'll see you in a few, my windows open," you bit your bottom lip for a moment, hesitation filling you, "I love you." There was silence on the other end of the line until the call ended. You looked at your phone in confusion worried you'd accidentally hit the red button or if Damian had decided he actually hated you. A shadow replacing the sunrise light that had been beaming onto you stopped your train of thought. You looked up to see Robin perched on your windowsill. Strategically, as to not damage your flower boxes.

"I love you too." He whispered before he crawled through the window, landing on your bed.

2 months ago...

Damian was sat in the back of the Batcave as Bruce and Tim discussed something about an ongoing case. He was cleaning one of his katanas. Deciding it was clean enough he picked it up and set it to the side. A small sound of metal hitting metal made the two detectives perk up. The sound came again as Damian picked up another blade to clean. Tim turned his head ever so slightly to glance at the boy and in the corner of his eyes, he spotted it. A small ring on his left hand. He gave a small glance to Bruce, who was still staring at the screen before him, but he could tell the scrunch of his face wasn't from the confusion of the case. Damian completely unaware of his brother's and father's change in demeanour continued to clean his blades. The metal ring subtly caught the light as he carefully rubbed the cloth against the sharp edge of the blade. A gentle smile graced his face as he stared at the ring. His mind wandered back to the day he gave you the promise ring. He knew you'd love it but he was still so nervous. He would rather die than let anyone know that though. Little whispers snapped him out of his thoughts. Looking up he spotted Tim leaning in towards Bruce muttering something.

"Can I say something?" Tim questioned in a hushed teasing tone.

"No, you can not." Bruce sternly replied, folding his arms across his chest.

"Oh come on," Tim looked from him to his brother out of the corner of his peripheral. "You can't not be curious about what's up with him?"

Bruce gave the young detective a quick glance before returning to the screen with CCTV footage playing.

"Of course I am, but it is none of our business." He said curtly. "Damian is very capable and I trust that he is independent and mature enough to do as he pleases."

Tim sighed in response to that. He'd have to lay off on the teasing for now, but just know that when he gets a moment alone with his little brother he will become the biggest pain in the ass.

Damian couldn't help but let his smile grow back after hearing his father's words. He spun the ring around his finger for a brief moment before setting his blades aside and exiting the cave.

1 month ago...

Another rare day where you manage to spend the day in Wayne Manor. Today was much easier than all the others. Dick was in his apartment with Kori'ander, Bruce and Tim were away on company business, the girls were all out, and Jason was god knows where. You didn't really care if they were in the Manor or on the other side of the world at this moment. You were sprawled on top of your boyfriend in his bed. Nothing could possibly ruin this day for you. Your head was rested on his chest, listening to his rhythmic heartbeat. His hand held yours and the other played with the ends of your hair. You both layed in the silence of the day as you quite literally watched paint dry. Over on his desk, which was supposed to be used for homework and not art or makeup, like it you had previously been using it for. Two small paintings lay drying; one of batcow and the other of a sunset. A huff of laughter from the chest beneath you made you look up.

"What?"

"There is paint on your face, beloved."

You shot up from his body and where about to run into the bathroom. Damian gently grabbed into your face. The red paint streaks where mostly dry now so he was easily able to rub them off. Even when your face was paint free, you both sat there, your face in his hands and his thumb caressing your skin.

"You are so beautiful, Habibti." You stared with a lovestruck look right back at his lovesick one. He leaned in a little closer.

"May I?" He asked, ever the gentleman. You nodded.

He brought his lips to yours not caring about the sticky sensation of your lip gloss. You sighed into the kiss and brought your hands up to rest of his. They slid down and held onto his wrists. Neither of you would get Iver this feeling. The butterflies, your lips on eachother, the fear that enters your body when you hear a knock of the door. Oh my god. You immediately pulled away.

"Master Damian," Alfred's muffled voice came through the door. "Would like some cookies? They are freshly baked."

"No thanks, Pennyworth." Damian quickly replied. There was an uncomfortable silence for a second before-

"Would your friend like some?" Both of your eyes bulged out and your jaws dropped.

"I won't tell, no need to fret!"

You looked to Damian nervously, who nodded his head, telling you that Alfred really meant what he said.

"Yes please!" You piped up. You could smell those cookies and my god, you wanted them so bad.

"Very well, I'll prepare them and some tea." Alfred laughed before heading back to the kitchen.

Present...

Yesterday had been another one of those rare days where nobody was in the manor, so you had come over and Damian persuaded you to stay the night.

You sleepy made your way into the bathroom attached to his room. Deciding it was time to get ready for the day. Your eyes scanned the counter top covered in skincare and makeup products left here overtime by you. You couldn't help but smile thinking of all the smalls ways you two had been intertwining your life's. You had things in his place, he had things in yours, he carried hair ties for you and you carried bandages for him. It was simple and sweet. It got you thinking about why he didn't want you to meet his family as you did your skincare. He'd met yours, plenty of time at that. He'd spent the night, he'd had dinner with them, hell you're mom bought him an Easter egg! You swore up and down to yourself he didn't have any problem with you or his family. Now picking up your primer you couldn't help but be confused. Why is he so desperate to hide you and your relationship? You shook the thoughts away when you spotted your frown in the mirror, now just focusing on getting ready.

An hour had passed and Damian was awake. He could hear you in the bathroom as he rolled over in the now cold bed.

"Babe, can you help me?" You softly called out as you nudged the bathroom door open. "I can't get my earing in." You informed with you hands at your ear.

He got up from his bed a maneuvered you back into the bathroom, where the lighting was good, shutting the door behind him.

"I can't get it through, it shouldn't be closed up though!" You handed him the earing and stood beside him under the ceiling light.

He tilted your head and began what would be an annoyingly long process of trying to perform the simple task of getting a piece of metal through a hole.

Alfred was in the middle of cooking breakfast and asked Dick to go wake his brother up. Unaware that you were still here. You usually snuck out earlier but you're phone was dead when you woke up so you never checked the time.

Dick trecked up the stairs, past Jason leaving his room and towards Damian's. He softly knocked on the door before swinging it open.

"Uh, Jason?"

"What?" Jason grumbled at the end of the hallway.

"Who's phone is that?" Dick asked pointing towards a phone that definitely wasn't his brother's. Unless he'd taken a sudden liking to charms and bows.

Jason sleepy stared at Dick until the image of Damian's phone with a picture of a girl and suspicious caller ID appeared in his head. Now he was sprinting towards his brother's room.

Jason and Dick stood in the doorway examining the unknown phone plugged in and rested on the nightstand. Jason gasped and pointed at a woman's bag, say on the floor, leaning against the desk leg. Dick dramatically took hold of Jason and put a finger to his lips. He then pointed to the bathroom door.

"Damian it's fine!"

"I don't want to hurt you!"

"It's not going to hurt, babe I promise!"

A girl? Babe!?

This had Dick and Jason turning to eachother, shock written all over their faces as they sprinted to the stairs.

Bruce, Tim, Stephanie and Cass were all sat at the dining table. Bruce was reading the newspaper, Tim was chugging a coffee, Stephanie was talking to Cass while they waited for the other three boys. Same as every morning. At least it was, until-

"Damian has a girlfriend!" Dick shouted like he was the final girl just after discovering who the killer was.

"She's upstairs!" Jason skidded into the kitchen behind him.

Alfred froze, as he watched Tim and Stephanie sprint faster than he'd ever seen before. Dick and Jason following right behind them. Cass subtly followed. She didn't want to be nosy but... she needed to know! Her suspicions were driving her crazy ever since the mall. Bruce sighed, folding up the newspaper and setting it down before heading up to Damian's room as he heard screaming.

You were mortified. Six people just barged into the room and saw you in your pyjamas; your underwear and one of Damian's shirts. You screamed and immediately bolted back into the bathroom. You were panicking. Damian didn't want you to meet his family and you just did it in the worst way possible. Half naked and screaming. What a way to meet the future in-laws. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you slid to the floor. Atleast your hair and makeup look good.

"Drake, what the fuck!?" Damian yelled.

"Hold on, why am I the only one getting yelled at?" Tim retorted.

Stephanie nudged his shoulder. "You scared her stupid!"

"We barged in at the same time!"

"You're a guy!"

Damian stood there with a frustrated expression watching Tim and Stephanie bicker and the rest of his family pile in. Cass's small smile at him help him relax a little, but only a little. And just for a moment, cause then Dick and Jason piped up.

"So..." Dick began. "Who is she?"

"None of your business."

"That's what you told me when someone named 'beloved' called you on patrol." Jason chimed in with a teasing tone. Damian could only stare at more frustration than before. His cheeks began to flush and that just passed him off more. Stephanie wasn't helping with her "awww's in the background. Damian was about to scream for them to all get out, get physical with Tim if he needed to.

“Damian.”

Everyone turned towards the stern, deep voice in the doorway. Bruce stepped forward to his youngest son.

"Father," Damian started a tangent before Bruce even had a chance to say anything more. "Her name is Y/n. We have been dating for 8 months, and I love her. No matter your approval or disapproval I will continue to see her." Damian informed his father in a stern and determined tone.

“If it’s alright with you I would like to meet her. Properly.” He requested. “I believe the rest would also like to meet her.” Damian didn’t know how to respond. He thought his father would have a bigger reaction to lying and sneaking around with a girl. Especially considering the occupations of everyone present.

“Of course only if she’s alright with it as well.” Bruce added with a light smile.

"Allow me to check." Bruce ushered all of his children out of the young boy's room.

Once they’d all left he slid into the bathroom where you were still sat on the floor.

“Habitat,” he called out softly. “We don’t have to go down there if you don’t want to.” He knelt in front of you.

“No! I want to, I’d love to meet your family.” You countered quickly. “Only if that’s okay with you, I don’t want to overstep.”

“Whatever you want, beloved.” He said with a smile identical to his father’s.

You were now dressed and sat beside Damian at the Wayne dining table. All of the Wayne's were staring at you. It wasn't daggers or disgust. You'd figured it was curiosity.

"How the hell did you even meet?" Jason asked the first question.

"School." Damian answered coldly.

"No offence, but I didn't expect you to end up with someone so..." Dick trailed off as he swung is fork around as if it would conjure up the words he wad looking for.

"Girly?" You suggested. "I get it, you probably thought he'd end up with someone like yourselves."

Everyone at the table felt a bead of sweat drop from their foreheads.

"What?" Stephanie asked with a nervous laugh.

"She knows." They all snapped their necks to look at Damian and then their father at the head of the table.

He sighed, "Damian I trust that you thought about all this before giving us away?"

"Of course I did. Do not suggest that they are not trustworthy." Bruce and Damian had a bit of a stare off. While that was happening Stepahine had kicked Tim out of his chair beside you.

"You're hair is so gorgeous! What do you use?" She asked as she held a strand in her palm.

"Oh, I cannot think of the name! But there's some up in Damian's bathroom, I'll show it to you."

Dick leaned over the table, "I thought I was going crazy when I started smelling perfumes off him!" You laughed at his comment.

"What do you use? It smells similar to the one Kori uses."

You began to chat with the vigilantes about all sorts of things. Telling Cass and Stephanie about the products you use and where you shop, listening to stories about Dick and Kori. Jason chimed in with a few book recommendations and reviews after learning you like to read. Quickly you found yourself having conversations with all the Waynes like it was as easy as breathing. As you were laughing at some Internet joke you and Tim were discussing, you spotted a poute on your boyfriend's face. And it finally clicked.

Damian Al Ghul was jealous of his own family.

He kept your relationship a secret and avoided introducing you for so long because he didn't want them to steal your attention.

You couldn't help but smile at that.

A/N: First piece published!! I welcome back feedback with open arms. Please just don't take this opportunity to be rude. I'd love to know if I write ooc or if my grammars incorrect, ect.

Shout out to Damian Al Ghul my gatekeeping king🙏

[dollbrbie]

boyfriend!gojo absolutely adores how girly you are, loving the hyper feminine look you have.

he loves being the one to buy your expensive makeup, your pretty skirts and crop tops that definitely show a little too much cleavage just for him to ogle at.

even watching you apply your makeup, watching you paint your eyes with liner and apply pink blush to your cheeks with a smile before finally applying your sparkly lipgloss has him so impressed.

he wonders sometimes how he bagged such a pretty girl, resting his palm on his cheek as he admires you with a small smile on his lips.

and you can be sweet like candy, thanking him for all the expensive gifts with a kiss as you leave a pink kiss mark on his cheek while gojo wears it like a badge of honour.

however, he can’t deny the bitchy attitude you have that gojo feels the need to fix as he watches the way you roll your eyes as him and the way you huff with crossed arms.

and those bitchy, mean comments. those are what set him off the most. it gets his cock twitching when you insult him, something he realised he lowkey got off on - but he can’t let you know that!

so instead, he’ll have you laid beneath him completely bare as you whimper out from gojo’s cock abusing your gummy walls, sweet yet mocking praises coming from his lips.

he loves fucking the attitude out of you, smiling at how quick you drop the bitchy comments and how your eye rolls from earlier turn into ones of pleasure.

but, gojo can be a little cruel. he never lets you cum when you want to, making you wait and wait until your eyes are brimming with tears and your legs are shaking uncontrollably beneath him, causing gojo to chuckle at your pleading figure.

“please, baby.. m’ sorry, just wanna cum..”, you beg, your orgasm ruined again by your boyfriend who’s just so clearly enjoying himself.

“but you were just so mean to me today, i’m not sure if you deserve it yet.”, he hums to himself, pretending to think as he looks down at your trembling form and almost feeling bad for you but gojo knows you secretly enjoy this, that you crave it.

but, don’t worry. after a while your boyfriend will reward you with countless orgasms that same night for being so good for him and taking your punishment like a champ, later kissing your forehead as he wipes away your tears of pleasure and looking at your ruined makeup.

god, you love how your sweet boyfriend tames the brat in you, all while tending the the rest of your spoilt needs.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[shari-berri]

Ken would 110% say “This one’s for you Barbie”, shoot the basketball, and end up knocking himself out somehow

[yandere-wishes]

Normal People: "Why did u start writing Yandere content?"

Most Yandere Authors: "I wanted to express my dark desire for a forbidden romance through a creative medium. Forgoing social norms to create a love that is most cruel yet utterly true. To appease the lethal love that lays dormant within my bones, rattling me with its yearning for freedom. To show the world a love that is hideous, dangerous, yet wholly profuse. The sort of love only found under a moonless sky. A romance that can kill and heal with the same hand. To fashion ballads of broken hearts and damaged minds trapped in a waltz of shimmering hearts."

Me: I want to get kidnapped so I won't have any responsibilities.

[inlovewithl3vi]

I think it would be hilarious if MC was home in the human realm and just saw Barbados in their kitchen randomly. Like the MC just woke up and they smell breakfast being made in their kitchen. And of course they’re like “wtf who’s in my house?” Until they walk out and see Barbados cooking for them and he’s just like “oh! good morning MC I hope you don’t mind me coming to make you food, it’s one of the rare days I don’t have to do my morning duties at the castle” (he didn’t actually have nothing to do, he finished all his work early so he can come visit since he missed you)

[ramen-flavored]

my dude is getting Barbie Dolls and a Star

[newobsessionweekly]

Aftershock: Bradford's Barbie

Main Masterlist | The Rookie Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Tim Bradford x younger!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: You and Tim are not dating. But also aren't not dating. Until he pulls back, you shut down and every feeling comes crashing down on you both.

Angst to fluff

Warnings: description of gunshots maybe? not proofread yet

Words: -

It didn’t start with fireworks. Or candlelight. Or anything remotely poetic.

It started with a crash.

Not the earthquake kind, not this time. Just you—exhausted, makeup smudged, hair in a bun that had declared war hours ago—falling asleep on his couch after a late-night takeout run and a shared bottle of whiskey neither of you meant to finish.

You woke up tangled in his arms. The next morning, you told yourself it was a one-time thing.

It wasn’t.

Somehow, in between shifts and field assignments, takeout orders and inside jokes, it became a routine. Your body in his bed. His scent on your clothes. His lips on your skin, hot and heavy in the silence after dark. And, weirdly, you slept better at his place. He did too, not that he ever said it out loud.

You weren’t dating.

You weren’t not dating, either.

Tim called it “convenient.” You called it “friends with benefits.” Lucy called it “a catastrophe waiting to happen,” though she didn’t know the half of it.

Because somewhere between him calling you a menace and you calling him a fossil—somewhere between him brushing your hair off your face and you learning how he liked his coffee—you started catching feelings.

Like a dumbass.

And the worst part? You didn’t even mean to. It just… happened. The way feelings do. Quiet at first, like a hairline crack. Then spreading, splitting, splitting, splitting.

Until something inside you started to break.

You told him once.

Sort of.

A few weeks ago, lying in his bed with your cheek pressed to his chest, you’d murmured something dumb and sleepy like, “I think you like me, Bradford.”

He hadn’t laughed. He hadn’t kissed you either.

He’d just gone still.

“Don’t make this complicated,” he’d said finally, voice low. “It’s already risky. You’re… you’re too young. This thing is just for fun. Let’s not pretend it’s more than it is.”

And like a fool, you nodded.

You told yourself you could deal with it.

But here you are, two months later, being reckless all over again.

Because now, thanks to a shiny new contract between LAPD and your father’s construction firm, you’re officially partnered with none other than Timothy “Emotionally Constipated” Bradford.

You might’ve pulled a few strings. Okay, a lot of strings. But in your defense, it was the perfect setup: a project pairing cops with civil engineers to evaluate post-quake building damage. Everyone wins. Especially you.

Except you forgot one detail.

You’re still in love with him.

And he still thinks you’re a goddamn risk.

You’re halfway through assessing a condemned strip mall in East Hollywood when it all goes to hell.

The street’s quiet, a little too quiet, the kind of quiet that prickles under your skin. Tim’s beside you, hand on his vest, eyes scanning every window and alley like he’s waiting for something to jump.

You’re marking a crumbling doorway with bright red chalk when it happens.

A pop.

Then another.

Gunfire.

You drop instantly, instincts kicking in, but not before Tim grabs your shoulder and yanks you behind the rusted frame of a dumpster. His body covers yours, warm and solid, one arm braced against the metal and the other curled around your waist.

“Stay down,” he growls, eyes blazing.

Your heart is beating in your ears, faster than it should. Too fast. His breath is hot on your cheek. His chest rises and falls against your back, firm and steady, while yours feels like it might explode.

And all you can think is: this isn’t casual. This isn’t just “fun.”

This is him shielding you like he’d die for you.

When it’s over—when backup arrives, when the scene clears, when the world rights itself again—you’re sitting on the tailgate of an LAPD shop with an ice pack pressed to your knee and a very pissed-off Tim looming over you.

“You okay?” he asks. The words are tight. Controlled. But his hand won’t stop gripping your thigh.

“I’m good,” you reply lightly. “But damn, Bradford. You almost made me think you caught feelings.”

His jaw ticks. “Don’t.”

“What? Can’t a girl joke around with her—what are we again? Bed buddies?”

He doesn’t answer. Just steps back like your words physically burned him.

You wait for him to say something—anything. But all you get is silence. His walls are up again. Brick by goddamn brick.

You nod, lips tightening.

“Got it.”

You stop texting him after that.

No goodnight emojis. No sarcastic memes. No more midnight rides to each other’s places. You pull out. Clean cut. No drama.

You tell yourself it’s the right thing. The smart thing.

You also start sleeping like crap again.

You expect him to call.

He doesn’t.

You expect him to knock on your door like he always does when things go sideways. Show up with a six-pack and that dumb grumpy look he pretends isn’t fond.

He doesn’t.

Instead, silence.

You last three days before deleting his name from your favorites. Five days before you fold the hoodie he left behind and tuck it in a drawer. Nine before you hear through one of the engineers that he requested a reassignment. A new partner.

The hurt isn’t new.

You just didn’t expect it to land like this. Like a slow tear in your chest every time you turn a corner expecting to see him, but don’t.

Tim is worse.

He doesn’t talk about it. Not to Lucy. Not to Thorsen. Not to Lopez. He just… broods.

He snaps faster. His fuse is shorter. He works more shifts, runs more drills, volunteers for the worst hours.

Lucy notices.

Of course she notices.

“You’ve been insufferable lately,” she says one day while they’re stuck in the locker room post-shift, both drenched in sweat and sun. “Worse than usual.”

Tim grunts, slamming his locker shut harder than necessary. “Just tired.”

“Bullshit.”

He shoots her a look, but she doesn’t back off.

“Is this about her?” Lucy asks casually. Too casually.

Tim stiffens. “What?”

“The blonde. Barbie. Earthquake Barbie. Whatever nickname you gave her in your grumpy little brain.”

Tim says nothing. Just pulls his shirt over his head like the conversation’s over.

It isn’t.

Lucy leans against the row of lockers, arms crossed. “Look, I didn’t want to get involved, but you’re spiraling. And when Tim Bradford spirals, people start punching walls and doing push-ups until their triceps cry for help.”

Tim’s voice is low. “She’s fine.”

“She’s not talking to you.”

“She doesn’t have to.”

Lucy raises an eyebrow. “So you were hooking up.”

He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t even flinch.

Lucy whistles. “Damn. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Tim exhales slowly, resting his forehead against the cool metal. “It wasn’t supposed to be anything.”

“But?”

He hesitates.

Lucy watches him carefully. “But?”

“I don’t know,” he says finally. “She got under my skin.”

Lucy nods. “Yeah. That tends to happen when you’re in love.”

Tim turns to her, eyes flinty. “It wasn’t love.”

“Sure.”

“She’s almost twenty years younger than me.”

“And?”

“She’s reckless. She pulled strings to partner with me.”

“She also stood her ground during a live gunfire incident and patched your hand when you busted your knuckles punching a brick wall.”

Tim doesn’t respond.

Lucy softens. “Look. I don’t know what happened between you two. But I’ve known you long enough to know when someone’s got you twisted in knots. Go to her. Fix it.”

It takes him until midnight.

You’re not surprised when he knocks.

You hear the heavy sound of his boots on the hallway first—then the pause, then the knock. He doesn’t knock like a neighbor. He knocks like someone who built you into his routine and doesn’t know how to function without it.

But you don’t answer.

You sit cross-legged on the couch, hoodie pulled over your knees, and sip from a lukewarm mug of tea you don’t even like.

You hear the second knock. Then his sigh. Then silence.

“I know you’re there,” he says through the door, voice low and rough. “You’re loud in heels. But I swear—you’re louder barefoot.”

Your heart stutters.

You stay quiet.

He exhales, palm pressing to the door.

“I didn’t mean to push you away.”

You roll your eyes. “You didn’t push me away, Bradford. You made it very clear where I stand. Or don’t stand.”

He laughs, but it’s bitter. “Yeah. I’m a dumbass.”

You don’t deny it.

Tim leans closer. “I just… I didn’t want to ruin what we had. And I thought keeping it casual would keep it safe.”

You raise an eyebrow even though he can’t see it. “Casual? You kissed my shoulder when you thought I was asleep. You stocked your fridge with my favorite iced coffee.”

Silence.

“Casual my ass,” you mutter.

You still don’t open the door. You hear his exhale through the wood.

“I didn’t mean that,” he says, quieter this time. “You know I didn’t.”

You hate that his voice still does that to you. That low rumble laced with something vulnerable. Something only you ever get from him—when no one’s watching. Not Lucy. Not his team. Not his goddamn conscience.

“You said I wasn’t worth the risk,” you remind him, because he needs to hear it. Needs to sit with the way it burned through you like acid.

A pause.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

Silence.

You wait. The kind of silence where seconds stretch until they feel like bruises. He doesn’t answer, and that tells you enough.

You move to the door, pressing your back against it, still not ready to open it. “Go home, Tim.”

“I am home,” he says softly, and fuck. Fuck him for saying that.

The ache spreads. It’s not even anger anymore. It’s that thing you hate admitting even to yourself. Longing.

You press your palms to your eyes. “You don’t get to say that.”

Another pause.

“Okay. Fine. You won’t talk to me?”

You don’t answer. You don’t have to.

He must hear the way your breath hitches through the door, because his next words come sharp.

“Then I’ll make you talk.”

The knock stops. The silence twists.

Then the click of the door handle turning, slow—because you forgot to lock it. You never lock it when you expect him.

The door opens, and there he is.

Post-shift, tired eyes, hand still on the doorknob like he’s giving you one last second to throw him out.

You don’t.

He steps in and shuts the door behind him.

You’re still in your hoodie, hair up in that messy knot he always said made you look like you “tried not to look hot,” and failed.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Just drinks you in. Quiet, serious, unreadable. Then, in three strides, he’s in front of you, his hand tilting your chin up.

“I fucked up.”

You blink. “You think?”

He doesn’t smile. He just leans in—closer than he’s let himself in weeks.

“Say something.”

You don’t. You won’t.

So he does what Tim Bradford always does when he’s cornered by emotion—

He acts.

His lips crash into yours before you can say another word. It’s not soft. It’s not gentle. It’s desperate. Like he’s trying to apologize with every breath he pulls from you.

Your hands fist in his shirt before your brain catches up. Before your heart can argue. Because you’ve missed this. Him. The heat. The feel of his body like a shield and a furnace all at once.

He pulls back just far enough to murmur, “You’re mine.”

You open your mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to fall apart—but he kisses you again before the words come.

“Say it,” he breathes against your skin, kissing down your jaw. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you whisper, dazed, breathless, undone. “And you’re mine as well.”

His hands tighten around your waist, like he’s trying to ground himself to the words. Like you’ve said something dangerous, holy.

“I’ve been yours,” he says hoarsely, “since the moment I met you, Barbie doll.”

Your knees nearly give out.

He lifts you—effortlessly—and carries you to the couch, laying you down like you’re something fragile and irreplaceable.

This isn’t just sex anymore.

This is everything that’s been building. All the friction, the denial, the tension that snapped the moment he let himself feel.

The hoodie is the first thing to go. His hands slow, reverent. Like he’s memorizing the shape of you.

He kisses your chest, your neck, your mouth again. “I don’t care about the age gap,” he murmurs. “Or the job. Or the risk. I care about you.”

You close your eyes and arch into him. He’s not just making love to you. He’s choosing you. Out loud. Without hesitation.

And the best part is—you’re finally choosing him back.

The next morning, sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a warm glow over the room. You stir, feeling the steady rhythm of Tim’s heartbeat beneath your cheek.

“Morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

You look up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. “Morning.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face. “So, does this mean we’re official or something?”

You chuckle. “I think last night made that pretty clear.”

He grins, pulling you closer. “Good. Because I don’t plan on letting you go.”

You nestle into his embrace, feeling a sense of contentment you hadn’t known you were missing.

And in that moment, everything feels right.

[emlynnnnn]

ODD ONE OUT — .5

gosling!ken x barbie!reader

summary | You and Allan need to have a talk. Ken brings you your first flower.

part one , part two , part three , part four , part five

. . .

“WE need to talk,” Came the simple demand from your best friend, Allan, after he had stormed into your book shop one afternoon.

You looked up at him curiously before hesitantly closing over the novel in your hands, slipping it under the register like you always did whenever someone came into the shop to bother you for something—most cases being for a book, of course.

“Yes?” You answered with a raise of your brow, clasping your fingers together patiently as you waited for Allan to explain.

He huffed dramatically before crossing his arms, practically glaring down at you. “You need to stop hanging around Ken,” He stated.

You almost choked on air at the sudden request. “I’m sorry; what?” You managed to respond after getting over your original shock.

“Barbie…” Allen began with a sympathetic glint in his eye. “You’re only gonna end up getting hurt if you keep up this friendship with him,” He explained, confusing you further.

“Allan, I have absolutely no idea what you’re trying to tell me here,” You spoke dryly, not being very amused by his initial proposal of dropping one of your good friends.

Your friend rose a palm to his head, dragging it down his face tiredly at your ignorance to what was obvious to himself. “You’re in love with him!” He exclaimed. “You’re hopelessly in love with him and he can’t return those feelings because he’s hopelessly in love with his own Barbie!”

In all honesty, you hadn’t expected that outburst at all. You felt your face burst into a bright red at the sudden confrontation of your otherwise ignored feelings for Ken along with some hurt that trickled its way into your chest over the honest brutality of Allan’s words.

“Not cool,” You spat, pushing yourself up from the chair behind the register to face your friend with a fiery scowl.

“Barbie, I had to be realistic with you,” Allan looked at you desperately. “I’ve watched you the last few months get progressively more upset over this Ken and I just cannot stand it anymore. As your best friend and your brother from another mother, I’m telling you to leave this friendship behind.”

You stared at Allan blankly for a few moments before furiously shaking your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Al,” You scoffed. “I’m perfectly okay—and I’m not in love with him.”

“I’m your best friend, not blind,” He remarked with a roll of his eye. “If what you feel for him isn’t love, then I clearly hate volleyball.”

You tried to hold in the giggle at his remark, wanting to stay mad at Allan for being so blunt with you—and frankly, for hurting your feelings.

“Please leave my shop, Allan. I don’t want to have this conversation,” You mumbled as you disappeared behind one of your many bookshelves, desperately trying to hide from the situation.

Of course, however, your best friend was quite determined to make his point as he followed you in through the maze of shelves. “I’m serious, Barbie!” He hissed, crossing his arms across his chest with a fiery look on his face. “It’s killing me; seeing you hurt yourself over caring for this guy.”

You grind your teeth in your mouth, taking a deep breath through your nose before slowly turning to face Allan once again. “And I’m serious—I would like you to drop this conversation,” You spoke firmly. “Regardless of what you think about the situation, at the end of the day Ken is my friend and I won’t be dropping him—”

The ringing of the bell over the front door stopped your conversation in its tracks, forcing you to speedily walk back behind the register to tend to whatever customer had just walked in.

“Oh! Ken!” You looked at him in surprise. Of course he would have perfect timing. “What can I do for you?” You asked through grated teeth, desperately trying to give Allan a look to tell him to get out after he had appeared from behind the shelves you had just left behind.

“Just the usual, please. What book do you have for me this week?” Ken asked excitedly as he put last week’s book on the counter to return. “And I have this…” He sent you a charming grin before revealing the hand he had hidden behind his back, holding a tall and healthy sunflower out for you to take.

You gasped, your eyes taking in the ring of bright yellow petals. “Ken! What—?”

“I seen it in the flower shop and I thought of you… Sunflowers just fit your vibe,” He explained sheepishly as you took the stem into your own hands, the tips of his ears turning a bright red.

“I… I don’t even know what to say, Ken… It’s beautiful,” You looked up at him radiantly, your whole face lifted up with the smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you.”

Behind Ken, you hadn’t noticed the disappointed Allan as he trudged his way out of the shop to leave you both be—his whole argument was already forgotten in your mind, so what was the point?

. . .

“KEN?” You questioned from behind your front door, tiredly rubbing your heavy eyes after answering the knock of the door in your pyjamas. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I had to talk to you about this book, Barbie! It’s so fascinating… I couldn’t go to sleep without talking to someone about it, and backflip Ken told me to buzz off, and I usually talk to him about the books I read, but—”

“Okay. Pause,” You cut his rambling off by raising a hand up to his face, letting out a quiet yawn. “You do realise how late it is, right?”

Ken’s face suddenly dropped. “Shoot… Is it really that late?” He asked worriedly. “I hadn’t noticed… I was reading.”

You couldn’t help the smile that grew across your mouth, admiring that he had picked up a habit you yourself had as a reader. “Yes, it’s quite late,” You nodded before noticing that Ken was ready to suggest he should leave. “Come inside,” You quickly cut in, stepping aside for your friend to enter you house.

Ken took a moment to look surprised before making his way into your dream house, looking around curiously—he hadn’t actually been inside before. He quietly admired the fairy lights that lined your walls along with the aesthetically messy assortment of book and film posters. “Wow, it’s so…”

You couldn’t help the cringe that grew on your face, scrunching your shoulders after realising that you had just invited him into your cluttered home. “Messy, I know—”

“What? No. I was gonna say it’s so you,” He shook his head approaching your wall to take a closer look at one of your movie posters. “It’s so awesome.” There was a moment of silence. “I’ve never been inside a dream house…”

You felt quite horrified at this statement—he’d never been inside a house before. “Oh…” You replied stupidly, not being entirely sure what to say in response to that bomb of information. “Well, uh… let yourself get comfortable. Want a drink?” You asked awkwardly, pulling on the hem of your fluffy white pyjama sleeve.

Ken cleared his throat before nodding. “Yes please—just a drink of water.”

You quickly ran to your kitchen, grabbing one of your pink cups before “filling it” with water and handing it back to your friend who gratefully took a “sip”.

“So… Has Barbie really never invited you into her house?” You asked curiously, sitting beside Ken on your sofa.

He shook his head solemnly. “No, she’s always busy when I ask to visit,” He shrugged.

You nodded hesitantly, knowing that was probably a lie being a friend of Barbie’s and all. By all means, Barbie didn’t owe Ken any right into her home if she didn’t want him, but you had assumed that they were friendly enough for visits… Maybe their relationship was purely reliant on Ken’s pining?

“Right,” You nodded. “Well, you can always come visit me at my dream house,” You shrugged, leaning back on the soft cushions on your sofa. “I enjoy the company.”

Ken’s cheeks flushed a soft pink at the invite, not being entirely sure what to do with it but feeling elated nonetheless. “Sick,” He brushed off coolly, crossing his arms over his chest as he also sat back against your sofa to get comfortable.

“Well then, what did you want to talk about with the book?” You eventually asked, referring back to the whole reason he had arrived at your doorstep in the middle of the night.

. . .

RAYS of light refracted through the glass and around the room, annoyingly shining right onto your eyes and waking you up. You stretched your arms and gracefully rose from your place of rest, which you quickly noted was your sofa, and remembered that you had a guest over.

You glanced over to your side where Ken was curled up into a comfortable ball on the other side of the sofa, making you chuckle quietly before reaching over to gently shake him awake.

“Huh…?” He mumbled, still half asleep, before shooting up and frantically looking around. “I fell asleep! Oh gosh, Barbie, I’m so sorry! That was a mistake,” He rushed, jumping up off of the sofa and making you flinch from the sudden movement.

You furrowed your brows. “You’re fine, Ken. Allan stays over all the time,” You explained.

Ken shook his head. “No, no… Staying over is for boyfriend-girlfriend, and I’m stabbing Allan in the back by doing this because we’re not boyfriend-girlfriend!” He shrieked dramatically, pacing around your living room.

You ignored the pang in your chest over his words and decided to focus on the middle part of his outburst, shaking your head with a chuckle. “Do you think Allan and I are boyfriend and girlfriend?” You hid your grin behind your hand. “Because we’re not, and it’s normal for friends to have sleepovers. You do it with the other Ken’s all the time, right?”

“That’s not the same. We all live on beach together,” Ken stared at you flatly, raising an amused brow as he looked down at you with his hands resting on his hips.

You rolled your eyes before pushing yourself up off of the sofa. “Regardless, it’s normal for friends to sleep over,” You continued, walking past Ken. “Do you want some cereal? I can’t cook you eggs or anything because I need to buy more food from grocer Barbie…” You mumbled to yourself.

Ken shook his head, looking awkwardly tense as he continued to stand in the middle of the room. Clearly, you weren’t going to be able to sway him on the whole “sleepovers are normal” topic.

“I guess I should go,” He scratched his neck.

You sighed, nodding your head understandingly before leading the blond man to your front door. “You’re welcome here anytime, Ken,” You pursed your lips up at him as he stopped in your doorframe, looking down at you thoughtfully before pulling you in for a quick hug.

“Thank’s for having me over, Barbie!” He thanked you cheerfully, already gone back to his normal self—it was bizarre how quickly he had switched from being frantic to merry.

You waved your friend off as he strolled down the street and out of sight, spotting one of your neighbours, doctor Barbie, giving you an odd look. “Hi Barbie!” You sent her a wave, gritting your teeth together for as genuine of a smile you could muster. This was slightly awkward—she had caught Ken leaving your house.

She sent you back a rather confused greeting before getting into her own car and driving off, leaving you behind as you let out a sigh of relief and walked back into your home.

. . .

—> part six

. . .

[boypied]

himbo!ken is absolutely obsessed with you and your love for his muscles. The way you'd do anything he asked of you if he just subtly flexed his biceps, sometimes Ken does it intentionally, but sometimes it's just like a reflex. “You like that baby?” he mumbles out quietly in your ear as your hands grope across his arm, feeling his bicep bulge between your grasp. “I love you.” You mumble back as you trail kisses along his bicep as he chuckles as it tickles slightly.

“You're such a himbo.” You say with a smirk on your face, and Ken's face contorts with confusion. He shrugs off your comment that he didn't really understand but doesn't care that much as he throws his head back, feeling your lips part and suck on his bulging arms, leaving a love-bite. Your hands trail up his body to push open his denim jacket as you feel his perfectly sculpted abs, your eyes flutter back just from the feeling of your fingers dipping in and out of each crevice.

Himbo Ken will always put your pleasure first. Watching your eyes roll back and body quiver in intensive pleasure is what he needs to get off. He loves watching you ride him. That is his utmost favourite sex position that you both do together. Ken loves watching your cock flop around while it's at its hardest state. Another thing that he loves about you riding him is that you always, ALWAYS cum hands free. Squriting your load all over his beautifully sculpted body.

Ken knows that you're the love of his life, he knows that he won't ever find anyone better than you. You're the full package that he needs; perfect boyfriend, perfect in sex, you both have a lot in common. A lot of people wouldn't expect someone like yourself would end up with the sexiest himbo known to man. “I'm just Ken.” he says to you confidently and you just smirk because of how often he says this, you don't comment on it though because he tends to repeat himself without actually realising it.

[lavshaze]

🖤 | Terrible thing

✧ contains ⤐ SMUT. dirt and filth. oral, missionary, doggy in front of a mirror. very brief mention of a breeding kink. also very brief reference to cannibalism bc im into the artistic image it creates. title is a reference to the song by AG because I'm obsessed with that song, and with silco. oh and lethal levels of yearning but yk, that's the usual. based on a real true story! w.c ~ 2.6k

Ao3 version | part 2 | collective works

You remember how he tastes. 

The feeling of him in your mouth— warm, sweet, and entirely unexpected of someone like Silco, who's all jagged teeth and rough angles. 

You remember gazing up at him through your lashes, fingers eagerly digging into his thighs as you wait for him to open his mouth and say something— praise your performance, degrade you for being so desperate to have him that you'd get on your knees in his office, call you a filthy whore for the behavior you've been exhibiting, for acting like a bitch in heat— anything in the sonorous tone that you’ve grown accustomed to. 

But nothing comes out of his mouth. 

Instead, you blink and find yourself in a new location. One where he's on top of you taking you at an agonizingly slow pace. You're on his bed now, sinking under his weight into plush crimson sheets; the questions you had a second ago melt on your tongue when he digs himself deeper into you, erasing any coherent thought from your head.

He fucks you into the bed with a passion that you have only dreamt of finding in other men you’ve taken to bed. He splits you open at the center, keeping your legs wrapped around him securely, and stitches you together with every deep slow thrust. He buries his head into your neck, hot breath over your skin as his teeth sink into the junction of your neck and shoulder. The moan that escapes your mouth is intensified when his long lithe fingers dig into your hips, making sure to leave dark, blossoming bruises to match the ones on your neck. The thought of admiring all these marks later makes your heart beat erratically in your ribcage. 

Yeah, that's more like the Silco you know. 

Your vision blurs as you reach up to thread your fingers through his unkempt hair, so different from his usual look. Despite the slow pace, you find yourself inching closer to your release, body hungrily clenching around his length. The heat of his body and the slow languid motion of his thrusts plants a sort of heavy yearning in your heaving chest, a hunger that grows every time he’s deep inside. You want to hold onto him forever, cage him in your arms, hold him against your chest as you come undone under his ruthlessness. You want to reach out and dig your teeth into his flesh, take a part of him and keep it to yourself.  

The moment feels too short. It feels too long. You can't tell where he ends and you begin. 

His scent heightens your senses, the characteristic dark musk mixing with cigar smoke, as you find yourself drawing closer to the edge. This is something holy, something sacred, something you’ll be praying to for a tremendously long time. His hips snap against yours in a particularly brutal thrust and a devastating noise escapes you, akin to a warning. He pulls back from his attack on your neck to watch, to observe with eager eyes— dark and wide, pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen— as you fall apart under him. 

Despite him blowing into you like a shimmer addict, the desire in your body isn't fully sated yet. 

You’re just as hungry for him as you were when you kneeled down in front of his office chair and hurriedly unbuttoned the pants holding the cure to all your late night problems. The need to see more of him lands the two of you in front of his vanity; the mirror you imagine he adjusts himself in every morning now reflects the sight of your naked bodies, giving you a perfect view of all the bruises he’s been littering your body with. Pliable under his touch, your body aches deliciously as he enters you, a firm arm on your waist holding you back from toppling over. The sensation still feels new, the ache in your chest reinvents itself over and over again. 

In this room, it feels like only the two of you exist, and all you have to care about is how he feels. 

How does he feel? 

He handles your body so recklessly and yet with so much love, bending you in whichever way he likes and taking you as deep as he can go. You give yourself to him readily as you watch his face in the mirror, aquamarine and hellfire orange merging to touch the deepest part of your soul while his cock does the work to reach the deepest part of your body. 

He wraps his other arm around your waist and kisses your neck, almost like he's apologizing for the bruises he left earlier— warm, wet tongue soothing the ache of the newest ones. 

You admire how he looks in the reflection, nose buried in your neck like he’s finding a lost part of himself in your body, like he wouldn’t mind getting on his knees and worshipping you. 

Your eyes move down to observe your own body. It responds so steadily to his touch, moving and changing every time he thrusts forward, if it weren't for his tight grip on your waist and the possessive hold he has on you, you'd be up against the mirror. You wouldn’t mind that if it meant he got to feel you deeper. But you focus on your appearance, on your breasts, on your chest and the heaving thrum of your heartbeat, on all the imperfections you thought would bother you forever. The dip of your hips, the stretch marks that decorate your body, the fat of your stomach that Silco holds so possessively. 

Were you always this perfect? 

The thought is so erotic, it makes you want to lean in and kiss the mirror, press your bare tits to the cold glass and create a mark for everyone who comes into his room to see. For everyone to know that he bent you over the vanity and fucked you until you saw stars and could only utter his name. It makes you want to turn around and kiss Silco, make him feel the same appreciation that he works so hard to fuck into you. 

The man in question lifts his head and your breath hitches when your eyes meet in the reflection. Countless people have gazed into his eyes in fear, trembled at his feet and begged for their lives, but few of them have had the pleasure of trembling under his touch in the way you’re doing right now. The thought that this man is dangerous, and undeniably cruel at times, sends a jolt through your body. The realization that you’re in the arms of a monster, a beast, and he’s holding you so affectionately, it plants an unspeakable feeling in your chest. 

You watch with bated breaths as his eyes scan over your body, appreciating everything you have to offer. It's a little humiliating— being put on such an open display, having nothing to cover up your most intimate areas besides his bruising grip that travels from your waist to fondle your breasts— but it turns you on endlessly to be ravaged by something as simple as his gaze. 

Something deep in your stomach coils as you watch a sharp, razor-like smile stretch across his face. You think about his sharp edges, how you'd willingly cut yourself on them over and over if it meant having him close. Even when he's literally inside you, filling you up to beyond satisfactory levels, you're thinking of ways to have him closer. 

The thought of him planting something irreversible inside you, something alive, passes through your head like a seductive whisper. 

Your eyes meet in the mirror again and he looks proud of his work. He must know that after he's had you, he's ruined everyone else for you. He must know that everytime you let someone else touch you, you'll be thinking of his steady slender hands; and everytime someone slips their length inside you, you'll be comparing them to his size, to his drive. He must be smug as fuck knowing that no one in the undercity will ever fuck you like he's doing right now.

He looks into your desperate, wanting eyes and knows that you belong to him. 

The thought of him being possessive over you, with all the marks he's been planting, is nearly enough to push you over the edge once again. But you hold back, wanting to savour this moment, to savour the way he stretches you out and holds you close. Your breathing grows erratic and your pleas more desperate, but you hold it in because he looks at you like it's a silent order. If you hold out a little longer, you can come together.

The increasingly loud sound of your moans and gasps makes you long for his voice. You realize, on the verge of ruin, that he hasn't spoken much to you. This whole time, the sounds echoing through the bedroom have been coming out of your throat, deep from your chest, and only intermittently interrupted by his groans as he drilled into you like an animal. He hasn't been talking to you, using that silver tongue of his at what he does best, telling you things to satisfy that gnawing desire in your chest. 

You wanted him to tell you that he loved you, but you wouldn't fling that onto him during your first time together. You wanted to hear him call you nice things, call you pretty and use pet names like he always does outside the premises of the bedroom. Darling, dove, lovely, filthy, whore, slut. You wanted him to be a little mean, tease you for how desperate you've been to get into his pants. You wanted him to claim you verbally the way he does physically, you wanted him to say it out loud, claim you as his in a passionate declaration so you could replay it in your head when you touch yourself to the thought of him. 

You wanted to hear his voice. 

You straighten your back, pushing up against his chest, and tilt your head slightly to try and face him. You observe his neck and his flushed complexion, watch his throat bobbing like he's almost nervous that you're looking so closely. You notice some fresh love bites that you barely remember creating on his neck, but they're undeniably yours. It’s almost like they carve your name into him. You soften at the sight, realizing that Silco must trust you tremendously to let you touch him so intimately, especially around his neck. 

He looks down at you and you admire the shape of his nose, hoping that you'll get to have it between your legs soon. You look directly into his eyes and feel your knees grow weaker at the fondness in them, so raw and honest, like everything he's ever given you. The scarred side of his face is uncovered, giving you a clear view of the dark grooves that run down his face, like river streams flowing down to his neck. You lean your head further back, resting it on his shoulder, losing sight of his normal eye but holding the gaze of the altered one. The deep charcoal has always fascinated you, how someone could survive and continue fighting after being plunged into the depth of darkness of betrayal. But what always stole your breath away was the burning orange in the middle, illuminating the orb like a vicious flame in the middle of the rich black darkness. You catch your reflection in them and feel your chest swell with pride, the Eye of Zaun only has eyes for you.    

Your eyes move down to his lips and you feel the desire inside you increase tenfold. The shape that you've spent years memorizing, pinning after, it's so close in your reach now. Your mouth goes dry when you realize he's drawing in closer, the same idea infiltrating his mind. 

You can almost taste the alcohol and rich flavorful cigar on his lips, only a sliver of distance between you and everything you’ve been yearning for. 

But not all good things come to fruition. 

You should've known. It doesn't make sense. 

Three years of being his friend, being at his side when he needed you the most, growing closer despite everyone warning you about the notorious crime lord ruling over Zaun. Months of pining over him and memorizing his features and the lovely shape of his lips, wanting desperately to get a taste of him, to get a taste of the bitter and evil monster that sends horror coursing through the undercity. Sitting in his office, on his couch, pretending to innocently read the book you borrowed like you weren't imagining him bending you over that desk and fucking you until your legs were shaking.

Nearly a year of harboring feelings for him and you've never told him. 

The first thing you see is darkness. It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the lighting, and you realize, with a heavy heart, that you're in your bedroom. Alone, no Silco between your legs, nothing to accompany you besides the dull aching in your lower stomach and the wetness between your thighs. 

You knew your feelings for him were getting out of hand, but a wet dream like that is officially reaching a new low. 

Not that you haven't had dirty dreams about him before, or fleeting inappropriate thoughts when you were around him, but none of them have felt this raw. You've never felt so loved in any of your previous wet dreams, and you're starting to doubt if you've ever felt that loved when awake too. 

You turn to plant your face into the pillow, groaning in frustration. Even in your dreams, he fucks like an animal and loves like a starving artist. It felt like you were cursed; when everyone was warning you about him, they forgot to mention that you'd want to fuck him so bad it would haunt your every waking thought— and sleeping ones too, apparently. 

The alarm besides your bed beeps and you lift your head up from the eternal anguish to glimpse the time. The realization that it's 6:50 on a Saturday night jolts you awake. 

In exactly half an hour— 7:20 never made sense to you but you've learned to stop asking questions when it comes to Silco— you were supposed to meet the man who was just fucking the daylight out of you. Or, well, the man you wish would fuck the daylight out of you, and the nighttime and all times of the day really. But that's besides the point, you're fucked, and not in the way you need to be. 

You fight the urge to bury yourself into your bed sheets and just play dead until Sevika or some other trusted employee comes to drag you out of your apartment. But the thought of having to meet him in your sleepwear, the one with all the evidence of your arousal, was more mortifying than having to pretend you aren't thinking filthy, dirty thoughts about him. 

You've done it before, how hard could it be? 

Besides, it's almost a family activity now, your weekly meetups. Maybe Jinx will be there and a reluctant Sevika will join you and attempt to teach you how to play poker and you'll suck at it and it will just be a good old fun time. And you wouldn't be thinking of how sexy he looks when he leans back on the couch and drinks his whiskey like that and blows smoke rings and smirks when you lose and- 

No.

You were going to get up, take a cold freezing shower, and exorcise every dirty thought from your gutter of a mind. You were going to sit in his office and not have a single deranged thought about him, and it was going to be fine. 

Right? 

[therealantlerqueen]

[unreasonablerobin]

PUCKER UP!

Damian Alg Ghul x Girly!Reader

Synopsis: It's hard to believe this cold, ruthless assassin would let someone even think of putting eyeshadow on him... not after they found out about you.

W.C: 3.0k

Tags: Fluff ♡, some brief mentions of blood/injury, smau

"Damian, are you wearing," Stephanie paused. "Polish?"

Tim looked up from the computer in record speed at the question. His brother, demon child, wearing nail polish? Whatever direction this conversation was about to go he needed to be involved.

"Don't be ridiculous Brown." Damian spat back.

"Very defensive for a supposedly innocent man." Tim quirked a teasing brow. Damian's scowl deepened at the sight

"And the questions have only begun!" Stephanie added with a clasp of her hands. Damian's tormentors took a deep breath in preparation.

"What's with you smelling so good recently?"

"Why do you have specks of glitter on your face?"

"How are your hands soooo soft?"

"I really need you to be honest with me on this one Damian," Stephanie said rather sternly. A serious expression on her face and a finger pointed at Damian.

Okay, that made him a tad nervous. Is something wrong with Stephanie? Did he upset her in some way?

"How are you glowing?"

What.

"You're a vigilante! You barely sleep and spend your days *a"Damian, are you wearing," Stepahine paused. "*Polish?*"

Tim looked up from the batcomputer in record speed at the question. His brother, demon child, wearing nail polish? Whatever direction thus conversation was about to go he *needed* to be involved.

"Don't be ridiculous Brown." Damian spat back.

"Very defensive for a supposedly innocent man." Tim quirked a teasing brow. Damian's scowl deepened at the sight

"And the questions have only begun!" Stephanie added with a clasp of her hands.

"What's with you smelling so good recently?"

"Why do you have specks of glitter on your face?"

"How are your hands *soooo* soft?"

"I really need you to be honest with me on this one Damian." Stephanie said rather sternly. A serious expression on her face and a finger pointed at Damian.

Okay, that made him a tad nervous. Is something wrong with Stephanie? Did je upset her someway?

"How are you glowing?"

What.

"You're a vigilante! You barely sleep and spend your days and nights sparring! You're skin should be awful, you should reak of sweat!"

"Wow, thank you." Damian deadpanned and Tim chuckled.

"But you're not! You're..." She swished her hands around trying to find the word

"Radiant!"

"How'd you do it?" She plopped herself into a desk chair. It skid across the floor a little closer to Tim's from force of impact. She stared in awe waiting fir her answers. Damian sighed, really not wanting to tell them about probably your most common date; spa and makeup nights. Self care nights as you called them.

This morning...

Frantic footsteps echoed through the walls of your home as you scurried around trying to get everything you needed. Picking up makeup products just to drop them remembering that you already had it over at the manor. Your hair was somewhat done, you were dressed and had all your jewelry on. So at the very least you looked presentable.

'What else do I need?' Your eyes scanned the now messy bedroom, you'd have to clean it when you get back. A ring from the doorbell had you rushing down the stairs.

'Doesn't matter haven't the time for anything else." You flopped down onto the bench by the front door and grabbed your favourite shoes, chucking them on as quick as possible. After taking a deep breath you slipped out the door.

"Hello Alfred!"

"Good morning Ms. Y/n," Alfred greeted with a smile. "May I take your bag?"

"Oh, thank you!" He took your bag from you and opened the car door. You always forget that Alfred actually does butler things and isn't just a member of the Wayne family.

The seat belt clicked and you gave it a quick tug to make sure it was secure. Can't risk having anything happen to this pretty face!

The car came to a slow stop at the tall, metal gates leading to the Wayne Manor. You'll never get over how beautiful Damian's home is. The gates opened slowly. The grande and detailed architecture loomed before you as you stepped out at the steps to the front door. Alfred handed you your bag and headed up the steps to open the manor door.

It was a magical feeling everything you came here. The manor always smelt so clean, but rich, and yet cosy.

"Y/n!" A voice boomed from around the corner of the entrance. It was Dick.

"It's nice to see you again." He leaned in a gave you side hug.

"It's nice to see you too!" You reciprocated. "How are you?"

"I've been good, what about yourself?"

"Eh, alright. School has me busy."

"Yeah I imagine. Damian's been swamped with assignments."

"Beloved." Damian called from the top of the stairs before he made his way down. You met him at the last step. He took your bag from you and turned away.

"Come on." He began to head back up the stairs and to his bedroom.

"You're a real romantic, you know that Damian." Dick deadpanned at his little brother's actions. You laughed to yourself as you followed Damian.

Damian sat on his bed, scribbling some notes down, whilst you took up the space at his desk. He has a perfectly good bathroom with a mirror, but you choose to use his desk and your compact mirror. Simply so you can stay in the same room as him. If you hadn't already set yourself and your products up he would've offered to do his work in the bathroom, on the floor beside you. It's inefficient but it's with you.

He looked up and realised you were almost done. You were finishing up your mascara. All that was left was your lips. Remembering he was in possession of one of your lip glosses he reached into his bedside locker.

"You're lips gloss, beloved." He called and stretched his hand out with the clear and silver container rested in his palm.

"Thank you!" You shuffled over in his desk chair. After snatching your lip gloss you took a moment to stare.

"You have very nice lashes." Damian stared back in confused silence for a second before responding.

"Thank you."

"I should do your makeup!" You gasped.

"Absolutely not."

"Oh come on!"

"No."

"Babe please!" You begged as you hopped onto the bed beside him with a pout. He quietly examined your face. Several beats of silence passing before he spoke with a sigh. He was going to regret this.

"Fine."

He just couldn't say no. I mean, how could anyone say no to a smile like yours? That gorgeous toothy, smile that makes him weak in the knees. You could be dripping head to toe in blood and he still wouldn't be able to deny your heart of what it desires. So here he was, hands settled on your thighs, occasionally leaving to grab some sort of product for you. You were working your magic, eyes locked onto his tanned face. One hand was settled under his jaw, hoping his face up and your dominant hand held a small brush coated in concealer. He had learnt that this was possibly your least favourite step, after eyeliner, carving eyebrows. No matter what they just never seemed to be even.

You leaned back and held his face infront of you like it was your newest oil painting.

"Damn, I'm cooking so hard right now." You smirked at the sight. Symmetrical eyebrows.

"You're not cooking beloved, we are not even on the kitchen."

"No! I mean," you cut yourself off laughing. Damian didn't spend much time on social media. He just didn't find any entrainment in it. "It's slang for doing something really well."

You stretched your back and took another moment to simply look at him. My god was he beautiful. You don't know how you managed to bag someone so handsome and so repulsed by everybody.

"Beloved?"

"Hm?"

"You're staring." Warmth rushed to your face at the comment. To be fair, you were staring, hard. It's not your fault though! He's just so gorgeous!

...

"It's not fair!" You suddenly shouted.

"What do you need such nice brows and lashes for?" Your hands wildly gestured towards his face. He didn't flinch at any of your antics. Just quirked the corner of his lips up.

"For you to admire, I suppose."

"You better not get them seared off during some misson." You warned.

"I'll cry!"

"Please don't cry over something so miniscule." Damian pleaded with some concern. You actually crying at the sight of him with his eyebrows and lashes seared off is not an impossible scenario.

He sighed in contentment as your train of thoughts slowed and you picked the makeup brush back up. Your hands cupped his face again and he subconsciously leaned into it. He remembers the gallery of texts that had been exchanged that eventually led to these spa and makeup dates.

1 month ago...

He lazily held his phone above his face. His costume was torn up and discarded on the floor of his bedroom. He was lying to you again. Patrol was not fine. He was not fine. A concerningly deep gash was hidden under some already bloody wrapped bandages on his upper left arm. He had not gotten a wink of sleep in two days. He was exhausted, in every possible way. But you sending pictures of your cat in hopes it would cheer him up, really did work. You couldn't make the physical pain of his injury and exhaustion go away but you could always take it off his mind.

The morning sunlight shined through your open window. You squinted reading the texts from your boyfriend. Sighing, you got up to get ready for the day. You didn't know what to do. Damian was always drained from his vigilante activities and there's no way you can persuade him to take more days off than Bruce already forces him to take. The big mirror on the bathroom wall reflected you thinking face, that was also covered in toothpaste. As you spat it out an idea came to mind. Skincare, snacks, and time together. That's what makes you relax, surely it would help Damian out too. You're a genius.

The summer air was warm against your skin. You opted to walk to the corner store since the weather was so nice. You'll grab some of his favourite snacks and some face masks for you both.

Upon entering the shop, a cool breeze from the air-con and the refrigerated section hit you. It was refreshing. You headed for the snack section picking up some crisps and sweets for you both to share. After scanning the whole shelf of food you nodded in satisfaction at the collection in your arms and made your way to the hygiene section. You nabbed some deodorant and two green tea face masks before going to the counter.

$19.50, the economy's gone crazy.

The handles of the paper bag crumpled in your grasp. Damian would've given out to you for texting while walking, but he wasn't here so it was fine. You pulled out your phone, it's charming swinging about, and sent him a text, inviting him over for the night.

That evening...

You forgot to mention that the snacks you got earlier included face masks. He needed a break. A moment to relax. What better way than a night with his amazing girlfriend, a cool and hydrating face mask, surrounded by tasty snacks? That sounds like a dream to you. You had all your usual skincare set out on your bathroom countertop. You swayed back and forward awaiting Damian's arrival. You couldn't exactly continue you're routine without your toner. As you plugged your phone in to charge, the sweet chime of your doorbell rang through your home. You padded down the stairs, nearly slipping in your fluffy slippers. The lock was undone and the door was sung open quickly, like it held the cure to all you're problems on the other side. You'd say it did.

"Hi!" Damian had the bag of shopping tucked to the side before the door was even open. He knew you'd jump straight into his arms. It was routine at this point.

"Hello beloved." His greeting was muffled by your shoulder. Damian stepped inside and gently kicked the door shut. A quiet wince escaped him as he dropped you back onto your feet. Unfortunately for him, the noise didn't escape you, but you held your tongue for the moment.

"I got what you asked for and some popcorn," He handed the bag to you and knelt to remove his shoes. "I know you always forget it."

"I knew I forgot something!" You looked down into the bag to see your favourite popcorn. As much as you love it you never remember to buy it.

"Thank you!" A loving peck was place upon Damian's cheek. He gazed down at you as you took his hand, leading him up the stairs and to your bedroom.

He sat himself down on your plushie-infested bed. The pink duvet dipped beneath him. You hummed to yourself as you continued your skincare routine now that you had your toner.

Damian subtly shifted his arm. That gash from last night (this morning?) still hurt like hell. Alfred had stitched and wrapped it up for him. He removed his hoodie to see the bandages had been soaked through with blood. They really needed to be changed.

'I should've done this before I came here.' He internally groaned as he grabbed a box of bandage wraps from his bag.

'Need to be quick.' Damian used a blade he always carried to slice off the dead bandages. He shoved them into the bandage box and made a mental reminder to toss them out later. He didn't like lying to you but he hated seeing you worried more. As time went on Damian found that wrapping a wound is a lot more difficult with one hand.

You re-emerged from the bathroom to see Damian trying to wrap his arm back up as quickly as possible. Old, bloody bandages discarded somewhere he hoped you wouldn't find. He knew if you saw the quantity of blood he'd lost you freak out. More than you were about to.

"Oh my god, Damian!" You yelped. "You said your patrol went fine!" The face masks were abandoned onto your vanity as you bolted over to him.

"This is no big deal Habibti," He groaned as he accidentally grazed his nails across the gash. "I've dealt with worse."

"Just cause you've dealt with worse doesn't mean this is fine!" Damian didn't have the opportunity to rebuttal. His injured arm was being gently cradled in your hand as you gripped the other and dragged him into the bathroom.

"Sit here." You gestured at the closed toilet seat. You began rummaging through your drawers. A bottle of saline solution was in your grasp. You picked up some cotton pads you typically use to clean off your makeup.

"I use this to clean my piercings when they're new. It should be fine to clean around your stitches." You informed him as you poured some onto the cotton pad and leaned forward.

"This'll sting."

"I'll be fine." His body tensed up at the contact of the cold liquid. It did in fact sting, but he was too busy focusing on the smell of your perfume. As you clean his wound he distracts himself from the irritating feeling by gazing at your perfume collection and trying to figure out which one you were wearing. The bang of your small trash can against the wall as you discarded the cotton pads brought him back. You threw out the bandages that he had begun to wrap around the wound a moment ago and grabbed a box of fresh ones. He watched as you carefully wrapped his arm up. You certainly weren't as familiar with the task as he was, thankfully, but you were doing a better job since you had two hands to work with instead of one.

"And, all done!" You sang with pride as you stuck the end of the bandage with a Sanrio plaster.

"Really?"

"It's my personal touch," you placed your hands on your hips. "A reminder of who's always here to take care of you." You finished softly. He couldn't help but let a little small find its way onto his face.

"Thank you, beloved." Damian stood up and glanced at his left arm. If any of his family saw this he wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Wait here!" You scurried out of the room and returned with two packets of face masks in your hands.

"No."

"Oh come on!" You pleaded.

"It'll feel nice, and it'll be fun!" He stared at you slightly displeased.

"I'll give you a kiss?"

"You'd do that anyway, you are my partner."

"I'll give you a lot of kisses." He took in your swaying figure and tight-lipped smile. You desperately him to relax and have a bit of fun with you.

He sighed, "fine."

You hugged him, leaning into his good arm.

"No pictures though."

"Ugh, fine!" You pushed away and propped yourself onto the sink countertop. You giggled to yourself as you opened one of the packs.

"C'mere!" He situated himself between your legs, his hands holding the edge of the counter.

"Put this on." A colourful headband was shoved into his hands as you put your own on. He glanced at you to see if you were serious. All he saw was your giddy face. Reluctantly he put the headband on, pushing his dark hair out of his face.

"You can't touch your face once this is on, okay?" You held his face as a brush covered in green rubbed along his skin. What has his life come to?

Here you were sitting on a countertop with your boyfriend between your legs. Both are sporting green face masks. You couldn't help but laugh at Damian's serious expression. He was counting down the seconds until he could take the concoction off his face.

"When do you plan on fulfilling your end of the deal?" He asked very seriously. Did I mention he's very serious about this?

"When we take these off."

He exhaled roughly through his nose, like a fire breathing dragon.

"You'll live until then!" Your arms were thrown over his shoulders and your fingers fidgeted with the hair on the nape of his neck.

"Maybe."

"You're lucky I didn't make you wear cucumbers on your eyes." Damian huffed from beside you. The two of you were snuggled under the covers of your bed and surrounded by snacks. It was basically heaven. An action movie Damian had heard Dick talk about with high praise played in the background. He turned to face you, you were rested on his right side, his good arm loosely around your waist.

"What?" You questioned as he stared at you.

"The deal." As interesting as the movie was he had some other priorities. He watched as a grin spread across your face.

"What deal?"

"Oh come on."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" You shrugged your shoulders theatrically.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue and brought you closer by the arm around your waist. You braced one hand on his chest and the other on the mattress. The bags beneath his eyes were so much more visible from this distance. They made you remember why Damian was here to begin with. So you leaned him and pressed your lips to his.

A/N: So happy I got back the motivation to feed the Girly!Reader fans. Idk what to do cause I've got so many other ideas and fuck all Girly!Reader ideas... I'm not stopping Girly!Reader series, but I don't think I'll be posting any Girly!Reader stuff for a while. Especially since I want to try to write for some non DC characters. (Tim Drake x Slasher!Reader is burning in the background.)