#ryan insert

[inferno-ontherocks]

There's a lot of unspoken words in those sips

911 | 5x16 Mayday | 7x06 There Goes the Groom

[reynolds-jackman]

now kiss??

[trashworldblog]

good to know shane and ryan also eat popcorn like a horse sometimes

[henrycangelbaby]

In which: For the first time in his life, he felt that everything was right, everything was perfect—his wife, his beautiful Y/N, who had brought happiness and love into his life, had given him his baby, his family. And his baby, god his baby, the most precious thing he had ever seen in the world, and she was sleeping peacefully on his chest.

or

Logan has his first moment alone with his baby.

Quiet has fallen over the room for what feels like the first time in forever. Everything and everyone is still and peaceful. He peers over at Y/N; she sleeps peacefully in the hospital bed. God, she deserves it more than anyone else has. Logan doesn't think that he could ever give her any amount of peaceful nights of rest that could repay her for what she had done. She had given him a baby, the gift of starting their family together.

Their baby sleeps next to the bed, so small and precious in her clear cot. Isabella Howlett was born four days out from her due date; she was born with a healthy ten fingers and toes as well as a head full of dark brown hair. She had given everyone a bit of a fright and had certainly caused her momma aches and pains, but none of it even seemed to matter now. As he stared across the room at her, he felt his chest ache; it was a good ache this time, like he had so much love for this tiny little thing that his heart simply didn't know what to do with it.

He is broken from his haze by the sound of the door opening slowly. A kind-looking nurse peeps her head in, quickly seeing the sleeping members of his family. She closes the door behind her as she tiptoes towards Logan.

"How are we feeling, Dad?" she asks.

If it were for the fact that he was the only conscious member of his family in the room at the moment, he might have missed that she was talking to him. It felt forbidden to be referred to as "Dad" by the nurses who came bustling in and out of the room; he heard a squeeze in his chest when they referred to Y/N as "Mum." It sounded so right; it didn't sound quite as right when people referred to him as Dad. Apart from Y/N jokingly calling him "Daddy" towards the end of her pregnancy, he hadn't been given the title, and he hadn't discussed it with anyone (except, of course, with his beautiful baby mama). It was all so strange.

He snapped his head up the second time the nurse used his newest (and proudest) title; he nodded and chuckled halfheartedly when the nurse made a joke, something along the lines of him being the only one awake. She remained quiet as she hovered over his baby, checking on her.

Logan suddenly felt a wave of anger; he didn't want anyone touching his baby, not even the kind nurse. He took a breath, trying to calm himself; this was all routine and procedure; everything was fine.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the nurse, "Have you done any skin-to-skin contact yet?"

His eyebrows pulled together. No, he hadn't; in fact, he wasn't quite sure what she was referring to.

"Uh, no?" It came out a little ruder than he had intended, but it didn't matter. She smiled at him; obviously, she understood his trepidation; she had probably done this thousands of times before.

"Skin-to-skin is when you allow the child to rest on your bare chest; it is most common in mothers, but Dad is always recommended to do it as well."

He stared at her blankly, thinking over what this meant. She continued before he could ask another question.

"You don't need my assistance; it can be a completely private affair if you want, provided Mom stays sleeping."

He nodded before he could think about it. He once again considered if he was coming off rude or dismissive but came to the same conclusion: it didn't matter if he was.

"Well, everything is okay with Mom and Bub; I will leave you guys to it," she smiled before swiftly turning and leaving the room, perhaps sensing his need to be alone with his family.

Something is holding him back—well, actually, Logan is holding himself back. He knows it too; he should have kept the nurse around; then he would have been forced to hold Isabella. The nurse wasn't there, his love was knocked out well, and his baby made no noise to indicate she wanted holding. The only things working in the room right now were his thoughts: why was he finding this so hard? He should find it the easiest thing in the world—pick up his baby and hold her close to him, keeping her warm with his touch—but something stops him.

It's his fears that stop him—fears that Y/N spent months quelling; he wasn't dangerous; he deserved to be a father as much as anyone else. But now all alone in this room, they came back up; it was just him, no nurse to monitor them and make sure he didn't do anything stupid; his lover knocked out to the world, sleeping better than she had for months. If something happened now, it would all be his fault; no one would be around to see it or stop him from doing something horrible without even meaning to.

He was knocked out of his thoughts by the first sound he had heard in the room since the nurse had left. He could hear Isabella begin to fuss, squirming around in her bassinet. As he got up and walked towards her, he saw her small face pinched up in discomfort, looking rather like she might cry at any second.

Fuck. What was he supposed to do? The panic sunk in quickly that this was the first time he had been left alone to care for Issy. He didn't want to be a stupid, incompetent father who couldn't work his way around a nappy, but his panic-ridden brain went blank for a second. He watched rather helplessly as she began to whimper. He didn't want her to cry, waking Y/N up; that truly would be a mark of an incompetent father.

He quietly unwrapped her from her hospital blanket, leaving her only in the big yellow jumpsuit and matching beanie. He held his baby close to his chest, two big hands cradling her back and head where they supported her. He began to gently rock Issy, trying to calm her against his body. It worked. He smiled as she quieted down.

He felt a sense of calm over him; he did know what he was doing, at least a little bit. He felt as she rested her head into the crook of his neck, seemingly wanting to be closer to him. Maybe she could feel the way that his heart beat so fast, unable to contain the overwhelm of emotions that came over him.

"My baby," he whispered, even though he was the only one to hear; she was his baby.

He felt ready, perhaps a little stupid for having to talk himself up into being ready to hang out with his daughter, but he felt the ache in him wanting to be as close to her as possible. He sat down carefully, putting her on his thighs. He took his shirt off first, not wanting Issy to be cold. He then undid her onesie, careful not to scratch or poke her. He placed his hand behind her head as he lifted her up, supporting her fully with his one hand. She was just so tiny it made his heart hurt.

He placed her gently down on his bare chest; she quickly readjusted to the change, curling into him. For the first time in forever, everything went quiet; there was no noise in his head, no ache in his shoulders or back. The only thing that he felt was a tear slide down his cheek. God, he was so happy; he couldn't contain the overwhelm of his emotions. His baby was so sweet and tiny, and she smelled so good, and god, she felt so warm next to him.

He knew technically he was helping her, helping regulate her heart rate and her body heat, but it felt like she was healing him. He felt his heart rate slowing; he didn't feel cold despite his naked top half. He felt so happy he couldn't describe it. For the first time in his life, he felt that everything was right, everything was perfect—his wife, his beautiful Y/N, who had brought happiness and love into his life, had given him his baby, his family. And his baby, god his baby, the most precious thing he had ever seen in the world, and she was sleeping peacefully on his chest.

For a moment, everything was quiet until Logan picked up his head. Looking down at Issy, he spoke just above a whisper, "Nothing will ever hurt you; I will always protect you, for as long as I live, sweetie. I love you."

[notyourhetloki]

From prompt list “I’m going to ruin you” after Ken has learned about bodily anatomy after his venture into the real world and he says this to fem reader (or gn if you prefer!), and decides it’s finally time to get your attention off that other Ken once and for all (which, of course, the reader has never cared about that “other Ken” anyway)

feel good (Ken x Reader)

Reader: gender neutral

/NSFW Ken x Doll!Reader/

A/N: Heey! Thanks for requesting! THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN like... you're a genius. Hope you like it! Prompt list mentioned: here's the link

Warnings: very smutty, dolls have genitals in this one, reader is implied to have a vagina but I don't describe it much (it's still gn!), possessive Ken, maybe a bit ooc, reader's virginity is mentioned.

Word Count: 1.1k

—

In his venture into the Real World, Ken learned very interesting things like the patriarchy, horses, and most importantly... sex.

See, the dolls in Barbieland knew they had genitals but it was never something they actually used often (if ever). They knew the basics of human anatomy but... nothing as throughout as what Ken had discovered.

Magazines, books, even videos of sex were readily available, all accessible to a very naive Ken who let everything get to his head.

Arriving home to Barbieland, Ken began getting these thoughts... if sex was so good after all, why not try it with you, the person he loved the most? The thoughts were pure enough at the beginning, but it all went to shit when he saw you...

Sitting next to Simu!Ken, you were laughing and chatting along. You both seemed to be having fun and Ken hated that, a gut-wrenching sensation of pure jealousy taking over his entire body.

Without thinking, Ken immediately walked over to you, grabbing you by the wrist and waving a sarcastic goodbye to the other Ken. You were surprised, but happy nonetheless. "Ken! You're back! I'm so happy you returned, love... But where are you taking me?"

He didn't answer, only marching towards your house until you were in your living room. Ken released the grip on your wrist and turned to face you.

He looked... different. He had a stern but mischievous look on his face, his pupils blown out making his baby blue eyes look darker, hair messy... He looked feral. "Ken..."

"I'm going to ruin you..." He whispered, taken by a mixture of jealousy and arousal. You looked so good... and you were his.

You didn't know what to make of his statement, feeling heat run through your body as he looked at you like a meal... he had never looked at you like that before.

"Sit down." Ken calmly said, and you promptly obliged. Sat on the sofa, he held your chin up so you looked at him as he said: "I'm going to make you feel so good... I promise."

Then, he kneeled. Moving his hands to your waistband, he looked up asking for permission and you agreed (even if a little confused).

Ken took your pants off, removing your underwear with it. You gasped a bit, not expecting any of it. His hands grazed on your thighs, opening them up so he could get a good look at you.

"Don't be shy, (Y/N)... you're so beautiful." Ken said before diving in between your legs, kissing your inner thighs, making you shiver. "K-Ken... what are-" Suddenly, you were cut out by a wave of pleasure that dominated your chore. He was kissing you... down there. And you didn't know why it felt this good.

Ken continued kissing, licking, and sucking... It was obviously his first time but he was doing his best, and he knew exactly where your most sensitive spot was... not neglecting it for a moment.

Sounds were coming out of your mouth and you honestly couldn't care about neighbors, moaning loudly when Ken hit that sweet spot... you felt out of orbit, taken completely by pleasure.

Tightness began building in your belly, like a bomb ready to explode, you were scared but nothing could take you out of this moment. "Ken, p-please... don't stop..."

And he didn't, working fiercely to make you orgasm... he wanted to taste you in his mouth, to be the first one to make you cum.

As you felt his lips and tongue moving, the tightness suddenly released. Waves of pleasure washed over you while you moaned his name. You felt dumb with the feeling, overwhelmed by so many sensations all at once.

Ken got up with a smile, feeling real proud of himself "See? I told you I would make you feel good! Now... it's my turn."

He took his pants off in one single swift motion, revealing his hard cock to you. Damn, he was hot... and you wanted to pleasure him too. "Ken... I-I want to learn how to make you feel good as well..."

His eyes grew wide, taken aback by your sudden confession (yes he was still insecure about you, even though you had just let him eat you out lol). "Oh, doll..." Ken softly said before kissing you, tender but slightly possessive... he was desperate at that point.

After the kiss, he carefully positioned you to kneel on the couch with your back facing him, legs spread slightly apart enough so he could slot himself in between. Ken massaged your back while teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock.

After you gave him consent, he slowly got inside you, careful to not hurt. It was quite off rhythm at first, Ken groaned while feeling so overwhelmed with you around him. But as soon as you both got comfortable... things escalated.

Ken fucked you quickly like an animal, completely desperate and needy. He was inside you, the first to ever be inside you! He felt possessive, moaning and groaning as he grabbed on your thighs and waist, pulling lightly on your hair as he cried into your ear: "You're mine, you're mine..."

"Ah, Ken! Ah..." You whined as his pace quickened even more, his dick inside you so deep hitting sweet spots you didn't even know you had, stretching you oh so deliciously.

"Yes! Please! Hmm... so good!" You hummed in approval, and the more praise you gave, the messier it got. Ken seemed to get off on your words, rolling his hips into you harder the more you spoke and driving you crazy. Eventually, you started moving your own hips to meet his thrusts, and that sight... he began getting erratic just from looking at you.

Not long after, Ken cummed inside you. Head tilted back, moaning your name and holding your waist for dear life. He never imagined it could be this good.

Plastic hearts racing, you both hugged each other as you laid on the sofa. Ken had his head on your chest, resting as he regained composure. "See? You're mine now..." He said between breaths.

"But, Ken... I've always been yours." You reassured him, running your fingers through his blonde hair. "You're the only one for me."

He turned his face upwards to look at you with teary eyes, admiring your face before reaching and kissing you desperately. Tears ran down his face as he kissed you, and you wiped them clean with your hands.

After Ken calmed down, you two sat side by side on the couch while you wondered: "What was that, by the way? The... the things you did, the way it made me feel..."

"Oh... yeah, there are a lot of things I'd like to show you! Things I learned in the Real World... that was one of them." Ken grinned while holding your hand, soothing you before continuing: "I've never done anything like it before, either... but I wanted to try it with you."

You couldn't help but smile, squeezing his hands while being so happy he trusted you like that. "Well, I'm glad that I'm yours, then..."

—

[g4yforethan]

nonsense

pairing: deadpool x male!reader

summary: reader and deadpool reward themselves after an easy battle against criminals

warnings: cursing, smut, verse!deadpool, verse!reader

a/n: somethin about the deadpool suit makes mee...

“hey listen let’s lot make this any harder than it has to be okay?” you told the masked criminal as he came lunging at you with a hammer. you grabbed his arm and knocked him to the ground and blew him a kiss. "fucking cocksucker." the man shouted as he moaned in pain. you struck his head and knocked him out. " you're not wrong. gotcha now huh?" you smiled as you made your way to the front of the bank and found wade. "hey baby boy think you can help me out here?" he was in a chokehold with two other criminals in the front lobby. they held his arms down and restricted him from using his gun. “ugh you always have me doing all the work!” you rolled your eyes as you ran and kicked both of the men in the neck as they instantly fell to the ground.

“can we go home now?!” you asked as you felt fatigued from the long hours you two had been at it. wade came over and carried you back to the car. "listen y/n i enjoy your company and enjoy having intercourse with you but this is getting a little tiring." he replied as he took off his next and started the car. "oh come on you know you love me. actually because of our hard work how bout we go back and discuss this intercourse since you brought it up?" you grinned as he sped off back to the apartment. you two got back and you quickly got out of your suit and into your underwear. wade was going to do the same when you stopped him. "noo wade. you know i like it when you keep the suit on." he grinned as he kissed your neck as you felt on his ass. "woah easy there tiger. one more move and you're gonna get my prostate going." you rolled your eyes as the two of you moved to the bedroom.

you laid wade down as you got on top of him. he gripped your waist as you grinded on his growing bulge that was noticeable through the suit. "so about the whole intercourse thing... you still down for it or?" you replied as you kissed his neck. "only if you slam me with that dick of yours and vice versa, i think we can make some plans." he grinned as you went down to his crotch and unbuckled his suit. you took his long dick inside your mouth as you pulled his pants down enough to see his hole. you sucked on his cock while slowly sticking your finger inside him. "that's the stuff y/n holy shit!" he moaned as you put 3 fingers inside him while stuffing his balls in your mouth. he grabbed his hand and forced to swallow every inch of his cock. you threw off your underwear and stroked your dick. "ready for the real thing?"

"just fuck me before i nut all over this bed!" wade yelled as you slowly entered him. he gripped the bedsheets as you lifted his legs for ease. you dug inside him and hit his prostate while he rolled his eyes back. "that's the fucking spot y/n." he moaned as his hands started to grip your ass. "fuck yeah but you still gotta do me too." you whispered in his ear as he quickly pulled you over and pulled your legs up. "jesus you were really quick there huh?" you said as he smirked at you. "anything to get into that tight hole." he shouted as he dug inside you and slammed his cock inside your hole. you moaned while wade grabbed your dick and started jerking off for you. "fuck come on y/n let's cum at the same time!" wade yelled. "fuck im coming wade!" you yelled as you came all over your chest and felt wade fill your hole with his. wade laid down next to you and sighed. "fuck that was so good! i could really go for round 2...what do you say y/n? y/n?" he looked over and found already asleep and softly massaged your face. "go to sleep go to sleep...let my dick put you to sleep. say goodnight and let me cum in you twice!" he sung as you slapped him on his face and turned the other way.

[yeonjune]

YEONJUN ✙ minisode 3: TOMORROW Concept Trailer #2

[supercap2319]

Stiles: "I can't believe dad hired a straight deputy."

Y/N: "Oh, Parrish isn't straight."

Stiles: "Since when?"

Y/N: *Smiles* "Since I had my lips wrapped around his cock five minutes ago."

[adragonprinceswhore]

I’m gonna start regarding House of the Dragon as a satirical comedy because implying that a man who was the most passive monarch ever and caused a succession crisis that killed the Targaryen’s greatest asset was an amazing king is comedy gold 🤩

[hollandmarrch]

Ryan Gosling behind the scenes of The Fall Guy (2024)

[husbandohoarder]

My self insert, living the life I wish I had:

Me, living the life I didn’t ask for:

[godmadeaterribleerror]

It Was Smiling Down - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: Ryan Butcher I'd die for you. If Eric Kripke EVER does you dirty he will have to answer to me personally. Title from San Francisco by the Mowgli's.

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary/Warnings: A Ryan pov Chapter! Takes place between Chapter 26 and Chapter 27. Usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, slightly angst, pre-established relationship

Ryan Butcher doesn’t really trust people. As a whole, they haven’t proven themselves to be that trustworthy. They mostly lie to him, or hurt him, or yell at him things that haunt him when he can’t sleep. Things about how he hurts people, when he doesn’t mean to. 

He never means to hurt anyone. It makes him feel heavy and sad and sick, and then the sizzle of flesh or crunch of bones has to be added to his nightmares, along with all the other faces that he did something bad to. Mom said hurting people was bad, and that we should treat others with kindness.

Dad said it didn’t matter. Dad said that people were like toys for them—the stronger, the better, the gods—to play with. That if Ryan broke one or two spines, or smashed four or five people into buildings, or punched a dozen people’s faces into their bodies, it didn’t really matter. The toy box was infinite, so they’d find a replacement. Dad said that humans couldn’t stop reproducing like cockroaches, so killing a few, or a lot, was if anything a favor to the universe.

Ryan had told Her that once. Not what his Dad had said—the mention of Dad always made Her face look sad, and Ben’s face look angry—but that cockroaches reproduced a lot. She’d been visiting him and Ben during training—all of them sitting on the floor, Ryan cross legged and Her leaning against Ben’s body—and Ryan had said it for a reason he couldn’t now remember.

She’d paused, frowning at her sandwich, then looked up at Ryan with a soft, curious gaze. “Do they? I mean, all bugs reproduce quickly for survival purposes, but I don’t think cockroaches are that remarkable at it.”

“I, I don’t know.” Ryan had mumbled, his eyes dropping to the mat. He didn’t want Her to be disappointed in him, even if she’d never been before. “I just heard it somewhere, I guess.”

“Huh.” She’d shrugged, reaching over Ben’s body to grab one of his fries that he always told Ryan tasted like fucking Styrofoam, but still brought every time she ate lunch with them. “Maybe I’m wrong-“

“No.” Ryan’s head had shaken nervously, because if Ben had taught him anything it was that She was almost never wrong. “I, I must have gotten it mixed up, I don’t know what animal reproduces the most-“ 

“Seahorses.”

Ryan had looked back up to Her, to see her grinning at him. All teeth and a warm affection that made the twisting feeling in Ryan’s gut fade. “Seahorses?” 

She’d nodded, humming an affirmation. “Up to 2,000 babies at a time.” Then She’d twisted around to look at Ben, her face growing just a little brighter than it had been before as Ryan saw their eyes meet. “And the men give birth to them, Benjamin.”

Ben had scowled. “How the fuck is that my problem-“

She’d pouted at him, and Ryan had seen them do this a million times before. She poked him, and he poked back, and neither of them ever really meant it, and it would go and go until one of them—probably Ben, Ryan had seen Her talk circles around their whole weird little family all at once with breaking or faltering—gave in and shut the other up.

“Would you give birth to my seahorse babies, my love?”

“I’m not giving birth to fucking shit-“

“But would you-“

“No.” Ben had grunted, rolling his eyes. “Because men don’t give fucking birth-“

“Seahorse men do. Seahorse men get pregnant, and then give birth. Which is usually how that process goes, but in seahorse societies it’s considered masculine. The men give birth because they love their partners and don’t want them to be in pain-“

Ryan didn’t think that last part was true, but there was usually a point in these arguments where She started to tug at Ben’s shirt with a soft, teasing smile, and said words that didn’t need to be true, because they were almost always her winning blow. This hadn’t been any different, because She’d cut herself off with a small yelp as Ben pulled her further into his lap, leaning down to kiss her.

Ryan had found somewhere else to look for a few minutes. He’d gotten good at that, at reading when he had to pretend that his two trusted adults weren’t maybe seconds from having sex on the floor. They never did, and it didn’t really bother Ryan—they both smiled twice as much when they were done, and Ryan had seen a lot worse than the way they always seemed to be eating each other’s faces—but he still had to wait it out.

When it was preceded by one of their fake arguments, it usually lasted a little longer. The kissing would stop, and they’d just look at each for a minute or two until She turned back to Ryan and Ben’s arms locked around her stomach.

That was Ryan’s favorite part of this. How She’d keep talking to him with a wide, happy expression that Butcher had called Her ditzy fuckin Soldier Boy smile, and Ben would just look at Her.

Ryan really liked how Ben looked at Her. It was an expression of something soft and powerful that he’d only ever seen on Ben’s face, only ever directed at her. It was relaxed and adoring, but still solemn and firm in the only way Ben seemed to know how to be. Like She might be the only thing that Ben knew was real, and he wasn’t bothered by that at all.

It wasn’t like Dad had looked at Stormfront. That had been meaner. Like they were always in a fight—not one of Her and Ben’s play fights, which were more like a cat and a dog swatting at each other before the dog flopped over, and the cat climbed on top of it, but instead a violent, bloody war—and were trying to see who’d snap first. Dad had looked at Stormfront like he was waiting for her to stab him, but wasn’t sure she would.

Ben looked at Her like he’d handed her the knife to carve into his body, and She’d made a face and thrown it away. 

Ryan hadn’t really ever seen Butcher look at Mom, but he hoped it had been a little like that. It was what Mom had deserved, even if Butcher could be a cock fuck bitch with his head tonguing his own ass, in Ben’s words.

But Butcher was getting better. He’d apologized for saying Ryan had hurt Mom—he hadn’t meant to, he never meant to, and he still had nightmares where Mom’s guts were spilling out of her body, and she looked right through Ryan like he was a ghost—and mostly didn’t talk to Ryan about Dad anymore.

Nobody really liked to talk to Ryan about Dad. Ryan knew She would, if he asked, but he didn’t want to ask. He’d never forget what Butcher had shown him—about Mom and Dad and Her—or how, for the first two months Ryan had lived with everyone, She’d been gone because of Dad. Because of Ryan. 

Not your fucking fault, kid. She’d kill me if I let you blame yourself for your pussy fuck dad’s actions.

That was why Ryan talked to Ben about it. He didn’t coddle or lie or sweeten the truth, he just grunted words that—when Ben said them—always seemed to be the inherent truth. Dad wasn’t Ryan’s fault, and Ryan was getting stronger, and it was okay that Ryan got afraid because it he wasn’t a pathetic fucking dickless pussy about it.

Ryan asked Ben if it was okay to hurt people, and Ben told him if they fucking deserve it, but only if they deserve it, and Ryan decided that sounded right. And She said most people didn’t deserve to be hurt, and very few things were truly unforgivable, so Ryan could try to figure out what things were really wrong, and then hurt the people that really deserved it.

Dad deserved it. When Ryan wasn’t afraid of Dad, he was angry at him. 

“Do you get angry?” He’d mumbled over a breakfast in Her and Ben’s apartment, and She’d hummed, tilting her head.

“I do. We all do. Anger is our brains telling us that something is unfair, and a lot of this isn’t really fair. So yeah, I get angry.”

Ryan had nodded slowly, turning to Ben as he approached the table from the kitchen. “Ben, do you-“ 

“Course I fucking get angry.” Ben had dumped three large pancakes onto Ryan’s plate, then two larger ones onto Her’s, then a smaller one onto his own, and ignored Her glare as he dropped into his seat. “This whole goddamn thing-“

She’d cleared her throat, eyes narrowed at Ben. “Benjamin.”

“What-“

She’d given a pointed look to his plate, then back to him. “You need to eat as well.”

“I’ll be fine, Sunshine, you and the kid need more than I do-“

She’d cut one of Her pancakes in half, moving the bigger piece to Ben’s plate, and he’d scowled. They’d both been silent, glaring at each other for almost a minute, and then Ben had grunted. She’d leaned back into her chair with a smug grin, and everything had moved on.

Neither of them had been mad, though. Ryan had thought that glaring and frowning was only about hatred, but when She and Ben glowered at each other it seemed to be more of a standoff. An act or show or contest of affection that neither of them ever seemed to be upset about losing.

They were never really mad at each other at all. Ryan had seen them yell at and taunt and mock each other, but there always seemed to be something under it that sounded like I love you. I’m allowed to call you a dumb dumb or pain in the ass, because I love you and we both know I don’t mean it, because I’m “fighting” with you, but I’m also holding onto you like you’re a buoy in the storm.

Ryan wanted to love someone like that. He wanted someone to love him like that. Because Ben never seemed to really think she was mad at him, even when she called him a cunt or idiot or asshole. Ryan himself didn’t think she was ever really mad at Ben, because he’d watch Her hit Ben’s arm with a fake pout or glare, but she’d never flinch or cower away from him. She was always touching Ben, and she was never afraid of him. Ben had hurt people, Ben was just as dangerous as Ryan was, but She only touched and looked at him like he’d fallen from heaven for her to have. She always kept her hand in Ben’s, or her body in his arms, or their legs pressed together. And she always looked for him. And She always seemed to be happier when she was talking to and looking at Ben, with just his presence never failing to make her smile.

And Ben loved Her. It seemed like love in movies Ryan had watched with Mom, or that he’d read about in books he’d found tucked in corners of Butcher’s apartment. But real. Ryan didn’t think Ben was capable of being really, truly mad at Her, and she seemed to know it. Ben would roll his eyes at Her, and grumble that she was brat, or glare at her in a way that would be dangerous if it wasn’t at Her. Whenever Ben glared at Her it was so painfully fake Ryan wondered if Butcher had been lying when he’d told Ryan not to mention love around those two twats, they ain’t aware that they’re fuckin obsessed with each other yet after She’d returned, because Ben didn’t seem capable looking at Her with anything but love painted over his features.

They certainly knew now. Everyone knew, because every third sentence out of Ben’s mouth was another declaration of love for Her. Every single thing Ben did seemed to be something for Her. Ryan would eat dinner with them, and he’d see Ben pass Her a fistful of stolen chocolate under the table. He’d watch a movie with them, and She’d would be holding Ben’s arms against Her, and Ben would kiss her in the dark and snort at her jokes and get Her and Ryan snacks whenever either of them so much as mentioned the word hungry. He’d train with Ben, and ask a question about punching, and Ben would grumble about how She said you could punch people and be a pacifist, like Muhammad Ali, and she was always fucking right about that shit. And She was a genius. And a better person than every other fucking pussy on the planet, so they should both fucking listen to her. 

Ben carried Her in his arms wherever she let him, and She never stopped smiling at him, and Ryan had decided that if he ever loved someone—far in the future, when Dad was just a faint, reoccurring nightmare—he’d love them like Ben loved Her.

Ryan would never be like Homelander, because he’d never lock up or hurt people he loved. Ryan would be like Ben. And that felt easier, because Ben never demanded that Ryan follow in his steps. He was just there, and trustworthy, and Ryan wanted to be strong like him. He wanted to protect people and do things for them. He wanted to never speak or think of his Dad again, because really their family was Ben and Her, a stained hole that didn’t really matter and Ben wouldn’t let hurt them, and Ryan. It was Butcher forgiving Ryan, because he was trying, and She said the most important thing anyone could do was try to be better. 

He was really trying to be better. Ryan didn’t really trust people, but he trusted Her and Ben when they said that this wasn’t his fault. He believed them when they told him what he knew, that Ryan really didn’t mean to hurt people.

And Ryan hoped that, after Homelander was dead, he’d get to have a life where they kept smiling at each other—and him—and Ryan never was made to hurt someone again.

End Note: Catch Ben in his Dad era, coming to a No Love Lost chapter near you (in all seriousness I hope you guys liked the extra pov! An outside perspective on how down bad they both are was very fun to write)

If you like this story, reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask!

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd

[pandapetals]

Mutant Support Group

worst logan/wolverine x wade wilson x fem!reader - a mini love triangle if you blink you'll miss it, reader is a therapist, mutant support group, humor, wade being wade, logan brooding, no y/n used, no reader description

Logan and Wade are court-ordered to attend a mutant support group and you are the therapist.

prompt idea from @Silverskyeline from their logan promptober: #9-deadpool

“Welcome to the mutant support group,” you began, standing in front of the circle of mismatched chairs. The room was filled with an assortment of mutants, each wearing varying degrees of skepticism, boredom, or outright hostility. You tried to keep your tone steady and professional, but you could feel the tension in the air. “This is a safe place to share your feelings.”

The words felt stiff, rehearsed, like a script you were obligated to follow, and Wade picked up on it immediately.

He snorted, leaning back in his chair with a loud creak. “Wow, stellar opener, doc. Really heartfelt. Almost moved me to tears.” He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye with exaggerated drama. “Just so we’re clear, I’m only here ‘cause it's court-ordered and because I didn’t want big ol’ Wolverine over here going all lone-wolf brooding by himself. Figured he could use the emotional support.” Wade nodded toward Logan, who was glaring at him from across the circle.

Logan shot Wade a look that could’ve melted steel. “I don’t need your support, Wilson.”

“Oh, I beg to differ, bub.” Wade grinned, leaning forward conspiratorially like they were the best of friends instead of two guys who spent 99% of their time trying to avoid killing each other. “Who else is gonna make sure you don’t go full feral on the rest of the class?” He gave a wide-eyed, mock gasp. “Or, God forbid, scare away our lovely therapist here?”

Your eyes flicked between the two of them. Logan, arms crossed, sat rigid in his chair like it might break under the weight of his frustration. Wade, on the other hand, had practically made himself at home, legs sprawled out, clearly enjoying the fact that his mere presence was getting under Logan’s skin.

You tried to keep your cool. After all, you were the professional here but the banter between them was... entertaining. In a chaotic, slightly insane sort of way.

“I don’t scare that easy,” you said with a small smile, trying to lighten the tension. “So, let’s try to keep things civil.”

Logan grunted, shifting in his seat. “I don’t see why I’m even here. I’m not the one who put someone in the hospital.”

Wade raised a hand. “Okay, to be fair, that guy walked into my katana. Not my fault.”

You sighed, glancing at the notes you had prepared, which now seemed completely useless. “This isn’t about blaming anyone. It’s about working through—”

“Feelings,” Wade interrupted, putting air quotes around the word, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I know. Logan’s great at those. Really opens up. He’s like a freakin’ flower—just blooms with emotional vulnerability.”

Logan’s scowl deepened, his knuckles white as he clenched them. “Wilson, if you don’t shut up, I’ll—”

You raised a hand, cutting off Logan before things got any more tense. “Logan,” you said, keeping your tone calm, even though you could feel the storm brewing between them. “I know this might not be your ideal setting, but it might help to—”

“Help?” Logan huffed, glancing up at you with a mix of irritation and something else you couldn’t quite place. His hazel eyes met yours briefly before he looked away, jaw tightening. “No offense, but sitting in a circle talkin’ about feelings isn’t exactly my thing.”

Wade leaned in with a smirk. “Oh, come on, you can tell her anything. She’s great! And I betcha she’s got a soft spot for grumpy, hairy guys with commitment issues. It’s basically a guarantee.”

Logan looked like he was two seconds from lunging across the circle at Wade, but your voice stopped him again, cutting through the tension.

“You both might be surprised at what talking can do,” you said, keeping your tone even, though the corners of your mouth tugged up at Wade’s antics. “I know this isn’t easy for either of you, but I’m here to help.” You glanced at Logan, who was now staring intently at the floor, his muscles still coiled tight. “And trust me, I’ve dealt with worse.”

Wade perked up, flashing you an exaggerated grin. “Worse than this?” He gestured between himself and Logan. “You mean you’ve had to deal with two incredibly handsome, but emotionally stunted, killing machines before?”

You bit back a laugh, trying to remain professional. “You’d be surprised.”

Logan snorted, finally looking up at you. “I doubt that.”

There was a flicker of something behind his usual gruffness, a warmth that caught you off guard. He still looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, but there was an unspoken gratitude in his eyes, almost as if he appreciated the fact that you hadn’t given up on him, even if he wasn’t sure why you cared in the first place.

You met his gaze for a moment longer, something unsaid passing between you before you turned back to the group at large. “Alright,” you said, trying to get things back on track, “Let’s get started. Maybe we can talk about what brings us here.”

Wade raised his hand, the grin never leaving his face. “Oh, oh! I’ll go first. I’m here to annoy Logan and maybe impress the lovely therapist with my devastating charm.”

Logan grunted, rolling his eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that broke across your face. This session wasn’t going to go as planned. You knew that much. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

At least you had Wade’s chaotic humor to lighten the tension—and Logan’s brooding presence, which, as much as you’d never admit out loud, had its own undeniable charm.

“Alright, Wade,” you said, settling into your chair. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

Logan groaned, already regretting every second of this, while Wade winked at you, clearly ready to keep pushing every button he could find.

This was going to be an interesting session.

A few sessions in, and the mutant support group was... an experience. You had expected a challenge, but Wade was turning it into something else entirely. While most of the mutants in the group had gradually started opening up, Wade had taken things to a whole new level—oversharing, making inappropriate jokes, and somehow managing to turn every topic back to himself.

He was thriving. And it was exhausting.

"—so anyway, after the third time I got decapitated, I figured maybe I should rethink my career choices," Wade was saying, leaning back in his chair, completely at ease. The rest of the group looked on in various stages of disbelief, irritation, or outright boredom. "But then I realized, nah. Can’t give up now. Plus, my head grows back, so, you know, no harm, no foul.”

A collective sigh filled the room. One of the younger mutants, a girl with telekinetic abilities, was openly massaging her temples like Wade’s stories were causing a migraine. The others just stared at him, their eyes glazing over.

You tried to maintain your professional smile, though it was getting harder. Wade’s openness wasn’t the problem; it was the constant stream of over-the-top stories, mixed with his strange attempts to impress everyone—especially you. He had a way of turning therapy into stand-up comedy, and while it was endearing at first, now it was starting to grate on everyone’s nerves.

“Well, that’s... an interesting experience, Wade,” you said, trying to steer the conversation back to the group. “Does anyone else want to share something today?”

Before anyone could respond, Wade leaned forward, his mask pulled up just enough to show his mouth. “Come on, you know you want more. I haven’t even gotten to the part where I fought a bear. With one arm. While naked.” He paused, then winked in your direction. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

Logan, sitting next to Wade, let out a long, low growl, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He hadn’t said much during any of the sessions, but his patience for Wade’s antics was clearly wearing thin. “Will you shut up already?” Logan grumbled, shooting Wade a look that could’ve curdled milk.

Wade turned to Logan, unfazed. “Why so grumpy, Logan? I thought this was a support group. We’re supposed to support each other. I’m supporting you by entertaining everyone with my tragic yet hilarious life stories. You, on the other hand, just sit there, brooding. Which, I gotta admit, works for you, but it’s not very group-friendly.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t need your support. Or your damn stories.”

You tried to intervene before things escalated, holding up a hand. “Wade, maybe we can give someone else a turn to speak?”

Wade threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop hogging the spotlight. But seriously, if anyone wants to hear more about my harrowing yet oddly inspirational bear fight, I’ll be here after the session.”

The rest of the group groaned collectively, but Wade just smiled, clearly unbothered.

Your eyes flicked to Logan, who hadn’t said more than a few words since the sessions began. He sat in the same spot every week—arms crossed, face set in a permanent scowl, like he was counting down the minutes until he could leave. You could tell he was listening, absorbing everything in his own way, but getting him to open up was like trying to crack a safe.

“Logan,” you said gently, your voice pulling him out of his quiet fury at Wade. “You don’t have to share if you’re not ready, but this space is here for you, too. No pressure, but if you ever feel like talking... we’re all here to listen.”

His gaze shifted to you for a moment, those intense hazel eyes studying you like he was weighing something. You’d caught him looking at you like that before, but he always quickly looked away, never letting you in. He was as guarded as ever, a fortress of frustration, anger, and something deeper you hadn’t quite figured out yet.

“I ain’t got nothin’ to say,” he muttered finally, his gaze dropping back to the floor. “This whole thing’s a waste of time.”

Wade gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “A waste of time? Logan, how dare you! Do you know how much I’ve grown as a person in this safe, non-judgmental environment?” He turned to the group with wide eyes. “I’m a changed man! Who here feels that Logan needs to open up? Show of hands.”

A few hesitant hands went up, mostly out of fear that Wade would never stop talking if they didn’t agree.

Logan rolled his eyes, his fists clenching. “I swear to God, Wilson—”

Before Logan could finish his threat, Wade leaned over, clapping him on the shoulder. “Come on, big guy, it’s okay. We all know you’ve got a lot of pent-up aggression, but you know what? This lovely lady here—” he gestured toward you with a grin, “—she’s great with feelings. She’ll fix you right up. You just have to... let go.”

Logan shot you an almost apologetic look as if to say I don’t know how you deal with this guy, but still, he remained quiet, his walls firmly in place.

You smiled softly, not pushing any further. “Logan, whenever you’re ready. It’s your call.”

Wade, clearly ignoring the tension, leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Well, at least someone appreciates my openness. I’m like an emotional onion—just peeling back the layers. Logan, on the other hand...” He gestured to Logan, who looked like he was seriously considering stabbing Wade. “He’s more like an emotional rock. Very sturdy. Not much peeling going on.”

The group chuckled awkwardly, though Logan’s expression remained unchanged.

You decided to end the session before Logan could actually strangle Wade. “Alright, let’s wrap up for today. We’ll pick things up next week.”

As the group began to file out, Wade stayed behind, shooting you a wink. “See you next time, doc. Maybe then we’ll finally get Logan to cry. I bet he’s got a whole waterfall of emotions just waiting to burst out.”

Logan grunted as he stood, giving Wade a dark look. “You’re gonna be the one crying, Wilson, if you don’t shut up.”

Wade laughed, clearly enjoying the threat. “Promises, promises.”

You watched the two of them leave, shaking your head. This support group was definitely not going as planned, but there was something oddly endearing about the dynamic between them. Logan’s silence was a challenge you weren’t ready to give up on, and Wade... well, Wade was Wade.

Another week, another session. The support group had become its own kind of spectacle. Mutants of all kinds still attended, most of them initially for the mandatory requirement, but now… now there was something more.

Logan and Wade were still the centerpiece of the chaos, of course. Wade, usually holding court with his unfiltered, never-ending monologues, and Logan, silently fuming, arms always crossed, like he was about two seconds away from storming out.

But today felt different.

You could sense it as soon as the session began. Wade, uncharacteristically, was quiet. Well, quiet for him—he’d cracked a few jokes, sure, but something was off. Logan, too, seemed a little more relaxed than usual, though his expression remained unreadable as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes focused anywhere but on you or the rest of the group.

The session began like always, with a few of the regulars sharing their progress—small victories, frustrations, the typical back-and-forth you had come to expect. Wade remained unusually silent, nodding thoughtfully as others spoke. The room wasn’t used to this, and even Logan raised an eyebrow at him, suspicious.

Eventually, all eyes shifted to Logan. He’d spent weeks in the background, listening, brooding, while Wade made a circus of it all. But now, there was a quietness in the room, a moment where he could step in if he wanted to.

You leaned forward slightly, your voice gentle but encouraging. “Logan, do you want to say something today?”

He didn’t move at first, his gaze fixed on the ground. His jaw clenched, the familiar tension rolling through his body. Wade shot him a glance, then—shockingly—said nothing, waiting like everyone else. The room was still, all eyes on Logan.

For a moment, it seemed like he might shrug it off again like he had done so many times before. But then, after what felt like an eternity, Logan exhaled, his arms uncrossing as he sat forward in his chair.

“I’ve been through a lotta shit,” he said gruffly, his voice low and rough like he was dragging the words out from somewhere deep inside. His eyes flicked up to yours briefly before settling back on the ground. “More than most people can understand. Seen things… done things I ain’t proud of.”

Everyone stayed silent, hanging on his words, even Wade, who, for once, didn’t make a single joke.

“I don’t talk about it,” Logan continued, his voice quieter now, almost like he was speaking to himself. “Because what’s the point? It’s always the same. I get close to people, they get hurt, or they die. Or I do something that screws it all up.”

His words hung heavy in the air, a thick tension filling the room. You could feel the weight of his pain, the years of guilt and loss that had shaped him into the man sitting before you. But even more than that, there was a vulnerability in his voice that hadn’t been there before—a crack in the armor he wore so tightly around himself.

“I don’t belong here,” Logan muttered, shaking his head, his hands flexing into fists. “This group, this—talkin’ about feelings, it ain’t gonna fix anything. What’s done is done.”

You watched him carefully, your heart aching at the rawness in his voice. “Maybe it won’t fix things,” you said gently, meeting his gaze, “but you’re not alone, Logan. Sometimes just being able to share it with someone else, knowing they’re listening… it helps.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, but there was something different in his eyes—less guarded, less closed off. The room was utterly silent, everyone still reeling from the fact that Logan had actually spoken about his past, about his feelings. You could see the flicker of understanding in the other mutants’ faces, the connection they felt with his struggle.

And then, just when the moment was at its most tense, Wade—of all people—broke the silence.

“Well,” Wade said, his voice surprisingly soft, “that was... beautifully tragic, Logan. Really. Heartfelt. You’re like a grumpy, Canadian Hemingway.”

Logan shot him a look, but there was no bite to it. “Shut up, Wilson.”

Wade grinned but quickly raised his hands. “I know, I know. I’m kidding.” He looked around the room, then—much to everyone’s shock—leaned forward, his voice dropping in volume, becoming almost... serious. “Look, uh… I’ve been thinking.”

Everyone turned to Wade, clearly expecting some kind of joke, but his usual smirk was gone. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, glancing at you briefly before looking down at the floor.

“I talk a lot. Like, a lot,” Wade admitted, his voice quieter than anyone had ever heard it. “And I know I drive everyone crazy with it, but the thing is… I do it because... well, I don’t know how else to act. It’s easier to joke around than actually deal with stuff, you know?”

Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.

Wade glanced around the room, then back at you, his tone almost sheepish. “But I guess... I’ve been trying to—uh—maybe make a better impression on someone here.” His eyes flickered to you briefly before he quickly looked away, trying to hide the faint flush that crept up his neck. “You know... actually let people talk for once.”

You blinked, surprised, unsure if you were reading between the lines correctly. Wade had always been a handful, never taking anything seriously. Yet here he was, essentially admitting—albeit in his own strange way—that he was trying to improve. For you.

Logan looked at Wade, then at you, catching the unspoken confession in Wade’s tone. His expression darkened slightly, his jaw clenching. There was no verbal acknowledgment, but you could sense the tension between the two men heightening, a silent competition rising between them.

“Well,” you said after a beat, trying to diffuse the moment with a smile, “I appreciate that, Wade. I think everyone does.”

Wade beamed at you, clearly pleased, but Logan’s eyes remained on you, his expression unreadable, a mix of emotions brewing beneath the surface. He had opened up, just a crack, but the way he watched you now—intense, focused—it was clear there was something more behind those guarded hazel eyes.

You felt the weight of Logan’s gaze, the intensity in it stirring something deep inside you, but you kept your focus on the group, trying not to let the tension unravel the fragile calm you had built.

As the session wrapped up, Logan lingered by the door, his posture tense, his gaze following you as you spoke with the other members. Wade, for once, didn’t make any more jokes, just offered a small wave before heading out.

But Logan stayed.

As the room emptied, he finally approached you, his expression unreadable, his voice low. “Thanks for… earlier,” he muttered, his gaze flickering to the floor before meeting yours again. “I don’t know if it helps, but... maybe you’re right.”

You smiled softly, your chest tightening at the vulnerability in his tone. “Anytime, Logan. I’m here if you need to talk more.”

He didn’t respond; he just gave a brief nod, the weight of his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him.

You stood there for a moment, your heart still racing, the echo of his words hanging in the air. Something had shifted between the three of you, and though you weren’t sure where it would lead, one thing was certain: Logan and Wade—both in their own ways—were working to become better versions of themselves.

Whether you realized it or not, you had become the reason they were trying. 

[notyourhetloki]

sleepover (Ken x GN Reader)

Reader: gender neutral

/Ken x Doll!Reader/

A/N: Hey! So... my requests are closed BUT with you'd like anything about this pretty himbo I would love to write it! Just send me a message ;)

Warnings: Technically SFW but very suggestive themes, I think "kissing laying down" would be equivalent to sex in Barbieland so… yeah. THEY DON'T HAVE GENITALS.

—

Now that Ken was your official boyfriend and you had gone on several dates together, you decided it was time for the next step.

When you invited Ken for a sleepover at your house, he almost burst into tears at how happy he was... but of course, he tried playing it cool. "Sure, doll."

In your bedroom, you watched movies as you played dress up, trying to match as many outfits as possible. You painted each other's nails and brushed each other's hair, gossiping about other dolls... you had a lot of fun!

As the night continued, you grew closer and closer to each other. Sitting on your bed with thighs and shoulders touching. He just couldn't wait any longer, so he went for it eventually.

Ken kissed you tenderly at first, holding the side of your face with one hand and holding yours with the other. You had kissed a hundred times by now, but it always felt like the first time...

Then, the kiss deepened. Ken was now holding you by the waist, desperate for some more contact... you hummed in approval as his tongue grazed yours and he smiled against your lips.

You parted to breathe, and a thought came to your mind... it felt a little dirty, but you assumed Ken wouldn't judge you. "Ken, what if... what if we like, kiss but... laying down?"

He gasped, putting his hand against his mouth. You soon realized he was blushing HARD, and you regretted saying anything. "Sorry! Am I going too fast? I didn't want to-"

"No! It's ok! I mean, I didn't think you'd ask, but... I'm down for it. I... really want to." Ken looked at you with soft blue eyes, almost pleading. He would never admit it but he was really needy, and just the thought of being more intimate with you made him shake in excitement.

"Oh! Ok, then... c'mere, baby." He loved when you called him 'baby', so he gladly obliged, laying down next to you on your bed. You started kissing immediately, hands roaming all over.

After what felt like a few minutes, Ken suddenly moved to be on top of you, kissing your jaw, then down your neck... A sound escaped your throat and you weren't quite sure what it was. But you liked it... really much.

"Ken... you're so good..." you whispered, and immediately you felt him shiver. God how he loved to be praised... it made his entire day, week even. He adored being praised by YOU specifically, and those words... in these circumstances... it made him feel something he didn't quite understand yet. Like a heat in his chest, in his belly... he wanted more.

"(Y/N)... please... say that again..." His eyes suddenly darker by his blown-out pupils, mouth slightly agape, hair all messy... he looked beautiful.

"You're so good, Ken... You're amazing..." You were cut out by his mouth crashing into yours, lips working fiercely while tongues danced around. It was messy, something you two were not accustomed to. It felt dirty but so good... you grasped Ken by his hair and he hummed in approval, while he grabbed at your waist and thighs, making you whine.

He eventually moved to your neck again, and you had the chance to think out loud. "This is how they do it in the Real World, right?"

Slightly out of breath, Ken looked up at you and responded. "Most definitely."

You two would make out for hours, grabbing and touching and kissing until you grew tired and decided to sleep. You hugged Ken from behind while he adjusted in your bed, completely overjoyed.

In the morning, while having breakfast, you two discussed the night before. "Woah... it was awesome. Like, the best experience I've ever had!" Ken exclaimed energetically. "Maybe next time we can do it like the movies?"

You looked at him in innocent confusion, expecting him to elaborate. "You know, with... less clothes..." His head was slightly down, so his eyes went up to meet yours, just like a puppy. You blushed hard at the thought, but smiled and nodded, seeing his expression change from pleading to relief to happiness in a matter of seconds. "Cool."

"Like the movies, huh? How long have you been thinking about that?"

"Uh... for a while now." He admitted, bringing his hand behind his head and flexing his bicep in the process, drawing a big smile from you.

"So... do you have any plans for tonight?" You asked mischievously, resting your head on your hands.

Ken looked right into your eyes before licking his lips and imitating your pose. "For you, I'm always available."

—

[frecklystars]

- ̗̀˚₊· ♡ Smoke break 🚬 ☆ ˚₊· ̖́-

[angelofthenight]

Kenchanted Pt.1

(Ken x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Lost in the chaotic and gritty human world, you come to Ken’s rescue. He’s determined to find his one true love who is also lost in the human world, Barbie, and despite your cynical and pessimistic view of “true love”, you help. You and Ken’s views of life and love are constantly clashing and arguments constantly follow. Yet the more time you spend together, you both begin to fall in love with the epitome of everything you once disagreed with. But you are both promised to others and you are from two different worlds, pink and grey.

Warnings: Swearing, V brief harassment (nothing intense), YN thinks Ken is mentally ill/disturbed, Mentions of police

( Super special thanks for my pookie mutual @detectiveapparatiagreen for proofreading for triggers💖 )

Word Count: 3.5k

Tropes Used: Grumpy x Sunshine, She fell first/He fell harder, Slow burn, Unexpected/Unintentional pining, Fantasy vs Reality

( This is based off the Disney movie Enchanted so it’s kinda like an AU, with a touch of Warm Bodies and Aquamarine. Also I named YN’s boyfriend after Oppenheimer in honor of Barbenheimer but I just realized that a Robert is in Enchanted too😭. Also this is steering off a bit from canon in the Barbie movie to cater more to Enchanted’s storyline so Ken doesn’t become a typical man/antagonist.

And lastly YN is basically Ken’s opposite personality-wise and clothing color palette-wise, I typically always have all my YN’s fashion style ambiguous in my stories unless it’s a direct effect to the story so that’s why I’m just forewarning )

Table of Contents

(R/n) = Roommates name

“God, learn to have a little fun, bitch!”

You flipped out your middle finger over your shoulder as you walked away without looking back at the man near the bar. Despite your platant rejections and constant explanations that you were about to leave the club, the man that approached you with sexual intentions still ran his mouth on how you should let him buy you a drink. You endlessly declined and when he began to grow impatient and rude that’s when you told him off and marched off to find your roommate, (R/n), in the crowd who had gone to retrieve your coats.

The music thrusted into your eardrums and rumbled your brain so intensely you wondered if you’d be able to get away with calling off work the next morning. You leaned against a wall to take off your heels, leaving your feet in just your pantyhose as (R/n) reunited with you holding both hers and your own jacket in her arms. She laid your jacket over your shoulders and you instantly huddled it around your short dress to prepare to step into the breezy, rainy night.

“Of course the night we finally have the energy to go clubbing is the night we have work in the early morning.” (R/n) chuckled into your ear as the two of you left through the doors in giggles. Once out into the storming outdoors, (R/n) and you stood by a wall under some shade as she began to order an uber through her phone to get you guys back home. You yawned as you people watched while you waited for her to order, letting your eyes wander and linger on the LA characters that either rushed past you with jackets over their head or walking with umbrellas.

Some you could assume were clubbing like you, some ran to catch cabs, some looked to be just getting out of work. Each person that crossed your line of vision were all different and unique… but there was one specific individual that made you do a double-take: the bleach blond man wearing rollerblades and blindingly bright neon that stood out in the dark night.

He was sitting on the curb of the sidewalk getting drenched by the rain with his head in his hands, seemingly sobbing dramatically. You frowned in concern and curiosity. You faintly nudged your friend. “Is that guy okay?” Your friend looked up at you with confusion until she looked over to where your eyes were locked. She wasn’t as worried as you and simply brushed him off. “Huh? Oh… Just leave him to it.”

That offered no apathy to cease your attention on the bold man. You just couldn’t brush him off no matter how hard you tried, it was like you were feeling this magnetic pull towards him. “I’m just gonna go check on him.” You told your friend as you stepped into the thundering storm with your hand acting as a shield above your eyes to prevent rain hitting them, and began walking towards the perfectly tanned stranger.

You stopped once you were right next to him, the cold droplets of water quickly dampening your styled hair. “Hey. Are you alright?” You said, loud enough for him to hear you over the rain.

The bleach blond thrashed his face out of his hands to look up at you with tears endlessly flooding out of his blue eyes and his lips trembling. “No! I am not alright!” He loudly wailed out. “Barbie got arrested! And they wouldn’t take me with her! I tried to follow them but then I got lost in this humongous place! But while I was wandering I discovered that men on horses rule this world and at first that seemed so awesome but I still couldn’t even do anything because I need a bunch of papers to do stuff! And even though I am a man, people are still not being very nice to me!”

He already lost you a while ago with his fast yet confusing words which prompted you to stare blankly, but his last complaint resonated with you enough to erupt a chuckle from you. “Yeah, well, welcome to LA.”

The man halted his dramatic crying to stare at you with his watering eyes lighting up. “Thank you.” He breathed out with a sniffle and a grateful tone of voice. Your smile twitched down and your brows furrowed at him.

“And I lost my visor cap! And now I am leaking from my eyes!” He suddenly exclaimed as he touched his wet cheeks. “But the worst part of it all is…” he reached up to grip onto his soaking wet blond locks, “my hair is WET! Why is the sky sprinkling water and making my hair flat and squishy?!” He yelled and physically jumped and yelped like a child when lightning cracked in the sky.

You didn’t mean to just stare blankly stare at him with your mouth slightly open and your eyebrows slightly furrowed, but you just didn’t know how to react to how this man, who you were now assuming wasn’t right in the head, was acting. “You mean the rain?” You finally asked with multiple confused blinks.

The man harshly sniffled again. “Well, I HATE the rain!” He yelled while glaring up at the sky like he now had a vengeful grudge against it.

You kneeled down next to him to be at eye-level. “Do you have your phone with you? Or any money?” The man wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ve never owned a phone.” He looked back over to you, the rain dripping down his face washing his tears away. “And what would I need money for?”

You blinked, dumbfounded in its rawest form. You just stared at him again with a complete loss for words at his question. You looked him up and down, taking in every neon detail on his skater outfit. You probably looked like you were seeing an alien for the first time. “…Do you need me to call somebody for you?”

He vaguely chuckled with a small smile as he looked at you like you were the weird one. “I don't think they'd hear you from here.” Again, your jaw went slack at your loss for words; intense confusion baffling you. “What?”

You glanced around, trying to find some sort of camera crew. Your eyes returned to the blond man who cradled his knees to his chest and reached up to touch his wet hair. He was pouting and wearing the saddest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen on a grown man. You needed to help this poor, troubled guy.

“What’s your name?” He took his hand out of his hair and released his knees, letting his legs fall straight as he looked at his neon strain roller blades. “Ken.” “No, like, what’s your full name?” You added. He tore his eyes off his feet to look back at you. “Kenneth or And Ken.”

You forced an awkward laugh and smile as you tried to hide how you were beginning to lose your patience. “No, what’s your last name?” Ken gave you another weird look. “How many names do you people have?”

Your frown began to deepen as your annoyance began to grow visible in your features. “…So it’s just Ken?” You asked, a slight snap to your voice. “Well it’s usually Barbie and Ken.” Ken explained with a pep to his own voice. Your brows crinkled, “You keep mentioning Barbie. Like the doll? Are you named after Barbie’s boyfriend Ken or something?”

Ken shook his head with a toothy smile. “No, I am Ken.”

‘This guy must have escaped from the ward.’ You mentally noted. “Where exactly are you from, Ken?” You asked, hoping to get a solid enough answer to help you navigate where he needs to get to.

“Barbieland.” Ken answered without hesitation, leaving you once again baffled. A loud thunderclap snapped you back into your senses as the rain began to pick up. You looked over your shoulder at (R/n) who pointed at her phone, trying to tell you the uber was about to pull up. You looked back to Ken who returned to sadly staring at his rollerblades and clutching his sopping wet hair.

You pursed your lips together, deep in debating thought, until you let out a groaning sigh. You rose to your feet and draped your jacket over Ken’s head and shoulders. He looked up at you with surprise and opened his mouth to say something but you strictly cut him off. “Stay right here, I’ll be right back.” You instructed him before rushing over to your dry friend.

“Okay, so Boris will be picking us up in a gray Toyota and I’ll just request what you owe me on Paypal-” “I think we should take him with us.” You cut (R/n) off as she watched the tracking map on Uber, her eyes snapping up towards you. She glanced over at Ken getting pretty comfortable in your jacket on the sidewalk curb before looking back at you with an eyebrow raise.

“(Y/n), what?” Now she was the baffled one looking at an alien over how out-of-character your request was. However, a smirk stretched across her lips. “Usually I’m the one wanting to bring home strange men at night.” You rolled your eyes and gave her a glare. “It’s not like that.” You glimpsed over your shoulder at Ken.

“That guy is the farthest thing from my type as you can get.”

You turned back to (R/n). “And you know I would never do that to Rob.”

(R/n) visibly cringed and shut her eyes, holding her hand up to stop you. “Ew, I’ve told you before I don’t like to hear that guys name on girls night.” You slapped her hand out of your face. “We’re not gonna have this argument again right now.” You grumbled, knowing how passionate (R/n) was about verbalizing her distaste for your boyfriend Rob. She shook her head. “We’re not because you didn’t say his name.”

You sighed, dismissing that whole rift in the conversation. “I just can’t leave him like this. He’s lost and confused and will get sick in this rain.” You explained to your roommate who didn’t seem to even mind. “As long as I don’t have to give up my room or share my morning waffles and we lock our bedrooms. And if he ends up being a thief or murderer or rap-” You cut her off.

“He’s not staying the night. I just wanna get him out of the rain and send him back to whatever mental institution he came from. He is not staying the night.” You stated with a stern expression. He’d be out of your apartment quicker than he got there. It’s not that you didn’t have room for a guest, other than prioritizing you and your friends safety, you just didn’t want to take care of this crazy man any more than you had to.

After (R/n) told you you’d be taking the heavier load on the overall cost, you hurried back over to Ken who was still wrapped up comfortably in your jacket. You planted your hand softly on his shoulder, grabbing his attention rather quickly. “Come on, Ken. You can get dry at my place and we’ll try and get you home.”

Ken’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and tried to stumble up to his feet due to his rollerblades before you grabbed his muscular arm to help him up safely. You pushed away the observation of how tall he actually was when he stood up to focus more on wheeling him over to the Uber (R/n) was waving you over to.

~

Ken skated circles around you and (R/n) as you walked down the hallway of your apartment building as he talked your ear off. “-and then we had to ride a snowmobile through the snow, which was very cold and not good for my hair. And then that’s when we rollerbladed into Venice Beach. Barbie did not like your world by the way, like within the first second we got there her mood instantly bummed out. And then-”

As soon as you got him seated in the car, he instantly began telling you how he got to that sidewalk curb that somehow involved his whole life story. You tuned him out about halfway through, you just couldn’t comprehend what he was telling you; Barbieland, Barbie, disco parties, Kens, Barbies, beaching, Mattel, a portal, Barbie’s flat feet, horses.

It was crazy to you. His story, his words, his personality, his clothes, quite literally everything about him. You nearly began to regret picking up just another LA nutjob on the street.

“-and now I’m here with you tired looking ladies in this kinda ugly, gloomy building. They should paint these walls a brighter color. Like pink! Or blue!” Ken joyfully said with his wide smile never faltering as he continued to skate down the halls. His upbeat energy was beginning to sicken you.

He started to skate backwards to continue talking into your annoyed face. “But don’t worry, I'm positive that Barbie is already out of jail and looking for me. No doubt by morning she'll come and pick me up and we’ll go home and the two of us will finally kiss under the stars.”

A snigger finally cracked out of you. “Right.” From the snippets of his story you paid attention to, it didn’t sound like this Barbie girl he kept talking about was all that interested in him. You wanted to press on about that but knew you’d just be met with blind stupidity.

(R/n) seemed to be having the opposite reactions and opinions from you as all she did was humor his story and laugh at his jokes. What was entertaining for her was agitating for you. “Well all I can do for you is let you in for a minute so you can dry off.” You asserted as you neared your apartment door.

“Thank you!” Ken chirped out, still clinging to your jacket that was still wrapped around him. “So if she’s (R/n), what’s your name? You never gave me it.” You told him your name and he repeated it out loud, testing it in different voice tones which annoyed you even more. ‘I just need to last another hour or two and then he’s out of my life and out of my sight’ you kept telling yourself to keep your composure.

You finally reached your front door and began to fish out your keys from your purse. You rustled through your stuff and held back your exhausted groan, digging through to find them. Ken’s vibrant neon color palette still blinded your peripheral vision. You fleetingly glanced over to him, “What is it with this outfit of yours anyways?”

Ken looked down at his clothes with a confident smile and placed his hands on his hips. “You like it?” Your brows furrowed together. “No, it's just… I thought you said you didn’t have any money.” “I don’t. Clothes just come to me.” Ken said simply as you finally found your keys.

“Like people give you clothes or you design them?” (R/n) questioned. “No, clothes literally just come to me.” Ken stated with that bright grin still intact with his lips.

You stared at him with that ‘are you serious’ expression. “Why don't we see about getting you a car.” You quickly said before you unlocked your front door.

~

(R/n) approached you in a fit of giggles while you sat at your dining room table scanning over a map for places to drop Ken off. She grasped onto your tense shoulders as she tried to regain a steady breath after her stomach-hurting laughter from something Ken had previously told her.

“C’mon, (Y/n). Can’t he sleep here tonight?” She asked you with a pleading smile. You didn’t spare her a glance and shook your head like a strict mother, your eyes still remaining on the map. “No way.”

(R/n) sighed in disappointment and was about to go back over to the couch where Ken was sitting all wrapped up in towels until she caught the sight of him leaning all the way back into the couch. His eyes blissfully closed and his mouth open enough for a vague snore.

“Um, (Y/n). He looks really tired.” She whispered down to you. Your eyes shot up to see the couch from where you were sitting to witness Ken already fast asleep. “What? Oh, no. That's not acceptable.” You stood up, the intention of physically hurling him off your couch flaring your imagination.

“Are you really gonna make him go?” (R/n) asked sadly with a pout. You turned to her with a glare. Of course you had to be the only sensible one, taking on responsibility. Sometimes you felt like the only adult in a world full of children, the only one with a stable head on their shoulders. “Just go to bed. I’ll handle this.” You asserted.

(R/n) delicately grabbed your arm before you could march over to him. “He’s so funny though, and he seems pretty harmless.” You sighed and turned to her with a softer tone in your expression and eyes. “(R/n), he is a seriously confused and troubled man who's fallen into our laps. All I want to do is get him home.” You explained as plainly as you could.

“So he’s not gonna stay?” (R/n) asked again but put on a brighter smile to try to convince you. “No.” You harshly deadpanned. “Now go to bed.” She huffed but turned on her heels anyway in pursuit of her room.

Once you heard the closing of her door, you made your way over to the snoozing psychopath. With your hands on your hips, you glared down at him as if trying to telepathically make him wake up. You reached down to his arm, about to violently shake him awake, but your fingers halted and hovered over his toned bicep.

You glanced up to his face as you were frozen, mindlessly taking the time to get a proper look at his face for the first time. You nearly couldn’t mentally deny that when he wasn’t rabidly sobbing or babbling his mouth off, he was actually very beautiful. The most beautiful guy you’ve ever actually seen, almost like he was fake. He was too physically perfect.

You snapped yourself out of your admiring daze, almost not believing you got distracted with physical attraction. You deepened your frown and finally pushed your hand against his arm, a weak attempt to wake Mr Sleeping Beauty. You pushed one more time to find he was still fast asleep. You gruffly sighed and pulled out your phone, clicking into the Uber app.

You were just going to send him to the nearest police station, he’ll be the cops’ problem now and Ken can tell them all about his Barbie life. However, before you could hit the final button to get the car your eyes glanced up to Ken once more. Except this time you couldn’t look away as he subconsciously snuggled in the towels wrapped around him.

‘Just push the damn button and get him out of here’ is what you kept yelling at yourself. So why couldn’t you do it? Of course right when it came down to it, you felt yourself going soft for this lunatic… with very blue eyes and an innocent kind of sweet smile. Despite his prettiness and despite his aggravating immaturity, you still felt this gravitational pull towards this strange man.

You sighed and turned off your phone, ruthlessly cursing yourself at your failure to get rid of him. You just couldn’t bring yourself to kick him out, something you knew you were going to regret when he woke up and began talking non-stop again. Still, you found yourself gently laying him properly down across the couch on the pillow and replacing the damp towels with a blanket.

You denied your own small smile at his sleeping form as you left for your bedroom. You hadn’t thought about Barbie dolls in a very long time, but all of his Barbie talk made you sit in your bed in silence for a few minutes. You wished you still had your Barbie dolls with you instead of them sitting in a box in your parents basement. You just wanted to at least look at your favorite childhood toy.

Not your Ken doll though.

You buried him three feet underground in your backyard when playing funeral with your Barbie dolls and forgot he was still down there.