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frost-queen · 10 days

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Kenough for you // part 2 (Reader x Ken)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @bimbo4ever , @niktwazny303

Summary: Ken has taken over Barbieland. When Barbie get's desperate for her dreamhouse she turns to you for help. When Ken and you meet each other again, he hadn't forgotten about you. Never being able to get you out of his head. [ read part 1 ]

“I took the lead for once.” – Ken bragged as the other Ken’s sat in front of him. Pulled in by his story. – “She even asked me to stay over.” – he said sounding cool. – “No way.” – one of the Ken’s said. – “Way.” – Ken replied with a nod. One of the Ken’s scoffed with a puff. Ken turned his head to him. – “You don’t believe me?” – Ken asked a bit bitsy. The other Ken placed his hand on his thigh, leaning a bit closer. – “What about Barbie?” – he answered cocky. Ken flexed his muscles, moving his arm up.

“What about her?” – he replied trying to sound unbothered. A few Ken’s eyes widened. Then there was a loud voice. Calling out his name from below. – “KEN!” – the voice cried out clearly frustrated. Ken held his finger up to the Kens, moving a bit closer to the edge to see who was below. It was Barbie standing at his door. – “A moment Kens.” – he commented as if it didn’t bother him.

Ken got down, pushing the barn doors open, letting his arms rest on them. – “What up Barbie.” – he told her cooly. Barbie moved some hair over her shoulder, putting on a sweet smile. – “Ken, this is my dreamhouse.” – she said trying to keep her composure. Ken took in a deep breath. – “This shall hence forth be known as Ken’s mojo dojo casa house.” – he responded.

“This is my dreamhouse!” – Barbie shouted with a stomp of her heel on the ground. Ken chuckled out a laugh so dryly it wasn’t even an attempt of being funny. – “It’s Ken’s mojo dojo casa house.” – he repeated. Barbie wiggled annoyingly like a whiney little child. – “It’s time for the Ken’s to have a dreamhouse Barbie.” – Ken told her. He waved her away, wanting her off his property. Barbie stared in shock at him as Ken returned back inside.

She felt like crying if only she knew what the emotion was. Angry at Ken, she had used up her last attempt. Ever since they came back from the real world, he had been different. Taking over Barbieland to turn it into Kendom. A place where the Ken’s took everything from the Barbie’s. Barbie was at her last wits, letting herself fall into the sofa at weird Barbie’s house.

Weird Barbie stretched her leg up against the wall, tilting her head. – “I assume Ken didn’t listen.” – she said moving her head back and lowering her leg. Barbie shook her head. – “I don’t know what to do anymore. I want my dreamhouse back.” – she whined out wiggling her legs with a shake of her shoulders.

Weird Barbie did a split on the ground, bringing one leg forwards so she had both her legs out in front of her. – “What about the real girl?” – Weird Barbie questioned. – “You mean Y/n?” – Barbie said through her distress. Weird Barbie got back up stretching her arms up above her head. – “Maybe he’ll listen to her?” – Weird Barbie suggested letting her arms flop against her side. Barbie blinked, her distress gone in a matter of seconds. – “You think so?” – she asked getting up. – “It’s worth a shot?” – Weird Barbie answered pulling her shoulders up.

Barbie ran up to Weird Barbie, grabbing her by the shoulders. – “If I can convince her to come here and tell Ken to stop, everything will get back to normal.” – Barbie exclaimed happily, squeezing Weird Barbie’s shoulders together. – “I guess so?” – Weird Barbie replied. – “I could get my dreamhouse back!” – Barbie pushed Weird Barbie away as she spun around, arms flapping till she came to a stop. – “She did do something silly with Ken where their lips touched.” – Barbie said clasping her hands together, already thinking about getting her dreamhouse back.

“You mean kiss?” – Weird Barbie answered scratching the back of her head. – “No silly.” – Barbie answered laughingly. – “There is no contact with a kiss.” – Barbie went on innocently. Weird Barbie held her finger up, wanting to contradict, but Barbie was so in the clouds with her head, it was no use.

Barbie waved Weird Barbie goodbye, going to leave for the real world again. This time there wasn’t Ken jumping on her from the backseat. It was just her and that song she sings her lungs out to leaving Barbieland… urhm… Kendom. Barbie went through sequences of phases before she entered the real world again on rollerblades. Everything was still the same when she left it.

Now she just needed to find you. She… she just didn’t know where you lived. Falling in one of her distress moments again she sat down whining about how she was ever going to find you. As if a miracle was spoken out, you found her. You furrowed your brows seeing the so obvious pink blondie on a spot you first found Ken as well. You decided to walk up to her. – “Barbie?” – you said confused.

Barbie looked up, bringing up a grant smile. – “Y/n!” – she exclaimed getting up and wrapping her arms around you. – “I found you!” – she said aloud making you a bit wary of Barbie’s sudden affection towards you. – “Is… is Ken here too?” – you questioned looking around over her shoulder. – “No, but you are going to save Barbieland!” – she said cheerful still holding your hands.

“I’m doing what?” – you replied shocked and caught off guard. Barbie squealed excitedly, her eyes falling on your shoes. – “We’ll first need rollerblades.” – she pointed out, making your eyes widen. – “Not again!” – you called out being pulled along with her. Before you knew it you were in rollerblades. Arms wide open, you were afraid to make a move. – “I don’t like this.” – you told her remembering last time. – “No complaining, I need my dreamhouse.” – Barbie said, grabbing you by the wrist.

You screamed it out when she started skating, pulling you along with her. It seemed like she was skating without any purpose or destination. With the blink of your eyes, you were suddenly on a snowmobile behind Barbie. – “What is this?” – you asked looking confused around. – “The way to Barbieland silly.” – Barbie answered. It felt like the skimobile wasn’t going forwards but within a matter of moments, the scenery had changed again.

You sat confused in a chair on a camping site as Barbie arrived with an empty plate. – “What is going on?” – you called out slightly panicking as you grabbed onto the chair’s leaning. Barbie joined you, sitting down as well. – “Ken has taken over Barbieland.” – she told you. You stared confused back at her. With the blink of an eye sat you on a two-bike with Barbie. – “He won’t listen to me, so I’m using you.” – Barbie spoke sitting in the front. Looking around you suddenly sat on a rocket with a helmet on.

“Tell Ken to stop and give me back my dreamhouse.” – Barbie told you over her shoulder. You heard a bird caw as you suddenly were in a boat with her. Grabbing the edge, you looked down at the fakest waves you had ever seen. – “You’ll bring everything back to normal.” – she told you with a smile. The boat made way for a pink car as you sat beside her. Feeling a bit awkward. Barbie sang along with the song on the radio as you kept quiet.

You rather inspected the toy car that seemed to almost drive on it’s own. In the distance you saw a big sign covering over with Kendom written on it. – “See!” – Barbie called out, gesturing at it. The car drove past some men, placing bricks on stacks. – “They are building a wall.” – Barbie told you as you kept looking at them even when passed. Not at all how one would build a wall.

Pinching yourself, you hoped you weren’t tripping for it sure felt like it. The pink car drove into the town as you had imagined it a lot pinker. You drove past the beach, hoping to spot Ken there, yet there was no sign of him. The car drove on till it stopped in a small neighbourhood. Barbie got out as you followed her still trying to process what was going on.

Barbie walked up to the house as you staid behind her. Looking curiously around. – “Ken!” – she called out sweetly. Not a moment later opened the barn doors with Ken appearing. – “Barbie.” – he said cooly. – “Ken.” – Barbie said sugary with a sweet smile. – “Can I have my dreamhouse back?” – she asked with a flirty look. Ken chuckled dryly looking away. – “It’s Ken’s mojo dojo casa house.” – he told her annoying her. – “Fine!” – Barbie let out stepping aside to reveal you.

You were still looking curious around till you noticed Barbie had moved. Your gaze falling on Ken. Ken’s eyes widened seeing you. – “Y/n!” – he said excitedly. Smiling boyishly. – “Hi Ken.” – you responded. Ken cleared his throat, changing his attitude. He moved his bare arm up, flexing his muscles at you. – “What are you doing here?” – he asked checking out his own muscles and hoping you were looking at them.

Barbie gave you a little shove forwards, desperate for her dreamhouse. – “I wanted to talk to you. Can I come in?” – you asked. Ken inhaled deep looking over his shoulder. – “It’s boy’s night.” – he told you. – “Can’t you make an exception?” – you answered sweetly. – “One moment.” – Ken held his finger up, disappearing behind the corner. You got startled when he let out a scream off excitement. He then re-appeared all cooly.

“Sure.” – he opened one side for you. You ducked down under his arm, going inside. Barbie wanted to go after you as Ken blocked her way. – “Not you.” – he said ushering her away. Barbie gasped in shock. Ken turned around leaving Barbie outside. You had entered the house more as you were greeted with many curious men sitting in the living. All turned around to look at you. You presumed they were Ken’s as well, moving your hand up in a greeting.

“Hi Kens.” – you said. Ken came by your side, gesturing at you to make other Ken jealous. – “Hi Y/n!” – all the Ken’s said in unison. Startling you that they knew off you. – “It’s boy’s night.” – one of the Ken’s said. Ken placed his hands on your shoulders. – “Y/n is an exception. She came all the way from the real world to see me.” – he told them.

The moment he said that all the Ken’s came over. Jumping over the sofa to get to you. Some started to poke you in your cheek to feel if you were truly real. Others tried to win you over with their masculinity. It was overwhelming as you felt like being absorbed by Ken’s. Ken waved his hand in front of you, battering the other Ken’s away. – “Get your own real girl!” – he called out, claiming you as his. Not liking the idea he needed to share you, he grabbed you by your wrist, pulling you upstairs.

Exhausted he sighed loud free from the Ken’s. You stood a bit lost, feeling a bit nervous. It has been a while since you saw Ken. Unable to stop thinking about him and now you were here with him where he lived. Ken’s gaze fell upon you, softening his expression. He walked up to you, taking your hand gently in his. His eyes staring lovingly at you. His cool attitude from earlier fading away. – “I’ve missed you.” – you said gazing lovingly back at him. Ken smiled at that.

He led you further into the room letting you sit down. – “After I left… I couldn’t get you out of my head.” – he told you. – “It’s like I’m thinking more about you than Barbie.” – he confessed, frowning a bit. You smiled shyly as your reaction made Ken wink at you. – “Ken… you should be thinking about Barbie. You are boyfriend and girlfriend.” – you told him, knowing how deep a Ken’s love was for a Barbie. – “But I don’t want to.” – Ken answered holding both your hands now. You exhaled deep, getting up as your hands slipped out of his. Ken looked saddened and hurt at your back.

“What did you do to Barbieland?” – you asked changing the subject. – “It was time for the Ken’s to take over once I found out about patriarchy. It’s where men and horses run the world.” – Ken explained. – “That is not what…” – you started turning half back to him to explain. – “I know. I lost interest in it once I found out it wasn’t like that.” – he interrupted you. His answer made you chuckle softly at how innocent he was. Hearing you laugh made Ken curl up a saddened smile.

Ken got up as well, approaching you. When he touched your elbow, you slowly turned around to him. His eyes telling you all. He had missed you desperately. As you had missed him. – “Ken…” – you started yearning so much for him. Heart breaking again that you had to leave him again soon. – “I’ll give Barbie back her dreamhouse.” – he simply answered. You nodded letting him know it was the right call. – “and restore Barbieland.” – he said with soft sigh, knowing how it used to be. But maybe things could be different.

Ken’s eyes widened looking at you. He pulled you closer to the centre. Leaving you standing, he rushed to go get his guitar. – “I’ll serenade to you.” – knowing how much you liked that. – “Ken…” – you said knowing he was trying to stall time. – “Or I can show you the beach? I’m really good at beach.” – he chuckled out nervously. Ken laid his guitar away looking desperately around for more ways to keep you around.

“I’ll teach you to skate? We can hold hands. Do that thing again you did with your lips.” – he kept suggesting, getting more desperate by each one. – “Ken.” – you said knowing you couldn’t stay here. You simply came here to restore Barbieland and then leave again. Interesting that it took but a few words of yours for him to restore it. You weren’t meant to stay here. You weren’t meant to fall in love with Ken.

It had always been Barbie and Ken. Never Ken and Y/n. Things like that didn’t exist. Ken grabbed your hands, dropping in despair to his knees. – “I don’t want you to leave.” – he begged. – “You have Barbie.” – you told him with a heavy heart. – “I don’t want her. I want you!” – Ken called out. – “Please…” – he pleaded unable to tear himself away from you. – “Ken, you know I can’t stay here.” – you explained to him.

Ken got up to his feet, ready to do anything to have you longer. – “Am I not worth fighting for?” – he asked with a saddened face. Touching his cheek, you made him look at you. – “You so are Ken.” – you whispered to him. – “More than anything. But I can’t stay here. I’m no Barbie.” – you explained him again.

Ken clamped himself onto you. – “I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to miss you again.” – he said feeling miserable without you by his side. Ken’s eyes met up with yours, seeing the desperation in them. – “Please…” – he whispered, begging you one last time. A tear rolled down your cheek as Ken wiped it away. – “I wish I could… but I can’t…” – you told him. Ken placed his hand behind your neck, pushing you closer.

Continue to bring you closer till he felt his lips come in contact with yours. Something he had never done with Barbie. You slowly pulled away as Ken wanted to have another go. Feel your lips on his again. – “Ken…” – you said putting him to a stop. You turned away from him, making your way to the stairs. Ken was panting. Feeling you slip away. – “I’ll come with you!” – he suddenly shouted, making you stop to stare with wide eyes at him.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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marvelobsessed134 · 5 months

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CEO!Barbie AU Drabble series masterlist

CEO!Barbie x Fem!assistant!reader

General warnings: smut, unhealthy power dynamic, mommy kink, strap on sex, Dom!barbie, sub!reader, pregnancy, housewife kink.

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

Starting to really like the real world

—> Your boss asks you to stay back after work

You can be the boss

—> You visit Barbie’s house for a long night of activities

Welcome home

—> you surprise Barbie when she comes home from a long work trip

Fill you up

—> Barbie finally breeds you and gets your pregnant with a cum filled strap

Trophy wife

—> you and Barbie marry in Vegas

Post pregnancy sex

—> Your wife gives you much needed attention

#barbie movie x reader #barbie movie fanfic #barbie x reader #barbie smut #barbie fanfic #margot robbie #margot barbie #margot robbie x reader

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danime25 · 7 months

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Ken Seeking Barbie

masterlist // ao3

*Summary: He's just Ken. Looking for his barbie out there in the real world. Who knew you could find someone on Craigslist? Ken certainly didn't.

*Rating: +18 for explicit mature content

*Content/Tags: First Kiss, First Time

*Status: Series (Part 1)/Complete?

“And… send. No, enter?” The clueless blond hit at the keyboard. “God these computers are so confusing. I wish Barbie were here.”

Ken was on a trip in the real world to visit his no-commitment close friend Barbara, formerly Barbie. She was all set up in the real world, she had her own apartment, a job, and apparently had seen a gynecologist. Whatever that means, but he was happy for her! He was still in the process of figuring out what it meant to be Ken. Find his purpose, like Barbie had found hers. Until he did that however, he was going to enjoy visiting with his friend. Barbara had taught him how to use the computer to occupy himself for a couple of hours while she worked. He learned more about horses, the patriarchy and its fallacies. After he had gone through Wikipedia he decided to move on to his next site. Without Barbie there to guide him, he had found his way onto a site called Craigslist. He searched for horses first, and to his surprise he couldn’t find more info about horses, but he could buy a horse. He couldn’t do that, he didn’t have any money, and he had learned his lesson from Barbie after ordering pizza that cost over 100 dollars. Apparently that was expensive for humans. He shook his head and moved onto the personal section.

“F24 looking for partner.” His eyebrow raised and clicked on it. After reading through way too much information about what this woman was looking for he decided, “I could do that.”

‘Ken looking for his Barbie

Hi, I am Ken! I am looking for a blonde haired, pretty woman.’ He squinted and looked back over the post the other person had written about what she wanted.

‘A woman who likes to have fun! Someone who likes beach! I can meet you at the beach!’

And that’s how he got to where he was now. He put the ad up on the site, and waited. Almost immediately he got responses. A lot of them asked him to call them. One woman was brave enough to set up a place to meet.

“Sublime!” He then sent her a message to arrange the meet-up before walking out of Barbie’s apartment. He walked and walked before arriving at a beach that was new to him. It was quite pretty with the sunset just on the edge of the waters that actually moved. He found a bench to sit at and waited for a couple of minutes before being approached by a woman.

“Wow. You’re really into this thing.” She said, “I guess you must be Ken.” He got up and turned around to face her. She was tall, and blonde. She was very pretty. Not stereotypical Barbie pretty, but beautiful nonetheless.

“You look very gorgeous.” He smiled at her

“Thanks. You seem nice. So… where do you want to do this?”

“Do what?”

“You know, like… the Barbie stuff.”

“The barbie stuff?” He asked again

“You’re a real airhead. Let’s just go to my house, if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Yeah, I’m fine with that.” He smiled back at her. She rolled her eyes a tiny bit and pulled him into a cab. He liked the way that she pulled on his shirt to get him to go where she wanted him to go. He plopped down onto the seat next to her and watched out the window as the beach drew out of sight. She guided him out of the car after a short ride around town and in front of a tall building. After she exchanged words with the driver and a piece of paper, she took his hand and led him into the building.

“You’re not like other guys. Most guys would be feeling me up by now.”

“Feeling you up? Do you want to be felt up?”

“No,” She laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear, “At least not until we’re in my apartment.”

“Okay.” He smiled back at her, and felt his hand squeeze hers tighter. She looked down at their hands before going back to what she was doing. She opened the door and turned the lights on. This apartment was smaller than Barbie’s but it felt so much warmer?

“Sit down.” It sounded like a command, but she said it so nicely that he sat down, “Any particular outfit you want me to wear?”

“Do you have anything pink?”

“Of course I do.” She smiled at him before going to another room and closing the door behind her. He looked around her apartment while she was doing her thing. So many dolls… wait, did she have a Ken doll? He didn’t want to disobey her, but he really wanted to check it out. He quietly got up from the couch and looked at the Ken. He was cool looking. He ran his hand over the head of the Ken, but didn’t want to think about the implication of what he was doing, and put the doll back. “Ugh I’m having a hard time finding my outfit, you can watch TV if you want!”

“Okay!” He called back to her and sat back on the couch. He flicked the TV on for a second before she came out in a bright pink, sparkly dress. “Wow.”

“You like that?”

“Very much.” He smiled from ear to ear, “Also that Ken you have is really cool.”

“Aw thanks.” She smiled back at him, “Not a lot of guys notice him. But I’ll be honest. He’s my favorite. I just think he’s so… dreamy.”

“Can I?” He asked

“Can you what?”

“Can I get up?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Okay.” He walked over towards her and placed his hands on her hips, something stereotypical barbie would never let him do. “You’re…. Prettier than Barbie.”

“Don’t say that.” She giggled, “I am Barbie.”

“No, you’re not. And that’s what makes you so pretty.” With a feeling of conviction he had never felt before, Ken put a hand gently on the back of her neck and leaned in to kiss her. She wrapped both her arms around his neck and pulled him into her. For her, the kiss seemed so chaste compared to what she’d normally get from guys. After kissing like teenagers, she asked him

“What do you want me to do to you Ken?”

“Huh?”

“I mean I’m your barbie, you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Anything? Like boyfriend girlfriend stuff?”

“Yeah. Anything.” She kissed his cheek

“Okay.” He smirked and took her hand, before realizing he didn’t know what room to go in. “Where’s the bed?”

“In there.” She gestured back from where she came from. He nodded and guided her into the bedroom. She sat on the bed and twirled the ends of her hair with her finger

“Wait… can you act like stupid?”

“Oh, like a bimbo?”

“Yeah.” He puffed his chest out a little bit

“I thought you’d never ask!” Her voice went up and was even more girly than it had been a second before, “I just don’t know what to do without you Ken.”

“It’s okay.” He sat next to her, “I can help with that.”

“You can?! Yay!” She smiled and rested the palms of her hands in his lap. She shifted so that she rested on her legs. He pulled her closer once again by her neck and kissed her. After a couple soft kisses, he pushed her onto her back and she let her arms flop over her head as she looked up at him. He carefully lifted up her dress and looked at her underwear. He put his hands on the hem and pulled them off slowly. After they were off, he threw the garment onto the floor. She bit on the tip of her finger as she watched his confidence slowly build up. He ripped his shirt off right over his head and threw that in another direction. “Can I touch you?”

“Yeah.” His voice caught a little in the back of his throat

“I mean, I really don’t know what I’m doing but… I think….” She drew her words long to make it sound like she was confused, “This is how you take a belt off.” She unbuckled his pants and took the pair of pants off of him. She saw that there was the name ‘Ken’ embroidered into the waistband and swooned, “That’s like so cute!”

“I’ll show you cute.” He growled in a low tone, one he’d never heard before in his life. He worked his underwear off and then moved his hands onto either side of her body. He held himself up before leaning down onto her to kiss her. She pulled him down by the small of his neck and kissed him back, her head moving around. He shoved his left arm underneath her body and pressed his whole body into her. He arched his back a little before deciding he needed to be inside of her. He sat up a little bit and moved her legs apart carefully. He paused for a second, but then did as he had wanted and shoved himself inside of her. She let out a quiet gasp and he asked her, “Are you okay?”

“Little rough, but I’ll be fine.”

“Sorry.” He apologized, “Don’t have much experience.”

“That’s okay.” She pulled him back up to her and let him get used to the feeling of being inside. “Now what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make you feel good.” He smirked a little

“That sounds so good.” She put her hands on his waist and he leaned forward, starting to slowly thrust into her. “Yeah, just like that.”

“Like that?”

“I do. Can you go faster? I bet you can.”

“Yeah I can.” He repeated his motion, but faster this time. One more time, and again. Again. Again. She moved her hands up from his sides to fully on his back as he found a rhythm to it. She kept him pressed close to her and felt himself… getting hard. That’s all he could think about. He hoped that that wasn’t a turn off for her. She quietly moaned underneath him. He grunted and kept pushing himself further into her with each thrust of his hips. He let out a broken moan from his lips as he felt a warmth pool in his stomach and came in her. Her legs clenched around his waist as he came, and let a little noise out as he slowly came down from whatever high it was he was just on. His whole body felt limp and he toppled onto her. His chest heaved against hers, and she held onto him. When he regained strength in his arms he wrapped them around her frame and rested his head on top of her chest. He listened to the soft thump in her chest as it went from every second to slightly longer and her whole body went from on edge to at ease. He rested there for a while. And a while got a little bit longer. His eyes fluttered a couple of times, and when she saw that he was getting sleepy, she ran her fingers through his soft perfect blond hair.

“If you want to go, you can.” She offered to him quietly

“Okay.” He got up and looked at her, “Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“What if I want to stay?” He asked

“Then you can stay.” She smiled at him

“Okay.” He cuddled up beside her and wrapped an arm around her back before looking down at her dress. “That’s still a really pretty dress.”

“Thanks. I made it myself.” She beamed, “I’m glad you treated it with such care. Most guys are too eager and just start tearing.”

“That’s awful.” He gasped

“Yeah I know.” She rested her head on his shoulder. Ken could have squealed with excitement, but instead went to hold onto her hand. “I never got your name.”

“Oh. It’s Ken. I’m just Ken.”

“You’re cute.” She closed her eyes and grinned

“Thanks.” He smiled up at the ceiling. He didn’t know when he’d get back to Barbara’s apartment, or how. That didn’t really matter to him right now, because Ken had finally found a purpose. And his purpose was his barbie.

#ken barbie #ryan gosling ken #ken barbie x reader #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #the barbie movie #barbie movie fanfic #barbie movie fanfiction #my work #my fic #not beta read #ken in the real world

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ourswordsmeandeath · 5 months

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Title: Beauty and the Beach Fandom: Barbie (2023) Relationship: Stereotypical Barbie/Writer Barbie Author: ourswordsmeandeath Rating: G Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Words: 400 Summary: In the Real World, Barbara surprises Alex (Writer Barbie) with a trip to the ocean so that she can experience a true sunset.

#barbie #barbie 2023 #barbie movie #barbie the movie #barbie movie 2023 #the barbie movie #barbie fanfiction #barbie movie fanfic #barbie fanfic #barbie fic #stereotypical barbie #writer barbie #comfortember 2023 #comfortember #stereotypical barbie x writer barbie #barbie spoilers

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greenandsorrow · 9 months

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"Boytoy"

WARNINGS; 18+, shameless smut, ken x fem!reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, praise k!nk, size k!nk, virgin!ken, switch!reader, sub!ken, dom!ken, the plot doesn't connect with the movie, kinda slow burn, grammar mistakes

Part 1

"you're a doll, you are flawless"

~flawless, the neighborhood~

Y/n has finally graduated from high school. Not only that, but thanks to her hard work, she's been admitted to a prestigious university only two hours away from her parents' house.

Still, even though the distance between her childhood home and her new school is not that important, y/n is currently packing and will soon be moving into her new, small studio apartment.

It's late in the morning and she's going through her old toys, preserved in cardboard boxes at the back of her closet. Her y/h/c hair's on a bun and she's wearing sweatpants.

Earlier the same morning, with her mom's priceless help, she had managed to go through her desk, bookshelf and drawers, organising, packing or simply putting away all the stuff that has been collected in her bedroom the last eighteen years.

"A dozen Barbie dolls and only one Ken.", she thinks aloud as she's tackling the last box, filled with childhood memories.

Ken is staring at her from the bottom of the box and y/n almost feels guilty at how much she used to ignore him during her childhood play time.

In one impulsive motion she picks him up, while observing his perfect abs, blonde hair contradicting the tan colour of his skin and his cute set of beach wear (stripped shorts and open flannel in pink and blue pastels).

"Poor guy, I've been unfair to you, haven't I?", she chuckles mostly to herself.

At around six in the afternoon y/n's done with packing. She's actually driving to her new place as we speak. What's more, she unconsciously threw Ken in her backpack and is now carrying him along with her. Not that he would complain if he knew.

Y/n's Ken doll has been a part of her toy collection since she was six (she stopped playing with dolls at nine). Unlike her beloved Barbie dolls, Ken's never been y/n's favourite. He's always been just.... there. He was simply included in a Barbie set that her parents gifted her with, at her sixth birthday.

Back at Barbieland, Ken has been facing the consequences of his owner's ignorance for as long as he can remember. While all of y/n's Barbies are confident and spending their days living happily ever after (the aftermath of y/n's love and attention), Ken has always been the black sheep. He isn't exactly bursting with confidence. Neither does he own a Dream house. He's also never invited to the parties the Barbies are often having and to say the least, Ken is lonely. He wishes he could say that he enjoys being by himself most of the time, but without even another Ken, his existence seems pointless.

Ken used to cherish the sporadic attention he would get during y/n's early years in life. An outfit change, a walk at the beach or a small talk with one of the Barbies, guided by his owner was all he needed to feel somehow included (or that's what he always tried to convince himself).

Ken, with his limited knowledge regarding the real world, had concluded that the lack of what little attention he was receiving, was due to the fact that the little girl whose possession he was in, had now turned into a young lady. And having the Barbies as an example of how a lady is, he wasn't surprised that the girl had no use for him whatsoever.

Y/n wakes up in the morning, feeling groggy and disoriented. She wishes she could blame that on the environment change, but the truth is, last night she had a rather strange dream.

Y/n's pov:

She had reached her destination at about eight in the evening. After discussing some final details with her unexpectedly sweet landlady, she called her mom to inform her that she's alright and has settled in. Y/n had also managed to unpack most of her things, including her Ken doll that was laying on her desk when she changed into her matching pyjama set and got comfy in the warmth of her brand new, king sized bed.

After such a long day, y/n was equally drained both physically and mentally. The prospect of living alone, without the comfort of her parents' presence, was already enough to trouble her poor brain. On top of that, classes started tomorrow, leaving y/n no time to adjust to her new living conditions. And don't get me started on the actual unpacking and settling in process! All these heavy boxes, suitcases and IKEA furniture had gotten the best of y/n. Obviously, as soon as she found a comfortable position to sleep in, she immediately drifted off.

Y/n's sleep was disturbed by a shuffling sound, coming from the other side of the room. Normally, under any other circumstances, she would be terrified to spot the dark figure of a tall, strong looking man, staring at her in the middle of the night, after probably having broken into her apartment. However that was not the case. In her state of sleepiness and dizziness, her focus fading in and out of consciousness, her brain fuzzy and not entirely awake, y/n didn't feel any amount of fear but translated the image in front of her as part of a dream.

And what was this image in front of her, you may ask. Well, her previously unwanted Ken doll, was now at the feet of her bed, standing six foot tall, looking down at her with an adorably confused expression carved on his otherwise perfect features.

Ken's pov:

Ken was incredibly lucky that y/n thought she was dreaming, because not only didn't she scream at him to get the hell out, but she actually smiled at him. A small, uncertain and sleepy smile, no less a genuine smile. Even in his own state of confusion, Ken felt his insides melt at the sight of this small woman in front of him, smiling at him, actually noticing him.

He advanced closer to the head of the bed, so that he could take a better look at the girl who was sitting there. Ken sat at the edge of the bed and immediately recognised the person in question. She was clearly y/n. The girl who used to play with him and the Barbies was looking at him with intense interest and a glint in her y/e/c eyes that he had never seen before.

He took in her features. Ken had somehow expected to come face to face with a child, but obviously y/n was no longer a little girl but a beautiful woman. Sure, living in Barbieland Ken had learnt that all women were beautiful, however his old "owner" wasn't pretty in the sense a Barbie was pretty. Studying her features, Ken noticed y/n's hair wasn't neatly done like the Barbies', her skin dimpled and crised when she smiled, her teeth weren't the perfect shade of white or identical to one another, the apples of her cheeks were pinkish with sleep and her eyes held a warmth and complexity that made his stomach flutter. Ken was entranced by the simple image of this young lady, without any makeup or pretty clothes. He even felt like he had some kind of power over her, since she was so much smaller than him. He caught himself thinking that he could fit her whole face in the palm of his hand. The sudden urge to be the one to protect her and have the exclusivity of seeing her so unkempt and "naked" washed over him.

"Oh my!! You're actually Ken!", it was y/n that broke the silence, with her thrilled remark about the person who seemed lost in thought in front of her.

Ken was abruptly brought back to reality. How could something like this even happen? It should be practically impossible. One moment he was taking a nap at the beach and the next thing he knew, he was sitting in a chair in a dark room he concluded belonged to y/n. He might not be the brightest guy (the Kens weren't supposed to be smarter than the Barbies anyway) but he realised something very wrong was happening. The dolls living in Barbieland weren't supposed to be able to come to the real world.

"Y/n! Hey! I never thought I'd meet you in person."

She simply giggled at that. Her giggle was spontaneous and made Ken blush, since he was so unfamiliar with women reacting to him in such a way. Her expression was so girly, almost shy, making Ken bolder than he felt. He climbed all the way onto the bed so that they were basically sitting next to each other.

Y/n felt her face growing warmer and not because of the sleepiness. "That's a very realistic dream", she thought to herself. But exactly because she had convinced herself that Ken was part of her imagination she was also about to act bolder than her usual self.

She turned her body so that she was facing him and not just sitting next to him. Y/n then extended an arm in order to brush away some stray hairs that had fallen in his face. That simple motion was enough to make Ken's heart beat as loud as a hammer and he believed y/n could actually hear it from where she was sitting, so close to him. To his utter surprise, she didn't retrieve her hand after making sure his (ridiculously soft) hair was back in place.

Maybe y/n would be intimidated by Ken's perfect posture and dreamy eyes, by his chiseled jawline and veiny hands or by the fact that his pupils were dilated more than was necessary for the dark around them (there were fairy lights all around the room) if she were to meet him face to face in real life. But y/n was in a dream (or so she thought). Her dream, her rules and she showed no sign of intimidation.

With the hand that had just brushed Ken's hair, she proceeded to cup his face, while caressing his perfectly carved cheek bone with the pad of her thumb. Ken closed his eyes at the sensation, since no one had ever showed him tenderness like that. His reaction to her touch only encouraged y/n to continue exploring this life sized Ken doll.

With nimble fingers that made Ken's breath hitch multiple times, she started caressing him, beginning with his collarbones and slowly making a trail over his toned chest to his lower abs. His skin was soft and warm to the touch and y/n's mind was quick to put together multiple ungodly thoughts.

Ken's hands had reached and grabbed the bedsheets as soon as y/n's teasing ones had started going over his abs, torturously slow. Of course he didn't know why he felt the way he did, she was just touching him (as a doll he never had been subjected to anything remotely sexual before this very moment), but he could feel a weird anticipation gathering at the pit of his stomach (and lower). Oddly enough, he didn't move, he didn't even speak, scared that he would destroy this peculiar situation he'd found himself in. He told himself that "You're a doll and this human girl is simply... playing with you?". It didn't sound right but it certainly felt good.

When she reached at his lower abdomen, just below his belly button, y/n drew her hands back. He had felt so real to the touch she started to question her previous belief that she was merely dreaming.

Ken saw her expression change from lustful (he didn't know that's what it was called), to a placated one. She searched his face for an answer, without realising how her doe eyes had captured every bit of Ken's attention.

"Y/n", he whispered under a shaky inhale, leaning towards her like a moth hypnotized by the flame.

"I'm sorry Ken, I really am."

"About what?!", he asked, generally confused.

"When I was little I-"

"Can I kiss you, please?" he knew that much. He had never given a real kiss back in Barbieland but at least he was familiar with the concept.

Y/n was lost for words. A sudden realization that this felt too real to be any short of wet dream had dawned on her (if that was the case she would have woken up by now). When she didn't answer right away, Ken turned his hot gaze on her parted lips. They were swollen from sleep and rozy but not in the manufactured way the Barbies' lips look in the morning. He had to fight back the urge to attack her mouth with his own, since he was still waiting for her consent.

Y/n finally gave the smallest nod, indicating shyness and reluctance, though her gaze was once again intense, making Ken's breath get caught in his throat.

He leaned in, gently but no less eagerly and was pleasantly surprised (not for the last time) when y/n, leaning towards him as well, connected their lips in a soft, slow and lingering kiss.

Y/n's hot breath on his mouth made Ken gasp and draw himself even closer to *his* girl, while his right hand, moving on its own, reached for her already messy hair, tagging at it softly.

Y/n was equally surprised by the kiss. Ken's lips were unbelievably soft and his body emitted a warmth that sent shivers down her spine. She rubbed her thighs together (a motion in which Ken was oblivious to for the time being) as she reached for his neck, taking the lead. She drew him even closer to her, their chests colliding. Ken gasped -again- at the sensation of her round breasts pressing against his mascular body and he reacted by snaking both arms around her narrow waist.

When y/n took Ken's bottom lip between her teeth, tagging at it softly, he let out the smallest moan. In return he drew back, only to smash his lips on her own once more, with a passion and an urgency that made y/n weak in his strong arms. Her tongue asked for access he happily gave and he found himself backing his hips against her as their tongues swirled around one another for the first time.

When they parted, they were both breathless and panting heavily. Ken looked at y/n with an adoration that made her short circuit. He had never felt that important to anyone, but the tight grip she had on his biceps was proof that she wanted him. Really wanted him, needed him, even. Ken was important to her, at least at that moment.

This blissful state of his was short lived, due to y/n standing up and turning on the big light on the ceiling.

After taking a moment so that his vision could readjust to the light, Ken's eyes found y/n again. She was standing now and he took a mental note to never forget how tiny and young, how vulnerable she looked in her gray pyjama set with her tousled hair all over, like a miniature lioness. To be honest, Ken didn't have the right words to describe what he was seeing, but the warmth in his chest (and an unexplainable discomfort in his breeches) was enough for him.

"Oh shit-

Oh my gosh....I wasn't dreaming, was I?"

Y/n looked shocked and Ken grew hot with embarrassment because of it.

"I'm just as confused as you are, y/n", at least he was able to say something. Because now the light was on, he could see her feminine figure and wanted nothing more than to squish her round thighs and then-

"I mean... you're actually Ken...like... HOW?!"

"Please don't be angry at me, I can't explain how or why, but instead of waking up in Barbieland I woke up here", he said with an apologetic look on his face, while standing up like a child that just got scolded.

Y/n took a deep breath in, deciding he was too damn hot to actually be angry at him. It also wasn't his fault and at the end of the day she liked the idea of having a "boytoy" so eager and sweet. She really hadn't done Ken justice as a child but thought she could pay him back now.

You see, y/n's father is working for Mattel and she knows some things the average person doesn't. For one thing, she's aware that Barbieland exists and that on some very rare occasions the dolls come to the real world.

"It's alright Ken. I know it's not your fault"

Hearing her voice was not only soothing to him, but his name on her mouth made him lightheaded.

"but you have to get back. I don't know what it could mean to my world that you're here."

At the sound of that final statement, Ken visibly frowned and felt a weight settling in his chest. He had just come to this world and on top of that he and y/n had shared enough kisses to be considered boyfriend and girlfriend according to Barbieland standards.

He reminded himself, as always, he's just Ken. He's always second, even if for a moment he felt like a ten, lost in y/n's tender but also hot touch.

"I understand, y/n. I'll leave then and get back to Barbieland", not that he knew how.

She too felt she didn't want him to leave just yet, the tension was so thick she could almost see it all around them. Nevertheless, it was past midnight and she had three morning classes tomorrow, so she let Ken go without uttering another word.

To say the least, Ken was heartbroken. In one night he had experienced so many new sensations and emotions and he knew he wouldn't be able to get y/n out of his head no matter how hard he'd try. He ended up dozing off while sitting on her doorstep, looking at the stars and imagining y/n's small hands caressing him lower and lower until...

notes~~

UPDATE!! THIS STORY HAS BEEN FINISHED, LOOK AT MY MASTERLIST FOR THE FOLLOWING PARTS!

Dividers by; @cafekitsune

Hello beautiful people! I hope you enjoyed part 1 of my Ken smut fic :) It's meant to be just spice but I wanted to add some context too. This is also my first time posting anything on Tumblr!

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jiyaneru · 9 months

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you’re so beautiful

#FINALLY FINALLY DREW GLORBIE #IVE READ EVERY FANFIC IN AO3 AND I STILL CANT GET ENOUGH #PLEASE JSHDJDH #IM SO FERAL OVER THEM #barbie #barbie the movie #glorbie #barbie x gloria #margot robbie #america ferrera #glorbie fanart #art #illustration #artists on tumblr #janeru draws #jiyaneru

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poeticpascal · 9 months

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Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a deep sense of loneliness overcomes Cowgirl Barbie, she leaves Barbieland to find whatever poor kid it is that's making her feel that way. Of course, she could never have expected just how much light Sarah would bring to her life, and she certainly didn't expect the things her grumpy father would teach her about love.

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Barbie movie spoilers, angst, angry Joel (he's insecure and protective), descriptions of loneliness, lots of fluff!

A/n: this is literally my Magnum Opus. Reader is Cowgirl Barbie. I truly hope you love this as much as I do 💖

Barbieland has been very different since Stereotypical Barbie left. Good different.

The Kens have jobs now, proper jobs, not just ‘Beach’ or ‘Surf’. They’re not the most competent workers Barbieland has ever seen; they get too distracted trying on new overalls at the building site or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other in the offices. But they’re trying, and you have to admit, it’s pretty adorable seeing them so excited to head off to work each morning.

Barbieland has laughter now, true laughter, not perfect giggles but the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your belly hurt. It has crying, proper full-bodied sobs that rack through your chest, aching in a good way. And it has life. Fervent, overwhelming, painfully brilliant life.

It’s magnificent, even the really hard bits. Which there are a lot of.

Like losing someone you really, really love.

Stereotypical Barbie - Barbara, as she’s known now - had been your best friend. Your Dreamhouse was right next to hers, and every morning you’d float down to the streets together, where she’d hop into her little pink car and you’d mount your pony and ride into town. It was perfect, a sweet little life surrounded by pinkness and joy, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you miss it.

You bonded over how displaced you both felt. Neither of you really had a thing, a specific job to do. She was Stereotypical Barbie, and you’re Cowgirl Barbie. Destined to wear dusty denim and cowboy hats for all of eternity; not a doctor, not a physicist, not an astronaut and certainly not the president. Just a cowgirl.

And there aren’t even any cows.

That was what brought you and Stereotypical Barbie together; you both felt slightly unsure of the world, however perfect it may be, and you found friendship in that.

So when she left, that hurt.

Because she found purpose.

Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.

Purpose in things you could only dream about. And what you hate the most is that she was right.

It feels good to hurt. It feels good to have that pain in your chest, that ache in your cheeks when you’re not quite done crying yet. That emptiness that fills the space where flowers had once bloomed.

It feels like shit to miss your friend, and it feels incredible to have loved someone so much that you miss them.

And that’s the beauty she brought to your life. To all the Barbies’ lives.

But it still goddamn hurts.

About as much as the strange thoughts of loneliness have hurt the past few weeks.

You’re never alone in Barbieland; there’s always someone there, a friend, a listening ear. A million other Barbies who genuinely care.

But the feeling is so strong, so heavy in your gut, that all the Barbies and Kens and Allens in the world can’t take it away.

Which only calls for one thing.

“Your friend had the same problem, you know,” Weird Barbie says, walking round you in circles like prey. You gulp; she’s significantly less ‘weird’ now, what with her fancy job at the Capital and the whole ‘awakened Barbies’ thing, but she certainly kept some habits that set you a little bit on edge.

“How do you mean?” You stutter, trying to keep up as she continues to stalk around you and make strange gestures.

“First came the depression-” she pulls down a presentation screen from god-knows where, one decorated with the typical Barbie anatomy and annotated with the same notes Weird Barbie is now recounting. She points to the head, ‘depression’ scribbled beside it, and stops in front of you.

“And then-” she moves again, rotating to the other side of the screen and pointing to the drawing’s legs. “-came the cellulite.”

She pauses, seemingly waiting for some big reaction, but you just stare. Sure, cellulite was feared back then, but almost every Barbie has it now, and it’s really no big deal. “...okay?” you posit, slightly more concerned as Weird Barbie’s face falls at your reply.

“Damn, I guess we really are doing things differently now.” Her surprise is dropped quickly, as she continues to explain what it means to be overcome with these awful feelings so quickly.

“In the end, sweetheart, there’s only one way to fix this.” She leans in uncomfortably close, making you gulp. “You gotta go to the real world.”

You had a feeling she’d say that.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

When you arrive in the real world, there’s really only one person you can go to. The one person you’ve missed more than anything.

She was your best friend, and yet standing here on the doorstep of an apartment that looks nothing like a Dreamhouse, you can’t help how nervous you feel.

She’d given all the Barbies her new address, in case any of them managed to sneak into the real world, so she mustn’t mind that you’re here. But she’ll be so different now, so human, and you’re still just a Barbie with a jaunty cowgirl outfit and a sunny disposition.

Your worries are immediately washed away when the door flings open, and before you can even see who it is, a pair of arms are tightly wrapped around your neck and you’re pulled in for a big, warm hug. But you know who it is, and you hug her back immediately, tears welling in your eyes as you finally hold your best friend again.

Barbara pulls back, holding your cheeks in her hands, almost like she didn’t think you were really there. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She grins, hugging you again with a giggle. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh, Barbara, I missed you too,” you cry, not wanting to let her go.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, and you finally relax your arms, taking in how much she’s changed. She isn’t wearing anything pink, or sparkly, but a white blouse and nude pants that look very professional. Very human. Very different.

You don’t reply to her question, unsure of what the answer even is, and that alone makes her worried. So she takes you by the hand and leads you into her apartment, one painted white with sweet pictures on the walls of her with Sasha and Gloria, and some other women you don’t recognise. It makes you a little jealous.

She leads you to the kitchen, sitting you on a bar stool and pouring tea for you both. You go to drink it, holding the cup away from your mouth and tipping it, but she quickly jumps up shouting “no!” and pulling the cup down.

She laughs, making you laugh nervously too, and explains you need to hold the cup to your lips and sip. “Are you sure?” you ask, staring down at the liquid and tentatively trying to drink it, the warmth on your tongue foreign but sweet.

“Yep! That’s how we drink here. I know it’s weird but once you get used to it, it’s so good.”

You smile, putting down the cup and looking back at your friend. “Things are pretty different here, huh?”

Barbara smiles, nodding her head and swinging her legs where they hang from the stool. “Yep! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, with a fraction of the excitement. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knocking your hat slightly which you quickly correct into place, acutely aware of yourself in the presence of someone who’s changed so much. “Do… do you ever miss us? The Barbies?”

She grimaces, making you regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. Her eyebrows sink into concern, and she sets her tea down beside yours, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Every single day. Of course I miss you - I even miss the Kens!” You both giggle, and you’re reminded of how things were before.

You have to admit, you almost asked your Ken to come with you, but he was having so much fun in Barbieland now that you couldn’t bring yourself to take him away from it.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Her eyes have welled up now, and guilt hits you like a truck.

“No, no, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so happy for you, truly.” You smile, and you know she knows you mean it. “I just… I feel so lonely. It’s like a big hole in my chest, all the time. No matter what I do, no matter how many girl’s nights and big blowout parties and days on the beach, I just feel lonely. And it’s even worse without you here.”

Barbara holds your hand tighter, and something you said seems to have caught her attention. “You mean you felt like this even before I left? Before the Kendom?”

You nod, sheepish, and her eyes squint in thought. Then, as if a lightbulb has gone off in her head, she gives you her trademark big white smile and excitedly shouts, “I know what you need to do!”

She jumps off her chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. You stand there for a moment, taking in the view, the overwhelming sights and sounds of rushing traffic below you. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“You need to find the little girl who’s playing with you,” Barbara whispers, watching your amazement.

“Isn’t that what you did?” You ask, finally pulling your eyes away to face your friend. She nods, her smile just as bright and honest as ever, and it makes the idea of facing this big wide world seem a little less scary.

“I’ll come with you, we’ll go find her, and we’ll figure out what’s been making her feel so lonely.”

“Will you really come with me?”

You already know the answer; of course she will. She’s the kindest person you know. Of course, all the Barbies are the kindest people you know, but that’s a technicality you don’t feel like getting into right now.

“You know it,” she grins, and you can’t help but grin back as you think about what an adventure this is going to be.

“How will I know where to find her?” You ask, looking back through the window at the huge world on the other side of the glass. How could you possibly find your kid?

Barbie tugs you to face her, straightens your hat and looks directly into your eyes, making you focus. “You gotta be really calm, okay? Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and find her memories. And then try to figure out where she is. That’s how I found Sasha!’

You nod, not quite sure how this is going to work, if this is going to work. But you try anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to shush all the noise and confusion in your head, desperately searching for anything that could help you find your kid. You get nothing, ready to give up after a few minutes of emptiness, when suddenly - there it is, the faintest hint of a memory.

“Dad, can we have a movie night tonight?” Sarah asks, watching as Joel paces the room, frantically searching for his other shoe.

“Yeah, sweetheart, course,” he replies. She smiles, heading over to the TV stand and already searching for a film to watch, giggling as her Dad begins to lift up the couch cushions.

She looks down, seeing the shoe hiding just behind the stand, and rolls her eyes as she picks it up and throws it at him. “How’d you find it?” He mutters, scoffing as she just laughs at him, though a matching grin is etching its way onto his lips.

He slides on the other shoe, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading over to give Sarah a kiss on the head. “When will you be home?” She asks, and he offers a guilty smile that doesn’t make her particularly hopeful.

“Soon as I can, Sarah. Around 8? 9 at the latest.” She nods, forcing a smile and letting him go, and Joel’s out the door in a flash with a final shout of “Love you, honey!” and a slam of the door.

The memory changes, then.

It’s nighttime, and Sarah lies alone on the couch, a movie playing that she doesn’t seem to be really watching. Her eyes flicker up to the mantlepiece, where the clock reads 10:13, and she sighs.

Then she stands, traipsing into the hallway and towards the front door, where the key hangs in the lock. She turns it, unlocking the door and leaving the key on the sidetable, then picking up a piece of mail that had been left there.

“51 Mulberry Road

Travis County

Austin, Texas

Dear Mr. Miller, we are writing to solicit your contracting services for our new development…”

Sarah groans, throwing the letter back on the table and muttering “more work, great.” She retreats upstairs, slamming the door behind her and climbing into bed…

You’re pulled out of the memory by Barbara’s voice, filled with excitement. “Can you see her? Do you know her name? Do you know where she is?”

“Sarah” you mumble, still dazed. “Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”

Barbara squeals, clapping her hands together before calming herself and urging you to continue. “And? Where is she?”

You concentrate, trying to remember what was written on the letter you saw. “Er… Texas. Yeah, she’s in Texas. Mulberry Road. Is that close?”

She pulls a face, a yeah… no kind of face, then grabs a big book from under her coffee table and flips it open. You watch in amazement as she scans the pages and pages of maps inside, until she shouts, “a-ha!”, pointing to a spot on a page titled ‘The United States of America’. “Here it is. We’ll need to fly there.”

A nervous excitement brews in your tummy, your eyes glued to the little spot on the map labelled Texas. The spot where Sarah lives, with her Dad. The place you’re destined to find.

“Oh, and don’t get freaked out… but men fly planes here.” Your head snaps up, confusion painting your face, and Barbara just nods at your reaction.

“Seriously?” You ask, wondering if she was just playing a prank. “Is… is that safe?”

She giggles, putting the book down and grabbing your hand. “Yep, there’s a lot to get used to here. You’ll see. Now come on, we need to pack our bags!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

And so here you are, on a flight to Texas, on your way to find Sarah and bring an end to her loneliness.

Barbara tells you all about the real world. How different yet wonderful it is, how much there is to do and see and feel. She’s at university now, getting qualifications to be a psychologist and work with young girls who are struggling. It’s brilliant, but strange, you think - qualifications aren’t needed in Barbieland - anyone can just do anything. Well, the Barbies can. And the Kens really do try.

The journey is filled with new and exciting things, but it’s scattered with memories of Sarah and her dad that pop up in your mind at random. You see everything; their best moments, their worst, the times they’ve laughed and cried and screamed.

You can see the first time she chose you. She was smaller, much smaller than she is in the more recent memories, and her Dad seemed friendlier, then.

“Alright, honey. Which one d’ya want?” Joel asks, smiling as Sarah’s eyes scan shelf after shelf of Barbies.

“You should get this one,” he jokes, picking up a doll labelled ‘Builder Barbie’. “She’s just like your daddy!”

Sarah giggles, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “You’re not a builder, daddy! You’re a cont-ac-er.”

Joel’s heart warms, both at how much she loves his job and won’t accept a vague similarity, and her attempted pronunciation of the word ‘contractor’.

“Well then, which one, babygirl?”

She spends a few more moments looking at each option, before her eyes widen, landing on one a little further away to the left. She stands up on her tippy-toes, grabbing the doll and admiring it, giddy.

“This one, Daddy! I want this one!” She shows him the doll, waving it in his face but not letting him take it, protective already. It’s a Cowgirl Barbie, one clothed in denim and brown leather, with cliche cowboy boots and a hat.

“She’s just like you, Daddy.”

Joel pulls a face, looking back and forth between Sarah and the doll. “How in the hell is she like me?”

Sarah scowls, pointing to the cowboy hat and explaining, “she’s a cowgirl! And you’re a cowboy!”

“I ain’t no cowboy” Joel retorts, shaking his head and leading Sarah over to the cashier’s desk. “When have you ever seen me in one of them hats, huh?”

Sarah giggles, itching to take the doll out of the box, and Joel knows she’ll do it the second he’s paid. “Maybe you can borrow hers, daddy, and be a proper cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, though the smile hasn’t fallen from his face for even a second. He pays, watching with joy as Sarah scrambles to rip open the plastic, finally pulling out the doll and hugging it the whole way home while making up stories of ranches and horses and pistol duels - she was certainly her father’s daughter.

“Barbie? You there?” Barbara pulls you out of your thoughts, staring at you as you finally turn to look at her.

“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”

“Keep getting memories, huh?”

You nod, looking out the plane window and into the skies. She still seems concerned, but lets it go, returning to her magazine and letting you be with your thoughts.

More memories swirl in your mind; you can see Sarah’s first days of middle school and high school, her most vulnerable moments of crying in her room and talking to you like you were the only one who’d listen, her relationship with her dad and how he’s become more and more distant over the years.

Sarah slams her bedroom door behind her, falling on the bed with a sigh. She sits back up, her eyes falling on the Cowgirl sat on the shelf across from her, growing dusty as she plays with it less and less.

She’s 14 now, too old for dolls really. And yet, that Barbie had been there with her through her toughest moments, and even now, it was comforting to have her there.

“Dad’s at work. Again.” She says, half to the doll, half to herself. “It sucks.”

She dives into her backpack, pulling out a small box and opening it up, the newly-polished watch inside glistening in the light from the window.

She takes it out, delicately, and turns it around to see the engraved lettering on the back.

‘No matter what, we have each other. I love you, Dad. From Sarah x’

She smiles, quickly placing the watch back in its box, not wanting to damage it before she could even give it to her Dad. “You think he’ll like it?” She asks the doll smiling at her from the shelf.

“I just… I just want him to know I love him. And that I know he doesn’t mean to be gone all the time.”

She stands, picking the doll up from the shelf and brushing the dust away, carefully readjusting her little hat and smiling at the piece of her childhood.

“I’ll give it to him tonight. If he ever comes home,” she sighs, lying down beside the Barbie and taking a nap, knowing she had a long wait ahead.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“Alright, here we are!” Barbara chimes, pulling up to the house you’d been looking for. 51 Mulberry Road.

“Are you nervous?”

“Hell yeah I’m nervous,” you quip, the fear plainly stated in your wide eyes. What if she doesn’t like you? What if you can’t help her feel less lonely? What if this just doesn’t work?

“Look, I’ve been there,” she replies, knowing exactly how you feel. “You’ve gotta remember that you’re her Barbie. You’re her friend, and she’s yours. It’s all gonna work out. My only advice? Don’t expect her to thank you for making everything amazing for women. Trust me, it does not end well.”

You giggle, remembering the story of when she first met Sasha, and hope Sarah won’t be quite as mean. You feel a little better, and thank Barbara for her support, grateful to have your friend back.

“Alright, I’m gonna go and get a coffee. If you need anything, call me, okay?” She hands you the little flip phone she bought, having shown you how to make texts and calls on it to her iPhone. You nod, thanking her again and stepping out of the car, the nerves building up as you hear her drive away and you’re left alone in front of the house.

You take a deep breath, your boots clicking on the path as you make your way up to the door, supported by a big wooden patio and a bench out front. It reminds you of home a little; your western-themed Dreamhouse, clad with old wooden floors and southern-style windows.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you raise a hand and knock, waiting with baited breath before you hear footsteps on the other side and the door swings open.

And there she is. Sarah.

She’s a little older than she was in the most recent memories you saw, around 16 now. She’s tall, with a purple cardigan on and pretty blue jeans that you’re jealous of already. Her smile is bright, precious, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was a Barbie herself.

“Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down with a slightly confused, but still polite expression.

You stall, the introduction you’d prepared completely forgotten, your mouth just opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sarah’s expression becomes one of concern more than anything, and she reaches out a soft hand to touch your arm, making you jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she pauses, looking you over again. “Sorry, do I… do I know you?”

You stumble again, trying to find the right words, and she must see how genuinely nervous you are because she searches behind you into the street, then pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Come on, you need something to drink.”

She leads you to the kitchen, a beautifully decorated but old fashioned room with porcelain tiles and wooden beams across the ceiling. You trace your fingers across the counter top, looking around in awe while Sarah pours you a glass of lemonade.

Your eyes fall to the corner of the room, where her school bag sits, and a familiar-looking cowboy hat pokes out. You walk towards it without thinking and pull out the doll, admiring the little plastic version of yourself.

“Oh, that’s - that’s not what it looks like. I’m not… I don’t play with dolls anymore, obviously, I just…”

Sarah’s voice trails off, and you assume she’s embarrassed, but when you turn to face her you realise it’s not that at all. She’s staring at you, then the doll, then back at you, with a cocktail of confusion and realisation on her face.

“You’re dressed… you look exactly like her. What -“ She’s cut off by the front door slamming shut, and a familiar voice shouting down the hall, “Sarah? I’m home.”

Her eyes widen, quickly looking for somewhere she to hide you, the stranger she’s invited in, panicking as her Dad’s footsteps get louder.

But it’s too late. Joel stands in the door frame, staring at you, then shooting Sarah a look that says, ‘the fuck is this?’

“Dad, I can explain-“ he cuts her off, staring you in the eye and taking a step towards you. He looks older than he did in your memories - not in the way that Sarah does, but in a tired way, like he’d worked a hundred years and counting. Grey curls wash over his head, matched by a silvery beard and sunken eyes, and for all the Kens you’ve known in your life, you don’t think you’ve met anyone as handsome as him.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks - no, demands, one arm protectively stretched in Sarah’s direction.

“I- I’m- Barbie. I’m Barbie.” You stutter, clutching the doll a little tighter in your hand. Joel’s face scrunches angrily, and he looks at Sarah again, who just shrugs.

“You’re fuckin’ what?” He asks, clearly unimpressed.

You panic, holding up the doll to your face, showing him the obvious similarities between you. The same clothes, same hairstyle, same eyes.

“You know, Cowgirl Barbie. Sarah’s Barbie,” you explain, a little more confident now, hoping they’d accept your explanation.

Your hopes are quickly dashed as Joel asks Sarah, “do you know this clown?”

His arms are clenched, and you try not to worry about what’s coming next.

“No, Dad, but-“

He cuts her off. “So you just invited this crazy person into our home?”

He’s shouting now, and you recoil, remembering Barbara’s first experience meeting Sasha. You wonder if this is worse.

“Dad, don’t talk about her like that,” Sarah shouts back. It makes you feel at least a little better, but it’s too late. Joel’s incensed, shouting about stranger danger and how you’re probably an escapee from some mental asylum, how weird it is that you know what dolls she owns and how to dress like them.

“- and you” he looks directly at you now, pointing. “You get the hell out of my home and you don’t speak to my daughter ever again, you hear me?”

Tears stream down your face as you nod, throwing the doll onto the counter and running past Sarah and Joel and out of the house. You can barely make it out the front door, stumbling against the columns on the patio, before making it just far enough onto the grass outside to stumble to your knees and let yourself cry properly.

That same, overwhelming loneliness fills you again, tearing deep into your chest and only adding to your pain. Your shoulders shake, and you try to remind yourself of what they teach you at Barbieland; crying is good, hurting is good. It means you’re alive.

But it really doesn’t feel good right now.

You can hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing, but you don’t really register it, not until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder.

You look behind you, meeting Sarah’s apologetic eyes, and you try to wipe your own of their flood of tears.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I must look horrible,” you laugh, though it’s forced.

Sarah smiles, sitting down in front of you, knees crossed. “I think you look beautiful.”

And that makes you really smile.

You giggle, pulling off your cowboy hat and setting it on the grass beside you. Your denim jacket feels a little hot now, too tight, but you try to ignore the feeling and focus on getting your breathing back to normal.

“Is it true? Are you really… her?”

Sarah’s question is soft, like she doesn’t know quite which answer she wants. You only nod, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“You’re Barbie?” She asks again, and you can tell she’s expecting a reply this time.

“Cowgirl Barbie,” you answer, still only looking at your hands.

“God, you know, when Stereotypical Barbie came here, she had such a good time. Mind you, that was in LA, so -“

Sarah cuts you off with a gasp. “Wait, that was real? I heard about that! It was all over Twitter - Barbie and Ken on roller skates in LA, Barbie in a pink cowboy outfit-“

“Yes!” You exclaim, excited - “she told me all about it! She chose the cowboy outfit ‘cos it reminded her of me, you know. We’re best friends.”

You’re showing off a little now, but you don’t care - it feels good to talk, to be believed.

Sarah watches you in awe. “Wow. So this is, like, real. This is real? You’re Barbie. Where’s Ken?”

“Oh, he had to stay back at home. Well, he didn’t have to, he would’ve come if I asked him to. He’s really sweet. I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden.” You explain, grateful he hadn’t seen you crying like this now you think about it.

“But isn’t he, like, your boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn't mind.” Sarah replies.

“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend,” you giggle at the thought. “No, no, we don’t really do that in Barbieland. Everyone’s their own person and makes themselves happy, no need for boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the Kens!”

“Rad,” Sarah grins, liking the sound of Barbieland. “So… why are you here?”

You reply honestly, there’s no use in skirting around it anymore. “Well… I feel what you feel, Sarah. And when you’re sad, and lonely, I feel that too. That’s why I came, to help you feel better.”

“Oh.” It’s all she says.

“Why do you feel like that?” Your tears have stopped by now, your face left red and puffy. You try not to start up again as you watch her face twist at your question.

“Just… stuff. With my dad. He’s never here anymore, always at work. It used to be just me and him against the world, you know? And now it feels like… like it’s just me.”

You pout, rubbing a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Sarah. You always have each other, just like the watch says.”

You smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but it’s quickly wiped away by the look of shock on her face.

You’re about to ask her what’s the matter when a southern drawl sounds from behind you, “how do you know that?”

You turn, facing Joel who stands on the steps of the porch, a hand on the railing. Your nerves set in again immediately, and you turn in on yourself, trying not to cry.

“Um, the watch, the one from Sarah. That’s what it says, right?” You can see that very watch strapped to Joel’s wrist, the glass broken, and he brings his other hand to touch it.

“No one else knows what’s written on that watch,” Sarah says, and you whip around to face her, “holy shit, this is really, really real, isn’t it? You’re her?”

You just nod, and she lets out a laugh, springing forward to hug you. You yelp in surprise but hug her back immediately, revelling in the feeling of wet grass hitting your back. Sarah pulls away, looking up at her Dad with pleading eyes, “come on Dad, you know this is real. She’s real. We have to let her stay.”

You sit up again, grabbing your hat and standing, facing Joel though your eyes stay trained on the floor. He’s silent for a long time, thinking, before he grunts and you can just about make out a whisper of “fine” as Sarah celebrates and leads you back into the house.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

You stay there a few days, mostly keeping out of Joel’s way. They set you up in the spare bedroom, but Sarah comes to get you most nights, and you stay up together having sleepovers and telling stories.

You tell her all about Barbieland, about the beautiful beaches and all-woman Supreme Court, the Dreamhouses and the perfectly blue skies. She tells you about her life, the latest drama at school, about Brad the boy who won’t leave her alone and Jenny, her best friend who definitely fancies Brad. It’s incredibly exciting, and you wonder why you never left for the real world sooner.

Barbara’s ecstatic for you, of course; she’s staying in a nearby hotel for as long as you need her there, you even plan to introduce her to Sarah soon.

You wake up one morning, covered in a duvet somewhere in the corner of Sarah’s room, a host of her other old toys laid out where she’d been explaining each one to you last night. You wondered if there’s a Thomas The Tank Engine Land, too.

There are voices downstairs, and for all the rules of politeness and social expectations you’ve learned, you can’t help but tiptoe to the top of the landing and listen in to the conversation. To make sure Sarah’s okay, more than anything.

“Oh come on, Dad. It’s just one day!” Sarah almost shouts, though it’s obvious she’s trying to keep her voice down. They both are.

“Sarah, I gotta go to work. How the hell am I meant to keep a walking-talking Barbie doll entertained for 7 hours, huh? You want me to talk about makeup and glitter?” Joel’s voice is thick and annoyed, though he’s noticeably gentler when he talks to her.

Sarah scoffs, and you can’t see her, but you know she’s rolling her eyes. “She’s more than that, Dad. She’s smart, and she’s caring. Just - just do this for me, okay? And as soon as I’m back from school, I’ll take her off your hands.”

You can’t see them, but you hear their footsteps walk a little closer to the stairwell. “Fine, fine. Whatever. You better go and wake her up then, cos I gotta leave in 20,” Joel resigns.

You see the top of Sarah’s head from your view between the bannisters, and quickly hurry back to her room and under the sheets. She enters, sitting beside your spot on the floor and whispering, “Barbie? Hey Barbie, wake up!”

You feign tiredness, lifting your head and smiling at the girl. “Oh hey, Sarah, good morning.”

She giggles, and you’re quickly aware of your bedhead, something you never experienced in Barbieland. She talks as you grab a brush and fix yourself up.

“So look, I gotta go to school today. But my Dad agreed to take you with him to work so you’re not on your own… is that okay?”

She must see the slight panic in your eyes, as she quickly scrambles to reassure you.

“I know he was a bit of a hot head when you first met him, but he’s just… protective. But he’s sweet, really. Just give him a chance.”

You think about it for a moment. Barbara is still staying nearby, and you know she’d come and hang out with you while you wait for Sarah to come home if you asked. But then again, maybe it’d be good to spend some time with Joel/ It’s obvious that a lot of what brought you here comes down to their relationship, and if you can help to fix that even just a little bit, then your journey will have been worth it.

“Okay,” you answer, giving Sarah a small smile. She grins, standing up and grabbing her school bag before shouting over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “great! He’s going in 20 minutes… better get ready!”

You gasp, jumping up from your little nest on the floor and searching through the duffel bag Barbara packed for you of outfits to wear, all western-themed of course.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Car rides with Joel are… awkward, to say the least.

He drives in silence, no radio, just the slow drone of traffic outside echoing between you, whistling through the open windows.

His car is very different to the ones in Barbieland. It doesn’t have an open top, the seats are worn and rough to the touch. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hangs in the air, and though you’re not used to it, you still find it comforting. Safe.

You reach for the radio, looking for a tune to play and maybe even sing - you’re sure that’ll cheer him up. But he stops you, not hurting you at all but batting your hand away and finally taking his eyes off the road.

“Don’t touch that,” he grunts, and you shrink back in on yourself again. He recoils a little, like he’s trying to appear less aggressive, and refocuses on the road.

“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.

He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the window beside him and readjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it’s you or just the way he’s sat, you don’t know.

“‘S fine,” he mutters, barely audible. You nod, unsure of what else to say after that. You’re not looking at him, though you can see his movements in the edge of your peripheral, and you’re certain you can see him glancing at you every couple of minutes.

He finally speaks again after a long span of silence.

“So…” he starts, tentative. “Is it hard to get here? From- from Barbieland?”

You turn, though he isn’t facing you, eyes trained on the road. You keep looking at him anyway - this is progress at least.

“It’s pretty simple. First you drive, then you cycle, then take a boat, then a rocketship, then you stay in a campervan for a little while, then a snowmobile and voila! You’re rollerskating into LA.” You grin, recounting your adventure into the real world, happy to be able to share it with him. You’re not sure what it is about him, but there’s just something inside of you that’s desperate for him to get you. To care.

Joel just grunts, rubbing his thumb and forefinger between his brows, and you’re worried for a second that he doesn’t believe you, again. But he doesn’t press, instead he seems to be thinking, and then he asks another question.

“How do you get back?”

“Gotta do all that in reverse,” you answer, giggling. You’re sure you can see the slightest pull of his lips, the hint of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You decide to try and engage him, let him talk. “Do you like what you do? For work?”

He just grunts again, and your shoulders sink, giving up. He doesn’t want to talk to you.

You decide not to press him further, but you can see him continue to glance at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, and there must be something in the air because he sighs before talking, a vulnerability in his voice.

“I used to. My Dad did it, contracting. Used to take me and my brother out every weekend and show us the trade. And when I started my business, that was good. Things were good. Now…” he trails off with a sigh.

“Things aren’t good?” You ask, trying to be careful. Trying to encourage him.

He nods. “Things are different, now. Busy. It’s a hard business.”

You don’t reply, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not sure how. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. After a few moments, he pulls up at a red light, switching gears and finally looking at you properly.

“What do you do? In Barbieland?”

“Cowgirl,” you reply, being the one to avoid his gaze now.

“Cowgirl?” He repeats, and you only nod, offering a small smile and waiting for his reaction.

“So is that, like, on a ranch?”

He’s switching gears again, cruising through the now green light and continuing the drive, muttering something about ‘almost there’ as you arrive in an upscale neighbourhood, lined with huge houses and cars that even the Barbies don’t have.

You shrug, self conscious, but you answer him. You owe him that. He did it for you.

“No, just… you know. I wear the hat, and the denim and the boots. And I just… cowgirl. That’s what I do.”

He nods, and for the first time since you met him, you’re not nervous about what he’ll say next. You feel comfortable with him, safe even, and you’re not sure what it is about this little drive that’s flipped that switch, but you think he might feel the same way.

“Does it pay well?” He asks, a playfulness in his tone that you haven’t seen in him before. It’s like he’s lit up over the course of your conversation.

You grin, meeting his eyes properly now, where he draws away for a moment at a time to check the road but lets his gaze fall back on you straight after.

“Better than contracting,” you sass. You’re not sure where the cockiness comes from, whether you’re matching his tone or you just feel that comfortable with him, and for a moment you’re worried you’ve offended him with the joke.

But then he laughs.

It’s not hysterics, but it isn’t an amused ‘huff’ either. It’s like a giggle, a bright, giddy laugh that spreads across his face and makes his eyes light up like stars in the sky. It’s beautiful. It’s sweet.

You tell him as much.

“You have a pretty smile.”

He slows a little, his mouth quickly reigning in its smile and his chest no longer bubbling with that sweetness it had before. But he doesn’t look angry, or offended. He looks as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Like no one’s ever told him that before.

“Thank you,” he whispers, the words quickly blowing away with the wind through the open window. You smile in reply, and he watches, neither of you seeming to notice that he’s stopped the car and you’ve reached your destination. Neither of you move.

And then he says the sweetest words you’ve ever heard.

“So do you.”

It’s gentle, mumbled so lowly you almost think he doesn’t want you to hear it, and yet it hits you in the chest like a lorry.

You’ve been told that before, of course you have. You’re a Barbie. Whether it’s the other Barbies complementing one another, or the Kens trying to flirt, or Allen just being the nice guy he is, you’ve heard those words before.

But you’ve never heard them like this, like they’re hard to say, but they need to be said anyway.

It’s powerful.

You smile again, so does he. You stay in the car a little while longer, in silence again, but it’s a silence laced with comfort and feelings you don’t know how to label. Until he finally breaks the spell, climbing out of the car and helping you out on your side.

He spends the day showing you his work, how to plan builds, how to measure up wood and mark all the right places to cut it. You learn there’s a key named after Allen, and Joel snorts when you tell him how excited you are to let him know that. He even lets you hammer a few nails, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter when he puts his arms around you to guide your movements, his breath in your ear.

And things are good after that day. Really good.

The three of you spend time together, as much as you can, almost like a family. You’ve never experienced family before, true family, but when you’re sat on the sofa with Sarah on a cushion on the floor and Joel to your side, just out of reach, you wonder if this is what it means to be home.

Of course, you quickly understand what Sarah means when she says she’s lonely. You know exactly where that feeling in your chest is coming from, because the times he’s with you are so fleeting, so far and few inbetween, that it feels like gold dust when you have him and like a black hole when you don’t.

And it’s only been a week before you realise just what it means, these feelings, and how they’re not like anything you’ve felt before.

Sarah reads you like a book, cornering you one day as you play dress up in her room.

“So, you like my Dad?” She asks, a knowing smirk already painted on her lips.

You splutter for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but you give up because you know she has you nailed down. You know she knows.

“Is it that obvious?” You wince, making her grin spread even further.

“Only, like, all the time,” she laughs, and you flip down on the bed dramatically, making her laugh more. “You know he likes you too, right?”

You sit up again in a flash, eyes wide and searching hers. She raises a brow as you stare, your mind racing - she wouldn’t joke about that, would she? “How do you know?” You ask.

She rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside you on the bed. “Oh come on, man. It’s so obvious. He always talks about you, Barbie said this, Barbie did that’.” She mocks his deep southern drawl, making you giggle. “And he’s always looking at you.”

You blush - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed. You suppose a part of you just never let yourself believe he could feel the same way.

“What do you think I should do?” You’re nervous now, unsure of yourself. Unsure if this is real.

Sarah smiles, a cheeky sort of grin that doesn’t make you feel particularly at ease, and pats your knee with her hand. “Leave it with me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

She calls you down that night, late, not long after Joel came home from work. You switch off the documentary you were watching, something about the animal kingdom, one that amazed you with all the creatures that walk the earth around you.

You tiptoe down the stairs, calling out Sarah’s name when you can’t find her in the front room, confused. You hear her again, distantly, like she’s outside, and you follow the sound through the kitchen and out the back door, where you’re greeted with the alluring smell of a sizzling barbecue.

“What is this?” You ask, stepping fully outside and taking in the scene. The backyard, usually overgrown and unkept, is littered with fairylights that wrap around the patio columns and line the fence right down to the end. The Miller’s barbecue is fired up, with an array of vegetable skewers and sausages and burgers cooking on top, Sarah proudly stood beside it in her apron while Joel watches, concerned.

Joel. He’s sat at the little table she’s put together, a round glass one with mismatched chairs on either side. He’s dressed up - his hair looks neater than usual, like he’s put extra care into styling it properly. His shirt isn’t plaid, or denim; it’s a light blue colour that matches the brown of his eyes so wonderfully. He looks nervous.

“Hi,” he says, gentle and soft. Your eyes must be wide and confused, because he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Sarah for support. She rolls her eyes - again - and puts down the tongs she’d been using to flip the burgers.

“You two are so boring pining over each other. So, I’ve set up a date!” She grins, turning back to the food without a care in the world.

You nod, taking another step forward, looking back toward Joel and not bothering to fight the smile that spreads on your face.

He doesn’t fight his, either.

You reach out for the chair opposite him, but before you can, he’s standing up and pulling it out for you, his eyes meeting yours.

Not one of the Kens have ever pulled out a seat for you, you think, thanking Joel and sitting on the little chair. He returns to his own seat, clearing his throat and pouring you a drink; red wine, a new favourite of yours since he introduced you to it.

Sarah plates up the food, setting it down in front of you in a dramatic waiter-style fashion.

“You’re certainly my daughter, huh?” Joel asks, pride in his eyes as he looks at the food, which you have to admit looks pretty damn good.

“The student has become the master,” she quips, and your heart melts at the sweet moment between the two.

“Now, you two enjoy. I’ll be in my room. If you need anything… get it yourself. The kitchen is literally right there.”

You and Joel roll your eyes as Sarah bows out, laughing at her own jokes and giving a final wave as she heads into the house, leaving you both alone.

“So,” you begin, unsure of what to say.

“So.” Joel mimics, though you don’t think he plans to say anything after that. He’s not one to initiate conversation.

But then again, people can change.

“You look really nice,” he says, his eyes so heavy set on you that it makes you feel flush. You look down, at the old baggy top you’re wearing over grey sweats, and you’re suddenly self conscious compared to his nice shirt and carefully-put hair.

“I don’t,” you reply, embarrassed. “I look like a mess.”

He interjects immediately. “No. You don’t. How could you? I mean you’re literally - you’re -“ he can’t find his words.

You finish the sentence for him. “A Barbie.”

“Yeah.”

You’re not sure why it makes you feel the way that it does. Sad. Like you’re not quite real to him, a novelty. He sighs, and for all the time you’ve spent with him by now, you can’t read what’s going on behind the man’s eyes at all.

You sit in silence for a short while, enjoying Sarah’s food, drinking wine. There’s something hanging in the air, heavy and strange, and neither of you know how to address it.

It surprises you when Joel finally breaks the silence again. “Do you miss home?” He asks, pouring you another glass.

You think for a moment. You answer honestly. “I don’t know.” His eyebrow quirks, motioning for you to continue.

“There was a time when I’d have never even dreamed of leaving Barbieland. When I didn’t want anything to change. But things are different now, since Ster- since Barbara left. Everyone thinks differently, feels differently. It’s a very different place. And suddenly everything that made me love Barbieland doesn’t matter to me anymore. The perfect wardrobe, the perfect house, the perfect life. None of that matters. It’s the things here, in this world, that matter.”

“What things?” Joel asks, and it’s only now that you notice his hand has migrated across the table, holding your much smaller one. You wrap your fingers around his, revelling in the small squeeze he gives you, fighting back a smile.

You’re staring at your interlocked hands when you answer. “Family. Purpose.”

You look at him. “Love.”

He breathes out, like he’s letting something go, something that made him scared but doesn’t anymore. You squeeze his hand.

The rest of the night goes smoothly. It’s sweet, comfortable. It’s nice.

Until you put your foot in it.

“Do you still feel lonely?” Joel asks, the buzz of red wine making his drawl even heavier.

You smile, glossy eyes doting on him, hands still intertwined. “Well, I felt lonely because Sarah felt lonely. So… no. I feel good.”

Joel frowns, his head tilts. “Do you know why she felt like that?”

You’re not sure how to approach this with him. It’s something you’ve thought about, pondered for days, turned over and over in your mind with no good resolution.

You know exactly why she felt like that. She told you as much.

My Dad’s never here. He’s always away, working. I don’t see him.

But you also know it’s a truth he won’t accept. Not easily, at least.

“Well,” you begin, treading lightly. “I think she just… misses you, Joel. Misses her Dad.”

He’s confused. He pulls away from you, his grip on your hand loosens. “But I’m here.” It’s an assertion, challenging your suggestion.

“I know, I know. But you’re not… you’re not here. You come home from work late, you’re tired, you go to bed. You wake up and before we can even say ‘good morning’ you’re out the door again, going to work.”

His jaw flickers, in that same way it did when you first met. He’s angry.

“I do what i have to do to support my family,” he grumbles, fully retracting his hand now. You feel the loss of his touch instantly, in your heart.

That same loneliness sets in again, but it’s not Sarah’s anymore. No, it belongs solely, wholly, to you.

You try to placate him. “I know, Joel, I know. I get it. I just -”

“Just what?” He interrupts you, and you pause, scared to speak. Scared to mess this up.

“She needs you to talk to her. She needs you to listen to her. She needs you to hold her and let her know she’s not alone. She doesn’t see that right now, Joel.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares into space, arms folded. Guarded.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“‘That how it works in Barbieland? Everyone gets what they want, everyone’s happy?” He asks, agitated.

You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”

“‘Cos that’s not how the real world works, sweetheart. Everythin’ ain’t perfect. The trees ain’t made of cotton fuckin’ candy.” He sneers, mocking you, and the words pierce through you like knives.

“And I ain’t taking parenting advice from no Barbie doll.”

That really, really hurts.

And it makes you angry, because for all your faults and weaknesses, being a Barbie certainly isn’t one of them.

“Why are you being so defensive?” You ask, your tone rising to match his. “You know I'm right. All that girl wants is her Dad, not a stranger who’s barely there, not a ghost that puts food on the table but won’t even come home on time for her. She wants her Dad, Joel.”

He stands, slamming his palms on the glass with so much force you fear it’ll shatter. He doesn’t shout, but his words are sharp, pointed, and they land exactly where he intended them to.

“You have no idea what it’s like. You’re stuck in your fantasy world, where everything’s pink, but you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to live in the real world. So why don’t you head back to your special Barbieland and leave the actual living, the hard parts, to the rest of us, huh?”

Tears threaten to spill on your cheeks, your eyes burning from the strain of holding them back. “Joel, you don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. Just… just get out of my house.”

He walks away from the table, crossing his arms and facing away from you, staring out into the night. You nod, to yourself if no one else, breaking your strength as a sob racks through your body. You clasp a shaking hand to your mouth, not wanting him to hear you, but you see the way his shoulders clench. He heard.

He doesn’t react further, though. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t make sure you’re okay.

So you do what he said. You leave.

You stalk past Sarah, wiping away the onslaught of tears that have taken hold now, ignoring her as she shouts between you and Joel. “Guys? What’s going on?”

She doesn't follow you upstairs, choosing to give you space and speak to her Dad instead, you think. You text Barbara, asking her to pick you up, and shove your clothes into your bag as quickly as you can in spite of your blurred vision and the messy hair that covers your face.

You’re not sure how long it’s been, you’d have only thought seconds if you didn’t know Barbara’s hotel was at least 10 minutes away, but you hear her beep the horn from outside and follows its direction.

Sarah’s waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You look down the hall, where Joel sits at the kitchen counter, arms still folded and head down.

“Please,” Sarah begs, “don’t go.” She’s crying, and it makes your heart hurt more.

“I have to.”

You try to move past her, but she stops you, blocking the way with her body. “Sarah, I have to,” you repeat, choking on your own sobs.

“Why?” She shouts, hot tears staining her face. “My Dad told me what happened. You’re right. He’s wrong, he’s always wrong. He’s never here, but you are, and now you’re leaving me like everyone else. Like my Mom.”

Your nose scrunches. More tears fall. Your chest hurts. “I’m not your Mom, Sarah. And your Dad… he loves you. He loves you so much. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay? He loves you. I love you.”

She doesn’t stop you when you try to leave again. You all but run out the door, the once comfortable night air now painful as it hits your wet cheeks, ice cold. Barbara looks at you with more concern than you’ve seen her with before, more than when she discovered the Mojo Dojo Casa Houses, but you say nothing as you get in the car. You just stare straight ahead, and she drives.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“I’m so sorry, Barbie. I never thought it’d end like this.”

Barbara’s holding your hands, reluctant to let go. You don’t know when you’ll see her again. “It’s not your fault,” you reply, and it’s true. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.

“And it isn’t yours, Barbie,” she retorts, like she can read your mind. You just nod, unconvincing, but she doesn’t push it.

You hug her, for the millionth time since she took you home from Joel and Sarah’s house, since she flew back to LA with you. And now here you are, at Venice Beach with your roller skates on, going back to the place you’ve always called home.

So why does it feel like you’re going anywhere but?

“Thank you for everything, Barbara. I mean it.” You pull back, wiping a tear from her cheek and smiling the best you can, your own tears rolling down your face like the skaters behind you.

She smiles back, and though she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. You know she loves you. You know she’ll miss you.

And with that, you pull away, pushing on each skate until you’re rolling away from the real world and back into your own. Back where you belong, where you’re supposed to be. Where you’re actually wanted.

There are people pointing, laughing at you as you skate past them, but you don’t care. You haven’t cared about anything since last night.

You can see the snowscape ahead, the next part of your journey. Your next step towards Barbieland and a world of pink perfection.

A world that isn’t the same to you now.

You’re nearly there, about to switch skates for the snowmobile, when a familiar, desperate voice comes from behind you.

“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”

You brake, skates screeching on the ground, as you turn to search for him in the crowd.

And there he is, Joel, clinging to a ramp on the left side of the park with the most ridiculous pair of neon green roller skates you’ve ever seen.

“Joel?” You call, immediately rolling over to him when you realise how much he’s struggling. If you weren’t so filled with the joy of seeing him here, you’d laugh at the state he’s in; eyes wide and legs falling beneath him, clearly not used to roller skating. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I wanted to- jesus, if I could just stand up-” You giggle, and he shoots you a look, which just makes you laugh harder. You help him up, laying a gentle hand on his chest as he nearly falls again, your other hand clinging to his waist as he finally finds his balance.

He’s blushing, embarrassed, but there’s something else in his eyes as they finally settle on you and he sighs. “Barbie, I’m so sorry.”

You’re not sure where to look. At him, at your hands, at those ridiculous roller skates he’s wearing. Of course, you can’t pull your eyes from him, anyway.

“It’s - it’s okay. You were right anyway, I’m not-”

“No, no,” he interrupts, placing both hands on your cheeks and quickly stumbling as he loses his balance again without the support of the rail. You hold him, giggling as he almost brings you both down, though you manage to keep him upright and he laughs right there with you.

“Jesus, this is embarrassing,” he finally huffs, and your head falls against his chest. When you raise it again, he’s already looking at you, with those big brown eyes that you never want to forget.

“I wasn’t right. I was an asshole. A huge, insecure asshole.” You try to shake your head, to disagree, but he doesn’t let you. “Just let me say this,” he begs. You let him.

“You were right. I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been the Dad she needs me to be. I’m just… I’m just scared. Of not being good enough. Of letting her down. So I work, and come home late, and leave early, and I convince myself it’s the right thing to do. But I’m hurting her. And I hurt you.”

There’s pain in his eyes, and it pains you as if they were your own.

“I haven’t seen Sarah this happy in a long time,” he continues, resting a hand on your cheek again, carefully this time. “Barbie, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

You don’t know what to say. You take your hand from his waist, tentative, making sure the other one is stable on his chest. You place it over his where it rests on your cheek, folding your fingers around his own, and turning to press a gentle kiss into his palm. He mumbles something, you don’t hear what, but from the look in his eyes you think you know.

“Don’t go,” he begs. “Don’t - don’t go back there. I want you here. You belong here.”

You look into his eyes. You know he means it.

And so you do the only thing that makes any sense in this moment.

You kiss him.

You’re careful to keep him upright, but he seems to have stopped caring about that; instead both hands are on you again, frantic, holding you tight like he never wants to lose you again.

When you finally break the kiss, neither of you pull away from one another, your foreheads connected and breaths intertwined.

“Okay,” you gasp, pulling on his shirt. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Joel closes his eyes again, sighing in relief as you finally release your other hand, touching it to his neck and feeling the rapid pulse that beats against it. You’re holding one another so closely, so tightly, that there’s no way he can fall now.

“You’ll come back to Texas?” He asks, like he still doesn’t quite believe you.

You nod again, giggling at the joy that spreads on his face, though it’s quickly muffled when he kisses you again. And again, and again and again until you’re breathless and sweaty and no longer sure which of you needs help staying upright the most.

You help him turn, wrapping your arms around his waist and supporting him as you try to make your way back across the park, and only then do you see Barbara and Sarah stood to the sidelines, watching, smiling.

You realise Sarah has her phone out, pointed at her Dad, and you’re pretty sure Joel sees it too but before he can say anything, he slips again and falls flat on his bum on the floor, bringing you right down with him.

You gasp, cushioned by his chest and his protective arms around you, laughing hysterically as he groans and sits up. You watch as his face turns from pain into anger, his eyes fixated on something ahead, and you think you know what it is-

“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Tag list: @vickie5446 @skysmiller @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @letmehavemyfictionalmen

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x yn #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x barbie!reader #poeticbarnes writes #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #barbie #barbie movie

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stanfanfiction · 9 months

Text

Taste of You - Ken / fem! Reader fanfic - PART TWO

Edit: multiple parts have been uploaded and can be found on my pinned Masterlist on my profile :)

Tags/ warnings: 18+ ONLY / virgin Ken / oral (f and m receiving) / lots of fluff and horny angst / bashful Ken / first time sex / Ken being confused and adorable and hot / slow burn / smut / praise k!nk

Ken stared at you, nodding slightly, but his nerves seemed to still get the better of him at your soft command to “get in the bed.” You touched his cheek gently. He hummed happily, nuzzling his cheekbone into your palm, eyes twinkling, still looking at you, enjoying being treated so gently.

“What is it, Ken?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathed in, and brought a hand up to make sure your hand stayed against his cheek. He shrugged the tiniest bit, glancing away when he opened his eyes again. “I, well, I thought I knew enough….to…I wanted to…impress you.”

Any shred of his forced “cool” demeanor completely gone, you smiled at him, small and quiet. “You do impress me, Ken.”

He stared. “Don’t lie to me. Please,” he whispered, sounding choked up.

You shook your head. “I’m not. I won’t.” You get why Ken might not have the best self esteem, especially considering his kind of forced himbo status since his “birth” into the world and considering how, reading through the lines based on what Ken had told you, that all of the Kens back in Barbieland held the same level of intellect. So you got why he would, here with you in your world, definitely feel overwhelmed and possibly not the brightest.

Ken glanced down at himself again, still holding your palm to his cheek. “You promise?”

“Ken, everyone has to learn this kind of thing this way, and have someone show them.”

He stood a little straighter then. “Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.” You slowly reached your free hand towards his cock, which did somehow resemble a gorgeously huge, fake looking sex toy you would get at a shop. But then, he WAS technically a doll…somehow…even here, in your world..you stopped thinking too hard about it as you wrapped your hand softly around the base of him, not wanting to move too fast, making sure he felt comfortable with everything. He inhaled sharply as you applied pressure with your hand, although not moving it yet.

“Is this okay, Ken?” You whispered.

He continued to stare at your hand wrapped around him as you kept a steady grip on his shaft, gently gliding up to his tip. As you circled your thumb around his crown, he let out the most gorgeous shiver. The noise that escaped his lips was almost silent but made you suddenly desperate to hear more, hear him louder.

“How is this?” You asked, thumb continuing to rub on him.

He exhaled loudly, his hand gripping the your one that he had been holding to his face by the wrist and squeezing, almost in pulses, unintentionally in time with the bolts of pleasure he was feeling as you touched him.

“This is…it’s good. Really,” he swallowed, “really good.” He shuddered again, and you knew you had to get him on the bed and start to have your way with him already.

“Ken, can I keep doing this to you? But, on the bed?”

He finally looked back up into your eyes. His pupils were huge, and he breathed through his mouth - god, how the fuck were you so attracted to his mouth now, and thinking of the things you would teach him to do with it.

“Mmmhmm,” he replied, short, simple. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just lie back, get comfortable.” You removed your hand from his groin, and he moaned in disappointment. “I’ll start again, once you’re..” you nodded to the bed directly behind you. He walked to where you had directed, not letting go of your wrist, and sat down, staring at you expectedly. You felt like you should have been frustrated but somehow every moment of this was just blissful, quiet, mesmerizing. Watching him was *truly* mesmerizing.

“Okay, get further up the bed. Lay back for me.”

He did as you asked, still not letting go of your wrist, thus pulling you up towards the headboard with him. It was as if he was afraid you would leave if he let you go.

“Good Ken,” you said, not really thinking through your words until you heard him breathe in sharply again. Oohhhh….of course he would have a praise kink. And of course he wouldn’t even known what a *kink* is yet, you thought.

His eyes trained on you every moment, you straddled him slowly. His gaze flickered up to your face, your lips, down to your legs suddenly encasing his hips, back to your eyes, then your hand as you set it firmly onto his muscled chest.

“I’m going to need this hand back,” you said, gesturing to your imprisoned wrist.

Ken shook his head. You bit back a giggle. “Why, Ken?”

“I don’t want to,” he said simply, not forced or dominant, just…an answer.

“It’ll be easier to make you feel good if you do.”

He paused, then using that same wrist, pulled you down towards him. You were a bit shorter than he was, so even with your hips at the same distance as his, your face barely hovered over his head as you were forced to lean over him, your free hand supporting you still ground into his chest. You weren’t sure what it was he needed, but the tension between you was so thick -

Ken reached his free hand up to tangle in your hair, lifting his head up to suck your lips into his. A moan escaped you effortlessly as he nipped and pulled on your mouth. As you gently dug your nails into his chest, his hips bucked, unexpectedly for the both of you. His head fell back immediately and you were now beginning to become slightly annoyed that he didn’t know what he was doing, because he bare cock stabbing into your panties just then made you want to ride him, hard and NOW. He gasped at the same time you did, staring up at the ceiling as in disbelief.

“THIS is why I need both my hands, Ken,” you said, your voice firm now. He looked at you, his body stiff, chest heaving.

“If you don’t like anything, literally anything at all, tell me. I will stop.” You stared back at him, and saw in his eyes that he believed you. “I promise.”

He finally released your wrist. Somehow the loss of his grip actually made you sad for a moment. You cursed yourself in your head then sat back up, moving your hips down a bit so his groin was now fully exposed to you. Your core sat on his thighs, his thick muscular, dear fucking god I bet he will be able to fuck like a stud, between those thighs and those abs and - you forced yourself to focus, Ken lying motionless beneath you and staring. The guy never seemed to stop staring.

You breathed in and wrapped both of your hands around his cock, firmly. He moaned loudly, head falling back into the pillows, and you decided it was best to just keep moving because if you asked him if he was okay every time you made a move, this would probably last days…not that it would be a bad thing, but…

You began stroking him up and down, making sure to squeeze a little more at the tip and rub your thumb around it before going back down like he seemed to enjoy earlier. And he was very much enjoying it. He grasped the covers beneath him, eyes squeezed shut, moaning loudly at every sensation. His breathing became so rapid you were *almost* worried he was going to hurt himself.

“Is this good, Ken?” You asked, not stopping your movements.

“Ahhmmm..mmhmm…I..AHH!” He sputtered his words, and you felt even more heat grow in your core, watching this man be absolutely destroyed by your touch. His body shivered deliciously, his muscles flexing every time he tensed.

You leaned over without announcement, taking his tip into your mouth and moving it in rhythm with your hands. The noise he made…dear. Fucking. God. He looked down at you now, his eyes wide, his legs trembling a little.

You smiled, more to yourself than to him, as you pushed as much of him into your mouth as you could handle. Ken made a sobbing noise and gripped your hair tightly in both hands. You knew he didn’t intend to, but he was actually pulling a little too hard, and you discovered it turned you on more. You began sucking him a little faster, taking breaks to suck and lick only his tip, then going back down as far to his base as you could muster.

“I…fuck…Y/n…I can’t -“

You sat up, releasing his member from your lips, but still holding him with one hand. You actually felt concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I need…I can’t…breathe.”

You climbed back up closer to him, hovering over his torso, taking his face in both of your hands. His pupils were fully blown, his hair messy from tossing it back and forth on the pillows, and his entire body was flushed. He looked like he had just been fucked out of his mind. Your fingers on his cheeks seemed to soothe him, and again he reached a hand up to hold one of your hands and cradle it as he leaned into your palm.

“Are you okay, Ken?”

His eyes closed, he hummed an answer that sounded winded but content.

“What do you need?” you asked.

“Mmmmmm. Just you.” He sounded almost drugged, smiling and turning his face to plant kisses into your palm.

“Do you not want me to finish?”

“Finish what?”

Holy shit. He didn’t even know what a climax was. You were dumbfounded for just a moment, not knowing what to say. He helped snap you out of it.

“Why aren’t you undressed, y/a?” The sudden realization dawned on him, and he leaned up onto his elbows, you moving back a little to avoid him literally smashing his face into yours.

“I, uhh…was wanting to focus on your first.”

He cocked his head. “But in the movie -“

“Yes, I know, they were both not wearing clothes.”

“Do you dislike not wearing clothes?”

His desire to discover an answer was - why did everything he was doing right now make you want to fuck him more.

“Oh!” He sat up more, face bright with a new realization, and now you fully straddled his lap as his hands came up to wrap around your waist, almost as if a seatbelt to keep you safe. “Is it because I’m supposed to undress you? Like how you undressed me?”

You didn’t know why you kept losing your words tonight, but now it was fucking happening again.

You were taken off guard as he wrapped his hands around your small nightly, pulling it off in one easy, swift motion. He smiled at your proudly, and you just stared at him in disbelief, until he glanced down and saw your breasts. Then his entire face became entranced. You didn’t realize you were covering yourself with your hands until you spoke.

“Now I KNOW you’ve seen this. These were aalll over that movie.”

“Yes, but those weren’t yours.” He reached up and pulled your arms away easily, gazing at you as if opening a fascinating book for the first time. You held your breath as he held you open for him, his lips parting slightly as if in a trance. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth without warning, and you caught yourself pulling back from the sudden touch. Ken seemed to sense that you weren’t saying “no” as much as you were saying, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that,” and he placed both large hands onto your back and he easily pulled you into him again, this time his lips latching tightly onto your nipple.

Now it was your turn to shudder. He sucked gently and hearing your moan, pulled you between his lips a little harder. You exhaled loudly when his tongue swept over it, and he hummed contentedly, continuing his exploration of your nub for awhile longer. You placed your hands on his shoulders, not needing to balance yourself but wanting to touch him as he held you firmly in place with his own hands, pressing harder into your back so you were easier to suck on, to take more of your breast into his mouth. You bucked when he bit down, gently, but still without expectation, and he grunted when your clothed vulva once again pressed against his naked cock.

He pulled away, looking up at you. Now YOU were flushed and heaving and…all over a goddamn nipple? Fuck. What was happening.

You looked at him, suddenly feeling a little self conscious again. “Hi,” you whispered.

He beamed at you in adoration. “I made you feel good, too?”

You exhaled and smiled, laughing a soft, breathy giggle. “Yes, Ken.”

“I’m good at this now?”

You brought your hands up to run your fingers along the back of his neck, and his expression let you know this was another new sensation he hadn’t experienced before. “You are very good at this, Ken.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, sighing, holding you close to him. Honestly, you were thankful for this moment, you needed a breather. You stayed like this until he pulled back, once again looking confused. Your stomach flipped. Oh no, what this time?

“The man went off screen to go down on the woman, too. Like when the woman went offscreen…she was doing what you did to me?”

You realized what was about to happen and blushed so deeply you felt the heat in your cheeks literally burn. “Mmmhmm,” you got out.

He looked down at you, at your panties still covering your core. “Then it’s my turn to do that to you.” He smiled, confident he had given you the correct answer and that you would be proud of him. He reached for the tops of your panties but you stilled his hands, suddenly VERY nervous.

Ken frowned. “What is it? Are you confused like I was earlier?”

Your mind raced. Of course you had had sex before, many times, actually. But suddenly being put in a position to REALLY have to focus on literally every single detail, down to introducing this man to what a woman’s privates looked like, how to touch them, studying every sound and movement you made, and how incredibly vulnerable that made you feel…you were frozen for a moment.

Ken remained silent, contemplating what he was supposed to say. You seemed anxious like he had been earlier, so, you must have been feeling the same worries that he had, he mused. He racked his brain for a moment, then said, “If you don’t like anything, literally anything at all, tell me. I will stop.” He smiled now, obviously proud of himself for remembering what you had told him earlier. You realized he assumed that what must be said every time someone was about to give another oral sex. It must just be the “normal” thing in his mind - and he had zero idea what giving oral to you was going to be like.

You nodded slowly, and looking genuinely concerned, he began moving one hand up and down your back gently, tracing your curves with his fingers. It’s as if he knew he needed to help you relax, and his instinct this time was finally perfect. Your body became less rigid, and he moved the other hand to hold and squeeze your other breast, and you became dizzy and…just…fuck it.

You leaned into him completely, kissing his jawline, his neck, his collarbone, leaving tiny bites here and there, loving the gasps he made and how certain areas that felt particularly good made his grip on you tighten. His chest melted into yours as he kissed you greedily, hungrily, and he ran his tongue along your lips. You moaned and could tell he smiled a little, feeling proud. He knew now that you liked his tongue, a lot.

After awhile longer, he pulled back, looking back down at your panties. “Can I take these off now? Please?”

He fucking said please….

You took a deep breathe, and climbed off of his lap. He whined at the loss of contact as you reached to pull your panties off.

“No!” He started, hand reaching out. “No, that’s my job to do.”

“This isn’t like a formal thing, Ken.”

Confusion. Again.

“Just let me do it,” he pleaded, not seeming to want to understand what you had said, but literally giving you puppy dog eyes as he held the waistband of your panties in both hands now, only waiting for you to give permission. You didn’t think he really understood the concept of consent, but that he just really didn’t want to do anything to upset you.

You laid back in the bed onto your back now, and he watched every moment, the most loving look on his face. You nodded finally, taking your hands away from his, allowing him the access he craved.

He smiled as he pulled the clothing off of you, leaving you completely bare. You worked hard not to force your thighs together, just breathe, just let him see.

He didn’t say anything at first. He was still, as if working to understand, once again, something he had never seen before.

Fuck, fuck, fuck stop feeling self-conscio-

You internal scolding hushed as he gripped both of your thighs again, pulling you open. You held your arm over your mouth, trying to just be silent. You didn’t feel shame per say, but this was all such a mind-fuck and you -

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He sighed.

You looked over your arm, and he continued boring his gaze into your core. “So, so beautiful, Y/N.” One of his hands begin grazing up one of your thighs, and once again you worked to control your breathing. His fingertips ever so goddamn gently touched your clit, and you gasped, His barely-there touch was electric. “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” he cooed. “You’re incredible.”

One finger ran down your entire core, slowly, studying every little crease it could find, memorizing you. You let out a small sob yourself, just trying to get through whatever wonderful torture this was.

Ken looked back up at you. “Hey, Y/N?” You were silent, expecting him to be asking another sex question. “Y/n? Please? Will you look at me?”

You did as he asked, his stunning, chiseled body planted firmly in front of you. Oh god, the things running through your mind that could literally happen at any moment if you’d just fucking explain them to him.

“Yes, Ken?” You breathed.

“How do I make you feel good now? I…haven’t seen one…”

You nodded, working through how exactly you wanted to introduce him to this new segment. “Uhm,” you began, deciding maybe it was best if you did the touching, at the least for now.

“So, this area here,” you touched your clit with a finger, pressing on it slightly, chills running through you. Chills that Ken definitely noticed. He looked excited but focused.

“And here,” you went lower, slowly, “is the vagina.” You held your lips open a little so you could show him easier.

“Mmmhmm. Okay.” He encouraged you to go on, letting you know he was paying attention.

You decided you would stop feeling any form of embarrassment from this point forward and just force yourself to enjoy this, not think about it…

“The vagina,” you said, dipping one of your fingers into it, but didn’t continue when you heard him gasp, his eyes wide.

“So I put my fingers on your clit and in your vagina and that makes you feel good?”

“Mmmhmmm,” you replied, slowly taking your finger back out to rub your clit again.

“Okay, yeah, mmhmm I can do that.” He was talking more to himself than to you, and hurriedly moved the hand you were using to touch yourself out of his way, eager to try.

“Wait, Ken!”

He startled at your command. He looked almost incredulous, why would you stop something right when he understood?

“Listen.” You sat up now, holding his hands. “This is…there’s a LOT that goes on from this point forward.”

He nodded, listening, wrapping his hands around yours in a protective way.

“You don’t have to just use fingers.”

He nodded quickly, letting go of your hands. “Yes, I know.”

“Ken, you -“

He shushed you with his lips again, pushing you back onto the bed, his weight fulling pressing into you. You moaned, and you knew at the moment you were wet enough for anything he had to offer. He smiled again. “You took such good care of me. Let me take care of you. I know what you need now.”

He slowly began kissing down your neck, your jawline, your collarbone, mimicking the tiny nips you had given him. You closed your eyes and shivered, trusting him to just discover as he went along for now.

He tenderly kissed your breasts, your navel, your hips, holding them while he loved on you firmly, making sure you knew he wanted you to stay there.

When he got down to your core again, you opened your eyes, watching. His eyes met yours, and he smiled one more time, quiet yet confident. A single digit pressed against your clit, circling it, learning how it moved underneath his touch. You moaned softly, and that was enough for him to lower it down to your opening, holding your lips open with his other hand like you had shown him. You braced for “impact,” but all he did was trace around it, staring at it, then back at you. The almost ghost of a touch was fascinating to experience. You had never felt anyone look at you, touch you with so much love, so much care.

“Does it hurt when I put my finger in?” He asked, still circling the muscle gently.

“Mmm, uh, sometimes. If I’m not wet enough.”

He took a moment to contemplate that answer, then leaned down and placed the most delicate kiss into your folds, his touch and breath making you absolutely melt. You wrapped a hand in his hair and just basked in the moment. “What a good Ken.”

This made him even more confident, and he began kissing your core more, up and down, and honestly it felt so wonderful you didn’t want to tell him to do anything else, until his lips suddenly wrapped around your clit and sucked.

You hips bucked and your cried out, and Ken’s eyes sparkled up at yours with joy of figuring out something that *really* made you feel good, and he began lapping at it with his tongue, in the exact same order he had discovered tasing your nipple.

“Ohhh my god,” you panted, pulling his hair hard, which he seemed to love. “So good, Ken. You’re so good at - AHH! Fuck, god, you are incredible.”

Once you started almost mewling, he moved his lips down to your opening, and slowly traced his tongue around it. You were done. Your body went into alternating spasms of being limp then becoming rigid with every movement. When he stuck his tongue inside you, you basically began to sob. He hummed his approval as he licked you deeply in circles then slowly in and out, holding your legs apart because you had begun squeezing them around his head.

Finally he pulled back a little, licked up over your clit again with firm pressure, and exhaled. “Will it hurt if I put my finger in now?”

You knew you looked like a mess, and felt almost goddess-like in it. “Not at all. Please,” you pulled harder on his hair. “Please, Ken. I need it.”

“You need my finger?” You couldn’t tell if he was egging you on or if he was confirming what it was you wanted.

“Yes, you, your finger, your cock, I don’t care anymore. Please, my good boy, I just *need* it.”

Realization dawned on his face, and you cursed yourself for letting the idea of his cock get into his mind again, because even though now he finally understood what he thought he was doing when he dry humped you, you didn’t want to distract him until he had made you come. You felt insane right now.

“Oohhhhh,” he said, smiling warmly at you. “I understand.”

“MMhmmm,” you quipped, trying to to tug his head back down towards your vulva. “Please, now.”

“Fingers?”

You nodded, and he slowly pushing one of his achingly large digits into you, staring at you, making sure you seemed to feel good. You moaned loudly, opening your legs wider. Ken was hypnotized by you.

“More, please.” It was hard to comprehend the right words to get out, as you began bucking into his hand.

“More?”

“Fingers. Need two. Need you to move.”

“Two more? Or two in -“

“KEN, PLEASE!” You cried in frustration, unable to think you were so overwhelmed with sensation and desire.

Kens focus whipped back to your core, pulling out his single finger than pushing two back into you. Your groan was delicious, as was the heat surrounding his fingers now. The wetness, the warmth, the tightness of the muscle he was penetrating. He watched and felt in awe as he began moving his fingers in and out, trying to mimic the way you had been bucking into him.

“Yes, and, please,” you mewled, “curl? Like this?” You showed him two fingers through glazed eyes, curling them upward. Ken stared, determined to do what you were wanting, and copied with his fingers inside you. He did something perfectly because now your hips moved more into his touch, and he moaned as he watched your writing, moaning, all because he was making you feel good. His assault became a little faster after awhile, a little harder, testing out what limits there were, his eyes never leaving your face, your body, memorizing every movement.

"I need your lips, please," you started, then continued quickly, "fingers are good. Keep doing, ahh!!" he hit the spot really hard unexpectedly, and you felt the most amazing pleasure roll through you. "Keep doing THAT, but use your lips on my -"

Ken understood immediately, much to your surprise, but also much to your gratitude as he began sucking and licking your clit in rhythm with his fingers, and you tightened your grip in his hair.

"Please, please, Ken, don't stop," you pleaded, your climax hurriedly approaching.

Ken wanted to pull back and tell you he wouldn't stop, but decided against it, since he wanted to keep doing this to you for as long as you wanted. Your orgasm hit hard and strong, your back arching off the bed, almost screaming as he didn't let up his movements for a single second, even after your body collapsed back onto the bed and you worked to catch your breath.

"Okay, Ken, thank you - ah! oh no, please really, stop."

He stared up at you but kept going, again confused for whatever reason, wanting to make sure he was making you happy.

"Ken, it hurts now." You said, and he halted immediately. He jerked back, removing his lips and fingers from you as if he had been struck.

"I hurt you??" He looked broken.

"No!! no, no, please. Come here. Lay with me." You smiled at him, inviting him to you, and he gingerly crawled up and lay besides you, wanting to touch you so badly still, but not sure what he had done wrong.

"Mmmmm," you breathed happily into his hair, allowing yourself to relax and enjoy the post-orgasm glow. "Thank you, Ken."

He felt tense. You pulled his arm to wrap around your waist, kissing his lips, and he kissed back, still staring at you, needing an answer.

"You made me feel very, veerryy good, Ken. You got me to orgasm."

"I got you a what?”

"When a person is being pleasured, sometimes their pleasure *peaks,*" you show him using your hand, going upwards like mimicking a rollercoaster. "It feels amazing. Like an explosive amount of feeling good," she said, loving using the term he found to be the best way to describe everything tonight. "And then you get all warm and feel all glowy, and cuddly, and sleepy. Like I am right now."

“And I didn’t hurt you?”

“Oh, that’s more because after I orgasm, I’m really sensitive. So it could hurt if you keep going.”

Ken allowed his head to now relax into the pillow next to you, and he smiled. "I made you feel the best you could feel?"

"MMmmmm," you smiled, kissing the tip of his nose, your hand finding its way back into his hair.

Ken smiled, proud, and like he was going to say he loved you. Thankfully he didn't and instead said, "Did I have one of those?"

You shook your head. "Not yet. It can get kind of intense. You seemed like you needed a break."

"I don't know how it could feel better than what you did," he admitted, wrapping your free hand in one of his, kissing your palm again. He seemed to love doing that.

"It can. We can make that happen, if you like."

He smiled sleepily, even though you were pretty sure he wasn't actually tired but rather just matching your energy. "You said my cock can go into -"

"Yes," you cut him off.

"Is that how I orgasm?"

"That's one way." You snuggled your body fully into his now, your skin-to-skin contact making you more relaxed, and Ken nudged his knee in between yours.

"Can we do that next time? After I make you have an orgasm first?"

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