#I made my own weird barbie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

primaviva · 9 months

Text

PAIRINGS: gwen, miles (42!), hobie, pav, and miguel x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS: astv characters and their s/o going to see barbie.

WARNING/NOTES: matching outfits, the mention of o-o-oppenheimer 🤢🤮, barbie photo ops, miguel being a mamón

— GWEN

i hate to say it so… but she wanted to watch oppenheimer first.

she sent you a text talking about sum “babe let’s see oppenheimer it looks good 🥰” and then you sent her a voice memo of gun shots from your gun sound simulator app and she understood she was wrong.

gwen thinks father of the atomic

it’s not like she didn’t wanna see barbie but she was like… it’s barbie

“babe cmon! you can’t tell me oppenheimer doesn’t look cool. what is barbie even about? is she gonna go on an adventure to find that old rubber high heel the little girl that owns her lost those many years ago? oooo so interesting.”

“do not mock me gwendolyn.”

you showed her the trailer as gwen showed you the oppenheimer trailer

in the end you both lost.

yeah… oppenheimer is a glorification a historical event that people don’t touch on the affects it had and rather the men behind it

and yeah… barbie having an existential crisis on what it means to be a woman and her place in the world sounded like it had potential

“i mean, yeah the trailer is kinda fire,” you admitted, weak in defeat.

gwen crossed her arms with a smirk of victory. “see! i told you that it looked cool,” she rubbed in your face before changing her expression, “but… barbie also sounds like it’s gonna be good. who says we can’t do both?”

you guys do barbieheimer.

and since you both were already gonna indulge in the internet craze… of course you played into it

gwen dressed in all black in this tux and even got the hat to match

you on the other hand wore all pink in tribute to barbie

she was FAWNING over you.

the cute outfit? the accessories? you in general?

you also couldn’t lie with how attractive gwen looked in a blazer I MEANNNN

she wore a bunch of rings on her hands and had a tie and all but she made it looser and looser until she just took it off and shoved it in her pocket before y’all left because it was annoying the shit out of her

“oh my you look so dapper,” you complimented, fighting back laughs from your choice of wording.

you watched as she smoothed down the blazer, shocked that she even had that in her closet. it was weird seeing her dressed like that and you couldn’t help but try to not look. it would be a bad night if she caught you peeking because yeah, you know she’s fine, but do you want her knowing that? to use that against you as leverage? hell. no.

gwen let out a laugh as she striked a pose, hands on her hips moving the sides of the blazer behind her to show off black waistcoat top. “really? you flatter me. aren’t you the bees knees yourself, babe.”

you cringed. hard.

her attempt at 1940 slang was where you drew the line and her shit eating grin didn’t help.

“gwen… dare i say gwendolyn again.”

she smirked. “yes, sugar lips?”

“i hate you.”

gwen was clearly feeling herself

you were too

and trust there was a photoshoot. and trust that it was gwen’s idea even if it was mostly her taking photos of you and her hyping you up crazy

“you’re gonna be the prettiest there babe. nobody can top my girl! not even barbie-”

“don’t be corny with me please…”

you guys decided to watch oppenheimer first and then end on a happy note with barbie

throughout oppenheimer you could see… even FEEL gwen’s eyes staring at the side of your head

she was just making sure you at least enjoyed the movie because it would break her soul if she forced you to watch something you didn’t like

you guys ended up loving it, especially the bomb scene

then you guys watched barbie…

it was a lot of laughing but the moment the movie started taking its turn bro gwen was fighting tears

and at the end of it? BALLING HER EYES OUT

if you are crying you both are just looking at each other in utter shock at the movie but also doing a really poor job at hugging each other

if you aren’t crying your eyes out with her you are comforting her while kinda laughing at her because she thought it was just gonna be some pink glam movie

it wasn’t.

“t-the message… this is so embarrassing i can’t stop crying what the fuck,” she cried into her palms which made her sound really funny as it was muffled by her skin.

you just held her close and you guys talked about the movies

especially like talking about the symbolism in barbie and how it touched on women suffering from the system and standards they are forced to live up to like it really hit gwen especially because the hate she got for how she acted in astv and how nobody was coming at the males that did the same or even worse than her

she sends you tiktok edits of gloria x barbie and says “us❤️”

overall, it was a 10/10 experience y’all went out to eat after in your cute outfits n all

— MILES

you asked him and miles was down IMMEDIATELY

he was another that thought oppenheimer looked good but he didn’t really mention going to the movie with you and the same thing for barbie

miles just thought they was both cool lookin

so you asked him.

“miles, baby, i have a very important question to ask you… one that may very well determine the outcome of this relationship.”

you spoke stern and serious, and almost vague.

"yeah, what's up? something wrong?" miles asks, slightly concerned, running his fingers through his curls and looking up at you.

“will you watch the barbie movie with me?” you pleaded with your hands, “pleaseee!”

miles eyes go wide, a smile spreading across his face.

"yes! i'm so down! i'll even be your ken if you wanna be my barbie. you know i'm a sucker for anything barbie."

you laughed, moving over to sit in his lap. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer. “my ken, huh? i like the idea of that.”

“i mean, what else would i be? i’m here to serve you,” he spoke with a slight blush painted on his cheeks. you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“we should do those matching couple outfits for barbie,” you suggested, “wouldn’t we look so cute?”

"matching outfits?" he asks thoughtfully. "y’know what, i think i know the perfect idea for our couple's look, babe."

miles had this glow to him as you literally saw a light bulb go off in his head.

“oh really, you have an idea?” you questioned, furrowing your brows at the speed of whatever little brain storm was going on in his head. “is it boricua barbie? because not gonna lie, i’d love to see you in a dress.”

"hmm, you wanna see me in a pink, ruffly dress?" miles teases you, smiling at the idea. "why didn't you tell me you were into cute boys in feminine outfits sooner, babe? cus’ i’d dress up for you whenever you want."

“you play too much,” choked out through the giggles as you shoved his shoulder. "hey now, i look amazing in a dress," he laughs. "but i do have an idea that includes both matching barbie costumes and me being your ken, if you're up for it."

miles smiles sweetly at you, his expression turning a little mischievous. “if you have an idea, please do tell,” you said in a sultry voice.

"i want to do what barbie and ken did in that one movie, where ken turns out to actually have superpowers too," miles explains excitedly. "but instead of us being the same superhero, like we both have super strength or super speed, we could be superheroes who complement each other."

you laughed im disbelief. ‘no way’ you thought, knowing exactly what he was thinking of.

he takes your hand, placing the other one on your cheeks and staring deeply into your eyes as he smiles at you. "what do you think?" miles whispers, leaning down toward you.

“you wanna be barbie and ken… from barbie princess power,” you recited slowly, a grin stretching across your face. “of course the one who is a superhero vigilante says this.”

miles' smile widens. "yes, princess power! that's exactly what i was talkin’ about," he says. "and come on, don't underestimate the barbie movies. most of them are really good, dare i say cinematic masterpieces!”

you mouthed an ‘okay’ as you rolled your eyes.

"if i'm your ken, you have to be my barbie," he says, moving his hands onto your waist and moving you up his lap. "the most iconic couple in the barbie universe, right here."

y’all outfits looked so funny but cute… like in a diy that didn’t go wrong typa way

and if you think for a minute mamita rio let y’all go without them facebook mom photos you’re sadly mistaken

"sonríe pa la foto!" rio yelled as the flash coming from her phone was almost blinding.

“mami, por favor-”

miles begging was not gonna get him anywhere with his mom.

“dios mío, you both look so cute,” rio gushed.

“señora morales…you’re too kind!”

miles dad gave you both the typical “y’all better not get into no trouble” parent speech and then you both was off

when i say he was fangirling over the barbie themed cups and popcorn… i mean it

he was taking photos of everything

the whole movie his mouth was wide open in awe

miles was actually so furious at ken he looked absolutely lost and physically upset watching that white piece of plastic run a muck in barbieland

“HE TALKIN’ TO BARBIE LIKE THAT??”

yes, he cried at the end… and at the middle… and a little at the start

at first he was just amazed with the cinematography

but then when they got to the real world? just seeing through the movies lens and it’s take on how modern society treats women based on the parallel barbie world like he felt so unreal

at the end, he was acting like those guys on tiktok that was treating the women in they lives like absolute QUEENS walking out the theater because of the perspective they got watching the movie

not that he didn’t treat you like that before, don’t get him wrong, it’s just that he felt the need like a bunch of other guys after watching the movie to apologizes for the system men have created

it was a little funny, especially because it has nothing to do with him and men doing this type of stuff is a little corny coming from the privilege of the gender, but you appreciated it nonetheless

if you cried during the movie tho? he is bear hugging you crazy and not letting go even after the barbie world credits end

you guys leave the theater holding hands and talking about the film and he is geeking out over all the symbolism and stuff this man watches titanic you know he’s a secret film bro

“i’m so sorry mi amor, that us men have failed our women-”

and there miles went, on a nonstop rant about how you are his queen and how much he loves the women in his life.

you ended up sleeping over at his place

with the door open of course… you know rio is watching.

he had so much fun with you tonight and you could tell by the way he slept with a big smile displayed on his face.

— PAVITR

you asked him and he was happily accepting before you even got the question fully out.

“pav!” you called out from behind him, pulling him in from the neck for a hug. “hey, i wanna ask you something. do you wanna-”

“yes.”

“wait… what? pav i didn’t even say anything yet? what if i’m about to say something completely criminal?” you asked in a teasing tone.

“hehe, yeah maybe i’m a little too excited to see you. what is it, love?”

his eyes looked at you so bright and full of love, it was almost distracting.

“can we go see the barbie movie? we can even wear all pink and match…”

you were gonna say more, but you didn’t have to.

pav was immediately saying yes to everything

until the fear sunk in…

"wait, but I don't have anything pink to wear!" pavitr exclaimed, sounding slightly distressed. "does that mean you won't go with me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and giving you a teasing smile.

he knows you’d never do such a thing.

"you know, i don't usually dress in pink, but for you i'll make an exception!"

you suggested you both go shopping like a little couples date

it was chaotic to say the least… but just as fun !!

he was acting like a model with everything he put on and it got even worse when you let him look at the stuff you were putting on

absolutely whipped.

“my girlfriend is gorgeous! absolutely gorgeous!”

you thanked him again, and again, and again.

“pav, do you think you are india’s next top model? because you are not gaytari,” you teased for him not finding an outfit yet, landing a peck on his cheek as he giggled in response.

"i'II look my best for the movie," he added with a wink. "are you sure you can handle all this style?"

all you could do was roll your eyes.

y’all were almost late to the movie because of bro

but you weren’t.

for the movie he was similar to miles and just in awe

in the beginning he was rooting for ken because he thought he was just being a good service boyfriend

you can imagine pavitr heartbreak when he started talking about the patriarchy

“no, wait- KEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU!”

man is anger sobbing

words cannot describe the physical anger he feels seeing ken talk to barbie in such a manner he was stunned at the switch up

he also loved all of ruth’s parts, thinks she carried the whole movie

was physically leaning backwards at the sad scenes just taking it all in

pavitr LOVED the movie

came out the theater a changed man.

“my amazing, sweetest, most caring girlfriend…the prettiest of all mumbattan,” he spoke as he got down on one leg.

‘oh boy’ you thought, preparing yourself.

“i promise you, i would never ever treat you like how ken did barbie. you are a breathtaking woman and deserve the world-”

there goes another speech.

he walked you home like a true gentleman he smoking that ken pack and y’all talked about your favorite parts

pavitr overall had a really good time with you and enjoyed the message of the movie

— HOBIE

hobie is not and i repeat NOT watching that atomic bomb glorification story

but a movie about the patriarchy and double standard against women that hurts both genders based on the system men built through a satire film that is actually very political and has a message? yeah he’s going

when you told him tho not gonna lie he was gonna clown you

“barbie? like that lil white girl… you sure you wanna go watch that, luv?”

once you told him about the plot and showed him the trailer bro was READY to go

the set up of barbie world being a parallel to modern society was music to his ears

“really? i didn’t really expect allat comin’ from that bird. ight then, i’ll go. now i'm kinda curious.”

yes, he dresses up with you.

hobie is a punk icon… you know gender does not define him and he doesn’t care about breaking the “rules” of fashion of bit

so what does he dress as?

erika from rock n royals barbie.

guitar included.

you? well it’s a couple costume YOU'RE GONNA BE HIS COURTNEY

it’s not like you guys wore an exact replica of the outfits it was just heavily inspired fits

y’all looked cute as hell tho trust

“hobie, i can feel you staring,” you told him as you fixed up your makeup in your mirror.

it was true, you could feel him staring at you. heavy.

you looked to the side of your mirror and indeed saw him eyeing your figure with a soft smirk as he leaned against your bed frame. “what, not allowed to look at my girl now? since when?”

he was teasing and he knew it was making you flustered just by how your face was heating up.

his outfit isn’t too far out of bounds of what we would normally wear, but you couldn’t lie and say that the new colors didn’t fit him. the purple and the blue accents of his outfit, the leather jacket, the black eyeshadow with glitter that he surprisingly let you do, just everything about him looked so good.

hobie walked up behind you and put his hands on your hips, guiding your body closer to his as he watched your hands freeze applying your lip liner.

“don’t stop cus’ of me,” he spoke sheepishly.

you continued and shortly after finished up. his eyes still stared silently at you, admiring your beauty. “looking again, hobie? y’know i hope you pay attention to this movie…”

“i am,” he admitted with no shame, “you’re the prettiest gal i’ve seen. not gonna deny that.”

he pressed a slow, open mouth kiss on your shoulder as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. his breath was warm against your chilled skin.

“shall we get goin’ now?”

he payed attention to the movie but he couldn’t help wrapping a arm around your shoulder and making little comments in your ear

hobie got quiet tho towards the middle because he genuinely got invested once her feet turned flat and barbie met the ceo

but once the movie started getting deep… BOYY the look on this mans face he was stunned, appalled, baffled, gobsmacked even at ken

and then the speech about women? lawd.

he didn’t cry at all during the final sequence and if anything i think he was confused…

“wait that’s the lady from before that was makin tea, innit?”

“yes hobie.”

“holdup, where the granny go? what’s with the white void?”

“HOBIE-”

don’t get it twisted tho he understood the film and thought it was beautifully done

y’all talked about all the topics afterwards and let’s just say bro hates kens and is angry that nobody told them shit

“are they mad? they must be cus’ no way after everything that happened they just gon forgive the man for being a raging misogynist… they had the girls wearing maid costumes and not one apology was heard man that’s insane!”

hobie smoking that ken pack

he enjoyed the movie but what made him enjoy it was doing it with you <33

— MIGUEL

you know you had to ask him.

bro was not considering anything that would take him away from his work or distract him because he feels he doesn’t have time for that

and the crazy thing is that miguel knows about the hype about the movie and the whole barbie core pink mania

but of course he gonna act like he don’t and got better things to do.

“do you wanna see the barbie movie with me?”

those the words that stopped the gears turning in his head.

“excuse me?” miguel asked, looking up from his report with furrowed brows as his forehead already began to crease.

you wanted to dwell on the fact that he is getting annoyed before you even got to explain yourself, but you pushed it to the back of your mind. no, you couldn’t let him get push you away this time.

“you heard me, miguel. c’mon, the movie with margot robbie! and did i mention barbie? one of the most popular dolls? don’t act stupid,” you told him, walking over and wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him close from behind as he sat. “you don’t think it would be fun?”

he pinches the bridge of his nose, knowing what you’re about to get him into.

“mi vida…” you hear him sigh, quietly in almost a cut-it-out type of tone. he moves his head to the side and you can practically feel the confusion behind the glare. “you’re joking.”

you move one of your hands to your heart. “miguel!” you gasped playful, “this is a serious matter. why would i even joke about watching a movie with you?”

“because there's no way you're being serious. you don't go looking for me to see a barbie movie. especially one you know i'll refuse,” he replies, his voice stern.

“but-”

"Is this some sort of elaborate humiliation attempt?"

“NO!”

"... you're serious, aren't you? what's in it for me? i mean, it's a barbie movie."

you explain to him the premise and he still acts like this whole thing is stupid and you have no business trying to see this movie with him

but he can’t lie, he’s intrigued.

he kinda wants to see it.

and he’s trying his best to hide it.

"okay… what time?" he asked, defeated.

“really, my begging actually worked? thank god because i already brought two tickets and it would’ve been sad showing up alone,” you confessed.

“you bought them? already?” he repeated, caught off guard by how ready you were. “and what time are they for?"

“7:30.”

“fine, fine. but i'm holding you to your word. If it turns out this is some kind of elaborate scheme, you'll be hearing about it."

he’s so suspicious for no reason

now when it came to outfits… yeah you know miguel owns no pink whatsoever

you didn’t even know he knew about the pink craze or even wanted to play into it until he let it slip

"what am i supposed to wear then? i don't own anything pink.”

“it’s fine we’ll go shoppin- wait who said anything about pink outfits to you?”

you started making fun of him but then he threatened to take back saying he was going with you and told you that you’d be sitting in a theater all by yourself

but then you brought up again how he was ready to wear pink for you and he had a little slip up

"n-no? i mean, I could… if i’m gonna go see this thing with you and it your way, might as well commit right?”

his facade was slipping, this was golden. “so you will wear pink?”

the mischievous look on your face made him annoyed but he knew what he was getting into.

“i said i could, not that i’m going to. don’t get your hopes up chiquita."

he did end up wearing pink

little said he know you were plotting something against him

it started off nice… simple.

it was white pants with a pink button up

you told him for a “pop of color” he should wear a green blazer

sound familiar? because you were planning a scheme YOU DRESSED HIM AS SUGAR DADDY KEN

it was for shits and giggles

he had no idea until it was all paid for and safe to tell him before miguel made you fix his outfit

he’s ore than a little surprised, and not really sure how to react. miguel takes a look at the outfit, and does his best to try and hold back a chuckle.

"this... is a joke. there's no way you're serious about me wearing this, is there?”

“put. it. on.”

he does a low sighs and take the outfit from you. "fine, only because it's you."

it didn’t take him long to finish in the changing room, and when he stepped out you were enchanted by the sight.

“happy?”

yes. indeed you were very happy.

he was paying for everything of course like the sugar daddy he doesn’t know he is

he had his arms crossed, sat down legs spread, watching you change into different pink outfits and rating telling you how he thought you looked

you’d do little spins for miguel

“muy bella.” “you look gorgeous.” “i like that one, fits you nicely.”

you ended up leaving and going to the movie and while on your way there decided to tell him about his little outfit.

“you wanna know a secret, miggy?” you ask him with a grin.

he raises a brown at you, “i feel like you're gonna tell me regardless, so i'm gonna say yes.”

you say nothing, you just pull up a photo of sugar daddy ken and show it to him.

as his eyes flicker to the screen, you see the light amusement fade away from his expression as it turns to one of genuine confusion and horror. miguel’s hand moves subconsciously to the green blazer, as the fear sets in that he recognizes exactly what the outfit is referring to. “you didn’t…”

“but i did.”

“you. you are a bad person.”

truth be told, he really liked the movie

miguel just really liked the message like it made it him think of all the women that were and are in his life like you and all the other girls he’s wronged before you iykyk

but it also made him sad because it reminded him of gabriella

just thinking about all the muñequitas she use to play with before it happens

all the dress up games they use to play, when he pretended to be whatever doll he picked for her to play pretend scenarios with her dream house

it also made him sad to think of the strong, independent woman she wouldn’t become if it wasn’t for him

he didn’t tear up, no not at all.

but by the empty look on his face you could tell just how he was feeling

you put a hand over his as the audience laughed at the screen. “miguel, you okay? you know we can leave if that’s what you want.”

he just turned, put his hand over yours and gave it a squeeze. “no, no… i’m fine. don't worry.”

you guys had a good time and you swore you could see a small smile stretch across his face during some moments

he genuinely wanted to talk about the movie with you for hours but the man does have to sleep at some point

“hey, i just wanted to thank you for uh… convincing me to see a barbie movie. yeah, it sounded ridiculous and thought you were trying to find some way to mess with me for my attention. but, i really did enjoy spending time with you. just felt compelled to tell you that is all.”

miguel holds his heavy responsibility of the universe on his shoulders and is filled with grief

he doesn’t do this with the intent to tell people how to live their lives, but to try and protect what he couldn’t

so yeah, he’s glad you could give him some relief from the day

A/N: hey guys… i feel it’s been a minute but this took so long and it’s my first time writing for all of them beside gwen so im scared it’s gonna sound like shit so ??? i hope y’all enjoyed tho 🫶 BARBIE WAS SO GOOD

840 notes · View notes

greenandsorrow · 9 months

Text

"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 2

"his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room"

~wildest dreams, taylor swift ~

Y/n's pov:

Y/n wakes up in the morning, feeling groggy and disoriented.

No one can find out about the encounter she had last night with her Ken doll. (Not that anyone would believe her if she were to tell them!) Still, she certainly wants to keep Ken's access to the real world secret from her father, because his company's policy is to put the dolls in boxes and send them back to Barbieland once and for all.

''Her Ken doll'' sounds wrong. It sounds wrong because Ken had looked like more than just a pretty object. The previous night, she realises, she met a real man, with real feelings and real desires (as oblivious as he had looked). She almost makes herself blush thinking about their small make-out session. Y/n can't deny just how attracted she's to Ken, he's meant to be perfect lookin' after all. But his character had managed to shine through as well, energetic and enthusiastic, but also emotional and in need of constant reassurance. "If that doesn't make him real, I don't know what does."

"Does that all mean that I want to see him again? He's probably not coming back, I literally kicked him out like a dog..."

These are some of the thoughts that preoccupy her mind as she's showering, having breakfast and as she's getting ready. What pulls her out of it, is in fact, Ken.

As soon as she opens the door of her apartment y/n steps on something and looking down she spots...her old Ken doll, the one she accidentally put in her backpack yesterday (also the one she still has to repay for years of ignorance, the one that kissed her with a need and held her with a desperation that made her knees all wobbly). However, right now he isn't a six foot tall man, but a plastic toy y/n is once more putting in her backpack.

Ken's pov:

Ken wakes up to the sound of someone calling his name. To his distaste, that someone is not sweet y/n but Barbie. He has to get up for another "perfect" day at the beach.

It takes great effort to go through his everyday tasks (greeting Barbie, smiling at Barbie, complimenting Barbie), especially when the only thing he can focus on is the memory of the moments he shared with y/n. He thinks of consulting Weird Barbie, but he changes his mind as quickly as he made it up.

Throughout his day, Ken is trying to only think about how y/n's plush lips fitted perfectly, locked flawlessly against his own, about her fiery gaze, a gaze that was directed to him (maybe even caused by him). At the same time, he's doing everything within his power to keep out of his mind the dryness of her last words. She had asked him to leave. Did that mean that y/n didn't want him as a boyfriend?

Something is changing inside him, he can feel it. He wants to meet y/n again, prove her he's worthy of her attention. She had made him sweat just with her closeness, she had made him shiver merely by using her hands (small, delicate hands in comparison to his big, manly ones) and she had also made him gasp when she had deepened their kisses.

Ken is determined to return the favour, though he's not entirely sure how. He's feeling the primal need to hear her repeat his name over and over, while... what?

Ken's shorts continue to bother him all the while he's making these thoughts. And so they were bothering him last night.

Both y/n's and Ken's day goes on and on, seemingly endless. They're both feeling an intense sense of restlessness. The Barbies are often catching Ken zoning out with a starstruck expression clouding his blue gaze, while y/n's mind is constantly putting together the dirtiest of fantasies instead of paying any attention to her classes.

But there's also an underlying question they both try to push away. Can this happen again? Can Ken just wake up in the real world like it's no big deal? And even if it does happen tonight, what are they to do?

Y/n's pov:

Y/n returns to her apartment at 22:30. She's exhausted, but has to admit her first day as a university student wasn't that bad. Y/n met a group of three other first-years that seemed like nice company. They had actually just had a group study session at the library.

As soon as she locks the door behind her, y/n opens her backpack, taking out Ken and gently placing him on her small couch. She then proceeds to have a hot, refreshing shower before ordering pizza or something for dinner (her mom would be rather disappointed).

Ken's pov:

"Good evening Barbie!" he calls for the seventeenth time (that's how many Barbie dolls y/n is in possession of).

Ken is finally free of all his duties. He can't help but let out a giggle at the thought of meeting y/n again. But when the giggle leaves his mouth, he isn't smiling. He can't be sure whether y/n liked men that giggled. He craved for this adorable, sweet human to see him as a man, the way she probably saw the men he noticed on some of the posters that were decorating her bedroom.

With a great deal of effort and patience, Ken was able to fall asleep, while wishing with every fiber of his being he would wake up somewhere close to his dear, fingers crossed.

"Ken...Ken hun, wake up"

"Hmm, y/n..." The way he pronounced her name in his half asleep and half awake state, caused one of y/n's giggles to surface. Of course Ken fully wakes up at the sound of such a clear, angelic sound.

"It's good to see you beautiful" he tells her in a too casual short of way, in order to mask his uncontainable joy (and pride) that he made it back to her.

Ken then yawns, a satisfied grin spreading on his face as he's standing up from the couch, looking down at y/n. Y/h has just come out of the shower and she's currently wearing nothing but an oversized tee and a pair of comfy panties with a matching bra hidden underneath.

Y/n's eyes widen momentarily, making Ken feel suddenly self conscious about his behaviour.

"So you're not angry at me?!"

"What-

why would I ever be angry at you, y/n?"

He definitely isn't the epitome of intelligence.

"You wanna sit?", she asks motioning to the couch. And so they sit in awkward silence.

Ken has never felt so nervous in his entire existence. Before going to sleep, he had come up with the perfect plan so that y/n would let him stay with her instead of tossing him out again. He was supposed to ask her to have a pyjama party with him, but now that they're sitting next to each other, arms and calves touching, the only thing he can focus on is his sweaty palms.

"You're really handsome you know", y/n mutters and she immediately regrets it, blushing.

On the other hand, Ken, who had never been called "handsome" before, physically feels his chest swelling up with pride.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." (yesyesyes she thinks he's handsome)

"Of course you do...

I just wanted to say, about last night, I can't stop thinking about it Ken, and I can't stop thinking about you either. I know that in the past I failed to treat you... in a decent enough way?? but I want to try again."

For a while Ken doesn't speak, not because he didn't like what he heard, but because he's taking it all in. He is in awe that y/n deems him important enough to have a place in her mind for him -hopefully in her heart as well- (Ken is very sentimental about that stuff).

"I had never done anything like last night y/n. That doesn't mean it was bad! It felt...good actually... and- and I've been thinking..."

That must be the hardest thing Ken has ever done. But the sincere and kind way y/n is looking at him gives him strength to continue.

"...now that we are boyfriend and girlfriend, we should have a sleepover."

"We are what?!"

"I thought we-"

Ken can't go on as he's once again aware of the heavy weight settling in his chest, making him cast his gaze downward, but y/n, remembering the way things work back in Barbieland, understands the meaning behind Ken's words.

"I didn't mean for it to sound like that sweetheart. I guess, I can't believe it, that's all. I just am too excited to be your girlfriend!"

And she's speaking the truth. She just has to explain, or better, show Ken, how girlfriends and boyfriends' sleepovers work in the real world.

She reaches for his hand, giving it a squeeze and their eyes meet. Ken is wearing the biggest, most smug and boyish smile, making y/n smile too in return.

Ken is very pleased with the way things have worked out so far. Y/n is *his girlfriend*. Y/n is *his human* and that makes him the luckiest Ken ever created.

"So, are we gonna have that sleepover?"

"Sure! It starts now!", y/n says with a genuine excitement that makes her y/e/c eyes sparkle. At that moment she forgets about ordering dinner, about the consequences of her actions, Mattel and her father. She's determined to spend the night with her new special boyfriend, no questions asked.

And so they spend a good two hours talking about anything and everything. While y/n is showering Ken with questions about Barbieland and her favourite childhood companions, the Barbies (Ken has no problem answering, he loves how y/n seems to hang on every word he says), the blonde man also has some questions for his human. (he has to know; does she like the beach?)

But, as their silly conversation goes on, Ken (and y/n, she's just hiding it better) finds himself staring at her lips. This time, they're glossy (she had applied lip balm after her shower). His mouth is practically watering and his chest is beginning to heave.

"Ken are you okay sweetheart?" y/n asks him in her most innocent voice, placing a hand on his (thick) thigh and she swears she felt the muscles there tensing involuntarily under her palm.

"Can you-

can we do it again?"

"Honey, please be more specific", she almost feels bad, teasing him like that (and he has seen nothing yet).

"Sorry y/n (he does get butterflies from all the petnames). I meant, like yesterday."

He places a hand on her arm, gripping it slightly. Y/n is smiling at herself, he's so eager.

"You remember yesterday? We kissed, but...like a lot...Let's do it again."

His voice while uttering the last sentence sounded grave but Ken is needy, too needy to hide the impatience in his eyes.

Without another word, y/n's hands search for and find a place at Ken's platinum blonde hair and then she places herself on his lap, before he even manages to register what is happening. Out of reflex, his own hands are on her waist in no time, so as to prevent her from losing her balance.

Tonight, the kisses that they share are rougher, lips getting swollen and reddish fast.

In a moment of bravery from Ken's side, he fights for dominance with his tongue, wins it, causing y/n to moan in his mouth. The vibration of her trembling moan travels all the way to his core, resulting in him to shiver.

Soon after that, y/n breaks the kiss, desperate for oxygen. Ken whines pathetically at the loss of contact. He looks so hot like this. His bare chest is covered in sweat, his expression is almost adorable as he tries to slow down his breathing, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his forehead.

When y/n leans in for a second round, she's hungry, tasting Ken again and again, until she notices he has begun to shift beneath her, in a very uncomfortable short of way. His breaths have also become more shallow and quick.

Concluding Ken has zero knowledge regarding the human body is easy for y/n, but that doesn't stop her from taking off her t-shirt, throwing it behind the sofa. Ken's blush deepens but he's unable to take his gaze off y/n's full breasts, roundness enhanced by the bra she has on. His hands are roaming her back, nails emitting shudders and mewls out of her.

Y/n on top of him, glistering with sweat and holding on to him by flatting her palms on his chest (she can feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips), so small in his arms, so light, makes him whimper with need and buck his hips against her, well, core.

He groans loudly.

How is it possible? Ken looks so irritated and troubled because of his growing erection.

Can this mean he never had one before, while living in Barbieland?

Y/n attempts to readjust her position on his lap, but the firm grip on her hips is preventing her from moving. Ken looks deeply into her eyes, pupils blown.

"Y/n...wait...just wait a min-

a- ah, something is happening to me."

Now he's a panting mess, wearing a concerned expression, that quickly turns into embarrassment when y/n explains to him that it's all normal and no, nothing is wrong with him.

"But why is it growing and it hurts too!!", the whines that escape his mouth are only making y/n wetter by the minute.

She cups his face in both hands, calming him down, before helping him out of his flannel. Y/n then gets off him, planting her knees in the carpet in front of the couch. Ken immediately averts his gaze away from her, preferring to look at the ceiling.

"Ken, please lift your hips for me" Ken is hesitant, hesitant to be seen completely naked in front of y/n, but he trusts her.

Y/n manages to get him out of his beach shorts and underwear, his already too hard cock springing free, accompanied by a breathy moan coming from Ken.

Y/n almost gasps at the sight of it. He's a doll, he's literally perfect, even his member. To be honest, y/n had never given a blowjob in her life, but she had collected enough information on how to do it and right now she wants nothing more than to please Ken.

"Y/n, love, what is happening...mmfff"

Ken moans as his beloved girlfriend starts to kitten lick his tip, dripping with precum. His face is as red as a tomato and he's doing his best at trying to hide it behind the cushions.

Y/n steals glimpses of him through her lasses as she raps her soft lips around his thickness, holding the base of his now throbbing cock with one hand. Ken's head is laying on the back of the sofa, his Adam's apple visible, bobbing up and down with each sound that leaves his mouth.

Ken almost cries at the feeling, bringing a hand to muffle a series of moans he really isn't proud of. But he can't help it, he's too overwhelmed by the sensation of y/n's tongue swirling around his tip and then massaging his balls with her hand.

And when y/n finally stops teasing him, only to start bobbing her head up and down, Ken audibly gulps before fisting a handful of her hair.

She monetarily takes him out of her mouth with a loud pop. She's now caressing his thighs, throwing praises his way, in hopes he'll stop acting so shameful.

"Babe the sounds you make are driving me insane. You are so big, you are being so good Ken." At the sound of all those praises his dick gets impossibly harder, twitching with want. Y/n is entranced by the way his tip's color has darkened and it's literally pulsating.

Ken's hips have also started trembling, indicating he's super close. Y/n decides to use her tongue on him for a little longer, satisfied when she notices his white knuckles and protruding veins as he's gripping the pillows around him for dear life.

But when she feels him about to explode, she takes him in her hand, giving him a few pumps. Ken is soon whimpering and squirming under her touch, calling her name over and over like a prayer. He comes hard all over y/n's hand and his stomach.

When sure that he's emptied, y/n kisses his knee, then the insides of his thighs, all the way up to his neck and lips. Ken accepts the kiss, melting into y/n's warmth like always. He's still panting when he gives her the heartiest embrace, inhaling the sweet smell of her hair and whispering"I love you" so quietly y/n barely hears it.

After y/n takes the time to explain to Ken some basic human biology stuff, she brings a wet towel from the bathroom, cleaning the mess they made on his stomach and thighs. Ken is looking at her with a newfound adoration and he's thanking her for making him feel so good 'till they fall asleep at her bed, together, cuddled up.

notes~~

So, this was part 2 of my Ken fic! Definitely more spicy than the first one. It's not meant to be perfect, but I'm trying to make it somehow cohesive. Also, I did think this was going to turn out just a straightforward smut, but I'm ending up adding some emotion to it too.

Dividers by; @cafekitsune

my masterlist

TIPS; CLICK HERE(PayPal link)

Tags; @notleclerc @hope4rain19

1K notes · View notes

inkdrinkerworld · 9 months

Note

Can we talk about how James would come out of the Barbie movie SOBBING HIS POOR EYES OUT!!!! He would feel awful and be treating reader with literally everything (e.g buying dinner, giving her a massage, literally everything) I can't stop thinking abt this D:

(Also holy fuck you are so talented your writing is imacculate <3)

thank you angel <3 he so would!! barbie spoilers!!

james doesn't treat you badly before you see the movie. james adores the ground you walk on; but after seeing the movie, james feels like he could be doing more.

he'd cried almost as much as you did and by the time the end credits roll, he's holding back sobs.

"angel," he says sadly and you lean your head on his shoulder. "that broke my heart."

you giggle wetly, "broke my heart too."

james links his fingers with yours, swinging your hands as he leads you to the car.

"wanna go have dinner?" he asks, kissing your knuckles as he pulls out of the parking lot.

"jamie we ate before leaving home," you say and james shrugs. you can tell something is bothering him though, his tone is weird.

"wanna treat you, and you need the fluids after crying your eyes out." you relent and james drives the hour it takes to get to your favourite place.

"james we could've gotten somewhere closer," james shakes his head, opening your door like he usually does.

"no, wanna treat you angel." there goes his tone, ratting him out.

"jamie, you know you're nothing like the kens that overthrew barbieland, right?"

james freezes in pushing open the door for you. "i know, but it bothers me. that they get away with so much."

you kiss his cheek, and then his jaw. "you're much more like allan, and then you'e made your own type of ken with your doting and your compliments. euphemia has all my praises."

james chuckles then, hand to the small of your back as you walk through the restaurant.

"so i can spoil you even more, now?" he asks as he pulls out your seat.

"not more, just the same amount." you try for a threatening tone, but james is looking at you with pure adoration in his eyes and his smile is so warm that it comes out more like a wet paper threat.

"for now," james says just before a waiter comes to take your orders- james rattling off your favourite and then his; all while keeping his eyes on you.

#jamespotter #james potter #james potter fanfiction #james potter one shot #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter blurb #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter x black!reader #james potter x you #james potter x yn #james potter fic

603 notes · View notes

genericpuff · 4 months

Text

the last few episodes of persephone moping around have felt like less of a self-reflective moment for her to grow and change and more rachel griping about criticism and surrounding herself with yes men

this isn't gonna be in any way a formal essay like my usual sort, more of a slam post honestly, so fair warning that i'm gonna be a little salty here

EPISODE 263 SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!

but seriously, it's been a pity party of greek proportions because this constant "woe is me" shit with persephone that's constantly met with "no queeen you're amazing and perfect" has been going on for DAYS (real time and comic time)

literally every episode since the comic returned has had some segment of either persephone or hades (or both) being upsetti spaghetti over their current situation because oh nooo persephone made the deal with erebus and had to sacrifice something. even though they both knew that was gonna happen and yet she did it anyways. so she just continues to lock herself away in her mansion and spout adorkable quips while her husband, mother, and colleagues deal with the mess she caused.

and of course there's the constant inclusion of apollo spitting straight facts about persephone being a terrible queen and person, but of course because it's apollo saying it, it's not meant to be taken as gospel, essentially clapping back at the words of the critics who call out persephone for being a shitty and toxic protagonist by putting those words into the mouth of a literal rapist.

and yeah episode 263 had a lot of the same shit, to the point that you could literally swap out the names of the characters and the words they were speaking and it applies exactly to rachel and the corner she put herself in u.u it's been a thing for a while now that apollo has just felt like a mouthpiece for LO criticism but as mentioned by users within the subreddit during the discussion of this newest episode, it's never felt more apparent than now.

so yeah enjoy this satirical text edit of a sequence from the newest FP episode, which I honestly can't tell is meant to satirize the critical community or Rachel's reactions to the critical community because the weird reality this comic and its community exist in has just become that wack that it's hard to believe it's not directly from The Onion sometimes LMAO

-and as much as i find myself empathizing with the pressure that rachel is surely under right now - no one should have to be subject to the screeching howls of the peanut gallery - i can't help but be reminded of the memes and tweets she's put out that basically outright say "persephone is supposed to be celebrated for being a shitty person, if you can't handle her at her worst you don't deserve her at her best 💅"-

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rachel Smythe (@usedbandaid)

instagram

-and how often she's ruined her own day looking for critical groups or people with the "wrong opinions" that were minding their own business, or how much she's stifled her own community's attempts to discuss the story openly by having her mods ban anyone with even so much as a question regarding persephone's integrity.

so yeah, as much as i can empathize with her from one creator to another that being under this amount of pressure and scrutiny must be immensely frustrating and exhausting, beyond that one similarity i just can't empathize or relate to this mindset of almost learned helplessness that's taken a firm grip over her writing. this is the story she wants to tell and by all means no one is entitled to make her stop, but if she's gonna keep using her greek myth "retelling" comic that's trying to be "feminist" as a mouthpiece for her own griping over criticisms that are largely on-point and justified - to the point of putting the words of her critics into the mouth of her token villain like she's playing some single player barbie doll "act out that fight that sounded cooler in your head" game - then she's gonna keep getting called out, full stop. i figured she didn't have any nose left to rip off in spite of her face but apparently not.

look, i get it, there are some opinions and behaviors within the critical community that even i'm not on board with. there are people who absolutely take shit too far on both sides of the fandom, and i think both sides need to do more to hold themselves accountable for how they interact with each other, the comic, and rachel herself. i make it a point to keep my shit in my own house, i'm not entitled to rachel's attention and frankly it's the last thing i want because i have a lot of fun here and i don't want that to be potentially ruined or dampened! but if you come into my house and complain about the decorating, then i legitimately don't know what to tell you. i used to love LO and i'm so sad for my past self knowing fully well they're not gonna be able to wholeheartedly enjoy this comic forever due to how manipulative and shitty the storytelling has become. a story that i once connected to as an AFAB who was a victim of assault and abuse and generational trauma.

if persephone being the true main villain in her own story was ever meant to be the point of Lore Olympus, then it's taken way, way too long to get to that point, and rachel herself definitely doesn't seem to be of the mindset that that's what she's become with all of her blasé meme'ing on a plot arc that she's still expecting us to take seriously. persephone was never a very complex character to begin with - being an easy self-insert for the audience and rachel to project themselves onto and relate to - but at least in the beginning she felt like she had so much legitimate potential, she was naive but put her best foot forward and clearly wanted to make a life for herself, made by herself.

now she's just mean. jaded and mean. dependent on the constant validation of others to the point of being manipulative. an absolute shell of a person who can only grow a spine when she's punching down on people weaker than her, completely incapable of standing up to the people who are a legitimate threat to her. it's not empowering, it's not subversive, it's just another pick me story about women pitting themselves against other women and never taking accountability for their own behavior, mistakes, and deliberate actions meant to hurt others, often teetering on the line of straight up narcissism all for the sake of a "boss babe" moment.

anyways, if you want an actual well-written and GOOD scene of an empathetic female protagonist struggling to find their footing in adulthood being called the fuck out for their learned helplessness behavior, go read Tamberlane, it tackles this topic much better through its main character who keeps using her brokenness as an excuse to never do better, it slaps and it's so real.

#the only thing i could possibly enjoy from these episodes is minthe coming forward #and leuce #and tori #other than that they're just a bunch of nothing #no plot #no yeehaw #just boohoo #and not even in the good way where you know the 'boohoo' is gonna lead to some good yeehaw #the shitty and toxic way where the 'boohoo' is a personality trait that everyone else has to bend themselves around #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #Instagram

186 notes · View notes

venuscnjunctpluto · 1 year

Text

Astro pt. 6

Credits: @venuscnjunctpluto

*A lot of sex workers have cap + Gemini energy in their charts. I think the cap makes them money driven and the Gemini gives them a carefree attitude towards sex.

*multiple women on 90 day fiancé have Virgo and cap placements. (darcey, anfisa . Chantel has a Virgo moon and mercury. Anfisa and Darcey (+ her twin sister) have cap moons and Virgo venuses. All of the women mentioned were somewhat stuck up and gave off Barbie energy. But once you watch them they were pretty chill some what lol

*Ik a guy w mars square Uranus who’s a stunt performer and Lewis Hamilton (the hot race car driver) has this aspect as well. They are the definition of dare devils.

*If you’re attracted to men look at your mars for the type you go for. If fire you’ll really like fire or air sun men (also include signs that square or opposite your mars) if water you’ll really like water or earth sun men (also squares/oppositions) for example as a sag mars I really like fire and air sign men but also Pisces and Virgo men too. Also the house it’s in can play a role mine is in the 8th so Scorpio suns can get it too.

*Mutable placements are theeeee funniest sorry not sorry

*I love mars-Chiron men they’re so gentle and comforting. Venus-Chiron men can also attract women w prominent Chiron aspects. I have Chiron conjunct MC and my mercury plus it squares my moon all tight orbs. They have a hard time in society bc they’re usually not aggressively masculine like society wants them to be. And they’ll attract women have their own wounds they need to work through so relationships can be hard. “Call out my name” by The Weeknd would be a good representation of them.

*I feel bad for Pluto in 7th their partners will try to change them and feel comfortable criticizing them.

*Someone pointed out Selena Gomez has three men who write songs about her The Weeknd, Justin, and Charlie puth. I want to point out she has mars-Pluto so like I said previously she attracts men with Scorpio influence *coughs* passionate and obsessive. The weeknd is a Scorpio moon w moon conjunct Pluto. Charlie is also a Scorpio moon and Justin is a Scorpio rising.

*She also has Venus conjunct chiron which is so sad bc it makes sense why she sung “the heart wants what it wants” Venus-Chiron can go through a lot of intense heartbreak that they end up channeling into music.

*Honestly I don’t think Hailey is necessarily obsessed w Selena I think she’s obsessed with Justin and she’s his ex. Taurus moons will stalk their significant others ex and constantly try to find evidence of them stepping out. They are beyond possessive.

*It’s also weird to me how many sag placement women can be bullies. Idk maybe the Jupiter influence exaggerates their ego (sun) or their aggression (mars) but all the bullies at my hs had sag placements. My 8th house stellium and Lilith made me bullied if anything.

*Rob Lowes son has Sun in 1st and they have similar mannerisms and can bounce off of eachother well in their Netflix show

*When a man’s mars conjuncts a woman’s sun…she’s the one who’s going to humble him. A guy Ik said an aqua girl was the only one who matched his toxicity and he’s an aqua mars. When reversed (man’s sun conjunct a woman’s mars) he’ll be her ideal type of man.

*Having Plutonian energy as a woman is really hard the older I get the harder it is to make genuine friends. I’m watching this girl who I’ve been talking with in class causally start dressing like me. I’ve also had friends try to copy my hair, how I talk, and my style. It seems stupid but it makes me uncomfortable.

*Sagittarius suns and Taurus suns get into the worst arguments😭

*Libra rising men 🤝 oversized shirts

*Libra mars women🤝 bending their back in pictures to show off their butts

*Capricorn moons are so harsh it’s actually funny

*capricorn placement men and their side hustles. My cousin is a cap rising and this cap sun guy both starting fixing iPhone screens on the side.

*Stormy Daniels has many 3rd house placements and from watching her interviews she’s really sharp. She also has a talent in communication as she was the editor of her highschool newspaper.

#astro notes #astro observations

467 notes · View notes

reveluving · 9 months

Note

Simu!Ken thought— he beaches off for you after one of the Kens or Barbies makes a mean comment about you. And ofc he wins

a/n: HAHAAAAA anon, your mind!! 😭🤌🏻 I decided to make this with both (mean) Ken and Barbie, and did my own lil 'thing' here ;))) thanks, sweetie!! (open to be read as Ryan!Ken, as usual!)

warnings: fluff! (+ teaching meanies a lesson & strong language!)

» fancy reading something new? check out my full m.list!

It's one thing to genuinely get on Ken's bad side, but it's another if the rest of the Barbieland follow suit.

Mean Barbie and Ken simultaneously arrived months after your Ken’s departure to find you, becoming the talk of the town in an instant. Though, 90% of the time, it was all for the wrong reasons.

Mean Barbie was demeaning, having a keen interest in insulting others for their interests and even their appearances. Mean Ken was no better, laughing in the Kens' face and Alan for liking anything that was, in his words, 'too girlish'.

Basically, they weren’t the best people to vibe with.

While both Weird Barbie and President Barbie tried their best to be civil with the two, the former was more vocal about her distaste, always giving them the stink eye as though she knew their words only went in one ear and out the other. President Barbie was more subtle, though she made sure to drop reminders about their actions here and there.

So when the mean match overheard the cheers and excitement over the infamous Ken coming back for a visit with his sweetheart, oh, they were not having it.

But soon, they were going to learn that their actions would, in fact, have consequences.

'Cause as the human saying goes; the more you fuck around, the more you find out.

President Barbie was there to greet you and Ken at the entrance, giving you a motherly hug before giving you a heads up and whispering in your ear about the notorious duo.

Though their behaviour wasn't nearly as bad as what you're used to in the real world, it didn't make them any less unpleasant to be around. Kudos to the Barbies and Kens (+ Midge & Allan!) for trying their best not to leave you alone with the two of them, though!

And it only took your Ken two days to do everyone a favour.

"Hoo, boy, here we go." Mean Ken scoffed at the sight of your Ken excitedly telling you about the surfboard he oftentimes used back when his whole purpose was to be Ken, "That was the cool guy around here?"

"Right? And I just don't see what's so special about her." His girl sneered.

"Tell me about it. Should've stayed where she came from like she was supposed to."

The rest of the Barbies and Kens froze up. They gave Pompadour Ken a quick glance, who was now uncharacteristically quiet.

Oh no.

Who were they to insult you for being you?

You've also noticed the two literally talking crap about you, though you were more concerned about Ken.

"Ken," You gently stroked his face, hoping it'll ease the sudden tension in his jaw, "Hey, don't listen to them."

"Hey, pal!" Mean Ken called out to him, "Wanna show us your lil' beach moves? Maybe tell us what's so special about your girl?"

Ken didn't speak up. He has millions of reasons why you were extremely special to him, but he learnt from you that losing his cool would be a total win for his opposition.

But the mean twins didn't take being ignored too kindly.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" He barked, pushing your Ken. He nearly lost his balance, almost hitting you with the surfboard he was holding.

It wasn't long before Ken finally lost his cool, swinging the surfboard square in Mean Ken's face. He flew away at an immense height and questionable physics, falling on his back just by the sea.

Some laughed, others cheered. By now, everyone was watching, even Mermaid Barbie and Ken showed up after hearing about a possible showdown on the Malibu Beach. They shook their heads the way disapproving parents would before waving at you, happy to see a nicer face in town.

"Oh my gosh, Ken!" Mean Barbie squawked, running to her man and shaking his unconscious body a little too aggressively, "What did you do?!"

"I just gave him what he deserved." Your Ken shrugged, running his fingers through his hair that had messed up when he lost his cool.

"You didn't have to like, punch him!"

"It was gonna happen eventually," Alan murmured to himself, only to earn sounds and nods of approval from the rest of the Kens and Barbies. Even if Pompadour Ken wasn't the one putting them in their place, someone would've.

Sure, maybe a dance-off would've been sufficient.

Buuut, then again, it was probably the real-world air that he's been breathing in for so long, so it was only a matter of time before his patience snapped, and it did when they started running their mouths about you.

After all, Mean Ken preferred 'manlier' efforts.

"You're in huge trouble, weirdo!" She hissed, believing your Ken's (necessary) violence could easily banish you two from Barbieland.

"And what're you gonna do about it?" It was your turn to challenge her, standing closer to her with your arms crossed. You weren't just going to stand there and let her spit venom at your boyfriend, much less at your new friends.

Just a reminder that your hands were rated E for everyone.

"I'll… I'll…! I'll tell Psycho Barbie!"

"That won't be necessary." Everyone's heads turned to the side to see Weird Barbie approaching, boots off as she walked on the sandy floor with a delighted smirk on her face, "And that's Weird Barbie to you, missy."

She turned to Pompadour Ken, patting him on the shoulder with a grin, "Good job, kid. Didn't think you had it in you but it's probably that wild human air," She then turned to you with a wink, "You got quite the keeper."

Ken mirrored her proud smile.

"A little help, doc?" She nodded at Doctor Barbie, who immediately rushed to her side. Weird Barbie pointed behind her with her thumb, "Give that guy a quick scan before the President gets here, will ya?"

Weird Barbie was no doubt beyond excited to report the two, and with tons of eyes as witnesses.

"Hey," Your Ken placed his hand on the small of your back, "I'm sorry about that. You wanna head home or…?"

Ken was less than pleased by the thought of the day being ruined but he'd understand if it had because of the mere presence of the two. Some may call him dramatic, but to you, he was just making sure of your comfort.

"No, no," You shook your head, resting your head on his chest, "I'm okay."

The groans and whines of Mean Ken and Barbie respectively as President Barbie berated their actions were just bonuses to the feeling of you against him. Softening him up from what had happened prior like kneading dough ever so gently.

"I recall a certain someone promising to play his guitar around a campfire for me?" You teased him, hoping to lift his spirits.

"I did, didn't I?" He hummed, grabbing his guitar bag that lay on the beach chair before wrapping his other arm around you, "C'mon, I know the perfect place."

He brought you to the spot furthest from the 'busy zone', though that didn't stop his friends from dropping stuff like a blanket, sausages and marshmallows to roast as a thank you for his service.

All in all, the night ended on a much higher note, with your boyfriend serenading you with romantic and cheesy songs he learnt back in the real world and stuffing yourselves with some good campfire food.

» a/n: not me imagining the punch scene from the Friday movie for this piece 😭

» more simu!ken content here: 1 – 2

» gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

316 notes · View notes

sereneres · 6 months

Text

dollz™ ³

newjeans x 6th member!reader / 0.8k

summary. — in which danielle has too much time on her hands. she also isn’t really there but we’re going to ignore that

warnings. — danielle is here yet isn’t at the same time

“this name thing is lowkey kinda hard.”

hyein huffs, rolling onto her side and raising an eyebrow at the older girl. “don’t you already have all of yours, unnie?”

“well, no, i still have to come up with with mine and ynnie’s.” hanni sighs, dropping her chin into her palm. “the others were easier. bbangsaz, kittyz, twotolz, niniz–”

“why are you and dani-unnie ‘niniz’?” haerin tilted her head. “couldn’t you just be ‘aussiez’? because you both came from australia?”

minji, sighing, patted the girl on the soldier with a look of faux sympathy. “don’t question it too much, haerin, you’ll just get lost in the complicatedness that is hanni’s mind.”

“hey, just so you know, danielle was the one who wanted niniz, not me!”

“oh.” minji blinked, then turned back to haerin to once again pat her on the shoulder. “nevermind haerin.”

“hey–”

hyein groans, turning to you as the two girls continued bickering. haerin, having already settled down on minji’s lap, starts to doze off.

“yn-unnie~” she whines, shuffling closer to you and placing her hands on your knees. “can you help me, please?”

her words are almost robotic, seeing as she had said them in english, and that, paired with the pouty look on her face, was enough to make you coo at the younger girl.

“don’t worry about it too much, hyein.” you murmured, placing a hand on her head and petting her. “it’ll come to us… hopefully.”

minji, being unable to move with a sleeping haerin in her lap, turns her head nearly one-hundred and eighty degrees to look at you. “maybe you should ask danielle for help. she’s pretty good at coming up with names.”

“sh– mph,” haerin yawned. “she made a list of ship names for us already. didn’t you guys get her message?”

“she did?” hanni frowned, picking up your phone. “when’d she send it?”

“hanni-unnie, that’s my phone–”

the older girl pressed a finger to your lips, her eyes fixed on the screen of your phone. “shush, yn, you weren’t using it anyway.” she paused. “uh, what’s your password again?”

“just use your own phone, unnie.” hyein sighed, plopping her head onto your lap. “it would be faster if you did.”

you too sigh, albeit more out of exasperation than tiredness. “debut date, hanni-unnie.” you reminded her for the nth time that month. “it’s our debut date.”

“right… did you use month day year, day month year, year month day, or year day month?”

“hanni-unnie.”

“okay, okay, i got it, no need to whine… oh wow this list is long–”

“what about barbiez?” hyein cut in, having pulled up the list on her own phone. “that’s pretty cute, right, yn-unnie?”

you hum. “it is, but i don’t think we can just use barbiez. for one thing, it would look weird being spelt with a z when everyone spells it with an s–”

“all of our shipnames look weird with a z though.” haerin muttered. “dani-unnie and i use ‘candyz’ and not ‘candies’…”

“and, most importantly, we could get into some issues using the name barbie despite not being affiliated to the brand.” you smile apologetically at the girl in your lap, the beginnings of a pout on her face. “sorry, hyein-ah, but we can’t use it.”

“what about bratz?” hanni suggested, having not paid attention to anything you had said. “you and hyein look like bratz, right, minji?”

minji blinks. “erm…” she glances at you, her silent plea for help plastering an amused yet small smile on your lips.

“we can’t use that one because, as i said earlier, copyright and or trademark issues, hyein.” you said. “also, i don’t think it would be a good look if we were called bratz. it’s too much like the word brats, and who knows how many people already think of us like that…”

“those pe’ple are jus’ haters, unnie.” haerin murmured sleepily. “ignore ‘em.”

hanni huffed and nodded her head in agreement with the younger’s words. “well said, haerin, well said.”

“okay, what about dollz?” minji asked, looking at hyein. she had, at somepoint, taken your phone from hanni and was going through the list danielle had created. “since you can’t use barbiez or bratz, why not just use dollz?”

“dollz.” hyein repeated thoughtfully, seemingly testing how the word sounded. “that’s…”

“it’s perfect.” you leaned forward, trying and failing to peek at the screen—it was a privacy screen, hence your failure—of your phone. “was it on dani-unnie’s list?”

the older girl nodded. “it was.” she gives you your phone before pointing at the name on the screen. “see, it’s like, ten or so names down from the first one in the third row.”

“oh… just how many names did dani-unnie come up with?”

“she came up with around twenty–”

“oh, that’s not that bad.”

“–for each pairing, excluding the ones we already made names for, so, around a hundred?”

“a hundred?!”

previous. / pairz. / next.

#sereneres #seren.writes #newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #minji x reader #hanni x reader #danielle x reader #haerin x reader #hyein x reader #⊹#nwjns.yn

140 notes · View notes

abeautylives · 29 days

Text

Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 1

author’s note: I’m really excited to have something to share with you guys. It’s written from a diff POV than I usually do, but my main character girly pop has a lot of personality 😘 Big big big thank you to bff @samkiszkasfacialhair for all the help, the ideas, and the motivation 🤍

pairing: female!OCxkiszkas (just read it, you’ll figure it out)

time frame: 2010-2014

word count: 5.7k this part

warnings: language, illicit substance use, rampant teenage emotions and delulu, kissing, josh 🥺

I don’t actually remember the day I met Sam Kiszka.

Not the date, or even the day of the week. I do know what year it was, because it was the year my mom moved us to this quaint (read: weird) little town. Charming, but weird. And boring.

Boring, until I met Sam.

Eleven-year-old Sam was a menace, but twelve-year-old me was bored. So obviously, we became the best of friends. He taught me how to light a firecracker, I had an endless supply of Barbies to blow up. He showed me how to slip out of my bedroom window without making a sound, I told him how to impress girls without grossing them out. In our early teenage years, he introduced me to drugs and I taught him how to unclasp a bra. Chill out, it was weed, and I wasn’t even wearing the bra.

My mom just loved that I’d made such a great friend.

The first time I was allowed to play at his house I met his sister, who was closer to my age, but it was too late. Sam and I were already attached at the hip, though mine sat an inch or two higher than his for a couple of years, until a growth spurt and puberty eventually left him with the height advantage.

That was when he stopped calling me by my name, and started calling me Tiny. Like I said, a menace.

“You’re the coolest girl I know, even if you’re vertically challenged.”

Please note: the first time he said this to me, he had finally just surpassed me in height by half an inch.

Then of course, there were the twins. You’d think the eldest siblings would not have become a big part of my life, but they were just always around, and actually liked hanging out with their baby brother. Close knit family and all that. It’s weird, right? At the wise and worldly age of twelve, the two fourteen-year-olds terrified me. Josh and Jake were both scary in their own way to a pubescent girl on the cusp of teenager-dom. Jake was pretty quiet, but his ego was not. He was hot, okay? In like, a Justin Bieber-y way but also kind of a jock-y way, but a jock with a guitar. Whatever, I’m only human.

Josh was… well, Josh was Josh. Unlike anyone else I’d ever met, and not necessarily in a good way. He was loud, like, all the time. He never seemed to stop talking and ended most of his sentences at an eardrum-piercing decibel level. Fortunately, or not, he didn’t get hot until I was old enough to obsess over it.

I’m sure I didn’t speak a coherent word to either of them the entire first year of my friendship with Sam.

I have a million memories of the time I spent with Sam and his family, but I have no recollection of the day I fell in love with Josh Kiszka.

But once I did, it was a deep, obsessive kind of love that only a teenager can achieve. One day he was my best friend’s eccentric older brother and the next…

Well, the next he was a rockstar.

I mentioned the whole jock with a guitar thing that Jake had going on, and that really hadn’t changed, but somewhere along the way Josh had transformed from a loud, annoying theater kid to a genuine, full blown vocalist. I mean, for a while he was both.

When they first started playing together, I only gave a shit because they’d roped Sam into it too and it took up way too much of his time. I’d watch them play, and they weren’t… bad? They weren’t good either. My time could have been better spent watching R rated movies (scandalous) or, I don’t know, doing my homework. But nope! We were in a band now.

They practiced, a lot. It felt like all they did was practice, for at least a couple years. And I just watched dutifully, every weekend of every month of every year. They did get better.

But here’s the thing. I was there for all of it. I was there the day Jake ran into the living room and snatched Sam up by the back of his shirt. Come on Sammy boy, we need you on bass. I was there the day their buddy Kyle sat down at the drum kit and completed the ensemble. (I was also there the day he got replaced.) And of course, I was there the day Josh pushed his voice past the instruments and the amps, and went from a weak imitation of a rock singer to something else all together. Something totally and completely him.

That’s not the day I fell in love with him (I would’ve remembered), but it was the first time he had ever… impressed me. And not that I cared, but Jake was impressed too. I saw it on his face.

It was cute. In like, a sweet, brotherly way.

Okay, anyway! The combination of Jake’s skill and Josh’s raw talent got them noticed. (Sammy’s talent would develop over time, I didn’t forget about him. Sam, you’re the most talented one in the band.) And then they were playing actual gigs. I wasn’t allowed to go to most of those early ones, because for some reason these dive bars were permitting these pint sized, teenage Zeppelin wannabes to perform at them. Old people like our parents loved that shit. The locals went crazy for it.

They played Fischer Hall a couple times, right there in town, but around their third or fourth gig there, Josh had unbuttoned the flowy, floral, women’s blouse he was wearing and took to the stage with it hanging open, beaded necklaces draped down his bare chest and curly hair wild.

Why was he sort of… ripped? How had I never noticed? Were his pants always so tight? And low cut? I was sweating. I didn’t even know he was literally cosplaying Robert Plant.

Did I fall in love with him that night? Of course not, I already told you I don’t remember the day that happened.

The Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I left my house around 8:30 to head to Sam’s. To my mom, this was an average Saturday night - I spent nearly all of them at Sam’s house, where his parents were always home. Ya know, or so mine thought. Whether the Kiszkas were actually home or not, we hung out in the garage.

That’s not as weird as it sounds, it was a really cool garage. With furniture and everything. And their instruments, a lot of them. I don’t know how every one of these guys knew how to play every instrument packed into that room, but they did. And by the time I was sixteen, they were really almost good at it.

(Jake was good. Very good… I told you he was hot.)

This particular Saturday though, this was going to be the Saturday that changed my life. And I wanted to dress the part.

In hindsight, I wore something I’d probably worn a hundred times. Then why had it taken me so long to get ready? I changed my jeans twice, my shirt at least ten times, added a sweater, threw it back on my bed, added a flannel, tossed that to the floor. Picked it back up and shoved my arms in, made sure it hung off my shoulder just so. Shoulders are sexy, right? Do guys like shoulders? Oh shit, what do guys even like?

Anyway, I left the house looking exactly as I always did.

I rode my bike slowly that night, already hyper aware of the sweat under my arms.

So I slowed my pedaling even further. When the house came into view, I hopped off the bike and walked it up the drive before tossing it to the grass outside the garage.

Okay, knock twice and just go in.

That’s what everyone always did, what I always did. Just knock twice then lift the door. Everyone was always welcome, come on in!

So go in, idiot.

Look, I did it eventually. Just like always, knock knock, lift the door enough to slip underneath, let it close behind me. Except when it rolled back to the ground, I lost my nerve and stood frozen there for a few seconds too long.

Sam called me out, because he’s a menace.

“The hell are you doing, Tiny? We started without you.”

I moved farther into the space, eyes bouncing between my options through the soft haze of pungent smoke that already hung over the room. There was my usual spot - on the floor, next to the spot where Sam sat cross-legged, his long frame folded and bent, his sharp elbows resting on his knees as he waited for the joint to make its way back to him.

Not tonight, I’m on a mission.

Jake sat to his left, in a well-worn, floral print wingback chair. It was comfortable enough for one person, decades of weight softening the strength of the cushion’s springs before it ever came to live in this particular garage. Jake’s body was slung over it, legs thrown haphazardly over an arm while his own were wrapped around an acoustic guitar. Typical. He tipped his chin at me from under the brim of a bucket hat, then nodded towards the floor beside him. Holy shit, does he want me to sit by him?! I think my fingers lifted in a barely-there wave but I’m not really sure they were functioning correctly.

Okay focus, he did not. Does not. Not in this lifetime.

Still without his next hit, Sam glanced up at me over his shoulder and patted the threadbare throw rug next to him. “Sit down weirdo, you’re making me paranoid.”

Nerves that I’d never, never, felt before in this room fluttered through my stomach, I let my gaze meet Sam’s before continuing the search for a place to plant myself.

There was really only one option left - the couch - and both ends were already occupied. Our friend Danny (Kyle’s replacement, sorry Kyle) was in the process of melting into the corner closest to Jake, his eyes glassy and already tinged pink when he looked up at me. Only his eyebrows lifted in greeting before he mirrored Sam’s offer to sit next to him, tapping the cushion beside him.

This is fine, totally normal! Danny was Sam’s other half. Well, his other male half. I guess we were in thirds. A trio.

I accepted the offering, stepping around the coffee table, scarred with years worth of “art” - drawings and carvings, a few discreet dirty words etched into the surface in between - to drop to the middle of the couch. One of Sam’s brows tipped up when I met his eyes again, his expression asking, “Dude, what gives?”

“Hey, you’re here!” He noticed me, finally. Silvery smoke crept from between his lips as he grinned, and I watched transfixed when they pursed together and he blew a cloud toward the ceiling. My stare was broken when he leaned across the table and passed the joint to an impatient Sam, but to the delight of the butterflies going nuts in the pit of my stomach, he leaned back into the cushions and threw an arm over the back of the couch behind me. EEEEP!

“Hey-“ It was a humiliating and unsexy croak, and I quickly cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey, Josh. Hi.”

His long hair was pulled back, his entire face available for my viewing pleasure. Things were going perfectly.

I joined the rotation, the weed easing the flutters caused by sitting so close to Josh, but amplifying the feeling that the other three were watching and wondering why I was acting so strange.

They were not. They were high.

Aside from the stray curious eyebrow from my BFF across the table, they actually acted like nothing was abnormal about my seating choice, even when I started to scooch imperceptibly to my left every time I adjusted the way I was sitting.

Pulled my legs up under me? Scooch.

Dropped them down so my sneakers met the cement? Scooch.

Crossed my left ankle over my right knee? Scooch.

It was totally subtle.

“I’m gonna grab a pop, you guys want anything?” Sam startled me out of a pleasant reverie as he jumped up from the floor, but my freaking knee was touching Josh’s knee! No I don’t want anything, I have everything I need right here!

It turned out Sam was a huge knee blocker. He gripped me by an elbow and peeled me from the couch as the others murmured at our retreating backs about needing Doritos. He pushed me out the side door and towards the house and had me in the kitchen before I could even tell him he was ruining everything!

Even through bleary, hooded eyes, his death glare was brutal.

“Saaammmmm, what are you doing?!” “What the hell do you think you’re doing, T?”

More glaring. He broke the glare-off first, jerking his head to the side to flick his hair out of his eyes and turning to open the refrigerator, but once his face was inside it, he called me out again.

“Why are you being so weird with Josh?”

I love him, I need him!

“Whaaa.. I don’t know what you mean. You’re just super high.” Yeah, I really thought that would work. Sue me!

Straightening to his full height (seriously, like two inches taller than me… maybe three), he spun to face me again. He actually looked down his nose at me.

“Do you like, like him? What the fuck, Tiny?” He whispered that last part, as if his parents were lurking around the corner waiting to bust him for cussing.

“Look, you wouldn’t understand Sam. I’m much older than y-“

“You’re not even an entire year older than me.”

“Eleven months is basically an entire ye-“

“That’s not the point!” That part was like whisper yelling. I swear it looked like he was yelling, but it sounded like he was whispering.

“Okay!” Yeah, I whisper yelled back. “Sammy, I like him… I’m sorry! I don’t even know when it happened but I woke up one day and I realized that he’s perfect! He’s funny and nice and he’s so… so… cute! Okay? He’s so cute I wanna die and I love him!”

Sam’s eyes were wide, as wide as they could be under the circumstances, and he stared at me like I’d grown another head. With a horn coming out of it.

“You love him. You realize how dumb you sound right now?”

Dumb? No no, this was serious. I pleaded with my best friend for forgiveness. And his help. “Sam… please. Don’t be mad at me, I- I don’t know, I can’t help it! That’s just how I feel, and I want him to like me back!” That’s when it hit me, I needed a wingman for this plan.

“Can you help me get him to like me back?” I gave him my best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip stuck out and everything. As if that had ever worked in the four years we’d known each other so far.

“Fuck no.” His eyes moved side to side, looking for sneaky parents again I guessed. “Definitely not. Why do you have to like my brother, dude? That’s sick, it’s like incest or something!” He stomped his feet a little, and I couldn't help but think it made him look like a child. He was a child! This was serious, grown-up shit and I didn’t have time to play games.

“Ugh, if you’re not gonna help me then at least get out of my way.” I pushed past him and headed back out of the house and into the garage. Not much had changed when I got there, but Danny must have left while Sam and I were gone. The entire couch was empty aside from Josh, still sitting cross-legged in one corner. Damn it!

I flopped into the spot that Danny had vacated, just as Sam hustled back in through the side door, arms full of sodas and bags of chips. My cheeks were warm when I looked up at him, and then they burst into flames.

“Scoot over T, I like the corner spot.”

He’s helping me! Oh shit, he’s helping me. Move your ass!!

Fumbling for a grip on reality, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Sam’s. He lifted his brows and tilted his head in Josh’s direction. I suddenly remembered why I wasted all my days with this kid - he’s my ride or die. And now I owed him, big.

As soon as I stood to shift to the center of the couch, Sam’s elbow snuck out and made contact with my shoulder. My feet tangled with each other and, balance lost, I tumbled. Right into the arms of my beloved.

Okay okay, that’s a reach. But I did land on him. Sam had nudged me just hard enough to send me toward the opposite end of the couch and I landed ass-first on Josh’s leg, still folded and crossed under the other.

Through the mortification, I heard Sam’s distinct snickering as he placed himself gently on the other cushion. Then, through the popping of soda tabs and crinkling of chip bags, I heard the sweetest, most beautiful sound ever.

“If you wanted to sit next to me so bad, you could’ve just done it, T.”

I quite literally had to extract myself from his lap, but Josh just giggled as I clumsily moved off of him. To my extreme delight and disbelief, I didn’t make it too far. He slung an arm over my shoulders and kept me at his side. We are sharing a cushion. ALERT ALERT - OUR THIGHS ARE TOUCHING.

His hand wrapped around the ball of my shoulder and squeezed. Not once, but twice. I felt like I was gonna puke, but I risked turning my head and meeting his eyes. And he. Fucking. Smiled.

“You good, Tiny?” I should’ve laughed. We were the same exact height, I could be calling him tiny. But this wasn’t funny, because he was still smiling at me and he’d lowered his voice to speak directly to me and I felt it all the way to my toes. Somehow I managed to smile back.

“I’m good.” I was soooooo good. Even when Sam shoved a bag of Doritos at me, I was good. Because Josh reached into it and pulled a few out for himself. He reached into my lap! For chips!

Risking a sideways glance at Sam, I found him eyeballing Josh’s hand that was still resting lightly over my shoulder. I gave him my best “holy shit holy shit holy shit” expression, to which he rolled his eyes and shrugged. Before turning my attention back to the love of my life, my gaze drifted past Sam and landed on Jake. Oh, he was still here? Hadn’t noticed.

Except I was noticing. And he didn’t look pleased. He locked in and held eye contact, absolutely scowling. He was pissed. At me?! I must not have hidden my surprise well, because after a few more tense seconds of the longest eye contact we’d ever held, he blinked away and flung the guitar he’d been cradling all night over the arm of the chair.

Look, he didn’t throw it or anything. The stand was right there and the guitar landed safely, if not a little roughly, in its place. But then he tossed the open bag of Lay’s to the table, swung his legs around and stood. He caught my eye again, his hair doing that flippy thing over his eyebrows as he shook his head.

“Whatever. Night, guys.”

Just like that, he was gone. Two down, one to go. GTFO Sam!!

The next hour or so passed in a blur. Sam kept hitting the joint long after Josh and I had turned it down, and by the time he’d deposited the roach in the ashtray he could barely keep his eyes open. I watched his head fall back into the cushion and pounced on my opportunity.

Leaning away from Josh’s loving embrace (shut up, I was in heaven okay?), I slapped Sam’s chest with the back of my hand.

“Sammy… Sam!” He snorted as his head whipped up, swiped a hand over his mouth and looked at me. I was still leaning toward him, my back to Josh, and I spoke to him telepathically. Or with my eyebrows.

Get out of here right now or so help me God.

He answered verbally, like he couldn't even read my mind. “Huh?”

I withheld growling at him like an animal. “Why don’t you go to bed, man? You’re toast.” Go. NOW.

His eyes tried to focus on me, they really did, before he shook his head and tried again. “Shit. Yeah, okay. Are you… do you wanna stay on the couch tonight?”

Yes. This couch. Allll night long.

“Yeah yeah, I will, but I’m not tired yet. I’m just gonna, um, chill here for a little bit longer?” At that, I turned my head and risked a glance at Josh. Thank God I did, because he was already looking at me, and he grinned. EEEEEEEP!

“I’m not tired yet either, we can listen to some music.” I doubted I could hear music at that point, not over the blood rushing in my ears. But then, oh then, he looked up at Sam and said, “I’ll make sure she makes it to bed, I mean, the couch. Downstairs, I’ll make sure she makes it downstairs.”

“Fine, whatever.” See? He’s my ride or die. “See you in the morning, T.” And then he was gone.

We were alone.

HELLO? WE. WERE. ALONE.

Sure, I’d been alone with Josh before. I’d been hanging around his house nearly every day for four years, we’d definitely been left in a room together at some point. But not while his arm was draped loosely over my shoulders, not while our legs were touching, not while my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

But now that we were alone, I had no effing clue what to do. Then Josh stood up. My heart dropped into my stomach, but he walked over to the stacked milk crates that housed a small part of their family’s record collection and crouched to skim through them. He found something he liked and set it on the turntable, the needle bringing the crackling beginnings of a song to life.

When he turned back to face me, I thought for sure he’d sit in that ugly wingback chair. Or at the other end of the couch. Instead, he circled the coffee table and sat on the opposite side of me than he had been all night. And now his other thigh was touching mine!

I’m pretty sure my throat closed up because I had to clear it rather unattractively to speak. “What, uhh, ha, um, who is this?”

Sexy, right?

Didn’t matter, his smile took shape right in front of my eyes and all I could see was the little barely-there gap between his front teeth. I wanted to know what it felt like on my tongue. Would I be able to tell? If I kissed him right now, would I be able to feel that little discrepancy in the perfection of his teeth? I lifted my eyes to meet his and realized he’d spoken, and I’d missed it.

“Sorry, uhh… what?”

His head tilted and his eyes searched my face for… something. “Wilson Pickett. Sammy hasn’t played this for you?”

Sammy? Who is Sammy? Ohhh right, best friend.

“Um, no, I don’t think so. But maybe? There’s always music on, he’s probably played this.”

He just nodded, at first in response to my rambling and then in time with the song. When it ended, he just… looked at me, for what felt like forever but was probably only a few seconds. I was once again hyper aware of my underarms. Sweating. So I slipped the flannel off of my shoulders, keeping my forearms in the sleeves but giving me some airflow to the pits. Josh’s eyes dropped from mine and landed on the now exposed skin. Yes! Guys like shoulders!

The realization slapped me in the face, so I grabbed it and ran. I slid my arms out of the sleeves and tossed the flannel past Josh and onto the chair, thanking God that I’d worn a tank top. He gulped. Like a full-blown gulp.

Omg I’m making him nervous!!

Confidence boosted, I shifted even closer to him, until our bodies were tucked tight against each other. I’d never been this close to him, aside from that one time we’d been crammed in the back seat of his mom’s car with Sam and Jake, their sister sitting pretty in the front seat. But then I had been a scrawny kid, only thirteen (and a half) and he had been a really weird fifteen year old, not yet having grown into his features. I hadn’t wanted any part of his stinky, sweaty, farty body near me and I’d squeezed myself so close to Sam I was practically in his lap.

But on this night? This Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I was no longer a kid. And he was no longer weird. He was beautiful, and my face was really close to his face. I could feel it when he whispered, his breath actually touched my lips.

“Wha- what are you doing, T?”

He was looking at my lips, waiting for my answer. I licked them because I was freaking parched, but he watched. And I watched him gulp, again! My tongue slipped out and wet my bottom lip a second time.

“Josh?” Whispering is sexy, it’s seductive. I was sure of it. He did it back, just my name - my actual name - lilting at the end in question.

“Do you.. wanna… kiss me?” I leaned over him, placed my left hand on his chest and felt his collar bone under my fingertips through his t-shirt. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

I saw the panic widen his eyes, then they darted around me, looking at anything but me. It was really so cute how nervous he was. He was eighteen, for Christ sake! And I was making him nervous!

“Kiss me, Josh.” His eyes snapped back to mine, slipped down to my mouth again and then back.

And then. He. Freaking. KISSED. ME.

In a split second that felt like hours, I watched his eyes close and perfect lips pucker. My eyes stayed open at first, I didn’t want to miss this.

Leaning further into him, I settled my lips against his and slid the hand on his chest up the side of his neck (his pulse was out of control, by the way), and then cradled his jaw. My fingertips were in his hair right behind his ear. I pulled his face closer and ramped up the pressure of our lips pushed together.

He put his hands on me. I swear to God, he really did! One reached for my hip and the other came up to rest against my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed and my body took over. Not a coherent thought left in my pretty little head. Especially when our mouths separated, and then he pushed them back together.

With a mind of its own, my other hand came up and gripped his shoulder. Then my leg swung over his lap and I. Was. Straddling. Him.

It wasn’t my fault. My brain had gone haywire, my body moving on instinct. I’d quite literally never done this before. I’d kissed plenty, I even kissed Sam once (barf), but this felt different. This felt mature. Probably a little more mature than I was ready for but like I said, it was not my fault.

A lot of blame fell on Josh, a whole mountain of it, when the hand on my cheek dropped to my other hip and gripped hard, pulled me flush against him. And his lips coerced my mouth open. And the tip of his tongue swept out and touched mine.

Oh, I was in way over my head. But this was Josh, the boy I loved, and he was loving me back!

A sound I’d never made before crept up my throat. Instant embarrassment heated my already toasty cheeks and climbed up my neck, but then. Ohh then. The same freaking sound came from somewhere below me. Josh groaned. Because of me.

My animal brain completely took over. My tongue was already sliding against his, and my hips decided to follow suit. With zero finesse, they rocked into his. Just once.

He broke the kiss and dropped his head back to the cushion.

No no noooooo, you like this! You love it!

I could feel the proof that he loved it. I was sitting on it. I could see it, his chest heaving.

So I leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his throat.

“Stop, T.” His hands fell limp and landed on my thighs. My brain scrambled to catch up. Stop? Go! His fingers spread across the denim on my legs. Go go go!

But then he pushed. I leaned back to see his face, find an explanation, but his eyes were still closed as he pushed me off of his lap. Helped me swing my leg back over. Kept his hands on my thighs until they were planted back on the couch and closed. Firmly. Then they left me, and I felt their absence like a knife to the heart.

“I… wow, okay.” It’s the best I could manage to formulate, but my brain was running in overdrive.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let that happen.” He rubbed his palms, the ones that were just holding me, over his knees then leaned forward and dropped his forehead into them.

Okay, maybe he just thinks we were moving too fast!

“Josh, it’s okay. I want this! We can just kiss, I’ll stay over here and you stay there and-“

It was so quiet, but it stopped my words on my tongue and slammed my lips shut.

“I can’t.”

Okay. Okay. Okay.

It’s because Sam’s my best friend.

It’s because I’m too young.

He thinks I’m still a kid.

Like his kid sister.

Fuck!

Anger rolled through me. “Why? Is it Sam?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face and turned to me. Looked at me, finally.

“No, I-“

“Am I too young for you? You’re not that much older, Josh and we’ve known eachother forever, it’s not that big of a de-“

“It’s not that, Tiny.” His eyes closed again.

“Don’t call me that!” He’d offended me, I was o-ffen-ded. “I’m not a little fucking kid!” Okay, I was pissed! I was a grown ass woman!

(I wasn’t.)

Both of his hands reached forward and he pulled mine towards him. Held them there. Opened his eyes. Was he gonna cry? Why are his eyes wet?! Shit, am I crying?

“It’s not you, T. It’s me.” Oh please. “I- well, I um, I like someone else.”

Back to angry! “What?! Then why the hell were you kissing me?!” What a scoundrel, what a snake, what an asshole!

“It’s not like that-“

“What the fuck is it like?!” I didn’t normally curse much at that age, but when I tell you I was mad? Hurt? Embarrassed? I couldn’t stop it from happening.

Shit, his eyes were definitely wet.

“It’s a guy.”

He whispered it, and it wasn’t sexy, it wasn’t seductive. It was sad. Scared. Defeated. I snatched my hands out of his.

There was a long silence. Uncomfortable. He stared at his empty hands and we processed.

“What did you say?” His posture shrank, like he was trying to disappear. “Josh, it’s okay. Talk to me.” It was my turn to take his hands. I held them in mine and squeezed once.

“I’m so sorry, I- I just don’t like you. Like that.” His eyes found their way back to my face, “I really like him.” They went wide and I’m pretty sure mine did too. He seemed shocked that he’d said it out loud, right before panic spread across his features again.

“Please don’t say anything, T. I haven’t- no one knows that. No one. Please.”

“No, I would never Josh, I swear. I just… why were you, ya know, kissing me?” Touching me, pulling me in. He pulled his hands away from me this time.

“I just wanted to feel normal. I wanted them to think I was normal.”

I couldn’t help it. I threw my arms around him and held on tight.

“You are.” Normal and beautiful and perfect. And not mine. A heavy sigh slipped from between my lips. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He stayed silent, so I did too. I kept my arms around him for a few minutes before finally letting them slip free, rubbing a palm between his shoulder blades.

“I guess I should go… Are you okay?” Look, I was not okay, but it didn’t seem like that was important anymore.

“Aren’t you gonna stay downstairs tonight?”

Definitely not. “No, I think I should go home…” Probably won’t show my face over here for a goooood long time.

“Let me walk with you.”

I did. He walked on the other side of my bike while I walked it by the handlebars. When we reached my driveway, I left the bike propped against the side of the garage and turned to him. And just like in my dreams, he moved close and pecked a kiss into my cheek. Then he pulled me into his arms.

“I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, ya know?” His voice was soft and low, his breath tickling my ear. It should’ve been a literal dream come true.

A half step back and I rubbed my hands up and down his arms. “It’s really fine. I’m sorry for…” Humiliating us both? “Everything.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I mean it,” he emphasized when I shook my head. “Just… please don’t say anything. Even to Sam. Especially to Sam. I’m gonna tell them all when I’m ready, I think.”

Huge, massive sigh. “I won’t. I promise.”

And I never did. Not really.

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam gvf #sam kiszka #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fan fiction #jake gvf #jake kiszka fic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fanfic #josh kiszka fic #josh gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction

70 notes · View notes