Drivin' Me Insane // Ken
Content/warnings: light smut, singer Ken alluded to, rubbing Ken through his pants. Cliffhanger because I'm a bastard.
Notes: Just a short little blurb before I actually write a few bigger things for Ken. Thank you again RG for saving my life with your gay little performance and guyliner.
Word count: 188
“I've gotta go out there soon..” Ken squirms with every kiss, a mix of excitement and nervousness jolting through his veins. The wall he's been backed into may just be the only thing keeping your doll from falling on his ass. His legs wobble under your weight, and a soft whimper is choked out of him when your lips leave a trail about his cheeks and jaw. Under his breath, you hear him stutter out the word ’Oh’, followed by a sharp gasp and the feeling of him needily pawing at you through your clothes.
Ken ruts against your hand when you tease his cock through the bedazzled pink fabric. “So good,” He mutters out under his breath, neatly combed hair already beginning to come undone the more his hips jolt and buck. Needily, he whines when denied a quick orgasm, leaning forward to follow your hand but catching himself once realizing.
“Fuck you,” he hisses, lowly and unlike himself. Slow piano keys, however, bring pause to his frustrations. His cheeks and ears flush red, and Ken's shoulders tense. “I'll get you for that when I get back.”
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Cherry Pie
masterlist // ao3
*Summary: As punishment for Patriarchy©, President Barbie had given him a choice. Either he had to reap what he had sown and become a subservient little thing or leave Barbieland forever.
*Rating: +18 for explicit mature content
*Content/Tags: Femdom, Pegging, Weight Gain, Feeding Kink, Teasing, Fat Shaming
*Status: Oneshot/Complete
The non-moving clock was ticking. He only had a couple more minutes before his wife would get home. He needed this to turn out perfectly. He wanted the reward that came with pleasing her. See, as punishment for Patriarchy©, President Barbie had given him a choice. Either he had to reap what he had sown and become a subservient little thing or leave Barbieland forever. Obviously, he couldn’t leave Barbieland. He’d never be able to find a gynecologist or a job in the real world. So without much of a choice, he chose to become a housewife. Everyday his job was to wake up at the crack of dawn, make an elaborate breakfast for his wife while picking at the scraps for himself later, keeping a tidy house for her, and preparing a little dessert for her as she walked into her dreamhouse. The silent timer dinged and he pulled the pastry out. He let the smell waft to his nose and took note of the vanilla undertones in the pie crust. He reached for the rounded-edge knife but held himself back. God knows how many times she had punished him for taking a bite before her. If she could see his level of restraint right now, what might she say?
‘What a good boy.’
He let the shiver run down his spine. Yes, he was a good boy. He was her good boy. He felt the wind shift as the door to the dreamhouse opened. He heard the click of her heels as she came into the kitchen. He turned to face her, adorning a perfect smile.
“What do we have today?” She said in a clinical tone
“Cherry pie.” He replied. "I thought you'd like it more than pecan..." His voice trailed off, and the thought cut off by a quick nod of approval from her, he takes a knife out of the cabinet and cuts into the dessert. A good amount of the filling pulled out with the movement of the steel blade. He rummaged around the other utensil cabinet and got a spatula out to pull the slice out. She took the plate from him and then took a tentative bite. He bit down on the inside of his lip as he waited in silent anticipation. He can’t afford to disappoint her. He needed her approval. He needed… her. He rocked back and forth onto his tiptoes. He knew better than to speak while she was evaluating him.
“Good.” She said, the corner of her mouth turning upward. He let a deep sigh of relief out but he wasn’t out of the woods just yet. He knew getting his hopes up and asking for her won’t get him what he wants. “Your crust has improved.”
“Thank you.” He took the compliment with a cool composure
“God knows how many times it took you.” She looked him up and down. He felt exposed as her eyes kept giving him a once over. She didn’t need to say it but she will anyway. She walked over to him and let her hands fall into the dips of his hips. Her hands took hold of the love handles that had formed at his side. “Look at you. You were a slim little thing when we started…”
Her hands moved up his torso and rested on his soft chest. Gone were the beach perfect abs. She had a devious smirk plastered across her face as her hands cupped the sagging pecs. His face turned a crimson tone, but he couldn’t deny he loved the way she touched him. A hand pressed against his cheek and she quietly muttered, “So pudgy.”
“Please…” He let the words spill from his lips before realizing what he’d done
“Please what?”
“Please…” He looked down at his feet sheepishly, “Please play with me.”
“What, like this?” She asked like she didn’t know what she was doing to him. He felt his dick twitch underneath his ill-fitting apron. She seemed to sense his pleasure as well and with her lips barely making contact with his cheek, whispered, “God you’re getting so fat. I bet you liked making all those mistakes, huh? Now that Barbie’s not here you felt like you could let yourself go?”
Ken brought his hand up to his mouth and bit down. His dick was already hard. Mattel, he wanted to cum quietly, hiding the mess behind his apron. But no. He wasn’t allowed that kind of privacy. She pulled the apron off the back of his neck and dropped it onto the tile floor. She tisked as she saw the sparkly fluid that laid on the tip of his dick.
“I’ve barely even started with you.” She chastised him. “Wait.”
He turned around and leaned up against the kitchen counter. He waited quietly, not daring to touch himself while small beads of sparkly precum started dripping onto the cabinet. He was completely out of it until he felt the firm plastic of her strap pressed in the crevice of his butt cheeks. He let out a little gasp as he felt her weight push into him, his love handles spilling over the edge of the counter.
“So pretty like this.” She said, moving the artificial cock up and down. “You’ve really grown into your job, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” He whimpered, needing her inside of him. She pulled away from him once again and finally, she was inside of him. He moaned low as she slowly pressed herself into him, getting further and further into him. Her hands moved from just above his shoulder blades to back on her favorite spot, his growing love handles. She started off slowly as she pumped herself into him. Her speed increased as his breaths got shorter and more desperate, almost like he was begging for release without a single word spoken. His grip tightened and his teeth dug into his plush bottom lip. She continues whispering sweet nothings about his weight gain into his ear, her warm breath gliding down his neck. He started, “Fu…” before a long string of glizz came out of him. He was almost spent, but this was a punishment for him after all. She pounded into his prostate, over and over again, listening to his pathetic whines to stop while he could still stand. Eventually, she pulled out of him and his legs buckled ever so slightly without her behind him. She threw the toy to the side and wrapped her hands around the front of Ken’s legs.
“There there, I’ve got you.” She whispered into his ear. His whole weight shifted back into her and she guided him into a wooden chair nearby. Ken was still in the process of catching his breath when he wrapped an arm around the back of the chair. He looked up at her as she found the apron she tossed to the side and placed it back around his neck. She decided to sit on his clothed lap and leaned into him for a kiss. With his other hand he weakly made an effort to cup her cheek in his hand while they kissed. “Now. I expect another pastry tomorrow. You’ll do that for me won’t you?”
He nodded gently in between kisses before she got up and went to put her heels on. As she left, she gave one glance back at her toy and said
“That’s my good boy.”
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Does it really rub anyone else the wrong way when people go "Ryan Gosling is too old/looks too old to play Ken!" or is it just me? Like, I think he looks fine. He looks good, he looks handsome, he looks beautiful in and out of the movie. He did amazing as his Ken and I'm honestly having a hard time trying to imagine anyone else as his Ken because he did so great. He's not "too old" nor does he "look too old". We as a whole society really need stop telling people that they're too old and no longer attractive enough anymore once they're in their 40s because it's extremely harmful, untrue, and just a plain awful way of thinking.
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