made weak by writing

╔═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╗

It's like looking into a mirror! Well, sort of.

All Ken could see was.. himself, and the pencil drawings look exactly like him! Even his body, especially his abs. He notices little notes dotted around his sketches such as:

"OMG he's SO cute!" "Seriously how does he look this good?" And cute little symbols like " >////////< " and " ⁰○⁰ " next to himself.

There's even dates on the top of the pages and if he looked from the start of the sketchbook, he could tell the exact date you had met him. Halfway through the book did your lovely, emotional sketches transition into a museum of Ken.

He couldn't even put into words how he felt. How could he ever think that you wouldn't feel the same? All you think about is him!

He grins ear to ear at the book, closing it and holding it close to his chest.

His tummy was doing that weird tingling it does whenever he thinks about you or is near you, especially right now, it feels like his whole body is on fire.

What should he do about this? Should he confront you? Should he be confessing his undying love for you? Now that he knows you find him cute and also probably love him, is there much to be afraid of?

What if he gets to kiss you? Or hug you? Calm down Ken, you're getting a little rowdy... he mentally slaps himself. Just act like a normal guy would.

Ken jumps, physically jumps, when he hears the bathroom door open down the hallway, dropping your book onto your couch, him following it to make it look like he gotten comfy.

You move back into the lounge, seeing Ken has taken his place on your couch, you smile soflty before shaking your head and moving behind where hes sat. "Hey, do you know how to drink? Like.. water?"

Ken jumps, again, not expecting you to be that close. He nodded, a little too quick, before turning to look over his shoulder at you. "Oh uh, yeah, Barbie taught me."

Your eyes can't help but linger all over his face before you blinked, composing yourself. "So.. would you like some water? Or.. if you don't want water i have uhm.. I have juice? Do you know what juice is? I actually–"

And you started to ramble, your eyes anywhere but his. He watched. He admired. His heart pounded.

Fingers that belonged to you tapped along the back of the couch, something he had learnt you did when trying to focus and trying not to get distracted. The thought that he was the subject of your distractions made his insides twirl.

"You're so pretty." He swooned.

"Wh–What?" You stammered.

Both you and Ken froze, staring down at him as he stared up at you. The silence grew, comfortable or not? You couldn't decide yet.

He called you pretty, and he meant it. He's a ken, of course he meant it.

Your eyes eventually slipped over to your sketchbook and right then did you connect the dots. A wave of heat and embarrassment flooded over you.

It's Ken. Obviously he would try and find anything that gave him a hint to you liking him back. He was lucky enough that you poured your heart and soul into art.

"You looked through my sketchbook?" You swallowed, sheepish, you didn't even think about the violation of privacy, your thoughts were overwhelmed by those shiny, blue eyes of his.

"I wouldn't say looked through... i would say opened it, looked at all the pages and then closed it again." He didn't want to mentioned the part where he hugged it tight.

A sigh fell from your lips and you pinched the bridge of your nose. "That's the same–"

"You like me." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. A fact. You did like him. You were attracted to the handsome, bleach blonde ken-doll.

"I do." You agreed, dipping your head, staring at your hands.

"Does that mean we're boyfriend–girlfriend now?" "Woah–What!?" Ken winced at your reaction, not expecting such shock from you.

"Well you like me, I like you. Doesn't that mean I'm your boyfriend?" A brow on his expression raised, like it should be that simple.

You stood there and thought for a moment.

Ken, your boyfriend. That sounds like what your life is supposed to be. You want to see that dopey smile everyday. You wanted to wake up in the same bed as him. You wanted to kiss him.

Does it matter if you only met him a few weeks ago? No. If anything you were just glad you got the chance.

The sound of your name shattered you from your thoughts, bringing your attention to the doll on your couch, kneeling while you stood behind the back. Looking up at you from his place there, his eyes seemed to have a pretty shine to them.

"I guess that is usually how it works here..." you mumbled.

Your fingers twitched and you couldn't help yourself. Ken's eyes widened when he felt your hand cup the back of his neck, sliding up and threading through his bleach-blonde hair.

"You're really pretty too, Ken." Your voice was a whisper.

A beat passed.

"Is it normal for my human insides to feel... warm?" He tilted his head, melting into the touch of your fingers in his hair.

A laugh escaped you, "Yep. It's what happens when you have a big fat crush on someone." You teased.

"What do i do with a crush?" He looked up at you with those puppy-dog eyes and you nearly exploded out of cuteness aggression. You swear you feel your jaw tensing.

"You kiss them." You smile, he gasps, "like i tried with Barbie when I was her boyfriend? I get to kiss you? On your lips?"

"You get to kiss me anywhere you want." A second after you said that you cringed a little, cheeks tinting pink as you realised how that sounded.

Ken, however, was absolutely drowning in excitement. His eyes landed on your lips, they looked soft and utterly kissable. His tummy tingled.

"Wait, wait– Ken." You spoke firmly. "We... need to set some boundaries."

"Boundaries? Like rules?" "Yup." You nodded. "Okay then..." He also nodded.

"Okay.. so if we're gonna be boyfriend and girlfriend, I need to establish that we are not having sex until we have dated for at least a month." You cupped his cheeks, making sure he was paying attention.

"What's...sex?" Oh shucks. You forgot about that part.

"Anything past kissing, making out, cuddling and showering together, basically."

"Why? Is sex a bad thing–" "Let's stop with the sex questions! Please..? I'll teach you about it when the time comes. For now, we keep it mild, okay, Ken?"

And just like that, boundaries were set.

You stepped around your couch to sit beside him. "So we're boyfriend and girlfriends?" When you agreed he fist bumped the air with a grin, making you smile.

This wouldn't be so bad.

"So... I'm gonna show you how to kiss, for reals." "For reals?" "For reals." "Yay!"

Heat easily rose to your face at how excited he was. "I'm going go be such a good boyfriend–you won't even know what to do about all the love I'm gonna giv– mfhh-"

Well that shut him up. Ken's eyes were blown wide after your hands held his cheeks, yours and his' lips locking together.

He didn't know what to do but his heart was for sure going to explode.

"Hm, just feel it–mmfh–and go with what you feel inside." You ate his surprised noises while your noses slotted perfectly against eachother, palms squeezing his

Go with what you feel inside. Simple enough, right? All he feels is heat, tingling and a weak ache down below... how to turn that into actions? He has no idea.

At least his eyes were closed, clearly enjoying it. His lips were delicate and felt so good against your own.

You let out a faint "hmh-!" when you felt his hands nervously wrap around your wrists, holding your own hands on his face as you kissed.

With someone like Ken, you expected a certain kind of romantic charm, especially with the way he easily stole your heart. In reality he was just as fidgety as you, his heart jumping and his mouth desperate against your own.

You appreciated that about him. It meant he'd eagerly be vulnerable around you. Maybe even submissive.

And as you kissed him silly on your couch, you could see yourself with him forever. Through thick and thin. Lesson through lesson.

He was thinking the exact same. From the moment he first met you and resisted telling you how much he loved you right there on that plastic beach, he wanted to give you all the loving that's possible to give.

Both of your hands laced together as the kiss seemed to deepen, when he let out a cute whine that's when you forced yourself to pull away.

Gosh his eyes are gorgeous.

"I love you, Ken, so much." A smile appeared on your face at his expression. He looked at you like you were the only person in both the real world and Barbieland.

"I love you with my entire body and I will do anything i can to keep you away from everything bad in this world. If that includes sex... then I will hit them with my fist–"

"No- Ken, that's not.." you sighed while the corner of your lips curled up. "I appreciate it."

New achievement unlocked; beach-blonde, handsome Ken-doll acquired.

╚═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════╝

Extra notes: sorry if this isn't long enough 😖😖 edit: I finally proof read it 🥹

₊˚‧

Taglist: @avocado-writing @cosmicyeehaw @stxrrrdusttt @pixiebuggz @lauuispunk @marstheflower16 @ken-dom @qardasngan @wonhyucks

There were two things Ryland loved more than anything in this world: molecular biology, and getting fucked to oblivion. Nothing brought him more joy than these two things, and right now, getting fucked was fighting for that top spot.

“F-fuuuuck,” Ryland whined as you thrusted into him. He was lying on his back as his dick kept pumping out precum all over his stomach.

You’d been edging him for a while now, not letting him cum for the fifth time the session. He was starting to babble nonsense after the third time you pulled out and didn’t let him cum, but now he was really starting to lose it.

“You love it when I fuck you, Ry? Get you so horny you can’t even think?” You teased. You knew he could barely answer you at this point.

“Uh-huh,” he moaned, “love it ‘s muchhh,” he slurred his words. His eyes were half lidded as he looked up at you, his expression frozen in pleasure.

“If only you could see yourself right now… you look so pretty for me like this.”

Ryland’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, your praise sending electric shocks all over his body. His dick twitched for what seemed like the millionth time, it was red and desperate for attention.

“Fuck me ‘fr-ever,” he mumbled and gripped the sheets underneath him. You chuckled at the state he was in, too fucked out to make any sense.

“Yeah? It feels so good you want me to fuck you forever?” Your voice was low.

Ryland nodded and opened his eyes to look at you, “want you to- oh god,” he moaned.

“What do you want, baby? Use your words.”

“Want you t-to cum inside me,” his voice was so high he was almost squealing. “Wanna have ‘yr babies,” he looked like he was on the verge of tears, practically begging.

Oh, this was new. You don’t think you ever heard him say something like this before, but it didn’t stop your body from getting excited at his words. The fact you couldn’t do either of the things he asked were irrelevant to the both if you at the moment. You leaned forward, “you wanna be full of my cum?”

Ryland moaned so loud you thought he could be heard from down the street. “S-so full! Please!”

“No one else can fuck you like this, right Ryland? Have you begging for their cum, huh?” You sped up your thrusts, earning sweet sound from the blonde man.

“Please! I- I can’t- gonna cu… gonna cum!” He whimpered, warning you that he’s dangerously close.

You wrapped your hand around his leaking dick and began pumping him, making his gasp. “Gonna put a fucking baby in you? Yeah? For taking me so well?”

He thought he might pass out, that was the hottest thing he ever heard and he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Ryland came all over the place. Moaning, whimpering, crying, it felt like he actually died and made it to heaven. He wanted his orgasm to continue forever, his body flushed with waves of pleasure he never wanted to end.

“Oh my god…” he sighed once it was over, letting you know to pull out and lie next to him. The two of you caught your breaths for a minute before speaking.

“Sorry I couldn’t… actually put a baby in you,” you joked, not knowing if Ryland was even conscious enough to respond.

Ryland bounced on Oliver’s cock on the floor of the dim living room to the dull beat of the music playing in the other room. At least he was pretty sure this was Oliver. Maybe he’d been the last guy. 

“Jesus, where did you find this guy?” somebody said, awed. 

“You know how freshman are, man,” Maybe-Oliver crowed, loosely holding Ryland’s hips as he languidly fucked up into him. Ryland was slightly drunk but not enough to make him sloppy; he was doing that well enough on his own. He panted and ground down, breaking the rhythm. He couldn’t help it. 

Somebody grabbed his jaw and he opened automatically, tongue out, ready to receive. They shotgunned into his mouth and he coughed a bit but managed to get most of it. 

“Fucking move, Charlie, it’s my turn,” a female voice demanded. 

Not Oliver, then. 

Ryland found himself flat on his back buried in someone new while another person held his arms over his head. He opened his eyes and forced them to focus on who was straddling him and was surprised when he recognized her. Oh. Jess. They had a class together. Her dark hair fell around her face as she rode him and Ryland never wanted her to stop. 

“Dude, what's his fuckin’ name?” someone wondered. 

“Who cares?” 

“Don’t be a dick. I think his name’s Ryan.”

Somebody tapped his cheek. “Hey, what's your name?” they snickered, apparently finding the mystery very funny. 

Ryland could only moan as Jess squeezed him with her walls. 

A warm mouth closed over his nipple and sucked and Ryland whimpered, tossing his head to the side as the feeling went straight to his cock. 

“Oh, he likes that,” someone said. A tongue flicked his pert nipple and whoever it was mouthed at him messily, smearing his chest with saliva. 

The group in the next room was howling along to Mr. Brightside; Ryland could feel the bass through the floor. 

“Jess, get off or he’s gonna come,” a guy growled. 

Nonononono, Ryland thought frantically. He tried grabbing Jess’s hips but forgot someone was holding his arms. He whined piteously as he slid out of her, cock flopping wetly against his stomach and smearing slick. 

“Let’s get him on the couch.”

Ryland felt himself being hauled bodily onto the couch and sat upright. He spread his legs, silently begging someone to touch him, need pounding through him like a heartbeat. He didn't have to wait long. Somebody started stroking him hard and fast and he moaned so loudly a hand clamped over his mouth. Ryland bucked his hips unhelpfully, fouling up the rhythm of the person trying to get him off. 

A strong arm pushed against his abdomen to pin him in place. “What a slut,” a woman, maybe Jess, huffed. His mouth was freed so someone could kiss him and he reciprocated desperately. He was wound so tight; he could feel himself about to snap. 

Then the hand on his cock disappeared and somebody laughed. Tears ran down Ryland’s face. He was so worked up that his overheated brain simply resorted to crying. 

“You guys are fuckin' mean,” a female voice, definitely not Jess, snapped. She slipped her lips around Ryland and took him all the way down, her throat fluttering around him and he burst, spurting uncontrollably as she worked him expertly. Ryland’s head fell back at the intensity of it; his savior guided him to the other side and popped off when he started to squirm. She kissed his cheek and went away and Ryland languished against the cushions, breathing like he’d run a marathon. 

Someone touched his shoulder. “Hey, you good, man? You done?”

Ryland crashed his lips into whoever was asking the question, pawing at them and trying to get their hands on him. They chuckled against his mouth. “Okay.” 

They took him to his hands and knees on the couch and he felt a large tip start to breach him; his cock gave an interested twitch. He’d probably be hard again in a minute. The person behind him leaned over his sweaty back and whispered in his ear. “Hold on, princess.” 

“For science!” Adrian chimes in, “you are first humans we’ve known, we want to study everything.”

“You watch Rocky eat, this seems like fair trade,” Rocky states, tapping a claw against the sand. You choke out a laugh, willing the heat in your cheeks to dissipate. “Sorry,” you start, glancing at Ryland to see the pink dusting his cheeks, “you want to watch us… have sex?”

“Yes, observe sex,” Adrian settles a little further down, tilting their carapace toward Rocky. “I know is private ritual,” he hums, “but could be good data to have.”

Ryland nods slowly, staring at his knees while he thinks. Finally, he sighs and faces you, “we would ask the same thing if we were in their position.” He purses his lips, biting back a grin at the shocked look you shoot him. “You’re thinking about it?” You ask, disbelief coating your words. 

He laughs, throwing himself back to lay in the sand. “I’m just saying I don’t think it’s such a crazy thing to ask.” He gestures to the aliens next to him, “like, they’re hundreds of years old, they’re intelligent beings, they’ve got a brand new species of equally intelligent life living in a terrarium on their planet, surely they’d want to know.” He lifts his head just enough to look at you, trying to gauge your reaction to his thoughts. 

Before you can form a response, Rocky stands proudly. “Rocky already heard all noises on ship, human mating very loud.”

You groan, kicking Ryland’s leg when he lets out a belly laugh at that. “Can’t you just like, watch porn on your laptop?” You’re grasping at straws at this point. “No,” Rocky says immediately, “Grace said porn isn’t realistic. Rocky want to see real thing.” Ryland laughs again, covering his face with his hands, “I did say that.” He peeks at you over his fingers, snorting when you roll your eyes and flop into the sand beside him. 

“Hey,” he turns his head to you, “only if you’re comfortable with it.” You think for a moment, trying to find a reason to deny the advancement of science other than sheer embarrassment. “It does feel a little like we’re zoo animals,” you sigh.

“We are zoo animals,” he whispers, hand finding yours, “but we have a choice.” His thumb strokes over your knuckles, “besides, they could learn so much about our biology, think of the studies they’ll be able to do with a few samples from us.” 

“Samples?!” Your eyes go wide, “you’re already thinking about jerking off in a cup for them?” He turns away with a cackle, “they’re already studying our bodies,” a quick point to a bruise on his arm from the most recent blood draw, “why wouldn’t they want to learn about reproduction? They already know how it works, we tag-teamed so many of those conversations on Mary.”

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut like you can make the conversation end if you can’t see any of them. “Come on,” Ryland whispers against your cheek, “let’s be guinea pigs.” The grin he cracks is thrilling, like he’s finally living out a fantasy he didn’t know he had. “You’re a fucking nerd,” you breathe quietly, smiling when he buries his face in your neck. “Is that a yes?” 

“Yes, fine, we can do it,” you mumble, laughing when he throws a fist in the air and turns to Rocky and Adrian, still sitting quietly beside him. “Okay, we’re in,” he’s all business suddenly, “how do you want this to work?” 

“Just want to watch, we go now?” Rocky stands and starts heading in the direction of your little house. “Wha - now, now?” You stammer out, eyes flying to Ryland when he stands and offers a hand to help you up. “Yes, now,” Adrian answers, launching into a list of positions they researched and ranking which ones they wanted to see the most. 

—-------

The house is quiet, late afternoon light filling the space with a nice glow. You stand nervously in the bedroom, watching as Rocky and Adrian make themselves comfortable on a bench Ryland dragged in. You set your boundaries on the walk back: the Eridians wouldn’t talk, if either of you were uncomfortable at any point you’d stop, Ryland wasn’t allowed to teach while actively fucking you. All the normal stuff.

He sidles up to you slowly, hands coming to rest on your waist. “Really? A cuck bench?” You laugh, gesturing to the other side of the room. He laughs too, winking while he draws closer, “a scientific, observational cuck bench.” He stops before he kisses you, “just focus on me,” he breathes against your lips, feeling your body release a little tension at his proximity. 

You melt into him when he finally presses his lips to yours, trying to push your nerves to the back of your mind. Ryland takes his time, kisses you slowly, passionately, like he’s trying to draw out every insecurity from your body, like he wants you to enjoy it with him. Gentle fingers slide under your shirt, spreading over the warm expanse of your back. He pulls you against him tighter, groaning quietly when you roll your hips against his. 

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers in your ear, teeth nipping the sensitive skin below it. You tilt your head to give him more access, breath hitching at the way he sucks marks on your neck. You can already feel his erection against you, pressing insistently as he sinks his hands under the waistband of your pants, fingers squeezing the plush flesh of your ass. You palm him through his sweatpants, feeling him shiver against you when you get the pressure just right. 

He chokes on a whine, pulling away from your neck just long enough to get his shirt off. Your hands trace over the expanse of his stomach, you can’t help but admire the extra weight he’s put on. He grins against your lips, big hands cupping your face before he’s moving to pull your shirt off too. 

The cool air against your skin suddenly reminds you that you’re not alone. Ryland feels the tension return to your frame, shifting so your back is to the aliens in the corner. He strokes your arms and kisses you soundly, his tongue claiming yours in an attempt to keep you in the moment with him. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs under his breath, feeling the goosebumps that raise under his fingers. “Cold, sweetheart?” His smile makes your heart skip again, he looks at you like you hung the moon. You nod and he twists his mouth like he’s thinking of the best way to warm you up. “Want me to help?” He’s teasing now, clearly getting a thrill out of making you grin despite yourself. 

“Lay down for me,” he kisses you again for good measure. You climb on the bed, laying against the pillows while he sheds his pants with a wink. “Love you,” he whispers into your skin as he works his way up your body. You arch enough to let him unhook your bra, accepting the deep kisses he gives you when he throws it to the ground. 

A soft moan makes its way out of your throat when he licks down your neck and chest, slowly working his way to your breasts. He looks up at you from under his lashes when he takes a nipple in his mouth, eyelids fluttering when you stroke a hand through his hair. He sucks on your breasts like it’s his job, drawing out sounds from you that are almost embarrassing in current company. 

When you tug his hair with a murmur of his name, he groans, tongue vibrating against your sensitive nub and pulling a whimper from you. He pulls off with a pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your nipple. The sight sends a shock to your core, your hips rolling against him and head tilting back. He smirks to himself, shifting so he can get your pants and underwear off. 

He sits back on his knees and takes you in. Soft hands lift your leg, his lips leaving sweet kisses from your ankle to your knee. He lays flat, dark eyes locked on your pussy, not even trying to hide the growl that claws its way out of him. Seconds tick by with no additional contact, you reach for him, tugging his hair again. 

“Please, Ry,” you whisper, moaning when he licks a stripe up your core like that’s all he was waiting for. The first taste has him groaning against you, his eyes rolling back and fingers flexing on your thighs. “S’ good,” he whines into you, pressing your legs further apart.

You throw your head back, grinding your hips when he bumps your clit with his nose. It’s a little exhilarating knowing that you’re being watched in such a vulnerable position. Ryland between your legs, slowly taking you apart with his tongue, encouraging you to take what you need. And it doesn’t help that Ryland seems to be working twice as hard as normal, like he’s trying to show off to aliens who don’t know any different.

You feel a hand leave your leg and soft fingers prod your entrance. He looks up at you without breaking his rhythm, waiting for permission that you give quickly, willingly. You feel more than see the smile that pulls at his lips, then he pushes in and squeezes his eyes shut. “Oh, baby,” he groans into your skin, “so tight, so warm. This all for me?” Your breath hitches, you love his mouth in these moments. 

“Just for you, Ryland,” you moan, back arching when he slides a second finger in. He growls again, speeding up his movements and chasing your release like it already belongs to him. A curl of his fingers has you bucking into his hand, spreading your slick against his chin and cheek. You clench down, guiding his head to exactly where you need him to tighten the coil in your stomach. 

He flicks his tongue and sucks just right, staring up at you with wide eyes as he feels you building. Little groans of, “mhm, mhm,” fall from his lips, spurring you towards the edge. A gasp pulls from your throat and your whole body tenses, heat rolling through you in waves. You grind against his face, feel him lick up your release as it spills around his fingers still nudging that spot inside you. 

You flop down in the bed, breath coming in harsh pants, and take a second to assess your body. Your legs were tingling, vision a little fuzzy, core spasming as Ryland slowly pulls out. He stays where he is, pressing kisses to your thighs and hips, whispering praise until he sees your face relax fully. When you reach for him, he moves quickly. 

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling when you let out a small sound. “Doing okay?” He asks against your jaw, fingers intertwining with yours and lifting above your head. “Yeah,” you breathe, “I could go for another one.” It’s your turn to wink at him.

“I can get back down there if you want,” he teases, licking into your mouth when you laugh. “Mm, Ry, I wanna come with you,” you hold his face with your free hand, thumb swiping against his cheek gently. That sweet pink shows itself on his skin again, making you giggle as he drops his weight into you. 

“I think we can make that happen,” he groans, shoving his boxers off with one hand and kneeing your legs farther apart. You spread easily, so wrapped up in the man above you that you forget there’s been an audience here the whole time. 

He wastes no time, slotting his tip against your entrance with a whimper against your shoulder. You roll your hips just right, feeling him slip in. He shudders above you, “sl-slow baby,” he begs, “y’ got me so worked up.” A sharp nip lands on your neck, causing your head to drop back again with a moan.

“Love those noises you make, so sexy,” he’s talking to distract from the fact that he’s not moving. “Can feel you squeezing me already, god, you’re amazing,” he slides in another inch, gasping and groaning when he feels your walls give way for him. “Oh- oh baby, fuck.”

You try to relax, try to make it easier for him, but the sounds falling from him are so hot, you can’t help the occasional clench that rocks you both. It takes him a while to push all the way in, he does everything he can to keep it together when he bottoms out and you gasp right in his ear. He’s not usually so sensitive, you briefly wonder if being watched is doing it for him that much. He did agree to it pretty quickly, after all. 

He gives a testing thrust, panting above you with the effort. You roll your hips when he finds a rhythm, feeling how he squeezes your hand still in his above your head. He builds speed, practically fucking you into the mattress with the depth of each thrust. You’re a mess beneath him, moaning and gasping, head tossing and turning, free hand sinking nails into his back and neck. 

A steady string of “yes, yes, yes,” punches out of him, like he couldn’t keep the words in if he tried. Without breaking his pace, his big hand grabs the back of your thigh, heaving it up towards your chest. The new angle makes your eyes roll back, his cock reaching deeper and deeper. A growl rips from his throat, low tones vibrating against your chest. You hug him to you tighter, taking everything he gave you with barely concealed elation. 

He feels you clench around him particularly hard, feels how close you’re getting. He releases your hand to grab your other leg, pushing it up to match the other one. The position pushes the air out of your lungs, your legs shaking under his hold. “Give it to me, sweet girl,” he rumbles, “come on my cock, baby.”

You slip a hand down to where you’re connected, gathering some slick and rubbing your clit in rough circles. Your fingers brushing against his length almost makes him cum, he whimpers into the air and grits hit teeth to stave it off. 

The sensations build, your body going taut as you finally crest the wave. A broken cry rips from your throat, legs shaking against his strong hold. It shatters through your whole body, heat and sparks for what feels like an eternity before you can suck in a breath. You clamp down on him and it tips him right over, a loud groan signalling his end before you feel warmth flood your walls. 

He fucks you through it, dropping your legs in favor of leaning forward and kissing you messily. It's all teeth and tongue, he’s practically drooling into your open mouth. Your body relaxes against the sheets again, letting him press you into the mattress with grounding weight. He places sloppy kisses all over your face and neck, eyes half lidded in his own daze. 

“Jesus, okay,” he laughs with his face hidden, “I was really into that.” A surprised laugh bubbles out of you, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift him up where you can see him. “I could tell,” you smile at his blush, “it’s been a while since you went for a mating press.” He grins into your palm, “Adrian mentioned it and I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he sighs, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your thumb.

He rubs your side soothingly, turning his head to Rocky and Adrian, “you guys, uh - you got what you needed?” You look over to see them stand, stepping off the bench like normal. “Rocky has questions, statement.” 

You and Ryland burst into giggles, “yeah, of course. Just give us a few minutes to clean up?” They amble towards the door, “Rocky, Adrian wait on beach, have much to discuss.”

You don’t have a chance to ask what that means before they’re gone. Ryland turns back to you slowly, “I know they don’t have anything to compare that to, but is it weird I wanted to impress them?” He looks shy, like he can’t believe that just happened. “They’re actually talking right now about how much of a beast Grace is in bed,” you laugh, squeezing his cheeks when he goes bright red. 

He groans and rolls off of you, covering his face with a pillow. “You’re never gonna let me live this down,” it comes out muffled but you hear it anyway. You shift to lay against his side, “hey, I was as much of an eager participant as you were.”

“Besides,” you skim your fingers over his chest, “it was kinda hot, seeing you so lost in it.”

“Lost in it?” He snorts, pulling the pillow away. “Mhm,” you hum, “like you were drunk on me.” He grips you tightly with both hands, sliding you up his body until he can kiss you properly. 

“We should ask them to make alcohol so we can do that again tipsy,” he whispers against your lips, smiling when you push his head away with a laugh. “Adrian’s got more positions they want to see, anyway.”

-------------

Not to say that forty year old science teachers can’t bounce on it. In fact, from where you are, more of them definitely should. It’s one hell of a view you have: sweat drips down between his pectoral muscles in a delightfully lickable line, his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and his head rolls back so that you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he moans.

Yeah, it’s great from down here.

The strap he’s fucking himself on is a girthy six inches, and it’s a pleasure to watch the purple silicone disappear inside him with every thrust. There’s a little nub inside which presses on your clit just right as he goes, inching you closer to your orgasm with every luscious movement of his hips.

Oh, he is stunning. He is goddamn perfect.

“Fuck…” he chokes as the head of your dick hits his prostate and his cock leaks pre onto your stomach in a pearlescent line.

“Uh-huh,” you agree. The two of you are too fucked out to communicate clearly. It’s mostly just noises of appreciation and that’s just fine.

“I’m… I can’t…”

“Can’t what, honey?”

“Can’t keep going…” it’s said almost regretfully, like he wants to stave off his release for as long as possible so he can keep enjoying this. Your hands have been holding his hips so tightly that divots have formed, but you begin to rub comforting circles into his skin with your thumbs.

“Finish for me, handsome, go on.”

“Oh-hh-hh fuck,” he manages, and then suddenly his eyes are open and his gaze fixed solely on you, blue eclipsed with black from his lust. He’s suddenly working double time, his pert ass slapping lewdly against your harness as he speeds up.

Then he says something crazy, because that’s what happens when you’re caught up in a moment where you’re more horny than sensible.

“Put- a- baby- in- me,” he begs, punctuating the gaps between words with bounces. Your eyes go wider than his and your grip turns iron-tight as you start to control his pace, making him go even harder, making your clit get even more pressure.

“Yeah. Yeah Ry, gonna knock you up. Get you pregnant. Everyone’s gonna know who you belong to, ‘cause you’re mine.”

You lock eyes. For a second, both of you are convinced you can actually do it.

Ryland’s cock spurts with so much force it hits both you and him in the face. His shaky aftershocks move the strap just right and you’re pretty sure you flood the mattress when you come.

He collapses onto you, mewling as your cockhead hits his overused prostate. The two of you just lie in a sticky mess for a while as your breathing syncs and calms.

“In hindsight, I know that was a pretty wild thing to say. Sorry for not clearing it with you,” he mutters from where his face is tucked into your neck. You laugh.

“That’s okay, it was hot. I am aware you don’t have a womb though, so carrying a baby would be pretty difficult.”

Then you'd spent time around them. Their kindness was obvious: Primo's grim-faced but soft guidance, Terzo's easy charm and flirty smile. When you met Copia you knew the claim about monstrosity was all lies - how could a man as gently bumbling as him be that?

Then Perpetua came, and you understood. It wasn't that they were monsters inside. It was that, when one is a satanic pope, there is a blurring of the line between the human and the demonic. Perhaps monster was wrong. Creature was more apt.

Perpetua's claws and fangs gave him away, the gangliness of his limbs, and after you noticed it was impossible not to see it in the other Papas. The way Primo's eyes were just a little too dark when talking to a Sibling, like shadows were flitting about his sclera. The rows of teeth Terzo had when he smiled, shark-like, that he'd gnash playfully at the objects of his desire who'd giggle in delight.

And Secondo, your Secondo, the man who'd stolen your heart with his sincerity and patient gentlemanliness, his creature-secret was the most surprising.

It had taken you a while to adjust to what he fucked you with. You'd been a little terrified at first, eyes wide and breath caught in your throat as you took him out of his underwear, that first night when you had him laid back on your bed. Secondo was pragmatic to a fault. When he saw your reaction and told you that you didn't have to make love to him, he'd seemed so resigned that it had hurt your heart. Had he a history of lovers turning him away when they found the truth of him? No, you wouldn't let that be you: instead you’d kissed the tip of it and had him sucking air in through his teeth before he grabbed your wrists and pinned you beneath his bulk. You’d welcomed him inside and he wrung four orgasms out of you that first night.

You grew accustomed. You grew enthusiastic. Right now, Secondo has you up on the counter, the tentacle that makes up his cock writhing and spiralling, desperately seeking the hole it wants to fill. You cannot stare at it for too long, an oddly eldritch thing which hurts the psyche, but you know it's oil-spill shiny black, oozy with ichor which acts as lubricant. Secondo tilts your chin up.

"Eyes on me, angelo mio," he hums, running a gloved thumb across your cheek. The tip of the tentacle finds your entrance and surges forward all at once, sucking Secondo's hips with it until he is flush against you and it is buried deep inside. You yowl in surprise and pleasure as it twists, snaking its way deep into your guts, pushing against your walls in a way which has you reeling.

"Oh, Secondo--!" you cry out, and he begins to rut into you, his teeth bared in a snarl of ecstasy.

"That's it, angelo mio. Take it. Take me."

His cock pulls out to the tip and slams back inside, joyously animated as it coats you with its arousal. It finds that spot you delight in so much and rubs against it with purpose, Secondo desperate to make your orgasm as quickly as he can. The first one loosens you up and then he can really start to have his fun.

His hand drops between your legs and begins to work where his cock can't. Another snarl and he snatches your lips in a passionate kiss, meaning you moan into his mouth as you come undone around his wriggling cock. He grins and bites your bottom lip just hard enough to draw blood, making you dizzy and light-headed.

∘₊✧ Sierra Six

Six holds you down with his big, strong hands. He talks you through it, firm but quiet, his whispered voice cracking under the strain of how turned on he is — but he won’t pay any attention to his own needs when you haven’t experienced this before and he gets to be the first to show you such pleasures. There’s something about the responsibility of it that thrills him endlessly. No one will ever do it as good as him, and he wants to make damn sure you know that. He makes you feel completely secure, but also like there’s only one way to end this, and that’s you cumming over and over on his tongue and fingers until he’s satisfied he’s taught you enough of how good it can feel. He doesn’t even care whether you’re coherent enough to see to his needs after, that’s unimportant right now — he just wants to make you feel good.

∘₊✧────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Holland March

Holland smirks when he finds out you’ve never been eaten out before. Not because it’s funny, but because he’s smug. And why is he so smug, you might ask? Because this is where Holland really gets the chance to shine. He’s very good with his hands, but depending on how much he’s had to drink or how distracted he is by a case or how his grief is hitting him that day, his dick doesn’t always work the way he wants it too. It’s complicated. But he still always wants to satisfy you, so get his head between your legs, with a last puff of his cigarette for good luck, the smoke swirling over your glistening folds, and he goes to town. And he won’t stop until your fingers are tugging at his hair and your thighs are clamped around his head for at least the second or third time. You’ll never feel anything like Holland’s tongue. It’s magic.

∘₊✧────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Lars Lindstrom

Lars is nervous, because it’s his first time, too. But he’s glad you’re on this journey of intimacy together, and the trust he has for you surpasses any worries he might feel about getting it wrong or simply not being good at it. More than anything, Lars wants to please you, so when he dips between your thighs, careful fingers brushing over your slicked skin, he uses his fingers to expose your clit and leans in, starting slow. But god is it heavenly. His tongue is so delicate, so precise, he has you gripping the bedsheets in tight fists, crying out his name as he laps carefully but perfectly at your bundle of nerves. Your back arches as he changes pace, tries different pressures and directions… oh he’s a natural and you would beg for him to do this again — only you won’t need to because Lars gets a real taste for making you squirm for his tongue and his touch.

∘₊✧────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Ryland Grace

Ryland considers your inexperience with receiving oral sex carefully before he makes a move in that direction. He doesn’t consider you an experiment, but he likes to keep track of exactly how to please you, and experiment with what works, and therefore what else might satisfy you. He’s obsessed with your pleasure. He knows you love his fingers, that you’d have him pumping his thick middle finger into your soaked pussy knuckle deep every single night if you could, and he always obliges when the time comes. So he starts there, fucking into you with those precise fingers, using exactly the right formula to get you off so good. But just as he gets you going this time, he stops. Expecting your protest, he nervously brings his slick coated finger to his mouth and sucks it clean, moaning around it, his eyes sliding shut. ‘Mmh… please can I taste you?’ he begs, long eyelashes fluttering under your surprised gaze. ‘I’ve done the math and I think you’ll like it...’ And really, how could anyone say no to that? 

∘₊✧────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Colt Seavers

Making out with Colt is always messy. Sex is messy. When he’s lost in kissing you, it’s sloppy and needy — and while sloppy would usually equate to gross, this is anything but. Colt’s handsy and passionate and his hair is always a mess by the end of the night (as is yours thanks to him), he licks and he bites (gently), and there are clothes strewn all over multiple rooms. You can’t even remember half the positions you’ve been in because it’s so fluid and free with him; he finds it exhilarating to pleasure you and just lets all the tensions of life go when he’s buried inside. So the thought of being the first to make you unravel with his tongue has him particularly excited. He’ll take you for a romantic drive, finding somewhere to demonstrate a few donuts, park up looking pleased with himself and kiss you fiercely, then check it’s okay before eating you like a starved man. You’ll have one foot on the steering wheel, the other leg hooked over his shoulders, underwear lost somewhere in the footwell that he’ll find tomorrow. But right now your pussy is all he’s interested in and he’s starved of it.

∘₊✧────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Driver

As if his kisses aren’t sensual enough, Driver’s oral skills don’t stop at getting you both close to orgasm  (or in some cases for him, reaching orgasm) with just his tongue brushing against yours. So imagine his face when you’re making out, hot and heavy, and he begins to press his lips to your neck, unfasten your shirt, push lower… and as you realise where he’s headed you breathe out, ‘Wait- I’ve never done this before-’ Driver freezes, tilts his head up at you, and his sparkling eyes widen for a moment. He tilts his head and you know it’s a silent question; Do you want to? You nod. He resumes. And let’s just say he’s not the only one cumming hard while his lips are on you tonight.

∘₊✧────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Henry Letham

Henry takes his time. He’s in no hurry. He asks casually if you’ve ever cum on somebody’s tongue before and when you say no, he just looks away, thoughtful. ‘You wanna?’ he asks after another drag of his cigarette, still not looking at you while he waits patiently for your answer. And when it comes, affirming that you do want to, with him, he huffs out some vague acknowledgement, stubs out the remainder of his cigarette, faces you, and with the most gentle hands, lays you back. He removes your clothes like he’s making a work of art just by revealing your body, and his lips on your bare skin are hungry and desperate and filled with passion for this particular piece. He fingerfucks you first, preparing you as he watches your pussy take his slim digits, licking his lips before leaning in and finishing you with the most thorough strokes of his tongue. He slows as you breathe through the aftershocks, and then he sits back in his previous position against the wall, pants feeling a little tighter, leaving you to recover beside him as he lights up again. You’re dying to know what he’ll ask you next.

∘₊✧────────────✧₊∘

∘₊✧ Luke Glanton

Luke wants you to feel special, as special as you are to him. He wants you, of course, but he also wants to make sure you feel ready. So after riding around on his motorbike, legs and arms clamped around his hips and chest, the vibration of the engine hitting your core in a way you didn’t expect, he can sense you’re turned on. He pulls over somewhere desolate, kneels beside his parked bike and pulls you around to face him, perched on the seat, before spreading your legs with his rough hands, pushing your underwear aside and burying his head under your skirt. It’s not long until you’re rutting back against his tongue, one hand tangled in his bleach blonde hair as the other grips the seat of his bike that you’re only half sitting on now, to keep yourself tethered. He comes up to kiss you when you’ve come undone for him; you taste so good he can’t keep it to himself. And then you ride back off into the night together.