They’ll Never Listen

“Mouth open, pup,” Noah’s voice is so soft, even as he tugs on your collar to make you look at him. “Treat time.”

You open your mouth obediently, eyes fixed on his own lips as they curl into a pleased smirk.

“Good girl,” he plucks a treat from the little box beside him, placing it onto your tongue gently. “Stay.”

You shift your weight, mouth watering slightly, but not making any moves to close it.

“That’s it,” he coos. “Eat your treat, pretty.”

You chew with a pleased hum, a subtle strawberry flavour spreading across your tongue mixed with something else you can’t quite place. It’s almost earthy, barely there.

He cups your cheek affectionately, and you turn your head to nuzzle against his open palm. His hands smell of pine, plain soap and the inescapable tang of sweat.

He doesn’t flinch when he feels your tongue against his skin, shaking his head in amusement. “Silly girl. My hands can’t possibly taste better than your treat.”

You hum again in response, closing your eyes and inhaling his scent deeply. A torturous sight for a man so easily undone by you, trying hard to maintain the control you’ve handed over to him.

It is through sheer audacious willpower that he manages to overcome the urges to take you then and there, allowing you to curl up by his feet instead. He wants you to feel the effects of the treat before he is to do anything.

His cock twitches in his pants when you whine softly, your eyes finding him in confusion as you begin to feel hazy.

“What…?” You murmur, sitting up again.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, hand coming to cup your cheek again, thumb brushing over your spit-slicked bottom lip.

The confusion on your face should not be so beautiful, the way your brows furrow and your lips pucker softly. Nobody’s army could drag him away from you now, not when you’re so pliant and trusting.

You focus on the bulge in his pants like a bloodhound would zero in on a scent.

“That wasn’t a normal treat, was it.” It’s not a question. You know, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when your head is fuzzy and all you can see is the outline of his cock through a fabric barrier.

“No, baby,” he lifts your chin up with the tip of his finger, leaning down to give you the ghost of a kiss that leaves you chasing for more when he pulls back.

Subconsciously, you know you should be more upset that he’s forced an edible into you, and a strong one considering the way your world is quickly narrowing down into you and him, everything else washing away in a heady wave of warmth.

“S’ beautiful like this,” he breathes. His free hand trails down to fiddle with his belt and zipper. “Want another treat? No surprises this time, pup.”

You nod and scramble to settle properly between his legs, clumsy, eager.

“Oh, so desperate to taste me, hm?”

You paw at his thighs in response, silently begging him to take the damn pants off. He chuckles and obliges, shimmying them down his legs along with his boxers until his cock springs out, hard and flushed.

You waste no time in leaning forward and taking the leaking tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it to clean up the slightly bitter liquid already coating your tastebuds.

He groans, one hand fisting into your hair immediately. “Fuuck, just like that. Good girl.”

You take him deeper, gagging as the thick head hits the back of your throat but not stopping. You’re determined to take it, always eager to please him.

His head tips back against the couch cushions, eyes screwing shut in bliss. “Keep going, that’s it, fuck-”

Humming around his length, you jerk off what you can’t fit in your mouth, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth.

He lets out another choked moan that turns into a hiss of overwhelmed pleasure, his cock twitching against your tongue.

“Shit, pup… g’na cum, keep going.”

It only takes a few more moments of your mouth on him before he’s spilling down your throat in hot, thick ropes that drip down your chin and paint your chest a pearly white.

You only let him go when you feel him softening in your mouth, twitching through the aftershocks. He stares down at you, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips.

“Was that nice, beautiful?” He rasps, watching the way you wipe your mouth.

“Mhmm,” you lean your cheek against his thigh. “My favourite.”

“Oh, puppy,” he chuckles. “I know.”

You sigh sleepily, licking your lips. You can feel yourself drifting off to somewhere even further as you stare up at him adoringly.

“Now, want me to take care of you?” He murmurs:

the man isn't completely inexperienced, but he certainly isn't used to having sex. he's only done it like once ever. so he probably needs guidance at first

but once he's got a solid grasp on the mechanics of it? ohhh BOY buckle in

he's not used to making decisions on his own so it's kind of a free-for-all. if you want to do it? sure, he will too! no kink is taboo for him because he has virtually No Idea what the social norms around sex are anyway

probably is very bad at communication at first. you have to drill the concept of consent into him several times before he gets comfortable enough to tell you when he wants to stop

the first time you guys have sex its literally insane to him. like for once he actually WANTS to do it and its amazing. he can't help but wonder how humans get literally anything done because they COULD be having awesome mind-blowing sex all the time!!

this does lead to him becoming a little sex-crazed for a while. wants to do it several times a day (and has the modified stamina to back it up). i'm talking when you wake up, before he goes to work, when he gets home, before you go to bed type shit.

he gets a little animalistic in bed i feel. because god it's the only time he feels completely and totally human. he's not a replicant, he's not an officer with a serial number, he's yours. and it makes him insane

probably quite noisy once he gets comfortable, low sounds deep in his chest

8.5 inches, keeps himself well-trimmed (like the rest of him)

his favorite thing in the world is getting head. i'm sorry. but it's one of the only times he can let himself be selfish. it's all for HIM

actually incredibly hygienic afterwards i can't lie (unless you convince him otherwise...cough cockwarming...)

Tiptoeing down the hallway to the bathroom, you glance across at his door. Not a peep. You’re quiet too – the last thing you want is to piss off your new roommate at just past midnight his first night in your apartment.

Something hard collides with your toes though, and you stumble, reaching for something – anything – to keep you from toppling unceremoniously onto the ground and waking him up with a loud, embarrassing bump right outside of his door.

Exhaling with relief at managing to keep yourself upright by grabbing his doorframe in the pitch dark, you glance down with a squint to see what you tripped over – a pair of bright pink high heeled shoes dropped in the middle of the corridor. Shoes you’ve never seen before in your life.

With wide eyes and burning cheeks, realisation hits you, with just a pinch of embarrassment sprinkled in as you hear faint but heavy breathing from the other side of the door.

You shove the shoes out of the way with your foot, rush to the bathroom and then right back to bed before accidentally coming face to face with Ken, or whoever he’s sharing his room with tonight, telling yourself that the uncomfortable clenching in your stomach is just uneasiness at a stranger being in the house and definitely not jealousy. Absolutely not.

Afterall, you barely know him, and he’s your roommate. You don’t have any desire to get mixed up in those kinds of complications. Plus you’d never set out any rules about house guests yet... that can be a conversation to worry about having tomorrow.

Flopping back into bed, you stare at your ceiling for at least an hour before drifting back off while your mind is in conflict.

The shoes are gone in the morning, and as you pass his room to leave, you hear Ken’s loud snores. The ones he’d warned you about when you interviewed him for the room. You’d told him you don’t mind, and actually find the sound of snoring kind of soothing. Ken had smiled.

Shaking your head at what a weird thing that probably was to say to a guy you’d be sharing your living space with in a very platonic way, you headed out for the day and planned to tackle the house guest topic later.

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‘How was your day? I can make you dinner? I’m actually not sure how to use that uh… hot metal box you put the food into, but…’

After greeting you like an excited puppy, Ken’s face changes quickly when he finally looks at you and sees the unimpressed expression pressing your lips tight together and pulling at your brow.

‘Ken, listen, we need to talk,’ you say carefully.

‘Oh? Okay. What do you wanna talk about? Did I… do something bad?’

You could swear there’s a hint of flirtiness in his voice but you shake it off, chastising yourself for framing what he said in a sexy way.

‘Well… kind of. No,’ you correct yourself quickly, ‘no, not really bad, but-’

‘Shall we sit down? This seems like one of those we need to talk talks, and I’ve noticed people usually sit down for those,’ Ken smiles, proud, as though he might have got something right.

‘Sure, Ken,’ you breathe, already exasperated. God. Did whoever he slept with last night get him into bed just to shut him up?

You can’t decide whether you hate his stupid, expectant smile or whether you want to kiss it off his face as you take a seat opposite him at the kitchen table.

‘Alright,’ you start, unable to look him in the eye, ‘I don’t mean to be nosy, but I know you had someone here last night. And that’s an okay thing in itself, but…’

‘Oh, I know what’s going on here,’ Ken interrupts, relaxing back on the little kitchen chair, his legs spread wide and his annoyingly perfect grin turning smug, ‘you don’t need to be jealous, baby. It was just a one time thing!’

Flustered, you take a steadying breath and prepare yourself to counter his unexpected yet bizarrely astute point.

It isn’t jealousy, you remind yourself, it absolutely is not.

‘No, Ken, I’m not jealous. It’s just that the one time thing you mentioned? That’s not really the etiquette on your first night as someone’s new roommate. I want this to be your home too, but I barely know you yet, I don’t want some random stranger in my apartment. At least let me get used to you being around before you invite one night stands over… does that seem fair?’

‘Oh.’ You’ve stumped him. He straightens, lacing his fingers together on the table top, deep in thought. ‘So I can’t have friends over to kiss with until you know me better?’

‘Friends? I thought it was a– hang on, what do you mean kiss?’

There’s so much to unpack from that one short question, you almost forget the reason you’ve started this conversation at all.

‘I mean I had a one night stand?’ Ken huffs a disbelieving laugh and your blood boils for a moment. ‘But, if that’s not the done thing when we don’t know each other well enough yet,’ he shrugs, it’s obnoxious, ‘tt’s cool, I get it.’

You heave a sigh of relief. That was easier (and only a little weirder) than you’d expected it to go. But the main thing was he wasn’t going to bring strangers into your home, at least for now.

‘Good. Alright. Well, why don’t we grab din- mmh-’

Ken all but throws the table separating you clattering to the floor as he lunges forward, pressing his lips to yours so aggressively your chair nearly tips backwards as you try to push him off.

‘Ken- K- please, Ken- KEN!’

You manage to prize him off you long enough to stand up, but before you can ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing, he backs you against the wall, trapping you with one arm around your waist and the other pressed to the wall beside your head, your chest flush with his.

‘What’s wrong, baby? I thought you wanted to get to know me?’

‘Not like that!’ you protest, finding it harder by the second to deny the heat pooling in your core.

But it’s wrong, you know it is. You can’t date your roommate – or worse, sleep with them once and then go on pretending like nothing happened.

‘Ken,’ you breathe to keep from raising your voice any further, ‘you were with someone less than twenty four hours ago, in my apartment, and now you’re doing-’ you wave a hand vaguely toward him in the small space you have, ‘whatever the hell this is?’ 

‘Yeah, and you want it, don’t you?’

He leans in, impossibly close now.

You feel your cheeks flush. ‘No. Ken, I… I think I’m going to have to ask you to find somewhere else to live. I don’t think this is going to wor-’

He silences you again with another bruising kiss. You mumble fruitlessly against his hot, wet lips, trying to escape, but he crowds somehow closer and you can’t get away. Your clamouring fingers find his biceps. They’re huge, bulging, and you know you won’t get past. He’s stronger than even he realises.

You whine, desperate. But for what?

The hand at your back slides around your waist, fingers plunging into the front of your jeans and you mumble a weak, ‘No,’ against his lips.

‘Can’t hear you over how hard my dick is,’ Ken mutters back, and you don’t even recognise how nonsensical that sentence is because his fingers push lower, sliding through your folds. You can feel how wet you are against them and blush; you wish the ground would swallow you whole, because you do actually want this, it feels far too good, but you don’t want to want it.

‘See? You’re dripping.’ Ken’s voice is low, sinister even, and it sends a jolt of excitement straight to where his finger is circling your slick bundle of nerves.

Jesus, Ken found the clit? You shake your head, trying to focus.

‘You know,’ he drawls, watching your face uncomfortably close, ‘one night stands aren’t enough for me. I like this far better.’

‘W-what is this?’ you manage, chest heaving as you try desperately not to satisfy him with a moan.

‘Well kissing is great but…’ his middle finger slips inside, fucking you excruciatingly slowly, ‘I much prefer this, don’t you?’

‘Mmhm,’ you nod, against your better judgement, immediately regretting your agreement, your mind clouded with unwelcome pleasure as you fight to find some clarity and challenge him. ‘Wait- wait, Ken, what do you m-mean- kissing? One night… ohhh-’

‘Never had a one night stand, baby?’ he drawls. ‘Well, you find someone you think might be impressed by your good looks, bring them home, kiss and go to sleep. It’s kind of magical, but it can be lonely.’

Fuck, he was unreal. How was it that this guy could be so aggressive, so forthcoming, so fucking creepy, but so dumb? How could he think kissing is a one night stand but finger you like a pornstar?

‘No- no, Ken, you don’t just kiss- mmh… nevermind…’

Your eyes close, your head drops back and you finally let yourself moan at how good it feels. You’re completely giving yourself to him, the roommate problem suddenly seeming small and far away. 

You’d asked him to move out anyway, and now he’s finger fucking you against the wall… it couldn’t really get any more messy than this, so whats the point of stopping now?

Ken slips his hand out of your jeans then and he steps back, satisfied with himself as he slowly sucks his fingers clean, humming at the taste of you. His other hand slides over the very prominent bulge in his jeans and you watch his cheeks flush as he huffs out a quiet moan, winks at you and disappears into his room leaving you panting and frustrated. And confused. Very confused.

You wonder all night what on Earth you’re going to do about him, but the answer comes to you like a lightbulb clicking on when your eyes blink open in the morning. 

You don’t see Ken around your apartment before you leave for the day, but getting home in the late afternoon, you find Ken shirtless in the kitchen, enjoying a tall stack of pancakes. You wonder if this is his breakfast but you don’t bother asking.

‘Back for more?’ Ken smirks.

‘I’ve already eaten, thanks. I’ll grab something later,’ you answer absentmindedly as you take off your shoes.

Ken furrows his brow and looks down at the plate in his hand and then back at you. ‘I meant more of this-’ he slides his middle finger between his lips, dragging it slowly in and out before winking at you.

God. If this were any other guy, you’d be rolling your eyes and gagging at the sight. But there’s something about Ken that just… isn’t the same.

‘Well, I did want to talk to you about that, actually,’ you say, trying not to look at his stupid, handsome face or his elegant, precise fingers.

‘You sure like to talk a lot, don’t you?’ he smiles, tilting his head.

That’s rich, you think, but you bite your tongue and join him in the kitchen, perching against the counter and ensuring plenty of distance between you. For him or for yourself, you’re not entirely sure.

‘Ken, what happened last night?’ you ask gently.

His face scrunches in confusion.

‘I mean… what were you doing?’ you try.

‘I was fingering you.’

‘No, I mean, why were you… fingering me?’ The words taste bitter in your mouth.

‘I was being a good boyfriend,’ he says, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

It takes you a moment to process. ‘Ken, you’re not- we’re not-’

‘It’s okay,’ he soothes, ‘I’ve stopped having one night stands. It’s just you and me now.’ He shrugs his shoulders happily and takes a thick bite of pancake from his fork. ‘These are really good, are you sure you don’t want some?’

Alright, not where I thought this would go, you think, trying to reconfigure and ignoring his offer both at once.

‘I think you have some confused ideas about us, and about relationships generally.’ You’re cautious, speaking slowly in case something triggers him to lunge on you again.

‘Oh? Like what?’ he says, muffled through a mouthful. ‘Was I doing the fingering wrong? I watched some really hot videos about it and-’

‘No, Ken. Listen. Well, we’re not exclusive just because you… uh- put your finger in me.’

‘Exclusive?’

‘We’re not even an item, Ken!’ you start to lose your cool and close your eyes to breathe through it, forcing yourself to lower your voice. ‘Whatever you think is going on between us, it’s not. Okay? You can go back to your one night stands or whatever, and I’ll go back to not being half-finger fucked by my roommate.’ 

You push yourself up from the counter, ready to leave.

‘Half? But you moaned?’

‘Ken have you ever actually had sex?’ you blurt out before you can stop yourself. ‘Wait- I’m sorry, you don’t need to answer that.’

Ken just looks at you blankly. Surely he can’t actually be this dumb?

‘You made me come pretty hard last night if that counts. I could hear you though the wall. What was that buzzing sound by the way, is there something wrong with the electrics?’

Heat floods your cheeks. Jesus, this just keeps getting worse with every awkward word.

You’re not sure where to look, so you just stare at the ground as you answer, ‘No, there’s nothing wrong with the electrics, don’t worry about it,’ and grab a pancake off his plate to disappear into your room where you plan to stay until you really need to come out.

You spend a couple of hours on your bed, watching your favorite show and scrolling on your phone to reset, and things start to feel a little clearer. You venture out of your room with a resolve to sort this out once and for all.

‘Ken, I hate to say it, but-’

‘We need to talk?’ 

He’s laid out on the sofa and doesn’t turn to face you as he cuts you off.

‘Yeah,’ you huff, ‘listen, I’ve been thinking and you don’t need to move out.’

Ken sits up then, turning to look at you. ‘Oh, you were serious about that?’

‘Well… yeah, kinda. And having your hand down my pants after I said it was kind of a shock. It didn’t really help where my mind was at.’

He nods, deep in thought, and you take a seat on the chair beside the sofa. You have his full attention now, the living room TV fading into the background.

‘I think there was some confusion about what exactly our arrangement is, so I wanted to clear it. We’re just roommates, okay? You’re very uh-’ you falter, unsure whether to say it for a moment, ‘very attractive, Ken, but we can’t cross that line again, or things can get awkward.’

‘Alright, so what you’re saying is, you don’t want me to put my finger in you and make you moan. But the fingering was-’

‘It felt very good, Ken, but yes, exactly,’ you breathe, relieved. Maybe he really is just that stupid and you needed to help him understand the boundary.

‘So that means I’m not your boyfriend?’

‘No, you’re not. We can be friends, but nothing more than that okay?’

Ken just nods again, processing, then, ‘Can I still jerk off?’

You don’t quite know where to look, and your cheeks prickle with heat. ‘Yeah. Sure. Just not where I can see you?’

‘Deal.’ He grins broadly, winks and turns back to his Netflix show.

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The coming days are quiet. Ken keeps to himself mostly, not wanting to overstep after your last chat. Something in him wants to prove to you that he can be good at living in your Real World Dreamhouse.

He made you breakfast, kept himself quiet around the house, always let you use the shower first, didn’t hog the TV, cleaned up his own mess, left a light on for you if you were late home — he made sure he was the model roommate. 

And it seems to be working. Ken can sense you warming to him now. He thinks that maybe you’re coming around to knowing he understands how this all works. And he’s sure he does.

He starts to feel like he’s missing you though, an ache spreading in his chest when you’re out of the house during the day and then longing hopelessly for you when you spend the night alone in your room right on the other side of his wall instead of with him.

You seem to be wedging some distance between yourself and him despite his best efforts. While he understood what you’d told him – roommates only, nothing more than friendship – he feels a pull to be around you a lot more than this. There’s a sadness in his chest when he wonders if this is what it would have been like if Barbie had let him live with her in her Dreamhouse. It’s so lonely.

So he starts to listen out for you, get to know your movements around the house and the precise timings of your comings and goings, sending you texts about mundane things like groceries or dinner to get a handle on where you are when you’re out, until after only a couple more days, he knows exactly where you’ll be at any time of the day or night.

You make it easy for him sometimes, casually telling him where you’re going and how long you’ll be each time you leave, then regaling him with tales of who you saw and what you did when you return. 

He’s really started to build up a picture of all the areas of your life he doesn’t have access to. Yet.

Then, when he knows your patterns well enough, he starts to just watch you. It’s small things at first, like keeping his eyes on you pottering in the kitchen while he pretends to watch TV on the sofa, or vice versa. Leaning to see you through a doorway here and there. Listening outside the bathroom while you shower with his eyes closed and a hand pressed to the door longingly.

But he still feels like there’s something missing. He wants to get to know you intimately. Maybe it takes time to make friends in the Real World, and he seriously gets the impression he might have put himself at a disadvantage with you after his first couple of nights here. He can’t imagine why.

Maybe he just needs to try harder somehow.

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Masterlist of all chapters

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the set up, there is so much to come from this unsettling doll man.

Tiptoeing down the hallway to the bathroom, you glance across at his door. Not a peep. You’re quiet too – the last thing you want is to piss off your new roommate at just past midnight his first night in your apartment.

Something hard collides with your toes though, and you stumble, reaching for something – anything – to keep you from toppling unceremoniously onto the ground and waking him up with a loud, embarrassing bump right outside of his door.

Exhaling with relief at managing to keep yourself upright by grabbing his doorframe in the pitch dark, you glance down with a squint to see what you tripped over – a pair of bright pink high heeled shoes dropped in the middle of the corridor. Shoes you’ve never seen before in your life.

With wide eyes and burning cheeks, realisation hits you, with just a pinch of embarrassment sprinkled in as you hear faint but heavy breathing from the other side of the door.

You shove the shoes out of the way with your foot, rush to the bathroom and then right back to bed before accidentally coming face to face with Ken, or whoever he’s sharing his room with tonight, telling yourself that the uncomfortable clenching in your stomach is just uneasiness at a stranger being in the house and definitely not jealousy. Absolutely not.

Afterall, you barely know him, and he’s your roommate. You don’t have any desire to get mixed up in those kinds of complications. Plus you’d never set out any rules about house guests yet... that can be a conversation to worry about having tomorrow.

Flopping back into bed, you stare at your ceiling for at least an hour before drifting back off while your mind is in conflict.

The shoes are gone in the morning, and as you pass his room to leave, you hear Ken’s loud snores. The ones he’d warned you about when you interviewed him for the room. You’d told him you don’t mind, and actually find the sound of snoring kind of soothing. Ken had smiled.

Shaking your head at what a weird thing that probably was to say to a guy you’d be sharing your living space with in a very platonic way, you headed out for the day and planned to tackle the house guest topic later.

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‘How was your day? I can make you dinner? I’m actually not sure how to use that uh… hot metal box you put the food into, but…’

After greeting you like an excited puppy, Ken’s face changes quickly when he finally looks at you and sees the unimpressed expression pressing your lips tight together and pulling at your brow.

‘Ken, listen, we need to talk,’ you say carefully.

‘Oh? Okay. What do you wanna talk about? Did I… do something bad?’

You could swear there’s a hint of flirtiness in his voice but you shake it off, chastising yourself for framing what he said in a sexy way.

‘Well… kind of. No,’ you correct yourself quickly, ‘no, not really bad, but-’

‘Shall we sit down? This seems like one of those we need to talk talks, and I’ve noticed people usually sit down for those,’ Ken smiles, proud, as though he might have got something right.

‘Sure, Ken,’ you breathe, already exasperated. God. Did whoever he slept with last night get him into bed just to shut him up?

You can’t decide whether you hate his stupid, expectant smile or whether you want to kiss it off his face as you take a seat opposite him at the kitchen table.

‘Alright,’ you start, unable to look him in the eye, ‘I don’t mean to be nosy, but I know you had someone here last night. And that’s an okay thing in itself, but…’

‘Oh, I know what’s going on here,’ Ken interrupts, relaxing back on the little kitchen chair, his legs spread wide and his annoyingly perfect grin turning smug, ‘you don’t need to be jealous, baby. It was just a one time thing!’

Flustered, you take a steadying breath and prepare yourself to counter his unexpected yet bizarrely astute point.

It isn’t jealousy, you remind yourself, it absolutely is not.

‘No, Ken, I’m not jealous. It’s just that the one time thing you mentioned? That’s not really the etiquette on your first night as someone’s new roommate. I want this to be your home too, but I barely know you yet, I don’t want some random stranger in my apartment. At least let me get used to you being around before you invite one night stands over… does that seem fair?’

‘Oh.’ You’ve stumped him. He straightens, lacing his fingers together on the table top, deep in thought. ‘So I can’t have friends over to kiss with until you know me better?’

‘Friends? I thought it was a– hang on, what do you mean kiss?’

There’s so much to unpack from that one short question, you almost forget the reason you’ve started this conversation at all.

‘I mean I had a one night stand?’ Ken huffs a disbelieving laugh and your blood boils for a moment. ‘But, if that’s not the done thing when we don’t know each other well enough yet,’ he shrugs, it’s obnoxious, ‘tt’s cool, I get it.’

You heave a sigh of relief. That was easier (and only a little weirder) than you’d expected it to go. But the main thing was he wasn’t going to bring strangers into your home, at least for now.

‘Good. Alright. Well, why don’t we grab din- mmh-’

Ken all but throws the table separating you clattering to the floor as he lunges forward, pressing his lips to yours so aggressively your chair nearly tips backwards as you try to push him off.

‘Ken- K- please, Ken- KEN!’

You manage to prize him off you long enough to stand up, but before you can ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s doing, he backs you against the wall, trapping you with one arm around your waist and the other pressed to the wall beside your head, your chest flush with his.

‘What’s wrong, baby? I thought you wanted to get to know me?’

‘Not like that!’ you protest, finding it harder by the second to deny the heat pooling in your core.

But it’s wrong, you know it is. You can’t date your roommate – or worse, sleep with them once and then go on pretending like nothing happened.

‘Ken,’ you breathe to keep from raising your voice any further, ‘you were with someone less than twenty four hours ago, in my apartment, and now you’re doing-’ you wave a hand vaguely toward him in the small space you have, ‘whatever the hell this is?’ 

‘Yeah, and you want it, don’t you?’

He leans in, impossibly close now.

You feel your cheeks flush. ‘No. Ken, I… I think I’m going to have to ask you to find somewhere else to live. I don’t think this is going to wor-’

He silences you again with another bruising kiss. You mumble fruitlessly against his hot, wet lips, trying to escape, but he crowds somehow closer and you can’t get away. Your clamouring fingers find his biceps. They’re huge, bulging, and you know you won’t get past. He’s stronger than even he realises.

You whine, desperate. But for what?

The hand at your back slides around your waist, fingers plunging into the front of your jeans and you mumble a weak, ‘No,’ against his lips.

‘Can’t hear you over how hard my dick is,’ Ken mutters back, and you don’t even recognise how nonsensical that sentence is because his fingers push lower, sliding through your folds. You can feel how wet you are against them and blush; you wish the ground would swallow you whole, because you do actually want this, it feels far too good, but you don’t want to want it.

‘See? You’re dripping.’ Ken’s voice is low, sinister even, and it sends a jolt of excitement straight to where his finger is circling your slick bundle of nerves.

Jesus, Ken found the clit? You shake your head, trying to focus.

‘You know,’ he drawls, watching your face uncomfortably close, ‘one night stands aren’t enough for me. I like this far better.’

‘W-what is this?’ you manage, chest heaving as you try desperately not to satisfy him with a moan.

‘Well kissing is great but…’ his middle finger slips inside, fucking you excruciatingly slowly, ‘I much prefer this, don’t you?’

‘Mmhm,’ you nod, against your better judgement, immediately regretting your agreement, your mind clouded with unwelcome pleasure as you fight to find some clarity and challenge him. ‘Wait- wait, Ken, what do you m-mean- kissing? One night… ohhh-’

‘Never had a one night stand, baby?’ he drawls. ‘Well, you find someone you think might be impressed by your good looks, bring them home, kiss and go to sleep. It’s kind of magical, but it can be lonely.’

Fuck, he was unreal. How was it that this guy could be so aggressive, so forthcoming, so fucking creepy, but so dumb? How could he think kissing is a one night stand but finger you like a pornstar?

‘No- no, Ken, you don’t just kiss- mmh… nevermind…’

Your eyes close, your head drops back and you finally let yourself moan at how good it feels. You’re completely giving yourself to him, the roommate problem suddenly seeming small and far away. 

You’d asked him to move out anyway, and now he’s finger fucking you against the wall… it couldn’t really get any more messy than this, so whats the point of stopping now?

Ken slips his hand out of your jeans then and he steps back, satisfied with himself as he slowly sucks his fingers clean, humming at the taste of you. His other hand slides over the very prominent bulge in his jeans and you watch his cheeks flush as he huffs out a quiet moan, winks at you and disappears into his room leaving you panting and frustrated. And confused. Very confused.

You wonder all night what on Earth you’re going to do about him, but the answer comes to you like a lightbulb clicking on when your eyes blink open in the morning. 

You don’t see Ken around your apartment before you leave for the day, but getting home in the late afternoon, you find Ken shirtless in the kitchen, enjoying a tall stack of pancakes. You wonder if this is his breakfast but you don’t bother asking.

‘Back for more?’ Ken smirks.

‘I’ve already eaten, thanks. I’ll grab something later,’ you answer absentmindedly as you take off your shoes.

Ken furrows his brow and looks down at the plate in his hand and then back at you. ‘I meant more of this-’ he slides his middle finger between his lips, dragging it slowly in and out before winking at you.

God. If this were any other guy, you’d be rolling your eyes and gagging at the sight. But there’s something about Ken that just… isn’t the same.

‘Well, I did want to talk to you about that, actually,’ you say, trying not to look at his stupid, handsome face or his elegant, precise fingers.

‘You sure like to talk a lot, don’t you?’ he smiles, tilting his head.

That’s rich, you think, but you bite your tongue and join him in the kitchen, perching against the counter and ensuring plenty of distance between you. For him or for yourself, you’re not entirely sure.

‘Ken, what happened last night?’ you ask gently.

His face scrunches in confusion.

‘I mean… what were you doing?’ you try.

‘I was fingering you.’

‘No, I mean, why were you… fingering me?’ The words taste bitter in your mouth.

‘I was being a good boyfriend,’ he says, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

It takes you a moment to process. ‘Ken, you’re not- we’re not-’

‘It’s okay,’ he soothes, ‘I’ve stopped having one night stands. It’s just you and me now.’ He shrugs his shoulders happily and takes a thick bite of pancake from his fork. ‘These are really good, are you sure you don’t want some?’

Alright, not where I thought this would go, you think, trying to reconfigure and ignoring his offer both at once.

‘I think you have some confused ideas about us, and about relationships generally.’ You’re cautious, speaking slowly in case something triggers him to lunge on you again.

‘Oh? Like what?’ he says, muffled through a mouthful. ‘Was I doing the fingering wrong? I watched some really hot videos about it and-’

‘No, Ken. Listen. Well, we’re not exclusive just because you… uh- put your finger in me.’

‘Exclusive?’

‘We’re not even an item, Ken!’ you start to lose your cool and close your eyes to breathe through it, forcing yourself to lower your voice. ‘Whatever you think is going on between us, it’s not. Okay? You can go back to your one night stands or whatever, and I’ll go back to not being half-finger fucked by my roommate.’ 

You push yourself up from the counter, ready to leave.

‘Half? But you moaned?’

‘Ken have you ever actually had sex?’ you blurt out before you can stop yourself. ‘Wait- I’m sorry, you don’t need to answer that.’

Ken just looks at you blankly. Surely he can’t actually be this dumb?

‘You made me come pretty hard last night if that counts. I could hear you though the wall. What was that buzzing sound by the way, is there something wrong with the electrics?’

Heat floods your cheeks. Jesus, this just keeps getting worse with every awkward word.

You’re not sure where to look, so you just stare at the ground as you answer, ‘No, there’s nothing wrong with the electrics, don’t worry about it,’ and grab a pancake off his plate to disappear into your room where you plan to stay until you really need to come out.

You spend a couple of hours on your bed, watching your favorite show and scrolling on your phone to reset, and things start to feel a little clearer. You venture out of your room with a resolve to sort this out once and for all.

‘Ken, I hate to say it, but-’

‘We need to talk?’ 

He’s laid out on the sofa and doesn’t turn to face you as he cuts you off.

‘Yeah,’ you huff, ‘listen, I’ve been thinking and you don’t need to move out.’

Ken sits up then, turning to look at you. ‘Oh, you were serious about that?’

‘Well… yeah, kinda. And having your hand down my pants after I said it was kind of a shock. It didn’t really help where my mind was at.’

He nods, deep in thought, and you take a seat on the chair beside the sofa. You have his full attention now, the living room TV fading into the background.

‘I think there was some confusion about what exactly our arrangement is, so I wanted to clear it. We’re just roommates, okay? You’re very uh-’ you falter, unsure whether to say it for a moment, ‘very attractive, Ken, but we can’t cross that line again, or things can get awkward.’

‘Alright, so what you’re saying is, you don’t want me to put my finger in you and make you moan. But the fingering was-’

‘It felt very good, Ken, but yes, exactly,’ you breathe, relieved. Maybe he really is just that stupid and you needed to help him understand the boundary.

‘So that means I’m not your boyfriend?’

‘No, you’re not. We can be friends, but nothing more than that okay?’

Ken just nods again, processing, then, ‘Can I still jerk off?’

You don’t quite know where to look, and your cheeks prickle with heat. ‘Yeah. Sure. Just not where I can see you?’

‘Deal.’ He grins broadly, winks and turns back to his Netflix show.

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The coming days are quiet. Ken keeps to himself mostly, not wanting to overstep after your last chat. Something in him wants to prove to you that he can be good at living in your Real World Dreamhouse.

He made you breakfast, kept himself quiet around the house, always let you use the shower first, didn’t hog the TV, cleaned up his own mess, left a light on for you if you were late home — he made sure he was the model roommate. 

And it seems to be working. Ken can sense you warming to him now. He thinks that maybe you’re coming around to knowing he understands how this all works. And he’s sure he does.

He starts to feel like he’s missing you though, an ache spreading in his chest when you’re out of the house during the day and then longing hopelessly for you when you spend the night alone in your room right on the other side of his wall instead of with him.

You seem to be wedging some distance between yourself and him despite his best efforts. While he understood what you’d told him – roommates only, nothing more than friendship – he feels a pull to be around you a lot more than this. There’s a sadness in his chest when he wonders if this is what it would have been like if Barbie had let him live with her in her Dreamhouse. It’s so lonely.

So he starts to listen out for you, get to know your movements around the house and the precise timings of your comings and goings, sending you texts about mundane things like groceries or dinner to get a handle on where you are when you’re out, until after only a couple more days, he knows exactly where you’ll be at any time of the day or night.

You make it easy for him sometimes, casually telling him where you’re going and how long you’ll be each time you leave, then regaling him with tales of who you saw and what you did when you return. 

He’s really started to build up a picture of all the areas of your life he doesn’t have access to. Yet.

Then, when he knows your patterns well enough, he starts to just watch you. It’s small things at first, like keeping his eyes on you pottering in the kitchen while he pretends to watch TV on the sofa, or vice versa. Leaning to see you through a doorway here and there. Listening outside the bathroom while you shower with his eyes closed and a hand pressed to the door longingly.

But he still feels like there’s something missing. He wants to get to know you intimately. Maybe it takes time to make friends in the Real World, and he seriously gets the impression he might have put himself at a disadvantage with you after his first couple of nights here. He can’t imagine why.

Maybe he just needs to try harder somehow.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Masterlist of all chapters

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the set up, there is so much to come from this unsettling doll man.

There are two things about Sebastian Wilder that a person needs to know.

First thing: He's extremely needy in bed.

He tries very hard to pretend otherwise. Nice clothes, fancy cologne, acting like he's on top of the world when flirting with you. God forbid you get him alone though, in his car or in his shitty little apartment, because the bravado completely falls apart. Panting and breathless while kissing you, groping every inch of skin he can reach, rambling when he's balls-deep, soft little praises and encouragements. Like right now, for example. You're pressed into his mattress, chest against his, one of his hands in your hair while the other plays with your clit. "Sweetheart…oh, God, yes," he whines, forehead pressed to your temple, pushing in so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat.

The second thing? He looooves the sounds of sex.

He thrusts especially hard, if only to make the headboard tap the wall, to make the bedsprings protest under his weight, to hear the wet sliding sound of him entering you over and over and over. He bites and sucks and kisses at your neck, just to get you to gasp and whine and writhe beneath him. All so he can pin you harder and tell you "Shhh it's okay, fuck, baby, just--oh, that's so good…"

When you finally tighten around him, coming undone from his constant gentle circles between your legs, he's wrecked. Face flushed, panting for air, legs trembling as his thrusts get sharper and shorter. He'd gladly cum inside you in a heartbeat if you're okay with it, pressing as deep as he can, shaking and whimpering your name as his hips jerk helplessly. Otherwise, he's more than okay with pulling out, too, covering your stomach and chest, groaning out that "You're sooo pretty, covered in me, fuck.."

Colt goes absolutely insane when he sees you nude. He is such a boob guy, and the fact that you have more than he can handle? He is constantly playing with your tits.

Ryland loves when he bottoms out on you, the way your body presses and molds around him. He is always having his hands on your thighs, digging into the softness.

Colt steals that notebook with the sizes and stuff from Ryland pretty frequently. He loves to buy you cute lingerie, seeing you in it, and honestly most of the time, he is just going to fuck you while you still wear it. Ryland is okay with this, means that Colt is getting more knowledge written down so he can also buy you lingerie sets too.

Ryland is such a simp when it comes to you in dresses, oh my lord. Anytime he sees you wearing a dress, all he can do is think about screwing you with it on.

Colt is also a sucker for boob jobs. He loves seeing his cock disappear into the warmth of your breasts.

∘₊✧ Lars Lindstrom

Lars is big, but he doesn’t know since he has little to no frame of reference, plus no one’s ever seen him naked. He’s seen some racy clips from the porn that Kurt shows him, but the guys in those movies tend to be on the bigger size so Lars just thinks that’s the standard. 

He’s long and thick, uncircumcized, with a light trail of dark golden hair leading down over his lower belly to a natural little bush around the base where you’ll find his neatly tucked balls. He’s pretty too; pale and smooth – and flushes pink at the tip when he gets a little excited.

Lars finds blow jobs a little overwhelming sensory-wise, so more often prefers touching, either over clothes and dry humping, or soft, slow handjobs… until he gets needy and whiny and you move a little faster. It can take Lars some time to recover after an orgasm, the intense sensations staying in his body for a while after, so no matter how much he enjoyed himself with you, he can feel a little touched out – but he will eagerly go for another round of pleasuring you when he’s caught his breath. He has been known to cum untouched while eating you out.

∘₊✧ Driver

Driver is a grower. There is a subtle bulge in his jeans, but when he gets hard it’s frankly unavoidable.

He’s a decently neat size, with a very light amount of blonde hair around the base and well proportioned balls. When he gets hard, he’s a good six inches and girthy, but not intimidatingly so – he’d stretch you just right.

He doesn’t usually wear underwear, finding the sensory aspect of wearing under-layers too restricting when he’s driving and the friction of his jeans can sometimes feel really fucking good. Especially when you kiss him, or even just smile in his direction and he feels himself twitch inside the denim. It doesn’t take much to make him come undone, because he’s deliciously sensitive. He doesn’t mind how you pleasure him and he does have a short refractory period, so it doesn’t take long to go again if he spills too early, and when he does go again, he’s so needy and whiny and intense. He just falls apart with you.

∘₊✧ Colt Seavers

Colt is a monster and has been jokingly compared to a roll of three Coke cans. With the biggest dick of all the geese, he sometimes gets a little lightheaded when he gets a boner.

He’s handsomely thick, has pretty veins that are so sensitive to a gentle touch, and thick dirty-blonde hair at the base following on from a tempting trail.

For a blow job you’ll need both hands along with your mouth to take him completely. He has to take his time when he fucks you because the stretch can be… a lot. But once you’re prepared by his fingers and tongue, and he’s buried deep, he breathes out a low growl of, ‘Fuck you’re so tight baby-’ circling his hips painfully slowly to get you comfortable before he pounds into you.

∘₊✧ Ken

Ken is fascinated with his dick. Having recently gained one when permanently returning to the Real World as an ex-doll, he feels very proud of it.

It’s plastic-perfect, like a dildo that was made to look like a realistic cock. His new dick did come with a small amount of bleach-blonde hair, as neat as the rest of him. He’s perfectly proportioned, big enough to fill you, but not to hurt.

Ken has a great time learning how to jerk off. He also learns that his cum is pink and glittery (affectionately known as Glizz)! With you, he is eager to try anything and everything and has so many questions, and wants to learn everything there is to know about pleasure – yours and his. Ken is frankly insatiable, and will hump you at any time you’re left alone together

∘₊✧ Henry Letham

Henry doesn’t think too much about sex, unless he’s with the right person who ignites that little flame of desire inside him just the right way. Then, he will get super invested, and jerking off will become a regular routine until you kiss him one day and take his breath away.

He is on the slightly smaller side, and that’s NOT a bad thing. He’s perfectly in proportion, fills you just right, and is pretty – in a sad way, just like him. He has never trimmed or shaved a day in his life, but he would if he thought you’d like it.

He is intense, and fucks you deep and thorough, never satisfied until you’ve come undone at least once – only then will he let himself really feel the pleasure you give him. Henry can take a while to get hard. Unless there’s a very specific kink at play that really gets him just right, he needs the emotional context behind the act to feel right. But he is an eager lover once he gets going, and will shed a tear or two when the resulting orgasm subsides.

∘₊✧ Holland March

Holland has a love-hate relationship with his schwanz. Sometimes it’s hard when he really could do without it, and other times it won’t cooperate.

He’s an impressive length. with an impressive bush of dark brown-blonde hair, and he knows how to use it. His balls are on the larger side and feel so heavy when he hasn’t cum for a while (he likes you to include them when you’re having fun down there).

Holland prefers handjobs to blow jobs because they feel more personal, and therefore more intense, and he is one for romance. He likes to watch you pleasure him, kiss you while you’re touching, feel the caress of your touch while you feel the throb of his desire. With his narrow hips, he’s incredibly skilled at getting the angle just right for you during sex, and making you feel full. You won’t only be full of his dick, though; Holland has hyperspermia, so when he cums, it goes on and on - it’s messy and sexy – copious amounts of his seed pump from his tip, prolonging his orgasm while you try to take it all. But you can’t ever quite manage to, and it will dribble out down your legs or over your chin. Handjob? Be prepared to both get covered in his release.

∘₊✧ Sierra Six

Six is as large as the rest of his body. He knows he’s big, and he’s quite proud of it, but he doesn’t try to impress you with that fact because he really thinks his dick can speak for itself when he’s hard.

He’s handsome, thick, curves up really beautifully when he’s hard, and when he’s had time he will groom his hair just a little bit, although that will get neglected when he’s busy.

Six likes you to take care of him so he can give up control, so he’s happy with whatever you want to do with him as long as you’re having a good time and taking away the prospect of any decision making. He can only do this, though, if he trusts implicitly, so you’re one of very few to ever see this vulnerable side of him and get free reign of how to pleasure him.

∘₊✧ Ryland Grace

Ryland is another Goose who is bigger than he knows, and he’s very modest about it – and about his abilities. He’s relatively inexperienced, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t an enthusiastic lover.

His dick is thick, veiny in a very pretty way, natural hair at the base, and balls that hand just slightly lower than the other Geese.

Ryland moans LOUD. He’s kind of embarrassed about it, but when you touch him, he just melts into pure pleasure and can’t stop himself. He loves to guide you on his cock, sitting back against the headboard or in a chair while you ride him, with his big hands holding your hips in place as he fucks up into you. It’s a very safe way for him to feel a sense of control without taking it away from you completely. And he’s kind of easy to excite – a naughty text here and there will fluster him so much that you can’t send them while he’s at work. He’s hard and leaking from the lightest touch, and he will cum from a handjob in under a minute. But when he’s buried in you, he likes to draw out the pleasure, keeping you still as he essentially edges himself in your pussy.

∘₊✧ Luke Glanton

Luke takes a lot of pride in his body, and his cock is no exception. He wants to be the whole package for you, and his actual package is just delicious.

He is of average size, pale, and has pretty balls. He keeps his hair closely trimmed and there are tattoos down there that you get to discover when you undress him, like unwrapping a birthday present; your favorites are the little loveheart and the lipstick stain left by amorous lips, calling you to kiss him in that exact spot (you discover he moans when you do. He got the tattoo in that spot for a reason).