𓍢ִ໋serena ꫂ᭪݁

the plush, fluffy material felt almost foreign between his dirty fingertips. his scarred thumb running over the beady little black eyes. they peered up at him, innocent and cute. your pink little teddy, as soft and pretty as you.

there was a blush-like ribbon adorned around its neck, threatening to break with every thrust of his cock. the chubbed, thickness of him ran shades deeper than the pretty teddy, disappearing into the cottony inside. the friction alone was enough to have his eyes watering, his thighs shaking, hips reaching, reeling up off the bed.

and simon thrashed, rolling onto his side, hips fucking up into the messy hole he’d cut. god, he was fucking desperate. jaw dropped, mouth hung open, he could feel the drool, the spit seeping from his mouth onto your duvet but he couldn’t get a hold of himself. if anything, he liked it, to think maybe your perfect little cunt would sit right down on his sticky spit, unknowingly claiming you.

and your poor teddy, just barely bigger than his hand was being put through it. taking each and every thrust. he could hear the threads ripping, cock bullying its way in, however he pleased, at whatever rate it pleased. without a single apology, without a drop of empathy.

tears welled in his eyes, shame silenced with the pleasure. he was getting close, the insides of the teddy absolutely painted with his silky pre. every stroke stuck to him, the fibers wrapping and adorning his sweet cock just like that ribbon. he could see the scruffy fluff with every backstroke, knotted around him. it was beautiful, he imagined the ring your drooling pussy would leave on him, just like the pretty lipgloss you always wear, all sparkly and sticky.

his chubby fingers flexed around the stuffie, grabbing tight. he allowed himself to meet every messy, nasty, shudder of his hips. and the weight that hung between his legs clapped, balls sticky and shining with just how much of a gooey mess he was overspilling, just making an absolute mess of himself on your bed.

“so-so close, baby, just…. just fucking take it. you’re my good girl, yeah? gonna fill you up, baby, f-fuck you so full.” he hammered, rolling his face down into your sheets. he smothered himself, breathing in every fraction of a scent he possibly could get out of the material. and than his teeth sank, biting, tongue pressed at the backs of them as he cried out, throat raw with all his pathetic sobs.

“you’re just so- ah, ah, no no-“ he slowed himself, balls drawn, spine curved. fuck, he was so close, too close. but, impatience was trickling down his spine, the same spine his release was lingering on, body unable to help itself as he shoved forward, a shaky, desperate thrust, his sensitive tip blunt knocking against the head of the bear.

“so fucking pretty.” it was guttural, ripped from his throat, as he shallowly humped himself into your little bear, soaking and knotting the fibers inside with a disgusting mess. he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but drown inside his own release, blonde brows screwed tight as he whimpered out like some kind of puppy.

꒰ ⟡ 𝟣𝟪+ blurb — ❤︎ 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐎𝐓 & 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐅𝐅 . . It’s longer, a gleaming silver, gilding over his chin and jaw, while you’re forced to feel it. That thickened, rough, unshaven texture alongside every thick, wet lap he makes at your little puffed-up pussy. His tongue, licking and slipping through sticky folds, soft and sweet in contrast to the sharp texture of his facial hair, which is unintentionally marking up your thighs. It has just grown so much, prickly and nearly white, rubbing against your tender, pulsing hole while his tongue licks up in languid glides. His chin firms itself on your perineum to feel your pulsing little slit rubbing against the coarseness; to feel his baby grinding up on his own face. Jack just wants you shuddering, helpless and humping his silvered, rough-fuzzed jaw. His lips part to slick you up with saliva, allowing a thick, wet string to connect his face to your needy, swelling pussy. The wetness pools up in the seam of your clit, and he spreads his tongue onto you, flat and demanding, stiffening it for a moment on your needy bud, before licking and kissing into where your clit hood is exposed — pulled back, alit, and inflamed, all from his face between your thighs.

 "Gonna lick you 'til you're raw." Jack admits hoarsely into your little cunt. "Just need to have my mouth on you, honey."

it was a nasty habit he's had since his teens, his way of dying a little bit with each lit cigarette. he never expected to last this long, with all the packs he goes through, bullets dodged, and the battles he's barely survived. he never thought to quit, always itching for a stick between his fingers to ease his anxiety and shaky hands.

before he met you, he never had a reason to. now that he has you, tucked into his side and leeching off his warmth, he knew he had to change. the little looks of disappointment every time he went for a smoke gutted him, or when you'd grimace every time you had to swallow his cum made him grit his teeth. or simply the idea that his smoking could kill your pretty lungs.

he quit cold turkey, like an idiot. it was the hardest thing he's been through, even if he wouldn't admit it, and he's been shot, stabbed and many other questionable things.

but it'd be easy in comparison if it meant keeping you healthy, giving you the live you deserved with him.

sure, he was as grumpy as ever and itched to put his lighter to good use, his hands shaking at his sides with restraint. he needed something to do, something to take his mind off the bad thing he craves.

and there's nothing more he craves than you. lips wrapped around your clit as he feasts on your puddy. tongue laving over the swollen flesh with half lidded eyes, murmuring excuses of, "jus' need m'lips 'n 'ands busy, luv." plunging thick fingers into your plushy cunt, slick and soaked with arousal as you let him. you're so proud of him for quitting, letting him overstimulate your pussy if it meant he never picked up another pack.

jack has always been stubby.

everything about him is thick. legs, arms, neck, tummy, dick. he was like hard squishy that you just couldn't help sinking your teeth in.

specially during sex. your favorite position was missionary. it meant having his thick arms caging you down, his tummy pressing against yours as your nails digged into his beefy shoulders. that feeling alone was enough to bring you to an euphoric orgasm.

but lately, you been starting to feel less tummy and more hard muscle. you loved his tummy! you would lay your head on it, dig your nails into it while riding him.

maybe it was the lack of eating, or maybe the increase of swat shifts he's been taking. whatever it is, you didnt like it. you loved chubby jack, loved his dad bod.

“jeez, im full.” he groaned as he stood up from the couch, gently pushing your legs off his thighs. “what?” you frowned, grabbing onto his hand. “you didnt finish it, jack.” you pulled him back down, shifting so were sitting on his lap.

“yeah but im-” “let me feed you.”

his eyebrows quirked at the sudden shift in position. he also didnt miss the way your hand rested against his now more flatter tummy. but he knew better than to deny you, specially since you looked so cute wanting to take care of him.

unbeknownst to him, you weren't doing it because you were concerned about him not eating. well kinda, but your main concern was getting his tummy back! so, he sits through 30 minutes of you feeding him, your hand against his cheek. which are more hollow now.

its not that he doesn't look good, he really does. but he doesn't look like your jack. your stubby jack. even his fingers are losing their girth. its not an obvious change, but its kind of impossible not to notice when you've had them inside of you several of times.

“what's up with you today?” he says inbetween chews, rough hands running up and down your back, eventually settling on the swell of your hips.

you look down for a moment, looking almost shy. you didnt want to make him feel self conscious, but his body changing did upset you a bit. “i dunno, i just *feel* you getting skinnier.” you whisper, setting the plate down on the couch.

his eyebrows furrow in confusion, head tilting like a confused puppy. “i mean i love how you look baby, so sexy!” you reaffirm, slightly nervous. “but-but-” you let out a sigh, running your hands through his curls more for your comfort than for his. “you're not...chubby anymore.”

you're so caught up in your own yours you dont realize he's smiling down at you, one of his broad hands going up to your head to pull it down to his chest. you melt immediately, cheek pressing against one if his pecks. he's so hard and broad, but yet again, you miss the slight curve of his tummy pressing against you.

“so you're upset because im getting skinnier?” he chuckles, kissing your forehead softly. “i guess so...it sounds bad when you put it like that.” you mumble, gently curling your fingers at his biceps that are holding you in place.

“i thought you would enjoy it, you know, me getting in shape.” he says softly, honestly. and it break your heart thinking that he's probably been feeling self conscious about his body, damn you for not showing him how much you love his stubby self!

“what?” you gasp, shaking your head. “baby you're already so perfect.” you insist, lifting your head up to look at him. “you're so sexy, jack. you dont need to be in shape, you already were.” your last words sound more earnest, it makes him feel better.

“i love your body, and i loved it before you started working out.” you mumble again, kissing his cheek. his scruff scratching your lips. “you better have not been starving yourself jack abbot.” you say more sternly, pinching his cheek.

“i swear, i havent. just been working out more.” he flexes his arm, his bicep looking extra biteable. but even then it doesn't satisfy you. jack sighs, cupping your cheek. “give me a couple of weeks, ill stuff my mouth with grease and junk.” he whispers, smirks as he pulls you closer to him. his cock chubbing in his jeans. “and you... your tummy will be full aswell. full of life, then we'll both be big and fat.”

you gasp, slapping his shoulder. “jackie stopp...” you whine, yet you dont pull away. the imagine does sound appealing. getting his tummy back while you being full of life. “i guess it doesn't sound so bad.” you mumble after a beat, arms wrapping around his neck.

☆ summary : this literally serves no purpose other than wanting leon kennedy so bad that im willing to fuck the screen.

☆ caution : leon has erectile dysfunction 😋, female reader, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, reader’s age is ambiguous, looot’s of dirty talk.

☆ note : its been a minute since i’ve posted! sorry about that!

leon’s not one to talk much when he’s fucking—but you are. and he both loves and loathes it because: the absolute filth that comes out of that precious little mouth you have makes leon a minute man. admittedly.

now, that’s both good and bad news for you because on one hand, that’s big a confidence boost. making your really hot and sexy man blow his wad in a minute or two? high five. but, on the other hand.. leon isn’t as young as he used to be anymore so, once he’s done? it’s pretty difficult to get his cock hard again. back when he was younger he could go for round after round and his refractory period was little to non existent. now, it takes a little bit more time. and there are just times where he can’t get it up anymore without a little help from a med that rhymes with niagara.

and there’s nothing wrong with that—it still works! but he’s become a little self conscious about it no matter how many times you reassure him that it’s okay. and more often than not, you’ve already gotten yours and! if you haven't, he makes up for it when his mouth. (and he’s so good with his mouth, we talked about this.)

the first time it happened it was so sudden—neither of you registered what had happened until you felt his cock pulsating inside of you and when he pulled out, the milky white that had started to ooze out your cunt onto the sheets pooling under your ass. you’ve never seen him so embarrassed. the tips of his ears all red and he could not for the life of him get himself to look at you in the eye. he got over it eventually.

but, still even today, leon’s not immune to your.. charming way of words.

You try— you try— to mumble that you're not like this, that you don't make it a habit to let men follow you home from bars, don't let them fuck just because they pulled a drunk off your arm, but it only comes out wet and incoherent, smeared into the calluses on his palm.

Simon's watching your sweet pussy fuck right open, eyes sharp even through the mess of sweat on his brow, fixed on the way you stretch and drag around his cock, clinging to him every time he pulls out just to drive back in harder, deeper.

It's then that he hears the muffled garble, feels your jaw working against his hand and leans close, his breath fanning hot over the crown of your head. "Whas'at, sweet'eart? Tryn' to tell me somethin'?"

But he doesn't let you speak, not after feeling the first flutter of your pussy, the warning tremor that tells him you're close. Whatever he keeps forcing back down your throat can wait— That's it, right there, let it fuckin' take ya— and you can feel teeth scraping your skin as he presses down, caging you in.

It's only after your orgasm rips through you like wildfire, clutching his cock so fucking sweet, until you've come twice? thrice? that he peels his hand away, leaving your mouth damp with spit where you gasped into his palm, and grips your jaw, forcing your head back towards his chest. "Atta doll. Took me right through it. Go on, now. Say what you were tryin' so hard to get out."

"Mmm—I'm not— I don't— don't usually do this. I'm—"

Simon rolls his hips, and a half-sob half-plea tears from your throat. "No?" His voice is rough, thick with condescension, the rumble vibrating through his chest and into your spine. "'s that why you're trippin' over your pretty little shoes to fuck back on it?"

He can feel the way you’re tightening, see the glossy slick dampening the hair at the base of his cock and running down his thighs. Simon drags you tighter against him, making sure you feel every single inch of him even as your words splutter and break.

cw. mature content.

Simon never thought he'd love someone's mouth on his cock, ever. Just the thought of being so intimate with someone has him shuddering, sure he doesn't hate it. His past hookups were decent enough, he never went down on them because that wasn't really his thing and he never forced them to do the same either but when a few of them insisted, he gave in. But ofcourse it didn't really get him going.

So when you came along and sink down on your knees for the first time, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes, simon can't help but caress your hair. You unbuckled his cargo, pulling down the zipper as you stared at the prominent bulge straining against his boxers. You eagerly pulled them down, just enough to reveal his massive throbbing cock, "woah.. it's big" you whispered in awe. Your hands gently took the bulge in your palm, feeling it twitch to life in your hold.

He bit back a groan as you rubbed your small thumb on his swollen tip, the bead of precum smearing on your fingers as you let out a giggle and pulled away, bringing the finger to your mouth as you licked it clean, making simon grunt, "Fuck, don' do that luv." But you couldn't help but smirk as you looked up at him and while maintaining eye contact, you pushed his cock down your throat in one go.

Simon couldn't stop the groan that slipped as his large hand gripped your hair tightly, "Fuckin' hell", you choked around him, your spit dribbling past your mouth as you tried to hollow your cheeks but just the sheer girth of it has the inside of your cheeks stretched wide as you gagged. You could barely breath as he quite literally had blocked your windpipe, your hands fisted into simon's jeans as tears burned in your eyes. You pulled back before trying to take more of him but you just couldn't! He was just too big!!

You fully pulled back now, sputtering as you tried to catch your breath but simon groaned in frustration, "Bloody hell!" His hips bucked, chasing your warm mouth, "can't sii, you're so biiig!" You coughed as his tip poked your cheek but simon's hazel eyes looked down at you, wide with new found obsession, "ya can take it." He muttered before gripping your hair and thrusting his cock in.

He let out a grunt, pushing your head deeper onto his cock, not caring if you gagged or cried. Would it be sadistic if he happened to like the sounds you made as you struggled to take his cock down your throat, it did hurt him seeing your poor jaw slacked open as you tried your best to take him but he's make sure to kiss your face better, his poor dovie. Your cheeks sucked on his girthy length while your hands travelled to his heavy balls, squeezing them as he bucked his hips in sudden excessive pleasure.

"Jesus!" Simon's hand gripped your hair as his stomach scrunched and he came right down your throat, making you gag as you pulled back. His cum flowing down the side of your mouth as you coughed, sniffling as tears and snot ran down your face. It was such a mess and honestly as simon stared down at you, there was just hearts missing in his eyes, this had just become his new favourite view. "Ya were amazin', luv."

@masterlist

— Soldier boy doing coke of your tits .ᐟ Ი︵𐑼

⤷ cw : fauxcest .ᐟ , DDDNE , dubcon (both of u are high .ᐟ ) , coke usage (please don’t ever do coke) , daddy kink , u call him dad he calls you kid , fingering , minors do not interact .ᐟ .ᐟ

⤷ oops I need dat … don’t like it ? Don’t read block or scroll .

“Stay still, doll.”

You’re sitting on his lap in nothing but a bra and panties, you’d jokingly asked him to snort coke off your tits the other day, and he couldn’t get it out of his head since. Of course you didn’t think he’d take you seriously, but he did. Now you try to sit still as he lines up a second line on your left tit, it tickles, and you try not to move, knowing it would piss him off.

“It tickles, Daddy!" He mumbles a small “I don’t care” and lines up the rolled-up dollar bill to one of the lines and snorts it up, if you weren’t soaked before, you for sure were now. He snorts the other line and throws his head back. His fingers wipe some of the residue off your tits and brings his fingers up to your lips.

“Open for me, doll.”

You hesitate, never having done something like this before, yes it was a small amount, very small. It still made you nervous. Eventually you part your lips, and he slips his fingers in and slides them around your gums, the taste is gross and bitter.

“Swallow for Dad, sweet girl.” And you do, it hits you after a couple of seconds, making you all floaty and giggly. You hide in the crook of Ben’s neck, not being able to stop giggling. “Dadddd feel all floaty."

“That so doll? All fucking floaty for your dad?” His fingers slip past your panties and find their way to your wet hole.

“Look at that doll all wet for Daddy, like a cheap whore.” He slips a finger inside of your wet cunt, and you bury your face deeper into his neck, grinding into his hand. He sticks another finger in you and starts to thrust them in and out of you while whispering filthy things in your ear.

“P-please dad m’so close!”

“Yeah, going to make a mess on Dad's fingers, huh? “The only thing you can do is whine as his thumb comes in contact with your sensitive clit, your hand grabs his wrist not to stop him but to find something to ground you. The pressure in your tummy builds up as he speeds up his movements, curling his fingers in your cunt. That pushes you over the edge, and you cum all on his fingers.

“Ah ah, Dad, Dad!!" Ben lets you ride out your orgasm and pulls his fingers out of your cunt and sucks them clean. You cling to him like a life line, he’s the only thing grounding you right now. The drugs and orgasm really did it for you.

“Such a good kid for Dad."

he's a typical military male. mean, blunt, and cold. he's not much for pda with his love, it's not that he's ashamed of you or anything, but at most he holds your hand if you ask him. he's ghost—he has a reputation to uphold!

so no, you can't take photos of him in your girly bed that has a concerning amount of plushies and the softest, pinkest blankets he's ever had the pleasure of sleeping with, and you can't call him baby or a childish petname that isn't si or my love because he's a grown man pushing into his mid thirties almost forties and he doesn't want his teammates to think he's a sissy.

he wouldn't hear the end of it if his teammates knew that he sleeps best with his head on your chest and your arms wrapped around him like mother and son, protecting him from the cold, dark world. society expects him to be dominating and masculine. in the barracks at night, his teammates often ask him for deets on how he fucks his woman back home, but truth be told when they ask, his mind only thinks about how hard he cums inside of you when he makes love to you deep and slow, suckling on your breasts with your hands dragging deliciously up and down his back, soothing him until he's nothing but a trembling and whimpering mess—so instead he tells them to go fuck themselves.

in public, you'll whine and complain when he declines your offer to hold him, so he lets you steal a kiss or two as compensation. however, simon has a tiny dilemma when it comes to you. he may act cold and unaffected, but deep in his heart he's an absolute sucker for your attention and praise. once he got ahold of you, it's like he became addicted to this thing that people like you call love—your love.

so when you pull away, balance flat on your feet, simon stares down at you with round gleaming eyes that tell you everything that he can't say. please, more.

and you deliver, because your simon gives you all you want and he deserves to receive the same treatment. you get back on your tippy toes and press your soft lips against his, to which he instantly responds with pressing his against yours. he knows he said only a kiss, but his hands seem to have a mind of their own as one of them cup the back of your head, not giving you the chance to step away.

the kiss gets more wild than he anticipated. in the back of his mind, as he flicks his tongue against your bottom lip, he wonders where his sense of control went, but his eyes are already glazing over and soon the kiss turns into a sloppy thing, saliva threatening to spill from the corner of his mouth as you absolutely ravage your boyfriend.

there's many people around the two of you, giving disapproving faces as you... ruin him. he feels destroyed. weak. this is not how it's supposed to be. he's the one meant to press you into the wall, groping you, but no, you're the one who is cupping the bulge in his pants without a care in the world, parting from him just to whisper "you like that, baby?" before you're back crashing your lips against his, to which he nastily groans at.

he's a blushing mess, eyes glossy and chest heaving as he pants into the kiss. he lets you nip at his lips and draw blood, lets you drink him up until you pull away suddenly with a lewd pop!, licking his saliva off your lips as you look at him with a mischievous smirk, satisfied at the sight of your boyfriend, usually composed and as stoic as stone, now an absolute mess; pink in the cheeks and sucking on his own bottom lip from shyness, his hands fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

there's a familar look in his eyes again.

when you first met him, you thought he was a normal guy who liked rough sex and blowjobs.

oh boy, were you wrong.

you weren’t expecting him to love sucking on your toes while he’s balls deep inside you, hips — slap, slap, slapping against yours with rough — mean strokes that left your mind hazy, eyes rolling back whilst he moaned around your toe like it was tastiest desert he’d ever tasted.

nor were you expecting him to beg you to step on his face, back flat against the bedroom floor as you sat perched on the bed, white toes pressing into the side of his face as he moaned like it was the best fuckin’ thing in the world.

I mean…could you blame him tho? his job was hard, carrying heavy stuff all day like the man he is. you helped him relax, it made him feel safe:(

you never would suspected that a man as big and fuckin’ burly as toji would want to be smothered by your feet after a hot pilates class but oddly enough you don’t mind it.

actually…you love it.

love when he’d stick his big nose between your thighs and sniff away at your pussy, tongue lulling out to lick a longggg filthy stripe between your puffy lips, gathering up all the sweaty slick before he’d gulp it down with a throaty groan.

love when you catch him with a pair of your dirty panties wrapped around his cock, his other hand holding his phone as he scrolls through your sex tapes.

love when he lets you spit in his mouth whilst you ride his thick cock like your life depends on it. love when he grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up toward his neck so you could press down and give his throat that delicious pressure that he oh so loves.

and god, when he breeds your pretty cunt with his seed, stuffing it back into your pussy when it leaks out before shoving your panties back on before it fell out again.

he’d make you walk around like that, with his cum stuffed so deep in your cunt.

and obviously he’d eat it back out later.

he was your disgusting man and would always be<3