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lipglossanon · 7 months

Text

Urban Legend

shape shifter/wendigo!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader - NSFW

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, monsterfucking, dirty talk, mentions of cannibalism, threats, CNC, rape fantasy, rape talk, oral (f receiving), impromptu thigh job lol, biting, blood kink, multiple creampies, fingering, overstimulation, belly bulge, cum inflation, breeding kink, double penetration in one hole

not proofread ✌️ it’s all made up and the points don’t matter 😜

I literally had to stop myself from writing so sorry if the ending is sudden/lame 😝

“There’s no way that it’s real,” you scoff into your phone.

“Then why was it in the newspaper, huh?” Your friend’s voice sounds tinny on the other end, letting you know you’ll be out of range soon.

“To sell them, duh,” you laugh, “hey listen, I’m about to lose service so I’ll talk to you on Monday.”

“Call me if anything happens!” her concern makes you smile to yourself.

“Will do, bye!”

You lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket. A quick glimpse of a chimney in the treeline lets you know you’re almost to the cabin. It’s just a small little one bed, one bath place deep in the middle of the woods. Your parents moved and left the place to you, so you’re not able to come out as much as you like so it’s a little more rundown than in previous years.

You have to park at the bottom and make the mile long hike up the mountain in order to reach it. There’s an ATV parked in the shed for any emergencies, but you’ve made the trek all these years without any issues so fingers crossed this will just be another year in the bucket.

Stepping up onto the small porch, you pull out the spare key and unlock the door. A branch snaps off in the woods and you shoot a look over your shoulder. Your friend’s nervousness seems to be rubbing off on you. Rolling your eyes, you turn back to open the door.

“There’s no such thing as werewolves anyways,” you mutter under your breath.

She gave you a quick breakdown of the last several month’s events while you talked to her on your walk. She told you there’s been missing livestock for weeks until suddenly a few local parishioners went missing after service and were found brutally mutilated days later. Attacks have been gradually ramping up, peaking around the full moon especially (which just happens to be the weekend you decided for a mini vacation at the cabin, go figure).

The locals believe in some old wives tales about a werewolf returning every hundred years. You think it’s kinda cute they hold onto such old superstitions, but it’s more than likely some bobcat or mountain lion that’s come down due to deforestation in the area.

You let these thoughts wash over you as you bustle around the cabin; you get everything in place and mentally thank your dad for putting up solar panels years ago. Those paired with the propane tank and generator outside means you won’t be without hot running water or lights.

Once you’re all settled in, you decide to make something quick and simple for dinner before relaxing in front of the fireplace. Stretching out on the beat up couch, you scrunch your toes in the thick fuzzy socks you love to wear this time of year and flip open the book you brought with you. You’ve just found the most comfortable position for reading, becoming more engrossed page by page when a loud thudding knock rings out from your door. You jump at the sound and scowl over at the door.

Another knock happens and you close your book, making sure your bookmark is securely tucked in the pages, and raise up. Quietly walking to the door, you peek out of the peephole and see an injured man slumped against the porch railing. Your heartbeat quickens and you watch as he raises a tired hand to knock on the door again. Glancing around the area yields nothing but trees and the dusky twilight.

You tiptoe away and grab the rifle out of the gun safe next to the fireplace. As you walk back over, the man knocks once more.

“How can I help you?” You call out from your side of the door, gazing back through the peephole.

The man tilts his face up, fringe falling away for you to make out a strong jawline.

“I-I was attacked and n-need help,” he winces, arm hugging his middle where you can see blood seeping through his shirt, “some kinda w-wild animal. I just need a phone or a first aid kit. Please, miss.”

You pause, eyes glancing down to the gun in your hands. On the off chance he’s faking, well he won’t be for long.

“What’s your name?” You call out, pulling your phone from your pocket.

“Leon. Leon Kennedy,” he grunts, clenching his waist.

You type it out in your notes as well as a text message just to be on the safe side and lock your phone again. Unbolting the heavy door, you pull it open, gun at your side.

He glances down at the weapon and back up to you, a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth before pain pinches his expression.

“Promise I don’t bite.”

You gesture forward and he takes a staggering step before pausing.

“Are you coming in or what?”

He grimaces and takes another halting step, “Yeah, just hurts to move.”

You shift on your feet, debating with yourself before setting the gun down and stepping forward.

“I’ll help you,” you murmur, taking his other arm and placing it over your shoulders.

You angle him in the doorway first and help him hobble over to a chair near the fire.

“Thank you,” he breathes out a sigh of relief before groaning, “cut me pretty deep.”

You walk over to pick up the gun and move it back to the safe. Making your way to the bathroom, you pull the first aid pack from under the sink and walk over to your impromptu guest.

“Can you take your shirt off?”

“Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first,” he jokes, but stiffly slips his shirt over his head.

You smile sardonically and snap open the bag, “I usually don’t harbor strange men on my days off, so I guess I don’t quite know the protocol.”

He laughs but it ends in another pained groan, hand pressing against the clawed marks across his ribs.

“Shit, that might need stitches,” you frown, pulling out the disinfectant.

Once you clean off the area, you notice it’s not as deep as you thought.

“Luckily we didn’t need to use the quick clot,” you smear antibacterial ointment over the wounds and pull out the gauze.

He hums but doesn’t say anything; his blue eyes haven’t moved from your face the entire time you’ve been ‘doctoring’ him.

“Thank you for this, I really thought I was gonna be wandering the woods for hours,” he finally speaks as you tape a bandage across his ribs and wrap it with the gauze (to be on the safe side you murmur to him).

“Well, tomorrow, we can ride the ATV down and call a friend or the local ranger since you were attacked by an animal,” you zip up the first aid kit and grab all the rubbish to toss in the trash.

He nods, “Okay.”

“You’ll be sleeping on the couch,” you point to the old upholstered couch in question, “it’s not big but it’s better than the floor.”

His eyes flick from the couch back to you, “I appreciate it. Better than being outside, ya know.”

He quirks a smile at his own words and you give a tight one in response.

Sitting down in the chair across from him, you give him a quick once over, “Are you okay though? Like I’m not doctor, but I can help you down the mountain to my car if you really need one.”

He shakes his head, a softer smile pulling at his lips, “No, I’m good. Thanks though.”

“What happened?”

“I have a place out here and decided to go for a walk and an asshole jumped out of the bushes and nicked my ribs, knocked me down. I got a little disoriented and wound up over here. I could hear it following me up until I reached your porch.”

You rub your arms and gaze over to the front door, “Did you see what it was?”

“Some kinda wolf I think,” his brows furrow as he thinks back, “big for a wolf though.”

His expression clears as he looks back at you, “You live here?”

Shaking your head, you drop his gaze to look into the fireplace, “No, just a weekend getaway. Shitty job and even shittier neighbors getting on my nerves, so here I am.”

He laughs, “You don’t love your job?”

“No, not really,” a small smile crosses your face turning back to him, “does anyone?”

Leon shrugs before hissing from jostling the wound, “Mine’s not so bad. I work security.”

“Ahh, any place I know?”

He shakes his head, “It’s local.”

You hum in reply and glance at your watch.

“Well, I’m going to head to bed,” you stand and make your way back to the gun safe, pulling out the rifle again, “not to be rude, but I don’t know you from Adam so if you need to get my attention, I highly stress knocking and waiting for me to reply.”

His gaze doesn’t move from your face, “Read you loud and clear, miss.”

“Bathrooms through there, kitchen is there,” you point at each in turn, but with the open floor plan it would be hard for Leon to miss any of this, “I’ll probably wake up pretty early and make coffee. Then we’ll head down, okay?”

He nods along with you, “Okay, I’ll see you in the morning then.”

You walk over to the bedroom and right before the door snaps shut, Leon calls out to you.

“Goodnight!”

“Goodnight,” you parrot, giving one last look to the stranger now sitting on your couch.

His eyes seem to reflect the firelight making you shiver. In a blink, everything seems normal making you think you only imagined it. Closing the door all the way, you slide the lock in place and crawl into bed, leaning the rifle next to your nightstand.

He says he lives nearby but you’ve been coming to this cabin for most of your life and have never heard of any neighbors. It’s one of the reasons why your parents bought this place, the seclusion of not having anyone around for miles. He’s just really suspicious to you, even if he is cute.

You eventually drift off, eyes trained on the door until they’re slipping shut. A loud jarring sound from the living room wakes you with a jerk. Raising up your hand hovers over your gun. A loud muffled curse makes you deflate a little. Leaving your warm bed, you unlock and open your bedroom door a crack to see Leon kneeling over the chair he must’ve ran into.

“You okay?” You call out making him jump, head jerking around to the sound of your voice.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “I sorta tripped. Sorry to wake you up.”

You shrug and step out, making your way over to the kitchen, “Shit happens.”

Leon watches you as you grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You seem really interesting,” he tosses out as you drink your water, “it’s kinda refreshing.”

“No offense Leon, but this is super weird for me,” you blatantly state, squinting at him, “in all my time being up here, I’ve never run into anyone else.”

“I was attacked,” he gestures to his ribs, “and I walked around for a while before finding you. It’s not like I was hiding out for you.”

He laughs suggesting it’s a joke, but there’s a ring of truth to his words that makes your hair stand on end. You eye the block of knives to your left.

Once he realizes you’re not laughing, he tapers off, a queer little smile tugging at his lips.

“I think I’ve spooked you,” he sighs, placing his chin in his palm as it rests against the chair, “didn’t mean to, miss.”

Using the excuse of sitting your bottle down on the counter, you side step closer to the knives.

A grin stretches wide across his face, “Those won’t do you any good.”

Your fingernails dig into the soft meat of your palms as you level a flat look at the man in front of you.

“And why not, Leon?”

He tilts his head, fringe shifting until only one blue eye can be seen, “Because they’re not sharp enough, silly.”

By the time your fingers wrap around the handle of a butcher’s knife, four sharp claws are wrapped around your neck, thumb digging into your jaw to tilt your head up. Your brain stutters, trying to comprehend what you’re even looking at now.

He’s monstrous, blocking out the light completely, his body towering above your frame by a couple of feet, not including the curled ram horns protruding from his head. From what little you can see, you’re grateful for the dark. He chuckles a low warbling sound that has your heart rate kicking into overdrive.

“You’re very interesting,” you feel a cold press of something hard and smooth against your ear, “think I’ll keep you for myself.”

He drags you closer to the fire and you catch a flash of an animal skull in place of a face before he turns away and in a blink he looks human as he did earlier tonight.

He smiles at you, “Gotta remember not to scare you too much.”

With all the insanity that has taken place in the last few minutes, you find yourself blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.

“You weren’t even hurt, you asshole. Made me waste my first aid gauze.”

Surprise crosses Leon’s features before he’s smiling again, too wide to be human. You can see his pupils are slitted now, like a cat’s.

“Yes, very interesting,” he chuckles, facing off against you and blocking any access to the bedroom (and your gun), “and you’re right.”

Under his breath you catch the words, “fucking Chris.”

You purse your lips, “If I go missing, they’re going to come looking for me. They’ll know your name.”

He sits you down on the couch taking a seat next to you. Leon’s excited by your words, eagerly leaning into your space.

“You’re just full of surprises,” his teeth are longer now, needle sharp as he speaks, “and so clever. I like you already. I don’t plan on killing you.”

You snort, “Sure, and all of those locals just fell down and hurt themselves to death?”

He laughs, a sharp bright sound that makes your chest flutter.

“Oh, well they had it coming to them. Needed to eat,” his eyes reflect in the low light, “you’re such fun.”

He leans forward and breathes in causing goosebumps to race down your arms, “You make me want things. Things I haven’t thought of in a long, long time.”

Confusion pinches your brows together, “How old are you? Wait, is Leon even your real name?”

“You ask such silly questions,” he pouts, “and yes, it is. Why? Think I should have something like Cthulhu?”

You huff a laugh at how offended he sounds but bite down the smile as soon as Leon lights up from your amusement.

“You’re a tough cookie to crack,” he presses more into your space making your skin prickle, “think I know a way to get you to like me.”

He pulls back and tugs his shirt off and with a small flex of his arms, rips the clothing in half. You can’t help but stare at him. When you patched him up hours ago, you had a fleeting appreciation of his body and now it flares back up as your eyes trace his pecs down to the happy trail disappearing under the band of his jeans.

After tearing the shirt again, he wraps a torn piece around your wrists and ties it off. You try twisting your arms, but it does nothing except pinch the skin. Embarrassingly, your clit pulses at the feeling of being tied up like this.

Next, Leon strips you both down quickly; his eyes hungrily raking down your nude body as he removes each piece of clothing. Feeling self conscious, even in front of a monster, you shift your arms to cover yourself. He grabs your biceps, blue cat eyes flashing with heat, and yanks them back up.

“Let me have my fill,” he gnashes his teeth, sharp points drawing your eye, “look at how soft you are, all that lovely unmarked skin…”

His voice trails off as he runs his hands down your arms to your breasts.

“Sweet little nipples that need sucked…”

You shiver as he tweaks your nipples until they’re stiff and sensitive. He runs his hands over your soft stomach and hips. One hand grips the fat of your waist and the other teasingly rubs across your mound.

“And a fat wet pussy that needs licked.”

You shudder at those words, thighs subconsciously parting for him as he grins wickedly into your eyes.

“Yeah that’s what she needs, huh? A sexy cunt that just needs to be stuffed full with a big fat cock.”

A whine slips past your lips and you go hot all over with embarrassment, toes curling against the soft rug.

“S-shut up, fucking perv.”

He laughs, a distorted chime that reminds you of a bell, and leans forward to nose against your jaw, kissing your cheek.

“Mmm, I’ll enjoy every second of this. You’re so feisty,” he kisses down to your neck, “which means this pussy is gonna taste so good. Especially when you cum.”

You glare at him but can’t stop the slick leaking down your thighs from his words and touches. It’s your darkest fantasy come true; you’ve gotten off to the thought of someone forcing themselves on you more than you’d like to admit. And now this weird creature is going to have his wicked way with you; it makes your pussy thrum in anticipation.

His hands distort into claws in front of your eyes; the fingers are multi jointed in the strangest of ways, skin discolored and skeletal with nails long and sharp, digging into your waist roughly making you suck in a breath. His teeth and eyes are still abnormal, but so far that’s the extent.

“What are you?” you murmur, eyes wide as they move back down to his strange hands.

He shrugs easily, “I’m me,” grinning mischievously he presses on, “wanna see something?”

Before you can say anything he sticks out his pink tongue. It unfurls from his mouth, long and thick with a rough bumpy texture. He laughs and pulls it back into his mouth.

“Gonna show you how fun it can be,” he kneels down in the floor, between your parted thighs, “god, you smell fucking fantastic.”

He drools a line of spit down onto the hood of your clit making your cunt throb with arousal.

“Yeah, you may say you don’t like it, but look how fucking messy this pussy is,” he sighs happily, laying his head onto your thigh to gaze up at you, “I’m gonna make you feel so good, little human.”

He kisses your cunt sweetly making your hips jump up.

“So sensitive,” he growls, eyes luminous as he glances back up to your face, “gonna enjoy this.”

He buries his face into your pussy, slurping and groaning as he licks into your hole.

“Such a fat pussy,” he grunts, mouth moving up to suckle your clit, “fat little pussy that’s gonna cum all over my tongue.”

You whimper, hooking your legs over his shoulders making him laugh at you.

“You like that? Like that I wanna eat this sweet pussy until you’re creaming my face?”

“Fuck,” you moan, head tossed back as he dives back into licking and kissing your pussy.

It should gross you out, turn you off, anything, other than wanting to have this monster eat you out. You blame it on your brain just giving into the craziness that’s happening. Hell, maybe you’ll wake up and this will all have been some kind of fever dream.

You grind against his mouth and his thick rough tongue fucks up into your clenching hole, fluttering against your walls and stretching your cunt wide like a cock would. Reaching down, your fingers grip into his hair, using it as an anchor as you hump down onto his tongue.

With a rumbling purr deep within his chest, you feel his hair shift as his horns grow out of his skull. Hesitantly, you move from his silky hair to the rough texture of his horns. You gently wrap your fingers around the base and he humps the air.

“Grip’em,” he murmurs, eyes bright, sharp teeth nipping the meat of your thigh, “think we’ll both like it.”

A shuddering whine leaves your lips as you grasp his horns and rock against his greedy mouth. He groans, the vibration thrumming through your cunt making more slick ooze from your hole. He pulls away to lick a broad stripe up your cunt, bumpy tongue lapping slowly at your clit making your thighs shake.

With a rumbling growl, he buries his face into your pussy lips, tongue pressing into your drippy hole. You shift your wrists as the binding bites into your skin while you grip his horns. He purrs and rubs his head back and forth so his nose rolls across your swollen clit. Whining softly, you buck upward, grinding yourself against his mouth.

More slick oozes from your cunt and he slips his tongue into your pulsing walls before licking his way up to your pudgy clit. Leon bites your pussy lips, sucking the skin roughly before letting go. He kisses the hood of your clit and across your mound before biting down on where your cunt meets your thigh.

Letting go, he moves back to running his bumpy tongue through your slick folds. You arch off the couch and into his warm rough mouth as he keeps licking and sucking at your cunt until you’re crying out.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you pant, tugging his horns before grasping his hair.

He hums and sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue licking over the swollen bud as you moan softly. Right on the brink, he pulls his mouth away, sticky strings of saliva connecting to your pussy lips as he denies you your orgasm.

You narrow your eyes at him as he pulls away, his slitted pupils expanded as they move up from your glistening cunt to your pinched expression.

He grins and the sharp teeth make your clit throb. Gripping your arms, he slips your hands over his head to wrap around his neck. Moving up your body, he kisses you messily, tongue licking into your mouth greedily. You whimper to taste yourself on his lips.

His claws slide down your ribs making your breath stutter, exhaling a gasp as they wrap around your waist.

“So soft,” he murmurs, “just wanna sink my claws in you over and over.”

He slips his hands underneath your ass and lifts you up, standing to his full height where your head nearly brushes the roof of the cabin. Turning, he sits down on the couch with you in his lap.

“You seem rather human,” you mutter, eyes taking in his body as you straddle his waist, legs tucked on the outside of his thighs.

“Easier to enjoy a soft thing like you when I’m like this,” he laughs, clawed hands digging into the meat of your hips.

“It’s just surprising,” you shrug, arms still tied around his neck.

His eyes gleam white before settling back into their usual blue; he shifts on the couch before a smooth cat like tail slips from behind his body to wrap around your waist.

“Better?” A smug look crosses his face.

You hold back the laugh bubbling at the base of your throat; maybe you’ve lost your mind, maybe this is some weird hallucination brought on by whatever you ate, but a monster trying to impress you before fucking your brains out is something you never would have dreamt in your wildest fantasies.

“What about your face earlier?”

He rolls his eyes, “That’s so boring. Don’t you wanna see if I have two cocks or something?”

This time you do laugh, a small sound that you quickly stifle under his gaze. He jostles you as he pulls you down onto his bulge making your breath hitch from the sheer size of him.

“The answer is yes by the way,” his grin widens at the same time as your eyes do, tail tightening around your middle in excitement.

Burying his face in your neck, he mutters, “You seriously smell so good.”

His fingers move down and tease across your swollen clit, parting your pussy lips to drag slick up from your hole all around your bud. He lets go to remove his pants (which you’re not even sure how they’re still on), having you raise up on your knees as he shoves them down and off.

Once you settle back down on his lap one of his dripping cocks is sandwiched between your pussy lips and the other presses against the front of your mound, uncut head smearing precum on your abdomen, making you clench around nothing. From the looks of this one, both are thick and long, definitely bigger than anything you’ve had before.

“Eyes are up here,” his snarky tone pulls your attention back up to his face.

You shake your head, “How—“

“One at a time, silly,” he nips your neck, “then once you’re stretched enough, we can try both.”

His voice drops a lower octave, “But you’ve also got two holes that we can try out, too.”

Your eyes flutter as your cunt oozes slick all over his cock making him laugh.

“You’re really interesting,” he sloppily kisses your neck, “never had someone so excited before. Usually have to rape their little cunts in their sleep.”

You whimper and he raises up to smirk at you.

“Were you hoping for the same thing? Mmm, all half asleep as I stuff that pussy,” he purrs in your ear, “too tired and weak to push me off as I rape this tiny hole til I’m pulling out and covering you with cum.”

You grind down against his cocks as your nails digs into the back of his neck making him smile into the feeling.

“You’re such fun,” he tilts his head, eyes glittering, “just for that I’ll give you a little treat.”

Your mouth drops open in shock as he changes between one blink to the next; his entire face morphs to that of a smooth animal skull, bright eyes flaring from the empty eye sockets. He bares his teeth at you in what you hope is a smile.

“Ta da!” His voice comes out distorted and echoey, octave low and strange.

A high keen slips past your lips as he eases the head of one of his cocks into your cunt.

“You’re so wet,” he praises, “god, ‘m so lucky to get a little freak like you.”

You want to argue against him, but it’s hard when this monster is slowly sinking his fat dick into your spasming hole, stretching you out so good.

He pauses when he’s only halfway inside, holding you still with his huge hands until you’re squirming.

“Please,” you whisper, frustration making tears bead your lash line.

“Awww,” he coos at you, “since you’ve been so good, I guess you can have it all.”

And with that, he drops you down on his lap like a stone, cock bullying all the way into your cunt until the fat tip is bruising your cervix making you wail.

“Too rough?” He smirks.

You nod and slump against his chest.

“Must like it,” he mocks, “this pussy is gripping me so tight, don’t know if I can pull out.”

You shudder and drool on his pecs as his cock kicks inside your overly full pussy. His other cock drips precum all over your lower abdomen from where it’s sandwiched between you two.

“Untie me,” you’re able to slur out, slowly tugging your arms over his head.

He squints at you (or the skull seems to insinuate squinting) and uses a claw to slice through the tattered shirt binding your wrists.

Sighing, you rotate your hands before placing them on his chest and dragging them down. You watch as his muscles jump and twitch under your smooth palms. Finally, you cup the base of his other cock and slowly pull down the foreskin. You drool a line of spit down onto the head and precum blurts from the tip of his dick.

He snarls and pulls out only to roughly fuck back into your pussy. Whimpering, you’re only able to loosely grip his second cock as he jackhammers into your soaked cunt.

“Sensitive, huh,” you murmur, eyes half lidded as they gaze up into his skull face.

He whines at your words, grinding his tip hard against your cervix making your eyes roll back, “Been so long since a pretty thing wanted to play with me.”

Your hands grip his cock and begin to jerk him off firmly, spitting down on his tip to make it wet and messy.

His tail, which you forgot about, slips lower down on your waist and lightly teases across your clit.

“Oh,” your eyes move from his slackened jaw down to watch his soft tail slowly tap and rub across your swollen clit.

Your cunt squeezes around his cock rhythmically as he teases your bundle of nerves until you’re rocking against him. His claws let go of your hips to wrap around your thighs, spreading you open until he can see his cock pounding into your drippy hole.

His tail helps you lean back some so he can leverage his hips into rolling thrusts up into your pussy. Your hands shakily keep stroking his other cock,completely covered in spit and precum.

His tail smacks across your clit and your orgasm hits you hard. Your toes curl and spine arches as your cunt clenches down on his thick cock like a vice, milking him until it must hurt but he only groans in pleasure. Your hands go slack and he grabs them to toss over his broad shoulders.

He presses his mouth right against your ear, low baritone making your cunt spasm and clench around his fat cock.

“Gotta pull out, little human,” he chuckles when you whine, “mmm, I’ve got to cause if I cum in you, we’ll be mated. And you wouldn’t want that, would ya?”

Your nails dig into his shoulders hard enough to pierce his skin and he purrs, “Unless you want me to fill up this sexy little pussy and keep you forever.”

You bounce what little you can down onto his dick, hands moving up to his horns to grab onto them. Feeling cockdrunk and unhinged, you swivel your hips to fuck him harder, wanting everything he has to give.

“Wanna feel it,” you sigh as he sinks his sharp teeth into your shoulder, “fill me up, Leon.”

He growls, a loud inhuman sound that makes your skin crawl and a bolt of fear spike through the arousal. Instead of letting go, you grind down even harder, pussy feeling sore and sensitive.

“You want me to cum inside you?” He sounds pained and when he tilts back up his skull face has morphed into the one he wore earlier that night.

“Uh huh,” you pant and bring up one of your hands to cradle his jaw, hips swiveling down to prevent him from pulling out, “or are you all talk?”

In a flash, he has your back on the couch as he pins you down in a mating press, legs pressed open wide by his clawed hands.

He snaps his teeth in your face, “You don’t even know what it means to be bred, do you? I’ll have this fat cunt stuffed so full you’re dripping my seed for days. You’ll beg for it constantly, needing me to breed your cute little hole cause you feel so empty.”

You whine, hands coming up to wrap around his horns again, “Promise?”

He growls low in his throat and smashes your mouths together, his sharp teeth cutting your bottom lip so the taste of blood flavors your kisses.

“Promise,” he mutters against your mouth before licking up the blood tinging your lips.

“Gonna mate you all the time,” he mumbles against you as he pistons his hips deep into your swollen pussy, “have you cumming on my cock until you can’t even think anymore.”

You moan and pull him back in for more sloppy kisses, “Please, please, Leon, cum in my pussy.”

His second cock’s weeping so much precum, your stomach is a sticky mess, but it just makes you squeeze down on the cock inside you even more. Leon has flipped some switch in your brain because you feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t spill inside you.

“You promised me both,” you pout, tears clinging to your lashes as his cock presses into your cervix, “promised to stuff me with both.”

He groans brokenly, hips shuddering as he bucks into you one last time, spilling his thick load deep into your cunt at the same time his other cock spurts rope after rope of hot thick cum all over your body, jizz shooting all the up to your chin.

He groans like an animal you’ve never heard of as he dumps load after load into your pussy until it’s spilling out around his fat cock.

“Mated,” he sounds happy as he sinks his teeth into your neck making you scream out.

He pulls back with bloody teeth and that’s the last thing you see before passing out.

~*~*~*~

The warm slant of sunlight from the bedroom window shines into your eyes and you roll over with a grumble. You raise up quickly once you remembered where you were, only to see Leon lounging on the bed next to you eating a bowl of cereal as he watches the small portable tv on the dresser.

“These movies are so dumb,” he scoffs, digging into your Count Chocula cereal, “they always go overboard on the transformations.”

Your bleary eyes squint at the small screen and see what looks to be The Thing and you frown at him. Pushing yourself up, you slump against his side, body feeling overly sore (the same as your sensitive cunt).

“That better not be the last of it,” you mumble against his arm, making him turn his bright eyes over to you.

“No, but good morning, little mate,” he purrs, setting the bowl down on your nightstand so he can roll over on top of you to pin you down to the bed.

You whimper and arch up into the soft kisses he presses against your neck. The blanket slips down to his waist as he grinds his cocks against your needy pussy. He eases the head of one of them inside your hole, making you sigh and wrap your legs around his waist.

“Gotta fill you up again,” he chuckles, “sucking me in like I didn’t spend all night pounding this little pussy.”

“Leon,” you whine, nails scratching red lines down his back and making his hips thrust into you.

He fucks you slow and soft, rutting into your pussy as his other cock is sandwiched between your thighs.

“Perfect,” he sighs happily, “can’t wait to give you both.”

Eyes fluttering, you moan and pull him down fully on top of you, his heavy weight squishing you into the mattress. He growls and snaps his hips harder, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass makes you clench down on him.

“First pussy I’ve ever got to creampie,” he coos against your ear, “so taboo to mate a human, but damn if I don’t love fucking this tight cunt. S’all mine now, I own this tight little pussy.”

His words wring your first orgasm of the day from your sore body, pussy walls fluttering as you cum around his fat cock. He moans low in his throat, hips rabbiting harder against you as he chases his own climax.

His blunted human teeth bite down on your neck as he buries his cock as deep as he can in your pussy, pumping his load right against your cervix as his other cock spills wet and hot between your legs.

“Fuck,” you whimper, clit pulsing as he stuffs you to the brim and paints your thighs white with his thick cum.

He pulls away with a grunt and snuggles into your side. With a soft giggle, he nuzzles against the bite mark he left on your shoulder.

“Can’t wait to show you off. Chris is gonna eat shit,” he crows in your ear before kissing your jaw.

“Chris?” you tiredly ask, twisting to look at the top of Leon’s head.

“Yeah he’s the asshole who scratched up my ribs. He’s a part of what you humans would call my pack,” he leans up to kiss you on the lips, “don’t worry, I’ll introduce you after you’re settled in.”

“What?” You frown.

“I’ve got a place not too far from here,” he gushes, eyes shining excitedly, “you’re gonna love it. It overlooks the river and everything.”

“You have a house?” Your brain feels like it’s lagging behind.

“Of course, silly,” he kisses your neck again, “you’ll come live with me. I’ll take care of you, never have to worry about a thing.”

“Quit my job and just move out here?”

“It’s not like you liked it anyway,” he rolls his eyes before climbing on top of you, pinning you down again.

His cocks rub against your cunt making you whimper.

“I’ll take such good care of you,” he murmurs before kissing you, strange tongue licking into your mouth.

Whining, you suck on the thick muscle as he rocks against you, cunt oozing creamy slick and cum all over your thighs.

“Keep you forever,” he groans, pulling back to prop his weight on his forearms, “got me addicted to this little human pussy already. Definitely not letting you go.”

A high pitched moan slips from your lips as he slips the head of both of his cocks into your cunt.

“Mmm, can’t fit quite yet but we’ll get there,” he laughs, “let me just slip the tips in for now.”

Your thighs tremble as he rocks the first few inches of each cock into your used cunt. He relaxes on top of you, letting your pussy cockwarm his dicks as he bites and kisses at your neck. He moves up to kiss you, all wet and messy, making you whimper and cling to him.

It doesn’t take long before you’re rocking against him, slowly fucking the heads of his cocks in and out of your stretched pussy. He sighs and purrs into your kisses as he tongue fucks your mouth. You can feel as his teeth change against your lips, sharp points digging into the sensitive skin.

He works you for what feels like hours, just slowly sinking inch by inch into your spasming hole. His precum and your slick have soaked your thighs all the way to the bedspread underneath. It’s a wet mess between your thighs, but all you can feel is the pleasurable pain of being too full.

“Never had someone take both like this,” he rumbles happily, nosing against your jaw, “god, what a perfect fucking pussy. You’re taking me in so well, such a good fucking girl.”

You hiccup a whine at the praise, walls fluttering against the stretch of his dicks.

“Yeah? Like being my good girl,” he nips at your earlobe, “you’re the best I’ve ever had, so fucking lucky. Can’t believe I own a slut who likes being DP’d.”

Your nails dig harshly into his back as your toes curl, his words making you burn hot all over.

“Like that?” He mocks, “like that I own you and your pretty pussy?”

His tail slips between your bodies to spank your clit making you cry out and rock against him harder.

“Leon,” you slur out, tears slipping from your eyes due to overstimulation.

With a groan, he buries both cocks to the hilt inside of your clenching heat. Your pussy feels stretched to the limit, overwhelmed by the sheer size of both of his dicks. You gasp and mewl, feeling like you can’t breathe from being stuffed so full.

“Shh, shhh, I’ve got you,” he kisses your cheek, “taking me so well. Tight little cunt just made for me, huh?”

Not able to think, you just babble out nonsensical words, feeling on the edge of another orgasm. It’s not going to take much to make you cum.

“Aww did I fuck you stupid?” He laughs, “wet little pussy just can’t handle me can she?”

His tail smacks across your pudgy clit and your orgasm slams into you, making you squirt around his cocks, too spread open to clamp down as tight as usual.

“Oh fuck me,” he hisses, grinding himself deeper, making you wail as you continue to gush around him.

“Got your cute little pussy to squirt,” he moans excitedly, “fuck, that’s so hot.”

He growls and you watch as his eyes shine before his body shifts into that monstrous form you saw last night. He’s huge, caging you in with his skeletal and strangely jointed body. You whimper and move your hands up from digging into his shoulders to the horns coming out of the skull he’s wearing now.

He pulls out only to bully his fat cocks back into your well used pussy. Eyes rolling back at the pleasure he’s wringing from your body, you moan and grip his horns tighter making him buck harder into you. A few more thrusts and you’re cumming again with a weak cry, pussy walls fluttering and milking Leon’s dicks.

“My mate,” his distorted voice rumbles, hips fucking roughly into your spasming hole, “gonna breed your little pussy, fill you up with my hot cum.”

All you can do is mewl and whimper underneath his body, feeling as he fucks harder and harder into your cunt until he’s finally burying himself all the way inside. His tips knock and rub against your cervix which set off fireworks behind your eyes as you cum one last time.

Hot thick spurts of cum shoot out and quickly stuff your pussy full. Your abdomen looks bloated from how much Leon’s pumping inside your body. He’s snarling against your neck as he humps your pussy, dumping load after load into you until it’s dripping out around his balls.

You must black out cause the next thing you know, you’re leaning against Leon’s chest in the bath. Whimpering, you weakly grasp onto the hand he has trailing across your stomach.

“Finally awake,” he chuffs against your hair, “how do you feel?”

“Sore,” you croak out, throat feeling scratchy.

One of his hands clasps yours while the other slides across your hip to your swollen pussy.

“Leon,” you whine, “I can’t.”

“Shhh,” he kisses the side of your head, “let me make you feel good, my perfect little mate.”

His fingers quickly tease and rub across your sensitive clit until you’re rocking your hips up with the motion.

“There we go, good girl,” he sighs, “let me play with that cute pussy. Feels so good to have my fingers on your little clit, huh?”

“Mm hmm,” you arch back into his chest, thighs parted until they’re touching the sides of the bathtub.

“Want me to slip inside? Want my cocks to stuff you full of cum again?”

Your body feels molten with the arousal pounding through your veins. He shifts and both cocks are pressed against your cunt between your thighs.

“‘M always so hard around you,” he whines in your ear, “you smell too fucking good, wanna eat you up.”

You shudder as his sharp teeth press against your neck, fingers dipping into your cunt to trail back up and smear slick across your pudgy clit.

“Come on, I know you can cum for me,” he kisses your neck softly.

In next to no time, your thighs shake as an orgasm crests and sweeps through your tired body, making you tense all over before going totally limp against Leon’s body.

“Good girl,” he purrs against your back, hands rubbing at your waist, “can’t wait to take you home.”

Humming, you relax, letting the warm bath lull you into a sleepy state. Leon goes off on a tangent about introducing you to everyone as soon as possible as well as moving you into his house. While you listen to him talk about your new home, you think to yourself that being mated to a monster like Leon isn’t the worst thing in the world.

divider: @firefly-graphics

#lipglossanon #lipglossanonmasterlist #lipglossmasterlist #promptober 2023 #lipglossanon promptober 2023 #monsterfucking #shape shifter/wendigo!leon s kennedy #shape shifter!leon s kennedy #shape shifter!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #shape shifter/wendigo!leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #monster!leon s kennedy #monster!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut

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all-things-fic · 7 months

Text

By The Fireplace // RM

A/N: First time writing Ross, could be the last time too! It's long (7k), it's smutty and it's a day late (sorry @abiiors). This is part of Promptober '23 and I'm not sure if I've written it right as it's set in November (as you can tell it's going well lads).

***

November 23 2023.

Six hours and forty-seven minutes.

It made sense for him to fly straight into Glasgow. It shaved almost two hours off the red-eye flight in comparison to London and another twelve hours in the car to get you to your destination.

This airport and this place weren’t something foreign to him either, he found himself popping up here more often than not just to get some advice. At times he knew he could pick up the phone, but nothing beat an actual, in-person conversation with his big brother in a normal pub with a cheaply priced pint without any pretence.

As he walked to the carousel to grab his bag, he slid the second strap of his backpack onto his arm and immediately followed it with pulling up his hood. He was knackered, body achy from the cramped flight and blinking heavy from the lack of sleep.

His glasses-covered eyes silently followed the black tracking as it moved bag after bag past him. Inside his mind, he began to ridicule himself for not just flying with hand luggage. He didn’t need the extra items, only staying here for seventy-two hours before he would be back in America.

Utah he thinks, or was it Oregon? He made a mental note to figure it out before he left.

Subliminally, he felt himself perk up when he saw his beat up silver luggage push through the black rubber flaps at the start of the carousel. Rather than waiting for it to meet him, Ross went to meet it dragging himself to the other side of the carousel.

Plucking up the item with ease, his gaze quickly scanned the case. He made sure to spot the battered dragonfly sticker that represented one of his favourite bands, therefore knowing he was picking up the right case. Last thing he needed was to be on the phone to Glasgow Airport sorting out their mistake (or maybe it would be his).

Wheeling the case through the airport was easy, even at this hour. Hood still up, he was able to keep himself to himself as he headed towards border control.

The queue shuffled along quite nicely, and he couldn’t help but smile as he read your texts that had been sent throughout his flight. The last one saying, “I’m standing beside the massive Christmas tree, it has mistletoe x.”

He was dying to kiss you, mistletoe or not. He didn’t need an excuse.

Passport scanned and stamped, he softly smiled at the lady on the desk before letting his feet take him to you. His ears perked up at the sound of the accent around him, one that always filled him with the warmest of emotions. It reminded him of the soft lilt his nephew was beginning to pick up.

Walking past W H Smith’s, he weaved around what he perceived to be a couple greeting each other and let his eyes scan over the crowd milling around him.

Christmas tree, Christmas tree, Christmas tree.

He actually spotted you first, regardless of the size of the tree that you were next to. All flannel shirt (which he was sure was his), leather leggings (which he definitely knew were yours) and black boots. Ross gently smiled to himself, taking you in.

You hadn’t noticed him, too engrossed with turning around to look at the flight board that was placed over your left shoulder and reading whether there was any delay with his flight. Truth was the stupid board wasn’t updating so it wasn’t the latest information and you couldn’t be anymore in the dark if you tried to be.

It was almost like slow motion when you turned back around, this sea of hair moving behind you as you looked through the crowd and found him. You knew your smile was megawatt, as you ran your gaze over his entire being; biting it away when you saw the way he had embraced his miserable, emo self and pulled his black hood up.

You couldn’t blame him.

Part of you could already see the heavy tiredness in his body, even though he was at least two yards away from you. Guilt was the heaviest emotion in you, relief was the second. You knew it should be happiness, and god it was there as a close third, but your thoughts were so strongly filled with how much he must love you to do these kinds of things for you.

Flying red eyes. Fucking his body clock up even more to see you for three days. Only to pack his shit up and do it all over again.

Ross closed the gap between you both easily; long and strong strides making the most of his 6’4 stature. When he was in front of you, your hands found his abdomen with ease. Arms sliding underneath his hoodie, desperate to feel as much of his warmth on you now that he was here.

Your head buried itself into his neck, and his arms immediately anchored you to him; hand sliding up to gently cup at the back of your neck. Staying in silence allowed you to really breathe him in, he even smelt tired if there was a way to describe it.

“Where’s this mistletoe then?” He queried, voice wrecked from his time in the air, his lips at your temple.

“Any excuse,” you playfully murmured, as you nudged your head back to look up at him.

“I think you’ll find, you text it to me,” he jested, eyebrows raised as he looked down the bridge of his nose at you. You always loved when he looked at you with such a roguish expression, dimples framing his closed lipped smile.

People often thought of him as sensible and he was, but the times that you saw his eyes light up in this way were some of the most alive times of your life.

“Details,” you whispered, as he pulled you up to him with a know-it-all hum and a mumbled “I’ll give you details” leaning down the rest of the way to meet you.

You’d missed his beard, that was the first musing that came to mind. It’s juxtaposing bristle and softness, always something that distracted you in the best way.

His lips were of course a close second, especially in that moment as they tenderly plucked at yours in a way that heavenly sighed god, I’m glad to see you.

This contented hum left you as he pulled away gently, his lips not done as they nipped at your jaw before he buried his face into your neck now. He started to sway the two of you as you hugged, your hands sliding up his back and gripping to the worn band tee that he donned.

“How was the flight?” you asked, voice slightly strained due to your head being tilted upwards.

The question hung around in the air for a while, before he lifted himself and pressed his lips in sponging kisses to yours once, twice and three times once more.

“Shit,” he let the word linger at your mouth as you heavily sighed, “but ‘s fine.”

With a deep breath, Ross raised to his full height once more, chest puffed out as he stretched, before asking, “Where’s the keys?”

“I’m driving,” you replied, quickly. He eyed you, right hand rubbing at his chest. You hated driving, especially in Scotland. He knew it, you knew it. The times you’d let out the girliest of screams when picking him and Rob up from Murrayfield were far too embedded into his mind to not tease you religiously about it.

It was almost like you could hear his thoughts, reminding him of all the moments you’d panicked when on the roads up here.

“I’m driving, Ross,” you stressed, cutting the thoughts dead. You knew he meant well but there was no way he was going to complete the almost six hour drive that you had on your hands after being sat uncomfortably on a plane for six hours himself and most likely only running off fumes.

His lips quirked, amused at your tone which was so heavily laced with reprimand. “Alright,” he conceded. “After you, darlin’.”

***

He had fallen asleep to Dreams by Fleetwood Mac about an hour and thirty minutes into the drive. You had assumed it to be because you had hit the A82 which was such a large stretch of road which you had to drive along for such a long period of time that it had bored him enough to nod off.

As you had slowed in traffic, you took the time to admire him while he slept. His glasses hung at the neck of the tee, never far away so that he would be able to see almost instantly when he woke rather than panic trying to find them.

His arms were folded across his chest; his neck awkwardly propped up by his bunched up hoodie made into some makeshift pillow and placed between him and the car door. You knew he would regret it later - his body was about to remind him that he was a thirty-four year old man who needed a proper bed to rest in - but regardless you were glad that he had given in to his need to sleep.

A soft smile lifted at your lips as you took in his slightly rounded chin, you just knew a double chin was hidden by his impressive beard and it filled you with such affection that you wondered if you needed an intervention at this point.

Eyes back on the road, you lifted your hand to turn down the music even further, not wanting anything to disturb him during his slumber, and concentrated on the journey ahead of you.

“What a dickhead,” you muttered after a while, pressing the break harder than you liked and watching the navy car to your right almost cut you up without a care in the world.

“He had right of way.”

Turning your face to the left, you blinked in silence over at Ross, whose face was far too amused for your likening. He did not just wake up and berate your driving. How long had he been awake?

“Easy to say when you’ve been asleep for just over four hours,” you commented, pulling off and taking the next left onto a road you didn’t catch the name of. “Must’ve needed the beauty sleep.”

The laugh that he gave you was sudden and hearty. He wasn’t afraid to let you know he was amused by your previous comment which was heavily petulant in its delivery.

“M’necks fuckin’ killing me,” he broke the silence.

“Karma.”

He meowed at you then, communicating he was heavily aware of your cattiness towards him. You cut your eyes to him, infuriated by the way his gaze sparkled before he winked at you to try and soften you up.

Next his right hand moved to brush your hair behind your shoulder. He could feel the tension sitting at the back of your neck and across your shoulders without really touching you.

“Ross,” you mithered, “I’m trying to drive.”

“Pull in ‘ere, let me do the last bit.”

“Sweep in and take the glory, true United fan.”

“No,” he spoke, voice level. “I can feel your apprehension, and I want you to relax. Pull in.”

Sighing, you felt your fingers reach for the indicator before you could stop them, signaling that you were moving to the curb. His belt was off him before you had actually stopped, an annoying beeping sound filling the car to signify someone wasn’t wearing their seatbelt as it was still in operation.

You undid your seat belt slowly, watching him wait at the front of the car as traffic moved around. When it became clear, he rounded the car to your side, opening your door for you and giving you space to get out.

“Any CDs in the glove compartment?” He asked when you were stood in front of him. “Driver's choice.”

You rolled your eyes knowing you were about to endure some scream-o band from the early noughties with heavily distorted guitar sounds and tons of drum snare.

“On you go, Passenger Princess. I’m not changing my mind.”

You squinted your eyes up at him, as he patted twice at your backside.

Watching him in your car, fixing the seat for his long legs always did things to you. It felt like an age since you had last seen him drive, hands moving smoothly over the steering wheel and placing the gear stick into first to pull off.

The finesse he showed was always far more attractive than it should be and you always remembered so vividly the first time he had taken you on a drive in America in this fancy old car that just wasn’t responsive.

You had felt on edge the entire time. Ross? He was so calm. So in control. Taking it all in his stride. Not at all bothered about driving on the opposite side of the road than when you were both home.

It weirdly comforted you. Made you feel safe, secure. Here was a man who was exactly everything you had ever wanted. A little bit geeky, a whole lot manly. Able to act the fool when he felt it, but sweep in and put the pieces back together when needed.

Grateful is what you were.

He must’ve felt it too, because as he pulled out back onto the road and got comfortable, his left hand found its spot atop your thigh. You quickly encased it with both of yours, weaving the fingers of your right hand through his before using your left to gently stroke at the top of his hand, knuckles and forearm.

“Woah, what’s this wanker doing ‘ere?,” he broke the silence with his high pitched and incredulous tone, followed by “ya could fucking indicate, mate!”. You watched as Ross turned the wheel with his right hand alone and looked through his mirrors, almost asking himself silently if those around him could actually drive.

“Doesn’t he have right of way?”

“No, he fucking does not.”

The delivery of his response was so deep and astute you bit back your laugh, before lifting his hand to your lips; giving in and chuckling against his skin.

Of course, he didn’t!

(He absolutely did).

***

The Isle of Skye was renowned for its beauty. A hidden gem of sorts within the Scottish islands. Known for its rugged landscapes, picturesque fishing villages and medieval castles, the largest island in the Inner Hebrides was to be your home for the next seventy-two hours.

The feeling you got when you drove over to the coast via the bridge that connected it to Scotland’s northwest was like no other. You heard Ross chuckle under his breath at the way you let go of his hand and clambered for your phone so you could film the scenery around you, mountains and hills that were awash of oranges and browns, with the odd bit of greenery clinging on even though you were fully in the throes of autumn.

Panning your camera across the car, you filmed his profile as he drove with poise along the bridge, barely any cars in front of you giving an open road feel. He looked at you from the corner of his eye when he felt you filming him, this devilish grin lifting at his mouth as you watched him through the camera lift your hand to his lips then placing it against the side of his face.

“Eyes on the road, Romeo,” you replied to his non-verbal action, stroking his cheek with your thumb, before gently turning his head away to look through the windscreen.

The rest of the drive had been quite a damp one, the heavens opening and rain battering down onto your car. With about fifteen minutes to go, you wrapped yourself up in Ross’ hoodie, glancing over at him to see him sat further forward in his seat as he wiped at the inside of the window which was misting up.

You fiddle around with the blowers to help him, blasting them up to the highest they would go and seeing the way the hot heat helped clear the windscreen slightly.

The sat nav told him to take the next right, the car dropping down to 15mph due to the narrow streets that he was driving around and then it was the next left to take you to the cottage that was nestled in the village of Elgol.

The beauty of Elgol was something the two of you had discovered and became captivated by over his short and sweet summer break after attending a wedding of his brother's friend.

During those four days, you had spent time exploring the breathtaking coastline and ventured on scenic walks through the landscapes that were so often talked about when it came to Skye.

When you had last been there, you had been able to experience the perfect balance of seclusion and adventure, which was exactly what you and he had been after for the longest time.

“We’re going to be rained off,” he mumbled, a little agitated as he pulled the car to halt outside your cottage for the next three days.

“You say that as if there isn’t plenty for us to do inside.”

It was meant to be suggestive and you appreciated that he had picked up on it immediately, this smug smile plucking at his lips; the kind that was absolutely driven by a dirty thought or two.

“I know how much you love a game of chess, babe.”

He glanced over at you unamused, as you laughed in such a dirty way, you were almost shocked a sound like that could leave you.

“Just love it, me.”

His deadpan was second to none. It was definitely one of your favourite things about him: made the list of the top five favourite things ever.

“Getting really good at it.”

“And who’s told you that?” He dropped his head back against the headrest and rolled his face to the side to look at you. He was currently on a losing streak, truth be told.

“Hey, Waughy and I talk. Usually when I’m waiting for you to reply to my text but you’re too hungover to pick your head up off the pillow.”

“Oh, I see how it is, fraternising with the enemy. Giving him all my tricks.”

You rolled your lips into your mouth, breathing deeply through your nose. “Not all of them.”

Those words were weighty.

There were some things John didn’t need to know about his friends. Things that were for only you and Ross.

A silence fell over you both, filling the car. You kept your eyes on each other, Ross’ occasionally falling over your features and dropping to your lips. He’d stare at them for a while, before they’d lift and he’d start the process all over again.

He did this a lot when he was away, sometimes in person like now after he had dared to take the flight, or other times through the phone when FaceTiming from California, or New York, or Perth. It was like he needed to memorise you in some way, just in case you changed by the time he got home.

You took him in too, his usual hair less sleek as flyaways made their presence known thanks to the damp moisture in the air. His skin wasn’t as perky as usual, a little sallow in colour but regardless he was still the most handsome man you knew.

Under his loving gaze, you shivered. It was probably more from the cold than anything, but that didn’t stop the light blush invading.

“Best get you inside and warm,” he spoke. “Gonna have to make a run for it.”

You giggled to yourself as you opened your door, breath catching in your throat when the cold splashes of rain hit you. You turned briefly to see Ross using his long stride to his advantage, jogging to the blue front door of your cottage and moving from side to side to keep himself from going numb as the November cold whipped around him.

Car door slammed behind you, you held your bag in your hand and ran to stand next to him, both trying to cram yourself into the alcove under the thatched room.

Your hands shook as you fiddled with the keys. Trying your best to align it with the lock. He watched from the side of you as you shivered on the front door step, all-natural radiance and slightly sodden, swaying from side to side as you tried to keep warm.

“Come ‘ere,” his deep voice chuckled, unable to watch you struggle any longer, gently taking the keys from you and pushing them into the lock. “How are you so fuckin’ freezing and you’ve even nicked my jumper?”

You didn’t answer him, instead opting to push the door open the minute he’d unlocked it and prayed that the owners had left some kindle for the open fire so that Ross would be able to sort it immediately.

***

One warm shower later, you stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the lounge, eyes moving over the scene in front of you. Hair thrown up in a messy bun atop your head, the tartan pyjamas you had purposely packed were loose against your frame.

Ross has disappeared into the bathroom about thirty minutes ago now to wash away the travel, his rendition of And She Was muffled but still present over the sound of the shower.

You’d spent that time going through the welcome pack that was filled with freshly baked bread courtesy of the owners, a burgundy white wine which boasted buttery tastes of peaches and citrus zest, and of course a bag of coffee that sounded completely to Ross’ fancy.

With the bottle uncorked, you poured yourself a glass, quickly placing it into the fridge to keep it chilled. Regardless of it edging closer to winter by the day, there was nothing worse than room temperature wine.

Shoulder pressed to the door jamb, you sipped at the alcohol and rested the cool glass against your lips.

The Nest as it was known, was definitely romantic. All thatched roof and spectacular panoramic views which overlooked Knock Castle and across the Sound of Sleat to the Knoydsrt mountains.

Inside it was all vintage French fabrics and fine linen. With its sheepskin rugs and real wood fire stove, the cottage was described as the “perfect getaway for couples looking to explore and return to comfort after a day walking in the hills and mountains”.

While your exploring had only consisted of you carrying your items from the car and into the cottage, you were definitely ready to get cosy next to the fire and relax in the lived-in space.

“Forgot my clothes,” he spoke in a hushed tone not wanting to break the serene silence when he spotted you across the room. His voice slowly tapered off as he took in the particular tartan pattern that you were donning, recognising it to be that of his own family name.

The smirk that lifted at his lips, and the flare of his nostrils as he inhaled deeply let you know he had caught on. As tribal as it was, you didn’t mind the way his eyes ravaged you.

Your eyes ran over him without shame in return, his hair wet and sitting against his shoulders, lines of water dripping down his hairy chest and over the tops of his broad shoulders. The delicate chain that he always wore was decorative against his neck.

His right hand held a white towel securely at his hips, clenching at the fabric as he glistened and walked closer to you.

“Any of that going spare?” He nudged his head towards the wine, causing you to peel your eyes away from him and down to your own glass. When you looked back at him, he was so close to you you had to tilt your head back slightly.

“Depends,” you started, watching his eyebrow quirk up at you with intrigue. “Are you planning on sitting around in that towel, or covering yourself up?”

The crackle of the fire cut through the room and your question.

“How’d you want me?”

***

Ross opted for clothes, which meant he had to pour his own glass of wine when he came back from getting dressed. Rather than giving him a verbalised answer earlier, you’d flirtatiously tugged at his right wrist trying to get him to drop the towel.

“Towel stays on babe,” he had whispered against your lips, wet hair moving to almost curtain around you. “This cold won’t do anything for my ego.”

You rolled your eyes at him bringing up “winter penis”, which if you recalled correctly had been a topic of conversation a few nights ago when he had called you from Toronto. A conversation that had started with the guys, and one he thought fitting to continue with you.

It wasn’t, but you’d rolled with it. Mainly because at the time of the call you could hear the stage whisky fuelled slur and wanted to humour him.

You had fawned over him in that moment, openly discussing the size of his dick and before you knew it you were engaged in particularly erotic dirty talk while you sat and ate your Weetabix. Time zones were fucking bizarre, but you did what you had to to survive tour. That’s just how it was.

“You know the other morning when you phoned me and started talking about your dick,” he hummed, wanting you to continue. “I was eating breakfast-“

“Was it any good for you?”

“The Weetabix? Ten out of ten.”

He laughed, his head falling back against the cushions as he sat on the floor with his back resting against the bottom of the sofa.

“Cheers,” he bit back in good humour, looking at you upside down.

You let your fingers run gently across his brow, thumb stroking at his forehead as you softly smiled. “You know how I feel about your dick,” you whispered.

“Do I?”

You hummed your response of “yes”, voice light and airy.

“Why are we whispering?” He asked. You shrugged. “They deliver cocktails to this cottage, did ya know that?”

You hummed again, watching him flip through the menu he was holding. His fingers tapping at one of the cocktail names, “Reckon I’d like this one.”

Leaning down and looking over his shoulder you read the title.

Highland Fling. How predictable.

You chose to stay silent as you read the few lines explaining it underneath its bolded title.

The Highland Fling cocktail is a bold, robust and a slightly sweet drink with a flavour of citrus. The smoky and rich flavours of the Scotch whisky are balanced by the sweetness of Drambuie and tart lemon juice. Mixed together they create a complex and satisfying taste experience.

The cocktail is a popular choice among whisky enthusiasts and those who appreciate the rich history of Scottish culture.

“Technically we’re not in the Highlands,” you paused, glancing over at him and seeing his rich eyes were already on you. “For someone who likes to think they’re Scottish, you’ve fucked it there.”

He raised his eyebrows. Touché.

“Spoilsport.”

You leant forward to soothe him with a peck to the lips, whispering against his mouth, “Get four of ‘em.”

***

Before you knew it you were both a few cocktails deep, glasses lined up either side of you on the floor where you sat.

As he looked over at you, he knew you were at the very least buzzed by the soft flush that littered your cheekbones. He had zoned out at whatever it was you were talking about, too engrossed by the way you shone as you talked to him.

He knew he was fucked, in more ways than one. Hopefully literally, at least later on, but that thought could wait for another hour or two. Loving someone and being in love were different things, and in that moment he knew he was in love with you. He knew a lot of things actually; like he knew he needed to ask you to marry him before the tour was out.

He didn’t know how, he didn’t know when but he knew he had to make it happen.

Maybe he could find some time in the new year, whisk you away somewhere warm to fight away the January blues. At least that’s what he would tell you.

With your feet in his lap, you leant back on your right hand as you sat on the floor, left holding your fifth cocktail to your lips. It was something pink and fruity - watermelon or strawberry based, he couldn’t quite remember - but the way it was staining your lips was all too satisfying.

“I actually think he has a soft spot for me now,” you spoke softly, humming and closing your eyes as you felt his hands move to massage your feet.

“Who?”

You spoke the name of his eldest nephew, seeing the way his eyes smiled at the mention of his brother’s son, when yours fluttered open and looked back at him.

“He’s always liked you,” he reassured, hand rubbing gently along your calf. He liked you talking about his family so breezily, even if you were showing a need to be liked by his three year old nephew in this scenario.

You shook your head, biting down at your lip. “No one compares to Uncle Ross.”

“Uncle Ross, is really fucking cool that’s why.”

He widened his eyes to emphasise what he was saying, wondering how he wasn’t cringing at describing himself as cool.

“Pretty fit too.”

He looked at you over the rim of his glass as he stalled his movement to drink; holding your eyes with his he let his lips encase the rim of the glass. They were dark and smouldering, never leaving your face. There was no chance he didn't know what he was doing; he didn’t need to verbalise how much he wanted you at that moment.

“How fit we talking?”

You breathed deeply, a blissful sigh leaving you on exertion. “So fit.”

He laughed down his nose, the additional sip of his cocktail he had taken now swallowed.

“Really eloquent.”

“I know,” you played along, voice breathy. “The most eloquent, but tell me I’m wrong.”

In goading fashion you pressed your foot gently into his stomach, feeling his hand clasp around the top from your action.

“Behave.”

“Make me.”

Ross pulled at your leg then, hand curling under your knee, needing you closer. Your joyful squeal turned into a throaty laugh as you threw your head back and somehow found yourself in his lap.

He was back against the sofa then, hands sliding up the back of your pyjamas and gripping gently to the nape of your neck. He guided your face down and towards him. His mouth smiled against yours, the two of you too happy to engage in a proper kiss.

Giving up, he slid his lips across your cheek and underneath your chin as you tilted your head back and breathed his name. He gently nipped at your throat, tongue licking and tasting your skin which was slightly salty due to the heat within the room from the roaring fire.

Your fingers were woven into the hair at the nape of his neck, pushing upwards underneath where his hair tie sat, to try and loosen his bun. His hair was still damp from where it had been tied up after his shower hours earlier, and the cool strands felt delightful to your fingertips.

“I fucking love you in this,” he confessed, face buried in your chest as he finally acknowledged you wearing his family tartan. His right hand had a strong hold on your back, hand splayed between your shoulder blades as you leaned back.

His left was fumbling with the buttons of your pyjama top, desperate to rid you of the clothing item. Your mind was telling you to help, but you were too engrossed by the feeling of his lips suckling at your sternum.

“Babe,” you gasped, when you felt him nudge the fabric away with his nose, mouth wet along the top of your boob before he enclosed his lips around your exposed nipple. A satisfied moan left you, as you stroked down the back of his neck and lightly grazed your nails over his skin.

His fingers were firm, deftly plucking at the remaining buttons of your top like the strings of a bass as he grew confident. Top now sat open, his hands were quick to encourage you to move yours from around his neck, so he could slide the sleeves off.

Ross was so immersed in you, the smell of your skin and the way your breath got caught in your throat as he lapped at your nipple.

“Your tits are incredible.”

The comment was boyish and almost lost against your skin. It made you smile, teeth biting down at your bottom lip as he switched boobs.

“I missed you too,” you replied, humour lacing your words.

From your response you felt him lightly trace his nose against your breastbone, he tilted his face back to look up at you, his chin resting at your chest. Your hands moved to gently cup at his face, Ross turning slightly to press his lips to the inside of your palm.

His eyes were imploring as they looked up at you, silently watching you slide your top off completely and aimlessly throw it away before welcoming you back to him by sliding his hands up your bare back and applying a small amount of pressure to your shoulder blades to pull you down to him.

He had missed you. He didn’t need to voice it literally at that moment. It was in his gaze, his touch, the way his fingers dug into your skin as he held you.

You cupped his cheeks, the sound of both your inhales mixing just before your lips met and his face became blurred to you. He started off delicately, almost allowing you to process the feeling of his beard beneath your right hand, and his lips against yours. It wasn’t long until a fervent, urgent need overtook, building from this graduation of intensity that had you clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in your ever-changing world.

Ross’ mouth was insistent as he parted your lips and it evoked a sensuality within you that you had missed the minute he had parted from you all those months prior. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, gentle but demanding, causing a swimming giddiness to overflow your being.

You smiled at the smacking sound of your lips audible, like two teenagers necking on. Faltering lips and a low and muffled moan omitting against your mouth from him as you curled your fingers in his hair and lightly pulled.

Fighting a losing battle, Ross’ lips moved messily down your chin and to your neck. He paused momentarily, holding you against his body before moving to lay you back against the sheepskin rug. It felt sleek and inviting against your skin and you looked down your body at him waiting on his next move.

“Thought about you fucking me on this carpet when I booked this place,” you softly voiced like it was some lewd confession and not one you were sharing with your long term boyfriend.

This wicked glint flickered across his gaze and the smuggest grin you had sworn he had ever worn lifted at his lips; slowly he sat back on his haunches and started to unbutton his top. His eyes were everywhere; at your bare chest, on the sea of hair that haloed above you.

“Did ya?”

Looking down at him, you nodded happily wearing your soft blush and lifted your hand to try and reach for the bottom of his shirt to help him remove it quicker.

“Lured me here under the pretense of wanting a nice little getaway,” he teased. “Really just wanted to have your way with me.”

His eyes took in the way you looked at him, all doe-eyed and biting gently down on your bottom lip. You weren’t going to deny it; why would you?

You instead reached for his hand. The heat and wetness between your legs felt all too inviting, desperate for his touch. He palmed you over the top of your underwear so easily, dexterous digits swiping at your clit in the right way.

“Don’t start without me,” he paused, as your eyes started to close from the feel of his fingers. His lips pressed to your warm cheek when he continued, “Let me go get some condoms.”

As he rose to his feet, he quickly stripped his lower half leaving him naked, unphased and all bare bottom as he walked away. It wasn’t lost on you the use of the plural.

Starting without him was exactly what you needed, fingers caving and picking up where he left off: gently rubbing at yourself and spreading your wetness over your clit.

“Hands,” his chided when back in the lounge, hearing a soft whine escape you and seeing your hands move to easily rid you of your pyjama trousers. When you returned to your place on the floor, you watched the strip of condoms bounce to the carpet next to you, from his relaxed throw.

“Someone’s confident,” you casually commented, gazing up at him through hooded eyes and taking in the open wrapper that was placed between his teeth. He smirked around it, head dropped and looking down at his hands as they adeptly rolled the latex over his erection.

Joining you back on the floor, Ross leant over and pressed a kiss to the inside of your left knee, his eyes finding yours from under his brow. He mumbled, “Some would say prepared…”

He stalled his words, lips now at your right knee. “…. Safe.”

“Sexy.”

“How’d you want me?” He queried in return, feeling your hands pulling at him.

“You decide. Just want you.”

He moved so effortlessly between your legs, them pliant in his hands and accommodating. His weight above you was always welcomed, comfortingly looming and imperturbably virile.

“Put me in,” he spoke, voice low and caught in his throat as slipped his tip between your folds. You whined around your bitten lips, reaching up to pull him down closer from where he was hovering over you.

His lips were heavy on yours once more, all tongue and hungry. He groaned against your mouth as you stroked him over the condom that he wore, hands sliding down your waist and angling your hips.

“S’yours, you know.”

You slowly smiled at his slurred and barely audible words, mouth dropping open and head falling further into the carpet as he slid into you with no resistance, bottoming out in one long, smooth stroke and the manliest “fuck me”.

Humming deeply, Ross bit around his smile as he started with shallow, teasing thrusts. A series of strokes that you found frustratingly sexy but knew as ones he wouldn’t be able to keep up due to his own insatiable desires.

“More,” you craved to feel the power you knew he held.

He listened, thrusts more measured - slow, hard and deep - knowing what you wanted and needed. Undulating and determined.

He jutted his hips forward, knocking your body with more force as you lay relaxed below him, arms above your head and boobs bouncing with each swift jolt of his thrusts as he fucked into you.

“Yes, fuck me,” you breathily moaned, head pushed back further into the floor beneath you, hands moving to the rug upon which your lay, fingers grasping at the soft material.

To think that all those hours earlier, you thought that neither of you were going to get warm. Now you almost choked around the thick air that consumed you within the room and from the roaring fire.

Ross’ thrusts kept their measured in pace, more forceful than before and you couldn’t help the blissful sighs and heavenly cries that left you lips as he devoured your sweaty skin, licking and sucking at the curve between where your shoulder and neck met.

The feeling of his touch let you know how sure of himself he was. You couldn’t disagree as your body welcomed him, receptive and pliant and willing.

He frowned along with you when he felt you begin to go taught. When you breathily gasped his name, he scooped you into him and held you against him.

Your orgasm had crept up on you, causing you to cup the back of his neck and bring his face back to yours. He was muttering words of approval into your skin, something that you couldn’t decipher that had you opening your legs wider for him.

He knew you liked it when you couldn’t quite figure out what filthy things he was saying to try and get you there. It summed up the mystique that peppered throughout your relationship.

As you shook, he sloppily fucked you through your release, hand tilting your hips up as you become slack.

“God, I love you,” you desperately gasped when you came to, face flushed and feeling clammy from the mixture of the heat from the naked flame to your right and pure exertion.

“‘Think you love fuckin’ me,” he roughly spoke, his right hand seeking yours and lacing your fingers together against the rug. You looked at him with desperate eyes, a shake of your head to his words. “No?” He sniggered down his nose, his own skin taking on a pink flush.

His other hand wound underneath your lower back, as you arched slightly, liking the way he wanted to drag it out; to roll his heavy hips into yours this entire time and making it so your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone on every thrust.

He watched your eyes roll back and your chin lifted upwards, him finding your spot once more causing you to clench around him. Ross groaned your name, begging you to look at him. Your hazy eyes found his shortly after he aired his request, hips snapping forward when you silently begged him with fucked out eyes to fill you up.

“Fuck, ‘m comin’.”

The sound of his voice was watery; choked as he groaned causing you to blissfully sigh when you felt him drop down to you, your arms enveloping his body and holding it to yours.

You ran your fingertips lightly down his back, listening to his breathing even itself out, you pressed a fluttering kiss to his temple and purred, “Welcome home, baby.”

#promptober75 #promptober #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald x you #ross macdonal fanfic #ross x reader #ross x you #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald smut #fluff writing #smut writing

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