Cate

Standing on your tip toes, you try to reach for the chocolate bar at the back of the kitchen cabinet—your favorite one that you eat whenever you feel a sweet craving. For some reason, though, whoever last unloaded the groceries must have pushed it all the way to the back of the top shelf, making the task of retrieving it difficult.

“Need help?” a deep voice rumbling in your ear makes you startle. You turn around and see none other than your stepdad, Leon. 

He’s standing close enough you can feel his hot breath tickle your ear, a small smirk splayed on his lips. He makes no move to put distance between you even as you quirk an eyebrow in his direction.

“No, I’m fine,” you huff, then bring your attention back to the unreachable chocolate.

Leon frowns, then extends a hand over your head to help you despite your protest. His chest presses to your back, his other hand bracketing you against the counter until your lower stomach touches its cool edge.

“Are you still upset?” he murmurs once he hands you the long awaited treat. But instead of stepping back, he keeps the intimate contact going.

“I said I’m fine.”

Your snappy response prompts him to take hold of your jaw to turn your face to look at him past your shoulder. “Sweetheart, don't give me attitude,” he warns.

You usually aren't one to be needlessly moody, but this time you feel justified. “I’m not giving you attitude, I just don't wanna talk...” you drop the sweet snack on the counter with a pout, no longer in the mood for it.

His firm grip loosens, and his eyes soften behind his black frames at the sound of your quiet voice. You're truly upset, and he knows he can't let you wallow by yourself without his heart aching. He starts to caress your arm up and down with one hand, his thumb rubbing your chin back and forth with the other. 

“Come on. Talk to me, baby…” he tries to coax. “You know how much I hate it when you're upset.”

And like magic, you open up just like that—he barely even had to try. “It's just… You held her hand at lunch.” Your eyes meet his with kicked puppy ones. 

Leon sighs, immediately understanding the cause of your state. Jealousy—a common issue with this 'arrangement’ you have going with him. 

“Honey…” he exhales lowly.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. She's your wife and I’m just the step daughter you fuck in secret,” you scoff under your breath.

At that, his hold tightens on your jaw again, giving your face a light shake as he scowls. “Hey, don't talk like that. You know I don't like it.”

“But it's true,” you retort despite his intimidating demeanor.

“Baby, the only reason I haven't left your mother is because she needs me and I don't want to be cruel… One day you'll understand.”

You roll your eyes, familiar with the same spiel he gives you every time. You understood at first, empathizing with both him and your mom due to her lack of employment and needy personality. But now it just pisses you off. She can just go and find a job, so you can finally have him all to yourself, why is that so hard to do?

“No,” you swat away his touch, and take a step away to make a point. “One day you will understand when I find myself a real boyfriend that isn't afraid of holding my hand at the mall or kissing me at a restaurant. A man that's not constantly hiding me like a dirty, shameful secret!” 

Leon’s eyes darken, any softness leaving him instantly as he looks at you with a cold scowl. “Boyfriend…” he hisses bitterly. “That what you want? A little boyfriend?”

He takes a step forward, confident and unhurried, his broad shoulders tense despite him still outwardly keeping his calm. You, on the other hand, begin to panic, backing away further.

“What’s wrong with wanting a relationship?” you squeak, your voice already losing its grit.

“Oh, there's nothing wrong with that… I just hope you understand there are consequences for every choice you make.”

You gulp, your back hitting the counter. “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“What it means, darling, is that maybe you need a reminder of who you belong to before you go around threatening me with dating a little boy.”

In a split second he's caging you with his arms, his nose brushing along your jawline as he breathes you in. You feel as though you can't move. Or maybe you simply don't want to.

"It's just... It's not fair,” you retort weakly, but that just makes him nip at your neck hard enough you hiss.

"Oh, not fair, huh?” his deep voice rumbles in your ears. “Because you think it's easy for me? Having to play the role of a father, when I want nothing more than to bend you over the table and show everyone you're mine?”

You feel that familiar heat coil in your gut—the one you get whenever he gets like this: mad, but so obviously hungry for you. 

“So, if it wasn't for her… You would really show me off? Do you really mean that?” 

Your soft murmur is barely audible in his ear, but he kisses your throat as a response, a palm sliding up your spine to end tangled in your hair. 

“How many times do I have to prove that I’m obsessed with you, doll? Hm?” He knows you can't answer with the way your breathing stutters and you let out a small pleasurable sound. “See, I think the problem is you don't believe me… And I’m starting to think maybe you need me to prove it once and for all.”

Hot lava courses through your veins at the thought of him providing evidence for his dedication, and you can already feel excitement build in your pulsing cunt. “How?” you bite your lip.

Leon chuckles, then leans in just to nip at the soft flesh caught between your teeth like he felt jealous and wanted to bite it too. 

“Hm, let's see…” he contemplates for a moment before his eyes glimmer behind his glasses. “Tell me, baby, what happens when daddy makes you squirt?”

The question catches you off guard, and you answer with an awkward chuckle. “What?”

“How do you react when I do that? Go on, tell me—we’ve talked about this before.”

“I, um, get embarrassed?” 

It's hard not to when you gush all over the place, often directly onto his face. You remember a couple months prior when it even went up his nose and made him cough up and choke. You were mortified—he was outrageously amused.

“Mhm… You get all shy and embarrassed on me, don't you, sweetheart?” he tuts like a disappointed teacher.

“Yeah…”

“Well, we’re gonna fix that today. Right here, right now.”

Your eyes widen, looking around the room. “In the kitchen? Leon, she’s upstairs, she could hear us!”

He grins, his face radiating mischief you rarely see on his mature features. “Which is why you're gonna be especially good for me and stay quiet. Plus, the kitchen is perfect for what we’re about to do.”

Leon often reminds you how out of character it is for him to not only cheat, but with a younger woman who could pass as his daughter. He seems to hold a lot of guilt over it—one of the true reasons he hasn't left your mother yet. However, it makes moments like these where he lets his playful side come out all the more exciting—and terrifying.

“What are you plan—” you suddenly yelp mid sentence when he lifts you by the waist just to plop you down on the counter. He doesn't pause before he’s reaching under your mini skirt to pull down your red panties.

“For future reference, you can't be mad at me while dressed like this, doll,” he chuckles with a head shake. 

He knows your teasing games all too well. After all, you're the one who kept pushing every one of his buttons at first until he gave in and finally fucked you stupid. In a weird way, you're proud of yourself for having converted the saint-like Leon S. Kennedy into a bad man. You just didn't expect him to be a covert freak when he started railing you in every possible position on every possible surface. Including his marital bed.

With your underwear tucked neatly in his pocket—you won't get that one back—he leans in to give you a slow, lingering kiss, while his hand travels up your inner thigh. His thumb brushes your slit, and he hums in satisfaction at the light dampness that has already started to form by his sheer proximity.

“You're so reactive for me, baby… Already getting wet when I haven't done anything.”

You shiver, swallowing his words with another kiss that you deepen by pulling him by the collar, causing his glasses to slide lower on the bridge of his nose. That seems to affect him, because he doesn't waste any more time and goes straight to rubbing your clit with precise circles. 

“Fuck, Leon,” you start whimpering. 

You’re not used to him going straight to the point. He always likes to take his time to play and tease. Sometimes even during quickies where you might risk getting caught. But he doesn't care so long as he has you turn into a trembling mess against his skin, it's like the moment he sees your pussy he's in a trance. You’re lucky if he lets you off after only two orgasms—not that you're complaining.

“Do you wanna know what I have in mind, pretty girl?” He pauses his ministrations just to suck on his fingers, humming at the taste of you and wetting them further at the same time, before he’s pushing a digit slowly into your warm cunt.

“Y-yeah, tell me, daddy,” you moan, any anxious thoughts about alerting your mother gone out the window.

He kisses your cheek tenderly while slightly curling the finger inside you. “I’m gonna make you squirt enough times to fill up a fucking mug—then you’re gonna watch me drink it all up until there's none left.”

Your breathing stutters, but he doesn't give you enough time to react before he’s steadily finger fucking you, pressing on that spongy spot he knows makes you gush for him. You quickly clasp a hand on your mouth, the other gripping his bicep hard. He doesn't wait long then adds a second finger inside your slick pussy, using his thumb to rub your clit just right.

With your thighs beginning to tremble, you wonder why he's not using his free hand to toy with your nipples like usual, but then see him reach for an actual mug off the dish rack and you nearly scream. He brings it just below your cunt, before speeding up his ministrations.

“You’re gonna cum, princess.” It’s not a question. He simply knows.

“Fuck, daddy— Too fast—” Your muffled protests die in your throat when an orgasm crashes down on you hard, your walls spasming around his digits. 

Through the mind fog of pleasure and quivering muscles, you remember to keep your voice down as much as you can behind your palm. But Leon doesn't care to praise you for it, he’s too focused on catching the squirt of clear liquid your pussy is dispensing just for him.

“Like my personal little water fountain,” he grins, amused, before kissing you again. The fingers inside you don't stop, however, and soon he's whispering, “again, baby.”

“Leon, w-what the hell?” you whine, but then grip the edge of the counter so as not to topple off it as he wrecks your cunt. You can't even process your embarrassment when he won't let you catch your breath.

With a whimper, you rest your forehead on his shoulder and he coos, praising you softly. “My good girl… Always so sweet for me. Getting jealous as if I’d ever look elsewhere when I have all this,” he chides.

The liquid inside the mug—which you only now realize is his ‘World’s Best Husband’ one—sloshes with every movement he makes, trying to keep it balanced even as his other hand jerks. He sucks your neck gently, careful not to leave a mark even though he wants to, until he feels your walls begin to tighten around him again.

“Already?” he drawls smugly. You would scoff if you weren't too busy moaning into his t-shirt.

“I—ngh…” you make unintelligible sounds of pleasure.

He suddenly stops, retrieving his hand completely just to shove his fingers in your mouth. You nearly gag but he's careful not to go in too deep, although the sadistic glimmer in his eyes tells you he wouldn't mind that.

“What is it, doll? Can't hear you,” he mocks your gurgled protests. “Want me to keep going?”

You nod eagerly, sucking on his skin like it's the only thing keeping you afloat. But you know better by now. It won't be that easy to get him to listen.

“If you wanted me so bad, you wouldn't be talking about going off to other men, princess…”

He retrieves his hand from your mouth just to hear your pathetically sweet pleading. “I didn't mean it— Fuck, you know I didn't! I was just trying to get under you skin, I p-promise— Please, daddy, don't stop…”

He nods slowly, swirling the mug in his hand just to further your humiliation, before condensingly cupping your glistening cunt. 

“Apologize, little girl.”

His tone makes your toes curl, a needy moan slipping past your lips. “I’m s-so sorry, daddy. Didn't mean it, I swear!”

“That's right. You didn't. Just like how I don’t mean a single thing with her, because I can only think of my sweet girl the entire time… Do you get it, doll?”

Not really, but you’re not about to argue while you hump his hand like a bitch in heat. So you nod nonetheless, whimpering out a ‘yes, daddy’ that he rewards with the return of his fingers inside your needy pussy. He resumes the motion of his digits he knows drives insane, and it's all you can do not to scream as you hide in the crook of his neck.

“Good girl,” he praises in pure cockiness. "You're lucky I'm feeling nice today."

Soon enough, you're cumming again, and he intently presses inside you to get you squirting as much as possible to a success. The sound of more water hitting the wet surface in the mug is so obscene, you feel you face heat up in even more mortification.

“Enough,” you breathe out in embarrassment, more water spraying on his clothes and even the floor.

He simply bites your ear in retaliation. “Shush. Keep being a good little girl for me and keep that pretty mouth shut.”

It’s ridiculous how much you get affected by his commands, especially when has you melting like putty in his arms. If you weren’t gushing like a slut into his morning coffee recipient, you would be much more willing to put up a fight.

He seizes the moment while you’re compliant to bring the cup to his face, examining its contents’ level. “Hm,” he clicks his tongue, “I think I need one more to really fill it up, babe.”

And just like that, he’s pumping into your pussy again while you cry beautifully for him. You don't even know how he does it so expertly to the point he will make you squirt whenever he feels like it, like he found a secret button in your cunt that turns you into a leaky faucet.

“Daddy,” you whine, wrapping both arms around his bicep to his great delight while you lose it completely. 

“Yeah, doll, daddy’s right here… You just need someone to take care of you, don't you? Worried daddy will leave again?” He kisses your hair repeatedly while your body contorts and trembles against his. “Don't worry, darling. This daddy is never leaving.”

That was the last straw before you’re propelled into another climax, biting down on his shoulder not to be loud while you drench his hand and top up his cup. Once the exploding knot in your lower belly calms down, you’re left boneless on the marble surface, and he finally retrieves his pruned fingers with a loud squelsh.

“Fucking hell, princess, look at this…” He brings up the mug for you both to observe, filled to the brim with the water you so generously provided. “Got me thirstier than ever,” he grins.

Post-nut clarity hits you like a truck when you realize he’s truly about to gulp down your squirt from a fucking cup. “Wait, Leon, you’re not actually gonna drink it, right?”

“After all the trouble I went through to get it? You bet your ass I will." The proud smirk on his face lets you know he is completely serious, and even more so when he brings the rim to his lips.

But before he can take a sip, the sound of footsteps jolts you both, and you jump off the kitchen counter faster than you can blink. In a split second, you're three feet away, opening up the fridge like you're simply browsing for cold drinks, while he crosses his arms with the mug still in hand in the picture of nonchalance. Thank fuck his clothes are dark enough to hide the wet patches.

"Hey, you two," your mother greets as she walks in. She seems completely oblivious to the filthy that just transpired in her absence as she opens a cupboard. "Did we run out of crackers?" she tsks, rummaging the shelves.

"I believe a little mouse got to them first, sorry," Leon grins, shooting you a wink behind the frames hanging low on his nose.

Unbeknownst to the older woman, you and him have a habit of enjoying nocturnal activities then consuming post coital snacks like greedy gremlins. It would be cute if not outrageously offensive—not only do you fuck her husband but you also gobble down the poor woman's crackers? You already know you're going to hell.

"Well, I guess I'll have to run to the store anyway," your mother sighs before turning to the man of your dreams. "Coffee at 3 p.m.? Seriously, Leon? I better not hear you complaining about bad sleep later."

He huffs, fingers tightening on the handle before extending his hand to show her it's clear contents to your great mortification. 

"It's not coffee. Just water in my favorite mug."

"You do love that mug," she smiles sheepishly, knowing she got it for him on his previous birthday.

Without missing a beat, Leon grins right as you close the fridge to take your leave, before tilting the cup to his mouth and taking a loud, audible gulp. You feel your left eye twitch.

"Hah... It just makes everything taste all the more refreshing," he drawls once he’s drank half of it, eyes fixated on your frozen form. If he had supernatural vision, he would see your soul leave your body.

"It's good to keep hydrated during this hot weather, honey," your mother nods approvingly.

Leon smiles like a devil in disguise before swallowing down the rest of your warm, sweet squirt like an absolute freak. His throat bobs, Adam's apple moving with every sinful gulp while excess beads drip down his chin and neck. He makes no effort to wipe them off. In fact, he hums at the flavor like it's the best thing he's ever tasted while his marriage band clinks against the ceramic. 

"So good," he murmurs with wet lips once he finishes it all—just like he promised.

Your mom chuckles innocently at his antics, then turns to you with a curious smile. "You okay? Or is the heat getting to you too?"

"I, um, y-yeah..."

She shakes her head fondly, then walks to the exit with a wave. "Just text me if you need something. I'll get ice cream as well."

"'Kay... Thanks." 

"Thank you, honey," Leon adds with a mischievous smirk, though you know it's directed at you with the way he eyes you so intently. Once the other woman is out of earshot, he sets the cup down with a clink. "Still think I'm not obsessed with you, doll?" 

"No, um, I think you made your point perfectly clear..." you admit shyly.

"That's what I thought…” he chuckles, then makes a come hither motion with his still wet fingers. “Now get your ass over here and stop acting like a virgin. We both know you like it filthy, and I'm not done proving myself just yet, sweetheart."

don't ask me anything, idk what the fuck this is either, but i'm just warming up for dad!leon so don't mind me 🤓

honest to god you'd been stealing glances at him for a whole year -- and this was the question that kept running into your head: fuck you needed that dick in your desperate pussy.

Soon enough, Claire followed your gaze and snorted heavily, as she looked down at the zipper of the DSO agent, while nearly choking on the air. "Maybe it is heavy," she grinned, her tone dripping with knowing amusement.

"Probably," you agreed, licking your lips while watching his cock straining against his zipper.

Just then, Leon finished his conversation with the logistics officer and made his way toward you, all loose-hipped confidence and curious dark eyes. "So what is heavy?"

"Your cock," you blurted out then immediately wished the ground would swallow you whole, as the blood rushed to your face and you stared at him in absolute horror.

and you knew nothing you say gonna make him forget what you had just said.

God, you were hopeless.

Claire made a strangled sound beside you, a laugh caught halfway in her throat, she shook her head and made a gagging sound, gathering her jacket and bag with practiced efficiency. "I don't know you," she stage-whispered in your ear, though her eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter.

He completely ignored claire, instead he stared at you, "Mhm?" Leon's smirk deepened, dark eyes locking onto yours with predatory interest. "Then maybe I should show you, don't you think, darling?" Then he pauses, "maybe give you a proper education about my..." he trails off, before gazing down at his own zipper, "..cock."

"I'm out of here." Claire grabbed her jacket, and scraped her chair back, leaving you alone with the sudden, suffocating tension, with Leon.

"Well, shit," you groaned, sinking into Claire's abandoned chair, closing your eyes for a brief second, before meeting his blue orbs, in which curiousity sparkled beneath them.

Leon leaned down, his voice dropping to a murmur that raised goosebumps on your arms, and he breathed against your earshell, until you could feel his musky smell, spread over you, "Meet me at the Sunflower Hotel at 8 PM," he breathed, and you felt the warmth of his exhale against your skin. "Room 412. I'll..." he pauses, for a second looking at you seeing or searching for any look of hesitation, and when you didn't show him any, then he smiled and his hand found your knee, thumb tracing a slow, maddening circle against your jeans. "...satisfy your curiousity thoroughly."

Then he straightened himself, and guided his hands up towards your face -- and dragged his thumb once, twice, across your lower lip, and looked at you with a similar longing you have been looking him at for a whole year.

You met his gaze with the same unguarded intensity, your eyes speaking plainly: I want this too. I want you.

He caught it immediately and his smirk deepened with a slow satisfied smile — and he stepped back, putting deliberate space between you. The loss of his heat felt like a physical wound in your chest, which made you pout a little. "Eight," he reminded you, smirking at your dismayed reaction, then he mouthed 'I will make it up to you'.

You nodded, biting your lip then he turned and walked away, each measured step a promise, his silhouette cutting through the dim room until he disappeared through the door.

You sank back into the chair, your thighs clenching involuntarily together, against the throbbing ache he'd left coiled low in your belly.

At least now you had something to count the hours for — and God help you, you intended to savor every minute of the it.

...

"now, did you get your answer if it's heavy?" he groaned, grinding against that tender spot inside you once more.

"Fuck—fu—yes!" you cried out as he hovered over you, your tits bouncing and he rocks his hips against yours until his full, heavy cum filled sac presses flush against your perineum, and you scream out his name in a low guttural sob.

He kept driving into you relentlessly, each thrust deeper than the last, his breath hot and ragged against your ear. "God, darling," he groaned, thrusting his hips with practiced precision until the curve of his cock dragged perfectly across your g-spot.

Your jaw clenches, and his eyes squeezes shut as that exquisite pressure coiled tight inside you, building toward the edge. "I want an answer," he demanded, through his gritted teeth, and he moaned out your name, like a chant.

You try to speak but your jaw instead your jaw just slacks open, your voice lost somewhere in please then soon you manage, "Yes—God, Leon, yes—your cock is so fucking heavy," you gasped out.

A proud, satisfied smirk crossed his lips. "Thought so."

"Fuck, I'm close darling," he warned, and you felt him thicken inside you, throbbing against your walls as your own climax crested, upon him, and finally as he gave you a one last thrust your name tore out from his throat, like a poem he was hiding inside his chest for a whole while, and your walls clamped down on him, milking him as he swelled and pulsed inside you, spilling hot and thick seeds in relentless waves that tipped you over into your own shattering release, that had you curling your toes, and you moan out his name and came like it was the last thing you had done before heaven calls you.

Soon he collapsed against you, his breath ragged against your neck, and keeps twitching inside you for a longer while your own body shudders relentlesly beneath him. "Was it... everything you expected?" he asks completely flushed.

"Ye—yeah," you trembled trying to move so you could create a moment of friction inside you, already clenching around him hungrily. "Oh god, Leon... can you show me how heavy it is again? Just now, or... maybe every day?"

He laughed, breathless and smug against your shoulder. "Oh I will, my greedy darling."

For a moment his cock throbs inside your pussy which makes you chuckle as Leon remains completely unmoving before he starts to get hard again already, his thick and heavy cock inside you starts to carve its vein into your walls, and without a word, he flips you over his —hands rough pressing you face-down into the mattress, "can you take more?"

"Ye--yes", you gasp and your breath gets caught inside your lungs as he hiked your hips up, then lined himself up onto your cum dripping hole before driving his cock into you from behind, and you close your eyes, your voice getting muffled with each thrust he slams into you, too deep and punishing, and the slap of skin against skin filling the room, and he groans fisting your hair, until you moved exactly how he wanted.

After that, it was a blur — your vision narrowing to a tunnel of white heat, and your entire world starts to collapse to the relentless piston of his cock, as he drives into you again and again, burning himself so deep inside you felt scorched raw and stretched beyond bearing like he was rearranging your insides, splitting you open from within, for a moment you felt he had gonna rip your guts out, next time he pulls out, "Leon!" The shriek tore from your throat. "I don't think I can do it anymore—"

"You can." His voice was low, but there was certainity in it, and his one hand twisted even tighter in your hair, wrenching your head back until your spine arched and the other came down hard—against your ass in a loud -- Crack, the sting blooms hot and red inside your core, and you scream -- his name in a low moan of pleasure.

"Good girl. One more for me, yeah?"

"Oh fuck—" The words barely make it out, in a strangled scream, as you try to nod, and your jaw slack open, and you feel your body surrender to his.

Then the pressure crests inside your lower belly in a blistering heat and it feels unbearably hot, as something unfamiliar swells deep in your core — and you break, gushing in hot, endless waves that spray across his stomach, soaking his abs, and you groan heavily and your legs finally turning to jelly and you drench the sheets beneath you both in slick, shameless torrents. He looks down at it, smirking. "Oh fuck," he breathes. "Knew, my good girl, could give it to me."

He smirks, "now my turn," he groans, while he keeps driving into you, in relentless pace, and a second later you feel your insides turning to mush beneath him, utterly undone — taking everything he gives until you're nothing but heat and pulse and the brutal rhythm of his cock. "Fuck-- you-- oh-- shit Leon, I am gonna pass out!"

"Soon", he grunts, "I will be done soon, try to keep your pretty eyes open for me, yeah ", you groaned trying to keep up with him.

Then he shifted his full weight onto you, pinning you completely beneath — your chest to his back, heavy and immovable and showed you exactly how overwhelming he could be.

The crush of him feels everything you wanted and the heat of his body seeps into you and the way you couldn't move even if you'd wanted to -- felt more than perfect.

His mouth finds the shell of your ear, and he breathes raggedly, "This is how heavy I am." Then he rolls his hips one last time inside you until he was spilling once again, and you yelp, your walls squeezing every drop of his seed inside you, "there you go", he chuckles, and finally holds your waist nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Satisfied?"

"Very." You smiled, sleepily and sated with contentedness as he pulled you flush against his chest while still pumping into you in slow, languid rolls, he does not pull out, but now you weren't sure anymore if you wanted him to.

As he finally stops twitching inside you and holds the back of his hand through your waist and squeezing it in a reassuring way, he groans low and spent, and finally pulls away his hand away for a second making you frown but then he shifts and reaches down wiping his seed that was dripping down your joint bodies, before he reaches and feed it to you, painting his skin with his release, "Open, wide, darling".

you obeyed him like a good girl you were, and he keeps you flushed against him, his elbow touching your waist while he offers you his cum like a wine in chalice, and slowly you part your lips, greedily taking him in, and swirl your tongue onto the pad of his thumb, lapping away at every trace of his cum until he is completely clean, when you finally swallow, your throat works, and you moan his name like a prayer, and he keeps his eyes onto your back, almost reverently as if he was witnessing something religious. "Good fucking girl." He grins nuzzling into your skin again, and you murmur 'thank yous', or 'praises' sleepily which he could not quite make, but he knows one thing at the moment -- to not let you go.

And afterward, you simply lay there bare, thoroughly wrecked, and completely content —drifting in the lingering warmth wrapped around you.

A deep, quiet satisfaction settled into your bones, the kind that left you too blissfully exhausted to move. and as you lay there, you couldn't help but realize something that had always been true. this... Right here, beside him... had always been where your heart wanted to be.

"Leon," you whined.  "The movie is already on. The popcorn is popped."

He didn't seem to hear you. He just kept walking toward the back doors. 

As a last-ditch attempt, you added, "And I drank, like, triple my daily dose of electrolytes today."

Leon glanced over his shoulder at you. 

"You know the rules. No cuddling when I'm practically a space heater with a pulse."

You frowned. "I like you hot."

"I'll still be hot. Nothing I can do about that. I just won't be a fire hazard."

You ignored that. You were still sitting on the couch. You opened your arms. 

"Come here."

Leon paused at the back door. Looked at you. Looked at the couch. At your fuzzy socks and your hoodie and the fluffy blanket. He knew you'd get heat stroke if he cuddled you now. 

He slowly shook his head. "No."

You whined again. "Leon."

"No."

"You can't deny me cuddles."

"Just postponing them."

And then, before you could argue, he walked outside. You followed him to the backyard.

He opened the lid to the hot tub.

You groaned. "Are you seriously getting in?"

He grabbed the bag of ice from the outdoor freezer. "Yes."

"It's going to take forever."

He didn't respond. 

You tried again. Leon, that's a hot tub."

"It's a cold tub now."

"Oh, you think you can just rename things to make them fit your argument?"

He dumped the ice in. A ridiculous amount of ice. Enough that you were starting to wonder when he started this, because he'd clearly already put some work in. 

He shrugged. "Yeah. He dropped the empty bags of ice. "You'd be surprised how many times that's worked."

You stared. 

"You have a problem."

"I have a solution."

You watched your terrifying werewolf boyfriend, the lone wolf who could be the alpha of any pack he wanted, carefully lower himself into a tub full of ice water. He looked completely serious. Completely committed.

He let out a long breath as the water crept higher and higher. Up his thighs. Up the ridges of his abs. Over his nipples. 

Then he stilled. 

You sighed deeply. "How long are you staying in there?"

"Until my temperature drops below 100."

You shifted on your feet quickly. "Leon."

He hummed. 

"You know I love you, right?"

He hummed again. 

"You know this is ridiculous?"

His eyes drifted closed. A smirk tugged at his lips.

"Movie's paused?"

You shifted. "Obviously."

"Then wait. Only ten more minutes."

You sat beside the tub, watching the world's most dramatic werewolf regulate his body temperature like he was defusing a bomb.

Well, ten minutes was too damn long.

You were having cuddles now. 

You unbuttoned your jean shorts and let them fall down your legs. Tugged your shirt over your head. 

He opened one eye.

"You're not getting in."

You stuck your tongue out at him and threw a leg over the edge. 

"Oh Jesus Christ," you muttered as ice-cold water engulfed you. 

"Sweethea-" 

You held up a hand to silence him, needing your full concentration to settle lower in the water. You sink. Sink. Sink. Close your eyes. Gasp. 

When fully submerged, you plant yourself right in his lap and lace your arms around his neck, breathing against his throat. 

"Really cold," you tell him quietly, right up against his skin. 

He tried not to laugh. 

"That's the whole point. Could have just waited."

You pressed closer against him. Stubble scratched your nose. He smelled like what lingered after a hard-day's work. 

"Couldn't wait anymore."

The chuckle he'd been trying to hold back slithered out. You felt it vibrate in the back of his throat. 

"Don't laugh at me."

He pulled you closer against him. 

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"You're lucky you're cute."

He hummed again. 

You stayed like that, like two people trying to survive a snow storm, until ten minutes later. The thermometer flashed 99.8°F. 

He climbed out of the ice bath, carrying you with him, wrapped a towel around both of you, and quickly brought you inside. 

His couch was expensive. Leather. Not water resistant. He didn't give it one spare thought before throwing both of you down on it, clicking play on the remote. 

"Happy?" you asked. 

He kissed the top of your head. 

"Happy."

“Hey,” he answers, entirely confused and unsure what to think—as soon as the phone’s pressed to his ear, the only sound you sobbing, his entire demeanor changes; fear. Frantic, he asks, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“S-someone—”

You can’t finish your sentence between your erratic breaths and cries.

“Are you safe right now?” he forces himself to ask calmly, being your support the most important fucking thing right now, despite his heart and mind racing through a thousand questions, utterly unlike his fake composed voice.

“Y-yes,” you manage, pausing, and Leon’s expending every drop of his energy to be patient and let you finish. “I think so.”

“What happened?”

“I—I stabbed him, Leon…”

“Okay, okay, breathe, sweetheart. Do it with me, okay?” He instructs you, although he’s really guiding both of you through it, because god knows he fucking needs to run through this exercise too. “Deep breath in, and hold it… Now, exhale… Good. In… Out…”

God, what the fuck happened that you stabbed somebody?

Instinctually, he knows: regardless of whatever went down, whatever you’ve done, he’ll fix it.

He’ll hide the body for you; bury that secret. No matter what.

Leon continues with the breath exercises and listens dutifully to each one of your breaths until you’ve calmed down enough that you can speak.

“Tell me what’s goin’ on,” he says, still struggling a bit to keep his cool. “What d’you mean you think you’re safe?”

“T-there was a man… in my house. I was home.” You stop to take a deep inhale again and sniffle, holding back tears so you can get through this. “I don’t know if he was trying to r-rob me, or—I-I don’t know. I don’t know. I just grabbed a knife and ran upstairs,” you continue, occasionally breaking to steady yourself. “The one you gave me.”

Someone broke into your fucking home.

Leon’s free hand tightens into a fist instantly and he holds it stiff to his side, refusing to budge an inch; if he does, he might take his energy out on the wall separating him from the meeting he just abruptly exited and get himself into shit. Can’t happen.

Not now, not when you need him.

He knows you live alone. Always hated that. Wishing you had a roommate, or even a boyfriend to protect you, much as he loathed the thought of you being with someone undeserving. Someone that isn’t him.

Though he doesn’t deserve you, either. He knows that.

“He found me,” you say. “A-and then… I stabbed him. With the knife.”

You pause.

“Okay. Keep taking those long breaths for me, alright?” He gives you time, then asks, “What happened next?”

“I d-don’t know,” you stutter, panic in your voice as you try to recall tonight’s events. Fuck, he doesn’t want to make you put your head in that again, but he needs to know while it’s fresh on your mind. “He ran after that… He’s out there, Leon, and—I’ve g-got blood on my hands.”

“No, no. You don’t. Listen to me. I’m gonna get you a hotel for tonight, okay? I’ll take care of it,” Leon says, using the same voice he’s used on so many before to instill hope. “I’ll send you the address.”

This time is the toughest of all with how close he is to breaking. Giving people hope always came naturally to him, but it’s brutal when it’s you. Damn near impossible with the way his insides are churning, thinking of every possibility, picturing this stranger grabbing you, hurting you—mind running ragged on everything that could’ve happened if you’d not managed to get a swing on him with your knife—

“You got any blood on your clothes?” he asks.

“A little.”

“Change into somethin’ else. Leave anything dirty on the couch,” he continues, quick. Clock’s ticking, every second counts. “Once you get the address, go straight to the hotel, okay? I’m coming. Go there, and stay there.”

“Leon… you’re coming?”

“I’ll be there in a couple hours, okay? Can you do what I just told ya? Repeat it for me. Please.”

“I-I can,” you answer, clearing your thought and swallowing hard. “You’ll send me a hotel… go s-straight there… stay there.”

“You got it. Hold on.”

“Okay.”

Leon lowers the phone to his shoulder and sticks his head back in the meeting room, telling them he has to go, so take him off this fucking mission because he won’t take no for an answer; he’s going, whether they’re fine with it is irrelevant. Maybe he’s being too aggressive and jumping the gun a bit, but he’s heard it all before: the bargaining, negotiating to get him on the next transport in exchange for a few measly hours of freedom.

Not gonna cut it this time. In fact, after he makes his way down the halls, he stops by Hunnigan’s desk and demands he not be assigned to anyjobs, indefinitely. She starts to protest and he cuts her off swiftly, switching to getting your hotel setup for the night. You’re waiting on the line.

He’ll hear about this later, he’s sure, but when he’s like this, more fired up than she’s ever seen him? Hunnigan knows there’s no compromise to be had.

“Still there?” he asks as soon as it’s ready.

“Yeah,” you reply, shaken up, but better.

“Did you get the address?”

“Yeah. I’m… I’m about to leave.”

“I’m gettin’ in the car right now,” Leon says. “I’m gonna take care of everything, don’t worry. Don’t do anything else. You haven’t called the police, have you?”

“No,” you answer, unsteady. “Should I?”