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leon never says anything right away, always taking time to observe before reacting.
he watches the way you disappear into the bathroom before dates. the faint click of your makeup compacts, the hiss of the hairspray, the soft music you play while getting ready. by the time you step out, you’re smiling at him like it didn’t take you an hour deciding between two identical outfits.
but he notices.
notices the way your lipstick matches the blush on your cheeks. the special occasion earrings you wear only on dates. the perfume that lingers on his jackets, which change depending on the season (he likes the floral one best).
and, of course, the questions you always ask.
“does this look okay?
“is this shirt too bright?...or not bright enough?”
“will these heels match your shoes?”
leon thought it was ridiculous at first. as if there could ever be a version of you he wouldn’t look at like you hung the stars yourself.
it finally clicked one day while he was waiting outside your apartment. you were running late which was a rare occasion. when you finally appeared in front of him, you had an embarrassed smile while apologizing about redoing your makeup.
that night at dinner, he caught himself staring. you looked gorgeous, you always did. but he saw how clean your eyeliner was, how smooth your cheeks were, and how kissable your lips looked despite the plate of pasta you devoured.
the thought of you taking the time and effort to be so beautiful, just for him? that settled in his chest and followed him home.
the next morning, rather than just putting on the first shirt he sees, he pauses. his hand lingers over an old, loose academy shirt before reaching for a black fitted one instead. he remembers the way you gawked at him the first time he wore it, the memory making him chuckle.
he spends more time fixing his hair, but grows frustrated that it doesn’t move with his fingers dipped in water. that afternoon, he bought a new hair serum. one of the best, at least, that’s what the sales lady said.
he starts using moisturizer before bed and sunscreen in the morning.
he’s more generous with the cologne that made you bury your face in his neck for a second longer than usual.
even his workouts change. he still trains because he has to, but maybe he adds one more set. maybe he holds the plank a little longer. maaaaybe he does pushups before he comes to see you. you don’t seem to mind when the sleeves of his shirts began to fit tighter around his arms than they used to.
leon thought it was only fair, and he doesn’t mention any of it.
it wasn’t until one evening when you’re standing behind him in his kitchen, wrapping your arms around his waist while he’s washing dishes. your fingers squeezed the taut muscle of his abdomen.
“have you been working out more?”
leon glances over his shoulder, pretending to think about it. “...maybe.”
“maybe?” you giggle, feeling his arms. “your shirts didn’t used to fit like this.”
he dries his hands before turning around to face you. he leans against the counter, pulling you close.
“you spend a lot of time getting pretty before you see me,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “figured I should put in some work too.”
you blinked. “for me?”
he could feel his ears heating up. “didn’t seem right letting you be the only one trying.”
the look on your face (and the kisses you smothered him in) made everything worth it.
BONUS
chris stared at leon from the bathroom doorway, watching as he dripped something onto his hand before combing his fingers through his hair.
“is that…hair oil?
leon didn’t even look up. “hair serum,” he corrected.
“alright, pretty boy, what’s next? face masks? cucumber slices over your eyes?”
“why? you wanna do some? I’ve got a few,” leon said, holding up a variety of sheet masks.
chris blinked. “...why do you have so many?”
“they’re moisturizing,” he shrugged. “my girl took all the brightening ones.”
leon said it so casually that chris had to stare at him for a second before breaking into a grin. leon gave him an annoyed look through the mirror. “what?” he scoffed.
“hair serum. moisturizer. lip balm,” chris pointed at the lineup on the bathroom counter. all the bottles were on a rotating caddy, courtesy of you, of course. he plucked a bottle from the shelf, squinting at the label. “cuticle oil? since when do you care about your cuticles?”
“since someone told me to take better care of my hands,” leon snatched the bottle away from him.
chris barked out a laugh. “ain’t no way.”
“you don’t have room to talk,” leon said, organizing his caddy.
chris frowned. “what does that mean?”
leon turned around, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. he eyed chris up and down.
“my hair’s healthier. my hands are softer,” he smirked. “and I dress better than you.”
chris looked at himself in the mirror. “this shirt’s fine,” he said firmly.
“shirt from ten years ago?”
“it’s cotton.”
leon chuckled beneath his breath.
“you know…jill might like it if you put in a little effort.”
that caught chris’s attention. “...you think so?”
“yeah,” leon shrugged. “my girl gives me something to look at, I might as well do the same.”
chris rubbed the back of his neck. “pass me the serum,” he said.
hi guys sorry for absolutely 0 fics lately, life has been extremely busy & ive been focusing on my drawing instead. im finding it hard to write for s&p, and i feel bad for false promises. trying to force myself to write for it is just making me not want to write at all so im just gonna continue writing my other leon projects and hopefully my motivation for s&p will come back to me. i have written a few scenes for it im just very stuck and im feeling a lot of pressure to make sure the ending brings a satisfying finish💔
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imagine like femreader having a really high sex drive like just being really horny and needy around leon and. always wanting to jump him but he's getting old 😔 and tired so he puts her in her place (or smth, you can choose, i just had this idea of a freaked out reader and old leon)
✰ cw. 18+. established relationship. sex toy. overstimulation kinda. multiple orgasms (f!reader). unprotected p in v.
an. thank you so much for this request anon!! hope you like it <33
it had started reasonably enough. you'd tried, in your defense. you'd been good about it all week and it had been four days and you had needs and leon was right there and you'd asked nicely.
"i'm tired," he'd said, not looking up from his book.
"you're always tired lately."
"i'm getting old."
"you're not that old."
"forty three next month."
"leon that is not old—"
"tired," he said again with a finality. he turns a page.
you stared at him. "you're seriously choosing a book over me."
"it's a good book."
"i hate you," you said pleasantly, and went to the bedroom.
the toy had been a recent purchase. you'd mentioned it to him once, held it up, and he'd looked at it and then at you and said "hm" in a tone that gave you absolutely nothing to work with. you took it out now with the energy of someone trying to make a point. you tried to not be petty, to be mature.. quiet and dignified.
you managed to… for about four minutes.
it felt good and you were frustrated and four days was a long time and the sounds started soft and then got considerably less so, and somewhere in the back of your mind you were aware of this and didn't particularly care anymore.
leon read the same sentence five times.
he put the book down. picked it up. put it down again.
sat there listening to the sounds coming through the wall with an expression doing several things at once.
then he got up, walked to the bedroom, and leaned in the doorway with his arms crossed.
you looked up at him flushed and breathing hard and had the audacity to look unbothered. "can i help you?"
"just checking on you," he said.
"i'm fine."
"clearly." his eyes moved to the toy and back to your face. "don't let me interrupt."
you stared at him. "seriously?"
"go on." he nodded at the toy. a slight curve at the corner of his mouth. "you started without me. finish."
"leon—"
"make yourself cum," he said simply. "go on. since you clearly don't need me."
your face went hot. which was annoying because you were already most of the way there and he'd just made it significantly worse, standing there in the doorway looking completely unbothered while you were falling apart. you tried to look indifferent about it. you failed. and when you came it was with your eyes on him and a broken sound you couldn't quite swallow and his expression shifted into something that made your stomach drop.
"there it is," he said quietly. and finally came into the room.
he took the toy from your hand before you'd even finished catching your breath.
"hey—" you started.
"you'll get it back," he said. and settled between your thighs and pressed it to your clit and turned it on and you immediately tried to close your legs and he held them open with one hand, patiently. "you wanted this so bad," he said. "so have it."
"i already—"
"again," he said. "come one more time. prove to me this is enough. that you don’t need me." his voice is gruff.
you tried very hard not to make noise for him. you really did. you bit your lip and gripped the sheets and stared at the ceiling and lasted approximately thirty seconds before a sound slipped out that you could not in any way defend, your hips rolling up toward the toy despite everything your brain was trying to tell them.
leon made a soft sound like a proud mocking tut. "there she is."
"i hate you," you breathed.
"mhm." he kept the toy exactly where it was and watched you with dark eyes as you tried and failed to stay quiet, and when you finally came apart the second time it was humiliatingly loud and he watched every second of it.
he let you come down for exactly long enough to mock you about it.
"aw," he said. tilting his head slightly. "are you all done now?"
"don't," you said.
"all worn out?"
"leon i swear to god—"
"tired?" he asked innocently . and you grabbed his collar and pulled him down and he laughed against your mouth, low and warm.
except he doesn't laugh for long.
because the thing about leon is that he'd been holding himself together this entire time. standing in the doorway all composed, sitting between your thighs like he had all the patience in the world, keeping the toy exactly where it was while you came apart twice and made sounds you'd probably be embarrassed about tomorrow. and it had cost him. you could see it now that you were paying attention. his breathing was coming a little short, a little patchy. he shifted his weight, restless, and you looked down and looked back up and raised your eyebrows.
"leon."
"don't," he said.
"you're—"
"i know," he said, clipped.
you almost smiled. "this whole time?"
his breathing was, a little uneven, and when you reached up and curled your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss he made a sound against your mouth that was very close to a whine and very far from the composed man who'd stood in that doorway looking unbothered. his hips shifted forward without permission. his breath kept catching in these short little bursts against your lips, like he'd been clenching his teeth through it for so long that now that you were touching him he couldn't quite get himself under control.
you slid your hand down and wrapped it around him and felt how hard he was, hot and rigid, the veins along his length pulsing under your palm, and he grabbed your wrist. not stopping you. just gripping it, jaw tight, breathing hard through his nose.
"leon," you said again, softer this time.
"yeah," he said. rough. a little wrecked. and then something behind his eyes just gave out entirely. "okay. no. i can't."
and all that patience he'd been so smug about evaporated completely. he reached over and grabbed the pillow and tucked it under your hips and then he pressed forward and the first slide of him into you made you both go still for a second. you were so wet, embarrassingly so, slick and warm and your walls gripping every ridge and vein of him as he pushed in slow, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out and exhaled hard through his nose.
"god," he groaned.
he hooked your leg up over his shoulder and the angle shifted and you felt him impossibly deeper, hitting somewhere that made your eyes flutter, and when he started to move it was not slow or patient and the sounds you both made were the kind that the neighbors would probably complain about tomorrow. his hips drove forward in deep rolling thrusts, every ridge of him dragging against your walls on the pull back, and you reached up and gripped his arm and held on.
"couldn't wait?" you breathed.
"no," he said. simply and without apology. and pressed in deeper.
“gonna fill you up,” he’d said right before, voice wrecked, almost like he wasn’t meaning to say it out loud. “fill this up.” his hand pressing down just slightly, possessive, and you’d clenched around him so hard he’d moaned and his hips had stuttered.
now he looks down at you, panting, and presses a little firmer against your belly. watching your face.
“you feel that?” he says quietly.
“yes,” you breathe.
“yeah?” his thumb moves in a slow circle against your skin, that same unbothered focus he gives everything, except his voice is rough and his chest is still heaving. “you like that. being filled with me.”
it’s not really a question. he can feel the answer in the way you clench around him, still so warm and gripping onto him, and the sound you make is small and helpless.
he stays there for a long moment, hand still pressed to your stomach, neither of you moving. then he exhales slowly and drops his forehead to yours.
he presses his lips to your temple and says nothing for a while.
"not that old," you said eventually.
"no," he agreed. comfortable. satisfied. "not that old."
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Lily Gao (Ada's VA in RE4R) mentions how Ada is not usually emotional even with Leon (but in public) and now I can't stop thinking about how they are privately 🥴
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