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leon kennedy x gn!reader

Using your One Wish Willow was supposed to be a joke. What happens now that Leon Kennedy himself is in front of you, seemingly in love with everything you are?

chapter index

-> chapter one

-> chapter two

leon kennedy x gn!reader

Using your One Wish Willow was supposed to be a joke. What happens now that Leon Kennedy himself is in front of you, seemingly in love with everything you are?

word count, 1.2k, chapter two

content: reverse isekai and transmigration, inspired by Obsession (2025) fluff and angst and eventual smut. short chapters.

-> chapter one

You fell asleep again, is what happened. It was difficult, considering there was a warm body next to you now. And not just any body, but Leon’s.

Considering all the nights you came to an empty bed, it was strange. So much so that you laid stiff until you slowly eased and succumbed to slumber.

You woke up in the morning to a sleeping Leon. Beautiful, sleeping Leon. Hair tousled, expression calm.

He’d stayed on his side of the bed, curled up with his hand beneath his cheek. It made him look as if he was pouting, and you thought it was the cutest look you’d ever seen on him.

You quickly turned away. Watching him sleep was creepy. Swallowing, you carefully shifted until you could crawl out of bed. You had to clumsily lean over him, trying not to touch anywhere or wake him.

Your feet were almost on the ground when a hand shot out to grab the hem of your shirt.

“Wait,” he said sleepily. “Don’t go.”

You froze momentarily. Oh, Jesus. Now, if you thought his little grunts and moans of pain from all the times you kept him on low health were hot… his sleepy voice is hotter. You cursed at yourself before settling back down, staring up at the ceiling.

Your peripheral told you that his head was turned towards you, but his eyes remained closed. Retracting his hand, it settled between you two.

All the while, you tried to school your racing heart. You closed your eyes, taking a breath in and out. Like a pervert, you’d imagined Leon in your bed. Sure, that was true. But to have him physically there? Well, it rendered you useless. You could barely comprehend how he was with you, or how your wish worked. The unfathomable was real.

So you waited. In a restless sleep, you waited until Leon started stirring.

When he did, he gave a big ol’ yawn. You finally exhaled from relief while he stretched lazily. As he woke, you scrambled to your feet unceremoniously. He raised an eyebrow.

You cleared your throat. “Breakfast?”

“I could eat.”

Nodding, you turned and left your room in pursuit of the kitchen. There, you leaned on the counter and took another big breath.

How was this happening to you? The One Wish Willow was a novelty piece, if anything. Not an enchanted object. Yet…

Leon was only a few feet over, in your bed.

You smacked the side of your face. What does one do in this situation? Keep Leon like a pet, who has no proof of a genuine existence? Let him out into the world, and risk losing him altogether? What would any other fan do? Capcom?

You have no fucking clue. But you had to pull yourself together and make breakfast for the man sending you into a spiral.

Pancakes were easy. Warm and supple, and plain enough to make with shaky hands. You poured the batter into the pan, keeping a spatula in your grasp whilst your hip leaned against the counter.

Leon eventually emerged from your bedroom, looking soft with sleep. He trudged over before going to the counter opposite of you and hoisting himself to sit atop it.

“Pancakes?”

“Yep.”

“Nice.”

You nodded, still feeling somewhat awkward around him. Looking at him for too long felt like you were Icarus flying too high, towards the sun. So you focused your attention on flipping your pancakes, trying to ignore the domesticity in the air.

“You sleep okay?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. His blinks were still slow, with his eyes getting accustomed to the light streaming in through the window. “Better after getting in bed. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Slowly, you slid a plate over to him along with some syrup.

“Coffee?”

“Yeah. Black.”

Of course. You could have guessed that a million times over. Still, hearing his preferences from his own mouth was new. It was different. And God, did you want to know every single detail about him. Until you could recite all his favorites and habits by memory.

‘Don’t be creepy,’ you scolded yourself. You kept your expression schooled as you went over to the coffee machine and started on his mug.

Making breakfast for Leon Kennedy. Was that your life now?

You heard his feet hit the ground, as he began to dig into the stack of pancakes. Watching him chew, you were still growing accustomed to him. How his cheeks jutted out, how he held the fork clumsily like all men did. It was endearing, seeing him as a person. Rather than a man with a weapon, facing adversity… here he was, just eating pancakes. It made your heart race.

“What?” he asked, looking so cutely confused.

“Nothing!” you startled, standing straighter. “You just… have syrup on your… chin.”

His brows flitted together and he wiped himself with the back of his hand. You nodded, smiling faintly to yourself.

“Oh, uh… before I forget,” you said after a moment. “I work today.”

At this, Leon gave you a questioning look.

“You probably shouldn’t go out by yourself. You’ll get lost and stuff.”

He scoffed under his breath. Of course he did. He was a trained agent, and there you were, telling him to stay inside. He was going to anyways, but hearing it still made his ego deflate.

“Not that I mean you’re directionless. Just… listen, we’ll go out once I get home. You know, take you shopping for all your needs.”

“What, you’re letting me stay here?”

“Considering we already established that you’re not in D.C. and that I didn’t kidnap you, yeah. You can stay here.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay…”

Getting Leon to trust you fully would surely be a difficult task, but you had faith in yourself. All you had to do was treat him kindly, and BAM. Trust. Hopefully.

Prior to leaving the house, you left Leon to shower whilst you tore down anything Resident Evil related from your room, as well as your One Wish Willow. Hastily, you hid everything in your closet. You didn’t have the heart to explain anything to him. At least, not yet.

How would you even begin to tell a man that he wasn’t real?

Simple answer: you don’t.

You let him think he’s lost and keep him in your home until further notice. Yes, that seems doable!

So… you left the house, nervous as shit, hoping that Leon could keep himself entertained.

And boy, did he.

When you got home, you found him chilling on the floor of your living quarters with a random book from your shelf. Eyes focused, hands clutching the title loosely.

You smiled slowly, “Hello?”

He finally looked up. “Oh, hey. Sorry, I just… got bored.”

“No, no worries. That’s a good one.”

He nodded, glancing at the pages. “Yeah, I think so too.” He looked at you again, eyes analytical. “You have a lot of depressing books, though.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I do.”

“How was work?” he asked instead.

“Good,” you replied. “The usual. Dealing with annoying people.”

He smiled faintly, and you smiled back.

“And now you’ve got me, huh?”

You coughed slightly. Have him. Yes, that’s true. You have him now. Laughing slowly, you nodded. “Yeah, suppose so.”

He smirked faintly, before standing up and keeping the book close to his chest.

“We can go in a bit,” you said. “Get you all the things you need for the meantime.”

“Right.”

And the question was at the tip of both your tongues. How long was that? How long would Leon be here, with you?

Neither of you knew.

-> chapter 3, (in progress)

a/n: thanks so much for all the love so far! i want to start some craziness soon. and the falling in love stuff. can’t wait to get to that!!!!

leon kennedy x gn!reader

Using your One Wish Willow was supposed to be a joke. What happens now that Leon Kennedy himself is in front of you, seemingly in love with everything you are?

word count: 1.6k, chapter one

content: reverse isekai and transmigration, inspired by Obsession (2025). fluff and angst and eventual smut. short chapters.

A single One Wish Willow.

You found it in a thrift store, tucked away behind novelty mugs and dusty china. If anything, it looked purposely hidden. Perhaps someone wanted it for themselves, but didn’t have the chance to take it yet.

At the resounding price of $3, you thought the box looked interesting enough. A wish that comes true? Surely, it was a bunch of hocus pocus. But something about the worn package and its promise of an incredible happening was too intriguing.

Taking it home meant you inspected the box curiously, fingers gliding over the words.

“Amaze your friends. You only get one wish,” you mumbled to yourself. The characters on the box were cute enough. Part of you didn’t want to open it. Maybe keep it as a decoration in your room, as the trinket it seemingly was.

But… a bigger part of you wanted to see what was inside. Shaking it, you could hear that it physically carried an object.

You figured, ‘fuck it,’ and opened it with careful fingers. Slowly, you extracted the wooden piece from the box. It looked… fine. Normal, even.

You thought to yourself for a moment. What wish would be most fulfilling at this moment? Money? Fame?

You looked around your room. It was quiet, only the hum of whatever sad song you were listening to in the background. Still, you wished for company. Companionship in the shape of a kind lover. Someone who’d love you unconditionally, despite all your flaws.

Your eyes stopped at a picture of him on your desk; a dumb printout meant to make you passingly happy while you lived life tirelessly.

You smiled, chuckling to yourself. Snapping the stick, you jokingly said: “I wish Leon Kennedy was real.”

It was silly, and you knew it. You wished for it anyways. Deep down, you wanted him to exist. To see if you’d get along, form a relationship of any kind. But that was all silly.

At least, until you heard a crackle in your room. Once, then twice. The sparks of life materializing in front of you. You gasped, falling backwards on your bed until your head hit the mattress.

Things kept spinning, yellow and orange pigments shimmering in the center of your room. The world itself seemed to shake, with the rattling of your furniture making your heart pound furiously. You could only stare in fear and awe as he appeared slowly. Blurred locks of blonde hair, a compression shirt, and tactical pants.

It couldn’t be him. No, no. Your eyes were playing a trick on you. Or maybe you were dreaming this all up. Maybe, just maybe, the stick was hallucinogenic? But that was crazy.

You stayed on your bed, practically trembling as you watched him become clearer. More detailed. For a fleeting moment, he looked as he did in-game. But then he became more. Flesh and skin, blood and bones.

He stretched a bit. Then came the familiar sound of his grunts. Quiet, barely there. You screamed. He stumbled back.

“Oh my god!” you squeaked, scrambling away in your bed.

He looked down at himself and at his hands. Leon felt… strange. Different. He couldn’t pinpoint how, though.

You threw a pillow at him, afraid of how this could be occurring. He let it hit him square in the face before catching it in his hands.

“Ouch,” he grumbled.

“Oh my god,” you repeated. “What the fuck.” Your eyes were wide as saucers, unable to look away from him.

“What?” he asked, your panic making him uneasy.

“You!” you exclaimed.

“What about me?”

“You’re real!”

He scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Well, of course I’m real.”

You squeaked again, before finally tumbling out of your bed to approach him. Your room wasn’t the biggest, so you were in front of each other now.

The details in his face were astounding. The tired blue eyes. The mole beneath his right nose. The cleft chin. It was all him. Not Eduardo, the face model. All Leon.

Your hand slowly reached out, fingers hovering besides his face. He looked unsure for a moment, which made you pause.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “You just look…”

“Familiar?” he guessed.

“Uh, yeah.”

The hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. God, those lips. You’ve probably imagined them a million times. And now they were here, in front of you. Your mouth went dry.

“I think I need to sit down…” and you slowly retracted yourself to the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, you’re not looking great.”

You would have made a snarky remark if you weren’t so incredibly baffled. He seemed calm, though. Too calm. Like he didn’t mind being here with you, in your room.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

The truth was… Leon couldn’t recall anything. He couldn’t remember anything about himself apart from the basic things. He’s a government agent. He likes Oreos. He’s an orphan, and he’s so, so lonely. Everything else is in bits and pieces; shallow memories that feel a million light years away.

So to suddenly show up in the comfort of your home… it didn’t seem so bad. And he thinks you’re cute, as startled as you are.

After your initial shock, you had to let him take refuge in your room. Where else was he supposed to go? He could tell he wasn’t home. Not near his sad apartment in D.C., and it wasn’t one of those nightmares where he was in Raccoon City again. This was different.

Your room was warm. Nice. You had little pictures on the walls, some personal and some not. Your bookshelf was littered with little toys and knickknacks. He could see himself being happy here. Much happier.

When it was nighttime, and you’d successfully kept Leon away from anyone who’d notice him, you finally got to thinking about your sleep dilemma.

“So…” you started, twisting your fingers together awkwardly.

He sat on the chair of your desk patiently, like a puppy awaiting instruction. It made your heart palpitate. He did that to you in general, you noticed.

“Bedtime,” you said. “Uh, you can take my bed. I’ll set something up on the floor.”

His eyes narrowed. “No,” he said without hesitation. “No way. I’ll take the floor.”

“But—”

“Trust me,” he said with a tiny smirk. “I’ve been in worse sleeping situations than this.”

You wanted to offer the two of you to share the bed, desperately, but you didn’t have a king. If the two of you slept together, there’d be unavoidable points of contact. And were you ready for that, now that Leon was actually here? You almost died when he patted your shoulder earlier. There was no way you’d survive sharing a bed.

“O-Okay,” you finally said. “But I’ll make sure to give you lots of pillows and blankets.”

“Deal,” he said with a nod.

“Right, okay.”

You hurriedly got to organizing him a spot on the floor, with him watching you curiously. You’d been so skittish that he felt a need to calm you down. He doesn’t know how, though. He’s never been too good at the comforting thing.

Pulling the various pieces from your bed and a closet in the hallway, you successfully set up a makeshift bed on the ground for him.

“Ta-da,” you said.

He smiled, just barely, and it felt like sunshine. You’d watched him smile at Ashley Graham in game, but when it was aimed at you? Geez.

“Thanks,” he said. “Looks comfy.”

You let out a small, awkward laugh. “Yeah. I tried.”

His smile grew a fraction and he shook his head, finally standing up from the chair. He didn’t seem to care that he wasn’t dressed for bed, even if you’d been in your pajamas for a while. He still settled into the floor, as calm as ever.

“You need anything before I, you know…”

He shook his head ‘no’ and slowly laid until he could pull a blanket over himself. “‘m fine,” he said.

You exhaled, nodding to yourself. “Okay, cool.” Reaching over him to turn the light off, you quieted your voice. “Well, goodnight.”

“Night.”

You went back to your bed, where you closed your eyes. And you were too aware of him and his breaths. In and out, as gentle as the spring breeze.

You closed your eyes, and sleep felt impossible. You wondered if you’d wake up, and he’d be gone. That seemed likely, ‘cause again, maybe you were just high as shit and imagining him.

But sleep eventually claimed you.

When you woke up, it was still dark. There was a small rasp against your desk. Quiet scratches. Your head lifted from your pillow, and you squinted as he stood at the edge of your bed.

“Leon?”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Right. Nightmares. Leon was a haunted man, with an awful backstory. Tragic. That was the reality.

“Um, well…”

“Can I sleep in your bed? With you?”

You froze. That was simultaneously the best and worst idea.

“Uh…”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he whispered. His eyes seemed to practically glow. “I’m just… not used to this.”

“Used to what?”

“Feeling… comfortable around someone.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “I feel pretty comfortable around you. Dunno why.”

“Oh.”

Was that really what this was about? He found comfort in you?

“Well, I guess it’s okay.”

“Really?” he asked, but he was already climbing in.

You scooted over to make space for him. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. No big deal.”

“Thanks.”

You took in a breath, trying not to tremble. Leon was right beside you now, looking at you with kind, appreciative eyes. And you didn’t know what to do.

What could you do?

you sense them around you immediately, because his arms are strong. leon’s. from all the training and missions. the muscles feel strong enough to bite into, but you haven’t done that. not yet, at least.

you glance down, seeing where they connect around your waist. the emotion bubbles up quickly, because he knows you’re not okay without you having to say it.

you bite down on your lip, but it’s not enough to stiffen the sniffle.

“you okay?”

“… yeah,” you say.

he holds you a little tighter then, his front pressing to your back.

“you sure?”

and you hesitate, because you want to be open. you want to expose every little piece of yourself to him, until there’s nothing left. until he knows everything about your mind, body, and soul. every detail.

“no,” you finally reply.

he exhales and carefully turns you around until he can look at you. with his hands cupping your teary face.

“you wanna talk about it?”

you shake your head, because honestly, you don’t want to. not now. you barely know what’s wrong yourself.

“okay,” he says quietly. a calloused finger brushes your cheek. and he brings you in closer. lets you melt into him as you let it all out. all the silent pain you’ve been building up.

here’s a little snippet from a fic i’ve been working on!!! it’ll be a postre9! leon with rookie! reader

i won’t have it out for a while, since i’ve just started my online summer classes, but i hope to get at least one chapter out this month. i’m still outlining eekkkk

Leon, for one, is terrified. He’d done so much to protect you, a civilian in the latest outbreak, only for you to get bitten. 

wc: 1k

content: zombie bites, angst, (implied) major character death

Finally escaping a hoard, you leaned against a wall and panted. “Oh god…” you mumbled, hand going to your bleeding arm. How it was still attached to you? No idea. “It got me.”

Leon’s panting too, looking around to make sure you’re both in the clear. His heart drops looking at your arm.

“No, no,” he says. “Let me see.” He comes closer, taking your arm and turning it over. The bite is there. Teeth marks sunken into your skin. Nasty, bleeding.

“Fuck,” he breathes out.

“God,” you repeated. You took a step away from him, more as a protective measure. Pacing, the anxiety grew in your chest. “Leon, this is really bad, isn’t it?”

He knew it was. Enough to nod, jaw clenching. “It’s…” awful, he thinks. Trying to come up with something better, “… not great.”

You knew that too, and you laughed. The sound was almost bitter, an unkind acceptance. Because it was clear to the both of you; you were going to turn into one of those things.

You were panicked, yes, but your thoughts zeroed on into one thing.

“You have to leave me,” you whispered.

Leon’s head jerked up at that. “What? No.” He took a step closer, hands finding your arms.

“Leon,” you started. Removing his hands from you like you were already diseased. Poisonous. He lets them fall, but his eyes flash with something akin to hurt.

You continue on. “We both know what this bite means for me, okay?”

He really does know, but he hates that he can’t stop this. Another failure on his track record. Another person lost.

“But, you can’t just—” he sighed. Shaking his head, he chewed on the inside of his cheek. “You can’t ask me to.”

You were terrified. Your arm throbbed with the pain of the bite, and you could only imagine the death you’d face. How the infection would feel.

“You have to go,” you said firmly. “When I turn into one of those things, I don’t want to hurt you.”

His eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I’m not leaving you here,” he argued. The emotion was growing in his voice, in the slight shakiness breaking through his usual composure.

“Please,” you begged. You swallowed, also trying to keep your voice even. “You have to leave right now. It’s the only way.”

Leon hated it. Watching you upset and trembling. The fear in your eyes, the acceptance of your fate.

“If I left you,” he started, “You’d die here. Alone.”

The idea of that was awful, yes. Loneliness clawed at you like a familiar ache. To die lonely was the last thing you wanted. It was something you’d almost succumbed to. Now, you didn’t have much of a choice.

“It’s okay,” you said. Your eyes misted over, but you still smiled. “I’d rather have that, than put you in more danger.”

“No,” he said again. Leon was growing frustrated. Maybe with you and your stubbornness, but moreso with himself and this shitty situation. “You’re not going to die here today, okay?”

You sighed softly, as if resigning. But you were thinking. How you’d have to get away from him to protect him.

And Leon catches the look in your eyes. The subtle planning. He scoffs, “Don’t. Don’t even think about it.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to school the pounding in your chest. “I’m a ticking timebomb,” you argued.

“You don’t know that,” he said. He wanted to reach out to you again, but he stopped himself. You’d moved back last time. “You can’t just quit.”

But really, he didn’t want you to. He wanted there to be some way to save you. Cure you of this mysterious infection.

You let silence linger in the air for a moment. You had a reason for wanting Leon to leave you. You understood his job, from the few details he’d provided. And you knew well, the last thing he needed was another body; tears shedding while your body decays in his arms, while it becomes something else entirely.

“I don’t want to die in front of you,” you admitted.

He shook his head, in denial. “You’re not going to die.” Whether he was trying to convince you or himself, he wasn’t sure.

“I’m bitten, Leon.” You spoke quietly. “I won’t have much time. I… I saw people turn in minutes. Seconds.”

He wanted to hold his ground, but he couldn’t. The seriousness of this situation weighed heavily on the both of you. Leon didn’t want to lose you, not when he’d just found you. It felt unfair.

You blinked back a few tears. Stubborn, no matter how afraid. “So you get out of here, and you live. Leave and don’t look back.”

Living left a bitter taste in his mouth. He’d live, yes. But he wouldn’t forget you. You’d be in his nightmares, trapped in the crevices of his brain for the rest of time like everyone else.

“I’m not leaving,” he says harshly. “I’m staying with you.”

You were trembling now. Angry and fearful. “And then what? I turn and you have to defend yourself from me?” You shook your head. “Don’t be an idiot, Leon. Go before it’s too late.”

He wanted to yell at you. For there to be a way. But there wasn’t, was there? Because if you did end up aggressive, he’d have to put a bullet through your head. Would he be able to, after everything?

“Go,” you pleaded quietly. “Please.”

His eyes burned into you. He didn’t want to. His chest hurt, and he felt like a failure for not getting to you before the undead did.

“Okay.”

You blinked back your tears. With his acceptance, you nodded and finally let yourself walk further away.

Leon watched you take a step back. Then another, and another. His mind yelled at him to follow, but he stayed stuck in place. He could hardly think. Face blank, as his eyes shone with something weighty. It was a long time before he finally took a step away from you. He could hear your footsteps fading, and the realization that you weren’t with him anymore was like a slap in the face.

let’s say you and leon are in the car. he’s driving and you’re passenger, of course. you’re eating something quietly, spoon digging into a small plastic bowl of the treat you’ve just purchased.

you look over at him and without words, you hold the bowl up to him in an offering.

he glances as you inquisitively, but his eyes are on the road. without hesitating, he leans over enough for you to scoop some into his mouth.

he smiles, lips curling up, as he drives.

you do it again and again, feeding him after you feed yourself.

“want more?”

he hums.

Hi Anon, sorry it took me a second to get to you. I was so touched when I read this, thank you so much. I get how things are, I have diagnosed MDD GAD and PTSD! I only started sharing my work recently, because I feel I owe it to myself to do so. Depression is something a lot of people joke about, and I’m afraid it’s not as understood as some media makes it out to be. If you feel comforted by my works and what they speak of, I know I’ve finally succeeded with my writing. I make fun of myself a lot, but I know it’s a difficult thing to find yourself relating to.

I hope to continue to write about mental health, especially in regards to Leon. Thanks again, and I hope you’re well. If you ever need anything, feel free to reach out. Much love. <3

Leon Kennedy x Reader

Leon’s a good friend; he always has been. He picks you up in his car, he buys your lunch, and he listens to you ramble about whatever’s on your mind. It’s a relationship that time has only made stronger.

Which is why you started casually dropping the L bomb.

Little “love you’s” after he does something nice. Like when he gets you a gift because it ‘reminded him of you,’ or when you hang up the phone as a parting.

He’s never said it back. Not until now, when you’re crying in front of him about feeling alone.

word count: 1.4k

content: close friendship, references to loneliness, some yearning

song: Angel - Alice Phoebe Lou

Leon’s car was warmed up, resting in the parking lot of his apartment complex as you two sat there after dinner.

On this day, you were feeling particularly emotional. Perhaps it was because Leon had been away on a mission and only returned in recent days.

To put it simply, you were lonely.

When you turned your body to face his, you pouted a little. “Leon… I really missed you.”

His eyes raked over your face. Without a word, he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over the center console to pull you in for a hug. With his hand around your shoulder, he leaned his cheek into your hair.

You wrapped your own arms against him, hand moving soothingly up and down his back.

He didn’t say anything else as you two embraced. It was firm, able to be categorized as one between two trusting individuals.

You closed your eyes as he ran his fingers through the strands of your hair. Breathing him in, you could smell the cedar of his cologne and the leather of his jacket.

“I’m just glad you’re home safe,” you whispered.

He never spoke of the weight of missions—of the near-death experiences he constantly faced. Not unless it was in a debrief.

With you, though, he could exhale as if he was finally home after a long day.

The two of you finally parted after a few long moments, opting to enter his living space. It wasn’t the largest, but it was his. Worn books on the coffee table, a collectible from his favorite film, and a framed photo of you two at whichever work Christmas party he dragged you to.

He kicked his boots off by the door, and you followed, leaving your shoes behind as he began towards the closet.

Not needing to ask, he tossed you a hoodie. Your top was thin, and you smiled. You began peeling it off, aching to replace it with the clothes permeated with his scent.

He didn’t stare, no, but he gave you a soft look. A flicker of the eyes, because it was so natural for you to be so comfortable around him. He was appreciative of it. Your love ran deep.

He gave you space, turning into the kitchen to get the kettle going. It might have been late for coffee, but Leon was a drinker nonetheless. He prepared you a tea, though. The kind he kept in his cabinet because he knew it was your favorite.

You sat on the couch, listening to the hum of his fridge and the late D.C. traffic outside.

He returned within minutes, carrying the two steaming mugs. You took yours with an appreciative smile and leaned back against the cushions.

He sank down beside you, not close enough to invade your personal space. He’d always been thoughtful like that.

He took a slow sip of his black coffee, eyes slightly drooping as exhaustion began to make way over his body. This mission wasn’t as bad as other ones, but he’d still lost sleep. Still lost another tiny piece of himself.

You never asked, because you knew it wasn’t your place to.

Instead, you distracted yourself by blowing on the steam atop your mug. Your face scrunched when it hit you back, and Leon smiled. Just barely.

You snuck a glance at him, fingers still cradling your mug. “What?” you asked, your own smile forming.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. Yet, the adoration lingered in his eyes.

“Yeah, okay,” you said, unconvinced. And then, you teased him, just because you could. “You weirdo.”

He huffed under his breath, head tilting forward as he shook it. He faced you a bit more. With his free hand, he poked your cheek using his index finger.

You smiled, enough to make your eyes crinkle at the corners. “Stop,” you giggled, swatting him away uselessly.

He did, but didn’t retreat. He shifted a little closer on the couch, and rested his shoulder against yours.

You didn’t need to talk as you sipped on your drinks. Speaking wasn’t necessary anymore, not when the air could fill itself with your shared history. With all the late night hang-outs, uncontrollable laughs after dumb jokes, and every small touch given.

Leon finished his beverage first. He leaned forward to set it down on the coffee table and when he leaned back again, his arm draped itself behind your shoulder. Not yet pulling you in, but it was an invitation for you to come closer.

And you absolutely did. Gladly, your side pressed against his. The side of your head, where your hair brushed his cheek, was his favorite spot. He did the same thing then, face smushed against you.

He exhaled slowly, his thumb rubbing circles into the hoodie.

Eventually, you finished your tea. When you set it down, you finally broke the silence.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” you said quietly. Unsure.

He pulled back enough to look at you, to show you had all his attention.

You sighed, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Sometimes… I feel like, I don’t know… I need— I need more. Not from you, but in general.”

Leon never interrupted. He couldn’t, given what you were implying. His hand remained on you, grounding you into continuing.

“Sometimes I feel so alone,” you admitted. Your eyes glassed over, and you avoided his gaze. Crying was something you rarely allowed in front of others, even Leon.

“Like no one— no one understands the emptiness that I always carry with me.” You finally looked at him, sniffling with a tiny smile. “Except you, maybe.”

He softened, and he pulled you into a hug. A quiet understanding passed between you, and the proximity lended itself as a balm to you both.

You cried as you held onto him, fingers gripping his jacket. “I missed you so much,” you confessed. It was much more raw than when you had said it earlier. Realer, more pained. It came from the soul, where you’d been crumbling. Where you’d been scared for him and his life.

He cracked, feeling his heart getting torn apart for worrying you. He pressed a kiss onto your head, and again, and again, until he felt that it was enough. But really, nothing would make up for the time he was away.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’m here.”

Your breaths were uneven, catching like that of a frail child.

But to Leon, you were so strong. Brilliant where it mattered, and so understanding of all his secrecy. You smiled through your hurt and loved him so deeply, even though he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

He held you tighter, rocking you back and forth until you soothed.

You pulled back after a while, wiping at your eyes clumsily. “Sorry,” you said, smiling at yourself for crying. “I’ve just been extra sad lately.”

He helped you wipe your tears, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Don’t be sorry,” he returned.

“You don’t think I’m being dramatic?”

He frowned at the mere idea. “No, not at all.” He paused before adding, “I think you’ve been carrying too much for too long.”

You frowned, face morphing like a little baby’s. “But you do too,” you argued.

He felt like smiling, thinking your expression was the cutest he’d ever seen. He didn’t. Instead, his eyes narrowed lightheartedly. “This isn’t about me.”

“I still feel selfish,” you said quietly.

He sighed, more in understanding. He kissed your forehead and took your hands in his. “Wanting comfort, or wanting me here isn’t selfish.” His eyes looked into yours, firm and genuine. “I want to be the person you lean on.”

You cried a little more then, still frowning. You leaned into him, pressing your face into his shirt. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Tears came out faster, because he’d never said those words back to you. Not until now. You realized that, but you didn’t point it out. The moment felt too frail.

‘I love you,’ is sacred to Leon. They’re words he’s rarely uttered to another person. To you, though, how you say them so freely to him… it feels right to return them.

Looking at you sleep in his grasp, he wasn’t sure why it took him so long. Maybe because it made it too real.

The feeling you brought him ran much deeper than a casual friendship; it was a soul-tie. That was enough to terrify him.

Seeing you feel like you have no one—like you’re missing a piece of yourself—hurts him. It hurts him so much, because he wants to be that last piece for you.

i think thats why i write so much about it. theres a sad connection we have with one another, and i think it’s very beautiful that we share such a thing.