#i've been waiting so long to see this bastard again. fucker disappears without a word for TWO YEARS
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HE'S
M I N E
V O L O 💞
#i have him rank 5 already with the screenshots to prove it yes i am crying no i'm not okay yes i'm being so normal about this#i've been waiting so long to see this bastard again. fucker disappears without a word for TWO YEARS#at least now we know what happens to him after coronet. he gets yeeted to pasio 😭😭😭#pyro speaks
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Requested by: @80s4life
I hope you like this!😊💛
What I Did To You.
Snake Plissken (Escape From New York/LA) x reader
Warnings: violence, injury, swearing, gun use
Masterlist
I have my gun levelled at his head before I've even closed the door properly, my face drawn into a fierce scowl, eyes blazing with anger. Every muscle in my body goes tense, my hand unwavering as I hold the weapon up, my leg throbbing in memory pain. Across from me, the intruder remains stood silently, his eye fixed on mine, his own hand still resting at his hip, ready to draw his pistol at any point.
"Hello to you, too." He greets me in the quiet way he always used to, his lips barely moving.
Frown deepening, I push the door behind me closed without looking at it, keeping my gun aimed at his head as I look him over. Not for the first time, he's covered in a light layer of grime, his brown leather jacket darkened in places by the dirt and lightened in others by the fraying, his boots caked in dust from the wasteland outside. His golden mane of hair is slightly dulled from exposure to the unforgiving sun outside and falls into his eyepatch, flicked out of the way every so often by a jerk of the head. A shadow of a stubble covers his chin, as it always has, disguising a few new scars I've not seen before...as well as one I know very well. Other than that, Snake Plissken has not changed at all.
My eyes narrow, grip on the gun tightening.
"Leave." Is all I say, shifting my weight onto my other foot.
"You used to have such nice manners." Snake's lip curls, the soldier taking a step towards me.
Instantly, I flick my thumb over the flintlock.
"Leave." I repeat, pulling the hammer down as the gun makes a dull clicking sound.
"No." He moves closer, standing so the gun is inches from his chest.
"You've got a lot of nerve coming here." I growl, oh so tempted to pull the trigger, "I don't know why you don't keep your distance."
A cruel smirk creeps onto his lips, eye narrowing as his head tilts to the side.
"Trust me, I didn't want to come here, either." He reassures me, "But I have no choice."
"I'm giving you a choice. Leave, or I'll introduce some lead into your diet." I retort, ignoring the burn in my arm from holding it outstretched. At this point, it's the only thing keeping us separated.
"I'll pass on both." Snake snorts, shooting a dismissive glance at the handgun pointed at his throat - now that he's standing closer, my aim only really comes up to his chest and neck, "Put the gun away."
I nearly laugh at him then, another surge of anger going through me.
"You're in no position to order me around. Not anymore." I practically snarl at him, keeping the gun where it is.
"Suit yourself. I came to ask for your help, the least you could do is be civil." He replies coldly, glaring at me now.
Again, the urge to laugh in his face goes through me.
"You came here to ask for my help?" I repeat, cocking my head in disbelief at the sheer balls of the man, "You really need to leave before I pull this trigger."
"(Y/n), we both know if you wanted me dead, I'd be bleeding out on the floor already." He points out, unimpressed.
"Maybe I'm waiting for an apology first."
This seems to catch him off guard.
"An apology?" He repeats, frowning in confusion, "For what?"
It takes all I have not to lunge at him and throttle the handsome bastard's neck in my hands, my leg flaring up in pain at the reminder.
"You know damn well what for." I growl at him, shifting off of my leg again, rubbing at it unconsciously.
Snake's eyes follow my movement, realisation dawning on him.
"I already apologised for that." He says quietly, clearly remembering back to the time I'm referring to.
It still plagues me, that one last operation we'd had to do together. Three years ago, back when we were still working together on jobs, good at what we did, the perfect partnership...except for Snake's tendency to protect his ego. It had been horrible that night, rain pelting the ground as we moved on the abandoned construction site, mud slicking our boots and trousers, foggy air making it impossible to see anywhere. I had told Snake we shouldn't go that day, that it would be better to wait until another, clearer night, but he insisted on the raid. He'd told me that he'd "been in worse" and that this was nothing, so we took our guns, knives and other equipment, and headed out into the wastelands to deal with the threat.
At first, everything had been fine: we'd managed to get in with no problem, creeping around the perimeter, taking out guards as we went, bodies sodden and filthy now, freezing under our light jackets. It was only as we moved to go further into the site that disaster had struck. Suddenly, gunfire was tearing into the ground inches away from us, driving us back behind an old container box, flashes of light appearing in the milky fog around us, our vision obscured by the sheeting rain, the mud making it hard to retreat. We later found out we'd been ratted out to the terrorists occupying the site, and they'd set up a trap for us, hounding us from the place with rifles spewing bullets at us the entire way. We had been close to escaping.
Then I slipped on a landmine.
All of a sudden, I was flying forwards through the air, agony erupting in my left leg as the flash of light and flames exploded behind me, my body crashing to the floor seconds later. Winded and incapable of moving thanks to the pain lancing through me from my leg, I had screamed out to Snake, hoping for him to return to me, the smell of burning flesh soon flooding my nostrils as my foot caught in the blaze. Howling in agony, I had tried to pull myself out, my fingers scrabbling at the slick mud in desperation, only for the pain to become too overbearing. I had looked for Snake, only to see the back of his head disappearing towards our getaway vehicle, paying no mind to me. It was then that I blacked out, my heart drowning in betrayal and hurt.
For a week or so, I'd been held captive by the terrorists, tortured sometimes, my wounds left to fester, bones shattered and out of place, burns turning ugly over the time. Eventually, another team had been sent in to rescue me, the group getting me out before it got too far. Taken to a hospital, it took me weeks to recover, every muscle and bone in my left leg needing to be reformed almost completely, surgeries being done near-daily to realign them all, the skin basically unsalvageable. I'd had four different skin grafts from various parts of my body, only to leave the limb looking twisted and mangled, basically useless to me until I was encouraged to learn how to use it again. That entailed another half a year of time spent working on getting it to full use again, and even now I can't go nearly as far as I used to. Every so often, the leg throbs, memory pain still hounding me since the day I got the wounds themselves, but I suppose I got off lucky: the surgeons hadn't expected me to make it through.
All of that because of Snake's ego.
His apology? A note sent to me whilst I was unconscious in the hospital.
"You and I have a very idea of what an apology is. Especially for something that kept me bedridden for months." I bite out, heart aching now at the memory, "Especially for someone who left me to die."
Snake purses his lips, swallowing tightly.
"I thought you did die." He says, much quieter now, eye roaming my body guiltily.
"You heard my screams. There's no way you didn't." I reply harshly, reminded again of the raw-throated shrieks for help.
He winces, looking down at his feet now, his fists clenched at his sides.
"I didn't think you'd make it. If I went back, I wouldn't have gotten out." He murmurs, sounding somewhat saddened by what he's saying.
"You wanna know how long it took those fuckers to get to me? Fifteen minutes. Fifteen! There was more than enough time!" I spit at him, face twisted in anger.
Once again, he winces at my words, only now realising the extent of what he did.
"And even when you knew I was alive, when I was in hospital, you couldn't even be asked to come and apologise in person. You sent a damn note." I shake my head, looking at him in disgust, "You're a coward. A spineless coward. Why didn't you at least show your face? Why? Why did you leave me to face the pain on my own?"
"Because I couldn't face it! I couldn't face seeing you there, lying in a hospital bed, all doped up, cut-up and bruised because of me! I couldn't face seeing you nearly crippled because of my stupid fucking pride!" Snake finally snaps, voice strained as his eye returns to my face, pain clouding the blue depth, "I thought I got you killed, (Y/n)! I could barely live with myself because of it!"
"Then why wait until now to find me? Why not come sooner?" I question, voice tense.
"I didn't think I'd be able to face you so angry and upset. I cared - care - so much about you, (Y/n), you have no idea how hard this is for me. I've lived with this guilt for so long." He fumbles for words, unable to voice his feelings as he always has been.
"How hard this is for you? Do you have any- argh!" I cut off in pain. As I was speaking, I'd stepped forwards, my leg sending a shock of agony through me as I'd done so, making me stumble forwards.
Snake moves closer, catching me before I can connect with the floor, his arms secure around me as my hands come to rest on his muscular chest. Blushing at the proximity, I try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, pushing off of him to sit on a nearby chair, dropping the gun to the floor. Stretching out the affected leg, I sigh in frustration, the anger residing into the same loneliness I've always felt since I got the wounds that have left me like this.
Snake watches me silently, expression pained as he finally speaks.
"Can I...can I see? Please, I want to know what I did to you."
Surprised, I give him a sceptical look, before I hesitantly start to pull my trousers down over my legs. His eye widens at the sight of the limb, lips parting slightly.
Gnarled scar tissue crawls up my leg, discoloured and tight, appearing somewhat ghostly in the light of the room. Snake stares at it in horror, grief swiftly clouding his eye now as he falls to his knees in front of me, hands lifting to hover over it. He flicks his eye up to me, asking for permission, to which I nod, gasping as he removes his gloves and gently places his hands on the sensitive skin, a shiver going up my spine. Ever so carefully, Snake runs his palms over the scars, feeling them over with hesitant fingers, his expression becoming more and more open.
After a while, he looks up, pained eye meeting mine.
"God, (Y/n), I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry..." He grasps my hips, pushing his head into my abdomen as he wraps me into an awkward embrace, murmuring apologies over and over. Shocked, I hesitantly place my hands on his head, threading my fingers through his soft hair. An old tenderness springs into life within me, reminding me of why I used to stay with him, and what his riendship used to mean to me. Over the years, I had tried to forget it, but it's impossible - as he holds me close now, I realise I've missed him more than I'd ever let myself admit.
Snake pulls away after a few more minutes, caressing my hip as he looks up at me, thoughtful now.
"What job was it you needed help with?" I ask him quietly, twisting a strand of his hair between my fingers, "I'll work with you, if you drop the ego act."
He looks surprised and glad, a smallsile pulling at his lips.
"Of course." He promises, looking away again bashfully, "I only kept it up to impress you."
I blink in surprise.
"To impress me?" I repeat dumbly.
"Yeah, I, err, I've always felt the need to. Wanted to impress you so you'd consider going out with me." He admits, blushing furiously.
I blink again, head tilting in curiosity.
"Wait, what?"
"I always wanted to go out with you. Always." He chuckles, swallowing, "I've always loved you."
"You...you love me?!"
"Yeah, I do." Snake nods, biting his lip.
"Wow..." My voice trails off in surprise, unable to compute what he's saying, "I wish you'd told me sooner."
He frowns.
"What do you mean?"
I smile sheepishly at him.
"I've always had a thing for you, too. I just never thought you even liked me full stop."
"Really?!" He looks astonished.
"Yeah, really."
He's quiet for a moment, until a cunning smirk crosses his lips.
"In that case..." Snake leans up and connects our lips, kissing me softly but passionately.
A quiet moan escapes me, my lips moving instinctively against his, kissing him back in relief. His lips are chapped, but I can't find it in me to care as I pull his head closer to me, smiling as he pulls my body into him, his chest pressed firmly against my abdomen. In his arms, I can feel the pain of the last few years starting to slip away, still hooked deeply into me but starting to lessen, my eyes falling closed with the movement of his lips.
He finally pulls away, a content smile on his face, eye taking my expression in.
"So what's this job?" I breathe out, stroking his hair.
He grins lazily.
"Ever thought about going to LA?"
#escape from la#escape from new york#snake plissken#snake plissken x reader#snake plissken imagine#kurt russell#break writes
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