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motzgurke · 1 year

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the ghost on the shore 3.

Nixie! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: After the sudden death of your nephew, a sudden detail about that strange lake within the woods piques your curiosity. Unable to withstand the temptation, you decide to see if the legends of the lake were true. Do you wish to reap what you sow?

A/n: here is part three! I hope you guys enjoyed this ride! I might make another part to continue the story, but it's all up to you guys! Thank you so much for reading and supporting the story!

Genre: Folklore, Horror, Angst Rated: Mature Warning: Death, Drowning, Child Death, Cursing, Nudity, Graphic Depictions of Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Slight Gore, idk what else

Author: ScariusAquarius

The thunder was loud outside, shaking the whole house as the rain pounded upon the roof. Lightning flashed across the sky, causing the lights to flicker as John lied you down on the couch. You were still completely asleep, skin looking pale and lips looking a bit discolored as well. You were soaking wet because of the rain, and John knew he had to dry you off.

Grabbing towels from the bathroom, John glanced up at the ceiling as thunder cracked incredibly loud, the wind howling outside the window, and he became nervous. The storm was so strong, the rain thundering down outside that he wondered if it would even be safe to drive in such conditions.

Even so, John knew he needed to get you away from this town. He needed to get you far away from that godforsaken lake; from that entity, and he needed to do it fast.

Taking your jacket off and wrapping a towel around you, John wrapped you up in blankets and began to spark up a fire in the fireplace to get you warm. Every so often, John would glance over his shoulder at you, almost as if you would disappear if he didn’t check to make sure, and his nervous heart skipped a beat each time.

Why did the Man in the Lake want you? What was it about you and Jack that had the spirit eager to consume your souls? Was it something that John did in his past that he hasn’t answered for yet?

Yes, he treated his ex-wife terribly, had accidentally gotten his brother killed, and had done many other things that he wasn’t proud of…but by god, if John made sure to take accountability for it all. He answered for his terrible deeds…so why was the universe trying to punish him now?

When the fire was burning hot and bright, John turned to you and took a firm seat next to the couch, sweeping back his wet and curling hair as he watched you sleep. You were sleeping so deeply that your breaths were extremely deep and paced, almost as if you were still in a trance. John shook your shoulder gently, calling your name firmly.

“(Y/n)?”

You were still, not responding to his voice nor touch, and John shook you vigorously, calling your name louder this time.

“(Y/n)? Dammit, wake up!”

John was starting to panic; grey eyes wild like an untamed mustang as John stared down at you. He was heaving in breaths, his heart racing like a drum as the panic settled in, and the man couldn’t help the tears that filled his eyes.

“Please wake up.”

He pleaded softly, head hanging as he began to cry. Why him? Why, why, why?

“…John?”

John’s head snapped up, and he felt a huge wave of relief come over him as your eyes fluttered open.

“Oh, thank fuck.”

You didn’t look well, your skin looking clammy, and your face twisted uncomfortably when you realized you were still in your wet clothes.

“What happened?”

John took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves before he explained.

“I…I don’t know. You were out at the fucking lake just passed out by the shore. I’m sure the Man in the Lake had something to do with it. Fuck, (Y/n), what the fuck were you thinking?! Why would you go out there?!”

John looked angry, but the wild look in his eyes gave away his anxiety and fear, and you grunted as your head began to pound again as it all slowly came back; the beautiful melody of the violin, his cold yet soft touch, and his alluring voice.

"Come closer. Pledge yourself to me."

What had the man meant?

You swallowed thickly before you blurted out in a whisper.

“I believe you now, John.”

John looked startled, shaking his head slightly as the words rang in his head.

“What?”

You glanced at John, your eyes looking haunted as you stared deep within John’s eyes; thunder rolling angrily as you spoke.

“The Man in the Lake is real. He’s been haunting my dreams…I feel him everywhere I go…even now, I know he’s watching…he wants me, John, and I…I don’t know what to do.”

Your younger brother looked terrified as the words left your lips before it began to swirl into something feral; something enraged and bitter as John growled out.

“That’s not going to happen. I’ll kill him…or it, whatever the fuck it is. Once the storm calms down, we’re going to pack our bags, and we’re leaving this fucking shithole.”

There was a part of you that looked forward to that thought; that looked forward to escaping the town and never looking back…but there was another part that knew that it wasn’t going to happen.

You knew the man wouldn’t let you go so easily.

You whispered softly, making John glance at you as you lied your head down against one of the pillows on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with tears in your eyes.

“I know its name.”

John froze as the words were slow to register in his head, and he asked you.

“What?”

“I know its name, John…and I’m pretty sure it was Jack who told me.”

John was floored as the words left your chapped lips, and you bit your lip as you sniffled.

“I think Jack’s the reason why the Man didn’t take me at first. I saw him at the lake a while ago…playing his song, and there was a part of me that was under his spell but something….something was holding me back. Then…earlier…I suddenly heard his name in my head. I know it was Jack’s voice.”

Before John could say anything, a sudden crack of thunder sounded, and the power was shut off, making the two of you freeze from fright. You sat up, your head pounding, and you grimaced as you shifted within your heavy wet clothing.

“Do you have any lanterns around?”

John nodded, standing up and using the flashlight on his phone to guide him around as he walked to the storage closet. Grabbing a couple lanterns, he turned the devices on and set them around the house.

When he returned, you were standing up, setting the wet towels down onto the coffee table, and John handed you one of the electric lanterns.

You both were quiet for a moment before you whispered softly.

"I think I'm going to take a hot bath."

John simply nodded before he stated, watching the way your eyes seemed to glaze over and the anxious way that you were biting your lip as the fire reflected such haunting shadows upon your pale face.

"Okay. I'm gonna start packing."

You nodded numbly and wordlessly left the room, and John became unnerved. When you exited the living room to your room to grab a change of clothes, John made sure to lock all of the windows and doors.

Better safe than sorry, right?

Could the Man in the Lake even leave his watery abode? While John knew the spirit could turn into a stallion that roamed the edges of the lake...how far could the man go? How far would he go?

John was becoming paranoid, and he knew he needed to take a breather and try to think things through. So, the man lit a cigarette, grabbed some duffel bags, and began to pack.

-READER-

The water was steaming as it poured into the tub. You were sitting on the edge of the basin, naked and slightly shivering. The two lanterns that you had sitting on the counter lit the room just enough that you weren't too uncomfortable.

You could hear his voice echoing within the darker parts of the room, could feel his eyes glaring at you from behind you, could feel the ghost of his fingertips against your spine as he waited.

When the water was high enough, you shut it off and slowly climbed inside. Your muscles and bones immediately relaxed, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you settled into the hot water. For a moment, you forgot. You forgot about the loss of your nephew, you forgot about the storm, you forgot about your brother, and you forgot about the man in the lake.

It was just you in your hot little bath in the middle of a trepidatious night.

Letting your body sink lower until your nose and up were above the water, you heaved out a breath as you floated freely in the water before hands wrapping around your neck made your eyes fly open.

Your head was yanked down below the water, and you screamed into the water, flailing and splashing water around. His hands were tight and unforgiving on your neck, and you could hear his voice loud and clear as if the man in the lake wasn't under the water with you.

"He can't have you. You're mine."

You were trying hard to say his name, to grip onto the hope that his name truly did hold power over him, but the angry spirit had a firm grip on your neck.

He was going to kill you.

Distantly, you could hear banging on the bathroom door, your little brother desperately trying to come in and rescue you, but the man was winning quickly. Your chest was constricting, heart pounding while slowing gradually, and you were becoming weak.

Your fingers were grabbing at the spirits fingers in a last but feeble attempt to get free, and when the door finally busted down, the man's fingers dug painfully into your skin in anger before disappearing into the shadows beneath you.

You immediately sat up, choking, and John's hands were firm on your shoulders as he pulled you upright. He smacked your back harshly as you coughed up water, and when you were finally able to breathe, you began to cry.

John immediately pulled you close, dragging you out of the bathtub. He was panting, from the fear or work of busting the door down, you weren't sure, and he grabbed a towel off of the rack and wrapped it around you.

"Come on. We're getting the hell out of here."

The water in the tub bubbled angrily, and you both watched in terror as the man in the lake brought his head up out of the tub. His eyes were pitch black, angry and menacing as he hissed out, his hand shooting out and gripping your ankle painfully.

"Mine!"

He hissed out from between razor-sharp teeth, and the second his skin touched yours, white hot pain shot up your leg. John was spooked, his grey eyes wide and fearful, but his grip on you was strong as he held onto you tightly, trying to pull you away.

"You can't have her!"

You screamed out as the pain worsened, the man's grip on you strong, and from under his palm where he was gripping you, black veins began to form beneath your skin.

You were holding onto John as tightly as you could, knowing full and well that if you let go, you would never be able to escape. The man in the lake would drown you as he did the others, as he did to your nephews, and there would be no going back.

The man reached out his other arm, grabbing another firm hold of you leg and yanking, and it began to feel as though he was going to pop your leg right out of socket. You screamed loudly, and John cursed, tears in his adrenline-filled eyes.

"What do you want from me?!"

He screamed out, and the man growled out.

"I have no business with you. LEAVE!"

The water from in the tub suddenly exploded, showering you and John with suds and fluid alike, and John's eyes widened when he began to lose his grip.

"John!"

You screamed out, clutching onto his shirt, and John shouted as his shirt ripped, your body quickly being dragged into the tub as the lanterns in the room exploded.

"(Y/N)!!"

Thunder cracked in the sky, and suddenly, the lights flicked on. John was left sitting in the doorway of the bathtub, shirt ripped open and soaking wet as the water in the tub undulated and rippled. Drops of water streaked down the side of the tub, and the walls, and John yelled out, punching the ground.

-READER-

The transition from hot water to freezing cold was blinding and shocking, and you almost gasped had you not been aware that you were underwater. It was strange to feel the environment change; to travel as the man in the lake did. It was like you had been getting dragged at break-neck speeds between the fabrics of time and space until you were floating aimlessly in the lake.

You were on your back beneath the water, watching the rain hit the surface of the lake, and for a moment, you felt peaceful. You felt a strange sense of relief and comfort come over you, and you could hear his violin softly playing; rippling through the disturbed waters of the lake.

The man’s hands were soft against your naked skin, gliding along your ribs and stomach before his hands climbed up to your shoulders, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered.

“All mine.”

Even though his voice was soft, you could still hear that confused little implication hidden between the letters and syllables of his works.

Why are you different?

It was getting hard to hold your breath the longer he kept you beneath the surface, and your eyes closed slightly as his violin became louder. His touch was so gentle and soothing, you almost wanted to sleep.

Listen to my song.

His voice was hypnotizing, his kisses against your temple and shoulder so tempting; almost as if he promised an eternity of love and luxury beneath his pale slender fingers.

Pledge yourself to me.

The man in the lake was pressed against you, intertwining your legs together and his hands holding you and sliding down your body slowly, shivers running up your spine as your lungs began to burn.

You’re all mine.

He was dragging you lower and lower; farther away from the surface, and the deeper he dragged you, the colder the water became. The coldness of the temperature began to get to you, making your face twitch uncomfortably before you began to slowly wake up from your trance.

Spinning slowly, you gazed into those glowing blue eyes of the spirit; his face no longer terrifying as it had been in the bathroom, and his cupid lips were parted softly as he looked at you so lovingly.

He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours, and you knew that if you let him kiss you, he would forever have you. You would never be able to get out from this hellish lake. His hands were gliding lower, cupping you beneath your butt and pulling you closer to him, and your hands came up to his ribs.

His eyes were lit with mischievous delight; believing that he had you completely under his spell, and he whispered to you softly.

“Forever.”

Your eyes slowly met his, and the man was slowly smiling at you as he cupped your cheek, leaning closer as he gazed at your lips with yearning before your voice within the water stopped him.

“Leon.”

The man froze, eyes wide in shock, and he could feel a sudden weight fall upon his shoulders. He was completely stiff, the two of you now just free-floating between the surface of freedom and the depths of hell itself. Leon twitched so fast that it looked as though he was glitching, his face morphing from his handsome features to his black eyes and razor sharp teeth form and back again. His grip was painful before he forced out, hissing as if he was in pain.

“How? How did you know?”

You didn’t answer, trying to keep as much oxygen as possible despite the painful need to breathe. You glanced at him and whispered through the water, your voice distorted and muffled as you spoke.

“Leon, take me to the surface.”

He glared at you, teeth clenched as he tried so hard to resist your request, but Leon knew it was futile. Names held such power over things…over anything that was sentient to understand how important a name was…how you always knew it, Leon would never understand.

Slowly, the two of you drifted up towards the surface, and when you both broke, you took in as much oxygen as you could, panting as letting yourself just breathe. The man in the lake looked….sad…as he watched you breathe, and he hissed out.

“Why are you different?”

You glanced at him, so close to him and almost forgetting that this was the same spirit that killed your nephew and just tried to kill you. The rain was still pounding, splashing water all over your faces, and you swallowed thickly as you felt his hands twitch as if he wanted to pull you closer and never let go.

You didn’t know how to answer his question, and instead, you gave the man in the lake a firm look despite how fast your heart was racing within your chest.

“Give me my nephew, Leon.”

His face twisted into one of pain, and he growled out.

“He is not the same as he was.”

You growled back in response.

“Give him back!”

Leon glared at you before disappearing beneath the water, and as he did so, you could hear John’s distant yells again, causing a sense of déjà-vu to go through you.

“(Y/n)!”

“I’m here!”

You yelled out, and you froze at the feeling of being watched. Turning, there was the man in the lake, and beside him floating on the surface was your dead nephew. Your eyes widened, and you grabbed your nephew, feeling tears fill your eyes as you held his drowned and pale body. Jack’s eyes were closed, thankfully, but all along his naked body were bruises.

Holding him close, you cried softly, brushing your fingers through his wet hair, and the man in the lake actually looked sorry. He wished to speak, to reach out to you, to do anything to make you stay, but Leon could not do anything. Leon was completely under your spell; under the command of his name, and he would not move if you did not tell him to.

He watched you as you swam away, as John came rushing to the shore and froze as he watched you swim to him with Jack’s body tightly with your arms. Leon watched as John pulled you and Jack out of the water, keeping you two held close as he wrapped you in a towel to cover your body from his eyes. Leon watched as John held his son within his arms, sobbing and screaming out into the thunderous environment, the rain pounding heavily.

Leon watched as you gazed at him, his brows furrowed into a glare as you both watched each other, and he could feel his body twist painfully as you whispered to him; your voice seeming to be heard only by him and as if you were right there in front of him.

“Leave.”

Leon’s eyes widened and he screamed out, John’s head snapping up and watching as the water began to bubble and explode angrily. Leon was twisting and glitching; bones and limbs snapping and moving painfully as the water slowly began to funnel. It was as if a hole had opened up within the ground; draining the lake of it’s enchanted water and taking Leon with it as he slowly sunk beneath the surface.

Slowly, the water receded from the shore, Leon’s distorted screams sounding out into the rain as he was sucked beneath the surface, and slowly, the water disappeared until there was nothing left but mud.

Slowly, the rain began to dissipate, and you swallowed thickly before glancing down at John. John was staring down at Jack’s pale and peaceful face, cupping his son’s cheek and whispering softly.

“I’m so sorry, son. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

You bit your lip before shivering, sniffling and whispering.

“John, let’s go home.”

John glanced up at you, nodding gently, and you both stood up. Slowly, the rain dissipated, and as you and John made your way to the truck, the clouds began to lighten. Twilight lit up the sky, and as you both made it to the truck, covering Jack’s body up in a blanket that John had initially placed in there for you, and when John slipped onto his motorcycle that he had left at the lake the first time he had went after you, he gazed at you with a somber look.

Was it over, his gaze asked you.

You weren’t sure, so you just swallowed thickly before looking away from him and starting your truck up.

The water was finally still.

+++

A week after the incident, Jack’s body had been placed within his grave; replacing the stone-filled coffin. The apartment had been cleaned up, emptied and packed up, ready to leave the godforsaken town. You both were sitting on the bed in your bedroom in silence, exhausted from all the work you two had put into packing the apartment up, and John swallowed thickly. He glanced over at you, saying softly.

“(Y/n)…let’s go to Texas.”

You glanced back at him, eyes widened slightly.

“Texas? What’s in Texas?”

John looked down at his lap, fiddling with his phone as he spoke.

“I got a lady friend down there named Bonnie Macfarlane. Her and her pa run a ranch down there…thought maybe we could go down there and work on the ranch until we can…we can find a place to go.”

You hummed, looking out the window and watching the business of the town. It had livened up considerably since the night you and John had escaped the clutches of the man in the lake, and you chewed on your bottom lip before agreeing.

“Alright. I’ve never worked on a ranch before…but I think the change in scenery would be quite nice.”

John smiled lightly before he nodded, murmuring.

“Neither have I…but if that doesn’t work out, then I’ve got a friend named Charles up in Canada…runs a hunting and trapping business when he ain’t on the reserve. We could probably go to him…or I can get in touch with another lady friend named Sadie whose got a ranch in Kansas as well…her and her husband got lots of land and lots of work.”

You placed a hand on John’s shoulder, making the man glance at you as you replied gently.

“Let’s take it one step at a time. Let’s get in touch with Ms. Macfarlane and see what she’s got for us.”

John nodded, and you both yawned at the same time, exhausted from a hard day of packing and loading stuff onto the truck. John hummed, running a hand through his hair.

“Alright…I’m going to take a nap and then we’ll go.”

You nodded, tired as well, and John stood up from the bed, walking to his bedroom silently to fall asleep to prepare for a very long drive. You lied back against your bed, your tired eyes slipping open and closed repeatedly.

Since that night, you hadn’t heard Leon’s voice. You hadn’t dreamed of his slender fingers on your skin, you hadn’t heard his enchanting song, and you hadn’t seen a single glimpse of his blue eyes since that night he had vanished along with the lake.

So, you had gone to sleep relaxed and relieved, finally feeling free from this wretched town and those haunted waters of the lake.

When you woke up the next morning, your head was hurting; feeling as though you had drank a shit ton of alcohol the night before. There was a strange pain behind your eye, and you felt as though you were forgetting something. The door opened, and there stood your nephew Jack, his eyes bright as he ran into the room and jumped on the bed.

“Auntie, auntie! Daddy’s gonna take me mushroom hunting!”

You groaned and sat up, rubbing your forehead and flicking the covers away from you. Instead of an empty room as you had dreamed about, your room was still furnished. Pictures were still up on the wall, your desk and computer were still by the window, and your clothes were still strewn all over the floor. Jack was bouncing with excitement as he looked at you, and you murmured gently.

“Is he now?”

Jack nodded furiously, saying loudly and making your headache worse.

“Yeah! Daddy wanted you to come with us. We’re gonna camp over the weekend and roast marshmallows and make s’mores!”

You groaned softly and John’s figure came to the doorway, his grey eyes amused as he looked at you.

“Seems you had a little too much to drink last night.”

You gave the man a glare, hissing out.

“Shut up. Not like I haven’t had to wake your ass up in the morning after a long ass night of drinking and makin’ a fool of yourself.”

John snickered before he stated, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway as Jack began to jump on your bed and make your stomach swim.

“Can’t argue with that. Do you want to come with us or not? We’re leaving at noon.”

You glanced at Jack as he laughed and squealed with delight, but your stomach was swimming so much that you were sure you were going throw up. Standing up slowly, you swallowed thickly.

“Sorry, but I think I’ll have to pass. I picked up an extra shift at the shop for Chris, and it’s too late for me to say no. Why don’t you and Jack go and have a father-son day?”

John nodded before he glanced at Jack.

“Come on, son, we’re gonna go ahead and let your aunt go and think about her life choices.”

You smacked John’s shoulder, and he laughed, pulling from you as Jack bounced off the bed and ran past you towards the kitchen.

“Okay!”

You glanced at John before you went into the bathroom, feeling a strange sense of familiarity run through you as you gazed at him.

“Be careful, John.”

John scoffed, waving you off.

“I’m always careful. Love you, stupid.”

You rolled your eyes and flipped John the bird.

“Shut up, dumbass. Love you too, JM.”

As John and Jack left and you went into the bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed before beginning to wash your face and get ready for work. The whole time you did so, you couldn’t help but feel as though you had done all of this before…as if you were reliving a memory, and you simply chalked it up from the amount of alcohol you had drank the night before.

The lights flickered, and you frowned, tapping the light to get the bulb to stop flickering.

“Hm, gonna have to take a look at that after work.”

Leaving the bathroom, you missed the fingers sinking back beneath the surface of the draining sink.

The water rippled gently.

Why were you different?

[END]

tagging: @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @motzgurke @chernayawidow

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motzgurke · 1 year

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you’re doomed by the narrative, babygirl

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motzgurke · 1 year

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the ghost on the shore 2.

Nixie! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

A/n: I'm hoping to have a bit more action and interaction with Leon in this part, but i won't lie: the story is writing itself at the moment ;lsdkjfal;sdfj ANYWAY here's part two

Genre: Folklore, Horror, Angst Rated: Mature Warning: Death, Drowning, Child Death, Cursing, Nudity, Graphic Depictions of Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Slight Gore, idk what else

Author: ScariusAquarius

You didn't tell John about your encounter with the man in the lake. The whole trek back to your vehicle, it felt as though you were lethargic; stumbling over branches and bushes and slipping on wet patches of dead leaves as the night began to settle in. You had almost fallen asleep at the wheel while driving home, so suddenly exhausted that you had almost run yourself straight off the road.

The whole drive home, all you could see what the man's face and his glowing blue eyes looking at you with such anger and curiosity that you felt like you had done something wrong. Was it because you didn't give into him? Was it because you had resisted his siren song and gotten away?

When you got home, John was still awake, and though he had greeted you, you didn't even acknowledge him. You walked past him and his confused gaze and went straight into your room, only stopping your path to your bed to change into pajamas and go to sleep.

The whole night, you had nightmares about the man in the lake. You dreamed of not being able to resist his song, his wild sky eyes drawing you in as he played you his song, and you dreamed of his hands taking such a firm hold of your face that when you realized what was happening, he was already dragging you under.

His embrace was cold and dark, pulling you with him into the black void that sat beneath the lake, his lips brushing against your forehead as his voice echoed all around you.

Come closer.

Listen to my song.

Let me hold your broken soul.

Why are you different?

You could feel the water entering your lungs when you finally couldn't hold your breath anymore, the underwater fauna wrapping around you as it pushed you under and into the void, Leon's cold fingers leaving you as he watched you drown, not once reaching for your outstretched hand as you disappeared.

You awoke with such a fright, gasping in air desperately. You could still feel the ache in your chest from not being able to breathe, and you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, glancing at the clock. It was about 7am, the orange sun shining brightly within your room, and you sighed.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you stood up, grabbing some clothes and towels. As you made your way into the bathroom, you peeked into John's room, spying him sprawled out and snoring loudly, an empty bottle of whiskey next to his bed. Sighing softly to yourself, you shook your head slightly before stepping into the bathroom to take your shower.

The water was steaming hot, soothing your aching body and distracting you just enough that you felt a bit better. However, there was a brush against your mind; an anxiety and paranoia that made you feel as though you were being watched. When the feeling settled in, you quickly finished your shower and got out of the water, feeling strangely suffocated by the humidity in the bathroom.

Getting changed and out of the bathroom as quickly as possible, you went into the kitchen and sighed. Leaning against the counter, you wiped your face, pinching the bridge of your nose as a headache began to bloom. You suddenly became lost in thought, unable to stop thinking about the man in the lake. His blue eyes, the way his fingers skillfully slid along the frets of his black violin, his cupid lips, and his deathly pale skin.

His voice still echoed within your mind.

Come closer. Listen to my song.

"(Y/n)?"

You gasped, shooting around to see John standing in the kitchen with you, his grey eyes confused as he looked at you. There was concern on his face, and you swallowed thickly before you spoke.

"You startled me, John. Don't sneak up on me like that."

John squinted slightly, replying as he started the coffee pot, glancing at you.

"I called your name twice, but you didn't answer. Are you alright? You looked...scared."

There was a part of you that wondered if you should tell your little brother about your trip into the woods, but you knew that if you did, John would become upset and probably go out there to see if he could confront the spirit of the lake himself. However, there was another part that couldn't even speak about your encounter lest it made it real.

So, you just shook your head softly, murmuring as you turned back to the sink to fill up a glass of water.

"Just remembering a nightmare from last night. I'll be alright."

John didn't look convinced, but he said nothing as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Sparing a couple glances at you, the man wondered what it was that you had dreamed of last night that had you so freaked out.

He wondered if he should tell you that he had heard you gasping for breath as if you were drowning. Perhaps you had been dreaming about Jack, but the fearful look in your eyes told John different.

You weren't one to usually get scared.

Before moving into the town when you and John were just freshly eighteen back in the early 80's, John didn't believe in the supernatural. He thought it was just a bunch of hocus-pocus created by the town, as every town tended to have their local legends.

But then he noticed some people would go missing, and everyone would whisper about the Man in the Lake. That malevolent spirit of the water that played his violin; that white stallion that whinnied loudly in the night. After so many years, after so many women and children going missing...John started to believe a little more in the legend.

And then Jack disappeared, and John just knew. Deep down, John knew that it was the man in the lake, but you'd never been superstitious. You didn't believe an ounce in anything that went bump in the night, understandably, but John didn't see any other reason why Jack was gone.

Jack never wandered far from John's eyesight. So why then? Why would Jack suddenly disappear like that?

John watched you quietly as you drank a cup of water, the cup subtly shaking within your grasp, and John's eyes squinted slightly. You said that you had a nightmare...was it possible it was about the man in the lake? John knew asking you about it would possibly set you off, but the curiosity was eating at him.

What the hell was going on with his big sister?

He looked away from you when you turned, staring down into his cup of coffee, and he listened to you walk away to your bedroom to most-likely get dressed for the day. Maybe John was overthinking it...maybe he was just paranoid, but John was never wrong with his intuition.

He'd have to think of a way to speak to you about it when you weren't in a fragile state of mind. Instead, John decided that he would try to go out into town and maybe go see that pretty coffee shop barista named Ingrid that just moved into town.

-TIMESKIP-

After taking a moment to get dressed and get yourself calmed down, you grabbed your keys and decided to take a ride into town. John was already back in the bathroom, showering and listening to music all the while, so you left him a note stating that you were going into town again.

You weren't sure what was possessing you to do so, but there was a curiosity in your mind that was begging and pleading you to get to the library.

When you walked in, Leah was standing at the checkout desk, her tired blue eyes staring deeply into the screen. When you approached, she spared you a glance before looking surprised as she whispered.

"Ms. (Y/n), what a surprise. What can I help you with?"

You gave her a weak smile, murmuring as you glanced around the large library.

"Um, where is the mythology section?"

Leah was slightly curious as to why you were interested in the mythology section, but she paid no mind to ask questions as she pointed you to the way.

"Go down the stairs and go all the way to the back."

You nodded quietly before wordlessly walking away, ignoring Leah's curious stare before you heard her pick up the phone, saying in a surprised whisper.

"Daniel, you'll never believe who walked in!"

Her voice faded the second you got to the stairs, and you were strangely perturbed by how empty the library was. Usually, the library was busy during the week, usually due to the grade and college kids and adults needing relief from life, but today, it was barren.

It was unnerving.

When you made it down the stairs and walked to the back, you immediately began to skim the section. Were you sure you would find it here? Perhaps you should have asked for the 'local legends' or 'local history' area.

But then that would give you away, wouldn't it?

You bit your lip before a strange shiver filled you, the library becoming cold, and you glanced down at the shelves, your eyes catching the spine of a book that seemed weirdly misplaced.

Frowning, you grabbed the book carefully and felt dread fill your whole body as you stared down at the title.

Nøkke: Spirits of the Deep

Sitting down at one of the tables, you immediately began to read, time seeming to still as you became engrossed within the ink and paper. Every turn of the tea-colored pages made a plume of dust float up, clogging your nose and causing you to become lightheaded the more you read.

Sometimes he encounters people in human form, as a handsome youth with a fiddle dipped in divine gold and as melodious as the earth itself, to lure young women to himself, and promises them joy and gladness in his hall if they want to go along with him.

But if they get a suspicion of who he is, when they are giving themselves away, such that they can call him by his true name — nykur — then he loses the power over them and must release them and go along into his waters

But what was his name?

You groaned softly, a headache beginning to bloom as a sudden image of the man in the lake came into your mind, his cold dead lips against your temple and whispering lowly in an ancient desd language into your skin, his strong hands gripping your neck, and you gasped, shooting up from your seat and panting as you shook your head.

Fuck, you were starting to go crazy.

Rubbing your eyes, you wiped away the panicked tears before glancing down at the book and feeling your blood run cold.

There on the page was the image of a painting that looked exactly like the man in the lake.

-JOHN-

His cheeks were as hot as the coffee within his hands as the barista left his table. Ingrid Hunnigan was a beautiful woman, and he was certain he had never felt his heart race as much as it had when John had first been with his ex-wife, Abigail.

Hunnigan was funny, intelligent, had just the right amount of sweetness and wit that it reminded him of the coffee she made for him; straight black with espresso and one tablespoon of sugar.

She was sunshine in this dreadfully cloudy town.

How long had they spoken to each other since he arrived at the coffee shop? John wasn't sure, but he knew he had to leave soon. It would seem creepy if he stayed too long, and besides, John was starting to grow concerned for his big sister.

Where was his sister anyway? John slipped out his phone, scrolling to your contact before clicking on it. As the text bubble showed up, John pursed his lips.

J.M: what are you up to? In the coffee shop in town if you want to grab a cup. I'll pay.

For a moment, his phone was silent before it vibrated; the screen lighting up as you responded back like lightning.

(Nickname): Can't. Busy. Love you, JM.

John immediately frowned. It wasn't like you to be so short and curt. Just what were you up to? What was going on? John's face downturned into an expression of worry and annoyance, and he glanced out the window towards the library just a ways down the street.

He squinted.

You were busting out of the library, looking to be in a hurry as you jogged to your pickup truck and threw your bag into the passenger seat. Your eyes looked red and slightly puffy, but John couldn't exactly tell from the distance.

But he knew you were unnerved by the way the tires screeched as you booked it out of the parking lot and down the opposite way towards your shared home.

Laying money down on the table as well as his phone number for Hunnigan, John immediately began to trek to the library, watching your tail lights disappear down the road. Were you going fast to avoid being seen by him or from something else?

Walking into the library, John was greeted by Leah, who seemed to look frazzled. Shaking her head slightly, Leah greeted John quietly.

"Hello, Mr. Marston. You just missed your sister."

John frowned slightly, leaning forward to ask softly as he glanced around the library.

"Sorry to have to ask such a weird question, but do you have any idea why she went running out of here like a bat out of hell?"

Leah shrugged, responding so softly that John had to strain his ears just to hear her.

"I'm not sure, but she looked positively spooked. I think she might be looking for information on the man in the lake. (Y/n) checked out a book on the legend."

His sister who didn't believe a single ounce of paranormal things checked out a book on the man in the lake? John glanced at Leah as she stared up at him, and he watched as the woman chewed her lip in anxiety, looking nervous as she glanced away from him.

"What is it, Ms. Leah?"

Leah couldn't help but to whisper.

"Keep her close, Mr. Marston. The Man in the Lake seems keen to have her too."

Leah's words sent chills down John's spine, and he was speechless as he began to slowly walk out of the library. Suddenly, it all began to make sense. Your sudden anxiety, the nightmares, the random interest in the man in the lake...there was more to this than he thought.

Jogging to his motorcycle, John immediately fired it up and bound down the road after you, his heart beginning to race with anger and fear. First his son, and now you. What was the Man in the Lake trying to do? Why was the spirit targeting his family? What had John done wrong to deserve this?

He had to make sure you were alright. John had to make sure that you were safe. In fact, John would pack his things, grab your stuff, and get the two of you the hell out of the town and far away from the man in lake.

John would kill the man in the lake before he ever let him have his big sister.

The water rippled gently.

-READER-

Your chest was pounding. You weren't sure if it was panic or fear, but you were finding it hard to breathe. When you pulled into the driveway, thunder rolled in the distance, and it began to rain heavily. There was a strange sense of foreboding that filled the air as the atmosphere became humid and strange, and you took a few deep breaths as you sat within the front seat of your truck.

You weren't exactly sure why you were here or what had possessed you to drive here, but you couldn't help but to stare out at the forest as it seemed to swallow you in. Shutting the truck off, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

You could feel him. You weren't sure how you knew it was him, but you just knew. You could hear his violin playing in the distance and through the glass of the windshield and windows of the truck. You could hear his voice within your mind, the softest breath against the shell of your ear as his voice echoed within the air.

Come closer. Listen to my song.

I need you. Why are you different?

You swallowed thickly as your eyes fluttered closed, feeling his fingertips on the hollow of your throat, and you felt your body begin to tremble. His touch was gentle, not like all the times before where he gripped your flesh to tightly that it felt as though you couldn't breathe.

What was happening? Why was he being different?

What is your name?

You could feel the annoyance within his words, his fingers pressing harder against your skin.

Come closer. Listen to my song. Maybe I'll tell you.

Perhaps it was a trick. Perhaps he was just trying to lure you in, but god, was it working. Was it wrong to stroke that curiosity in you? Your movements were almost robotic as you stepped out of the truck, shutting the door and ignoring your phone vibrating desperately within the seat as you walked towards the lake.

The violin began to become louder as you approached the lake, and there he was. His skin was looking slightly flushed, not like the deathly pale it had been before. His hair was shinier despite the drops of water dripping from the wet strands, and his eyes were open and still so blue; looking as if he had been expecting you.

You were standing at the edge of the water, your shoes dipping into the surface of the water, and the man's lips curled slightly as he played a romantic tune on his black violin, his fingers gliding sensually along the the neck of the violin.

You could feel yourself falling within his grasp; falling deep within his song as he played, and you could feel your heart skipping a beat as he faced you.

"What are you...?"

Your voice was shaky; a soft whisper carried by the wind that sung a gentle breeze in melody with the man's song, and his intense gaze stayed upon you as you fell to your knees. The water was soaking your jeans, the wet grass and dirt on the shore staining your shoes, and the man continued to play as he gazed at you.

The song he was playing echoed around you, encasing you within a shroud of enchanting sensuality as the man in the lake played his song, and you found yourself unable to do anything but listen.

That's right, you sweet girl. Listen to my song. Give into me.

Your eyes fluttered, your vision blurring for a moment, and suddenly he was kneeling in front of you, still playing. His hips gently swayed with the whispered rhythm of a beat only he could hear, and he leaned in close enough for you to feel his cold breath against you.

You were sure you weren't even breathing as he continued to enchant you, his half-lidded blue eyes glowing slightly as he gazed at you so seductively.

Was he trying to seduce you?

You swallowed thickly before whispering as his knee gently bumped against yours causing electricity to run up your spine.

"What is your name?"

His lips parted slightly, his body leaning closer to you just enough that you could smell what seemed like rain emanating from him. His song was slowly, and you could feel the foreboding sense of danger filling the air as he began to whisper.

"Pledge yourself to me and I'll tell you, little dove."

But you could feel his name on the tip of your tongue. You could hear the vibrations of the syllables and consonants dripping within your mind like drops sliding down melting icicles on a warm winter morning. You could see the letters within the environment around you; the letters reflected within his eyes, but you just couldn't bring yourself to say it.

It was almost as if something was keeping you from saying the name.

The man in the lake suddenly shot his gaze to your right, but you couldn't look away from him. His lips curled back into an annoyed sneer before he looked down at you, his gaze firm as he looked at you.

Placing his fingers under your chin, he whispered to you, his lips dangerously close to yours.

"Come closer. Pledge yourself to me."

Your body was leaning forwards against your will, drawing you closer to him as you began to panic within your mind.

Stop moving! Stop! I don't want this! This isn't real!

"(Y/n)!"

You could hear your name being shouted in the distance, John's voice frantic as he seemed to search for you, and the man in the lake became impatient.

He could not have you if he took you for himself.

But suddenly, you were beginning to whisper.

"Le...Le..."

His blue eyes widened, looking frightful. There was no way you could know his name. But those first two letters, that first syllable...there was no mistaking it.

Before you could utter the next part of his name, the man in the lake spun around and dove into the water, disappearing out of sight as John's frantic yells got louder.

You felt yourself become physically free from the trance the man in the lake had put you under, your body immediately relaxing from the tense posture it had taken since becoming enchanted, and you fell back against the ground.

The sky was dark with rain clouds, fat drops of cold water beginning to fall, and your breaths were shallow as you became incredibly lethargic.

Warm hands grasped your face as John came into view, his grey eyes wide with fright and concern as he looked down at you.

"Hey, hey, stay with me, okay?"

"John?"

John nodded, picking you up carefully, and you groaned softly as a headache began to pound within your skull. John immediately began to trek away from the lake as your head fell against his shoulder, and the man suddenly felt compelled to look behind him.

Glancing at the lake, John felt an eerie sensation of being watched come over him, and the man shook his head as he began to jog to your vehicle as the rain began to come down harder.

Had John looked closer, he would have noticed the man in the lake staring at him from behind his rock as John took his trophy away.

Slowly, the water became still.

[CHAPTER THREE SOON]

tagging: @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @motzgurke @chernayawidow

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motzgurke · 1 year

Text

the ghost on the shore.

Nixie! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

A/n: LOOK I KNOW I WAS GONNA WRITE A LUIS SERA FIC BUT I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF. I've been dying to write this and since I have motivation (i always do when i'm not at my house for some reason) I was finally able to just sit down and power through this. I hope you guys like it!! and yes, john and jack are from red dead. sue me.

also i listened to this as leons violin music <3 and this

Genre: Folklore, Horror, Angst Rated: Mature Warning: Death, Drowning, Child Death, Cursing, Nudity, Graphic Depictions of Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Slight Gore, idk what else

Author: ScariusAquarius

The water was still.

Sunlight filtered into the lonely forest as twilight entered the realm, covering the trees and floor of the woods in a bittersweet golden jade glow. The birds did not sing, the trees did not whisper, and the animals did not dare make a step as the man played his violin.

He was sitting atop of a mossy and algae-covered rock in the middle of the large lake, his slender fingers skillfully sliding and pressing upon the frets as his rosined bow glided along strings. His music was melancholic; despondent in its tune yet haunting all the same as the sounds bounced off the water and into the air.

Despite the sad melody, he always did enjoy playing his violin for the earth, even though it would often bring unwanted guests to his lake; his home.

He knew he was being watched.

The man, if the divine could call him that anymore, could feel eyes upon him from just beyond the shore. They had been standing there for a few minutes now, enchanted by his violin just as he intended.

He knew it would not be long until the unsuspecting child would give into the whisper within his youthful mind to wade into the waters, and the second his little feet would grace the top of the lake, the man's beautiful song would have to come to an end.

The man turned to the boy on the shore, looking at him with his bright blue eyes, quietly beckoning him to come closer. Listen to my song.

Poor little boy, the man had to think as the boy began to walk into the water, he would not last very long. As the water rose to the boy's chest the closer the child got, the more excited the man's music became. Instead of the haunting melody it had been before, now there was a playful; almost jovial tune beginning to cut through the light of twilight.

The water was up to the boy's neck now, and the man's toes were beginning to curl in excitement as he continued to quietly beckon the child. How much longer would it take? How much more patience would he have to extend to the little child whose little feet could only move so fast in such frigid waters?

The little boy was under the surface of the water now, slowly swimming his way to the rock in which the man sat, little arms flailing as the boy swam the best that he could. The man's music gradually went into a crescendo, going back to that haunting tune, but this time, his melody spelled out disaster.

Tragedy was afoot, and the second the boy placed his hands upon the rock and broke the surface, gasping for air, the man couldn't help but to smile. Allowing the boy to sit with him, the man was almost vibrating with anticipation. The very second that his song came to an end, the man placed down his violin before grabbing the boy by the neck and diving deep down into the water; dragging him down into unnatural depths unusual for a lake.

The water slowly rippled.

-ONE WEEK LATER-

The tears still had yet to dry as you sat on the edge of your bed. Within your hand was a picture, the edges frayed from how much you had been handling the memory, and you bit your lip as you stared down at the boy smiling so widely at the camera.

Your nephew had only been 6 years old.

It had been a complete accident, your brother told you. John had been out in the woods hunting mushrooms with his son when he had decided to make camp since it was getting dark. Jack had claimed that he needed to go to the bathroom, and when he didn't come back, John had tried to search for him. Nightfall, however, came so fast that John was forced to wait until morning.

And then John found Jack's boots by the shore of the lake, and he knew what had happened. When they pulled Jack's clothes out of the lake, John was in so shocked and upset that the medics forced him to go to the hospital.

He'd begun drinking ever since.

When John told you the news, you had been devastated. You had just seen Jack that day, and you could still remember how excited Jack had been to go camping and mushroom hunting with his father. God only knew how much Jack liked being able to spend time with his dad when John wasn't too caught up on work.

Jack's funeral had been earlier in the day. Friends, family, and many of the townfolk who knew and loved Jack had attended. Nobody said a word about John's intoxicated state as he stood before the preacher and the grave, swaying and fiddling with his flask. Eyes ringed in red, bags beneath them, stinking of body odor and cigarettes, John hadn't spoken a single word.

Nobody blamed him.

So, now you sat within Jack's bedroom, looking at all the books that still had bookmarks in them that Jack wouldn't be able to finish, all the model boats and hunting gear his father had bought for him, taking in the scent of the vanilla cookie wax melts Jack always begged John to buy because of how 'yummy' they smelled, as he had said it.

You missed him terribly.

There was a shuffle within the doorway, and you looked up to see John standing there, nursing his flask and swaying as he tried to blink the bleariness of his eyesight away. He couldn't even look into the room, staring down at his muddy boots, and you felt an urge to suddenly cry as you stared at your brother.

"They keep saying the man in the lake got the boy."

His gruff voice was bitter, his grey eyes dark as he glared down at the floor and shifted to catch himself as he suddenly lost balance, and you shook your head. John was quiet for a moment before he whispered, choking up as he held a hand to his mouth.

"I looked away for a second...let him go to the bathroom like he wanted to and he was gone."

"John..."

Your voice was small, confused on what exactly to say, and John shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as tears filled his eyes.

"I hadn't even noticed Jack was gone for too long...had I been more diligent...god, it should have been me."

John fell to his knees, sobbing, and you gathered your brother up into your arms, sniffling as his tears invoked your own. You whispered, not trusting yourself to be able to hold back any sobs alongside John if you spoke any louder.

"It wasn't your fault, John. They said his foot got caught on a fallen tree beneath the water."

"It was the man in the lake, (Y/n). He got him. He has my son."

Legends in the town spoke of a spirit that lived within the lake. Sometimes, he appeared as a man playing the violin, and sometimes, he was a beautiful and majestic stallion that would allow his victims to climb on before dragging them to their watery deaths. Many children and women had gone missing when visiting the lake, but there was never an explanation for why.

One minute, they were there, and the next, they vanished; never to be seen again. Nobody really knew if the legends were true, but the bodies of the missing were never recovered. Only some personal belongings here and there.

That's why Jack's death was so hard. There wasn't even a body to bury. Just an empty casket filled with stones to give a false sense of human body weight.

But even you could tell the casket had been too heavy while pall-bearing.

John was sobbing for a minute before suddenly, snores wracked his body, and you couldn't help but to clutch your brother tighter. Using all your strength, you lifted the broken man up and laid him down on Jack's bed, taking his boots off for him before quietly shutting the door.

Making your way down the stairs, you could see a few of the townsfolk standing in the kitchen, all of them nursing a few drinks and snacks that you had made for after the funeral. They were whispering to themselves, but you could hear the words coming out of their mouths.

"I'm telling you, it was the man in the lake. That boy got enchanted and he got him."

A woman, a lady that you recognized to be the owner of the public library in town, shook her head.

"Daniel, you know there ain't no such thing. Jack probably wanted to go swimming, but you know he hasn't learned how to yet. He was supposed to start lessons with his aunt next week."

A much older fellow that owned the gunstore just beyond the library curled his lips into a grim expression. He was nursing a beer, courtesy of John after he filled the refrigerator with the alcohol.

"Leah, I've been in this town long before you both ever saw the sunrise upon this place. Children, women...they've been disappearing for years...every single one of them...that lake is cursed...has been since this godforsaken town began."

When they noticed you, their expressions of grim secrets and fear was washed off of their faces only to be replaced with looks of sympathy. You swallowed thickly, suddenly angry as they all began to open their mouths to speak, and you couldn't help but blurt out.

"Keep that shit about the man in the lake to yourselves. My nephew is dead, and now my brother is ranting and raving about the damn thing. Jack drowned. No man in the lake got him. The boy fucking drowned. That's all there is too it."

Your voice was shaking, small despite the bite to your words, and you couldn't even bother to wait around to hear what the people had to say. At the moment, you couldn't even care. You couldn't care what any of them had to say.

All you cared about was Jack and your brother.

Sighing heavily when you got out the door, you ran a hand over your face and felt the urge to scream at the top of your lungs. You were trying so hard to hold it together, but it was so hard. For years, you were the one to keep a level-headed mindset. You were the oldest sibling, so it was by design that you were the one to stay calm in dire situations.

But being strong suddenly didn't feel good anymore.

Would it have been different had you been there with them? John had asked you to go, but you had already picked up an extra shift at work to make a bit of extra money so you weren't so worried about being able to pay John's rent that he was behind on to help him out, let alone your own rent.

Biting your lip, you shook your head and glanced at your shoes. They were a bit dirty from walking through the muddy grounds of the cemetery for Jack's funeral, and so you decided that it would be best to call it a night and go home to clean them.

You would think more in the morning.

-TIMESKIP-

It was noon the next day. Your shirt was sticking to your back from all the sweat that was running down your spine as you moved boxes off of the delivery truck and into the shop that you worked at in town with your brother, the hot summer sun beating down on you as you unloaded the vehicle.

The auto shop was fairly empty, save for a few mechanics that weren't on-call and instead working on the vehicles parked inside that still had yet to be fixed. Nobody would speak. It was almost as if they were afraid that you were surrounded by glass and any word they would speak would shatter the box and shatter you next.

You were actually thankful.

Less speaking meant more time to focus on doing your job, and more focus meant you got the job done faster and were able to go home. The sound of the door to the front office opening caught your attention, and you looked over your shoulder to see the boss, a man named Chris, walk in. His brown eyes were firm, steely in his reproach as he made his way to you.

To the rest of the people in the shop, it would look as though Chris was angry, but you knew that expression of worry any day of the week.

"How are you doing?"

You almost grimaced as the words left Chris' lips.

"Doing just fine, I suppose. Just...trying to work and get through."

Chris was quiet for a moment before he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Listen, I know that you usually just deal with things and don't give yourself any real time to process stuff before you go ahead onto the next shit, but I think you should take some time off. I know how much Jack meant to you."

You frowned heavily, stating firmly.

"Chris, I can't just take time off of work. I have bills to pay."

"I'll make it paid leave. I just don't want you to drown in work after what happened with your nephew and the man in the lake."

The man in the lake. Ever since that day, that's all you ever heard. It was hard to bite your tongue and not give your boss any lip, but in the end, you knew it would be futile. Chris was as stubborn as a mule. Whatever he set his mind to, he did it with no second thoughts nor hesitation.

Hell, you were sure he would punch straight through a boulder if he really wanted to, so you just set the last box down onto the dolly and slammed the door shut to the delivery truck before silently walking away.

As you walked down the street towards your car, your eyes caught attention of a newspaper headline from the paper one of the older business owners always read during his mornings in the diner.

MAN IN THE LAKE STRIKES AGAIN: CITY COUNSIL SEEKS ANSWERS

You were certain that you drove 90 the whole way home. When you arrived, John was sitting on the couch in a pair of shorts and a tank top, nursing a beer as he sat in front of the TV. The news was on, the news anchor speaking solemnly.

"Locals are petrified once more as the Man in the Lake strikes again. Tragically, six year old Jack-"

You shut the TV off with a furious click of the remote, John's drunken eyes glaring at you as he slurred out.

"What the fuck. I was watching that."

You shook your head, throwing the remote down onto the coffee table haphazardly, the back of the remote falling off and the batteries rolling onto the carpet below.

"I don't give a shit, John. You're drinking yourself into a grave next to Jack's if you keep going on like this."

John scoffed, muttering as he took another deep drink.

"It'd be best if I did. I'm a piece of shit father that should have never taken him out there."

You grabbed the beer from his hand, giving the man a harsh look.

"Johnathan. I know losing Jack was hard. I'm having trouble even trying to keep it together, but drinking yourself to sleep every night won't bring him back."

John looked angry, opening his mouth to speak, and you sat down in front of him, forcing his hands into your own as you added.

"I miss him. I miss his laughter, his reenactments of whatever fairytale he was reading at the moment, and his cute nose...I miss him being excited to see me when I got time off of work to come hang out with him...I miss watching him devour ice cream like he hadn't eaten in days."

John was quiet, staring at you as tears welled up in his eyes as you sadly laughed, clutching John's hands tightly as you whispered.

"I miss him too, John...and there's a part of me that feels like I'm to blame too because I didn't go on that trip with you guys. Had I been there too, maybe it would have been different. He'd be here with us, watching his cartoons while stuffing his face with your nasty excuse for spaghetti."

John couldn't help but to snort before he began to suddenly sob, clutching your hands as he ducked his head low, stringy hair falling into his face and hiding his expression from you.

"I feel like such a piece of shit, (Y/n). I wasn't a good father, but I tried to be. Ever since...ever since she left, it's been hard...I just didn't think I'd fuck up this badly."

"John, it wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault. He wandered off when he knew he wasn't supposed to, fell into the lake, and you and I both know that he didn't know how to swim."

John shook his head, his voice so quiet that you almost didn't hear him.

"I know it was him, (Y/n). I know he took my son and killed him. They never found Jack's body."

You knew what he was referencing. The man in the lake. The evil spirit of the water. The fictional legend the town made up to soothe their grieving hearts. It was almost futile to even tell John that it wasn't real, so you simply sat there with John as he cried, his grip so tight that your fingers had started to go numb.

You'd worry about the ache within your chest in the morning.

Instead, when John had passed out from the drunkenness and the tears he had cried, you had laid him down again and wrapped him up in a blanket. It was hard to watch him become the shell of a man you once knew, but grief was never easy. Jack wasn't your child, so you'd never truly understand the pain, but your heart was just as broken.

You were just trying to stay strong for your little brother.

Settling into your bed, you sighed as you stared up at the ceiling. Sleep was hard to come by nowadays, but you could feel the exhaustion finally catching up to you. Your eyes closed, and you were suddenly dreaming.

You dreamed of water, of hands pulling you under, of cyan eyes that glowed with malice within the murky waters of the lake.

A violin was playing.

The water was still.

-TIMESKIP-

You didn't tell John about the dream. In fact, you didn't tell anybody about it knowing they would stir up a ruckus about how the 'man in the lake' was now coming after you or something stupid like that. You chalked it up to being exhausted and from how much you've been hearing about the damn legend since Jack's death.

Sighing into your cup of coffee, you bit your lip as you stared out of the diner window. The place was busy for a Sunday, most of the customers coming in from the Church down the street, and you could hear a couple talking to each other from behind you. The second they mentioned the legend, your ear automatically tuned in.

"It won't be long until another poor soul goes near that lake, James."

The old man named James sighed, pausing to either take a bite of food or drink his coffee before speaking again.

"None of the youngsters in the town believe in the legend. They haven't been around long enough to know. I keep telling the mayor to put up warning signs, but he won't budge."

The woman scoffed, muttering bitterly.

"That old crone never believed either. The first few deaths, he reported them as being bear attacks!"

James huffed.

"They just don't know any better, Loretta. The man in the lake isn't seen by anyone and lives to tell the tale, so they just don't know."

Your coffee cup was empty, food already eaten, and you were beginning to grow irritated. You were about to ask for the check when the woman named Loretta asked James.

"Do you think the boy was having dreams? Rose said that her little girl had dreams about the man in the lake before she disappeared."

The man hummed deeply, replying lowly.

"We probably won't ever know. God knows the boy's father and aunt are too distraught to think of such a thing, and I've heard from Daniel that the aunt don't believe."

When the waitress came, you silently gave her the money and left, chair screeching from how fast you had stood up and tried to get out of the diner.

You hated small towns.

You hated that everyone knew your business, that everyone you passed gave you such sad and sympathetic eyes, and you hated that everyone was blaming some dumb legend for Jack's death. In a weird burst of determination, you were eager to prove them wrong. You were eager to prove the town that there was no such thing as the man in the lake.

So, you decided that you would make your way to the woods. Sending John a quick text about how you were running some errands and would be back soon, you shut your phone off, got into your old beat-up pickup truck, and began driving towards the forest.

The whole time you drove towards the forest, your knuckles were white from how taut the skin was pulled over bone as you gripped the steering wheel. Man in the Lake this, man in the lake that, why did it always circle back to that dumb man and the lake?

Slamming the truck door shut, you left your phone in the truck, grabbed a pocketknife, a small flashlight just in case, and some granola bars. The lake wasn't too far, but just far enough that you would probably get a bit hungry on the way there.

Weaving in and out of the trees, ducking beneath leaves and long branches, hopping over fallen logs, you were a woman on a mission. You weren't exactly sure what time it was when you began to near John's camp, but the trees were beginning to block out the sun, the forest surrounded within the light of twilight.

It was odd for lunch time.

John's tent had been packed up, his and Jack's personal belongings already recovered, but you could still see the blackened sticks and logs of an old campfire. Looking around, you began to wonder where exactly the lake was located.

Deciding to go with your gut, you took a right and began to walk, a strange sense of foreboding coming over you. The birds did not sing, the trees did not whisper, and the animals did not dare make a step. It was as if the forest had frozen over, keeping itself still as the sudden tune of a violin began to echo through the environment.

It was...beautiful. To you, it sounded sad; a tune of sorrow that had your skin pricking with goosebumps. Who would be out here playing the violin? Maybe one of the townsfolk who didn't believe in the man in the lake was playing for Jack.

The closer you got, the more relaxed you started to feel. The notes soothed you, filled you with a sense of serenity, and you found your feet to be moving on their own. When you arrived at the shore of the lake, you were shocked into such a stupor that you could not move.

A man was sitting on top of a large rock in the middle of the big lake.

Water dripped from his legs, his toes just skimming the surface of the water, and his skin was deathly pale. HIs hair was brown and long in the front, cropped slightly short in the back in the style of a 90's fringe. His eyes were closed as he played his violin, his fingers skillfully pressing and sliding against the strings of his haunting instrument, and you were almost dumbstruck by the way his cupid lips parted to let out a small breath.

He wore no clothes, simply in the nude and thankfully facing to the right so you didn't see anything more than you needed to. His music became slightly louder, and you could hear the slightest whispers in your mind to come closer. Listen to my song.

Your feet dipped into the water, and the water was so cold that you were shocked completely out of the strange trance the man had placed you under.

His eyes finally opened, and they were the most beautiful shade of blue that you had ever seen.

The man turned to you, brows furrowed as his music suddenly stopped, and you were frozen from the fear as his eyes glowed just the slightest within the light of twilight. The two of you stared at one another for a very silent moment, and the wind suddenly blew, making you shiver.

Your voice was soft and shaky as you whispered.

"So they're true?"

The man was silent, simply staring you down with an expression of irritation yet curiosity. He began to play his violin again, the tune more foreboding and disastrous, and you could feel another whisper against your mind.

Come closer. Listen to my song.

Your feet would not move. Something kept your feet planted firmly in the ground, and the man finally turned towards you, his violin becoming angry. The wind picked up, but the water of the lake did not budge. It stayed deathly still, as if it only wanted to ripple if you stepped into it, and you swallowed thickly.

You were strangely unable to speak as if something was keeping you from interrupting the song. Fear rippled through you as well as a strong temptation to get closer. Your eyes were beginning to water from the need to blink, but you were so worried that if you blinked, he would disappear.

The man was growing confused and frustrated.

Why weren't you coming closer? Why wasn't his music entrancing you? You should have been next to him already, enchanted by his song and under his complete control. The man could feel that there was a part of you that was his, but there was another part; an unreachable part that refused to become trapped beneath his spell.

Why were you different?

It scared him. In all the eons that the spirit had lived, he'd never been refused before. Why now? Why were you suddenly an enigma? What made you so special? The man slowly made his song come to an end.

"Do you not like it?"

His voice was frustrated, almost sounding water-logged and vibrated as if he was under water. Within those blue eyes, you could see the confusion and...fear. You spoke to him, feet still planted firmly on the ground though they still felt tempted to move forward.

"It's beautiful...but I didn't come here to listen to your song."

The man looked startled, taken back as your words registered, and he hissed.

"Why are you here then? What makes you different?"

Different? Did he mean that in such a way that you weren't entranced by his song? You frowned and stated.

"I'm here to find out what you did to my nephew. Where is Jack?"

The man's eyes lit up slightly as he spoke, head tilting almost robotically as his words carried through the wind.

"He's with the others."

But where was that? The man almost chuckled as he sensed your confusion and he brought up his violin again, playing a sadder tune that almost had you closing your eyes. You could feel him digging his nails into the tresses of your mind, desperately trying to pull you in, but you shook your head and clutched at your temples.

The music was so loud, it was almost as if he was next to you, and you could hear his voice within your head repeating the words over and over like a mantra.

Come closer. Listen to my song.

Come closer.

Let me hold your broken soul.

You took a step back, gasping in air, and you were disoriented for a moment. Your head was pounding, heart racing within your chest, and you swore that you hadn't been breathing for a while.

The music was gone.

And so was the violinist.

The water slowly rippled.

[END PART ONE]

TAGGING: @backseatmary

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motzgurke · 1 year

Text

spoiler alert: he never took off his shirt (unless.........)

full HD thing is on my patreon🌿

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motzgurke · 1 year

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Idk why this concept makes my heart so warm but I’d love to see something where the reader asks Leon to do her makeup for fun and he’s clueless! Like a lil date night activity!

Makeover!

{Leon tries to do your makeup}

Aww this is too cute!! Thank you sm for the request my lovely!! Hope you enjoy!! 💕

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“What’s this one again?” Leon asks, fiddling with the eyeshadow palette, shutting it and closing it over and over again as the magnetic seal clicks with the action.

You’re shocked at how willing he was to say yes to the idea of him giving you a makeover.

“That’s eye shadow,” you tell him, before going over the products one by one as he nods with an enthusiastic smile, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited even if he was utterly clueless about what to do.

You take a seat on your desk chair watching as he takes the foundation, “This one first?” He asks a little unsure of what he’s actually doing, and you giggle as his brows knit together with confusion.

“It’s all you baby, whatever you think goes first” You look up at him with a smile.

“Alright” he smiles, and you watch, feeling a little nervous, as he holds the bottle to your face, the nuzzle pressed against your cheek as he squirts the product on your face, and you gasp at the sudden coldness, giggling as he mumbles a small ‘fuck’

He takes one of the many brushes dabbing it across your face to smooth out the foundation that sits against your skin, he stands back admiring your face with a proud smirk before turning back to the dresser and picking up the eyeshadow pallet he was playing with earlier, and you cringe at the bright neon colours, out of all the pallets he just had to pick that one.

“Don’t be so nervous you’re gonna look so sexy” he chuckles, as he takes one of the smaller brushes dusting it with the bright pink, and your eyes flutter close as he applies the eyeshadow so gently to your eyelids, you barely even feel it, his hand occasionally brushes against your cheek as he continues to use the bright colour.

“I’m not hurting you right?” He asks so softly, and you can feel his breath fanning against your skin.

“No baby you’re alright” you whisper back, eyes still closed as he makes a joke about switching job professions, ‘government agent turned beautician’ and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you.

There’s a comfortable silence that settles between you both, and the only thing you can hear is the soft music that plays from your speaker.

Your eyes open as Leon cups your jaw, “I’m not doing a very good job” he chuckles, admiring your face and he can’t believe you’re still so beautiful even if he's doing a terrible job, he presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before going back to dresser picking up eyeliner with a confusing look.

He removes the cap, his eyebrows rising with shock, “What is this?” He asks, looking back over at you.

“Eyeliner” you smile, and it only confuses him more.

He study’s the product trying to make a guess on how you use it, “It goes on your eyes?- How do I?” he trails off manoeuvring his hand to try and figure out how to apply it, he stares at the brush tip with a very baffled expression.

You explain it to him, giggling at his horrified look he leans into you with hesitation and it makes you a little nervous, “Just be careful, don’t take my eye out” you tell him and he nods with a nervous chuckle and it definitely doesn’t make you confident.

His hand leans against your cheek, as he ever so gently drags the brush tip along your eyelid and he winces at how messy the line is, “Don’t open your eyes” he whispers as he does the same to your other eye, and it’s considerably worse than the other.

He pulls back laughing at how wobbly the line is, and it definitely doesn’t look the same when you do it, “Am I still pretty?” You smile looking up at him.

“You’re always pretty, the prettiest girl in the world,” he tells with a loving tone, handing you the mirror with a teasing ‘Ta-da’ and he chuckles at the boisterous laugh that erupts from you.

“Woah baby, it's a good attempt” you giggle, studying the awful job he’s done.

Leon looks down at you, how your eyes crinkle with joy and a loving feeling blooms in between his rib cage and it makes his heart flutter with adoration, the sweet sound of your laughter could brighten his day without fail always.

He picks up the makeup wipes taking one out, “Come here pretty angel” he says, wiping away the makeup gently, he knows how to do this part as he thinks back to the times when you were too drunk to do it yourself, and the cool sensation washes you with relief.

He wipes the makeup until your face is completely clean, and his big hands cup either side of your face making you look up at him, “My beautiful girl” he smiles leaning down the press a kiss to your lips.

You smile against him suddenly feeling awfully bashful, “Are you, hungry baby?” he asks, and you watch as he cleans up the space.

“Mhm, you wanna make pizza?” You ask, and he nods putting away the makeup products back to their rightful place before you both make your way to the kitchen.

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motzgurke · 1 year

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Hi! I love your writing!! 💕💕💕 I read some of the prompts you posted and I was wondering if you could write Leon and s/o falling asleep in each others arms after the events of RE4? I feel like it’s such a cute prompt! Thank you and have a great day!! 💕

hello lovebug! i umm... i did this. okay ily

(yes there will be a part 2)

Stay - Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader

Warnings: NSFW content, mentions of violence

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After the events of dealing with Los Illuminados, you find yourself at your now-boyfriend's apartment, anxious, and needing to relax. And sleep.

“Remind me again how we got here?”

Finally, the clouds had parted. The storm had passed, and you’d found yourself in your- boyfriend? Your… Leon’s apartment.

It was closest to the DSO base you’d just landed at barely even an hour before, the flight from rural Spain a blur in your memory. When you landed, a bag was pressed into your hands from your wonderful friend, Hunnigan, who had already known that you’d probably end up at Leon’s apartment. It was heaven-sent, her good graces.

Thankfully, Hunnigan had a spare key to your own apartment, and had greeted you at the landing strip with your own duffel bag filled with your spare phone, as your other had been crushed by a frenzied Ganado, as well as pajamas, clothes to change into after a well-deserved shower.

Mission debriefings were… tough. There wasn’t a need to complete your reports today. There was enough within comms records and evidence brought back from Spain to reduce the need of a written record, anyways.

Even tougher was the heavy weight that traumatic events left on an agent’s shoulders.

Your mission was simple: infiltrate the same rural village to find Agent Kennedy, report the status back to the DSO through comms, and assist with the extraction of the president’s daughter, Ashley. You were backup. Leon hadn’t expected it, of course, but he was happy for the support.

“Someone who’s actually combat trained? Thank god, I was thinking I’d have to put a gun in the girl’s hands,” He’d joked, the blackened veins of infection from the Plagas on display he smirked. What’d happened in Spain was… something you intended to try to erase from your memory.

Perhaps you could replace it with the situation at hand.

“I’m not really sure,” you responded to Leon’s earlier question. His wrist had trembled slightly while unlocking the door to his home, something you knew was simple exhaustion symptoms.

You also weren’t sure that you’d ever be able to see each other the same way again. The way you knew each other, before… the infection. The Plagas. The darkened veins, Leon’s red irises gazing into your own.

The blood vessels on your neck darkened underneath your skin easily when you were infected. From experience, the related bloodlust brought you together with the older agent, a plush, ancient bedroom in a castle being proof enough that the plague brought out some of the most primal instincts that a trained human could hold.

Leon set down his own bag on the kitchen counter, before returning to where you stood in the doorway, your back leaned against the door. “Let me take this,”

Strong hands lifted the duffel bag from your shoulder, helping you peel the dirt-covered jacket from your shoulders as well. Leon continued, “We’re safe now. Doors and windows are locked. I’ll run the bath for you, okay?”

How was he still being so kind to you?

Could it really have been less than 12 hours since the Plagas virus was removed from your immune system?

It had been less than a day since you’d lapped at the vein that protruded just slightly through the skin right underneath Leon’s jaw.

Now that your jacket was off, you could look down at your arms and see bruises around your wrists, dark, in the shape of what you knew was from a strong grip.

Before leaving you, Leon sat down on the bench in his entryway, undoing the laces on his nearly-ruined boots. He patted the spot next to him, as you mindlessly took the space next to him, doing the same. It was as if everything was going in slow motion- you felt like you needed to pay attention to every single thing possible, like you didn’t know what was around the corner.

Self defense. You were dealing with the aftershocks from being in what was basically a battlefield- an island filled with people trying to kill you, and a virus that pulled a love confession from your lips.

You left your boots on the floor, wrinkling your nose at the dirt that remained underneath them.

“I’m not sure that I’m super great at.. Existing right now,” you told Leon, who nodded his head, rising to lead you through his apartment. Without the mental capacity to admire the space, your mind really only focused on the back of the man who had saved you, that you had saved, dozens of times now. He was safe. Leon would protect you now, and you could protect him.

Your short walk ended inside of a bathroom, white tiled, a large counter space, with a bathtub separate from the shower. There were gray and black towels hung, looking impossibly soft. As you gazed around the room, the sound of running water and Leon’s hand on your shoulder pulled you from the haze.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s alright. I’m going to let you take a bath, okay? It would be easier than a shower, I thought..” He trailed off. Leon had set the bag with your things in it on the counter, your jacket still in his hands.

Right. A bath would be easier than a shower, because of the soreness you still felt, well, everywhere. Between your thighs. Now that you think of it, everything hurts a little bit.

“Okay,” You said, nodding your head. Just a bath- wash off the grime, and change into soft pajamas. It’d be nice to brush your teeth and wash your face.

Leon smiled softly, turning on his heel to leave the room.

Not before a panic seized your chest, and you reached out to catch his wrist- you couldn’t do it alone, could you? What if there was someone waiting until Leon left the room to find you?

He turned to you, a confused look in his kind blue eyes. “What is it? Are you-”

“Please,” you breathed, before pulling yourself closer to Leon’s shoulder, nearly hiding in him, “Don’t go.”

If he left you now, would he come back? A part of you knew it was paranoia, anxiety. The hot water running into the large bathtub was steaming, slowly starting to fill the room.

Reaching his free hand to your waist, your jacket was forgotten on the floor, the door pushed closed and locked. Leon used both hands to lift you up onto the bathroom counter, standing between your legs to look up into your eyes.

Maybe you weren’t used to seeing him this close without the red tint to his irises. The Plagas had changed something between you two. Leon kissed your cheek, running his touch up and down your thighs, soothing you. “I’m not going anywhere, angel.”

You were so tired. Surely he was, as well. An idea sounded itself in your mind, as you ran a hand through Leon’s soft hair.

“I’m so tired, Leon,” the whine came through your lips, and Leon’s grip on your thighs tightened. “Help me?”

If you were more mentally stable, you would’ve been able to see this man’s mind literally short circuit. He nodded, slowly, and reached up to the button of your pants, before pressing his lips to yours.

Leon’s lips were always so soft. Your skin burned with need- not unlike the way you had felt last night, but today wouldn’t be the same. Neither of you had enough energy for that, not when you knew about the dozens of bruises and love bites underneath the clothing that Leon was beginning to pull off of your skin.

Before you knew it, you had the blue fabric of Leon’s shirt between your fingers, pulling it up and over his head, only stopping your kiss for the moment needed. Into your ear, Leon whispered, “Lift your hips, baby.”

In one swipe, Leon had pulled your tactical pants and underwear down and off of your legs, his thumbs hooking to the ankle of your socks, leaving you bare from the waist down. He smirked into the ongoing kiss. Making out with Agent Kennedy- not what you expected to come from the confidential mission that you’d been sent on.

“That’s unfair,” You hissed at the cold counter underneath your skin. Purple, splotchy spots of skin greeted Leon’s eyes as you broke apart, his hands running over your thighs again. He squeezed gently at the supple skin, as if he were admiring his handiwork.

“How is it unfair, sweetheart? You just want me in the tub with you, isn’t that right?” Leon teased, as you fumbled with his belt, pulling it off and onto the tiles of the bathroom floor. His calloused hands were underneath your shirt now, undoing your bra in one swift motion, pulling your top off and over your head, before pulling the straps of your already undone bra down your arms.

Now you were fully uncovered- the button to Leon’s pants undone, you slid down the countertop and onto your knees, slightly wincing at the bruising on your knees.

If you could have a photo of the way Leon looked down at you now, you’d have it in a heartbeat. Your fingers were underneath the waistband of his underwear now, the boxers themselves a dark blue. With a lick over your lips, you stared into Leon’s eyes as you slowly pulled the fabric down, mimicking his own previous actions.

Before you could admire your own work- and the parts of Leon you were eager to see again, he was pulling you up from the floor, kicking off the rest of his clothes, setting you on the counter again. “Not now, baby. D’you always get this eager when you’re sleepy?”

His question made you giggle, resting one of your hands at his waist, the bare skin feeling like heaven underneath your own.

Leon led you to the bathtub, turning the running water off, before lifting you in his arms again, stepping into the bubble-filled water with you. He lowered you and himself into the hot water, soft moans of relief falling from both of your lips at the sensation. Once you were in the tub together, Leon pulled you to him, his back leaned against one end of the tub, settling you between his legs, your back resting against his chest.

The water was already turning a rusty color, but the soothing heat paired with Leon’s strong heartbeat and hold on you just made you so… sleepy.

You drifted off then and there, in the safest place in the world.

“Sweetheart, it’s bedtime, okay?” A low voice pulled you from the nothingness that was slumber.

Opening your eyes, you realized that Leon had you held in his arms again, wrapped in a fluffy towel, the bath drained behind you. “Hi, Leon,” you mumbled, reaching up to rub sleep from your eyes.

There was quite literally no way that Leon’s gaze could have been softer at this moment. His heart hurt. You’d stolen his heart. That was for sure.

“Hey there, sleepyhead. Do you want to change into pajamas and brush your teeth? I’m gonna do the same thing.” He asked, gently lowering you into standing on the white tiles of the floor.

Your eyes darted to the door again, and back to Leon. He watched you intently, before saying, “That’s my bedroom, remember? I’ll be a second away.”

That was reassuring. Nodding, Leon pressed a kiss to your forehead, before leaving you in the comfortably humid room.

You were just in time to have your favorite pair of sleep clothes on and your teeth (and hair!) brushed, to Leon coming back in the bathroom, wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. Your eyes brushed over the similar purple splotches that covered his neck and chest, slightly in disbelief at everything that was currently happening.

“Thank you,” came the words from your lips. Leon tilted his head.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything- you wanna wait in bed for me? I’ll be right there.” The blond smiled with his words, and your feet padded against the floor into the bedroom, a gray, comfy looking bed greeting you. Part of the covers had been pulled back, your phone plugged into a charger on the nightstand next to the pillows.

After crawling into what was decidedly the comfiest bed you’d ever had the pleasure of laying on, you might not have remembered Leon coming to join you.

Rays of sunshine greeted you, instead, through the blinds against the windows.

Leon held you, his chest to your back, one arm around your waist, and the other resting where his hand was cupping your chest. The scent of his shampoo and laundry detergent soothed your mind as you let yourself fall back asleep in his embrace.

You’d certainly earned the hours of sleeping in.

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motzgurke · 1 year

Photo

Resident Evil my beloved. Leon!!

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motzgurke · 1 year

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can i request leon x reader where he comes back from his mission in spain, and reader takes care of his wounds and does his skincare in order to help him relax? (maybe leon falling asleep with his head on reader's lap?) our poor little angel had been through so much back then

i love your writings btww, you give such a nice comforting atmosphere to everything you write. keep up the good work!!!🥹🥹🤍

Home is with you

{Leon comes home to you}

Thank you sm lovely!! Hope you enjoy! 💕

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Leon hates this part of returning home, the weird feeling of detachment, it’s like emotional whiplash and there's still adrenaline that lingers in his bones leaving him on high alert, and every tiny noise in the house is suddenly a threat.

He’s quiet, still trying to digest the events he’s not long gone through, still fresh in his mind, as he tries his best to separate himself from his work, a front he has to put on to lessen the pain he’s just endured.

You look over at him, he’s sitting at the end of the bed shirtless with a first aid kit in front of him, “Here let me help” you say shuffling to sit behind him.

You study the purple and blue of his bruises that bloom under his skin, the grazes and cuts that drag along his back, it’s a painful sight that leaves a blocky feeling in the back of your throat.

“You don’t have to sweetheart” he whispers, his voice so quiet that you almost miss it.

You press a gentle kiss to his shoulder making sure to be careful of his wounds, and Leon wants nothing more than to wrap himself in your warmth, “I want to, I'll be careful” You smile and he doesn’t reply, he can’t find the energy to so instead he hands you the first aid kit.

You’re as careful as you can be, cleaning the blood from the small cut that travels along his upper back, and he hisses through his teeth at the stinging sensation as you clean his wound.

“I didn’t think I’d make it back,” he says taking a deep breath as you continue to attend to his cuts, “I was scared of leaving you alone, didn’t want you to go through that” he tries to hold back the tears that build up in his eyes, he wasn’t scared of dying, it came with the job, but the thought leaving you alone scared him more than anything.

You don’t know what to say, through everything he’s been through he was still thinking of you, his biggest strength yet biggest weakness.

“You’re home now, safe, and that’s all that matters,” you say, shifting to sit in front of him, your hand cups his cheek and love blooms within his chest, a warm feeling, you’re my home, he thinks basking in the softest of your hand against his skin.

He nods, his eyes trailing over your face, and his head falls to your shoulder with a sigh, you can’t even begin to imagine how tired he must be and you know these first couple of weeks are going to be hard, the harrowing adjustment he has to make.

You play with the ends of his hair that sit against his neck as he cries into your shirt, the fabric dampening slightly, he doesn’t know what he’d do without you.

"You're going to be okay Leon, I promise we'll get through this together" you swear to him as his arms slightly tighten around you, he never wants to let you go.

You let him cry onto your shoulder, your fingers gently weaving through his hair hoping it might bring him some comfort, as he sits there replaying the events in his head over and over again, and questions of 'what if' invade his thoughts.

You stay like that until his crying comes to a steady stop, and he regains control of his slightly erratic breathing.

“Let me go get something real quick” you whisper and he sits up, your hand brushing his hair away from his eyes, noticing his teary eyelashes, “I’ll be quick,” you say pressing a kiss to his forehead he nods watching as you walk into the bathroom, gathering some moisturiser.

He smiles when you walk back into the bedroom, noticing the lotion, it’s the one you always use, it's light not too heavy and smells just like you.

"You're spoiling me" he chuckles, and you're so glad to hear the sweet noise escape him.

"You deserve it, and much more," you tell him with a loving smile.

He watches as you sit back down on the bed, crossed-legged in front of him, you open the small tub before collecting some of the product on your fingers, “It’s a little cold” you warn him as you apply the cream gently to his cheek, fingers smoothing over his face.

His eyes close as you continue to apply the cream, “I missed you so much” he whispers, your thumb grazing against his cheek as you lean into him pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

You gently massage the face cream into his skin, careful of the bruise that blooms on his jaw, and you notice the beauty mark that sits beside his nose, so stupidly handsome.

“I missed you too, so so much,” you tell him, leaning into him as you steal his supple lips into a loving kiss, and the feeling grounds him, he's finally home.

You put away the small face cream tub before laying back against the headboard of the bed, patting your thighs, "Come here" you whisper as he lays his head down against them, your hands running through his hair.

He doesn’t want to sleep, he fears what might wait for him, scared that when he wakes up you’ll be gone, but you can see how tired he is, the exhaustion that settles within his eyes.

“Sleep baby, I’ll still be here when you wake up I promise,” you tell him and he believes you, as you drape the knitted throw blanket over his shoulders, he allows himself to drift off into a dreamless sleep because you make him feel so safe.

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