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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 months ago

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Laswell and Nik watch Price play a Rugby match. Part 2.

cw: brief mention of injury, hand job right at the end.

Look, I just love the idea that Nik, Laswell and Price are good friends outside of work. I want to write more of it. All my work is self-indulgent but this is PURE self indulgence.

The plastic chairs were damn uncomfortable and Laswell was pretty sure she could have managed an extra pair of socks inside her boots, but the atmosphere was contagious. Jubilant, loud; people stamping their feet and blowing on their hands in the cold, old comrades meeting again after a long time, families gathered to see fathers, sons, husbands, play.

Plus, she had promised, hadn't she? And seeing her long term friend do something that didn't have the threat of a bullet mixed in was an opportunity she felt she deserved as much as he did.

"Here, Laswell."

A plastic cup of beer appeared in front of her face between the large fingers and thumb of her companion for the day, and she took it in two gloved hands. "Thanks, Nik."

"It tastes very bad," he informed her as he swung his leg over the chair next to her and fell into it heavily, taking a swig of his own with a grimace. "Da. Like barman pissed into a cup."

"Really selling it to me," she chuckled before taking a sip, nose wrinkling. "That is... quite the aftertaste."

Nik shrugged. "It is all part of the experience, and," he ferreted through his jacket, lifting his ass off the seat, and pulled out his hip flask, "ha." He offered it to her first, to which she shook her head, before he unscrewed the cap with his thumb and dumped a generous helping into the top of his drink. "How long?"

"They headed in from their warm up about ten minutes ago."

"Ah, he looked good, no?"

Laswell nodded, her eyes crinkling with her smile as she noted the blush of pride on Nik's face. John Price had, indeed, looked good. He had been rosie-cheeked and energetic through all the drills despite the cold, keeping up with the younger members of his team without any apparent issue.

And, perhaps most importantly of all, he had been laughing and grinning throughout, exchanging banter, and pausing to talk with someone he recognised in the stands, only ending the conversation with a handshake and bump of the shoulders when his coach - a Major something or other, according to the introductory leaflet - bellowed at him.

It was John's boyish glee that had caught Nik's attention more than all the tight woven shorts around thick thighs, the bulging biceps and full chests stretching through Underarmour base layers, and she had watched his eyes blow wide as he fidgeted in his seat, desperate clearly to be closer and bask in John's happiness rather than observe it from afar. She'd sent him for the beer to cool off.

It was an interservice friendly. Navy versus army. A pre-season warm up before the international competition began and the British armed forces would field a composite team of the very best. "Will they win this one?" Laswell asked, chancing another sip of beer and regretting it the moment it touched her tongue.

"Da. The Navy have uh, what to say, fast backs, but their forwards have bad... set pieces."

"Did you understand a word of what you just said?"

"Nyet." Nik grinned. He loved listening to John talk about the game and absorbed every iota of information he could to share in that passion. That didn't mean he was any better than Laswell in understanding what the hell was going on.

"Do you think he'll be selected for the internationals?"

"He has already been asked for his availability."

"Of course he has. Annoyingly, I don't think I've ever encountered an activity that John Price doesn't excel at."

Nik huffed a laugh. "He is an overachiever. Although, not such a good cook. I have never seen someone turn custard into rubber before."

"Aha! A weakness. I will store it for later use."

They lapsed into a momentary pause and watched the crowd find their seats. Nik checked his phone, and then nudged Laswell for a selfie to send to John. They toasted their crappy beers and Laswell conjured her cheesiest grin with a thumbs up. Nik sent it without filters, because he was brutal like that.

Nik (10.15): [image.jpeg]

JP (10.17): good-looking pair of muppets 👍

Nik (10.18): are you feeling ok?

JP (10:19): hammies tight but physio happy.

Nik (10:19): I will help with that later

JP (10:20): countin on it 👌💦😜

"You better not be sexting while I am right next to you, Nikolai."

Nik smirked at her and shook his head once. "He is fine. Nervous."

"You got 'nervous' from that?"

"Da."

"Nervous for a Rugby match but doesn't even bat an eye at leaping from a Hercules into an active firefight with a single page's worth of intel..."

"He feels out of practice. He missed the start of the tournament due to work."

"Ah. Story of our lives, Nik." They missed so much living due to work. Kate had missed the birth of both of her nephews, her brother-in-law's wedding, her sister's fortieth birthday party. So many big life events that would never repeat. But that's what made things like this special. It may be a forces match, but John was choosing to do it. He enjoyed it. Sharing in that enjoyment, that moment of happiness, that was special too.

"They are coming," Nik said like an excited boy on Christmas morning, having spotted the players at the mouth of the changing rooms. He stood with the rest of the crowd and Laswell rolled to her feet too, joining in the cheers and clapping as two lines of outrageously built men jogged out onto the pitch.

Nik and Laswell stood in respectful silence as the band played through the national anthem and the two teams lined up to bray along with it, hands on chests. The British national anthem was a damn drone, but at least it allowed everyone to pull it off. They sat down after the applause, when the two captains met with the referee in the middle of the pitch for the coin toss.

John tried to make the glance into the stands discreet, but the smile when he spotted Nik and Laswell - due to Nik's not so discreet full-armed wave - was difficult to hide. Hands on his hips, he looked down, scuffing the grass with his boot bashfully before turning to listen to the referee outline his expectations.

Sometimes she forgot about the sixteen year age gap between them; he was so brilliant at it all, so driven, so focused and relentless, he was her peer and her equal, but she had already been at the game for twelve years when he enlisted at 16. Whatever she felt in that moment at seeing John so pleased by their presence, his cheeks dimpling in that full-hearted grin he had, felt annoyingly maternal. She necked some beer.

Nik leaned in. "He will choose to receive."

"Mhm."

"Laswell," Nik said, feigning shock as she hid her smirk against her plastic pint.

The navy took the ball with them, the ref jogged backward with his hand in the air, and the two teams lined up. John was the 'fly half', which Kate understood to mean he was the decision maker of the team. It required effective leadership and communication to connect the forwards with the backline and navigate the enemy defence. The perfect role for one Captain Jonathan Price if ever there was one. Which explained the bright yellow captain's band wrapped around his bicep, clashing with the green and white jersey with its big number 10 on the back.

A single peep of the whistle marked the start of the game and the navy's number 10 put their boot to the ball, the rest of the team surging down the pitch behind it. One of the backline received the ball and immediately shipped it out towards the wings to begin making progress in the opposite direction.

The difference between American football and Rugby had always struck Laswell; the ball was the same-ish shape, there were set pieces for different scenarios, but that's where the similarity ended. Rugby was about keeping play moving. It was a relentless, brutal battle down the pitch, with hits that made her teeth shake and no padding between bodies and the impact.

The navy was playing aggressively, forcing the army's backline to reset. Every time the army's scrum half dug the ball out of the breakdown - which was what Laswell understood the huge pile of bodies on the floor to be called - John was there to receive it. He was agile, twisting, turning, everywhere at once; a testament to his own hard work to maintain his fitness and mobility.

One of the navy forwards was too slow off the mark and slammed into John once he'd passed the ball, bringing him to the ground hard with a shoulder to the gut. Nik was halfway out of his chair on instinct, and Laswell reached out a hand for his forearm. "It's part of the game, Nik. An honest mistake." The ref blew the whistle. Free kick.

John rolled to his feet, tugging the legs of his shorts down from the creases of his thighs before plucking the ball from the ground. He chose to kick into touch and gathered his team before the lineout. They hunkered down, listening intently. Laswell could hear his voice in her mind, imagined his tone, and when she glanced off to Nik and saw the look on his face, she knew he was doing the same.

John set the backline, barking over his shoulder and gesturing with his arm to get them in position, once he was happy, he indicated to the scrum half to take the throw in. The ball sailed over the heads of the two lines and found the hands of the army's flanker, who knocked it with practised ease into John's waiting palms. It sailed down the line quick, John sprinting behind the line. The navy thought they were going for a try at the wing and sent their players down to meet it. John cut in halfway and took the ball through a gap created by their miscalculation.

The hulking opposition forwards couldn't catch him once he had the space to open up with long strides, and he pushed one optimistic player off him like he was nothing. Laswell heard Nik breathe something in Russian, leaning forward in his chair, only to leap up the moment that ball touched the try line. She stood with him to clap and he threw an arm around her shoulder jubilantly. "He is so good, did you see? Like a jet, I cannot--" she missed the rest, because he was too busy celebrating, half his beer splashing onto the ground.

An orange five appeared on the scoreboard at first, and then John turned it into a seven when he kicked the ball over the middle bar between the two posts. "A conversion, Laswell," Nik informed her, toasting the scoreboard as it ticked up.

John's try seemed to turn the tables. Now that the army's side had seen the defence clinically dissected, it was like they were more confident in picking those holes. Seven turned to fourteen, fourteen to twenty-one. The navy managed to land a try shortly before half time but their fly half, John's junior by about fifteen years, missed the conversion kick, leaving the scoreboard at twenty-one to five.

Nik topped up their drinks while the two teams disappeared off the pitch, and returned with a flushed face after a suspiciously long time away. "You snuck into the changing rooms, didn't you?" She asked as she took the beer.

"Da," Nik confessed, shifting in his seat. "I did not stay long. He had a briefing to do."

"Of course he did," Laswell said, chuckling. No doubt Nik had gone to admire John in his kit up close; all that clinging lycra and polyester around John's frame. For a man, John had one hell of an ass. She was surprised Nik wasn't foaming at the mouth every time John bent over to receive the ball from the breakdown.

The second half started shortly after Nik's return. The army started with the ball this time, kicking it into the second half and chasing after it to shut down the offence before they could make ground.

The navy had apparently had what John would call a bollocking, because they were back to their form of the first twenty minutes, hitting hard and punishing gaps. Nik frowned as John was tackled for the third time in ten minutes. "They are targeting him," he growled.

"Oh yeah," a man to their left chimed in, "reckon their skipper told 'em to break that one's legs."

"Nik, it's trash talk," Laswell warned as the big Russian suddenly coiled with tension. "They will try to close down any advantages. He's one of them."

She, perhaps, spoke too soon, because the next hit made John stay down a bit longer, and he disappeared under a pile of bodies that dwarfed even him. When he finally got to his feet, there was blood streaming from his eyebrow. The ref blew his whistle and pointed at John's face, then the sidelines. He didn't even argue his case, chucking his armband to the scrum half's hand before jogging over to the medic, replaced by a sub.

Nik had been on his feet throughout, and now tracked John to the sidelines with his eyes, no doubt scrutinising his gait for abnormality. "It is superficial," Nik said, perhaps convincing himself not to vault the stands. "He will go back on."

"After being kicked in the head?"

Nik frowned, arms folded over his chest. He wasn't happy about it either.

As predicted, John returned to the pitch at the next blow of the whistle, his head wrapped in bandages and tape. The army had put up a valiant defence while he'd been off, and did so for the rest of the game, allowing only one more try to sneak through and returning it threefold. The final score at the end was forty-two to twelve in favour of the army, and the boisterous celebrations on the pitch carried on through the sportsmanlike cheers exchanged by both teams, followed by handshakes and cheers for the ref.

Nik and Laswell picked their way through the stands to the main bar to wait for John to emerge from the changing rooms. Another thing she quite liked about this sport in particular was that the players cleaned up in shirts and ties before they were allowed out. She had thought it was a services thing, a hang up about order and respectability, but no, they even observed the rule at club level. It was about respecting the clubhouse, the fans, the game and each other.

It took John about thirty minutes to arrive, his white shirt and green tie neatly pressed, wool trousers belted at his waist. Nik was on him in seconds, one hand taking his jaw, tilting his head left and right, to inspect the cut through his eyebrow. "Nik," John said through a soft laugh, "s'olright, been checked over."

"For concussion?"

"Yeah. Just a stud scrape. Nothin' dramatic."

Nik's hand slipped around the back of John's neck and Laswell could see the desperate desire to kiss his partner flash over his face, but in the end he only nodded and drew away. She sighed. So much had changed, and yet so much stayed the same.

"Kate, you made it," John said, that Quokka-smile in place and big arms enclosed her in a hug.

"Oh, I was in the area." She returned the embrace and then pushed the pint of bitter into his hands. "Well-earned, I think."

"Huh, yeah, 'm fuckin' knackered," he admitted, wiping the foam from his moustache after he took a sip. "A few of the lads want to do a crawl through the local bars, but I'm gonna turn in. Monday's chocka."

"I don't blame you," Laswell said, hopping onto a stool. "I thought you'd play soccer, you know."

"Rugby is a gentleman's sport and the captain is a gentleman." Nik sat next to her, his elbows on the bar. "Soccer is for thugs and idiots, no?"

"Hoohoo, shit, don't let Simon hear you say that, Nik," John said, leaning his hip against the bar at Nik's side. "You'd have to sleep with one eye open."

"So, the Liverpool scarf is just for show." Laswell recalled the tattered old thing hanging up in a frame in John's office. It sat right next to his medals of valour and a photograph of the 141 in Belgrade.

"Naw, once a Red always a Red."

"That means something very different where I am from," Nik said lightly.

Laswell chuckled low in her throat and John threw his arm around Nik's shoulder for a squeeze. They stayed until the man of the match was announced and, unsurprisingly, John had been selected by the team for his try.

He received the award in the same understated way he did his medals; a thank you to his team and to the panel, then 'all the best' before heading back to his drink. Once again Laswell watched Nik swallow the desire to demonstrate the affection bubbling beneath his skin. She was glad for Nik that John would require plenty of care this evening; an opportunity to dote to his heart's content.

Despite the generally positive experience, she was glad to flop into the backseat of Nik's hired Audi, watching the streets of London flit by as they left the pitch behind. By the time they dropped her off at the hotel, John was struggling to keep his eyes open, slumped low in the front seat, his arms folded tightly across his chest as if to hold himself together. She exchanged a look with Nik in the rearview mirror, the creases around his eyes betraying his knowing grin. John was clinging on for her benefit. Sweet, but unnecessary.

She opened the door but leaned forward to squeeze his shoulder before stepping out. "Well done today."

"Cheers," he said sleepily, one of his big paws parting over the top of her palm. "Thanks again. 'ppreciate it."

"Any time, John. I enjoyed myself. See you soon."

She patted Nik's shoulder too and he touched her wrist in return, before she left them to head to a well-earned rest in their Premier Inn. Hopefully a kiss too, or Nik might just implode.

Nik managed to convince John into a bath with the promise of a glass of whiskey. Without it, he would be stiffer in the morning and not in a way they could enjoy.

Once John was settled amongst the bubbles, Nik sat at the side with a pillow beneath his rear, one hand in the water to stroke whatever part of John happened to be near, while the other held a novel open against his thigh.

"Thanks for comin' today," John said in the comfortable quiet. His voice was soft, his eyes lidded. He had sunk lower, the waterline lapping at his collarbone.

"Of course. I enjoyed watching you in your element, John."

"It was the... uh, first time someone's come t' see me play."

Nik let the novel fall closed and twisted, resting his chin on the edge of the tub. "Have you not invited the sergeants, or the lieutenant?"

"Ah, they have better things to do 'n come and watch me play rugger at the weekend."

"I think you underestimate how much your team loves and admires you."

John hummed in the way he did when he wanted to argue but knew it was a losing fight. Nik got that noise more and more these days when it came to John's perception of other's opinions of him. He had an accurate and pragmatic understanding of his own abilities when it came to work, but that didn't seem to translate into a sound understanding of how much he was admired. The hum was a step forward towards acceptance, in Nik's opinion.

"You will invite them next time."

"Oh will I?"

"Da. And they will feel honoured by the invitation."

"What if I get my arse kicked? Almost did today."

"Then they will be there to pick you back up again, as they are in the field."

John fell silent, heaving a sigh through his nose. Nik gathered his legs underneath him and slipped his second hand in the water to caress the aching body within it. He ran the backs of his fingers over John's chest, down the valleys of his abdomen to the v-shape dips of his hips, and finally to his thighs.

"How are these?"

"Sore. They'll be fi--mm, Nik...'

"Is good?"

"Mmhm."

Nik rubbed his thumbs in firm circles, feeling knots and tension pop beneath them, and watched John's expression melt back into relaxation. He moved from one leg to the other, working his way up slowly across the large expanse of muscle to John's hip.

"Enjoyin' yerself?" John asked, an eye popping open to study Nik's face.

"Da. Watching your legs today was... hm, it made me want to spread them in the shower and demonstrate my admiration."

If it wasn't for the warm water, John would have flushed, but Nik was content by the shy smile he got instead. "In front of the entire team, eh? Filthy git," John mumbled.

"If you would enjoy others watching me make love to you, then I would consider it."

"Fuckin' 'ell, Nik," John said, scrubbing a hand across his face. His body betrayed him though, because the mere thought of it has caused his prick to harden enough to peak just above the surface. Nik tickled up the inside of John's thighs to his sac, fingertips stroking the heavy weight of it in the warm water. John's knees tilted out to give Nik access and he reached for Nik's chin with one wet hand, guiding him down for a kiss.

Nik kissed greedily as he played gently between John's legs, revelling in the vulnerability of his lover's exhausted body surrendering to the tenderness he offered. His tongue swept into John's mouth, licking the taste of whiskey from his teeth, the tip brushing the ridges of his pallet, sucking his tongue, his lips, before sinking lower to kiss his neck.

John made soft noises of pleasure, his heels skidding across the ceramic of the tub, damp fingers winding into Nik's hair. In the warmth of the water, his skin was soft, sensitive, and Nik knew how to touch him. Had spent many a night learning what made John moan and sigh, how his entire body was a map of erogenous zones desperate for a gentle hand that Nik was more than willing to provide.

When Nik encircled John's prick, stroking slowly back and forth, John let out a pleased sigh. "Fuck, Nik... Dunno whether I have the energy."

"You do not need it. Let me look after you."

"Would prefer t' give as good as I get. Ahh, fuck, Nik..."

Nik soaped his hand using the pump at the side of the bath and returned to John's eager prick. Tired he may be, but his body yearned for Nik as much as Nik's did for him. Nik kept a firm pressure, squeezing a little former on the upstroke, precum splashing over the edge of his fist. "John, you are so beautiful... You are so desperate for me."

"Yeah, Nik, haa, ah, god fuck, I'm close already..."

"Come for me then. Do not hold back. I will have you tomorrow, spread your legs and take what I want..."

"Fuck..."

"I know you wanted me to take you in that changing room, your blood running hot--"

"Ahh, Nik, fu--"

"--I know you wanted to touch yourself in the shower, thinking of me--"

"Mm, yeah, yeah, please, Nik..."

"I know what you need, I know how you ache for it, how you want to be filled by my cock and fucked well."

John latched onto the edge of the tub as he came, his thighs and stomach pulling tight, head pushing back as his cock pulsed in Nik's hand. Nik slowed his stroke, milking out the aftershocks as John gasped.

Nik kissed him lightly on the lips as his pleasure faded to throbbing embers, releasing his softening prick to rinse his hand. "Beautiful."

"Just nutted to dirty talk. Not sure beautiful's really the word."

"You do not see yourself as I do," Nik replied, admiring the brightness in those blue eyes, the ruffled hair, the flush. Beautiful was too empty a word for the majesty of John Price, but it would suffice for now. "Time for bed, John. Come."

Nik helped John out of the bath, teasing him about his shaking legs as he helped dry him with a second towel. John slipped naked into the soft, clean sheets Nik wasn't complaining; it would be easier to tease him open tomorrow morning. He was asleep and snoring softly before Nik had even switched the lamp off, the pillow clutched under his head.

Before Nik could sleep, he worked himself over to a swift and gutless orgasm that would allow him to sleep, knowing full well he would be satisfying himself in John come the morning. He fell asleep admiring the peaceful lines of John's face, eternally grateful he had the honour of calling John his.

#captain john price #cod nikolai #nikprice #kate laswell #writing an american and remembering ass not arse #spoilt writing british pov for cod #i am so hard done by oh woe #yes nik is sober when he drives #but what are they gonna do? take his license away? ahahaha

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dixons-sunshine · 10 months ago

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js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg

can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣

idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml

I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)

Word count: 4.3k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)

—

“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”

Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”

“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”

Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”

“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.

When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”

Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.

Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.

“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”

“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.

“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”

Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.

Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.

“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.

“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”

Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.

The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.

Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.

Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.

“Daryl? Are... you okay?”

Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.

“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.

Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.

Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.

“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”

—

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”

“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”

“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.

“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”

Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”

“Do you know why?”

“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”

“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”

Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”

“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”

Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.

“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”

“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”

The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”

After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.

“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”

“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.

“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.

“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.

“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”

“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.

“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”

You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.

Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”

“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”

“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.

“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”

“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.

“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.

Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”

“Yeah.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”

“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.

“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”

“How many people have you killed?”

You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”

“Why?”

“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”

“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.

“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”

Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”

“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.

“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”

Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.

“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”

“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”

“No luck?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”

“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”

“I really hope so.”

—

“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”

“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”

“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”

“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”

Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.

Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.

“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.

Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”

“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”

“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”

“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”

“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”

“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.

Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”

Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Great.”

With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.

“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.

Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”

“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.

“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”

Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”

“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”

“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.

“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”

Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.

You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.

“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”

You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.

The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.

Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”

You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”

“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”

“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”

“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.

Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.

Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”

Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.

“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.

“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.

You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.

“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”

“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”

Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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pinkerthings · 10 months ago

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the significance of mileven simply not understanding each other (pt 1):

(others have brought this up before but I think it’s a bit overlooked imo)

There are numerous times throughout Stranger Things where Mileven is shown to not be on the same wavelength, and the Duffers like to make it quite apparent to the general audience.

Starting with the obvious scenes:

“BLANK makes you crazy”

El is literally staring at Mike like she has NO idea what he’s trying to say.

Shes STILL confused even after he tells her it’s something old people tell each other:

Like girl…. i KNOW you were watching them soap operas and old timey romances during that year in Hopper’s cabin. You really expect us to believe you have no clue what he’s trying to say?

This scene was written like this on purpose for two reasons: comedic effect and diving deeper into mileven.

Back to not ever being on the same wavelength:

I talked in this post here about Mike being okay with El standing up to bullies in the past when it came to Mike or Will, but Mike suddenly not understanding when it comes down to El defending herself against Angela, showcasing the idea that they are definitely not in agreeance over what happened at Rink-O-Mania.

The Duffers like to purposefully write Mileven out of step with one another.

It seems as though every season has something negative in store for the couple, and not in a fun, slow-burn agonizing romance type of way, but in the frustrating “why can’t they just work it out” kind of way.

Season 1 obviously has El “dying” and leaving Mike for a year, but on a smaller note also has Mike trying to explain to her that if she moved into his house, Nancy would be like her sister, but he would not be like her brother. She does not understand this, and has her classic confused face on.

Season 2 has her being gone and coming back to see Mike with Max, and even though nothing happened between the two of them, El was still cold to Max when they first met, showing even if El is incapable of knowing what the word “love” is, she still somehow knows what jealousy is.

Season 2 also brings us an interesting scene with Erica and Lucas, where the dialogue just seems….really off and random.

Lucas catches Erica playing with his He-Man action figure and gets mad, taking it from her. To which she says, “Hey! They’re in love!”

Lucas responds with:

The scene is extremely random and the dialogue is just weird to me, the only explanation it being a metaphor for something in the show, and the only viable explanation is Mileven.

Season 3 has the entire “boyfriends lie” side plot, resulting in El dumping Mike for lying to him about his grandmother after Hopper’s talk with him. Their relationship the entirety of season 3 is the epitome of immature pettiness caused by jealous and hormonal teenagers who don’t understand what being in a real relationship entails--

We get El and Max spying on the boys:

Eleven is a mystery to Mike, he pretty much says it himself.

Their whole relationship is based on immaturity, and the audience knows that. The audience can see that the two of are clearly immature and don’t have what it takes to be in a real, committed relationship. That’s the point. Their relationship in season three is almost entirely to move the plot around in whatever way the Duffer’s want, and to showcase the idea that their relationship in screen is nearly always shown in either a comedic, pre-teen immature light, or a jealous, misunderstood, and petty light. There is almost no stable relationship between the two of them in season 3. It’s either too clingy or too toxic or full of lies or immature, blah blah blah. The only scenes of them either not making out or fighting is the last scene of them together right before the Byers move, and that’s a whole scene in itself to unpack!

Season 4 is where things get a little chaotic, as if things weren’t chaotic enough.

There are so many miscommunications and misunderstandings with Mileven this season, but the big ones include:

El feeling like Mike thinks of her as a monster-

and Mike looking at her like she just spoke badly about his favorite Star Wars movie-

Directly after that we have Mike saying El is being "ridiculous" because she's upset that he won't tell her he loves her, and him calling her a superhero, the complete opposite of what she wants to hear in that moment, but Mike doesn't understand that, because who wouldn't want to be called a superhero? (his way of thinking)

Later on we get Mike recounting this to Will, saying, "and if I would have said that thing..." etc.

Mike can't even say that he loves El to other people, and we're expected to believe it's still true?

We also get this:

another misunderstanding on Mileven's part. El thinks Mike doesn't love her (at this point, does he?) so she finishes her letter the same way he has: From, El.

Next we have Will and Mike's conversation on top of the car:

"I think it's just scary to open up like that, to say how you really feel, especially to people you care about the most, because...what if they don't like the truth?"

I've said it before and I'll say it again,

why would El NOT like the truth if the truth is that Mike loves her?

Mike nods at Will's words and looks away, seemingly lost in thought. Why would he agree with Will---that it's hard for him to open up to El because she might not like the truth---if the truth is exactly what she wants to hear?

It literally makes no sense.

We also get the Byler van scene, where Mike compares her to a superhero yet again, something she clearly does not like (I don't have a vid but here's the official script, where he says the same thing):

Also El being Superman and him being Lois Lane in the analogy....okay.

Next we have him calling her a superhero YET AGAIN ! during his monologue:

Like girl if I was El I would just give up at this point. This is the last thing she wants to hear. She doesn't want to be a superhero all the time, she just wants to be a person ! a girlfriend ! a friend ! a daughter ! yet Mike is making it seem like the main reason he loves her is because she's a superhero, which she hates.

And lastly we have:

"Did she...talk to you at all?"

"Not much, I mean...a little bit."

Let me get this straight......you finally confess your love to your longtime girlfriend in the midst of her fighting a literal monster & monster from her past while she is being strangled and held captive all while she's also trying to save her friend from death, and she doesn't say anything to you for TWO days after?

Ladies...the Mileven break up is writing itself, really.

And that is a thread on how the Duffers intentionally write Mileven to be on different wavelengths with each other every single season without fail to showcase how incompatible they really are.

They are setting this relationship up to where you want more for both parties; El deserves to be loved the way she wants to be loved, and Mike deserves to be loved the way he needs to be loved (if u know what i mean)

In part 2 I will discuss the importance of byler understanding each other, juxtaposed to mileven hehe bye !

part 2 analyzing Mike & Will here !

#stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #eleven #stranger things 5 #finn wolfhard #jane hopper #st5 #mike and will

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writebackatya · 15 days ago

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Ducktales (2017) Holiday Headcanons:

It’s that time of the year again, time for me to dump a bunch of random headcanons! All of which relate to the holiday season cause I love this time of year!

Huey holds the record for most homemade Christmas presents given during the holidays thanks to his JWC skills. Webby is second

Louie wishes that homemade gifts were banned in the gift giving circle.

Dewey always hosts his annual Dewey Dew Night Holi-Dew Special in the Foyer in front of the Christmas tree, much to Beakley and Scrooge’s chagrin

Donald always insists on being the one to decorate despite the many accidents and holiday slapstick he gets involved in every year. They say, the amount of Holiday Slapstick Donald has been in could fill the entire ABC Holiday Special line-up

Now that Santa is no longer banned from McDuck Manor, he always stops and says hello the Duck family on his yearly delivery. Scrooge occasionally joins him and sometimes Scrooge’s Christmas ghost friends help out too

Bentina Beakley always makes the best hot chocolate with the right amount of marshmallows

The kids always go sledding with their friends on Killmotor Hill when the snow is perfect for sledding

Della still puts up a couple of traps every year “for old times sake”. The traps then immediately get taken down the very second Donald gets caught in one of them

Webby is the best gift giver

Huey, Dewey, and Louie got their “Picture with Santa” poses nailed

When given gift cards that are $15 or less from relatives, Huey, Dewey, and Louie will sometimes agree to combine their gift cards to buy something they all want

Drake, Launchpad, and Gosalyn are Jewish and all celebrate Hanukkah but one of their yearly traditions is watching The Darkwing Duck Christmas Special because Drake and Launchpad insist on watching it every year

Gandra Dee doesn’t celebrate Christmas, in fact she’s entirely anti-Christmas, but still chooses to celebrate Christmas with Fenton and his m’ma cause it beats being alone

M’ma Cabrera definitely watches a bunch of Hallmark Christmas movies. So do Huey Dewey and Louie. Also Donald. You know what, especially Donald

Donald’s favorite Christmas movie is It’s A Wonderful Life. It gets him emotional and he always breaks down when George Bailey is proclaimed “The Richest Man in Town”

Della’s favorite Christmas movie is Die Hard. It was her favorite pre-Moon, but the whole John McClane going through hell and trying to make things right with his family just hits a little too close to home these days. Also she says she could totally go through what John did

Dewey’s favorite Christmas movie is Home Alone. In fact he has even set-up a few Mccalister style traps in Donald’s boat house before. They weren’t perfect but they still worked on Donald. He was not the intended target.

Huey seems like A Charlie Brown Christmas kinda Duck

Both Donald and Della know it was Dewey who traveled back in time that one Christmas. Only problem is they don’t know what year it was he went back in time. They just assume it must’ve been on Christmas Eve cause that’s when they saw him. So now until Dewey looks a little bit older they will always be sure to greet Dewey with a mysterious “Welcome back” that sounds like it has multiple meanings whenever they see him after not seeing him for at least 5 min. on Christmas Eve. It’s a bit odd for Dewey to experience, ngl

Dewey and a few other family members will visit Launchpad and co. in St. Canard during one of the nights of Hanukkah to celebrate with them

Matilda always goes to Castle McDuck for the holidays

Donald usually sails back to Duckburg for Christmas, but on the years he can’t Della makes it her duty to FaceTime him on Christmas Eve

And now: The Worst Gift Givers of Clan McDuck

5. Louie, he’s a kid so I’ll cut him slack, but he should put more effort in his gifts. But he won’t

4. Goldie. Don’t ask her why the store security tag is still on

3. Gladstone Gander: King of the Last Minute Gifts, he’s lucky enough to get good deals that cost him next-to and sometimes nothing. Unfortunately the quality of gifts are “Acceptable.”

2. Gyro Gearloose. Just seems like someone who sees something and goes “Well that’s fine enough.”

1. Scrooge McDuck. Rich people suck at giving gifts. It’s a commonly known fact

Also this whole post was a ploy to read my holiday theme DuckTales anthology fic that shows some of these headcanons in action. Enjoy!

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maxillness · 5 months ago

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From People You Know, To People You Don’t || MW2 x Piastri!Driver!Reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, Danny being our favourite honey badger, angst, (slight) yearning, age gap, praise kink, self hatred, nipple play, secret relationship

Wordcount: 7.4k

You can read the request here

Some of the timeline don't match the real timeline, but just skip that fact please

Being 21 and in formula one having won both f2 and f3 championships in her first year, her parents were proud of her, as well as her younger brother

She was hyper excited when she got the news that Oscar would be driving for Alpine doing the 2021 season

She loved her brother to death. She always loved karting with him, and always did when they were younger

He always hated it, but only because she always won over him. Always beat him. Besides that, he loved it as much as she did

They always had a close relationship. They told each other everything. From girls and boys, to nasty homework, to what they dreamt of

So how did it change so suddenly for the worse?

A few days after the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix during the 2020 season, she had been at her apartment in Monaco, lazily watching tv as her phone rang

Osc🫶

She picked up the phone, putting it on speaker as she paused the show she was watching

“Ain’t it past your bedtime?” She asked, teasing him as it was only 8 o’clock

“I have news” He said, excitement running through his voice. She waited for him to speak up “I got a contract with Alpine”

“What?” She leant forward, putting her elbows on her knees “You got a contract with Alpine?” She heard a faint hum on the other side “For when? 2022?”

“No, next year” She could hear the excitement in his voice. It was like when they were younger and they would get candy right before bedtime

“Next year? Isn’t that a little late to make a contract?” She asked, confused as why it was this late

“It has been un-going for a while, but I only got the official call today” He explained, hoping she wasn’t mad he hadn’t told her before

“That’s great, Osc. I’m excited to drive with you next year” She said. It was obvious she was smiling as she spoke

“Yeah, and with Logan racing for Williams next year too��” Logan and Oscar was close, she knew that, but as they now were rivals, she was afraid they would fall apart

“Yeah, that’s great, Osc. I’m proud of you”

Being in Qatar at pre-testing was wonderful. The break was finally over, and she had gotten to see her brother again

She sighed as she sat down in the car. She felt great. She felt at home. She missed this. She needed this

She felt bad when a week later she qualified ahead of Oscar. She wanted him to have a good first f1 quali, but he had accepted at this point that she was the better, and more experienced driver, so he didn’t let anything bad about it cross his mind, but only congratulated his sister

She finished ahead of Oscar as well at the race. She felt bad, but on the track, Oscar was nothing more than a rival. Not her friend, not her brother. A rival

It kept going like this. Her finishing ahead, but in qualifying and in the race, him always congratulating her behind hurt eyes

A few races into the season, and she stood in the garage looking over some data, mindlessly looking over it with her manager and mentor, Sebastian Vettel, not noticing Andrea stepping up behind her

“Piastri, can I have a word with you, please?” He asked, putting a hand on her upper back

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?” She seamed concerned, as well did Sebastian

“Not here” He shook his head lightly

She stood up from the chair and following him into an empty part where they could talk in private, not disturbed by anyone

“What is it?” Her voice was shaking slightly, afraid she would be dumped by the season

“I know I shouldn’t say this two days before a race, but better hear it from me than a leak from twitter” He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest

“We’re replacing you as of the 2022 season” She knew it. She knew it would be like this

“Okay… With who?” She expected someone like Lewis, Bottas, anyone than the name he spoke

“Oscar” He sighed, looking down into the ground, avoiding her eyes

“Oscar?” She asked “You’re replacing me with Oscar?” She rose her voice a little, getting frustrated at his words “I’m the better driver of the two of us, and you’re choosing Oscar?”

“Yes. Yes, we are” He still didn’t date to look in her eyes, knowing this was what she lived for

“You’re making a big mistake, Stella” She said before leaving

As she walked back into the garage, a camera was all up in her face which she pushed away without looking into it

“Are you okay?” Sebastian asked as she sat back down beside him

“They’re replacing me with Oscar next year” She sighed, not meeting his eyes as he wanted

“What? Why?” She just shrugged at his words, knowing as much as himself

During the next few races and the days in between, she had gotten all sort of messages asking why she was replaced, how she felt about it, etc.

It wasn’t just from the other drivers, but other team principals, other celebrities, fans, you name it

Her responds was always the same; ‘thank you for your concern, but I know as much as you do’

The Hungarian Grand Prix rolled around, and she was tired. She was tired of all the tweets and online stuff at all

She had a good quali, getting in the second row, again outing her brother. As well as the race

She had gotten p1, which she hadn’t gotten in a while. She felt at home again as she heard her national anthem get played and she looked down to Sebastian who was smiling up at her

She sat at the press conference, feeling her still damp hair soaking through her shirt

She sat at the far left with Lewis beside her, Fernando, Max and Daniel filling the table as well

It was nearing the end. She loved press conferences, but she really just wanted to be back at her hotel room and sleep the night through

“Y/N, how do you feel about McLaren signing Sebastian as Oscar’s Manager for next year as well?” She was utterly confused

“What do you mean? McLaren’s not signing Sebastian for Oscar” She was even more confused when Lewis pulled out his phone and opened twitter

It was McLaren’s official account, stating that Sebastian would be Oscar’s manager for next year. The four other drivers looked over at her, worry in their eyes

She sighed, looking out to the crowd again “I didn’t know about this change, but if it what they believe are best for the team, the there’s nothing I can do than continue the season out and prove to other teams that I deserve a seat next year” She spoke softly and without emotion, but her eyes were glassy and hurt

She loved Sebastian, she wouldn’t be where she was today if it wasn’t for him. She didn’t wanna part with him, but if the team believed that was for the best, then let them be with it

The conference ended and she was sat back in her drivers room. She leaned back into the couch. She was trying so hard to hold back, but a few tears had slipped down her cheeks silently

She quickly wiped them away as she heard a knock on her door “Come in” She sniffled softly as the door opened

It was Mark Webber. She hadn’t really thought about it up until now, but he was as unemployed as she was next year

“Hey. Are you in a mood to talk?” He stood in the doorway, not wanting to pry her if she didn’t want to be in his presence

“Sure. Sit” She moved more to the side, giving him space to his tall figure

He closed the door behind him before walking over to her, sitting down beside her, turning his body to face her slightly

“I’m sorry about all that have happened to you, you don’t deserve it” He said, meeting her now dried eyes

“You’re as unemployed as I am. You shouldn’t be apologising for something you didn’t do” She scoffed, feeling bad he felt like he had to apologise

There was a silence between them “You seriously didn’t know about it?” He asked, leaning in a little closer to her

“Not until Lewis showed me” She chuckled “I haven’t even seen Sebastian since. Though I would have a talk with him, but I think he’s hiding from me” She looked into her hands placed in her lap

“Sounds like him” He said “Avoiding his problems until they become serious enough” He sighed as he spoke “You gotta catch him before he have a chance to scram” He chuckled, Lightning the mood in the room

“This helped. Thank you, Mark” She sighed, smiling up at him, straining her neck a little as she had to look up at him

“Of course” He should leave now, but he didn’t want to “I thought about something” She hummed low

“I’m jobless next year, and if you get a seat next year, which you probably will, I was just thinking-“

“That’s a good idea, Mark” She said, noticing he was rambling out of nervousness as to what she would say to his thought

She was beyond mad. She was fucking pissed. He took her seat, he took her manager and mentor, and her parents had taken his side?

The season had started again after the summer break. She hadn’t talked with Oscar or Sebastian since the conference in Hungary

She couldn’t dare to look either of them in the eye, and she hated that she still had to work with Sebastian

She still loved having him as her manager and mentor, but fuck did she want to pull his head off his body

She needed to talk to Sebastian, as well as her brother, but one talk at a time

“Talk” It wasn’t a question as she pushed Sebastian into an empty corridor of the hospitality

He didn’t look at her as he leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest

“I trusted you, Sebastian” Her voice was hurt, but she kept on a brave face as well as her eyes dried

He didn’t say anything

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He was still quiet “You’ll never get my trust back” She sighed “You know what? You’re an asshole. I lost my seat, and you chose the person who took it from me. That’s a fucking shit move”

She could feel the tears starting to swell in her eyes as well as her fell and raised quicker than normally

“I fucking trusted you” Silence “You don’t even have the heart to apologise” Silence “Everything Mark said about you is true” She walked away from him, wiping a tear that had shed down her cheek

Daniel gave her a questionable look as she walked out. She only nodded softly, taking the hint, he smiled at her

After quali that weekend, she stood behind a stack of unused tyres, typing away on her phone. She was so dazed in her fingers moving that she didn’t t notice anybody walk up behind her

“I’m sorry” She was slightly startled by the familiar voice. She turned around to see the hurt eyes of her younger brother

She sighed as she turned her phone off and put it in her back pocket “Why is it, that the people I trusted the most turned against me? Care to explain?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I thought I was replacing Daniel-“ “Don’t bull crap me, Oscar. You knew, as well that you knew Sebastian is gonna leave me, and you chose not to say shit”

He didn’t say anything, his throat closed “You took my seat, you took my manager and mentor, and our parents are on your side”

“I used to feel bad that you were referred to as my brother and not by your name. Now? I don’t give a shit. I trusted you with my life, Oscar. And I’m gonna say the same thing to you as I did to Sebastian. You’ll never get my trust back”

“I’m sorry” She only scoffed before she walked away, going back to the motorhome

She went through the season barely being able to look eye to eye with Sebastian, and hadn’t even talked with Oscar since she cursed him out

The same week as the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, she had gotten a call from a number she didn’t recognise

“Y/N” She picked it up and put it to her ear

“Hi Y/N, it’s Christian Horner” She was surprised as the two of them really hadn’t talked as much as people would think

“Hi, what can I do for you?” You could hear the surprised tone in her voice as she sat down on the couch

“I was just thinking if you wanted to come over and talk about a potential contract” She could hear his smile trough the phone

“Really? I mean sure. Now or…?” She could scream if she wasn’t on the phone

“Whenever you have time”

The next morning, she had gotten thousands of notifications from twitter as she woke up. She only got to check them when she was driving to the paddock

They were all about her being spotted shaking hands with Christian outside of the Red Bulls motorhome

Everybody was saying the same thing in one way or the other ‘Is Y/N getting a seat for next year?’ ‘Is Y/N replacing Checo for the 2022 season?’

She had seen and liked to a lot of them, but no way in hell could she do it to all of them as there were too many to even show in her inbox

“I feel bad I can’t tell them anything” She sighed talking to Daniel who was seated beside her

“You’re going to get that seat, and then you can tell the world” Daniel has always been nice to her. She liked him, he was a good friend

“Thank you, Danny” She smiled, getting one back in return “Thank you for not saying anything”

“Can’t tell them things I don’t know about, can I?” Talking to the fellow Aussie was something she looked forward to lately

In that moment her phone rang

Christian Horner

“Speaking of the devil. Y/N” She put her phone up to her ear, looking out of the window to her right as she did

“Hey, Y/N. Great news. The seat is yours if you sign the contract today” She immediately looked to her side to Daniel with a big smile

“I’ll be there as quick as I can. I’m almost there” She heard a faint ‘good’ on the other side “And about my request?”

“Mark is free to join us as well if he’s ready to come back here” She couldn’t contain her smile

“Thank you so much, Christian. I will make sure he knows. Thank you” She hung up the phone and turned to Daniel

“If I sign today, the seat’s mine” Her smile was as wide as Daniel’s normally was, if not wider

“That’s great” He pulled her into a tight hug, slightly difficult by the seatbelts they were wearing, but it didn’t matter in the moment

“You deserve the seat more than anyone” He hugged her a little tighter before letting her go, his hands still on her upper arms

“Thank you. You really are the greatest” He let go of her arms as she reminded to make a phone call

She scrolled through her call list, finding the one labeled with Mark’s name. She heard the phone ring through a few times before he picked up

“Hey, mate. What can I help you with?” She liked the way he called her ‘mate’. It was like a sweet thing that was between the two of them

“Hey, I got two great news” She said, stepping out of the car as they arrived “First of all; I got the seat for next year, I just need to sign the contract”

“That’s awesome” She heard the smile in his thick accent “The other?”

“Second of all; you’re going with me” She had stopped outside of the Red Bull motorhome, before going to her own

“Seriously? Christian agreed on that?” He scoffed, sounding surprised in some way

“In my opinion, I think he misses you” She felt good that she had made him laugh on the other end. She liked that she could do that

“I’m not so sure, but thank you for telling me before I saw it somewhere else” She sighed as he spoke “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out that way”

“No, it’s fine. Look, I gotta go, but I’ll see you, yeah?” “Of course, see you” She hung up before she headed into the Red Bull motorhome

As she walked into and out of the motorhome, she got glances from all the staff that was there. She did look out of place in her papaya shirt, but it surly wouldn’t be that

She walked into her own motorhome. She had a big smile on her lips as she greeted people in her way

By the look on Andrea’s face, she figured he had already heard about her new contract, as well as Zak that was stood beside him

She ignored than as Daniel walked over to her, hugging her again, as tight as he did in the car before

She was excited for the race, not only because she made first row in quali at p2 beside Verstappen, but because it was Abu Dhabi

If she had to choose a favourite Grand Prix, it would probably be Abu Dhabi. Even if she knew there was no way in hell she would win the championship with the amount of points Max had in his books

It was more likely Lewis was going to win the championship as he was tied with Verstappen on the points

She had finished in p3 that day with Lewis in p2 and Max p1. They all three were soaked in champagne as they got off the podium

“Congrats on the championship” She said as she shook hands with Max

“Thank you. Heard about your seat next year. It’ll be good to be working with you” He said, his slight lisp working on his tongue

They turned towards Lewis as he walked up to them “Congrats to the both of you” He said, putting a hand on both their shoulders

“Thank you” They both said in sync “I’m sorry about it” Max continued, pitty swelling in his eyes

“Hey, man. It’s fine, we’re athletes. It is what it is, congrats though” He said, pulling him into a side hug that would be easy for him to get out of if he wanted to

As she came back from the winter break and into the Red Bull’s motorhome wearing something else than the papaya colours she normally wore, she felt like she had started her life all over

She hadn’t talk with Oscar since he came to apologise, as well as Sebastian since Abu Dhabi

She felt good as she stood in her drivers room, as well as she was drenched in nervous sweat

She turned around at the sound of a knock on the door as well as it creaked open

“You’re going to be okay, Y’know” Mark said as he noticed the way nervousness was splayed on her face

“I’m nervous as shit, Mark. It’s fucking Red Bull. I can’t fuck this up” He walked closer to her, shutting the door before he did

“I know, but you’re going to be just fine. Why would they give you the seat if they didn’t think you deserved it, hm?” He had put his hands on both of her biceps, making her look up at him

“I don’t know…” “Exactly. You deserve this seat. You’re gonna be great, besides, it’s only pre-testing” He smiled as he pulled his hands away

He walked back over to the door “Blue looks good on you, by the way” He said smiling before he walked out

For some reason, she felt heat all over her body as he spoke the words. She tried shrugging it away, but she could pull the smile off her lips

There was no use in being good in pre-testing, but she would tell herself she did good. And the praise from Mark… She was afraid it would be something she would yearn for

She didn’t admit it, but qualifying above Oscar the following week had satisfied her more than anything else

And then when she also finished well above him… She didn’t even feel bad, which she probably should as she hadn’t spoken to him in half a year and skipped Christmas because of him, but she didn’t really care in the moment

She didn’t win the first Grand Prix of the year, but being up on that podium again after the break and seeing Mark standing down there and smiling up at her, she finally felt at home again

She caught the eye of Oscar as she walked through the paddock after the race, but instead of prolonging the eye contact like usual, he just turned away and kind of stepped closer to Sebastian who was walking beside him

That was the moment she felt bad. She stopped in her tracks, looking after her brother

Mark stopped as well, taking a step closer to her “You okay?” He asked, but his words didn’t reach her ears “Hey” He put a hand on her cheek, turning her head towards him “You okay?”

She sighed, feeling herself lean into his touch subconsciously “Yeah. Sorry, I’m fine. Just feels a little bad for Oscar”

His hand still lingered on her cheek. It was there way longer than what should have been appropriate

“Don’t. He took your seat and your mentor, you shouldn’t feel bad” He said, removing his hand, and she almost let out a whine at the loss of contact

“Yeah, but I skipped Christmas, and I know how important it is for Oscar and my parents, whom I haven’t spoken to either in a while” She looked down into the concrete, seeing on how close their feet were

“You’re gonna be alright, mate” He sighed, leaning down to pull her into a tight hug

As he pulled away, her body burned through the clothes she wore where he had touched her

She of course knew that she would be close with Mark as they would work together, but she had gotten closer with him in that little time than she had ever been with Sebastian

She kinda of hated herself for it, knowing damn well she would get too attached if he would ever leave her, even though he swore he wouldn’t

She still had the doubt

It was bound to be, with everything that was taken from her, she was bound to have the doubt that everybody would leave eventually

“You happy about the home race?” She asked as she walked with Mark into the paddock

“So happy. I’m tired of staying in hotels” You could see the shine in his eyes as he spoke, obviously happy about the whereabouts of the race

“Understandable” She said as they walked into the Reb Bull motorhome, her body disobeying and flushing red as Mark’s hand placed on her lower back to lead her in

She missed the warmth of his hand the moment he didn’t touch her anymore. She sighed as she closed the door to her drivers room

She slid down the door, pulling her legs flushed up her chest and banged her head back against the door

This was normal, right? It was normal to develop feelings for someone who you worked very close with

She didn’t feel like this with Seb. Seb is a friend. Sebastian was a friend

This wasn’t normal

She was startled as she heard a knock on her door. She scrambled to get up. She sighed before opening the door

“Are you okay? I heard a small bang” It was Max. He must’ve heard her

“Yeah. No, I’m fine, really. Thank you though” She smiled, nodding slightly as she spoke, her hand still on the door handle

“Okay. Good luck today” He went to walk about, but she called his name and he turned back “Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?” She was hesitant in her words, and it was obvious

“Sure. Anything” She took a step to the side so he could walk into the room with her “What’s up?”

“It’s normal to like someone you work closely with a lot, right?” She asked as he hat sat down on the couch

“Yeah, I would think so- hold on. Is this a personal question or hypothetical?” She froze, afraid he had seen right through her

“Does it matter?” She asked, her voice cracking slightly

“Of course it does. If this is a personal question, then I’m gonna find out who you like from the team no matter if you’re tell me or not, and why would it be a hypothetical question?” He explained, yapping a little too fast for her to follow

“It’s for a friend, Max. She works with her manager very closely, and she’s afraid it’s not normal because she didn’t have the same feelings with the last one” She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest

“Oh. Well, love is normal, and you can’t decide who you like and don’t, so yeah, I guess it is normal” He shrugged leaning back into the couch

“Okay. Thank you for the help” She said, Max now standing up

“Of course. Glad i could” He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him

“Thank god” She whispered to herself, letting out a deep and long breath

Doing the rest of the week, she kept replaying the conversation she had with Max every time her thoughts said that it was wrong to have the feelings she did

It was finally race day. She had unfortunately had some mechanical issues during qualifying and ended up in Q2 and with Max on pole as usual

The start is good, not perfect, but better than she had expected. She managed to get out of the cramped site with no scratches and a few overtakes

Max is far ahead. Nothing else expected from him. She manages to get into p2, getting the call over the radio that she’s faster than Max, closing in on him

She got up to him, but he kept blocking her as she tried to overtake him “Is he gonna let me through or what?” She asked her engineer

“Give me a second” They said, presumably talking to Lambiase as more than a second went by “You can overtake”

“Thank you” She sighed as Max gave her space so she could overtake him, getting ahead of him in a fraction of a second

She cheers as she crosses the line at the last lap. Seeing her team cheer for her as her first win for Red Bull

She had a big smile on her lips as she looked over the crowd as her national anthem played. She got a quick glance at Max to her side, obviously annoyed at her win

She looked back, seeing Mark in the crowd. She made eye contact with him, making her subconsciously clench her thighs together

She thought it was obvious, but maybe it wasn’t, because he didn’t look like someone who saw, neither did the two drivers standing next to her

The whole team and some other drivers went out to a nearby club to celebrate. She decided not to drink too much as she was a light drinker

“Hey, I’m gonna head back to the hotel” She said, walking over to Mark

“I could take you to mine. Then you don’t have to sleep at the hotel” He offered, knowing it sounded inappropriate

She thought so as well, but the thought of being in Mark’s house, sleeping in his house clouded her mind, and she had agreed before she could think about it

It had all been a blur. From Mark calling a cab, to the drive to his house. He helped her get her coat off, hanging it up on the rack. She kicked her shoes off, placing them neatly on the floor by the wall

“You want anything to drink? Eat maybe?” He asked, as he got his own coat and shoes off

“I don’t wanna trouble you” She said, looking down into the floor

“I’m offering, mate. You want anything?” She nodded slowly, drawing a smile on his lips “Coffee?” He asked, putting his hand on her lower back, guiding her to the kitchen

She put a hand over her cheeks, hiding the blush on her face when his hand left her back. She thanked him as he put the mug in front of her, placing one in front of himself as well

“I feel like you’re the only constant thing in my life that hasn’t left me for my brother” She sighed, looking down into her coffee “I’m grateful for that. I love that” She sighed before she took the mug to her lips “I love you” The words were whispered and hidden by the mug, almost impossible for him to hear

“What?” She froze, afraid he had heard her. She shook her head slightly, putting the mug back down

He sighed, moving to take the seat beside her, turning the chair to face her “I love you too” He spoke low

She turned his head to him, but quickly turned away again “No you don’t. Nobody does”

She didn’t get to register that he had turned her head with his hand on her cheek before his lips were on hers. She kissed back before he pulled away, hand still on her cheek

“It’s impossible not to love you” He stared directly into her eyes, making sure she understood his words

“Kiss me again. Please…” Her eyes drifted to his lips, and back up again “Please, Mark” He chuckled before connecting their lips again

She removed her hands from the mug, placing one of them on his jaw, the other placed softly on his upper thigh

His tongue swept over her bottom lip, resulting in her opening up for him immediately, whimpering at the feeling of his tongue against hers

Both his hands went to her hips, pulling her into his lap, making her yelp at the sudden movement

His hands went under her shirt, settling under her bra covered breasts, her own arms slotted around his neck

She started rolling her hips, getting none of the friction she wanted, resulting her to whine into his mouth at the frustration

“Mark. Please” She whimpered against his lips, hoping he would do something about the ache between her legs

His hands went under her ass as he kissed again. He stood up, pulling her with him, her lags attached around his hips, their lips still intertwined

Before she could think about it, her back was pressed down against the bed of his bedroom

He hurried to get her shirt off, throwing it to the ground, his lips now on her neck, nibbling softly at the skin

His hands went to her back, unhooking her bra, pulling it down her arms, throwing it with her shirt

She whimpered, almost moaning as his thumbs ghosted over both of her nipples, feeling them harden under his touch

“Mm. Sensitive” He smirked slightly, lips going back to her neck as he continued to play with her nipples

“Mark. Please” She rolled her hips, hoping to get some friction her clit, her hands grappling tightly at the sheets beneath her

He pulled back and sat up on his knees in between her legs, his hands pulling down the shorts she was wearing

She shivered at the feeling of his finger tips tracing down on the outside of her thighs as he pulled her panties down

He leaned down, kissing from her lower stomach and up between her breasts. His fingers teased her entrance as his lips went around her nipple, flicking it with his tongue

“Fuck. Mark, please. I’m begging you, please” She rolled her hips, trying to get him to get his fingers inside of her

“Patience, love” He mumbled against her skin, finally pushing his fingers inside of her

She let out small moans and whimpers as he started moving in and out of her, slowly starting to stretch her out

She moaned louder as he started curling his fingers, hitting just the right spot inside of her. The spot that made her back arch up into his mouth and her eyes roll into the back of her head

“Right there. Fuck, feels so good. Please, Mark. Please” She pleaded, not knowing for what, but whatever he could give her

He pulled out of her as she started clenching around him. She whined at the loss, but it didn’t matter when he pulled back and started discarding of his own clothes

Mark was gorgeous, but under the clothes? She might just’ve came right then and there

As he leaned down to kiss her again, her hands were all over him. His back, his chest, his waist, his hips. Everywhere she could reach

His lips went back down to her neck as he put her legs around his hips, pushing himself closer to her

She closed her eyes and whimpered as he slowly entered her, groaning in the progress of it, sending tingles all the way down her spine

“Fuck. You’re so right around me” His breath was hot against her skin as he slowly started to move inside her, drawing out whimpers and small moans from her

“So good for me, baby” He murmured, kissing her jaw, her whole body flushed at his praise, his moans starting to get louder

“Sounds so good for me” He groaned, starting to set a faster and steadier rhythm “Fuck. Feels so good”

“Mark, please” Her back was arched off the bed, hands gripping so tight on his biceps that she was afraid she would have broken through his skin with her nails

“What, baby? Tell me what you want” She whined at his words “Tell me. It won’t hurt” She slowed his hips down, groaning as she clenched around him

She whimpered before she spoke up “My clit. Please” He chuckled and sped his hips up again

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He asked with a smirked, trailing his finger tips down her body, landing on her clit, rubbing it slowly

“Fuck. Please. Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop” She trembled under his touch, rapidly clenching around him, drawing out soft and low moans from him

“Mark, please. ‘M so close. Please” She squirmed under him, her orgasm so close she could taste it on her tongue

“Come for me, baby” His words almost cut short with a moan threatening to slip out

She didn’t hesitate a second before she came. Rapidly clenching hard around him, pulling him closer to the edge of his own orgasm

“Mark, please come in my, please” She whined as his thrusts became sloppy and out of rhythm

“You sure?” He had planned to pull out, but if it was what she wanted, how could he deny her?

“Yes, please. I want it” He managed a few more thrusts before he stilled his hips as he came inside her, her name rolling off his tongue in a low moan

He slowly pulled out of her, drawing a whine from her as he laid down beside her. He pulled her limp body into his, kissing the top of her head

“I’ll run the tub” Mark said, starting to get up

“It’s late. Can’t we just wait for tomorrow?” She asked, pulling him back down

“No. We’ll shower and then we can sleep. Okay?” She kissed her temple before she let him go so he could turn on the tub

“Come on, love” She helped her up from the bed, pulling her body flushed against his own, guiding her towards the bathroom

He knelt down to test the warmth of the water before he helped her get in. She leaned slightly forward so that he could get behind her

“Don’t fall asleep yet, my darling” He said snaking his arms around her soaked body, noticing she was dozing off

“I don’t wanna go home tomorrow” She sighed, her hands going up and down his arms

“You could always stay here until you need to go again” He said, kissing her cheekbone

“I could?” She asked, turning her head slightly to look better at him

“Mhm” He nodded softly, eyes drifting all over her face, looking at all the small features of it he had never before

“I just need to get my stuff from the hotel tomorrow then” She leaned her head back against his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat in her back

It was the best 11 days she could ever imagine spending with him. She had never felt better. Never felt more loved in her life

“Hey, Y/N” Daniel caught up to her as she walked down the paddock “Anything interesting happened since the last time?”

“Y-yeah. I guess so” She felt a slight blush creeping down her neck

“Really? Wanna tell me about it?” Daniel asked, slowing their steps down and looked at each other

She thought about it for a moment, before deciding to speak about it “Okay. But you can’t tell anyone. Okay?” He nodded softly

They stepped to the side, making sure nobody could hear them “What’s up?” He was slightly nervous, seeing herself nervous

“I got in a relationship” She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest, looking down into the concrete

“Really? That’s nice. Who’s the lucky guy?” He was far too happy to what she was about to say

“Mark” She said it so low she was afraid he didn’t hear her

“Mark who?” “Webber” He froze, unintentionally holding his breath

“Daniel?” She looked up at him, noticing go he wasn’t breathing “You need to breath, Danny”

“I’m sorry” He led his breath out “Mark Webber? Like, your manager, Mark Webber?” She nodded “Okay…” He was obviously trying to wrap his head around it

“Could you not tell anyone? We’re trying to keep it a secret for now” He nodded, afraid to speak to say something he shouldn’t “Thank you. You’re a real friend, Dan”

“We look out for our own, right?”

After every race, she liked to watch clips from the garage. It gave her some sort of comfort in watching her team, and seeing Mark on screen, she would be redder than a tomato, knowing she could jump him when ever she wanted

At some point, she had drawn Mark into doing it too. They would be curled up into each others body on the couch at whose ever place they would be staying at

She would blush every time she saw a clip where they would talk to each other. On tv it looked so innocent

It looked like your normal manager giving the driver a tip or telling them something they should improve or look out for, but they knew damn different

They knew what was coming out of the older’s lips. The words were pure filth. Filth that would fuck them both in the news if any body heard

It was also then after Imola that tweets started flowing out about hers, Oscars and Sebastian’s “relationship”

How they went from the best circle to something that looked like multi 21 or brocedes if you put it the right way

“How do you feel about all of it?” Mark asked as he saw her closed out of twitter after reading a tweet about it

“It’s fine” She sighed, snuggling into his side under the duvet on the bed “Not like it’s not true” Mark snakes his arms around her waist, pulling her closer “Although, I do miss Oscar sometimes, only sometimes though”

“Of course, he’s your brother. He’s half of you, and the other way around. You grew up together, never left each other’s sides. It’s okay to miss him, even if he is an asshole” That drew a chuckle out of her

Abu Dhabi rolled around, and at this point, her and Max points were tied. She needed to win the Grand Prix to win the championship

It felt like last year all over again. She had heard about the pressure both drivers was on during the time in between the two races, but she never imagined it to be this though

She needed this. She needed to prove she was worth something, and that McLaren made a wrong move to replace her

She needed to prove to her parents that they chose the wrong side

She needed to prove to Sebastian he chose the wrong sibling

She got pole during qualifying, but the whole race, the two Red Bull drivers were battling wheel to wheel, always no more than a fraction of a second ahead of the other

When they crossed the finish line, none of them was cheering as they didn’t know who had gotten through first

“Congratulations, Piastri. You’re world champion” She heard it over the radio

“Seriously?” She needed to hear it again before she was sure

“You’re allowed to cheer, Y/N” It was now Christian over the radio

“Fuck. Oh my god” She hardly got any words out, her excitement getting the best of her, freezing her thoughts

She slowly drove up in front of the sign labeled with a big number 1. She got out of her car, going over to her team, hugging them all

She got to Mark, hugging him tightly, her helmet kinda getting in the way. She was so caught up in the moment, too focused in being in his arms that she didn’t care that his hand that was on her back slipped down to her lower back, too far to seam appropriate

“I love you so much” She said it low, hoping no body from the team heard her, but still hoping he heard her

She pulled back, going back to say congratulations to Max and Lewis who placed p2 and p3

Since it was the last race of the year, everybody went out celebrating. No matter what team they were from, they all went out to the same club

She sat in a booth with Max, Charles, Daniel, Lewis, and Fernando. They were all sitting and chatting about everything and nothing, each of them taking turns to give drinks and shots

Slowly, all of them went to other people to talk to them too. Once it was just her and Fernando left back, Mark had joined them

Fernando had left a little while later, going over to Lance to talk to him, seeing everybody else had left him sitting alone

“Congratulations, baby” He said, leaning closer to her so she could hear him over the music and people talking

“Thank you” Her eyes were so soft as she looked up at him “Thank you for being with me all the way. I love you so much” She leaned over, kissing his lips softly

“Everybody can see us, love” He said, pulling slightly back, knowing she was the one wanting to keep them secret

“I don’t care. We have all winter to deal with the PR” She smiled, kissing him again, her fingertips softly placed on his jaw, feeling him kiss her back, his hand placed softly on her waist

The next morning, she had woken up late, her arm launched over Mark’s waist while laying on her stomach beside him, her head turned away from him

She turned on her back before she sat up. She took her phone from the nightstand beside her

11:56

She sighed, then saw her notifications

Twitter 99+ notifications

She pressed it, seeing it was all responses to one tweet. Her sigh she let out had woken Mark

“What are you looking at?” He asked, sitting up beside her

“Don’t know yet” She pressed the original tweet “We were caught yesterday. Photo proof”

#smut #formula one #mark webber x reader smut #mark webber x reader #mark webber smut #mark webber #angst

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si1verghosts · 6 months ago

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Hi!

3. A kiss on the forehead😌

helloooo dear anon!! i am sorry this took so long i could not for the life of me figure out to write but then ! i wrote this on the 4th and i realized it could work... maybe... sorta. this may not be what you were expecting/wanting but there's forehead kisses in there.... somewhere 🫡 also, if u are not american i apologize for giving you a july 4th fic 😭 but the holiday is relatively inconsequential here like theres no patriotism it's just a backdrop if u know what i mean.... anyway, i hope u enjoy <33

you taste like the 4th of july

di leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.5k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking | tw: thoughts about death and dying

tags: established relationship; fluff (i guess??); slight changes to canon to suit author's headcanons

read on ao3

a/n: for the past few months i've been working on this very insane multi-chap post di leon fic 😵‍💫 this was written with that in mind But does not have a place in that story... probably.... idk!!! either way, i think it can be read as a standalone just fine

additionally, there is a scene in here where leon picks the reader up. i would just like to say like... he gets thrown into concrete walls on a biweekly basis and gets up and walks it off without issue so i think he can lift anyone no matter their size or shape!!

not beta read or proofread - sorry if any of it is gibberish i've had a wicked migraine the past few days... will maybe attempt to proofread once i can see correctly again 🚬🧍‍♀️regardless, all mistakes are my own

i do not own leon or any other resi character mentioned, etc etc, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chatbot and/or writing generator.

-----

"It was a good day, wasn't it?" Leon asks, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you stand over the patio table, cleaning up the abandoned plates and platters.

You hum. It was; a beautiful, cloudless July 4th, spent with Leon's friends in the backyard of your home. The only ones missing were Ashley and Ingrid; the former having a standing family commitment and the latter planning to spend her holiday on the beach, away from the country and your fiancé.

Typically, Chris hosted the Independence Day cookout, but Leon offered up your new home as this year's venue, citing your in-ground pool and the plenty of extra space you have for guests to stay. In reality, he just wanted the chance to out-grill Chris - he'd been preparing since Memorial Day; testing different spice and sauce combinations as well as stocking your freezer full of large cuts of meat.

He'd started before you were even awake, chopping and seasoning in the kitchen, slowly loading up the smoker. You'd joined him on the patio a few hours later, watching from your pool floaty as he poked and prodded at various things.

You don't even eat meat, didn't know the whole thing was so involved, but you did enjoy the view; worn blue jeans hugging his frame as he crouched to check a thermometer.

You had taken a short break from the water, tying up lights and setting a few little decorations around before your guests arrived. Rebecca was the first, tucking her jugs of pre-made cocktail and platter of deviled eggs into your fridge before joining you on the patio.

Chris wasn't far behind, unloading two coolers filled with beer and containers of homemade potato and pasta salads. He'd handed one off to you, grinning, "Claire made one just for you this year."

You'd thanked him, making another attempt to get him to share his family's recipes with you. It was futile, you probably couldn't even waterboard it out of either of them.

Claire had arrived on her motorcycle shortly after, pulling a bundle of fireworks out of her saddlebags. "Sorry I'm late," she said - even though she wasn't - dumping the pile on the ground, thankfully far away from the grill. "Had to stop for these."

Leon had crouched down to inspect them, listening intently as Claire told him about all the different varieties she'd purchased while you relaxed back into the pool.

Sherry arrived next, Jake trailing behind her. She'd left both him and her bags of chips at the table, giving Leon and Claire quick hugs before immediately joining you in the water.

She'd slipped in right beside your floaty, grabbing your hand to get a look at your engagement ring - she'd yet to see it, having been so busy with work. Her eyes widened at the ring as she pushed her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head, "Leon picked this out? Our Leon? Leon Kennedy? Are you sure?"

You'd giggled at her astonishment, "Ashley helped him out; took him to one of her favorite jewelers."

"I should've guessed," She nods. "For my 20th Birthday, he bought me this crazy cute pink tennis bracelet and I was like, 'no way you picked this out alone.' He fessed up that he got a little help from a friend named Ashley.

"At the time, I thought it was just some girlfriend - or hoped, I guess. Back then, I spent a lot of time hoping that Claire and Leon weren't just… working; I liked to think they were taking time for themselves, that they were happy," she had trailed off then, looking off to the tree line behind your house for a minute. Blinking the mist from her eyes, she shrugged, continuing on, "Anyways, I'm thankful to Ash for that bracelet, it was there with me though… a lot. And I'm thankful to you for making him happy, like I always wanted him to be."

With that, you slid off the float to give her a hug, holding her tight as you whispered your thanks. You had worked to bite back your tears - if she didn't cry, neither would you.

Luckily, Jill had walked in a few seconds later, providing a distraction in the form of the most ridiculously large watermelon. "Hey, Kennedy," she shouted, pulling Leon out of his conversation with Claire as she gestured to the melon tucked under her arm. "Can't burn this, can I?"

Leon had thrown his head back with a laugh - in previous years, Jill had always brought boxed brownies with extra crispy edges and Leon invariably had to make a comment about them. "I don't know," he had shrugged, "When it comes to you, Valentine, I'll never say never."

Jill had reared the watermelon back, acting as if she was going to throw it at him. Leon had thrown his arms up, shielding his face, causing everyone to crumble into laughter at the scene.

"It was nice," you agree, reaching to pick up the barong machete he had given Jill when she asked for a knife to cut the melon. "We do have kitchen knives, you know," you scold mockingly, gently waving the blade around.

"I know," he says, releasing you to reach around and pluck the machete out of your hand. "It's good to exercise these every once in a while, though."

You roll your eyes at him, "It's a machete, Leon, not a horse."

He waves you off, slipping through the patio door to wash the blade in the kitchen sink. You take the opportunity to speed clean, knowing it'll be a much harder task once he returns and wraps his arms back around you.

Thankfully everyone had taken care of their own plates and cups - they'd tried to stay and do more but you had ushered them out of the backyard, wanting Chris, Sherry and Jake to depart before the traffic picked up with the crowds leaving the city following the fireworks shows. Jill, Claire and Rebecca had taken up on your offer to stay, at least, piling into your guest rooms. You were glad to have them, secretly plotting to drag them to brunch once you all woke.

You finish piling the platters as Leon makes his way back outside. Before he can get his hands on you and derail your progress, you point to the stack, "Take those inside."

He frowns, "Can't it just wait until tomorrow?"

"We'll get ants; come on, five minutes and it'll be done."

He sighs, but doesn't protest further, carrying the heavy plates inside as you follow him with the utensils. You stack everything by the sink before turning to him, "Is there any of Becca's cocktail left?"

He cocks his brow, tilting his head, "You really want to try that again?"

It's a valid question - you had given it a go earlier and despite everyone's warnings to take it easy, you had thrown back a large mouthful right off the bat. You ended up wincing in pain, "Fuck, that burns. What'd you put in there, Becca?"

She'd shrugged, "Oh, you know, a splash of this, a splash of that. And," she teased, drawing out the vowel, "A bit of my own creation."

"Your own creation…" You had muttered, trailing off before it hit you, "Test tube alcohol?"

She had giggled, grinning, "Takes some getting used to."

You had tried another, much tinier sip. You were able to enjoy the sweetness of the juice for a moment before the burn kicked in again, causing you to curse once more, louder.

Leon had shifted his attention from Chris to you at your exclamation. Seeing the jug of Rebecca's cocktail in front of you on the table, he quickly pieced together what was happening, calling over to Rebecca from his place by the grill, "You trying to kill my fiancé, Becks?"

"Absolutely not; that'd be a stupid thing for me to do," she'd shot back. "She's the only one who can keep you in line, and we kind of like you like that."

"Well," you start, rolling the word around your mouth, "No. But yes - there's gotta be some sort of trick to it, right? Everyone else drank it just fine."

"The trick is," he starts, voice low, reaching out to grab ahold of your hips, "To not drink it. Let me make you some tea instead."

"Fine," you pout, relaxing into his grip, not bothering to argue - tea won't make you hate yourself in the morning.

He moves his hands from your hips, sliding his fingertips along your spine. "Go wait outside," he says, releasing you with a featherlight kiss to your forehead, "I'll bring it out."

With a brush of your lips against his cheek in thanks, you slip away from him, heading back out to the backyard and pulling off your shorts, settling onto the ledge of the shallow end of the pool. The air has cooled with the setting of the sun, becoming a comforting warmth instead of an overbearing heat. You dip your legs into the water, thankful you insisted on having a pool when you and Leon were house hunting.

Someone is still setting off fireworks; they're a few miles away, though - you can hear them more than you can see them. Resting back on your palms, you close your eyes, imagining what bursts of color may be accompanying each sound.

Leon joins you a few minutes later - just after the fireworks had died down - sporting his swim shorts and carrying your tea. He bends, setting the mug next to you with a kiss to your temple, nosing at your hair. "Earl Grey," he reports before drawling, "How terribly unpatriotic of you."

"You going to arrest me for treason, Agent Kennedy?" You laugh, reaching up to squeeze his thigh below the hem of his shorts. "You're the one who made it; they'd nail you as an accomplice."

He falls into a crouch, leg muscles bunching under the pads of your fingertips as he shifts closer to touch his lips on your cheek. "They can hang us together, then," he remarks, voice a bit too serious for it to be just a joke. "Side by side, off the same branch."

You sit back just enough to get your eyes focused on him, reaching your other hand out to thumb at his bottom lip. "Dulce et decorum est pro cor mori," you whisper, tacking on a hum in question.

He cocks his head at the unfamiliar words, nipping at your nail playfully, "English please, baby."

You consider him for a moment, the translation of the true phrase running through your mind; how sweet and honorable it is to die for one's country. The old lie, it's come to be known as - fittingly.

It's a similar sentiment to one that's grown to become your fear; that he'll die for the sake of the country, under orders from the government, believing it was his duty.

But you think your spin on it may be true; would be willing to find out.

You don't want to weigh him down with the thought, though, choosing to reel him in for a kiss instead. "I love you," is the answer you settle on, laying the words down right on his tongue.

He seems content with your translation - the method of delivery likely having something to do with it - humming into your mouth. He kisses you back lazily for a long, languid moment before he pulls away, "As much as I'm enjoying this, I've been wanting to get in there all day," he says, nodding his head towards the water.

"Go," you chuckle, giving him a gentle push away from you with the hand still resting along his face.

He lays another quick peck against your lips before standing, padding around the edge to the steps. He pauses for a moment to pull his shirt over his head, skin honeyed under the soft glow of the lights you'd hung around the patio.

A second later, he slips under the surface without hesitation; kicking off the steps, moving quickly to the deep end. He almost shimmers as he glides along the floor of the pool, the rippling of the gentle waves he'd created making him seem like some sort of mirage as he passes by you.

He comes up for air once he hits the far wall, tossing his hair back, smoothing the water from his eyes. He doesn't rest long, though, beginning to swim short laps across the width of the deep end.

You observe him, sipping your tea slowly, appreciating the way his back and arms work with each stroke. He continues long enough for you to nearly drain your cup, stopping short when another trio of fireworks set off in the distance.

Setting your mug down, you eye him, preparing to slip into the pool to soothe him if you have to, but he relaxes once he connects the sound to the flashes in the sky. The tension that had flooded the line of his shoulders drains into the water as he shifts to wade backward, moving closer to where you sit.

You finish off your drink as he starfishes out across the surface of the water, floating just a few feet in front of you. You wonder if you could use him as a floaty, pinning up a note in your brain to try it out sometime.

"I'm glad you insisted on a pool, sweetheart," he sighs, breaking your companionable silence.

You hum, pleased, kicking your legs out gently and causing the water to lap against his skin. More fireworks sound out; he doesn't tense this time, but he does get his feet back under himself, moving to where you sit along the ledge.

Sliding his hands up your legs, he pillows his head in your lap, wet hair fanning out across your thighs. You shift your weight back onto your right hand, laying the other along his jaw. His eyes flutter closed as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and the scar that runs beneath it.

He picks at the tie of your bathing suit absentmindedly, tugging at the strings when you slide your hand into his hair, scratching at his scalp. "Sherry said something to me earlier."

He makes a noise urging you to elaborate, not bothering to open his eyes.

"She told me that when she was younger, she hoped that you and Claire were living your lives; that you were doing more than just working, you know? She said she wanted you guys to be happy," you explain, working to keep your voice even.

He cracks his eyes open, picking his head up to watch you as you continue. "She thanked me," you swallow thickly, "for making you happy, like she always wanted you to be."

He smiles at your words, and it's a beautiful thing. You still get all twisted up inside with how gorgeous he is; neurons overclocking themselves with the thrill of being the subject of his attention.

"I owe you a thank you, too, baby," he starts, pausing to nose at your wrist.

"You don't owe me anything, Leon," you tug at his damp strands still between your fingers, highlights catching the yellow glow from the lights around the patio.

"I do," he says, the words sending a jolt through you. You never intended on getting married, yet here you are now, eager to hear the phrase on the altar.

He kisses the thin skin of your wrist, lips lingering as if he can feel the thrum of your heartbeat; knows that the pace has picked up under his affection. "All this," he pulls back, taking a hand off you to gesture to the pool; the backyard; the house; to you. "It's something I never thought I'd get.

"Sherry's right - you're behind basically every bit of happiness I have now, sweetheart; I owe it all to you." He reaches up, untangling your grip from his hair, thumbing gently at the ring he put there, "Thank you."

You can't respond verbally, will burst into tears if you do. In lieu of speech, you lean forward, pressing your lips against his insistently.

He seems to get the message; understands that the pleasure is all yours, that you'd give him anything and everything you can - knowing he'd do the same for you.

He gets his arms back around you, continuing your kiss as he lifts you from the edge of the pool and into the water with him. You wrap your legs around his waist, safe and secure in his hold.

His teeth catch along your bottom lip and the neighbors down the street set off fireworks, the bright bursts of color painting your backyard in reds and blues and greens and oranges. The sparks reflect off the surface of the water as he slides his nose against yours and not for the first time, you think this may all be a dream. Maybe you died four years ago and this whole thing has been some sort of afterlife; you aren't sure you'd done anything worth this treatment, though.

Maybe it's more supernatural in origin; an intricate hallucination weaved by a Djinn that's got you chained up in some dark, damp basement as it feeds off your blood. Or maybe you just went crazy and the pool is actually a padded room, Leon's mouth against yours a product of your mind working to distract itself from your reality.

Whatever the case may be, it certainly feels real when he shifts his hold on you, hoists you up higher to get at your neck, laying kisses up and down the column of your throat, nipping at your jaw.

But before he can venture much further, the neighbor's fireworks show grows into an extravaganza, the relentless popping and bursting becoming a nuisance, shattering the illusion of your teeny-boppy movie moment.

"Jeez," Leon mutters, breath hot against the saliva cooling on your skin, causing you to shudder. "Did they buy out a whole tent?"

"Did you check that Claire actually went to bed?" You ask, shaking yourself free of his hold. "She could've joined them; brought everything I wouldn't let her set off here."

He hums, letting you down into the water, considering your words - even though you said it as a joke, it certainly is a possibility. You seem to come to this realization at the same time, eyes narrowing at each other as the spray of fireworks continues overhead. "We should…" He starts, nodding towards the stairs.

"Yeah," you agree, already beginning to move.

You pause to grab your towels, wrapping your own around yourself, throwing the other over Leon's shoulders when you catch up to him at the patio door. Stepping inside, you hear someone knocking around your kitchen.

Luckily, it's Claire. She steps back from the cabinet she'd been rifling through to face you and Leon with a frown. "Isn't this shit ridiculous?" She remarks, pointing to the ceiling in reference to the fireworks.

"You're one to talk, Claire," Leon shoots back. "Didn't you just set off about five hundred dollars worth of them in my backyard a few hours ago?"

"Yes, a few hours ago," she reiterates. "Nothing should be set off after the show at the Capitol is finished - after that, you're done; you missed your shot; better luck next year."

"Exactly," you nod in agreement at her reasoning, "They should put you in charge."

She grins at your words, moving to continue on, but Leon cuts in before she can start; "What is it that you were clawing through my cabinets for?"

She sighs, displeased with his interruption, setting her hands on her hips. "Where do you keep the ibuprofen?"

Leon shoos her out of the way, padding across the kitchen to get the medicine himself. Claire relents without argument, attention immediately shifting back to you as she leans over the counter. "So," she wiggles her eyebrows, "It seems like that pool was a good investment, huh?"

You bite at your lip, ears burning with embarrassment that she'd seen you and Leon necking in the water like teenagers - even though you shouldn't be flustered; it is your house, after all.

Leon sets the bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water down in front of Claire, annoyance evident with the way he uses a bit more force than really necessary, causing the items to clack against the marble.

"What?" Claire questions, glaring at him. "It was cute."

Leon huffs in response, unable to hide the flush that crawls up his neck at her words. You can't help the giggle that bubbles out of you, enjoying the way they bicker like siblings.

Claire leaves Leon to stew, tossing you a grin as she collects the bottle and glass, bidding you goodnight once more before she leaves the kitchen.

You move around the counter to Leon, steps careful in an effort not to slip on the water that has dripped off him and onto the tile. The neighbors must've ran out of fireworks while you were distracted by Claire as it's silent when you wrap your arms around him, tucking your face into his neck. "Still a good day?" You ask, voice muffled against his skin.

He slings an arm around you, fingers fanning out along the small of your back, "Still a good day."

#if anyone would like to see the ring i literally had a mockup created #because im crazy #its not exactly what i was thinking so i may have another one done.... we will see #also if my latin is incorrect just ignore it pls #its been over 4 years since my last latin class #my hs latin teacher would be mortified to know i had to google declensions #and still probably fucked it up #sorry mr. d.....#(inbox)#(writing)#leon kennedy #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy x you #what is The leon x reader tag #i've yet to figure it out

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