#eskimo life

[pazzesco]

James Kivetoruk Moses - Inupiat/Inupiak, (1900-1982) - untitled, depicting a woman and a man standing in front of their home.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a bowhunter, his seal prey, and a confronting polar bear .

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a seal hunter casting his hook.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a hunter with his catch working his way across ice flows.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a hunter in his kayak bringing in a seal.

James Kivetoruk Moses - untitled, depicting a man coaxing a harnessed reindeer.

"Mr & Mrs Napasuk Big Chief East Cape Siberia", depicting a woman and a man posing in front of their camp.

When strong gusts flipped a small plane landing near Teller, on the Seward Peninsula on August 14, 1953, one 50-year-old Inupiaq Eskimo hunter, trapper, and reindeer herder injuring his leg lost all means of support. “No more work, no more hunting,” he said about the event that caused a career change. “Is only way…drawing pictures.” Recovering, James Kivetoruk Moses resumed a teenage habit now leavened by anecdotes, legends, and knowledge accrued over five decades during which the land had taught and sustained him.

At heart, he remained a herder. And modest. Asked about his pictures’ appeal, he admitted lacking refinement. “Young people try to be artists,” he said. “They come up good artists, very good drawing because they were school. But no experience. Don’t know nothing [about] living.”

Untitled, depicting a shaman treating a sick man

In 1975, weakened by strokes and surgeries, Moses, with his wife, Bessie, resided in Nome, a non-Native commercial hub since Yankee-whaler days. Their cabin, abutting the Golden Goose saloon, sat a stone’s throw from black, foam-flecked Bering Strait beaches. Bessie, first acting as his bookkeeper, peddled a briefcase of Moses’ nostalgia at local hotels. She kept a percentage of the profits for herself, she once joked. For an extra five dollars she provided a handwritten summary of the subjects, of routines, beliefs, and a past beyond her clienteles’ ken.

Untitled, pen and ink wash on card stock

Accompanying this drawing is one of those five dollar handwritten summaries by the artist's wife Bessie, dated August 12, 1975:

"This pretty girl is from N. East Siberia. Her uncle and her folks were well to do family and they came across to our mainland from there every spring after spring to trade more than one skin or whole lot of them come same time all the way to Katzebue. They brought reindeer skins black and spotted skins, wolverines and wolfs skins to trade with all kinds of furs. This girl came with her mother because the father had to take care of their business. She was helpful and good to the people and everybody learn to love her every place. They want to help them on account of her wanting to marry. But since they were traveling the mother + father wouldn't leave her behind being the only girl. Hope the true happening is a good story. So long + good-by By Bessie Moses"

Postcard - James Kivetoruk Moses - "Eskimo Men & Woman" - Anchorage Museum

#James Kivetoruk Moses #art #artists #native american art #Inupiat #kivetoruk moses #nome alaska #alaska #bessie moses #eskimo life

[mostly-mundane-atla]

*pisses everyone off by writing/drawing the Northern Water Tribe as more Yup'ik and the Southern Water Tribe as more Inupiaq and refusing to acknowledge women's parkas with cinched in waists as canon*

#i'm sorry but i WILL NOT draw a hooded burgundian gown and call it an atigi #not in this life or the next #nor will you get pigeon-breasted tea dresses made of fur from me #eskimo on main #yes i know the yup'iit border the inupiat's southern territories. i do not care

[sounwise]

[In early May 1967, w]hile the Redlands trio [Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, and Robert Fraser] awaited trial, DS [Norman] Pilcher raided Brian Jones’s London flat, busting him and his friend Prince Stanislas Klossowski de Rola, the extravagantly named son of the French painter Balthus. Brian and Prince Stash, as he was known for short, were taken down to Kensington Police Station in a blaze of publicity and charged with possession of cocaine and cannabis, Jones charged additionally with possession of cocaine and methedrine. They went from the police station to the new high-rise Hilton Hotel on Park Lane, where the Stones’ new American manager Allen Klein was staying, but the hotel management made it clear that Jones and de Rola were not welcome, which is when Prince Stash took a call from Paul McCartney, whom he knew slightly. Prince Stash explained to Paul that he and Brian couldn’t stay at the Hilton, and couldn’t go back to Brian’s flat because of the press. Brian had other places he could go, but Stash, a foreigner, didn’t know what to do. ‘I’m sending my car and driver right now. You’re packing your bags and moving into my house, and if they want to bust you again they’ll have to bust me as well,’ Paul said. So Prince Stash joined Paul and Dudley at Cavendish Avenue, running movies on Paul’s 16mm projector, taking drugs and entertaining what Stash describes as harems of girls, including a [woman] named Iggy [Evelyn Rose], while Beatles fans camped outside, periodically bursting in through the gates ‘like sort of cattle breaking through a fence’. They’d steal Paul’s laundry and empty his ashtrays—‘Did he smoke this?’—before being ejected.

[—from Fab: An Intimate Life of Paul McCartney, Howard Sounes]

#source notes indicate second paragraph is from author interview with de rola though it is hard to tell how precisely #anyway 'they'll have to bust me as well' god. #would make ABSOLUTE sense coming from a man who once had a cop offer to park his (VERY) improperly parked aston martin #and in light of the cops having probably waited for george to leave redlands before busting the stones #but it's SO insane really. pop royalty pop royalty #(also sounes wrote 'an eskimo woman named iggy' which 1) am unsure if term is offensive in general but also #2) is incorrect + racist in any case bc while she was known as 'iggy the eskimo' in the '60s she was apparently actually half-mizo #so did not want to leave this in rebloggable quote) #fab: an intimate life of paul mccartney #howard sounes #paul mccartney #brian jones #prince stash #1967

[p5kun-luvr-69]

Fuck it we scottie posting

#secret says stuff #scottie #american eskimo #american spitz #she is the light of my life

[gracefulewis]

“What we doing? Is this eskimo kisses? Can I have a normal kiss? And one more. One more. And one more.”

#lewis hamilton #f1 #i already memorized this #really need to go outside and touch some grass #he’s ruining my life #i love him seeing interact with kids!!!!! #lewis with kids #and they they did more eskimo kisses #ALSO HIS GIGGLES #I AM MELTINF #MELTING

[somethingaboutvampires]

I was 43 years old, had been to four colleges, made a film in Russia, would be recognized by Eskimos, was arrested in Havana, and knew Bette Davis. I didn't just fall off the Christmas tree, but I had never heard of Valium - never heard of an anxiety attack. There is a part of me that's on the moon. That's a simple fact.

- Peter Falk

#peter falk #columbo #just one more thing stories from my life #dare i tag this #adhd #but also how i feel not knowing elephant babies are called calves #please also excuse his use of eskimo he was prob never told

[heinzzysset]

Eskimos Im Norden Kanadas und auf Grönland, in dieser weissen, kalten Umgebung leben die Einheimischen Eskimos hauptsächlich vom Fischfang und der Jagd. Am Abend sitzen sie zusammen und erzählen sich Geschichten bei einer heissen Tasse Kaffee. Natürlich haben diese Naturverbundenen Menschen auch Fernsehen und Radio, doch das erzählen von Geschichten hat einen besonderen Stellenwert in ihrem Leben. Es ist ihre Tradition die sie so an die jungen Leute weitergeben. ❄️❄️❄️

#Eskimo #nature life #polar regions

[what-even-is-thiss]

Does anyone know that fairy tale where a woman keeps remaking her husband out of animal fat every time he dies? I think it’s from a far northern tribe in North America or Asia but I can’t for the life of me remember which one and Google isn’t helping any

My professor read it out loud to my fairy tale class last year and I never wrote down what book he was reading it out of and it’s been bugging me.

If I remember correctly she made him come back to life by rubbing her genitals on him and there was a several months long mourning period involved every time he died

Google keeps bringing up unhelpful websites no matter what combination of words I put in, unfortunately. I’m usually pretty good at using Google so my last resort is asking y’all. If you know what I’m talking about and have a lead about it I’d really appreciate it.

Edit: It has been found! Blubber Boy from a kayak full of ghosts: eskimo tales gathered and retold by Lawrence Millman

[celtic-crossbow]

But Put Together, the Cracks We’ll Close In

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mentions of past child abuse; mentions of suggested abortion; blood and injury

Summary: Fresh into Alexandria, Daryl meets his match in a two year little girl and slowly loses his heart to her mother. You.

A/N: Based on the request/headcanon from @louifaith Just a couple of things. The child is described as in hair and eye color. Nothing is mentioned of reader so these traits could come from her father. There is also the mention of an “Eskimo kiss.” I grew up using that term but I’m not sure if it is offensive or PC nowadays. please feel free to send me a message if I need to change it. It is not my intention to be offensive to anyone! Also, sorry if anyone likes Spencer. He's always my go to asshole.

“S’that?”

Daryl felt the opossum sway in his grip, looking down with a scowl firmly plastered at the bright eyes returning his gaze, brimming with curiosity. She was a toddler, maybe two years old? Christ, someone had a toddler in this mess. “Dinner.” He grunted, pulling the dead animal out of her reach. He found out quickly that the curious little creature would not be deterred so easily. Standing on her tip-toes, she made a grab for the marsupial. “Knock it off.” He huffed and took a step back, bumping into Carol.

“Daryl, she’s a child. Don’t be such a grump.”

“Ain’t you got a mama—family to get back to?” He snapped, ignoring his best friend. The little girl’s eyes brightened.

“Mama! Mama!” She clapped. Daryl rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm.

“Yeah, go get ‘er.” There was an intense sigh of relief when the little human went running (waddling?) out of sight. “They got kids here.” 

“Yes, Daryl. That’s what that was.” Carol nudged him playfully. “The people seem to think they’re safe here. It gives me the creeps.” He nodded but didn’t comment. “They obviously don’t know what’s going on out there, not like we do. I think we need to be cautious here. Find a way to fit in but keep our guard up, you know?”

Daryl snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Ain’t got no intention of tryin’ to fit in with these folks. Livin’ in a fuckin’ fairytale here. Ain’t gonna last.”

“You’re such a ray of sunshine.” Sasha clapped him on the shoulder as she passed, earning yet another grunt. 

“Mama, here!”

Oh dear god, no. “S’back.” The hunter stated flatly.

“Oh, and she brought a friend.” Sure enough, the little girl was dragging you along, tugging incessantly at your hand as if the child had found the world’s most priceless treasure. “You did tell her to ‘go get her.’”

“Nadia, slow down!”

And slow down, she did. Right in front of a scowl-wearing redneck with a bleeding opossum in his grasp.

“Mama, dinner! Dorl dinner.”

Dorl?!? Daryl looked helplessly over to where Carl was carrying Judith, the little light of his life. Would this be what she was like as she grew up? She already knew him, loved him despite how broken and hopeless he was. She would laugh at him if he was ranting about something and hold out those chubby little hands and he was done for, whatever had irritated him was forgotten.

But this child? This wasn’t his lil’ asskicker. 

Daryl liked kids but he liked them from a distance. He had no business being around them, save for Carl and Judith. I wish I could have known Sophia. He wouldn’t bother getting to know anyone in this place. It’d burn like every other home they had anyway. 

“Dorl, huh?” You smiled.

“Daryl.” He replied flatly, his lip curling.

“I’m Y/N. I assume Aaron found your group?” 

He didn’t answer, too occupied with trying to continuously move away from the small child clumsily reaching for his knife sheath. “Stop that.” He barked, expecting the kid to balk. She did quite the opposite and wrapped her tiny arms around his leg, just below his knee. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Shake her off? Of course not. She might get hurt. While he really didn’t want to be touched, he couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow his job to make sure this kid wasn’t hurt. “Can ya—would ya—?” Shoulders slumped, he didn’t even gesture. You know what he was asking.

Chuckling, you reached down and gently pried the little girl loose. “Nadia, you’re supposed to ask before hugs, remember?”

“Hug Dorl.” The dark-headed child pouted.

That was his cue to step away, as quickly as possible, without running. He absolutely did not run. 

When you looked up, he was already gone, lost in the middle of his group as they headed in to surrender weapons and be interviewed by Deanna.

Daryl sat on the now red-stained porch, prepping his kill for cooking later. Carol had scolded him and made him promise to use the backyard going forward, but he doubted they would be there long enough for him to need the area. It was just the way the world was. Nice places like this could never last.

“Dorl dinner!” 

Jesus take the wheel. “Ya need a bell.” He grunted, looking around for you. “An’ apparently a leash.” Maybe if he ignored her, she would go find you. But what if she wandered off alone and somehow made it out of the gates? Shit. “Sit down, gremlin.”

She giggled and patted her chunky hands against her chest. “Nada.”

Daryl stopped moving and stared for a moment. Wasn’t that Spanish? Maybe? Wait. You had called her Nadia. Maybe that’s what she was trying to say. “Nadia?” Blue eyes squinted in wait.

Nadia bounced and nodded and then pointed at him. “Dorl! Dorl, Nada!”

He released his knife and leaned his elbow against his knee, the heel of his hand pressing into his forehead. “Dare-ul.” He tried.

“Dooorl.”

“Oh, for fucksake.” The archer gave up, picking up his knife and continuing with his task. Nadia didn’t even seem to notice what he was doing but leaned in closely with the most serious look he’d ever seen. He needed to lean back once she made it much too far into his personal space.

“Fucksy.” She said, maintaining eye contact as if she were challenging him. 

“No! Don’t say that. Can’t be teachin’ ya sh—stuff like that!” He panicked, opossum forgotten. Daryl threw back his head with a groan. “Can’tcha please just go to your mama?”

Nadia’s little face lit up and off she went with a chorus of mama mama mama. Watching her go, Daryl wondered where the little one’s father was, but soon banished the thought. It was none of his business. What was his business was to make sure the annoying curtain-climber made it home safely. Abandoning his dinner—no time to cover it if he was going to catch up—he walked briskly until he caught sight of her. Little legs can fuckin’ move. We’re fucked when Jude learns to walk. 

He stayed close, but far back enough to not catch her attention. She seemed to know exactly where she was going. Rounding the curb to the end of the street, he caught sight of the small house. Quaint compared to the other homes. The front door was open but he dared not go closer. Boots firmly planted on the sidewalk, he observed the struggle of a tiny human tackling front porch steps. Nadia was determined though. Had he chosen to help, he was certain she would give him that serious look again and yell at him in baby-speak.

“Nadia Avery, how do you keep getting out the door!” 

Maybe cause you leave it open? He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. 

Regardless, there you were, swooping down to gather the bundle into your arms with a couple of sobs and more than a few sniffles. “Baby, you have to stop doing that! You scare mommy.” Nadia was nuzzling your jaw but then suddenly pointed right at him. 

“Dorl got Nada.”

When your eyes found his own, Daryl froze. His arms were out to his sides, his eyes wide. He looked nothing short of a deer caught in the sights of his crossbow when it realized it’s about to be shot. “I—uh, kid found me.” Forcing himself to relax a fraction, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Didn’t want ‘er wand’rin’ ‘round by herself.” 

Your face softened into a grateful smile. “Thank you for making sure she got home.” He nodded curtly and you turned away, only to turn back in the same motion. “Would you like to come inside? I have some stew that I’m heating. Plenty for the three of us.”

A part of him that he didn’t know existed wanted to immediately accept the offer but the part of him that had kept him alive this long spoke louder. “Nah, got my own dinner I need to take care’a. Thanks, though.”

You nodded, the smile never faltering. “Think of it as a standing invitation. Nadia seems to like you. She’s a good judge of character.”

He snorted. “Alright.”

“Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night.” He took two steps.

“Nigh’ nigh’, Dorl!” 

He heard the sound of a kiss being blown his way, but didn’t turn around. Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away.

It had been three days since he had last seen you or Nadia. He found that it unsettled him but not enough to go looking. Aaron had gifted him a work area and parts to build himself a bike. It was the best thing anyone could have offered him at that point. He felt like he still wasn’t fitting in, and while that was the idea at first, now it just felt…lonely. 

Carol was always gone when he got up and not home yet when we retired to bed. Rick and Michonne couldn’t stay out of the bedroom for more than five minutes unless something ‘coppy’ needed to be handled. Carl was always outside with Jude in the nice weather. 

Daryl was alone. Though he usually preferred it that way, he couldn’t seem to shake the negativity it seemed to bring to the surface. 

Spending time around something familiar from the old world came to be a comfort. When the posh little community with its “good morning” while walking the dog and laughter over coffee at the gazebo became too much for Daryl, he disappeared into Aaron’s garage. Aaron and his husband seemed okay in the archer’s book. They never once stared at him like he was going to rob them blind or beat them to a pulp. They showed him kindness even if his only attempts at conversation consisted of nods and grunts. 

“You going to this party tonight?” Aaron asked from the doorway the led into the house from the garage. 

“Nah.” Daryl picked up a wrench and continued his work, not giving the question a proper thought. 

“You really should make an effort to get to know more people here.” 

“They don’t like me. Shouldn’t, really.” The archer shrugged. 

“They just don’t know you. Maybe you should give them a chance.” Aaron kept his persuasion in the doorway. He had gifted Daryl that space and was unwilling to step into it without an invitation he was unlikely to receive without asking. 

“Better they don’t know me.”

There was a sigh that made Daryl curl his lip. “Just think about it, okay?” The shuffle of feet and the door opening signaled the other man’s exit. 

Why should Daryl go? He had little interest in fitting in, even when his own group was making such an effort. Carol and Rick were wary and had whatever it was they had but Carol would tell him if she felt it necessary. Daryl was just plain wary, utterly uninterested. Most of them would likely be dead soon and he didn’t need anyone else to mourn. 

So why he found himself showered and in a fresh set of clothing that was his own form of presentable was absolutely beyond him. It had nothing to do with the fact that on his walk home, he thought maybe you’d be at the party. Nope, nothing like that. 

He had made it at least to the yard outside, watching the festivities through the window. Everyone he knew seemed so at ease in there. Dressed up, laughing and drinking. Mingling like they belonged there. He didn’t belong there. 

“Nah.” He said softly before turning away. He was passing by Aaron’s house when a call of his name from that familiar voice had him stopping with a sigh. “Yeah?”

“You went. Good for you. Did you have a good time?” Aaron asked from the porch. Daryl shrugged. The man’s eyes narrowed and suddenly the archer was nervous, feeling judged. “You didn’t go in, did you?”

Daryl shook his head. “Just ain’t my thing.”

“Hey, you tried.”

“Why didn’t you go?” That wasn’t supposed to sound so accusatory but Daryl was tired and had simply had his fill of the day and that place. 

“Eric’s ankle is still giving him trouble. We just thought it best to skip out on this one.”

This one? Christ. That insinuated there would be more. With an inward groan, he answered outwardly with a grunt. 

“We’ve got dinner ready. More than can feed us. Can we tempt you?” The offer was sincere and Daryl was hungry, but his battery was running on fumes. He glanced toward his own home and then back at Aaron. “Eric makes a mean spaghetti, man. Come on, you’re already out.”

Daryl sighed. “Fine.” He was grateful for the invitation, he just sucked at showing it, as with almost every other emotion. Aaron held open the door and with a nod, the archer entered, still ill at ease being inside someone else’s home when his own still felt less than comfortable. 

“Dorl.”

Before he could prepare himself, Nadia was latching onto his lower legs. Arms out awkwardly, he glared at Aaron. “Didn’t say she was here.”

The man just shrugged a shoulder. “Didn’t say she wasn’t either.”

“Hi, Daryl!” You came around the corner from the dining room, no doubt to gather your spawn but he couldn’t seem to form a thought around the smile you were giving him. 

“Mama! Dorl!”

“I can see that, baby. You think you can let go so that he can walk?” Nadia shook her head with a vicious pout. 

“Dorl up?”

“What?” He looked down at the toddler and back up at you, silently hoping you’d act as translator for the little gremlin. 

“She wants you to pick her up. You don’t—”

For reasons unbeknownst to even him, he bent down and placed his hands beneath Nadia’s arms, lifting her onto his hip. It felt no different than holding Judith. Nadia was heavier of course. 

“Dorl!” Chubby arms wrapped around his neck, her little cheek rubbing against his stubbled one. “Tickle.” She giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world and repeated the action. 

You were still smiling but much more softly. “She really likes you.” Daryl grunted. “You don’t say much, do you?”

“Ain’t gotta lot to say.” He shrugged the shoulder Nadia’s chin was resting on, sending her into another fit of giggles. She pulled back suddenly, very in his space and then pressed her face against his cheek. He flinched but otherwise didn’t move. There was the smallest flutter that tickled his skin before she reared back again, smiling proudly. “What—”

“Butterfly kisses.” You informed, arms crossed but your smile hidden behind your hand. 

“What the fu—heck’s that?” 

“Oh come on, you never gave your mom butterfly kisses?” You chuckled. 

Daryl felt nauseous at the mention of his mother. The only thing he’d shared with her were bruises and a few after-beating hugs. But you didn’t know him. He took the anger and locked it down, but it must have spilled into his expression. 

“I’m sorry.” Your smile was gone, but to his surprise (and relief), there was no pity in your eyes. Only understanding. Still, it wasn’t a subject he cared to let linger. 

He turned his attention to the child, who had developed a sudden interest in the hair over his ears. “Ya ever gave a Eskimo kiss?” He almost laughed out loud when Nadia’s eyes flew wide with wonder. She didn’t confirm or deny but the fact that she hadn’t moved was answer enough. “S’simple.” Daryl brought a hand up to the back of her head and gently urged her forward, rubbing the tip of his nose over hers. “There. Eskimo kiss.”

She kept those wide eyes as her little mouth began to spread open into one of the biggest smiles he’d ever seen on a kid, granted he hadn’t spent much time around any. 

“Again!” She squealed, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him forward. He expected to have a bloody nose from the force with which she came at him, but her movements became deliberate and gentle, as if getting it right was the most important thing in the world. 

Nadia was incredibly pleased with herself, her little hands patting against Daryl’s chest before she wiggled out her request for freedom and sprinted toward the dining room with this newfound information to share with Eric and Aaron. 

“Careful.” You said, though there was no hint of anything unkind in your tone. When he looked away from the other room, he found your expression to be one he couldn’t seem to identify. It was soft yet guarded. He didn’t move away when you reached a single hand out to adjust his vest. “You’re smiling.” And you walked away, leaving him there to realize that he was indeed wearing a small, lopsided grin. 

He shook it off with a groan, absolutely regretting his decision to come in for dinner. 

“Dorl!” Came the loud shout from the table. “Dorl, sketti!”

This was not going to end well. 

It had been two weeks since the spaghetti dinner, which in fact had ended rather pleasantly. Aside from your giggles when he realized he was eating his meal with the same gusto and manners as the toddler next to him, Aaron had offered him a job that let him go outside the walls. He’d accepted almost immediately. 

Little Nadia had been determined to take him home with them, so he walked you there with her tiny hand in his. Halfway, she had begun to tire and fuss, instinct had kicked in and he scooped her up in the same manner he would Judith. The child was asleep on his shoulder almost instantly. 

He had zero intention of entering your home and was thankful the kid was out cold so that she couldn’t initiate the suggestion. He had passed her off to you and started to leave. 

“Daryl.” You had called quietly. He still wasn’t sure why he had turned back to you so quickly. “That invitation is still open.” You smiled, he grunted. “Thanks for being so sweet with her. Goodnight.”

There had been a heavy feeling in his chest but he had nodded. “G’night.”

Now, you and little Nadia were almost a constant presence when he wasn’t beyond the wall. A presence that he found no longer really irritated him. 

He would sit on the porch with the kid, working on his crossbow while Nadia colored or played with toys. He had to find her some of her own to have there because it seemed she and Judith were at odds about Daryl’s attention. He had made the mistake of lifting lil’ asskicker out of her playpen while Nadia was on his heels and the latter had begun to wail. 

He had quickly passed Jude off to an equally concerned Michonne and scooped up the kid. “S’wrong? Hey.” Little arms wrapped around his neck and, though he didn’t see the angry pout directed at the other baby, Michonne did. He turned at her chuckle, eyes wide and confused. 

Before she could explain, those little arms squeezed harder. “My Dorl.”

From that moment on, he saved time with Judith for emergencies (there were none) and for after Nadia had gone home with you. 

“Don’t touch that, Dia.” Daryl huffed, catching her little hand reaching for the knife he had on the porch table. He had spent the morning skinning a few squirrels for Carol to use in a stew but was at that point, working on the tension on his bow. 

And babysitting. 

You had some inventory to do at the infirmary with Pete. The doctor gave him bad vibes so when you had asked, he’d accepted all too quickly. Even offered to tag along and keep an eye on the kid there. In the end, after you had politely declined, he had reasoned that you were a grown woman and could handle yourself. 

“Babysitting, again, hmm?” 

Daryl glanced up from his crossbow toward Carol on the top step, Nadia already beaming up at her from the hug around her waist. It lasted all of three seconds before the kid was back to her toys beside Daryl’s boot. 

“Mhm.” Was the only answer he offered, one that was mimicked from the little person below him. He didn’t smile but Carol didn’t miss the way his eyes left the weapon to regard Nadia for a moment before returning to the task.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, plopping down onto the other chair. She grabbed a toy that had rolled away and handed it back to the child.

“Some inventory shit at the infirmary.” Daryl shrugged, rotating the bow to check his work. Carol made a noise that gave him pause, one he didn’t like. “What?”

“No one’s at the infirmary. I was just there for Mr. Henderson’s blood pressure medication.” 

He could feel his heartrate picking up, a sense of foreboding so strong that he could barely think straight. “Pete weren’t there?”

Carol shook her head. “No one.” She sat up straight when Daryl stood, sheathing his knife and placing his crossbow on the railing. “Daryl?”

“Dia, I’m gonna be right back. You’re gonna stay with Carol for a few minutes. Tell me the rules.” 

Nadia’s wide eyes narrowed into seriousness. “No bow. No move. Be good. No shit.” It took her a moment to babble through the small list but Daryl ruffled her hair with the smallest of half smiles.

“No shit, Daryl?”

He was already stepping off the porch. “Her mama hears ‘er sayin’ that an’ m’a dead man.”

Carol laughed and shook her head, turning her attention to the little human that was already working up to a cry as Daryl walked out of sight. “Do you like cookies, Nadia?”

He checked the infirmary first. He didn’t doubt Carol, but maybe she had missed a room or something. It was, as Carol had said, empty. “Fuck.” The next most logical place would be your home. He ran the entire way. He’d feel like an absolute fool if you were fine, but he’d cross that bridge later. The door was open, he could see that from the moment he rounded the curb. You had a habit of doing that and he hated it, but who was he to tell you what to do?

“Y/N?” He took your steps two at a time and stopped on the threshold. “Y/N? Are ya here?” No answer. He felt like shit the moment his boot touched the floor inside. He’d never taken you up on an invitation for the dinner you continuously offered him, much less any offer to simply come inside. Now here he was tearing room to room, in your safe space. There were covered pots on the stove and the oven was on, but where were you? “Y/N!” He placed a booted foot on the bottom stair before your voice stunned him frozen.

“Daryl?”

He nearly collapsed in relief.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Nadia? Daryl?”

“She’s fine. She’s with Carol.” He rasped, sheathing his knife when he saw you staring at it. Your hair was wet, your clothes damp. You must have been in the shower. “M’sorry. Carol said ya weren’t at the—just got worried. M’sorry.” His eyes had lowered to the stairs below you but then your bare feet were padding down them to stop directly in front of him. “I’ll, uh—lemme go get ‘er.” He had barely moved before your hand was on his shoulder. To his shock, he didn’t flinch; didn’t even have the urge.

“Are you okay?” You asked, ducking your head to seek out his gaze. He continued to expertly dodge.

“M’fine. Just—I’ll go get Dia.” He stepped away and out of the loose grip you had on him, immediately missing the warmth of your hand. What the hell was wrong with him?

“I was making us dinner.” The words rushed out of you, like you were trying to get them out before he could leave. Daryl looked over his shoulder from the doorway, an eyebrow arched. “Us. Me, Nadia, and—well, you.”

“Me? Why?” He hadn’t meant to sound so unkind, ungrateful, but that was just who he was down deep, wasn’t it? Still, you seemed unbothered, your nervousness born of something else entirely.

“Because Nadia likes you. I like you. We’d like to spend time with you that doesn’t involve me asking for favors or the entire community leering and making assumptions.”

He still hadn’t fully turned, but narrowed his eyes. “Think they ain’t gonna make assumptions when ya have me in your house?”

“Fair point.” You nodded, chuckling. “Honestly, I don’t give a fuck what they think but I worry that you do.” Head tilted, Daryl turned but remained in the doorway. “You seem so private, quiet. I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Your bottom lip disappeared between your teeth for a moment. “So, will you come? Please?”

As much as he tried, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of dishonesty or ill intent in you. It was certainly there, wasn’t it? No one outside of the group that had grown to like him over months of death and sorrow wanted anything to do with him. So, why you? Why Nadia? “Alright, I’ll go get ‘er an’ be back.” He turned and took a step before you called out again.

“Don’t worry about changing or anything. Just bring you, okay?”

He nodded around the very foreign flutter in his chest, clearing his throat and leaving the house before he could overthink things right there in front of you. He’d be able to do that in abundance on the way to grab the kid. 

To say he was confused was the largest of understatements. You were a beautiful woman. Where was Nadia’s father? In that world, the absence usually meant he was either dead or had willingly left, which he couldn’t fathom either. Was the kid the reason all the single men weren’t knocking down your door? That couldn’t be it. Nadia was amazing, all bright smiles and such an innocence that was refreshing in a world as dark it was. 

Even if you did have suitors, why were you taking the time to get to know him? He was damn sure nothing special and had nothing to offer you. Daryl growled at himself. He was jumping the gun. You hadn’t expressed any real interest in him. You wanted to have dinner. Aaron and Eric had him over for dinner all the time. It was what friends did. He was your friend after all. He had to be for you to trust him with Nadia. He snorted. Maybe that was all the brat’s doing and you were just along for the ride. 

His shoulders were slumped, feet dragging by the time he made it back to his house, already opening his arms in expectation of the bundle of Nadia that would be leaping into them any moment. “Dorl!” 

“She was about to strap on your crossbow and come find you herself.” Carol teased from the doorway. 

“I was barely gone twenty minutes, kid.” He nodded to Carol and turned back to take Nadia home. “Your mama’s at home makin’ something for supper. Ya hungry?”

“Mmmmhmmmm!” Little legs were swinging while bright eyes watched the street in front of them, her arms loosely around his neck, trusting him to not let her fall. And he would never. Daryl craned his head to look at her, all dark hair and big blue eyes. She could pass as his own kid to anyone who didn’t know better. 

Whoa. That train of that was roughly derailed. 

Easily done when the top of her head leaned against his temple and she began to hum some tune he didn’t know. It calmed his anxiety enough to not eat him from the inside out before he made it back to your house. Nadia was wiggling to be lowered before he could even get her to the steps. Much to her annoyance (if her little growl and pout were anything to go by), he didn’t place her on her feet until they were on the porch.

The door was still open and, man, he really wanted you to stop doing that.

“Mama!” Nadia squealed, running right into your arms.

“Hi, baby! Did you have fun with Daryl today?” You hefted her onto your hip, your face turned toward hers even though your smile was aimed at the archer.

“We always have fun.” He was close enough to ruffle the kid’s hair without invading your space.

“No shit!” Nadia proclaimed with her arms in the air. You were smiling but your eyebrows shot up toward your hairline. Daryl cleared his throat.

“M’a tell Carol to watch ‘er mouth.”

“Carol. Right.” You chuckled. You started to reach for his arm but must have thought better of it and motioned toward the dining room instead. He found he was disappointed. “Go ahead and sit down wherever. There’s some wine and water already there.”

Daryl liked wine. He’d partake when at Aaron and Eric’s for dinner but here? He wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. The table could seat six but there were three places set, the middle chair holding a booster seat. He didn’t sit, wouldn’t until you did. Instead he noticed how close the glasses of wine were sitting to Nadia’s place and took the liberty of moving each of them to the other side. Not that the kid would bother them but it just felt—right?

“Alright, kiddo. You get to eat first.” You weren’t carrying Nadia anymore but she was right behind you, looking up at the bowl of pasta like a pup that was about to get its kibble. Daryl was already lifting the kid into her seat when you turned from placing the bowl on the table. “Thank you.” You did touch his arm then. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll be right back.”

Nadia had apparently chosen his spot for him, patting the back of the chair to her left. Chewing on the side of his thumb, he glanced toward the kitchen. Wasn’t he supposed to pull your chair out for you or something? Aaron had. 

“No, no, Dorl.” Nadia pulled at his elbow, earning a halfhearted scowl before he realized she was trying to get him to stop the anxious habit.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, not sure why he was apologizing when she just went back to dancing and eating once he had dropped his hand. He watched her for a moment, just being a kid, innocent and oblivious to the dangers and heartache that lay in wait just outside of Alexandria’s protective walls. She and you—just two more people for him to mourn in the end. What was he doing there? He had no business being in your lives. If he didn’t lose the two of you, then you would lose him. It was inevitable. It was fate. It was the way the world worked now, tirelessly snuffing out any semblance of light that could give someone like him hope.

And goddamnit, he’d be devastated. He adored your kid and though he couldn’t quite decipher what it was that he felt for you, he knew that if anything happened to you, he’d shatter. 

“Daryl?”

“What?” He snapped out of reflex, not fully out of his head before he had realized you were speaking. You flinched, the pasta in the two bowls you were holding bounced but didn’t spill. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” The bowls were placed on the table and a basket of fresh bread that he hadn’t noticed you had already brought out. How long had he been standing there?

“Yeah, uh—yeah, m’fine.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling very trapped in the small room. It wasn’t really that small, was it? “M’just—” He didn’t finish before he all but ran to the door, closing it behind him like he really wished you would start doing. He had a cigarette lit within seconds, trembling fingers bringing it to his lips for a long drag. 

Pale light from inside cascaded around him as the door opened. You didn’t move any closer, obviously staying near Nadia while the little girl ate. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” Lie. 

“Come back inside?” You requested after glancing toward Nadia, finding her eating her pasta elegantly with her fingers. Daryl said nothing, wasn’t even sure he could, but he flicked his cigarette toward the sidewalk and stood, walking past you with but a beat of hesitance. 

Despite Nadia’s excitement at his return, he remained quiet, but offered the kid a ghost of a smile when she offered a bite of her own food. Disgruntled at his refusal, she wore her own version of a scowl and continued to eat. You had taken your seat, giving the bread basket a tiny shove toward the archer.

“Thanks.” He mumbled. He wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. Staring at his food, he questioned whether the way he usually ate might disgust you. It was never something he actively thought about. He grew up in a home where he snatched what he could get and ate it quickly before someone could take it or reprimand him for it. It was nearly the same now that the world had ended. Thankful for any scrap of food, but quick to make sure it was gone before someone came ready to fight for it.

“If you think any louder, I might be able to hear it.” 

Daryl glanced up, unable to meet your eyes. You were swirling the wine around in the glass with your gaze settled on him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just dinner, Daryl.” 

With a barely there nod, he picked up his fork and began to eat, slowly and carefully, not noticing the way you watched him with a quizzical expression.

Nadia was having a hard time keeping her head up by the time dinner was finished, her little eyes closing before snapping open with a jerk of her head. 

“Time for bed.” You announced, attempting to wipe her face around languid movements of annoyance. “Come on, baby.” Lifting her from the chair, you tilted your head when she leaned her upper body back toward Daryl, reaching out with lazy, grabby hands.

“Dorl night night.”

Halfway out of his seat, he froze. “Think ya should, uh—your mama should handle this’un, Dia.” She didn’t seem to have it in her to argue, flopping onto your shoulder. You managed to hold up a finger, asking him to wait while you put Nadia to bed. He did, but busied himself gathering the dishes, taking them to the sink, and rinsing them out as Carol had trained him to do. “Wow, my very own human dishwasher. Can I keep you?”

Daryl felt the heat rise in his face, traveling down to his chest and up to the tips of his ears. “Stop.” God, you were just as bad as Carol.

“Daryl.” 

Oh, boy. Your tone had gone from playful to serious in two seconds flat. His stomach was in knots but he dared not turn around and rinsed the same bowl at least three times. “Hmm?”

“I’d like to see, uh—I’d like it if you'd come around more often. Tonight was—it was nice.”

And there it was. The one thing that had caused him so much inner turmoil now confirmed. You were interested and, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. When he finally managed to get his tongue to work, the words that spilled out were nothing like the ones running through his head and he regretted them immediately. “Where’s Dia’s daddy?” Christ, Dixon. “M’sorry.” He tried to backpedal, finally turning toward you and leaning back against the sink with a white-knuckled grip against the edge of the countertop. “Ain’t my business.”

“Gone. I don’t really give a fuck where.” You shrugged, so nonchalantly that he had to look at you. “He didn’t want her. Nearly got himself killed finding pills for me to take. I refused, he left. But I have her and I hope he’s a walker.” Your gaze was fond but serious, and he found not a single trace of annoyance or anger. “She’s never really liked men. Even Aaron and Eric had to coax her inside for dinner with a stale candybar.” You laughed at the memory, and Daryl realized he could listen to that sound for the rest of his life. “But then you. She wasn’t afraid, not for a single second.”

“It was the ‘possum.” He shrugged, shyly ducking his head for only a moment but looking back up through his fringe when you laughed again.

“Okay, we can go with that.” You lifted yourself up onto the island, kicking your legs, reminding him of Nadia. “Doesn’t really explain why she stuck to you like glue every moment since then, though. Dorl this and Dorl that. I’m not complaining. You’re good for her.” Daryl scoffed, ducking his head once more. “You are, Daryl. And I think she might be good for you too.”

“She’s a kid. Don’t know no better.” He shrugged, the urge to run becoming more and more prevalent. He didn’t belong there. It wasn’t his family. Nadia wasn’t his kid and you weren’t his. God, he wished you were.

You hummed, holding back something. “I had fun tonight, but when you come back, don't worry so much about what I think, okay?” The way he tried to eat more slowly?

“Yeah, okay. Was nice. Thanks, uh—thanks for havin’ me.” The archer made the choice to pass you and head for the door. Your bare feet hit the floor just behind him. “I’ll see ya ‘round. Lemme know if ya need someone to watch Dia.” Why the hell did he offer that?

“I will. Thank you.” The smile you gave him was almost sad. Maybe disappointed? “Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Yeah. Night.” He crossed the threshold but turned back, keeping his head low. “Keep your door shut.” There was no time for you to answer before he was jogging down your steps, barely slowing his stride all the way home. All the lights were off when he arrived and he couldn’t be more grateful to slip in and down to his room to berate himself properly until he was finally able to fall asleep.

Logically, he should have avoided you since that night, but Daryl never claimed to be the brightest crayon in the box. He absolutely did not look for reasons to go to your house, satisfied to find the door closed each and every time. If he saw you carrying something, he’d jog over to take it from you, no matter how big or small. He responded by meeting Nadia in the middle each time she called for him, even if he was covered in dark blood and brain matter.

“Dorl smell ick.” She would say.

He was down bad and though he would deny it until his last breath with the age old line of we’re just friends, Carol was smarter than that.

“Daryl, you and I are friends. You’re sweet on that girl and you can fight me if you try to claim any different.” She stirred at the brownie batter, intermittently swatting away his hand when he tried to sneak a taste. “You should just tell her how you feel.”

“Stop actin’ like ya know ev’rythin’.” He snapped with no real heat.

“Okay, fine. I know nothing.” She stated coolly, spreading the mixture into a baking pan. “Except that Spencer has been spending an awful lot of time around her and Nadia.”

Well, that had his attention. “What? When?” He hopped off the countertop and was quickly standing just beside Carol, moving accordingly so that she could continue her baking.

“Usually when you’re out. I think you intimidate him.”

“Damn well better intimidate him.”

“Why? You’re ‘just friends,’ remember?” Daryl curled his lip at her air quotes, turning on a heel to head toward the door. 

“Shuddup.”

He hadn’t been focused, lingering on what Carol had told him that morning. Worrying that Spencer was putting the moves on you that very moment he wasn’t there to do anything about it. What if he’d missed his chance? He growled, trying to take more of his own weight off of Aaron but his leg burned and ached.

“Ain’t that bad.” He tried to brush it off, but it was, in fact, that bad. He hadn’t seen the damn trap, the walker backing him right onto it. He was lucky the dead bastard didn’t take a chunk of him when he went down, but Aaron was quick. Had Daryl been alone, he’d likely be snarling and growling on the ground with his calf still locked within that metal.

“Keep telling yourself that and maybe your stubbornness will keep you on your feet until we can make it back.” The other man huffed. “First Eric, now you. I swear, I’m cursed.” Daryl groaned but couldn’t disagree. 

Christ. The archer’s head was fucked. He couldn’t focus with images of you running rampant at the forefront of his mind. The way you would smile when you saw him; how you’d laugh when he’d huff at Dia for calling him Dorl; you’d have him for dinner a few times a week and it was less and less awkward.

He was so fucked.

“Open the gate!” Aaron called urgently. Daryl hadn’t even been paying attention but maybe zoning out was what brought him that far with such an injury. The toe of his boot was dragging, his leg both numb and throbbing in a way he couldn’t seem to understand was even possible. Sasha was yelling, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He was too busy trying to look over his shoulder at the steady crimson trail that followed them. Would walkers follow it right to the gates? “Jesus, okay. I’m going to get help to carry you to the infirmary.”

“Fuck Pete. Gimme Y/N or just take me home.” Daryl slurred, his head falling back against the metal just inside the gates. He was fading, tired and smothered by a dark cloud that was creeping into the edges of his vision and mind. He knew he wouldn’t die from this, but damn, did it still suck.

“Dorl! Mama, Dorl boo-boo!”

Tiny, warm hands were on his face. He was cold, didn’t even realize it. Big blue eyes were hovering right in front of his face, a little mouth between chubby cheeks speaking with an urgency that made him want to scoop her up and soothe the worry. “Dia.” He breathed, his mind finally catching up, though he wasn’t sure for how long.

“Nada kiss boo-boo.”

Daryl chuckled breathlessly but pulled the little girl against his chest. “Nah, baby girl, don’t kiss that boo-boo. S’gross.” Big crocodile tears were forming and falling, and his heart ached. His little girl was never supposed to cry, never supposed to even be sad. “M’okay. Your mama’s gonna make it all better, you’ll see.”

“Mama, Dorl got big boo-boo.”

“I see that, baby. Can you move so mommy can take a look?” You were there, your voice a balm to the pain that was slowly fading. 

“She’s alright.” Daryl shifted Nadia to his side, letting her hold on with her head on his filthy chest. You’d have to give her a bath later and somehow, he had the energy to feel bad about that.

“Jesus, Daryl, what did you do?” You were cutting the lower part of his pant leg, right there on the street, but he didn’t have it in him to see who might be watching. He muttered bear trap but didn’t really recall it being his voice. Was it even him?

The child holding to him made a noise when the wound was revealed, jagged punctures that still steadily bled and she shouldn’t be seeing that. Why wasn’t someone taking her away? “Ssh. S’okay, Dia. Just look at me—can ya hum that song ya always do when we take ya home?” A tiny sniffle but then a little tune in his ear.

“What happened? He okay?” Rick.

“Daryl!” Ah, Carol. Good.

“Hey, take her, would ya? Don’t need to be here.” He was gentle if not weak when he tried to hand off Nadia, kissing one of her little hands when he finally peeled them away from his neck. “M’a be okay, Dia.” She cried. Even as Carol promised her cookies and brownies, she cried and his heart ached more than his leg. He barely caught the word disinfect before the hellfire in his leg struck him like a hammer to the head and he knew no more.

“S’not that big’a deal. I can take care’a myself at home.” Daryl grimaced and watched you moving things around in your living room. You disappeared and returned several moments later with pillows and blankets. 

“I know you can, but I also know you’re stubborn as a mule and you’ll try to go out of those gates behind Aaron within a day.” He barely opened his mouth before you held up an authoritative finger. “Don’t lie to me, Daryl Dixon. And don’t pretend I don’t know at least a little by now.”

“Dorl!” 

Before he could process her voice, the archer had a lapful of toddler. It was hazy but he could remember how he felt at the gate, the protective instinct, the absolute knowledge that Nadia was his no matter how untrue it was. He couldn’t seem to shake it.

“Hey, Dia.”

“Be careful of his boo-boo, sweetie.” You admonished in the most gentle tone while propping Daryl’s leg up on a pillow. “He’s going to stay with us for a few days so I can keep an eye on him.”

“Why?” Came the innocent reply. 

“Because Daryl is naughty and doesn’t like to listen when he’s told he can’t do something. Like you with Miss Carol’s cookies.” 

Nadia gasped dramatically and turned those big blues to Daryl. “Dorl takes cookies.”

Glancing at you, expression bland, he nodded. “Yeah, I take the cookies.”

“So he has to stay right here on this couch unless mommy is helping him, okay? Can you be my junior nurse and make sure he stays put?”

“That ain’t fair.” Daryl objected with an indignant pout. 

“Why? Because you know it’ll work?” 

Daryl grunted and crossed his arms. He was in for a long few days. 

A week later, the stitches were out but there was residual swelling that was hindering healing. Nothing to worry about, you had told him. 

“Why ain’t Ken wearin’ no clothes?” Daryl was concerned to be ‘playing Barbies’ when Barbie wore a bathing suit and Ken was naked as the day he was—assembled? So far he’d been able to avoid dialogue and just bounce the doll around with facial expressions that kept the toddler occupied. “Seems a lil’ fucked up.”

“You try finding doll clothes nowadays.” There was laughter in your voice and tenderness in your touch while you cleaned the wound and changed the dressings. Only a couple more days of that. 

“Maybe I will.” The archer mused, standing the doll on top of Nadia’s head, keeping it there with his finger on the top. Her little arms could only reach the legs, facing reddening and scrunching with giggles. 

“Time to pick up your toys. Daryl needs to rest and you, missy, need to get to bed.” 

“Noooooo.”

“Don’t sass your mama.” Daryl dropped the doll in favor of patting the kid on the head. “G’on now.” The archer dropped an arm outward, fully expecting the hug that was incoming. “Night, kid.”

“Nigh’ night’, dada.”

It was at that moment Daryl Dixon completely forgot how to breathe. His eyes were already on yours before the kid decided to drop that bomb and skip away to brush her teeth like she hadn’t just turned his world upside down. 

“M’sorry. M’so sorry. I don’t—she didn’t—”

“I’m just—” you interrupted, backing toward the doorway, “I need to put her to bed.” You stumbled out of the room as if he were chasing you. 

He wasn’t sure he could move if he tried. His heart was in his nose, his stomach in his ass, and his lungs were plaited around his spine. Why would the kid call him dada? It made no sense. A couple of months wasn’t long enough for anything like that. Right? Fuck, he needed to talk to Carol. His brain was malfunctioning. He couldn’t process this. 

Throwing off the blankets, Daryl sat up, levering to his feet. He still had a limp but it was easier now. Shuffling to the exit, he stopped, staring at the handle of the closed door. You’d been doing that now, hadn’t you? He said something once and you had listened. 

“So you’re just gonna run away after that, is that it?”

The archer spun so fast that he lost his balance, righting himself with a hand on the wall. “It ain’t—I was—just needed to talk to Carol.” He admitted. His shirt was damp and he was certain he would vomit. 

“She didn’t mean anything by it, Daryl. I’ll talk to her.” You were wringing your hands, your chin wobbling. 

Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. He had the sudden desire to hug you but didn’t dare move. Aside from casual touches, bumping shoulders in jest, and of course the occasional wound treatment, the two of you had never physically interacted. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. Wow, had he thought about it. “I know she didn’t mean nothin’.” Ouch. Somehow that revelation was worse. 

“She loves you, Daryl. I’ll talk to her, I promise. Please don’t walk out on her. On—on me.”

He likely looked like an idiot hobbling half the distance to where you stood. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” When you nodded and dropped your head, he dared another unsteady step. “M’a stay as long as ya want me here. You an’ Dia.” With one hand, he touched your shoulder and left the decision up to you. You needed no further prompting to step into his arms. For a moment, nothing else mattered. But then you were stepping back.  

“Okay.” You nodded, turning your head to wipe away a tear you thought he didn’t already notice. “I like having you here.” He returned the nod silently. 

Nothing else was said. Daryl went back to the couch, you went to get ready for bed. The night went on with both you and Daryl feeling more alone than ever. 

“She really called you dada?” Carol asked in an excited whisper, the wide grin on her face in direct contrast to Daryl’s frown. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“No!” He shot back immediately, looking over his shoulder at the little girl playing on the living room floor. They had somehow even managed to get her to sit next to Judith’s playpen, so long as Daryl didn’t touch Lil’ Asskicker, peace remained. “I mean, yeah. Fuck, I dunno what I mean, Carol.”

“Daryl.” The seriousness in her tone brought his gaze to hers, flinching when he found her leaning on her elbows much closer than she had been just a moment ago. “I’m gonna ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly.”

“Ain’t never lied to ya.”

“Okay.” Her eyes, just as blue as his own, narrowed. “Do you love that little girl?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” It was true. It was so different from how he loved Judith but yet completely the same. He would give anything for her to have been his, to have been there while you carried her. He wanted to spit on the man that tried to force you to end it. He couldn’t imagine a world without you and little Nadia anymore. It was as if the two of you were the missing pieces that could give him a chance to be whole. 

“And Y/N?”

“What?”

“Do you love Y/N?” Carol leaned back a little, her gaze no less intense. 

“S’a lil’ more—I, uh—”

“I said STOP!” 

Daryl was on his feet instantly at the sound of your voice, running outside. His limp was less profound and didn’t hinder him from descending the steps to see you across the street with your arm in Spencer’s grasp. You were likely on your way to collect Nadia.

“Come on, Y/N. You’re beautiful, and I’ve seen the way you look at me.” Spencer pulled you toward him. 

“You’re delusional!” 

“Stop being such a prude. You’ve got a kid. You think you got any other options out there?”

“Yeah! She does!” Daryl’s fist had already connected before the other man had even realized he was approaching. The archer stepped in front of you and stayed there, coiled to attack but holding steady until he was given a reason. 

“You?” Spencer spat, literally, a glob of blood and saliva landing next to Daryl’s boot. “The dirty redneck everyone’s afraid of? That’s laughable.”

Daryl started to move until he felt the smallest tug on his jeans. Nadia was looking up at him, equal parts curious and afraid.

“Dada mad?”

Your arms encircled his stomach with whispers of he’s not worth it repeated over his shoulder. “Get the fuck outta here an’ don’t come near my girls again.” The archer waited, arching a brow when Spencer hesitated. 

“You heard him.” Rick stepped up to Daryl’s left, Michonne and Carol on this right. “Best be going now.” Spitting again, the man curled his lip and scrambled to his feet, stomping off toward his mother’s home. “Well, that’s gonna be a problem.”

“I’ll go talk to Deanna.” Maggie offered, nodding at Rick but stopping to squeeze Daryl’s arm on her way by. What the fuck? Had everyone noticed?

“We should make ourselves scarce.” Michonne suggested with a knowing grin. 

Once they were all out of sight, Daryl deflated, one hand falling to the top of Nadia’s head. “Ain’t angry, Dia.” She sniffled and seemed to only hug his leg tighter. When it was clear he couldn’t turn with the added weight to his injured leg, you stepped around in front of him.

“Your girls?” You asked, expression so terrifyingly unreadable. 

“I just—he needed to leave an’ I didn’t want him to think he could come back ‘round.” His bottom lip was instantly being gnawed between his teeth. “Needed to make sure ya were okay.”

“So, we’re not your girls?” There was definitely disappointment there. You were wringing your hands again before reaching toward Nadia.

“I mean, if ya—yeah.” Daryl swallowed hard. “Yeah, you’re my girls. Have been for a while. M’just a idiot an’ I was—I’m scared. Don’t wanna be like my old man.”

You hummed, stepping into him to brush back the fringe across his eyes. “You haven’t told me anything about your parents, but I’m willing to listen. I wanna know everything about you.”

“Me too—’bout you, I mean. ‘Bout Dia.” He was reaching for your face, leaning in just as you did. His lips barely brushed yours before there came another tug at his jeans again. 

“Home, dada.”

You laughed while Daryl just looked stricken and confused. “You heard her, Daryl. Let’s go home and figure this out.” 

One Year Later 

“Daddy! Lookit picture!!” 

Daryl looked up from the mess of rabbits he was skinning on the porch, blowing upward to move some of the hair from his eyes. The almost four year old was sprinting down the street from the Grimes’ house, a piece of paper waving in her grip above her head. He waved to Michonne who had been watching Nadia make it back safely. “Whatcha got there, Dia?” She was grinning from ear to ear when she presented it to him, holding it out in front of her because ew no when he reached for it with bloody fingers.

There were three stick figures. One was obviously him if the crazy hair and scribbled attempt at a crossbow were anything to go by. A small figure was at his side, dark hair and a big smile: Nadia. And then there was you. Daryl snorted. You were a stick figure with a circle drawn around the middle. 

“Your mama’s gonna ‘preciate that, kid.”

“Appreciate what?” You stepped out with two glasses of water, placing them on the table and resting your hand on your swollen belly. Nadia proudly displayed the drawing and received a big smile and mhm, so pretty from you while Daryl snickered into his shoulder. “Go put it on the fridge, baby, and wash your hands. Supper’s nearly ready.”

“Okay, mama!” And off she went in a blur.

“Not funny, Dixon.” You dug your bare toes into his lower back until he yelped.

“S’a little funny.” He wiped his knife across his jeans.

“About as funny as you cleaning these rabbits on my front porch.” He ducked his head sheepishly when he turned to watch you lower into your chair. 

“I’ll clean it up, Sunshine. Don’t get all uppity ‘bout it.” Rising from his perch, he gathered the meat onto a parchment you had given him and wrapped it, leaving the bones and fur to handle later. “Dia! C’mere!” Moving at inhuman speed, she was looking up at him from the doorway the next second. Daryl jerked his chin toward a bag on the table beside his water glass. “Broughtcha somethin’ back.”

You leaned forward with curiosity and watched your daughter pull out the contents of the bag, barely catching a glimpse of the different colors before Nadia hugged Daryl’s leg and disappeared back inside with squeals of delight echoing in her wake.

“What did you bring her?”

Daryl smirked. “Told ya I’d find clothes for them dolls.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #step dad!daryl #dad!daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #Spotify

[writers-potion]

Vocabulary List for Kiss Scenes

Ways to Kiss

gently

softly

lovingly

affectionately

tenderly

briefly

quickly

passionately

seductively

sensually

sincerely

slowly

frantically

shamelessly

Adjectives for Kisses

amazing

wonderful

memorable

loving sweet

tender

innocent

warm

romantic

lingering

spicy

breathtaking

seductive

affectionate

dreadful

terrible

awful

wet

sloppy

soft

moist

slobbering

drunken

clumsy

uncomfortable

awkward

passionless

Verbs for Kiss Scenes

pulse

flare

overwhelm

stun

stagger

flutter

coax

encourage

brush

bite

nip

nibble

taste

feast

savor

devour

delve

explore

worship

fuse

drown

invade

capture

imprison

swirl

massage

cuddle

caress

cup

pet

rub

trace

skim

trail

graze

hiss

growl

murmur

come apart

Nouns for Kiss Scenes

flavor

tang

embrace

sensation

ectasy

rush

greed

frenzy

euphoria

elation

rpture

jolt

rhythm

velvet

goosebumps

lobe

nape

mess

Types of Kisses +

a song

a smooch

a peck

french kiss

single lip kiss

lizzy kiss

ice kiss

lip trace kiss

butterfly kiss

air kiss

eskimo kiss

hickey

lovebite

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

References

https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/life-style/relationships/love-sex/how-to-kiss-in-7-different-ways/articleshow/55049549.cms

https://www.wattpad.com/408233278-vocabulary-word-lists-for-writers-words-for-love/page/6

http://getintoenglish.com/they-smooched-on-the-balcony-kissing-vocabulary/

#writer #writers #creative writing #writing #writing community #writers of tumblr #creative writers #writing inspiration #writeblr #writing tips #writers corner #writers community #poets and writers #writing advice #writing resources #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #helping writers #writing help #writing tips and tricks #how to write #writing life #let's write #resources for writers #references for writers #writers block #writerscommunity #writer stuff #romance #vocabulary

[eskymoos]

Levi Ackerman As a Romantic Partner

Headcanons by Eskimos

Levi Ackerman is the Captain of the scouts.

Of course he will have high expectations of you. His eyes are always on the target and his strength never fails. However, he knows to keep you close during every mission. Regardless of whether his behavior betrays it, his heart beats for you. Levi would sooner put himself under a guillotine blade than let anything or anybody hurt you.

He's also the type to hold a long speech to you about how you're using your ODM gear wrong and then, when you finally get the chance to shine, he will fly past you and slash three titans at once. Is he doing it for the safety of everybody or just to impress you? That remains a mystery.

Levi Ackerman is Humanity's Strongest soldier.

He doesn't crow about his strength. Nobody questions it because it's a fact. What's more, you've seen both sides of the coin. Levi implements harsh, disciplinary methods on young, delinquent soldiers. Sometimes he even punishes them physically. You might catch the Captain in the hallway dragging somebody like a ragdoll by their hair or kicking the back of their knee to trip them and the next moment you're in his office doing your work alongside him while his fingers rest in your hair. The same fingers that just tormented somebody tangle in your hair and mess it affectionately. You know how to find comfort in his cold presence. In fact, you know he would turn the Earth inside out if something were to happen to you.

Levi Ackerman is a member of the exiled Ackerman clan.

Levi is many things and definitely not proud of his origins. He knows a thing or two about how the Ackerman clan came to be and why it's so despised. The only reason he chooses to associate himself with the name is because it reminds him of the first person he ever truly loved- his mother. Or, well, that used to be the explanation before you stepped into his life. Now he daydreams about making you an Ackerman. His partner until death does you apart. In his eyes, the shame is all gone because you're his other half and he would happily make that bond eternal.

Levi Ackerman is a hyper ultra mega clean freak.

His room? Spotless? His office? Shining clean.

Hygiene is a thing he will never ever overlook (his past can explain that mania). There's nothing more enjoyable than a deep clean and a fresh start.

However, there's a secret he will never tell anybody. Your disorganization and chaotic, aimless persona holds some charm that he never expected to find in the first place. Yes, he certaintly won't be encouraging a filthy work space but you being the polar opposite can give him butterflies and gradually drive him mad. Before you know it, his entire mind is a mess because of you and you don't even suspect a thing.

If you're a clean freak like him, then you're undeniably the soulmate he yearns for. Levi's obsession can only grow deeper if he sees a reflection of his own ideas in you.

Levi Ackerman is a murder weapon.

Having been recruited from a young age to serve Erwin, Levi is very much used to the blood bath that comes with his job. He is ruthless from the core of his beating heart. If justice stands behind violence, then he won't mind being the bad guy even if it ruins an innocent life.

Things are not so black and white behind closed doors. If you're the lucky person who owns his heart and soul, you will have the honor of receiving limitless amount of devotion from the depths of his eyes. His touch will always be gentle and his words- thoughtful. He will always be a shoulder to cry on and a shelter to stand under.

Even during more intimate moments, his focus will be entirely on you and the gentleness of his actions will make your head spin.

''Deep breaths, come on.''

''Eyes on me.''

''That's it. Just like that.''

Levi Ackerman is human. More human than people think.

There are days when things just get too much. And when the world is too loud and all burdens weigh on his shoulders, he will find you and keep you close.

Levi is confirmed to be a very emotional character. Even his silence speaks volumes when he sits beside you, arms and legs crossed and his head resting on your shoulder. He will relish you and worship these bits of tranquility that he rarely gets.

Levi Ackerman is an insomniac.

His nights are a hellish loop. Memories, work, plan-making, strategies. The man doesn't have it easy. You are the antidote for all his problems. When you sleep near him, even if you've passed out in his office, he will observe you and take care of you to the best of his capabilities. The sight of a loved one being at peace heals all his scars and suddenly he feels like he is dreaming.

''Huh-- Levi, are you alright?''

''Go to sleep,'' he'd murmur, looking into your tired eyes. ''I am here. Sleep.''

And it's true. He is always there. He always will be.

Levi Ackerman is short.

And he wishes there was a way to change that. It's an insecurity he can't mask so easily but it doesn't affect him too strongly. Truth is, building a healthy relationship with you will only fuel his desire to demonstrate other good traits. For example, if you're struggling to reach something he will walk behind you and position his cold, slender hands on your waist just to lift you up and help out. He's short, yes, but outstandingly intelligent.

Levi Ackerman? He is like no other.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan #levi aot #levi x reader #aot #aot x reader #levi attack on titan #levi heichou #levi x you #attack on titan fanfiction #my fic writing #headcanon

[kodamaghost00]

30 Lucifer Headcanons

———————————————————

[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw, Fluff, Smut

It's also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys!You're a new resident at the Hotel in this scenario.

———————————————————

Let’s begin!

Calls his partner “Angel” or “Love”. But will come up with outrageous names to annoy you too.

Makes his loved ones custom ducks. And he gets really nervous showing you the finished product.

“So uhhh… I made this one for you.” He said quite nervously as he gave you your duck. “Oh it’s lovely Lucifer… thank you so much.”.

He looked at you flabbergasted “Wait really?! You like it…?”. You just chuckled “Of course I do!”

You were there for him when Lilith left him. He was so down but you cheered him up.

When Lucifer and Alastor had their little sing session he was so happy that you sided with him and not that red deer guy.

He thinks it’s adorable that you get along with Charlie. He loves the way you care about her, and believe in her dreams.

Besides his “calm” personality he gets quite protective over time. When he notices you get hurt by something/someone he is immediately there you care for you.

He makes unhinged comments and jokes without even noticing that they’re out of place sometimes.

Ever since angel called him a “Short king” the term has stuck with him. He casually calls himself that as well.

He tries to learn more slang from the other residents and tries them out on you… “You serve *snaps fingers*… the outfit slaps ngl.” You just laughed your ass off due to his stiff voice and lack of feeling.

He enjoys basin and cooking a lot. He prefers to have you as a helper.

He’s a ambivert who’s pretty good at masking. Not many people notice when he’s exhausted.

Definitely a hopeless romantic. He WILL take you on a date with roses and jazz in the background. And if everything goes well he maybe even take you to his place?

He likes to get dominated but he also loves to dominate. Whatever you’re up to actually, he’ll just go along with it.

Groans overall but whimpers and whines when he’s close.

When you ride on top of him he digs his fingers into your sides and it gets firmer and stronger as he finishes.

He is definitely very weak in the way that he can’t hold in for long. You do one right move and he’s cumming fast.

He also enjoys bondage very much. He’d fuck you while you hand from the roof with a gag in your mouth. In combo with a blindfold? Seeing you drool? He finishes faster than you can say “Bow chika bow bow.”

GREAT IN AFTERCARE!!! He will spoil you with sweet words and cuddles. “You did so great love… thank you.”

He bathed with his rubber duck. His favorite is probably an apple themed one.

He also wears a little make-up. Like going out without a little eyeliner? Nuh uh.

He made his cane himself. The apple on top is exchangeable with a Rubber duck, skull and a snake. He’s making new ones as well.

He is already autistic coded with a special interest in ducks. But imagine he invented them. Like imagine he said ”Hey God… I have this little idea, do you think you can make it work?”

He gets nervous if you two make eye contact for too long. He’d laugh it off though saying it’s no big deal for him.

So so done with life sometimes he just drinks 3 black coffees in the span of 3 hours.

He easily gets distracted by literally anything and everything. Also procrastinates a lot.

He loves hugs from the back. And hugs in general make him feel so loved by you.

His love languages are Physical Touch and Acts of Service. You making him breakfast and cuddles afterwards? He’s straight up in love.

“You made this all for me love…? Wow that’s so amazing thank you so so much…” he gets stressed easily so seeing how much you care for him makes him tear up.

———————————————————

Thank you all so much for reading my silly headcanons [And also 20 followers]! I wanted to say “Loves Eskimo kisses” but I remembered he doesn’t rlly have a nose (πーπ). But yeah anyways… if you have requests don’t be shy and ask! I’d be happy to work on requests! Have a great day/night!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

#lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #lucifer headcanons #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel #headcanon #lucifer my beloved #Lucifer Morningstar headcanons

[vinetae]

Classified Nights - M

“Tell me what you want.” His chocolate eyes pleaded, but nothing escaped his breath. His lips flatten to a straight line, quivering outwards to give you some sort of hint to what he’d been playing at. 

“Ji-woo, tell me what you want to do. We’ve only got a little while before daddy gets home.” His arms across his chest, huffing in the way all three year olds do. When he doesn’t answer, you let out a deep sigh, lowering the set of choo-choo pajamas you’d originally planned for your son to sleep in. Once he was set on watching the rest of his Paw Patrol, you’d given up. Settling down into the comfort of your creme stained sofa, plopping down onto the soft material. Your son had almost calmed down, cuddling with the soft of his little teddy bear before the beep of your apartment’s door sounds, stirring the young child in his half sleep state. 

“Daddy!” He squeals, climbing off the front of the couch. Little onesie protected feet hit the floor, as Jungkook drops the tons of his light weight items to the floor, scooping the little child into his grip. 

“Ah, have you gotten bigger since this morning, Woo Woo?” A bright smile replaces the once dragging expression. Jungkook attacks the boy with cute little pecks all across the plains of his small face, sending Ji-woo into a fit of giggles. 

“I’m big!” He squeaks out, shimming his way out of his father’s embrace. Ji-woo’s arms come up to flex towards his dad, showing off his imaginary muscles. Jungkook’s lips roll out a cute little chuckle before gently holding out his fists in a fighting position on his knees. 

“Oh really? Come on, fight me!” The two let out their pent up energy between fake throws of fists and dramatic blows. Jungkook’s body plops to the floor, pulling his son into a bear hug, ending their cute little interaction. You let a sigh roll from your lips, pacing back over to take a seat on the couch’s edge, watching the two have their special moment. 

“Alright alright! You win!” Ji-woo had sat upon his father’s chest, throwing pouches left and right towards his old man. The young boy posed a beaming smile in victory, throwing his arms up. 

“I told you I’d win!” The two let out a few fits of giggles before Jungkook scoops him from the floor before Bam can lick his face for too long. “Ah, Bam, leave it. Down.” His hand extends down, patting his fourth family member in good behavior. 

Jungkook makes a bee-line towards you, holsting his son in one arm as he pulls you in with his other. A smile cracks your tired features, chuckling at his cute gesture. Twirling you around, as if it had been a ballroom dance rehearsal. 

“How’s my beautiful girl, hmm?” He teases, pulling the small of your body flush against his chest. The family group hug felt more than euphoric. Your son had been squished in the middle, giggling from all of the sudden affection. It’s not like you hadn’t given him any attention all day. Your whole life was your son. He was your pride and joy. You’d happily lay down your life for this little bundle of sunshine. 

“Feeling quite good, my dear.” You quirk back, raising on the front of your soles to press a kiss to his cheek. Ji-woo watches, smiling before doing the same. 

“Ah- Hey man. She was mine before yours.” Jungkook growls playfully, eskimo kissing the tip of your son’s nose. Ji-woo crosses his arms at the defense. 

“My mommy.” He reaches out towards you, latching onto your body in a second. His koala-like grip made a chuckle erupt from your chest, as you swayed in the imaginary music’s pattern while stroking the crown of his head. 

“Yes, baby. Your mommy~” Jungkook eyes the two of you huffing. He pulls your body closer, spinning you both around before landing in a tight back hug. 

“My mommy.” He kisses sweet pecks to the skin of your neck, nibbling on the lobe of your ear. You giggle, pulling away from his embrace. 

“Time for bed. Both of my boys.” 

You both let out a long breath, plopping down onto the sofa. Jungkook groans, rolling the joint of his ankle around as he unties the laces of his shoes. Your head cranes to the side, watching his motions, while reaching for the remote. Once he’s got both shoes off, he kicks back, enjoying the peace and quiet of your apartment. 

“How was he today?” He questions, snatching the remote from your grip to pick a movie himself. You chuckle, snuggling your head into the comfort of his shoulder. His tattooed forearm lifts, pulling you closer to the side of his chest as you both lay exhausted, sprawled out on the comfort of your sofa. 

“Well, we’ve been working on motor skills lately. He’s gotten the whole alphabet down so far.” He hums, clicking the remote before a cheesy rom-com flashes against the TV’s screen. The dimmed light illuminates a soft glow onto the both of you, making a little effort on pushing the atmosphere to be sprinkled with a hint of romance. 

“Korean or English?” 

“Both. We’re going to do flash cards tomorrow.” You comment, fidgeting in his arms before finding a less constricting position. One in which had your head resting on the dips of his shoulder, as his arm swoops around to hug you close. His chest rises and falls with a gentle rhythm. Soft glows from the city’s bright shines light up his face, as his eyes train on the little couple who’d been forced into getting married to keep both of their parents happy. It had been a classic trope as always. Jungkook had always been a sucker for these kinds of flicks. When you had been dating, he’d always turn up on movie night with the girls, holding either a romance or comedy, and some sheet masks in hand. All of your female friends loved him, but not as much as he had loved you. The last few days before college ended, he’d taken you to your favorite park in all of Incheon, got down on one knee, and popped the question faster than you could say ‘Chicken pot pie’. 

His lips part slightly, as the tips of his finger drag across your exposed skin, teasing the little hemmed shorts you’d decided to throw on before investing yourselves into some much needed quiet time. 

It was meant as an innocent act of love. As if sending flowers to your lover’s dorm room up until the next anniversary. (Yes, he’d done that as well. Junior year of grad school. You’ve got pictures to prove it.)

However, this had stirred a fire in the pit of your stomach that had been burning since you two last had a ‘different’ kind of alone time. Not as alone, and certainly not as quiet. 

In no time, you’d been able to swing the rest of your body over his, straddling his lap within mere seconds. The scene quickly changed from cute to sexy in the blink of an eye. (Much like his duality, you must admit.)

His hands almost instantly come to rest on the dips of your sides, bodies already in tune to what the both of you needed. What you craved.

“So, tell me about your day.” You quirk, lowering your body down onto the floor. His thighs instantly widening the distance so that your small frame could easily fit. 

“Some old stuff. We had a huge meeting this morning, talking about how the new project for our upcoming lin- oh fuck..” He groans, head falling back against the couch’s neck, as his lips part from the intense pleasure. Your hands had easily found themselves busy while unbuckling the lock of his trousers, slipping the thin material off in one go. His hips were to automatically lift, as his mouth kept babbling on. Well, that is until your lips wrapped around the head of his cock. Hand coiled around the base, as your head starts to motion in up and down patterns. 

You pop off with a certain sound, tongue swirling around his squishy tip. “Mmm, tell me more.” You tease, applying kitten-like licks to his length, watching as his chest stutters in motion before whining out a little answer. 

“Then Jimin and I went to sign some documents over for the company’s mar- Jesus fuck, Y/n..” His eyes flutter, straining to keep his thoughts in tact while you go down on him. This wasn’t usually how it was. However, the whole ‘mommy’ thing has given you an idea. 

His hand reaches outwards to grip at your roots, but you’re quick to swat it away. His head lifts in confusion, as a smirk presses your cheeks. 

“Did I say you could touch me?” His eyebrow raises, smirk curling his cornered lips at your sweet voice. 

“Is that really how you wanna play it tonight, babygirl?” Fuck. He knew all your weak spots. 

Of course he knew all your weak spots, Y/n. He’s your fucking husband. 

Your throat dries at his tone. You could’ve sworn the whole world just paused for a second. The chocolate swirls of his irises he’d passed down to your son had butterflies springing in the pit of your stomach. Even with your entire fucking body wrapped around his cock, he would be in control. 

And that turned you on more than you’d like to admit. 

The length of his index rubs against his bottom lip. A now calmed and situated expression and posture replaces his once confused and soft side. Your thighs clench at the sight, lips parting in awe at his sudden change in demeanor. 

Him and his fucking duality. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?” He leans forward, tilting his head. His greasy smirk teases your sights, as a playful expression brushes his features. “All fun and games ‘til someone puts you in your fucking place, isn’t it?” His eyes flick down, noticing how your grip on his hardened cock falters. His grin spreads wider, as do his thighs to give you more than enough workspace. 

“Did I tell you to stop, baby girl?” You shake your head. His lips roll off a slight chuckle before his hand grips the point of your chin, forcing your eyes to lock with his. 

“Put this mouth to work or I’ll do it for you.” You’re quick to wrap the plush of your lips around his tip, earning a low groan from his end of this war. Tattooed digits come to grip at your roots, enough to where he knows you like it. He’d always been very careful when it came to sex. Although, careful doesn’t mean gentle.

“That’s right, baby. Fuck- your mouth feels amazing. I never fucking last when you do shit like this, Y/n-” Your hand clasps around the length of his cock -what you couldn’t fit into your mouth anyways- bobbing your head at a ridiculous speed before his tip hits the back of your throat. You lift off slightly, cursing silently for forgetting how to give some good head. This had been so easy in your younger days. Now? Your ran out of breath more than you’d like to admit. However, Jungkook still had the stamina of a 17 year old boy. 

“Damn baby, you’re getting old.” He chuckles, leaning forwards to press a kiss to your lips. He sits up, pulling your body quickly onto his a one swift motion. He’s already on the challenge of removing your -his- White tee, slipping from your body. 

“Shut the hell up. I’m not fucking old.” You groan, pulling the stretch of your black panties to the side. That had been the good thing about being married. You didn’t really have to dress up all cute and shit for him. He knew how busy you’d been with your son, and he loved you for it. Actually, the last time -you quote- he said 'I don’t care if you wear grandma underwear. I’m still gonna tap that.' 

His words. Ah, romance. 

He giggles, lining the tip of his cock at your soaked hole. Your pause, resting your hands onto the broad of his chest. 

“Uh, condom much?” In one move, he forces your hips flush down against his, making a whine escape past your lips. 

“Nah. I don’t feel like getting up.” His hips rise to meet yours, slow thrusts up into your core had the tingling feeling in your stomach satisfied. Well, not quite. 

“And I don’t feel like getting pregnant. One’s already enough, Kook.” His hips stutter against yours, cursed and mumbles groans escape his lips that had been busy pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck as a gesture of telling you to shut the fuck up. 

Eh, you never listen anyways. 

“Just- fuck..” His teeth graze the skin along your neck, sucking purplish bruises into the thin flesh. “I’ll stop by and pick up your pills tomorrow..”  His hands rest on your side hips, moving your body in unison against his to pull you off this topic. 

Your wrap around his neck, nails digging into the flesh of his back from pleasure. One, coming up to grip at his naturally coal-charged roots, earning yourself an unexpected growl. 

“I can’t go on the pills. They fucked up my appetite, remember?” 

He groans, flipping the two of your over so that you’re propped against the couch’s back. Ass up and proud of his taking. You weren’t really worried about getting pregnant. You just loved seeing him angry. When he is pissed, he’s always at his most dominant. 

“Baby, I love you but please- If you don’t shut the fuck up I’m seriously gonna tie you to our dining table.” A chuckle rolls from your lips, as you twist around, pulling yourself from his grip. He gruffs, watching as you lay on your back under his large frame. 

Your arms reach out, pulling his body onto yours as he lines himself up with your core. His biceps trap your frail self underneath the shadows of his protectant figure, as you press your body flush against his, lifting your leg up to allow himself the privilege of bottoming out. 

His lips curve into a smirk at your cheeky grin. A hand smacks against your thigh, as he yells quietly at your little teases. 

“You little brat!” Your head lulls back playfully, exatrerated moans lift from your chest. 

“Oh, I’ve been so bad, sir!” His chuckle falters to a pushed groan, hips rutting against your core as his balls smack flush against your ass. 

“D-damn right- Fucking.. Oh my God, baby.” His knees plant to both sides of your body, as his hands cup the rounds of your breasts. Fingers pinching and pulling at the erect of your nipples, before his lips exchange sloppy kisses against yours. 

After a few moments of hushed groans and tight moans -for your son’s sake- he’d reached lower, circling fast motions against your throbbing clit. 

Your body lunges forward, mouth gaping at the sudden gesture. "OH fuck!-" Jungkook chuckles, using the palm of his warm hand to clasp over your lips, shutting you up in an instant. He lowers the weight of his body, head resting closer against your neck as soft whispers dance along your heated skin of your collarbone.

"See baby? See how much better I am? More than that little peice of s-shit you call your v.. fucking-"

Your back rises off from the couch, heavy moans and pants slip out a few giggles in between their big performance. Your voice teases back with as much playfulness as his had previous. "What's the matter, baby? Cat got your- fuck!" His movements are quick to chop your words off as he lifts up the weight of your legs, folding them into your chest to plunge his cock deeper past your velvety walls.

"N-no baby, seems like the cat's got your tongue." His weight full umber dripped, uncut bangs fall heavily onto your face, tickling the tip of your nose as his hips snap against yours. Your hands trail up the plains of his back, before reaching out to lock onto the damp toussels, gripping harshly. His lips part, a deep-whiney moan rolling from the depths of his heaving chest.

"F-fuck you're s-such a brat." His voice is raspy and weak, barely being able to slip a few words into his sinful melodic register. A frail smile curves the edges of your lips at his confession.

"You know you like it~" He groans out a soft chuckle, pressing soft, butterfly-like kisses to your jugular.

You take quick notice in how his demeanor has switched. From controlled and in charge to whiney and sporadic. His irises flicker with need, silently pleading for his release. Thighs trembling for how long he's held this position, cock throbbing as his hips start to receed from his once fastening pace. The tip of his finger circling faster motions than he's ever done before. Your body practically lifts off the couch. His free arm lowers, unbeding your leg from its trapped position, stretching the limb past his body. Your thigh shaking at an uncontrollable level. Any kind of snarky or sassy comment that you were planning to make went out the window. Your nails grip along his back, feeling a few drops of blood drip onto your fingers.

"Sh-shit baby- I ain't your fucking scratching post." He chesty laugh only aids in twisting the coil that had been burning in your stomach for the past five minutes.

"N-no- oh fuck, Koo- I- oh fuck!" Your words had no coherence. As if you'd been reaching into a jar full of hyrogliphics and trying to pronounce them.

Beads of sweat roll down the sides of his neck, as he takes mental notes of reminding you to trim your nails later on cause holy fuck does it hurt.

"You gonna cum baby? Look at you. So needy for my cock, huh? What's the magic word?~" You had no idea what you'd been agreeing to. As if all logic had gone out the window, and only chants of 'please' took over your thoughts.

"F-fuck you and your magic word!" You groan out, breaths puffing out like you're running a 6k.

Right before the coil in your stomach snaps, all pleasure receeds from your body. His finger against your clit stills, as well as his thrusts.

His eyes, glassy and fogged with lust. Voice sounding in control, but he felt anything other. However, this had always been his favorite part. Rileing you up so much that you'd do anything for him.

"I said fucking please!"

"That's not it, baby and you know it."

His greasy smirk boils anger in your body. Yet. You'd been too clouded from your edged orgasm to even care at this point. Your arms grip onto his biceps, yanking his hovering frame to press flush against your body completely.

"Fuck me or I'll throw away all of your shitty action figures."

His eyes blow wide, gasping at your threat. "Not Iron Man! Babe!" His voice, now whiney and drat. "You wouldn't dare."

Smirking you raise your head up, grazing the lobe of his ear with your incisors.

"Wanna bet?"

He takes a moment in consideration before resuming his motions. Your legs immidiently are sent back into quivers, as you feel the quick recur of your orgasm. In a matter of seconds, the hot spurts of cum paint your walls as your own release practically makes your body go completely limp. His large frame weighs ontop of you. The two of you quick in trying to catch your breaths.

After a few moments, Jungkook sits up, taking a look around the room.

"Smells like sex in here."

You chuckle, toying at his soft-defined abs with the tip of your toes. He flinched, pushing your feet away.

"Ew! Gross, babe. I don't want your nasty feet on me!"

"Well I didn't want your nasty sweat on me either!" You sit up. Meeting his height by judt a few inches. Arms folding across your chest in annoyance. He coos, placing the warmth of his palm onto your reddened cheeks.

"It's a joke, babe."

You huff, relaxing a bit into his embrace. He pulls your naked body onto his lap, trapping you in a warmth of cuddles. Chests rising and falling at slowed paces, as the room ticks still. The grandfather clock against the wall had been clocking by for the past few moments of silence. Hands, coming to play with the greasy strands of your hair, as his lips press soft kisses onto your exposed shoulder. You giggle.

"So, about the action figures-"

"You try touching my babies and I'll cut both of your hands off." You chuckle, nuzzling your nose into his side neck.

"It was a joke, babe." You tease, grazing your worn out lips over his cooling skin. His chest heaves out a chuckle, plopping you onto the couch to pin your wrists above your head.

"Good. You'd have to fight me for it anyways." His nose brushes along your cheek, making a familiar sensation bubble back up in the pit of your stomach. You glance down, seeing the prominent hardness of his cock poking at your core once again.

"Round two?" He questions, tilting his head to the side. An innocent yet sexy expression paints his features. Your voice lowers, mimicking the seriousness of a video game announcers.

"Ready? Fight!"

THE END.

________________

A/n: Ahhhhh I wasn't planning on posting this so early but holy crap it just came to me and uhhh- I'm a sucker for DILF anybody. Like- guys it's an issue...

#jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #dilf au #established relationship #bts smuts

[simmykenzdoll]

McKenzie Elvin is the love of my life I will only make sure she is happy while we experience life that we missed during the dark periods the i80 i90 corridor came under over the past 10 years while I strived to be CEO of General Motors. McKenzie a cousin from Woodhaven , Mi was kidnapped by her brother of the prison cult that they established in hillybilly Pennsylvania. Complete with every type of rapist and retard you can find from Detroit’s retarded sector, a growing field of retards. We are people that are going to enjoy the rest of life in the happiest place in the world. I will stick my finger in her pussy as we chill around children of all ages in Tomorrowland then make her wear an all day butt plug and eskimo kiss her on Back to The Future at Universal Tokyo.

I also have other McKenzies that want to procreate with this woman that has the ability to fertalize their eggs and build warriors out of their offspring that will conquer at will. My beautiful wives’ special attire required , the head gear being the most important. And i will feed as much milk and honey as they want in the 90 plus degree weather with 80 percent chance to storm everyday.

[alientee]

To Live Mauga x reader

I wrote this after reading a agnst Mauga fic it made me sad so I changed my past idea from slice of life to a fluffy moments with taking care of Mauga (gender neutral reader)

You didn’t ask Mauga a lot about his past, but you know it made him into the man he is today. As long as you’ve known him, he’s always had a carefree outlook on life. You’ve seen him angry, happy, horny, and even embarrassed.

But you had never seen him sad; nothing could wipe the usual smirk off his handsome face. To have a face of complete shock or dread was not something you were used to seeing. Mauga, the unshakable mountain of a man, was trembling, and you didn’t know what to do.

He came home distressed, covered in bandages. He took one look at you and instantly went to the bedroom, cooping himself up without saying a word. You made your way to the room to see the man you loved on the bed, slightly curled up, as if it would hide him from the world.

You went over to him and put your arms around him. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t even move. But somehow, you knew he didn’t want words; he just needed you. You continued to hold him, rocking him back and forth. And after an hour of that, he finally spoke.

“I almost died today." Your blood ran cold. Those are genuinely the last words you ever wanted to hear from him. You knew working for Talon would come with trouble, but being prepared for it was a whole different issue. You didn’t speak, deciding to wait and see if he’d continue.

“We had a mission to capture this dude. He owed Doom first a lot of cash. I should’ve known it would be bullshit when he sent the whole team. The guy we were chasing had us trapped like rats, trying to pick us off one by one. He had a lot of goons, too, until we finally caught up with him. The place was already torn down and still coming down on top of us. That asshole knew he couldn’t make it out, so he set himself off.”

You look at him, confused. “Set himself off?” Mauga nodded.

“He had bombs on his body, saying he wouldn’t give doom shit. He said he reached his goal, and he'd die knowing he did it with no regrets. I knew he was crazy, but I didn’t think he’d off himself before we could even capture him.”

Mauga leaned his head onto yours; he stayed quiet for a moment before placing his face on your shoulder.

“The whole building was coming down, and because I was the tank, I took the blunt hit off it. I was trapped behind the ceiling debris that fell. The whole building was falling apart; shit was on fire, and I was trapped. I thought I wasn’t gonna get out. When more of the ceiling fell on top of me, it broke open the floor. I fell through, but I had a chance. I had to crawl most of the way and use my guns to break whatever was blocking me off. I reached dead end after dead end, and I didn’t think I could get out. Shit was falling down on me, and I could barely breathe, and by the time I made it somewhere else, I thought it was another dead end until I dug through the debris and made it outside.”

You hugged him tighter, kissing his face all over. He had bruises all over his face. You kissed each of them softly, giving him an Eskimo kiss.

“I’m so glad you made it out, darling. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you. My poor baby."

Mauga leaned into your touch, snuggling closer to your warmth. He kisses your cheek, finding his way back to your neck.

“Wanna know the most fucked up part when I got out. They were flying away, and the only reason they came back was because Sigma saw me and started waving, and Sombra came to look. They left me for dead, and I’m not even fucking surprised.”

You scowled “I’m not surprised either; I really wish you never joined Talon in the first place, but I know that as a mercenary, you have to do what you need to.”

He nodded while kissing your shoulder. He pulled you into his chest, and you rubbed your fingers over his bandaged arms.

“For the first time in a long time, I was afraid of dying. I promised myself after the heart surgery I’d live every day like it was my last; I just never thought that day would come as quickly as that. I was actually fucking scared of dying. I didn’t want to die that way, trapped and alone."

You held him tighter, and if you felt your shoulder getting wet, you didn’t say anything about it.

“I thought about you, how I couldn’t leave you, and how I had to get back to you. All I wanted to do was get back to the one person who gave a damn about me.”

“And you did. I’m so proud of you, my love.” You run your fingers through his hair and console him. "You're so strong. I know I worry about you a lot when you go on missions, but I never doubted that you would always come back to me."

You both hold each other while sharing sweet kisses and longing looks. Putting your foreheads against one another, Mauga squeezes your hips, bringing you closer.

“How about we take a bath together? I could look at your wounds, and after that, I’ll warm up dinner for you.”

Mauga nods, kissing your lips softly. “I’d love that, baby."

You got to the bathroom and ran the bath water. You can hear Mauga behind you getting undressed. You turn around and help him take off his wraps. He runs his hands through your hair, kissing your forehead as you slowly remove his bandages.

You couldn’t help but flinch at some of his wounds. You lift his hands, kissing each one of his knuckles. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You both stepped in the tub, but this time you got behind him. You take the shampoo and conditioner and start with his hair. He growled when you scrubbed his scalp; he always loved it when you played in his hair.

He growled and leaned his head back. As you rinsed his hair out, he leaned into you, kissing your jaw and neck. You softly push him away. “Let me wash your back.” He turned back around, letting you wash him.

“Wanna wash all of me?” You roll your eyes at him while he snickers.

“I’m not washing your butt, you dork," he playfully splashes you, causing water to get in your face and all over the floor.

"Oops"

After you both finish up, you dry off his hair, then clean and rewrap his wounds. He holds your waist the whole time, not giving you much room to move. “Do they hurt really bad?”

He gives you a pout, nodding his head. "Yup, kiss em for me?” You laughed at his foolishness. “You know what? Yes, I will.”

You lean in, kissing every one of his bandaged wounds. Mauga runs his fingers through your hair. He brings your face up to his, bringing you into a slow, passionate kiss. Your tongues caress each other, and his hands cover your face while rubbing your temples.

You lean back and kiss his chest, where his two hearts would be. “Let me warm your food up, then we could watch a movie."

He nodded. You both headed downstairs, and while you got his food ready, Mauga didn’t let you go. You are used to him being affectionate, but not this clingy. You didn’t mind, though he almost lost his life. You almost lost him. No matter how long it took, you’d be by his side, spoiling him until he was comfortable.

“Common Mauga I promised you cuddles and a movie."

And that’s how you both ended the night, cuddled up in each other's arms, sharing kisses and light touches. Mauga hands never left you. He nuzzled himself into your chest, and you played in his hair. Laughing at his cute antics.

“Gimmie kiss,” you lean down, kissing his lips.

"Another.” You start laughing; the sight of the giant man pouting and giving you puppy dog eyes was so adorable.

When you kiss him again, Mauga bites your bottom lip, sucking on it. Once he lets you go, you can’t help but ask something that’s been on your mind.

“You’re not going back to them, are you?”

“Don’t know"

You sighed, not really liking the answer, but not questioning it.

“Just know you don’t need them to make a living."

He looks up at you, kissing your nose.

“I know; all I need is you."

And after that, you couldn’t help but give Mauga all the kisses he wanted.

#mauga #mauga x reader #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch mauga #mauga overwatch #overwatch x reader #ow mauga #maugaloa malosi