#big Rick black

[bayetea]

a lot of people hate the hazel mist magic stuff and I won't deny that it was developed and implemented very weirdly but I actually really appreciate that it's partially connected to marie levesque who mind you summoned the lord of death/riches through her own powers. he didn't just meet her on the street and fall in love like other mortals parents she summoned a big three god to come directly to her (and then he fell for her afterwards). thusly it wasn't some late game add-on it was established very early in hoo that marie already had mystical powers of some kind based on new orleans gris-gris traditions and exploring that for hazel is pretty cool actually and makes sense! 👍

(also something something about frazel parallels where they both have special gifts that stem from their chinese/african heritage and not their godly fathers 😌)

for me the thing about it that sucks isn't that it's inherently bad or op as a lot of people seem to think (look me in the eyes and tell me that hazel is written on the page as more op than the likes of percy. rick limits her powers so much still even tho imo big three kids have a right to be op) it's that hazel's magic appears primarily tied to hecate and greek/roman mist magic instead of louisiana-haitian vodou influences (haitian vodou/louisiana voodoo are actual religions that have some key distinctions from each other, I'm just saying that rick could have drawn from either/both of them more when establishing hazel's powers). hecate mentioned marie explicitly when explaining why hazel has potential with magic but it's still pretty much all about nebulous greek/roman magic instead of new orleans-specific magic. let hazel levesque practice voodoo and cast hexes and work with spirits she deserves it (she is already a daughter of pluto so the connection to spirits should be there!!!)

[strangersteddierthings]

Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

Steve climbs into the back of Nancy's car with Dustin, trying his best to play off his mood as having slept poorly in the Wheeler's basement, instead of the guilt and sorrow churning inside him. He had been hoping to be able to make excuses to go home for a bit today, away from the group, so he could go to Chrissy's funeral.

Doesn't seem like that will be happening. Not unless he tells them the truth. They're going to the Creel house and Steve can't let them ago without him. Can't let them walk into potential danger if he's not there.

Because Chrissy's already dead. He can't change that. But he can try his damnedest to make sure there's no one else. So, it's more important to him to be there with the living, than at a funeral. Chrissy would agree.

Chrissy would understand.

Right?

Gareth sits through Chrissy's funeral and notes that Steve's not there. No one from the Harrington household is. He doesn't know what to feel about that. All his sorrow has been spent on Chrissy, so all he feels for Steve is anger. What the fuck is more important to Steve right now than being here? For his family. For Chrissy. For him.

He sits next to Jason even though his mom left a spot next to her available for him. He's not suddenly Jason's best friend, but he was told they plan to continue their search immediately after the funeral, and if he sat next to his mom, she wouldn't let him go.

This is how he finds himself at Reefer Ricks, long past the mandated curfew with just Jason, Andy, and Patrick. The others having slowly dropped off the search the closer to night it got.

"Hey," Gareth calls out to Jason before entering the house, "I'm going to go check if Eddie's van is hidden where he usually parks it when he comes out here."

Jason pauses on his way through the door. He looks over his shoulder and gives a nod, "yeah, smart thinking. There should be a flashlight in the back of the car."

Gareth nods back and heads back to the car. It doesn't take long to find the flashlight and soon he's walking down the road. It's not a long walk, about fifteen minutes away is a cluster of trees that Eddie parks at when he comes to get more goods from Rick. Gareth (and their other friends) spent plenty of afternoons waiting in the van for Eddie to return from his 'job', as it were. It does keep the van out of sight of any road, though.

The van is there, and Gareth doesn't like what he sees. The driver side door is open, so he approaches slowly. "Eddie? You in there, Eddie?" he gets no response. He shines the flashlight through the back door's window, smooshing his face against the glass to look in. Once he's sure it's empty of anything, he approaches the open door and examines the front.

The keys are still in the ignition. Door left open and keys still in the ignition paints a story Gareth isn't sure he wants to read. That makes worry curl inside his body. He can't think of a single thing that would make Eddie abandon the van this quickly, too... scared? Worried? to bother to even close the drive door. He climbs in to try and start it but it won't. With the door left open for over 72 hours, the battery is dead.

He pockets the keys and locks up the van. If worse comes to worst, he can return the keys to Wayne.

He's almost back to the house when he hears shouting. He starts running, following the noise, and quickly finds Jason and Patrick on the shore, pulling their shoes off. His gaze flicks out to the lake and catches the sight of what can only be Eddie trying to get the motor of a motorboat started.

Well. Shit.

He doesn't think much more beyond that. He's just acting. He steps on the heels of his shoes to get out of them as quickly as possible and dives into the water. He's only seconds behind Patrick and Jason into the water, slowing to keep pace with them at first.

Gareth grew up in the Harrington swimming pool just like Steve had. Chrissy had. He's never been so glad for that as he is now, as he quits trying to pace himself and takes off, leaving Jason and Patrick behind.

Eddie's swinging the oar around wildly, as if they would stop any of them. He falters in his swinging when his eyes land on Gareth and he breathes out his name, "Gareth?"

One final stroke and Gareth can reach out of the water and grab the side of the boat. He doesn't haul himself aboard, but does haul himself high enough to look up at Eddie. "The police say you did it. Did you?"

Hurt flashes across Eddie's face but he answers, "No."

Gareth nods once, a decision made. Before he can respond though, Jason's caught up and Eddie is turning in the boat to wave the oar uselessly at him.

Clinging to the side of the boat gives Gareth a clear view of Patrick, who has stopped swimming. Jason and Eddie shout at each other as Gareth watches Patrick being to rise out of the water. "What the fucking shit!?"

Gareth doesn't know if Jason turns to look, he's too busy staring, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"Don't look," Eddie says and the boat jostles as Eddie moves suddenly, dropping to his knees in the boat and throwing his hands up to block Gareth's view.

"What the fuck-" Gareth cuts himself off when he hears the snapping of bones. Jason is yelling and Gareth panics, pushes back from the boat, which makes Eddie lean more to block his eyesight, causing Eddie to fall out of the boat. On instinct, Gareth dives for him, the month and month spent in Steve's pool, hearing about pool safety kicking in.

Eddie doesn't really need rescuing, but he doesn't fight Gareth during the rescue. Patrick is no longer in the air when they breach the surface, and Jason is swimming back the way they came. Eddie flops himself back into the boat, then helps Gareth in as well.

They don't speak again until they've reached the other shore, in which case they just sit in the boat, soaked through, panting at each other as the adrenaline fades.

"What the fuck was that!?" Gareth doesn't shriek. He doesn't.

Eddie suddenly looks very severe and grim when he says, "that's what killed Chrissy."

[warhead]

[dailyrickastley]

From book "The Ministry of Pop", photo by Paul Rider

[sysig]

He’s my little meow meow, my darling, my bbygirl (Patreon)

[takemetoasummereve]

Girls, I have a confession… I don’t like Rick Owen

[grillz-godz]

ABOUT THE CULTURE OF HIP-HOP WITH TEETH GRILLZ

Hip-hop culture is a vibrant and influential movement that encompasses various elements, including music, fashion, dance, and art. One of the most prominent aspects of hip-hop culture is its unique fashion sense, which often involves the use of flashy and eye-catching accessories. Among these accessories, grillz, also spelled grills, have become an iconic symbol associated with hip-hop and rap artists.

Grillz are decorative dental accessories worn over the teeth. They are typically made of precious metals like gold, silver, or platinum and often adorned with diamonds or other gemstones. Grillz are custom-made to fit an individual's teeth and can be removable or permanently attached. They are used as a way to express personal style, wealth, and status within the hip-hop community.

The history of grillz can be traced back to ancient times when people used to decorate their teeth with various materials. For example, in ancient Etruscan and Mayan cultures, people would insert gemstones or seashells into their teeth to enhance their appearance. However, the modern grillz we see today originated in the hip-hop scene of the 1980s.

It is believed that the trend of wearing grillz began in New York City during the early days of hip-hop. Artists like Rakim, Slick Rick, and Big Daddy Kane were among the pioneers who started sporting gold and diamond-encrusted dental accessories. These early adopters helped popularize grillz as a symbol of success and extravagance within the hip-hop community.

In the 1990s, the trend spread further with the emergence of Southern hip-hop, particularly from cities like Houston. Rappers like DJ Screw, Paul Wall, and Lil Wayne became known for their elaborate and often exaggerated grillz. This regional influence brought grillz into the mainstream consciousness and solidified their association with hip-hop culture.

Grillz continued to gain popularity throughout the 2000s and 2010s, becoming a staple accessory for many hip-hop artists. Not only did they serve as a status symbol, but they also became a form of self-expression and creativity. Rappers like Nelly, T-Pain, and Kanye West were known for their unique and intricate grillz designs, further cementing the trend's place in hip-hop culture.

In recent years, grillz have transcended their hip-hop roots and have become a fashion statement embraced by people from various backgrounds. Celebrities outside the music industry, such as athletes and actors, have been seen sporting grillz at red carpet events and public appearances. The fashion industry has also taken notice, with designers incorporating grillz-inspired elements into their collections.

While grillz have evolved and become more mainstream, they still maintain their connection to hip-hop culture. They continue to represent individuality, confidence, and a desire to stand out from the crowd. The appeal of grillz lies in their ability to convey personal style and create a visually striking statement, making them an enduring symbol of hip-hop's influence on fashion and self-expression.

[thewildbelladonna]

Fleetwood Mac photographed at the MTV Video Music Awards at Universal Amphitheatre in Universal City, California, September 11th, 1987.

[yourfourthparent]

something interesting about dick riordan is how he never compares white characters to food in physical descriptions but when a character of colour is white passing he still finds a way to compare them to food. it won't be about their skin but it'll be about their hair or their eyes. and yet he doesn't do it with white folks. huh. i wonder why that is (sarcastic).

[charliesinfern0]

i think you're really cool, and your art is really inspiring. i love seeing you post and it makes me super happy!! also your gorillaz OC is dope as fuck. ngl when i think of gorillaz i think of your oc being part of the band too haha :D

OMG ty!!! thats so nice :D

[daydreamerdrew]

All-Select Comics (1943) #11

[barnbridges]

people who dont listen to hiphop discussing raygun shows because some of yall just say "how can you understand something but not get it" if you think sydney has a breaking culture, you have diluted the concept of culture so much you shouldnt be allowed to speak 😭

[mistrustmusic]

Co-op Live Arena Concerts Postponed

Mistrust says “Come to Warrington instead!” Following the news that the new 23,000 seat Co-op Live Arena in Manchester has postponed its opening until May, there’s still a chance to go and watch other live acts this weekend. One of these will be from Bolton-based pop singer Mistrust, who will be playing on the Big Condo Records Tour 2024 First Lap at Peggy McCool’s in Warrington on Sunday 28th…

[loverboybitch]

rick owens kiss heels via @/imissyoumanvintage on instagram.//.

[daryltwdixon]

Kinktober #6

Cockwarming

warnings: smut, dirty talking daryl

notes: kind of a long one! 2.4k words, Alexandria, established relationship

It’s one of the hottest days ever since summer broke in Alexandria, and you’re headed over to grab tools from the garage where Daryl works on his bike all hours of the day when he’s not out doing only god knows what. 

“Hey,” you breathe, catching your breath as you step into the messy garage. The smell of cigarette smoke fills the air, thick and stifling. Daryl takes a drag from his cigarette, the small stick dangling between his lips as he watches you. His eyes follow your every move as you make a beeline for the shelves at the far end of the room. You’re wearing a pair of shorts that are definitely on the shorter side, paired with a worn tank top that clings to your skin in a way that draws his gaze. He knows you’ve always preferred to be braless, and today is no exception as his eyes linger on your chest moving with every step. 

Daryl makes a mental note that he most definitely missed the summer heat when he sees you without the multiple layers winter and early spring required.

You reach up toward the top shelf, straining for a box of screwdrivers that’s just out of reach. As you stretch, your shirt rides up, exposing the small of your back. Daryl’s eyes zero in on the exposed skin, his gaze lingering without shame, while you remain blissfully unaware, biting your lip in concentration.

Unable to just stand there and watch any longer, Daryl moves closer. With a quick, effortless motion, he reaches up and grabs the black toolbox from the top shelf, handing it to you.

You lean back on your heels, realizing how close he’s gotten. “Thanks, big guy,” you say with a half-smile, taking the cool metal box from his hand. He grunts in response, the cigarette still perched between his lips as he stares down at you.

Without hesitation, you reach up to brush his hair out of his face, your fingers grazing his warm skin. “See you at home,” you whisper, looking up at him under your lashes. As you rise onto your toes, you press a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, just beside where the cigarette rests. When you pull back, there’s a tinge of pink staining his cheeks. 

You carefully make your way through the debris on your way out, and you’re just about to step into the air outside when Rick suddenly appears in the doorway, blocking your exit. The abrupt collision causes your chest to bump into him, and his hands instinctively reach out to steady you, still keeping you pressed against him. His gaze locks onto yours for a brief moment, suddenly holding you back at arm’s length before his eyes drop lower, lingering a second too long on your tank top and shorts. He clears his throat awkwardly, quickly releasing you as he shifts his attention to Daryl, who’s still watching from across the room.

“See you later, Officer,” you laugh, embarrassed, and slip past him with a playful grin.

—--

Later that night, the bed dips beside you as the pale moonlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow on the blankets. You’re curled up, but sleep never really finds you until Daryl crawls into bed beside you. The familiar warmth of his body slides under the covers, his presence enveloping you in his scent. You hum as you twist your neck around, your hand coming up to his face to kiss him in greeting. He returns the kiss gently, a soft sigh passing between you. When he pulls back, he doesn’t stray far, letting his lips trail down your neck, leaving a line of slow, deliberate kisses that end where your neck meets your shoulder. Goosebumps rise along your skin, his touch igniting a mix of comfort and desire. 

His arms wrap around you, strong and sure, his hands wandering over your chest with a sense of urgency that’s hard to miss. “Dare,” you whisper, starting to grasp the intensity of his touch. He hums in response, his voice a low rumble against your throat while his hair tickles your skin as he lets his teeth graze your shoulder in a gentle bite.

You gasp softly, the sensation unexpected. Your hands move to find him, surprise causing you to grip onto his hands.

“Mm mm,” Daryl murmurs in objection, his arms tightening around you, his grip possessive and firm. His fingers find your nipples through the fabric of your shirt, pinching gently but with intent. You squirm under his touch, a mix of pleasure and frustration making you wriggle, but his hold only grows stronger.

“This damn shirt,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “Had me thinkin’ about ya all day, wearin’ this thing.”

A small, teasing smile tugs at your lips, but it’s fleeting as you try to turn and face him, eager to see his expression up close. Daryl, however, is having none of it. His chest remains pressed firmly against your back, his hold adamant. You can feel the unmistakable hardness of him growing against you as you press back into his lap. He lets out a deep, guttural groan when you push yourself into him, his hand sliding down to grip your thigh firmly. It’s a mix of urgency and need, and though you’re still caught in his hold, there’s a raw tenderness in the way he touches you, his breath hot against your ear.

“You’ve been bad,” Daryl growls in your ear, his teeth nipping lightly at the lobe. You let out a small yelp, your mind scrambling to understand what you’ve done to earn his teasing.

“I didn’t do anything—” you start, but your words are cut off as his hand delivers a light slap to your thigh. His fingers slip beneath the bend of your knee, lifting your leg slightly to spread you open. You only ever sleep in a shirt and underwear for comfort, so the feeling of his fully clothed body pressed against the thin fabric is enough to drive you wild.

“You were such a damn tease, comin’ into the garage like tha’, bouncin’ around like a little slut in your tiny shorts n’ this stupid excuse for a shirt,” His words send a shiver down your spine, and you instinctively keep your leg up, wrapping your ankle around the back of his leg to keep him close. His hands continue to travel then, pulling at your shirt until it comes down far enough that your tits fall out of the top. 

“Daryl–!” but his hand roughly grabs them, kneading both tightly in one solid, large hand. You’re gasping at the sudden shift in demeanor, welcoming the hunger in him. He twists your nipple between the rough pads of his fingers, eliciting a moan from you as he pulls and teases them. 

“Such a fuckin’ tease,” he groans into your shoulder, biting down on you, “ya know what little girls who tease get, don’t ya?”

You shake your head vigorously, but it only barely hides the fact that you really want him to say what in fact happens to those who tease Daryl Dixon.

His hands are suddenly on your waistband, pulling your underwear off as he allows your leg to lay flat as he pulls them down. When they’ve been discarded, he balls them up in his hand, pressing them to his face, groaning loudly into the fabric of your scent. The sight alone is enough to elicit another moan from you, but it’s stifled as he tightly stuffs them into your open mouth, gagging you with your own panties.

“They get punished,” he says, lifting your leg again from the knee, “Now get mah cock out for me like a good girl,” he rasps against your neck. His accent always drawled out slower and thicker the more turned on he got, and you couldn’t reach back fast enough. He doesn’t let you turn around however, so your fingers travel along his pants to find his zipper while all along his lips are on your neck, shoulders, ear–biting and sucking and licking impatiently. Your mind is short circuiting, hands fumbling along the front of him. Finally, you manage to blindly pull down his zipper, and push his pants down a fraction. It’s enough to reach your hand in, your fingers finding the hot throbbing member below. You gently pull it out of its confines, thumb grazing the hot head of him, precum spreading as you gently circle his tip. His teeth bite harder into you as he grunts, and you moan around the fabric in your mouth. He lets go of your leg for just a moment to line himself up with you, and it's no surprise to feel his cock glide easily along your slick wet entrance. 

“Mmmm always ready for me, ain’t tha’ right?” he growls, and slowly pushes into you. Your eyes roll back, neck arching against him as he enters you, stretching your walls out so perfectly it's like you’re being filled to the brim. When his cock bottoms out in you, and you feel his balls pressing against you, surprise flits across your cock drunk brain when he doesn’t start moving right away. Your eyes open as you try to turn to him, and he chuckles darkly when you try to move your hips.

“Nuh, uh baby,” he says softly, cooing at you, “This is all you get. Bad girls who tease, flirt, and press their tits up against their man’s best friend don’t get to have fun,” 

Amazement briefly flickers across your mind by how talkative Daryl is today. You’ve noticed before that his walls tend to crumble when he’s deep in the moment with you, but this—this is a whole new level. The way he’s talking now, low and filthy, feels like both a confession and a delicious form of torture. 

His hand comes up to your face to pull your panties out of your mouth, but before you can say anything, he pulls your mouth to his, craning your neck. He kisses you so deeply you can’t help but grind against him. But then, the crack of his fingers against your bare clit makes you jolt.

“Don’t move,” he growls against your lips. You whine and whimper, but he doesn’t give in, and you can feel his cock pulsating inside of you. His hand gently comes up to your face to trace your cheek as his kisses become gentle, slow, and he pulls away just inches from your mouth. 

“Your pussy is so needy, tryna pull me in deeper, suckin’ my cock dry without even havin’ to fuck ya, hunny,” he says, almost so endearingly like he’s complimenting how pretty your eyes look today, “now cum on my cock,”

The growl surprises you as he brings his fingers back down to your center, the rough pads of his two fingers teasing and circling your clit, prodding and pressing so delicately, it’s like he knows every single nerve in your bundle to get you to the brink of pleasure within minutes. He’s spent so long studying you—what makes you shiver, what makes your eyes roll back, what drags his name from your lips like a desperate, guttural plea.

“Please, Daryl, please,” you manage to whisper, “I promise to be good, I promise,” you’re so desperate for him to move you’d say about anything in this moment.

“Yeah?” he coos, “You’ll be a good girl for me?”

You nod vigorously, your hand coming up to cup his neck as you hold onto him for dear life, and his fingers pick up pace. He’s rubbing you and pulling back the hood of your clit to press his fingers down, and you nearly choke on your moans that come from within, arching into him as he brings you to the peak of your climax. 

“Come on, pretty girl, cum for me,” he gravels into your ear, and your pussy constricts around him as the pleasure of your orgasm releases through you, the shivers of it running up your back and down your legs as you come undone around his cock as he remains unmoving inside of you.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, feeling every single twitch and pulse of your pussy enveloping him through your high. As you come down, however, you feel even more desperate and wanton than before.

“Pleeease,” you whine, so intoxicated and helpless in his arms. His breath is hot and heavy over your neck and side of your face, breathless as he chuckles again.

“Careful what you wish for, baby,” he whispers, and he pulls back agonizingly slow, but the movement is enough to pull a deep, ravenous moan from your throat. But you nearly choke on it as he snaps his hips into you hard. You nearly fall forward, his arms wrapping tightly around you, not allowing you to move any further away from him as he continues relentlessly fucking you from behind. He’s growling and grunting incoherently in your ear, hair sticking to your sweaty face. His cock nearly feels like it’s splitting you in half as he keeps up his onslaught of thrusts. The arm that wraps under you, keeping you in place, stays tight against your stomach, but the arm over you reaches down, his fingers pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit. You’re moaning and mewling and screaming so loudly, mixing with his whimpers and breathless growls, the vibrations sending more chills down your spine as you convulse against him. Your pussy clenches down on him as you release your second growing orgasm, the explosion of pleasure ripping through you as he thrusts into you, letting you chase your high until he can no longer take it. He pulls back one more time before burying his cock in you and cumming so deep you swear you can nearly feel him bottoming out in your stomach. 

You’re both utterly breathless as he keeps a hold of you from behind. His arms loosen as you both catch your breath, and he pulls out of you, letting you turn around and hook your hands around his neck. 

“So sorry I distracted you all day,” you smile up at him.

He hums, arms wrapping back around you as he pulls you into his chest, his lips finding yours with lazy ease. “Don’t be,” he murmurs against your mouth, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe you could wear those short again tomorrow,”

[holdmytesseract]

... what the future holds ...

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: One look at Maggie's ultrasound picture is enough to question your future - and Daryl's...

Warnings: fluff, suggestive smut (it gets really spicy), talks of babies

Set in Season 6!

Word Count: 1,4k

a/n: Lil' story is done! This was planned to be a drabble, but well... 😆 I love how it turned out, though!

Right up your alley, @dixons-sunshine ? 🤗

Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist °☆• Echoes of Hope Masterlist

The van jolted softly underneath your body, as you leaned against Daryl, who was sitting beside you; head resting against his shoulder. You were on the verge of sleeping in, when he suddenly gently squeezed your upper arm with the hand he had wrapped around your shoulders. Tiredly, you lifted your head and looked up to him; blinking. Daryl didn't say a word and just nodded at his hand, who held out a little quadratic picture to you.

Sitting up a bit, you took from Daryl's whatever it was he was handing you. Since you had been on the threshold to dreamland, your brain needed a moment to catch up and grasp what you were looking at...

It was an ultrasound picture.

Lifting your gaze, you were met with a smile from Glenn, who sat opposite you. You couldn't help but to smile back at your friend, before you took another proper look at the picture - at the future. You positively couldn't wait for another wonder after Judith to join the big family everybody had grown into. Sure, the world was dangerous, but had it ever not been dangerous? Of course in different kinds of ways, but nevertheless...

You ran your thumb over the picture; so engrossed in the miracle you were looking at, that you didn't notice Daryl watching you. He saw the never-ceasing smile on your lips. The happiness radiating off of you. The shimmer in your eyes - and perhaps, the archer had detected something else... Longing. Something that threw him quite a bit off track and caused his heartbeat to quicken.

You took a last look on the precious, life-changing picture and handed it on to Abraham, who took it from you with a small smile himself. Then you slid back into Daryl's embrace; resting you head against his shoulder once more. This time, though, you were facing him with a smile. One corner of your boyfriend's mouth twitched up into a soft smile as well.

Words were never exchanged. He just gave you another squeeze and pulled you closer.

The first word you spoke with each other was that night after the meeting Rick had convened. It was already quite late; almost midnight.

You were laying in bed and reading a book; secretly watching Daryl undress. He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped out of his shoes and jeans with a grunt - and you noticed immediately that the feeling you already harboured in the church was resurfacing... Something was on his mind. You just couldn't pinpoint what it was – yet...

Once undressed to his black underpants, he slipped inside the bed and underneath the sheets; making himself comfortable beside you on his back, hands crossed behind his head and eyes directed at the ceiling.

You watched him for another moment in silence, before you decided to make your move. Putting the book aside, you slowly inched closer and placed a hand on his cheek; letting his scruff tickle your palm, as you propped your chin up on his biceps. "Daryl... What's bothering you, huh? Tell me." "Nothin'. 'S jus'..." The archer shook his head slightly, before his blue-grey eyes settled on yours. "I... I saw the way yer were lookin' at tha' picture..."

You frowned a little bewildered. "You mean Maggie's ultrasound picture?" Daryl nodded; chewing on his lower lip. You raised an eyebrow and smiled softly. "Why? How was I looking at the picture?" You saw the love of your life swallowing hard; trying to scrape all his bravery together and say the word out loud.

"Longingly. Ya looked at tha' picture longingly, 'n..." He stopped to take a deep breath. "N now I ain't gettin' that damn thought outta ma head." "Which thought?" You asked as you gazed deeply into his eyes; trying to read him.

"Tha'... Tha' yer might, uh, wan' this, too..." The archer finally said; gnawing on his thumb now. "I-I mean settlin' down, 'n, uh... Start a family..." His voice was barely above a whisper and his cheeks held a deep crimson colour. He avoided your eyes; breaking eye contact.

As for you, you felt like your heart had just skipped several beats. Not just one... "Wha'?" You almost croaked out. "Y-You mean... Having a-a baby?" Daryl nodded hesitatingly. "Yeah, uh, would ya... Would ya wan' tha'?" "Would you?" You shot immediately back; not answering his question.

Once again was the man biting his lip; the gears in his head turning - you could tell. After a long moment of silence, he shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Dunno, darlin'. I... 'M not exactly daddy material, ya know. 'S not in ma nature. Didn't have a good role model after all..." "I have to stop you right here, Dar..." You shook your head and moved to prop yourself up on your elbow; palm gliding from Daryl's cheek, down his neck and stopping on his chest. "You haven't noticed, have you?"

The archer blinked; clearly not following your words. "Notice wha'?"

A soft smile spread over your face. "How good you are with Judith. How sweet and caring. You're perfect daddy material, Dar... In my opinion anyways."

Daryl said nothing, was apparently speechless. He just looked at you for an seemingly endless moment, before he found his voice again. "Ya never answered ma question, Y/N..." He whispered. "Would ya wan' tha'?" Your eyelids fluttered as a blush crept on your cheeks. "I-I... Yes. I always... wanted kids." Your boyfriend swallowed hard; deft, calloused fingers scratching his goatee covered chin. "A'right, lemme rephrase tha'..." He said and took a deep breath; voice trembling slightly. "Would ya... Would ya wan' tha' with... with me?"

Once again tugged a smile at the corners of your mouth; your eyes gazing deeply into Daryl's as your fingertips gently caressed the skin on his chest. "Daryl... I wouldn't want that with any other man in this world. Only you. There has always been only you." "Yeah?" Daryl croaked out. "Ya ain't jus' sayin' that so I dun feel bad?" You couldn't help but giggle and shake your head again. "No, you sweet idiot. I'm not. I really would want that with you. I love you, Daryl."

The archer lifted a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear; the other landing on your hip. "Yeah, I love ya, too." You smiled and dipped your head to slot your lips perfectly against his; kissing him leisurely. Only a few seconds passed, before Daryl's other hand travelled to your hips as well; biceps bulging softly as he pulled you closer, until you ended up on top of him. Both bare legs straddling his sides and lips still connected.

Soon enough started Daryl's hands to wander once more and slipped underneath your sleep t-shirt; feeling your soft skin underneath his palms - and that was the moment you pulled back from the kiss, before this went any further.

The archer's hands immediately stilled on your ribs; mere inches away from the swell of your breasts as you silently stopped this. Blue-grey eyes looked up at you; clouded with desire, love, worry and a touch of insecurity. "Everythin' a'righ', darlin'?" Daryl's husky voice urged to your ears. You nodded and twisted your bottom lip between your teeth, as you sat back on your heels - and Daryl's crotch, which caused a low grunt to escape his lips, alongside a muttered curse. "Damnit, woman..." "You never answered my question either, Dar," you prompted; completely ignoring the obvious and instead tracing the tattoos on his chest with the tip of your pointer finger. "Would you want to start a family? With me?"

The man underneath you clearly had a hard time focusing and setting his thoughts straight, but once he did, another soft blush spread across his cheeks. "W-Well, if, uh, if tha's somethin' ya wish for, I-" You shook your head and pressed your pointer finger against his lips; shushing him. "Uh.Uh. I asked what you want. This isn't just about me."

Daryl just looked at you again, then started to nod softly. "I won't lie to ya, darlin'... The mere thought of becomin' a daddy scares the shit outta me, but... Yeah... Yeah, I can imagine startin' a family with ya." "You sure about that, Dar? You don't just say that to please me?" You teased him, just like he did earlier. The archer just scoffed. "Nah. I mean it." You couldn't help but giggle and lean down to kiss his nose - what interpreted the archer as an invitation to catch your lips with his.

Daryl smiled; fingertips starting to map out the dips and curves of you body once again. When he reached the back of your bare calves, he stopped and gently nudged his nose against yours; breaking the kiss you shared. "Does tha' mean we, uh, start tryin' for a baby now?" You shrugged your shoulders and gave his sides a little squeeze with your legs. "You tell me."

Tags: @celtic-crossbow @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @mischief-dream @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @sweetz1919 @0-aubrie0 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @stiveroon @cakesandtom