#carl x plus size reader

[thewritersaddictions]

Requests: Rick Grimes- That Girl

Pairing: Rick Grimes x Y/n Dixion

Pov: Reader / 3rd pov

Warnings: Season 3, Death, protective sibling, motherly attention, fluff.

Summary: Rick takes solace in the youngest Dixion after Lori passes.

WC-1.2k

A/n- @firefly-graphics for dividers

The Walking Dead Master List // The Law Master List // Request Master List

I could see the way Maggie looked as she walked out of the prison door. Carl's hands bloody and his knife just barely dangling his hand. The silence was grand and the only thing we all looked at was the baby in Maggie hands. Daryl was close by me, his eye scanning over Ricks face. Rick was trying his hardest to not fall apart, all while the only true amount of his family had just killed his wife and was a new born.  

Things were getting real, too fast and all to soon in the world we now lived in.  

Rick just barely stumbled over to Maggie, the baby in her arms was still covered in blood and just cooed as she was moved between arms. From then on out everything seemed to change for me and Rick. I tried my hardest to keep a close eye on the Grimes kids. But there was something that I couldn’t put my finger on.  

It didn’t take long for Rick to notice how closed I had gotten with the kids. Even Maggie had mentioned “You’re getting pretty comfy with the kiddos.” She said as I changed Judith. I didn’t look over my shoulder, but I do agree with her in a soft hum. My eyes staying trained on Judith her wiggling her arms, and legs. The coolness of the prison isn’t great for the little one.  

Carl on the other hand didn’t really want a new person in his life just for them to be taken from him like his mother was. So, he had guarded himself. From Rick and every other person around, I tried to be a comfort for Carl. Even Rick.  

It took a while though for the boys to come around. Rick had settled his way into my cell, almost every night he’d walk in gun on his hip and a growing smile on his face. He had become more open with me about things. The late nights we spent talking he missed his wife, but he was glad that his son and daughter were here. He was happy that he’d kept us alive as long as he had.  

We become each other solace. The only one we knew that we could relive on in the heat of the battle. I would say that my brothers were always there, but sometimes that was even hard to say. The reality of it was that Daryl was a quiet and reserved person, and Merle well he was my older brother but he was a straight up asshole. Merle knew that, so did everyone else here at the prison.  

And as the weeks went on things between Rick and I just started to feel normal. We felt the same on so many levels, but things changed when Merle didn’t come back one day. I could feel the difference, Daryl face was different. Rick trailed behind him; a sad expression laid on his face.  

“Y/n, we have something that you need to know.” Darly said his voice low and almost on the verge of tears. I stood frozen, my eyes franticly moving from Daryl to Ricks face. “Where’s Merle?” I asked finally the silence too much for me to bare. Neither boy could manage to look at me. “Rick? Daryl?” I tired.  

The way my heart fell into my stomach, when Rick said that Merle was dead, a zombie that Daryl had to kill. I nearly fell to the ground my legs giving out on me. Daryl couldn’t look at me, and Rick was right there at my side.  

We had lost a lot over the years before the zombie came, but now we had even lost more. Finally, I think I understood a tad bit of the pain that Rick experienced when Maggie walked out with his two kids and no Lori. Rick hugged me deeply. His fingers making or least trying to make comforting circles into my skin. My sobs echoed around the small concrete walls of the prison. Carl and almost everyone else came out of their respective rooms. It was becoming a scene, and it was harder knowing that I was being watched.  

Rick swooped me away, his arms supporting under my knees as he walked towards my cell. That night Rick stayed with me, in his arms I stayed. A tear-stained shirt that Rick wore wasn't ruined but it felt like everything was happing to fast. My brother was gone and now life couldn’t get any worse.   

From then on out I spent my time in the garden that Rick had built. It was a sad start, but a start nonetheless. Rick visited me every morning when I made my way out into the fresh air. Sometimes I’d even grab Judith early in the morning and take her out there with me.  

She was always in my eye line. She’s sleep most of the morning before waking up when her father came down to visit me for the first time that morning. I planted veggies, and tired my hardest to find flowers. Something, well anything to spruce the place up. I think Rick enjoyed the way that I tried to get away from the pain of my oldest brother.  

Enjoyed might be the wrong word, it was more like Rick admired me for my ability, a small ability that I was able to push those drastic and horrible emotions to tend to things that grew, and that were growing.  

Within that time things become better, yes, we lose more then we win. But we are together. Carl begins to enjoy the time we spend together; he’s always asking to go on trips to track down more important things. He doesn’t openly say that he enjoys that time. I can tell he does, “You must know that Carl adores the time you guys spend together.” Rick mentioned. It had taken months and yes, I had come to realize it but Carl wasn’t about to say those words outside. “Rick, you know that I’m aware of that, but I we both know that Carl won’t be admitting any of what you have said.”  

Regardless of that though, Rick had watched as I stayed close by the sides of his kids. Judith had grown up in my arms. Slowly growing out of diapers, and into her first set of big girl shoes. Maggie watched from afar, “You act like such a well-tuned mother to the grimes children.” She commented one day as we walked through Alexandria. “Daryl is more than impressed with you almost every day he says it.” Maggie said as we walked together one day.  

Daryl had watched his youngest and only sibling grow into a woman in the past few years. A woman with a man that loved her, his best friend, and children that even though they might not be hers she still loves them, teaches them like they are hers. 

 A trusted companion of Ricks, a confidante, and a mother. Y/n Dixion had become something better over the years, since the start of the zombified world that she knew more now. What had been was no longer. Rick had fallen for the girl that protected his kids; Maggie was Y/n's best friend because she adored the way she indeed was herself regardless of the shit either of them had been through together and separately. Daryl wouldn’t know what to do without his baby sister, and only sibling left in this horribly, dark and scary world.  

Completed on: 10/25/22

Posted on: 10/28/22

The Law-

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Rick/reader/Daryl are a throuple and the Alexandria residents don’t know how to react.

.⋆｡Her Poor Cat｡⋆.

Daryl x plus size reader x Rick

Obviously the Alexandrians were pretty vanilla

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and smut, bit of a crack fic, humour, fluff

WC: 900

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The welcome party was an interesting touch to the new-comers. It was so weirdly reminiscent of the old world with the nice clothes and good food and alcohol but at the same time, many in the room carried that haunted look in their eyes from the hell just outside the walls. But the food was fresh and the company was pleasant enough.

Carl had scrambled off a couple minutes ago, presumably to try and sneak some whiskey behind his father’s back, leaving you alone with a sleepy Judith perched on your wide hip. Her chunky hand tightly clutched at your shirt as her big blue eyes fluttered.

“Mama.” She muttered, nuzzling further into your hold. You gently cupped the back of her head and began to sway softly. 

“We’ll leave soon, just need to find your dads and make sure they don’t get into any trouble.” Your eyes skipped over the crowd but you were quickly stopped by someone coming up beside you.

“It’s so good to see healthy children during these times.” Deanna seemed less focused on you and more on the now half-asleep child in your arms, which you were incredibly grateful for considering that your poker face wasn’t as good as it used to be and she legitimately freaked you out.

Judith grumbled as you hitched her higher on your hip. “Judy is an easy baby, pretty much eats anything that gets put in front of her.” You chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“You and Rick must be very proud of your kids.” 

Your eyes widened. “Oh, it’s not-“

A strong arm was suddenly wrapped around your thick waist and you were tugged back into their hard stomach. The scent of cigarettes and motor oil filled your senses as Daryl’s lips brushed against your earlobe. You watched as Deanna went pale, obviously coming to her own conclusion about your relationship with the archer.

“I-I didn’t realise, given how affectionate you are with the kids, I thought Rick was your partner.” You could feel Daryl’s broad chest rumble with discontent.

“So what if he is?” The noise from the party faded away to a faint whisper as all eyes turned to you. Internally, you groaned, vowing to get some sort of revenge on your boyfriend.

“I’m sorry?” Deanna seemed genuinely confused but you knew that whatever was about to come out of Daryl’s mouth would not serve to lessen that feeling.

With your free hand, you dug your fingers into his hip, urging him to shut the hell up but like always, Daryl refused to listen. “So what if we’re both fucking her?”

And there it was. Your body sagged with embarrassment as heat raced up your neck, blooming across your cheeks. “You fucking asshole.” Your group all seemed to be holding back their laughter as the Alexandrians were suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. You heard Carl groan loudly from somewhere behind you. “Not again.”

“Both of them?” Spencer materialised beside his mother, jaw practically on the floor. “At the same time?”

Just as Daryl’s mouth opened once more to very rudely answer the mayor’s son, Rick’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. His grip was light enough to appear friendly but the way his fingers curled into his collarbone kept the other man silent. “What Daryl meant to say is that we are all in a relationship together.”

You then made the mistake of making eye contact with Maggie and Carol who both seemed to be on the edge of suffocation as they desperately tried to stop giggling. You glared at the women and got back a rather rude gesture from Carol that restarted their laughter anew.

“I think I need to get Judy to bed.” You tried to pull away from Daryl’s grip but the stubborn man he was, he just held you tighter.

“How does that work?” The question came from a woman towards the back. You could practically feel Rick’s smirk as he cleared his throat but very quickly, another woman decided to answer for him.

“Obviously they take turns.” A murmur of agreement filled the room followed by- “Oh her poor vagina.” This makes Glenn snort into his drink.

With a horrified look on her face, Deanna spoke again. “This is highly inappropriate.” Yet no one seemed to hear her because someone else piped up.

“I can’t believe that she isn’t pregnant all the time.”

“I think that’s enough of that! Thank you all for the wonderful party, but we really should be going now.” Your voice boomed, starling Judith awake but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. Daryl went easily enough as your fingers clamped down on his wrist and you pulled him along, although there was a prideful smile on his lips.

But Rick had other ideas. “It’s not like we don’t try every chance we get.” Faster than you thought you were capable of, you dropped Daryl’s hand and your arm darted out, grabbing Rick’s ear with a force that made him visibly flinch.

“I said that’s enough.” You snarled and tugged him towards the front door, Daryl trailing close behind you. “Goodnight.” The door slammed shut behind you, leaving behind a room full of stunned Alexandrians and your friends who were all laughing loudly.

“Well, I guess that cleared that up.” Deanna murmured and took a long pull of her drink.

TWD Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen

TWD

@Becausedarylsaidso @hopefulatrocity @originalsourpatch @eternalrose81 @hc-geralt-23 @Theantisoci-alone @mandythemint @certifiedhunter @thequeenreaders @honkytonkbabe

Rick Grimes 

@minervadashwood @livingdeadblondequeen @nini-trash-forever @itsbqueenthings @blasianbitch @l9ckheed @tinyinfluencerharmony @capsheadquaters @stabmemaybe @marvel-mistress @bking4000 @graciespies @sydsicr @ambassadortotrilliusprime @mewlingoizys @darleneslane @oxymorondemon @brittney69 @Theantisoci-alone @memphiscity69 @wada-kru @daytej @answer-the-sirens

Daryl Dixon 

@springdandelixn @goobysgoobers @ruinedbythehobbit @joyfulfxckery

[minervadashwood]

Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 32

~~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Taglist

~~~~~~~~

Summary: It's been a week or so since Glenn and T-Dog saved Rick. Now, your pack is getting settled in new place. Word count: 3K This chapter contains: Nesting, going into heat, firearms, smut.

Author's note: I am a little behind on posting chapters to tumblr. So I'll be trying to fix that in the next few days.

==

Nest.

It was all you could think about as you took water and soap to every surface in the kitchen. The other rooms had been cleaned, from top to bottom, including the loft and the basement. The loft had a low ceiling, but Ro and Merle had made their bed up there, using an air mattress and sleeping bags. Carl slept on the main floor, closest to the wood stove, while you, Rick, and Daryl had a makeshift bed in the basement. It was a far cry from your house, a home filled with Daryl’s handiwork, not to mention modern furniture. All that remained were some old, hand-made chairs and a small kitchen table.

This cabin, like the others around it, was old, from the 1850s, you’d guessed, based on the structure and style. In more recent years the land had been repossessed then abandoned. Before then, generations of Dixons had lived here, in their own version of Walton’s mountain, before the Great Depression.

Despite the bedding downstairs in the basement of this old, cozy cabin, your omega was desperate for safety, seclusion, and comfort.

As you cleaned, you were also looking after Carl. He sat at the table, still and focused as he drew pictures to give Lori and Shane when they arrived. He’d grown quiet over the last few days, since you left home.

You hoped, for his sake, that Lori and Shane would get here soon.

The past few days remained a chaotic whirlwind, made all the worse by your biological imperative. Soon after you met Glenn and T-Dog, your mates decided it was time to get out of town, before things got worse.

The next morning, you packed what you could: clothes, food, and supplies. When it came time to pack up the pillows and blankets from your nest, you sat frozen in your nest, trying not to cry. That’s how Daryl found you when it was almost time to go.

“C’mon, Bubbie,” he said, clearing space so he could sit next to you. “You’ll make a new one.”

“You built this for me,” you replied gesturing at the bed, then running your hand along the shelves behind it. “You made this a home. For us.”

Daryl gathered you in his arms. “Yer the one who made it a home. ‘Sides we’ll come back when it dies down.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think we will. The way Glenn describes the city…I don’t think this will be safe for a long time if the dead are migrating here.” You took a deep breath. “I know we have to go.”

“Don’ mean it’s easy,” he said, hugging you. After a moment, he got off the bed and opened one of the cherry wood chests he’d made for your nesting materials. He dumped out all the unused, pillows and blankets, still in their plastic wrapping.

What to take was your decision, but Daryl helped you, arranging everything in the chest, and packing it tightly.

Later, when it was time to go, Rick reassured you, too. “We’ll get you a place for your nest in time.”

“What if we have to move again, while I’m in heat?” you asked. “It will be soon.”

“I know. We both do. That’s why we’re goin’ now. And it’s why we need to stick together. Not just us, but the new guys, too.”

You nodded. Rick wrapped you up in a tight hug.

“We owe them. I owe them,” you said. “They brought you back to me.” Even in the short time you’d known Glenn and T, you knew them to be good people. T-Dog, an alpha, kept his distance from you; he must have known you were close to your heat, but you’d gotten to know Glenn a little. He had strategic way of thinking, and you thought maybe he was some sort of weekend warrior. But no, just a delivery driver.

Now, in the cabin, you gripped the edge of the sink, panic rising. Trying to control your breathing, you glanced at the wooden chest sitting by the basement door. Then, you stared at Carl’s back, as a sudden, unwelcome wave of frustration came over you. Your omega didn’t want him near your nest. In fact, it didn’t even want your mates near it, not yet.

Outside, Merle and Ro kept watch while your mates were clearing out other cabins, making them livable. T and Glenn took one, next to yours. You bristled at having strangers so close by when your heat was imminent, but you owed them.

The front door swung open, and you flinched, letting out a whimper of surprise. Despite the gust of cold wind from the door, you were too hot to even notice, but Carl shivered.

Daryl stepped in, quickly closing the door, and going to add logs to the wood stove.

He took one look at you, and whether it was your bond or Daryl’s keen eye, he seemed to know exactly what you needed. Jutting his chin toward the basement, he sat down next to Carl, distracting the boy while you went to make your nest.

The chest was too heavy for you to carry, and through your bond you felt Daryl’s impulse to help you. Rejecting it and putting up a mental wall, you grabbed armfuls of your blankets and pillows, making a few trips up and down the basement stairs. When you were done, you locked the door at the top of the steps and got to work.

The padded mats you cleaned earlier had dried. One still held hints of Daryl’s musk, pine, so you put it in the center foundation of your nest and started arranging everything around it. Nestled in the corner of the room, the nest began to grow. Releasing your perfume, you set about making the entire area yours. Blankets were piled on top of each other, pillows lined the walls. After hours of work, you were almost satisfied and crept back up the stairs to find the house empty except for Daryl and Rick, who were both pacing in the open-spaced living room and kitchen.

“Carl?” you said, still on edge, but in control of your anxiety for the moment.

“With Jesus.” Rick assured you.

“Whaddaya need from us, Bubbie?” Daryl asked, his voice low and soft.

“I need your clothes, something,” you said, your voice almost whiny. Your first heat had been so perfect. But this heat was different. You couldn’t be sure your pack would even be safe here, or how long you could stay in one place. Especially with Rick and Daryl unable to protect everyone like they had been.

Wasn’t it selfish of you to need them like you did? Not just one, but both? Yet how could you choose? Yes, you were more in sync with Daryl, but he’d claimed you and been with you for half a year now. You cared just as much for Rick, and soon you’d be bonded with him, too.

Daryl started striding across the room, but you backed away, shaking your head.

“Not yet.”

Rick shrugged out of his fur-lined deputy’s coat and untucked his shirt, unbuttoning it as you watched. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, his soft dusting of hair enticing. Your stomach clenched and all you wanted was to lay on top of him and let him ease the growing ache in your belly.

Meanwhile, Daryl froze in place, and, although it took you a moment, you finally realized what you’d inadvertently asked of him. Quickly, you opened your suitcase and started pulling out unwrapped Christmas presents. What a simpler time that had been, when your most pressing worry was dropped stitches and miscounted rows.

Setting some things on the kitchen table, you approached Daryl with his poncho, it was hooded, with two layers of thick wool.

“Trade for your coat?” you asked him.

He took it and brought it to his nose, sniffing deeply.

“Ya make this? Fer me?”

You nodded. “I did some research and it’s supposed to keep you warm while you use your crossbow.”

Your mate’s face was red, and he was blinking quickly as he stared down at the gift.

“Merry Christmas,” you said quietly. Daryl nodded without looking up, refusing to meet your eyes or Rick’s.

“I-I-I have more,” you stammered, unnerved by Daryl’s reaction. Why would he cry over a poncho? You gave Rick his wide scarf and matching gloves. Daryl had a pair of gloves, too, fingerless with rubber grips sewn on the underside—for driving his motorcycle.

“Bunny,” Rick breathed, still shirtless and sniffing his scarf. “These are amazing. And your scent is all over them.”

Daryl grunted, and got out of his coat, handing it to you, and putting on his poncho.

“’S real nice, ‘mega,” he said, adjusting the poncho on his shoulders then grabbing his crossbow from where it sat nearby.

Clutching Daryl’s coat and then grabbing Rick’s shirt, you said. “Soon. But --”

Daryl looked up. “Ya dun wan’ anyone in ‘ere but us.”

You nodded.

Rick said, “While your finishin’ up, we’ll get Carl settled in with Jesus. Already talked to him about your heat.”

“You did?”

“Carl knows that you’ll need me— us -- for a few days.”

Of course, children knew, vaguely what an omega in heat entailed. Not the actual mating, but the privacy, the duty of alphas to care for their partners.

“And the others?” you asked.

“Merle swore off drinkin’ an’ Ro’s good with the kid. Glenn and T helpin’ with keepin’ watch.”

Their reassurances consoled you. Besides, the betas in your pack knew what they needed to do, and you trusted them. But Carl…he had been taken from his mom and now his dad, too.

You pointed to two crocheted Woobles on the table. “These are for Carl.” Both were dinosaurs from his favorite cartoon.

“I’ll make sure he gets them,” Rick said.

“Go’n now,” Daryl told you, jutting his chin at the basement door. “Be dark soon, an’ cold.”

You nodded, renewed determination compelling you to tweak your nest until it was perfect and cozy for your alphas, for yourself, and for the days that followed.

*

Finally, your nest was as close to perfect as it was going to get. Surveying the pile of blankets and pillows, your omega was finally happy to have a place to share with your mates.

Despite the stress of the past few days, a glimmer of happiness bloomed. Rick could claim you. Daryl would make love to you. And the world outside would fall away.

Skin still hot, you left the basement in search of your men. You’d been cramping steadily for the past hour, nothing unmanageable but growing more intense as time went on.

Outside, you heard the rumble of engines, and a wave of tension hit you. Not your own, but Daryl’s

Grabbing your coat, you ran outside, finding Daryl on the porch and Rick standing in the worn path near the house. A little behind Rick were Merle and Ro; Merle with a shotgun pointed at the winding path that led to the cabins.

In the distance, three vehicles approached, a Jeep, a Cherokee, and an RV.

“That’s Shane and Lori,” Rick said, but his hand was on the butt of his revolver, you noticed.

You approached Daryl, standing next to him as he held his crossbow, lowered, but seemingly ready to aim at a moment’s notice.

“You said it was just them two,” Merle shouted. “Then explain the rest of ‘em.”

The cars continued to approach, Rick glanced around, his eyes landing on Merle, who had his rifle raised.

“Put that down, Merle,” Rick ordered.

“Ya gonna make me?”

Daryl gruffly shouted, “Merle!”

Merle shrugged his shoulders. “Fine. If y’all wanna risk it, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

Glenn, from across the way, spoke up. “It’s all good. More people, yeah? Safer that way.”

You agreed with Glenn and Rick, at least on principle. Yet, right now, on the verge of your heat, the thought of strangers being near you or your nest, felt like a threat on your pack’s territory.

Just then, Carl ran out of the cabin next door, without a coat on. Merle lowered his gun even more at the sight of the pup, but you could still see the tension in his shoulders. Next to him, Ro was quiet and still, his hand at his side holding a gun.

The red Jeep barely came to a stop before Lori appeared, throwing herself out of the passenger side door and running to Carl. Shane got out, too, and you relaxed at that. If Rick trusted Shane enough to tell him about this place, then the people with Shane had to be trustworthy, too, right?

Shane’s scent didn’t alarm you, not like it had the first time you’d met him, but there were more alphas’ scents emanating as other people emerged from their vehicles. One alpha’s odor burnt in your nostrils; when a balding, scowling man looked your way, you knew it was him. In the same car were a thin woman and a cowering little girl, who was around Carl’s age.

The alpha stared at you, his eyes bulging, it seemed, making you gasp and hide behind Daryl. Daryl squared his shoulders and adjusted his grip on the crossbow as Rick took an intimidating step toward the strange alpha.

Still, the frightening man didn’t look away.

Rick’s voice sliced through your fog. “Inside. Now.”

Not a command, and not directed at you.

Daryl said, “Holler if—”

“I will,” Rick replied, keeping his eyes on the strangers.

Daryl took you by the arm and guided you back into the cabin. Inside the warm living room, you took off your outerwear as quickly as you donned it moments ago. Your body was at war with your mind. Cramps of need swept through your middle, beginning the incessant pulsing at your core. You reached for the kitchen table to steady yourself, but Daryl caught you, holding you tightly against him, your backside pressing against his front. Slick moistened your underwear, and Daryl’s reaction was nearly instantaneous as you felt him grow hard against you.

Glancing out the windows to see Rick shaking hands with the strangers, you trembled as Daryl let out a possessive growl and rubbed his scent on you. Melting against him with a whimper, you let your instincts take over, ignoring the activity outside. With a huff, Daryl let go of you for just a moment to shoulder his crossbow, then he practically shoved you to the basement door. Eagerly you obeyed, flying down the stairs and burrowing on top of your nest.

“Daryl,” you whined, stripping off your layers of warm clothing and gazing up at him.

He locked the door, and after placing his weapon nearby, Daryl laid next to you, pulling you against him and running his teeth along your neck.

“Fuck, Bubbie,” he groaned, and began kissing his mark. With his hand on your hip, he pulled you to him and threw a leg over you, kissing and fondling you onto your back. Ridding himself quickly of his clothes, Daryl lowered himself above you, his bare skin on yours as he settled between your legs and kissed you again.

Your core throbbed, clenching and unclenching, demanding more than kisses from the alpha on top of you. Daryl started pressing his cock to the apex of your thighs, just slowly grinding his hips against you as his mouth and hands worked you to a fever pitch. You grabbed at him, too, sinking your nails into his back, squeezing his upper arms, reaching for his ass to urge him closer. Daryl was frantic and somehow still gentle, knowing all your favorite places for his mouth and hands. The scent of your arousal only grew stronger, and Daryl groaned in response. Fumbling, he rearranged himself so he rested on one forearm while his other hand cupped your mound. Taking one breast into his mouth, Daryl sucked and nipped at your sensitive bud as he slipped a finger inside you.

“Yer so wet, ‘mega’” he told you, “Jus’ lettin’ me right in. Feel so good on my hand.”

Your belly fluttered at his praise. Raising your hips to meet his hand you moved slowly, then with more intensity as he added another finger. His hand knew just how to make you come unraveled.

“Yes, Daryl, please .” you begged, getting close.

Suddenly, Daryl’s fingers left you, and you cried out in protest. He silenced you with a kiss on your mouth, immediately breaching the seam of your lips with his tongue. At the same time, his cock slipped through your folds and found its home in your soaking, needy pussy.

“Ye-e-e-sss,” you moaned. His cock was so big and perfect, stretching you and filling you. When he started moving you hung onto him for dear life, savoring the feel of him inside you, of his mouth on yours, of his entire body caging you in.

In your soul, you felt Daryl too, his passion and his desire, crashing into you the more he worked your body. He paused his kisses and locked eyes with you, holding your face in his hands as he thrust, the steady movement of his cock inside you sending you over the edge.

“I love you, Daryl,” you moaned, pulsing around him and holding his gaze. His knot notched into place, and he came, filling you even more. Nuzzling your gland and his mark, Daryl kissed you gently, then his mouth moved, lightly kissing your jaw then your mouth. He collapsed on top of you then rolled you over so you could lay on his chest, his knot holding you together. Reaching beside you, you found one of your favorite knitted blankets and covered you both.

Still breathing heavily, Daryl cradled you in his arms, teeth teasing your earlobe as you sighed against him.

“I love ya, too, Bubbie,” he whispered, speaking the words aloud for the first time.

You wondered if he felt the fullness of your heart through the bond. He must have because he sighed and relaxed, whispering more sweet words in your ear.

“So perfect, my omega, so strong.”

Almost nothing else existed as Daryl held you in your makeshift nest. Only one piece was missing, and as you nestled into Daryl’s chest, you hoped that Rick would join you soon.

==

Next chapter.

==

If you want to be on the taglist, fill out this form.

If you want to be removed from the taglist, reply here or send me an ask/message.

@livingdeadblondequeen @phoenixblack89 @green-eyedladywrites @in-this-minute @takeabreathdeath @ravendixon @gypsytraveler86-blog @xojdmasf @daisy107 @angelrenee239 @sleepyamaya @no-tresspassing @carol @taintedxkisses @bl4ckt00thgr1n @glitch0o0 @micheleamidalajedi @lonelywolfheart @jad3djay @catholicraisin @harringtonstudios @brittney69 @littlelovebug98 @aureolinb @aeriean @your-momahoe316 @gracefulsunflower @strnqer @meganmayhem89 @quarksnuts @Nano_owl @halfdeadie @crissys-dead @plaguerat44 @madislayyy @xjust-existingx @cjmonsterwolf @Simpsense1945 @foill70 @crazylilad @eldritchenochian @crissys-dead

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairings: daryl dixon x bimbo plus size!reader

― era: early season 9

― summary: you needed more clothes, and daryl was more than willing to spoil you.

― warnings: literally nothing! it's just fluff and the reader being very dense :`]

― wc: 1773

⋆ a/n: i loved writing this more than i love air, so i hope you guys enjoy this because i know i do.

masterlist | AO3

In any other lifetime, Daryl would’ve ignored girls like you; the ones that weren't as bright, that always had a question, that never knew what was going on, practically having a head filled with air. How you were still alive when Daryl had first met you was beyond him, because you were definitely the type that wouldn't be able to survive the apocalypse. He should've left you to die, but he quickly learned that your presence had easily brought joy to the group.

At first, he stayed away from you, but it was as if you flocked to him, following him around like a lost puppy. Anyone else would have been annoyed with the way you stuck to him— even though he'll never admit it— he liked that you always needed his help, that he was the first person you sought out. He quickly became your protector; you almost ran into a door? He's placing a hand on your shoulder to lead you the right way. You can't figure out why your gun is out bullets? Your gun that had miraculously disappeared is now back and the chamber’s loaded. Out of your favorite pink lip gloss? There's a new tube waiting for you on your desk. He always hovered, he always knew what you needed, and he made damn sure he could provide for you.

It wasn't hard to figure out that he was in love with you, and many people found it amusing— especially the leaders of the kingdom, and Alexandria. You were total opposites, and maybe that's just what Daryl needed.

Now here you were, practically fuming because of your lack of clothing. With Rick honoring Carl, and Daryl being his right-hand man, you weren't able to go out shopping. It's not that Daryl didn't trust the others to take you out, you were the one that actually preferred him there— mostly because you felt a lot safer with him— but also because you needed his opinion on what clothes you should get. Even if you liked it, you wanted him to like it too, because he was your boyfriend, and he would have to see you wear them everyday.

You must admit that Daryl had ended up dictating most of your wardrobe; from your perfume to certain shirts, and pants, and sometimes down to your bra and underwear. It wasn't like he had insisted on it like some control freak, but he knew it was something that would make you happy, so he obliged.

You huffed sadly, looking at your black-to-pink clothing ratio— which was unmistakably Daryl's. You had no idea when he would come home, and you were starting to get fidgety. Back before the world fell, you loved to shop, it was your favorite past time, practically robbing the poor stores blind with your friends. You stood there in your hot pink tank top, your underwear having the word ‘Baby’ bedazzled across your ass— Daryl had begrudgingly allowed you to take it home when he heard the excited squeal you let out when you saw the pair, which was one out of the many in the pack.

Your bedroom door opened, causing excitement to course through your veins as you turned around to look at your favorite archer, the man setting his trusty crossbow against the wall. You could see the crown sticker you had put on the handle of it, Daryl always threatening to rip the “stupid” thing off— even though you both knew that he ended up gluing it on there.

“Baby!” You squealed, practically throwing yourself on him. He pulled you flush against his body as you showered his face in never ending kisses, smearing your lip gloss all over his forehead, cheeks, and lips. “You're home! Oh, I've missed you so much!” He chuckled fondly at your enthusiasm, hands falling to the exposed skin of your waist, which was a product of your squirming.

“I missed ya too, sunshine.” You pulled your face away from his so that your arms were looped around his neck, peering up at him through those pretty eyelashes of yours. “So, I was thinking that my closet was looking like it needed more clothes.” He raised an eyebrow, his lips tugged up in the corners in amusement. “Is that so?” You nodded with a big smile on your face. “Yep! And I need you to come with me.” He looked conflicted as his left hand reached up to caress the side of your face.

“I dunno.” You gave him the best puppy dog eyes that you could muster, pouting your now barely glossed lips. “C'mon, D. It's been so long since I've been on a real shopping trip, and wouldn't it be a good time to go on a date?” He let out a defeated groan. He couldn't say no to you, he hated that he couldn't, and he also hated how you knew and took advantage of it.

“Alrigh’, we'll go tomorrow.” You let out a happy noise as you showered him in affection once more. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You all but cried. “You're the best, bear.” You were the only one that was allowed to call him ‘’Bear.” You had claimed that it sounded familiar to Dar, which was another nickname you had gracefully given him. “Don’ go shoutin’ that.” You giggled, placing a peck on his nose. “No promises, Bear.” You teased.

As the next day came, you were up early, your body thrumming in enthusiasm as you thought of finally getting out of the walls for a while. You wiggled out of Daryl's unconscious embrace, the older man rolling over onto his back where you took full advantage of straddling his waist. You dragged your hands down his bulky chest, running your fingers through the patch of hair on his chest, down over his peck to trace around the tattoo that laid inked there. You bent down, your still shirt covered chest pressing against his, placing kisses from his lips to his neck, nibbling softly on the skin.

“Bear…” You whined softly, “You've gotta get up. You promised.” He groaned, large calloused palms resting on your full thighs. “Well good mornin’ to ya too.” You joined your lips together softly, Daryl closing his eyes so he could be surrounded with everything that was you. As you broke off the kiss, your peered into his eyes, Daryl looking into yours with admiration of his own.

“Alrigh’,” He sighed, “’M gettin’ up.” You cheered, landing one last kiss on his pursed mouth, bouncing off of him to find something to wear.

The ride to the store was nice, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist. As he assisted you getting off of the bike, you couldn't help but ask, “Bear, does my makeup look okay?” Even when it was the apocalypse, you still liked to do your makeup. His thumb came up to gently wipe off some pink eyeshadow that had fallen onto your cheek. “Ya look beautiful.” You smiled at him, your body flushing. “Ya ready?” He asked, holding out his hand for you to take. “Mhm.”

He had made sure every square inch of the store was cleared before allowing you to even step foot inside, insisting that you wait outside of it. When his sweep was done, he had reappeared to come and get you, tugging you inside and into the clothing section.

“Dar, look at all of these dresses!” You announced in awe. You gently touched the material, twisting the fabric between your fingers before letting go.

The next hour consisted if you throwing things in Daryl's awaiting arms, the man hauling around the items until you had reached the dressing rooms. You took all of the clothes out of his arms, Daryl collapsing in a chair with a disgruntled, but yet relieved grunt.

“’M too old fer this shit.” He all but complained.

As he watched you disappear behind the old curtain, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of normality. He knew for a fact that if the world still functioned the way it did, he would have never carried around clothes, or allowed someone to call him bear, or even touch his prized crossbow. He couldn't help but think that maybe— just maybe —you would be doing this with him if the dead had stayed dead. If Merle could see him now he'd call him pussy whipped for a skirt. He could almost hear him say it, a chuckle exiting his body at the thought of his older brother’s crude teasing.

The air got lodged in his throat as he watched you model a pair of low-rise denim shorts. He could see the tattoo above your ass on your lower back clear as day, three stars sat above either cheek.

“I figured these would be good for when it warms up.” You have him one last twirl before awaiting his approval. “Yea, it looks good. 'Real airy.” You giggled in satisfaction. “I know right?!” You disappeared back into the small room before popping back out in a light pink no strap tube top, even lighter pink feathers lining the top band above your breasts.

“What do you think?” You asked, a glimmer in your eye in your eyes that clearly states that you loved the thing. “Can that thing even be considered a shirt?” He snorted, but it was all just teasing to ruffle your feathers— no pun intended. “Ya look like a flamingo.” You whined at his faux insults, throwing him a weak glare. “Dar, don't be mean! I like it.” He blew out an overdramatic raspberry before focusing back on you.

“I like it. 'Would look good with that skirt I saw ya throw at me.” Your head perked up as if you were the one that had the idea yourself. “You're so right!” You rushed to squeeze to the skirt on, not even bothering to shut the curtain as you bent over.

Today, your panties read, ‘Sweetheart.’

It went on like that for what seemed like hours before you had finally left the store, the clothes that you wanted being shoved into old bags that Daryl had found— which he inevitably ended up carrying as well.

“Thank you so much for today, Bear.” You said tiredly. You fell face first onto his firm chest, breathing in his earthy scent. “Ain’ no problem, darlin’.” He wrapped his arms around you, his hands still clasped with the baggage.

You leaned up, pressing a sweet, glossed kiss to his cheek, smearing the product on his scruff, a feeling that Daryl will always welcome.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02

[somethinginthewayiam]

A new home

pairing: Chibs Telford x plus-size reader

words: 3377

warnings: there is 18+ content throughout (minors DNI), mentions of ptsd, smut

Summary: After the explosion, Chibs just cut all communication and didn’t show up again. He didn’t even tell you that the club bought the ice cream shop on mainstreet. You found out by chance walking by...

link to my masterlist and previous parts

You startled awake in your bed. Your heart and your breathing raced each other. You had dreamed about the explosion again. It had just been a few days ago and you relieved the moment every night since.

Your hand reached over automatically, looking for Chibs but the bed was empty. He was a no-show since the night of the explosion, when he had brought you home and held you until you were asleep.

You pulled your hand back and put in on your chest over your heart, trying to breathe slowly and calmly until you were able to get up.

You took a cold, short shower to clear your head and then got dressed to drive over to Diosa.

With Nero in jail, you, Lyla and Gemma were basically keeping the business alive. You were taking care of more than just the books by now. You dove into the work to keep yourself distracted from everything; the explosion, Chibs cutting contact and your mental state going downhill.

In the early afternoon, you left work to run some errands but you would be back in the evening to help out with Diosa’s rush-hour. Your bartending skills came in handy again.

Carrying two big, stuffed bags with groceries, you walked down the street.

“I can’t believe they let those bikers buy the old ice cream shop. If Carl would see this, he’d turn in his grave”, you overheard two older ladies talk to each other as you passed them on the side-walk.

Your body came to a sudden halt and you turned around to them. “Excuse me, which ice cream shop are you talking about?”, you asked. The ladies looked at you a bit startled. They hadn’t noticed you until now.

“Scoops & Sweets around the corner, on main street”, one of them told you. “Thank you”, you mentioned and changed your direction to the ice cream shop. It was really right around the corner, actually just a block away from your yoga studio.

When you came to the big shop window, you saw three people in kuttes sitting at the counter and Chucky behind it, seemingly running the place. None of them were Chibs. In fact, the only one you knew was Chucky.

Chibs hadn’t told you that the M.C. had found their new headquarters. Well, Chibs hasn’t said anything to you in the past couple of days, not a single fucking word.

You decided to go inside. Besides the counter, there were booths and a few tables with chairs, all empty. You guessed, a shop full of bikers wasn’t very inviting to the people of Charming, especially after the explosion.

“Hey Chucky, got your own place now?”, you asked as you entered. You placed the bags of groceries on the counter. “Ha, it’s cool, isn’t it? I’m selling sweets”, he told you and gestured at the filled glasses with all kinds of candy. “Oh man, I would have loved this place as a kid. You would have gotten all my pocket money”, you told him and sat down on an empty bar stool at the counter.

You looked over to the three bikers at the bar who were following your conversation with Chucky. All three were wearing SAMCRO patches.

“I think we haven’t met yet”, you said and extended your hand. They introduced themselves as Quinn, Montez and West. They told you that they had recently transferred from other charters.

You kept chatting with the men and lost a bit track of time. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the Sons coming towards the shop through the big windows. You clocked Chibs right away and he spotted you, too. He stopped in his stride for a second before he entered the shop behind Tig.

But another man caught your attention as he entered the shop as the first one.

“Oh my god, Bobby!”, you exclaimed as your old boss walked through the door. You jumped off the bar stool, got over to him and gave him a big hug. You were so happy to see him again, you thought he had left Charming for good.

Chibs just walked around the two of you and hopped up on the counter, reaching into the glass of gummy worms and throwing some into his mouth.

“Hey, doll”, he greeted you with your old nickname and you immediately felt nostalgic. “I didn’t know that you’re back. How are you?”, you asked him when you pulled back. “I’ve been shopping for the club”, he said and pointed at the three new members at the counter.

“How have you been? I’ve heard you were at the clubhouse when it happened”, he asked and looked honestly worried about you. He still had his hands on your upper arms and squeezed them reassuringly.

“I’m okay, I’m pulling through. Thank you for asking, I’m glad that someone cares”, you told him. You heard Chibs snorting at your words behind you but not saying anything. You rolled your eyes and clenched your jaw at his reaction.

Bobby looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you just shook your head. “Don’t get me started”, you simply said.

“I think the two of you should talk”, Bobby advised. Then he looked over your shoulder and directly at Chibs. “And soon”, he said to his fellow SAMCRO brother. “I’ve only been back three days and he’s already getting on my nerves with his bad mood. Make me wanna ride off again”, Bobby told you.

“I’m not the one going radio silent. He stopped talking to me the day after the explosion”, you told Bobby.

“Aye, could ya stop talking like I’m not even here?”, Chibs called over from his spot on the counter.

“Oh, look who found his words again?”, you mocked him as you turned around and narrowed your eyes at him. Chibs rolled his at you and now it was your turn to snort instead of using your words.

“Alright. Not that I want to play marriage counselor here, but you kids seriously need to talk”, Bobby intervened. “Chibs, you bring Y/N home and talk about whatever is going on between the two of you. Doesn’t matter how long it takes”, he said, picked up your grocery bags and handed them to Chibs, making him come down from the counter.

“My car is right around the corner, I don’t need him”, you told Bobby. “Great, he can drive you”, he said, deliberately ignoring your objection. “Now go”, he added and motioned both of you over to the door. “Let me take those”, you said and wanted to take the bags from him. “I got it”, he just grumbled and turned his upper body away as he walked past you and out the door.

To say it was a tense ride home, would be an understatement. None of you said a word. The silence continued until you were in your apartment. Chibs put the grocery bags on your kitchen counter while you put your purse in its spot by the door.

Just a second later, Chibs was coming towards you again and wanted to walk around you and out of the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”, you said and stepped in his way. “Back to the shop”, he just said and narrowed his eyes at you as you wouldn’t get out of his way.

“I thought we were gonna talk?”, you asked honestly confused. “Just because Bobby said so?”, he asked mockingly. “No, because I want to talk to you but you never showed your ass here again”, you countered and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“I don’t have time for this”, he mentioned and attempted to push past you again, but you were quicker and got in his way. You stepped in front of the door, blocking it.

“No, you’re not leaving again”, you said and put your hands on his chest, shoving him back. “Don’t make me put my hand on you, woman”, he threatened. “You wouldn’t dare. That’s not you”, you countered.

Chibs charged at you and had you caged between him and the door in two seconds. You looked up at him, lifting your chin, defying him. His eyes wandered over your face, hectically.

You could see in his eyes that both of you, at the same time, remembered the last time you stood like this at your door. When he had picked you up from that bar just a few weeks ago and had fucked you against it.

His facial features softened a little bit only to twist in anger again a moment later and he slammed his fist against the door above your head. You winced at his action. He turned around and walked a few steps into your apartment.

“What the hell is going on, Filip?”, you followed him. “Why did you just leave that morning and never came back?”, you asked. He still had his back to you, his hands on his hips. “You didn’t even call me. And I would have needed you. I was scared”, you told him further, your voice becoming shaky at the emotion that was washing over your body like a wave.

“I wanted to protect you”, he finally said. You were almost surprised when he spoke. “From what? The shit had already happened”, you replied. “You think that’s the only shite we’re dealing with?”, he turned around and his brows were furrowed in anger.

“Being involved with the club comes with consequences and I will not be responsible for you getting hurt”, he said. “It’s a little late for that”, you countered.

“What’s a little heartbreak for saving ya life?”, he asked and to your ears it sounded like he was mocking your feelings.

“You know what? Fuck you!”, you shouted at him and made a few steps in his direction, pointing your finger at him. “I’m already involved with the club, I’m working for the Sons, remember? And just because you decided that we stop fucking doesn’t resolve any involvement. It only tells me what a coward you are”, you spat at him.

“Watch it”, he warned you, but you would have none of it. “You watch it”, you threw back at him. “I’m allowed to feel scared after what happened to me but I will get over it eventually”, you told him.

“You still have those nightmares?”, he asked like he already knew the answer and that it would explain everything.

“It’s been 5 days! Sorry for not having more experience of being blown up”, you spat at him. His so-called arguments made you furious.

“How do you even know about my nightmares? It’s not like you stopped by or called for that matter”, you countered. He at least had the decency to look a little bit ashamed before he answered. “Lyla”, he finally admitted. He didn’t have the guts to talk to you but he asked Lyla how you were? Are we in fifth grade?

“Even if I do, why is it your concern? Didn’t seem to bother you the past couple of days”, you taunted him. “You’re always my concern”, he said and clenched his jaw like he was mad about that.

“Then why the sudden silence? I thought after all the sex we’re having and the time we spent together, you would at least have the decency to tell me when this is over”, you said.

“I thought it would be easier like this”, he finally admitted and his voice was lower, softer. “Well, you thought wrong. And could you please stop thinking that you could make decisions for me? I’m a grown-ass woman who is very capable of making up her own mind. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me”, you told him. He just looked at you in response, not saying a word. You would have hoped for some kind of reaction, positive or negative. But that silence again enraged you. Maybe he was actually done with you.

You walked over to Chibs and made yourself as tall as possible in front of him, putting your hands on your hips.

“If you can honestly look me in the eyes and tell me that you want to end this, that you don’t want to have sex with me again and despise my company then there is nothing I can do about it. But don’t believe for a second that you can just keep your distance and annoy me out of whatever this is. I grew up with 3 brothers. I’ve been annoyed by men my whole god-damn life”, you told him with a stern voice and poked your finger at his chest with every syllable of the last few words.

You said what you wanted to say. You looked up at him waiting for his reaction. His dark-brown eyes bored into yours, but he didn’t open his mouth. You almost felt overwhelmed by the wave of disappointment washing over you. You lightly shook your head in defeat and wanted to walk away, get some distance between the both of you.

Chibs grabbed your wrist just as you wanted to turn around. He spun you towards him and your body collided with his chest. His hands cupped your face and the next moment his lips were on yours.

It was a hard, hungry kiss, making up for lost time. You could also feel that he was fighting himself, hating himself even that he couldn’t just let this end. But you were glad that he couldn’t because if this ended, it would be worse than after that explosion. A little heartbreak, my ass. Chibs Telford owned your heart by now.

He maneuvered your bodies over to the thick carpet by the couch, you starting to undress each other. The clothes went flying, shoes were kicked off. You both got on your knees as soon as you felt the soft fabric underneath your feet.

You pushed him down on his back and pulled off his underwear. Your panties were long gone. You climbed on top of him, reaching down to align his member with your center and sank down on his hard cock until he was fully inside you.

“Ah, fuck”, you breathed out when you felt him stretching you. You had both of your hands on his chest as you started to move your hips back and forth, increasing the pace quickly. Your nails were digging into his skin as you rocked back and forth, leaving marks of your own on him.

Chibs’ hands grabbed your breasts with such a tight grip, it almost hurt. Your hips slammed down on his pelvis with force. It was a hate-fuck at its finest.

You were both moaning loudly and cussing into the air. Chibs was slapping your ass to spur you on even more.

He put his hand around your throat and pulled you down to him. He held you there while he kissed you and started to fuck up into you, digging his heels into the carpet.

You bit down on his bottom lip and he pushed you back at the pain. You shot him a devilish grin and bent down to kiss him again.

His arms snaked around your upper body, pressing you against him and holding you in place as he picked up the pace you had lost for a moment and pushed you right to the edge of your orgasm with that angle.

You buried your face at his shoulder and moaned loudly against his skin. “Fuck, I’m gonna come”, you whined and pushed yourself up on your elbows to come face to face with him.

When your orgasm washed over you, you were staring into his dark-brown eyes, your mouth falling open. Your breath got stuck in your throat before you exhaled with a loud and deep moan, your hips jerking against him and your pussy clenching hard around his cock. Chibs followed with his climax just a stroke of your hips later, growling against your collarbone.

You rolled off him and lay on your back next to him on the carpet. Your breathing was hectic and your bodies covered in sweat.

“So, did I make myself clear?”, you asked, still out of breath, looking up at your ceiling. “Crystal”, Chibs confirmed. After just another moment, he got up and grabbed his pants.

“You’re not seriously gonna leave now?”, you asked in disbelief as you moved up to your elbows. He grabbed the flip phone from his left pocket, checked it and put it back.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Am I allowed to do that?”, he asked and his voice had a mocking tone. You rolled your eyes at him and got up.

“No”, you told him. “Not alone. We’re in California. There’s always a drought somewhere”, you added as you walked past him and over to your bathroom.

You heard his footsteps coming closer rather quickly and the next second you felt his fingers grabbing your sides and tickling you.

You squealed and ran into your bathroom with a giggle.

 After the shower, you moved to the bed, laying down and cuddling up to each other. You must have dozed off because when you opened your eyes again, the bed next to you was empty and your heart sank into your stomach. Not again.

When you sat up, you found Chibs sitting on the foot-end of the bed, smoking. He was in thoughts and hadn’t noticed you had woken up.

You wrapped the sheet around your upper body and moved over to him. You pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades and wrapped your arms around him from behind, putting your chin on his shoulder. He looked over at you out of the corners of his eyes and then turned forward again, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“I can hear you think”, you mumbled after another few minutes of silence, when you realized that he was not going to say anything soon. He exhaled and got up. You now saw that he had put on his underwear again.

He paced in front of the bed, a stern look on his face, his jaw clenching and his brows knitted together. You watched him, tilting your head to the side. He stopped and put the cigarette between his lips.

“You’re not just worried about me, are you?”, you said when you saw his face. He looked down at his feet, taking a long drag of his cigarette. His eyes darted up to you, lingered on your face for a few seconds and then looked down at his feet again.

Something made him nervous and that wasn’t an easy thing to do. And that made you nervous. But that wasn’t what he needed right now.

“You don’t have to tell me any details, I know you won’t, but I wanna be here for you. Tell me as much as you feel comfortable or nothing at all. I won’t ask any questions”, you suggested and held your hand out to him.

He stood there, contemplating. His eyes wandered over your face, then to the floor, then your face again. He sighed deeply and took a last drag of his cigarette before putting it in the ashtray.

He grabbed the hand you were still holding out to him. You moved backwards until your upper body was resting against the headboard of the bed. Chibs climbed back on the bed and followed you. He moved his body between your legs and rested his head on your belly. Your fingers started combing through his greying hair, your thumb caressing his forehead and temple.

He didn’t tell you anything, you weren’t really expecting him to. But you felt his body easing up a bit and his breathing calming down.

You reached over to the nightstand to text Lyla that you couldn’t come in tonight, but it was empty. Your phone was still in your purse by the door. You didn’t dare to move as it seemed that Chibs had fallen asleep.

You kept running your hand through his hair, your other hand stroking his back in a soothing motion.

You would have to apologize to Lyla tomorrow for not showing up but you wouldn’t trade this moment right here for the world.

next part Maybe baby

[starrydixon]

Winter Serenity

Era: Pre-Prison Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Pronouns: She/Her Word Count: 2k Warnings: grief, description of losing a loved one, mild angst, but mostly comfort-fluff!

Summary: After the farm fell and you had lost your sibling during the fallout, Daryl helps you through your grief one winter morning by a creek in the woods. 

A/N: Hello! So, if you feel like you are seeing this fic again, you are not crazy! I had previously posted this fic on my old blog, but want to move it here on my new one so all my works are in one place! Plus, I love this one a lot and just want an excuse to bring it back. Please enjoy!! (ps- I found this gif on Pinterest, so it’s NOT mine! Credit goes to owner!!)

The morning sun rays shone down through the barren tree branches, causing the three day old snow fall that covered the forest floor to glisten, almost as if someone had dumped buckets of glitter onto the ice. The snow crunched under your snow boots that seemed one-size too small while puffs of air fanned out in front of your face with each breath you took. You had found yourself needing some space away from your group, as the stress of living on the road and the endless thoughts that raced through your head was becoming too overwhelming. You hoped that an early morning walk in the woods would help clear your head.

Ever since the farm fell three months ago, living on the road hadn’t been the easiest, especially now that winter had arrived. Before the first snowfall, Rick had warned everyone that he presumed it wouldn’t be an easy winter this season, and he wasn’t wrong. One week later, a snow storm that spanned over two days delivered almost 10 inches of snow. This caused your group to have to take shelter in a nearby barn that, by some miracle, wasn’t infested with walkers.

If having to deal with the winter snow and relearning how to live on the road without the security of food, water, or protection wasn’t enough, you were also dealing with the loss of your sibling. The fall of the barn was chaotic and fast as the herd of walkers broke past the fence and swept through the Greene’s family land, taking over and claiming the space as theirs. You had spent the majority of the time stuck with Rick and Carl, since you caught the young boy trying to sneak out of the farm house to find his father and refused to let him go out in the dark alone.

You had found yourself searching for your sibling's face as everyone began to regroup at the highway. As the Greene family and the Grimes’ reunited, and Daryl and Carol got off of the motorcycle together, your heart sank when your sibling was nowhere to be seen. In a panic, you asked the group if anyone had seen your sibling during the fallout, either escaping in a different direction or being taken by walkers. You hated to even think of the fact that your sibling could have been torn to bits by the mindless, flesh-eating corpses, but you preferred to want to know and have closure than be left wondering if your sibling was still out there somewhere, either alive or turned as a walker.

Unfortunately, it turned out it was the latter, as no one had spotted your sibling during the fall. Against your better judgment, you were adamant on going back to the Greene’s farm and searching for your sibling; Daryl had even offered to take you there on his bike. Rick and the others deemed it a bad idea, as the farm was still dangerously overrun with walkers and they were running low on fuel. After much argument, a compromise was made and the group agreed to stay on the highway for another thirty minutes so you could wait to see if your sibling showed up. This time also allowed the group to strategize on what to do next. To no avail, you tearfully left a note and a map for your sibling to follow if they did end up showing up on the highway before reluctantly leaving the site with the group.

Sighing, you stopped walking through the barren woods and lifted your chin up to the sky. Letting your eyes flutter shut, the warm sun rays hit your cold face, warming up the tip of your nose and the apples of your cheeks. The only sounds that filled the woods were the chirping of birds and the trickling of water that cascaded down a nearby creek (that surprisingly hadn’t frozen over yet). Opening your eyes and blinking away the brightness, you found yourself gravitating towards the creek in curiosity.

A gentle stream of water flowed over small rocks and sticks that sat in the shallow creek. Spotting a large oak tree that was barren of leaves on its branches resigning beside the creek, you sat down on the snow covered ground and leaned your back against the sturdy trunk. Bringing your jean-clad legs up to your chest, you placed your arms on your knees and watched the water current flow down the creek.

Despite all of the bad that infected the world you were currently living in, this small space in the woods was nothing but peaceful. For a quick moment, you had forgotten that the woods you were currently sitting in had walkers roaming in it, or that the weight of sorrow that sat heavily on your chest was due to the disappearance of your sibling.

That moment of peace was short-lived due to the sudden sound of a twig snapping in half coming from somewhere behind you.

Quickly pulling out the hunting knife from the sheath you kept on your hip, you twisted your body around and was ready to jump to your feet to face the possible threat, but stopped when you noticed Daryl Dixon standing a few feet away from you with his trusted crossbow thrown over one of his shoulders and his red poncho protecting him from the cold winter air.

“Are you trying to give me a heart-attack?” You asked the archer before slumping back against the tree trunk, letting out a puff of air you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Just makin’ sure your instincts are still sharp.” Daryl shrugged his shoulders loosely before carefully approaching you, unsure if you wanted his presence or not. When you didn’t give any indication that you found his company unwanted, Daryl took his crossbow off his shoulder and set it down against the tree before sitting beside you.

“Why are you really here?” You inquired while turning your head to face Daryl, who had one leg pulled up to his chest while his elbow rested on his knee. In response, Daryl just shrugged his shoulders. Rolling your eyes, you nudged his arm with your elbow, silently urging him to answer.

“Just wanted to make sure you're alright.” Daryl mumbled reluctantly while ducking his head, avoiding your kind eyes.

Nodding your head in acknowledgement, you didn’t extend the conversation further, not wanting to make Daryl even more uncomfortable then he already was. Besides, you didn’t really need any other explanation; you knew that he and the others in the group were worried about how you were handling your grief.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while, looking out and appreciating the winter landscape that was laid out in front of you. The scenery looked picturesque, almost as if it was a still for a painting. It had everything needed for a perfect picture: an abundance of barren trees whose branches had a light layer of snow coating over the wood, a creek that streamed directly down the middle of the forest, and the glow of the morning sun that illuminated off of the snow covered ground.

Being in the woods during winter made you think of all the winter days you’d spend with your sibling, running through the woods in your backyard and throwing snowballs at each other, or chasing each other with icicles you had snapped off of the porch railings. This memory caused that wave of grief to come crashing over you again, drowning you in an abundance of sadness, denial, anger, and guilt.

“You think they’re out there somewhere? Still alive?” You whispered into the still air before nervously chewing on your lower lip. Daryl stayed silent for a few moments as he pondered over his thoughts.

“M’not sure…don’t know if being out here in this weather alone gives ‘em much of a chance, but they could be.” Daryl replied honestly, not wanting to sugar-coat his opinion like the others in the group have been doing.

Nodding your head, you processed Daryl’s response. You hated the reality of his words, but you couldn’t help but appreciate his truthfulness. After a few more moments of silence fell between the two of you, you turned your head to look at Daryl once again. “Do you think about your brother being out here in this winter, presumably alone with a stump of an arm that probably hasn't healed properly?” You asked cautiously, attentive to Daryl’s sensitivity about the subject of his brother Merle.

“I try not to…but he's one tough sumbitch. Growin’ up we had to survive tons of winters like these.” Daryl admitted before casting you an almost shy look, not used to being so open to someone before. “They both are…tough sumbitches.” Daryl quickly added before ducking his head and gaze away from you.

“Yeah…you’re not wrong.” You felt the corner of your mouth quirk upwards momentarily as Daryl and you fell in a comfortable silence again.

Instinctually, you found yourself leaning your head against Daryl’s shoulder as the sounds of the creek’s running water was the only sound that filled the silence. For a few moments, Daryl’s body had gone rigged due to the feeling of your head resting against his shoulder. You were worried you had crossed a line, and that the closed-off archer would push you away, but you were relieved when you felt Daryl's body slowly relax against your touch.

Oblivious to you, as your attention was primarily focused on the serenity of the woods, a deer and its fawn had silently emerged from the treeline on the other side of the forest, intent on drinking some of the crisp water that flowed down the creek. Noticing that you hadn’t yet seen the deers, Daryl gently shook the shoulder that you were currently resting your head on to get your attention. Fearing that the archer had changed his mind about having you leaning on him, you began to remove your head away from him, but stopped when Daryl pointed his finger towards the deer.

Pausing to take in the sight of the wildlife, a ghost of a smile began to form on your lips as the deer and it’s fawn drank from the creek; their long necks craned downwards while their small white tails fluttered from side to side, indicating that they felt non-threatened by the human presence that sat on the opposite side of the creek. Relaxing back against Daryl’s shoulder, the two of you observed the deer from afar.

“I’m surprised you haven’t grabbed your bow and taken a shot yet.” You whispered towards Daryl while shooting him a playful smirk. Rolling his eyes, Daryl shook his head and readjusted his back against the tree trunk.

“Ain’t a monster, Y/N. Not gonna make that little one a bambi.” Daryl defended himself as he watched the fawn duck under its mother’s belly, seeking warmth and protection from the cold air.

“Aww, Daryl Dixon does have a heart after all.” You teased in a hushed tone, fearful that if you spoke any louder, you’d scare off the wildlife. Scoffing, Daryl lightly shoved you with his shoulder.

“Stop.” Daryl grumbled to you just as the deer and the fawn began to retreat back into the treeline as they had their fill of hydration.

Before completely disappearing from view, the mother deer looked back and stared directly at you and Daryl, one of its ears twitching backwards. You liked to think the deer was thanking you (more directly Daryl) for not harming her or her fawn and letting them roam the forest in peace.

“We should head back and warm up by the fire at camp…it's gettin’ cold.” Daryl advised once the deer had disappeared from behind the treeline.

“Just five more minutes?” You asked while staring up at the archer with gentle eyes. Glancing down at you, Daryl couldn’t find it in him to say no.

“Fine…five minutes.” Daryl agreed as he relaxed against the tree trunk once again. Grinning, you readjusted your head on Daryl’s shoulder until you got comfortable.

With Daryl by your side in the small section of the woods, where no walkers threatened your survival, at the spot under the oak tree where there was water cascading down a creek, it was easy to momentarily forget about the crushing weight of grief that you carried with you and get lost in the winter serenity.

[skinnywalker]

Draftzilla: 1-25 full release

Every draft in my draft box 1 through 26 will be released and here is each one.

Edit: readers I have done it! I reached 1000 followers on this blog!! So I will now start Draftzilla after finishing and publishing my other drafts. Each story will come out in the line-up below.

Can things change for me? (Ted Lasso x fem reader)

Kate Bishop abcs (SFW and NSFW)

Team partner (Richmond team x gn reader)

Sam Carpenter SFW/NSFW ABCs

Argyle smut blurb

Doric x wizard reader

Lovely owlbear (Doric x fem reader)

Soft top Doric x fem reader

RZ Michael Myers SFW/NSFW headcanons

Simon SFW/NSFW ABCs

Inmates (Doric x reader)

Street thief (Doric x reader)

When you awake I'll be there (Doric x fem reader)

Doric's first kiss

How can you do that? (Simon x Gender fluid reader)

The girl of the Village (Xenk x fem reader)

I knew you (Ellie x father reader)

Butcher (Thomas Hewitt x male reader)

Norman Nordstrom with a plus size reader

Easy (Carl Grimes x fem reader)

Victor Crowley blurb

My baby (Joyce Byers x son reader)

Poly lost boys x reader

From our youth under Mary (Edward Nashton x male reader)

Mall Makeup (Karen x fem reader)

Here is the character list I'll release when I can but school has been kind of grueling.

[rustboxstarr]

Grocery Store

Pairings: Eddie Munson X Plus size Girlfriend Reader,

Warnings: Fluff, slightly suggestive (if you squint)

Summary: Getting back at your ex when you run into him in the grocery store

A/N: For all my dumpees who just picture getting back at your ex w/ someone new, this is for u!

Wordcount: 1 k

Masterlist

You stood in the aisle skimming the breakfast serials in front of you, one hand on the rolling cart as the other held onto your handbag. Crunchy nut? Coco pops? Cinnamon crunch? It was hard to decide, you were easy to please when it came to most food but Eddie was particularly fussy with his serial. Yet he’s left you to pick a box while he ran off to pick up condoms, remembering quickly you’d used the last one this morning and scuttling off. 

“Ohh front loops! Please!” You heard a girly voice beg, you ignored the people in the aisle as you continued looking for the perfect cereal. 

“God no, pick something not completely made of chemicals” you heard a deeper voice react. That voice sounded familiar… you pulled your gaze away from the feral and glanced at the couple down the aisle. 

Fuck

It was your ex boyfriend, ugh he just had to be here right now. You quickly looked back but unfortunately before you could escape the scene a voice was heard “y/n?” You closed your eyes and clenched your fists, before turning around on your heels. 

“Heyyy Carl” you groaned in your mind. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” 

You frowned, wasn’t that obvious. “I’m shopping?” You gestured towards your cart. “No yeah obviously, I just mean, you don’t live here?” 

Before you had time to answer a short blond chewing gum stuck her hand out “hey I’m Amanda, Carl’s girlfriend” 

You looked down at her hand and reluctantly shook it slightly “Y/n” you told her. “I know” 

Great so he had talked about you, you weren’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. “I uh I would invite you to have lunch with us.. but I know how you don’t like third wheeling” he averted his gaze. 

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? I don’t like third wheeling, ugh bite me. 

Just as you were about to answer a hand slunk around your waist “hey babe, uh who’s this?” Eddie asked as he tightened his grip, pulling you to his side. 

Carl frowned slightly at the sight, he was clearly under the impression that you hadn’t been able to find a replacement for him. 

“Eddie this is Carl” 

“Carl?” Eddie asked, pretending not to know who he was when in reality he knew every little detail. 

“He’s the guy I dated before you” you couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend. 

“Ahh that Carl” he leaned down obviously intending to whisper to you but failing completely “now I see what you meant by upgrade” you froze as your eyes widened, shoving him slightly.

You cleared your throat “Carl this is uh this is my boyfriend” you told him. Carl frowned slightly. 

Eddie freed his hand by throwing the box of condoms into the cart and sticking his hand out “Hi, Eddie” he introduced himself. 

Carl leaned over and shook his hand, clearly taken aback when his eyes scanned over the cart and read the words on the box Eddie had just thrown in. 

Magnum Condoms, pack of 50. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh uh, yeah this is Amanda” he gestured towards his girlfriend who he was now holding hands with. 

Eddie greeted her with a simple hi. He wasn’t keen on staying long, it was slightly uncomfortable and he wasn’t one for chit chats with girlfriends ex boyfriends and opted for the wing to you “find any good cereal?” He asked. 

You felt just a smidge cocky and looked up at him “how about froot loops?” You asked, a slight grin creeping onto your face. 

“Sounds good” he smiled “where are they?” 

“I’ll go get them” you would have taken any chance to leave that conversation and quickly walked down the aisle to pick up a box of front loops. 

You tossed them in the cart and was immediately under Eddie's hold again. “Good girl” he smirked, kissing you on the lips. You blushed slightly. 

“Alrighty” he clapped his hands together “lovely meeting you, Carl was it?” 

“Uh yeah” 

“Yes, well lovely meeting you, and your lovely girlfriend, but we best be going, we have plans, promised this one I’d take her shopping” he grinned “gotta take any chance to spoil your girl right?” 

Carl laughed nervously, he barely ever spent money on himself and he sure as hell didn’t spend it on someone else. “Course” he chuckled nervously. 

You raised your eyebrows at him as if to say “yeah sure big guy” a look that he was quick to look away from. 

“Well have a nice day” Eddie pulled at the cart, turning it around and slipped his hand back around your waist, walking away from the couple. Just as you turned the corner you heard Amanda’s squeaky voice “why don’t you ever take me shopping?” 

Eddie snorted slightly. “So” you nudged his side with your elbow “do this a lot Munson?” You chuckled. “Do what?” He pretended to be innocent. “Oh you know, lie to help your girlfriend get back at her ex?” 

“Hey, I didn’t lie, I’m a man of my word, which is why I’m taking u shopping after this” he grinned. You smiled brightly at him as he pointed a finger down at you “on one condition” 

“Hit me” 

“We’re going to twilfit, and I’m picking the outfit” you rolled your eyes at him, grasping onto his bicep and giving him a kiss.

---

Obvi he aint taking u to fkn victoria secret, he loves his big girl, he treatin her to twilfit!

[soft-for-them]

I don't know a thing about love - Daryl Dixon x plus size non-binary reader

Summary: A Daryl x plus size non-binary reader based off the song 'I don't know a thing about love' by the White Buffalo.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: This is both a non-binary reader and a plus size reader, so cis people this isn't for you. The reader has been left vague because this is a short fic and not all plus size non-binary people are afab (really, it's real problem with authors, non-binary people aren't women!) This is coming from your very own non-binary/queer op. 👍

Everyone knows that you and Daryl Dixon are partners but everyone also knows that your relationship, or lack thereof, is complicated.

It’s clear you love each other, Rick or Carl could tell you (with various amounts of excitement) about the first time the two of you met, how Daryl’s eye widened, how you smiled like you had be given the sun and moon.

From the very start of joining Rick’s group you had it hard. Having to explain to people that you’re non-binary and not a man or woman was hard, both for yourself because you were coming out again to complete strangers and for them for most of the group aren’t queer.

Carl got it straight away, he happily used your preferred pronouns and asked you many questions most of which weren’t about being trans but where about random this like comic books and how your survived.

Rick, Carol, Glenn and Maggie learnt quickly too whilst the rest took their time getting used to someone so different to their heteronormative life.

Maybe it was because living people are hard to come by, maybe it’s because most of the bigots of the group had met their grizzly end but somehow you feel safer with Rick’s little rag tag group of survivors then the people you house shared with before the apocalypse arose.

Then there’s Daryl.

Now don’t get me wrong, the first few weeks of you joining Rick’s crew he didn’t talk to you, he just stared at you. He was raised by bigoted people and he was trying to be better, before the end of times even began he was trying to be better. He wasn’t racist or homophobic like his dad or brother nor did he go out his way to antagonise anyone (for he isn’t Merle after all) but still he was learning.

He was drawn to you, it made him panic just a bit but he has long realised that he isn’t so straight, that he identifies with both Bisexual, Pansexual and Queer, that he didn’t need a label for one he loves you and two who fucking cares.

But still it took a long time to come to terms with, thankfully you were there with him to help.

He remembers one day when you still were new and everyone was still stuck in the prison out the blue he asked about your jacket, an oversized black denim jacket sparsely covered in handmade patches.

You told him about the small amount of patches that you had; a non-binary flag on the breast pocket, an anti-Nazi patch on your arm, two ridged band patches that really should have been ironed on instead of sew on dotted around, tin badges decorating the collar like a jewelled necklace.

Over the years the jacket has evolved like he has, both have become more outward and full of love.

Daryl still cracks a smile at the back patch adorning your jacket made out of an old t-shirt of Carl’s that depicted a superhero dog.

You and Daryl talk, sleep close, sneak kisses when people aren’t looking, go hunting together, laugh at each other’s silly jokes. You’re out going and talkative whilst he stands back quiet and stoic his eyes always filled with love for you. You share clothes like it’s nothing, he loves holding you close at night the feeling of your plush body against his better than any bed or pillow, he knows you in and out, as do you for him.

But somehow still the two of you have never breached the subject of how much you love each other, you’ve neither had the conversation trying to figure out what to call one another.

Well not until today.

Sitting idly on the front porch of a nice enough house in Alexandria you work away under the watchful eye of your lover.

It was no surprise that you and Daryl were put together in the same home, neither is it a surprise that you both sit so close as the sky starts to turn orange, the sun slowly setting and the moon rising into the sky.

Knees touching, you carefully try to stick on a new patch onto your jacket next to one of many pride flags you’ve acclimated over the years.

Daryl leans over watching you quietly sew wonky stitches, his face almost pressed to the side of your round cheek.

“You know what Daryl?” you whisper, eyes flickering up to look up at him.

He just hums out a yes.

“When I first met you I didn’t know anything about love, I don’t think I fully know a thing about love now but with you I- I well-“ you face goes warm, your fingers stop sewing as he looks up at you with sparkling eyes, “-I think I’m learning because of you.”

He just stares at you for a moment, shock and what you assume is love morphing his face into a sweet smile.

That moment disappears as he leans down and kisses you, his chapped lips gentle on yours, your hands dropping your handiwork on your lap to hold his face in place.

You pull away first but still hold onto him with pin pricked hands, eye still connected staring like a fool at him, happiness flooding through your bodies.

“For years I was told I’d never find love because of who I am-“ you begin again still in a whisper, the thoughts of the long dead people who said such cruel things being pushed away by the many memories of your and Daryl.

You push a piece of his long brown hair back from his face, you smile growing big and proud.

“- but I had been looking for love below and above despite all the dead roaming around and then there you were.”

He lets out a small chuckle, one that isn’t filled with malice like old lovers did but one filled with a joy you’ve only seen for yourself.

“Do you?” he asks covering your wondering hands with his, “Because I do, I love you.”

“So many eyes in the world are searching for love and somehow I find you, of course I love you Daryl.”

The two of you laugh together as you kiss again, the set of wings you were stitching onto your jacket fully discarded as the kiss deepens.

[deafeningmoontragedy]

Grocery Store

Pairings: Eddie Munson X Plus size Girlfriend Reader,

Warnings: Fluff, slightly suggestive (if you squint)

Summary: Getting back at your ex when you run into him in the grocery store

A/N: For all my dumpees who just picture getting back at your ex w/ someone new, this is for u!

Wordcount: 1 k

You stood in the aisle skimming the breakfast serials in front of you, one hand on the rolling cart as the other held onto your handbag. Crunchy nut? Coco pops? Cinnamon crunch? It was hard to decide, you were easy to please when it came to most food but Eddie was particularly fussy with his serial. Yet he’s left you to pick a box while he ran off to pick up condoms, remembering quickly you’d used the last one this morning and scuttling off. 

“Ohh front loops! Please!” You heard a girly voice beg, you ignored the people in the aisle as you continued looking for the perfect cereal. 

“God no, pick something not completely made of chemicals” you heard a deeper voice react. That voice sounded familiar… you pulled your gaze away from the feral and glanced at the couple down the aisle. 

Fuck

It was your ex boyfriend, ugh he just had to be here right now. You quickly looked back but unfortunately before you could escape the scene a voice was heard “y/n?” You closed your eyes and clenched your fists, before turning around on your heels. 

“Heyyy Carl” you groaned in your mind. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” 

You frowned, wasn’t that obvious. “I’m shopping?” You gestured towards your cart. “No yeah obviously, I just mean, you don’t live here?” 

Before you had time to answer a short blond chewing gum stuck her hand out “hey I’m Amanda, Carl’s girlfriend” 

You looked down at her hand and reluctantly shook it slightly “Y/n” you told her. “I know” 

Great so he had talked about you, you weren’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. “I uh I would invite you to have lunch with us.. but I know how you don’t like third wheeling” he averted his gaze. 

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? I don’t like third wheeling, ugh bite me. 

Just as you were about to answer a hand slunk around your waist “hey babe, uh who’s this?” Eddie asked as he tightened his grip, pulling you to his side. 

Carl frowned slightly at the sight, he was clearly under the impression that you hadn’t been able to find a replacement for him. 

“Eddie this is Carl” 

“Carl?” Eddie asked, pretending not to know who he was when in reality he knew every little detail. 

“He’s the guy I dated before you” you couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend. 

“Ahh that Carl” he leaned down obviously intending to whisper to you but failing completely “now I see what you meant by upgrade” you froze as your eyes widened, shoving him slightly.

You cleared your throat “Carl this is uh this is my boyfriend” you told him. Carl frowned slightly. 

Eddie freed his hand by throwing the box of condoms into the cart and sticking his hand out “Hi, Eddie” he introduced himself. 

Carl leaned over and shook his hand, clearly taken aback when his eyes scanned over the cart and read the words on the box Eddie had just thrown in. 

Magnum Condoms, pack of 50. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh uh, yeah this is Amanda” he gestured towards his girlfriend who he was now holding hands with. 

Eddie greeted her with a simple hi. He wasn’t keen on staying long, it was slightly uncomfortable and he wasn’t one for chit chats with girlfriends ex boyfriends and opted for the wing to you “find any good cereal?” He asked. 

You felt just a smidge cocky and looked up at him “how about froot loops?” You asked, a slight grin creeping onto your face. 

“Sounds good” he smiled “where are they?” 

“I’ll go get them” you would have taken any chance to leave that conversation and quickly walked down the aisle to pick up a box of front loops. 

You tossed them in the cart and was immediately under Eddie's hold again. “Good girl” he smirked, kissing you on the lips. You blushed slightly. 

“Alrighty” he clapped his hands together “lovely meeting you, Carl was it?” 

“Uh yeah” 

“Yes, well lovely meeting you, and your lovely girlfriend, but we best be going, we have plans, promised this one I’d take her shopping” he grinned “gotta take any chance to spoil your girl right?” 

Carl laughed nervously, he barely ever spent money on himself and he sure as hell didn’t spend it on someone else. “Course” he chuckled nervously. 

You raised your eyebrows at him as if to say “yeah sure big guy” a look that he was quick to look away from. 

“Well have a nice day” Eddie pulled at the cart, turning it around and slipped his hand back around your waist, walking away from the couple. Just as you turned the corner you heard Amanda’s squeaky voice “why don’t you ever take me shopping?” 

Eddie snorted slightly. “So” you nudged his side with your elbow “do this a lot Munson?” You chuckled. “Do what?” He pretended to be innocent. “Oh you know, lie to help your girlfriend get back at her ex?” 

“Hey, I didn’t lie, I’m a man of my word, which is why I’m taking u shopping after this” he grinned. You smiled brightly at him as he pointed a finger down at you “on one condition” 

“Hit me” 

“We’re going to twilfit, and I’m picking the outfit” you rolled your eyes at him, grasping onto his bicep and giving him a kiss.

---

Obvi he aint taking u to fkn victoria secret, he loves his big girl, he treatin her to twilfit!

[thewritersaddictions]

The Walking Dead: The Law Master List

Rick Grimes

Bullet (09/21/23)

Kinktober Series- Day Seven (10/07/23)

Christmas Stories- Day Twenty-Four (12/24/23)

Kinktober Series- Day Three (10/03/24)

Chirstmas Series- Day Ten (12/10/24)

Michonne

Chirstmas Series- Day Eighteen (12/18/24)

Carol Peletier

Daryl Dixon

Kinktober Series- Day Five (10/05/23)

Holy Innocence (11/16/23)

Christmas Stories- Day Eighteen (12/18/23)

Kinktober Series- Day Eighteen (10/18/24)

Christmas Series- Day Twelve (12/12/24)

The Brutes (Rick x Reader x Daryl)

The Devine Truth (05/11/24)

The Law- @Igotbasicdrag

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Especially for an autobiography

***Reader Request***

Relationships - Fabulously confident reader x domestic dork Daryl. That’s right,  fabulously confident and plus-sized reader from Simply one of those days is back! Have fun, kids, and thank you for the request, anonymous friend!

Pronouns - she/her

Perspective - 2nd person You, 3rd person Him.

When - Alexandria, pre-Negan

Genre - fluffy and romantic! Also might could be a tad steamy; it’s the hormones. Daryl doesn’t mind. Y’all are married.

TWs - it’s not unsafe for work, but you are feeling rather...amorous. Otherwise, we have some crude language during Daryl’s POV

Word count - oh, let me have my fun

Masterlist for more stuff and thangs, and a link to. . . Kofi :D

Him

He couldn’t help but laugh when she dramatically flopped back onto the bed and sighed, “Ugh, I’m so tired!”

And as soon as he did crack up, she was quick to toss back, “Daryl darling, are you teasing me?”

But the pout she was giving him wasn’t serious, a fact proven by her wink as she flipped onto her stomach.

“Oof, apologies, my sweet,” she exclaimed before readjusting so she wasn’t directly on her stomach. “Can’t lay like that anymore, I suppose.”

“Y’okay?” he quickly checked, forgetting all about buttoning his shirt back up to jog over and kneel beside the bed.

“We’re fabulous, don’t you worry.” She hummed and gave him a look he’d very happily grown familiar with. “You’re so sexy when you get all concerned about us,” she purred, and reached out to lightly drag her fingers through his hair to pull him close.

Yeah, that was another thing about her being five months along.

Her own exact words regarding it were: “Lordy, every time I look at you, I want to yank your jeans down, mount you, and have at it.”

His cheeks got all warm as he remembered that particular afternoon. Both because he was currently (rapidly) getting in the mood as he felt her kissing his neck, but also because of the memory itself.

She’d accidentally said that—yes, that, the whole quote, word-for-word—right in earshot of most of the group.

Tara and Glenn were fucking rolling, and he’d never seen Abraham get so red as he wheezed alongside Carol and Rick. Even the reverend guy—sorry, ‘Father Gabriel’—coughed awkwardly to try and hide his laughter from his spot in the corner.

Then Carl had come downstairs wanting to know what was so funny, and for some reason, Eugene had actually started to repeat the damn thing.

Luckily, Michonne spoke up louder, wiping her eyes as she told Carl that “Y/N was being funny about her hormonal changes.”

“You know how I have a flair for the theatric, sweet boy,” she’d told the kid with a wave of her hand and a shrug of her shoulders, even while covering her eyes in embarrassment and trying not to giggle.

Meanwhile in real time, his wife was very effectively getting ready for another round.

He wasn’t complaining.

By then on top of him, she breathed into his ear, “Don’t worry, handsome, I won’t keep you too long.”

His hands were on her beautiful curves, savoring every inch. “Keep me all day, gorgeous, I won’t mind,” he managed to murmur back.

She hummed. Tossed her hair in that confident way he loved so much, and gave him a wicked little smile that turned him on like nothing else. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

You

He’s always so tender afterward. Even after you two ‘have fun’ in a less-than-tender place.

Mmm, like when you’d done it against the back wall of the house that time...or the other time...or that time in the garage on the work bench...or that time on his bike behind the building during that supply run...or the other time...or when...

Lordy, you had no idea how wildly randy you’d be at this point in your pregnancy. Granted, you’d been pregnant just about as long as you two have been physical. Honeymoon baby. When Maggie had correctly guessed the news, she’d playfully lauded your efficiency.

Anyway, for the past several weeks, you swear it’s as if you’re insatiable! In your defense, Denise said it’s entirely normal at this stage.

And, in your defense, your husband is exceedingly sexy, truly a work of art.

The thing that knocks your socks off is the fact that he’s only been at this for five months. He was a remarkable student. And just so...attentive. Generous, you might add.

And it’s so deliciously sweet that whenever you try to praise him about it, he shakes his head and mumbles that “You’re the one who showed me the ropes.”

You gaze down at him sleepily as you lay in bed together. His bare back with his scars and tattoos is showing the rise and fall of his breathing. His legs are barely covered by the sheet, likewise that stunning behind of his. And those strong arms you love to look at so much are draped around you.

You can’t get enough of this, how soft he becomes after. Pun not entirely intended...

And you’d be content to have him keep resting his head against your waist as you play with his messy, messy hair all day. His messy, sexy, rugged, masculine, even a little dirty hair—Lordy, you two only finished a several minutes ago and here you are gearing up again.

How can you be so exhausted and yet so ready to tumble again? You’d thought food cravings and some emotional ups and downs would be the standout of this adventure. Well, you certainly were mistaken.

Instead, you’re very tired and so very, very liable to get aroused.

So tired today, in fact, that you may even possibly, potentially, only maybe...

Oh, there’s no use in denying it: you’re too tired to go on the supply run today. Just thinking about it, you’re almost in tears at the idea of walking up all the steps and packing up boxes of books to lug back.

But you’re equally in near-tears at the thought that you won’t be doing so.

The supply run is to a library this time!

Well, it’s really to a fairly unpicked urgent care clinic abutting a dentistry office, but it’s a block away from a library! Your favorite place! And because you’re so thoroughly tired, all you want to do other than make out with your husband is read, which is just another reason you were so looking forward to going.

Worth a mention is that it’s high time this place had its book collection tended to.

C’est la vie, you suppose. This exhaustion is only temporary.

“What was that sigh for, gorgeous?” your hear him ask you softly as he kisses your stomach and finds your hand to take into his. You could feel the rumble of his voice reverberate through your body from where his lay pressed against yours.

“I’m just being a little dramatic. I’m not looking forward having to get up and put on clothes. Then, the thought of carrying of all those books back to the tru—”

“—Still can’t believe Denise ain’t barred you from doin’ stuff like that,” he grunts to himself, his hand now absently drawing lines on your thigh.

You gave an indignant hmph, then reminded him with a kiss on his head that “It’s considered safe because I’m not adding any strenuous new activities, only maintaining what my body is used to.” You take his hand into yours and bring it to your lips. “And I’m far enough along that it isn’t a big concern.”

Another kiss, then you rest his hand on your breast for safekeeping. “Plus, I’m not lifting as much as I used to,” you add.

His thumb begins to move gently back and forth over it. “And you've been real excited to get more books.”

“Have I ever. I miss my book collection so much. It was fabulous, Daryl.”

Among your collection, you’d had all of Austen, all of the Brönte sisters, all of L.M. Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables, an original copy of ‘To Kill a Mockingbird,’ and only the fancy-bound variety of Shakespeare’s plays plus a signed (signed!) copy of “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings.”

You especially miss the book your mom gifted to you. It was an Evelyn Stuart Hardy illustrated edition from the 1910s of Jane Eyre, your absolute favorite book in the world! It reminded you of her like nothing else...it had been her favorite book, and your granny’s, too.

You’d packed it up and kept it with you after the world fell. It was still with you after most everything else you’d had was stolen.

Until you’d ultimately had to burn it during the winter, when you were still alone.

Not a day later is when you’d run into Beth at the stream. That’s when she brought you to Daryl, and just like that, they brought you into the group. The rest is history, but how you kicked yourself for burning it.

Straightening your posture even while reclining, you push your shoulders back and remind yourself that you made a necessary decision. You’d needed the warmth.

“The shelves here are woefully understocked, darling, and there are plenty of houses to fill up,” you begin to tell Daryl. “I was saying to Deanna just the other day how perhaps we could transform one of the empty ones into an entertainment venue of sorts, keep morale up. Library on the top floor—very convenient if one wishes to browse the stacks with her very handsome, work-of-art husband in private,” you hint.

Does he realize what he’s doing as he rubs his thumb over your breast back and forth like that? Eyeing him, you continue. “A movie theater type room on the bottom or perhaps in the basement, a gaming room, a music room, an art room with supplies in the attic!” You’re getting excited again just picturing it! “Wouldn’t that be so fabulous?”

You hum at the thought, then look down to find him gazing at you with the most...“Daryl? Please don’t look so utterly in love with me, you know how your being in love with me turns me on. And I might mention what you’re doing with my nipple?”

Him

He couldn’t help but snort again—and he stopped doing that thing with his thumb, obviously.

“Your being in love with me turns me on.” Hell yeah he was in love with her, it was impossible not to be. Other than being entertaining as fuck, her confidence and endless optimism had its own gravitational pull, she was smart, caring, and—shit—so damn attractive. And she liked him! That was the craziest part of it.

He’d probably let himself fall for her ever since that time she’d kissed him on the cheek at the outdoor goods place a year or so back.

It was either then or when he’d finally seen her again, after Terminus. It was because of what she’d said that made him finally realize it.

The words hadn’t even been to him, they’d been to Carol. “Alright now, you. Get yourself over there and hug your best friend. He’s missed you.” Those words, weird as it might seem, that was what made him see it.

That realization had been scary enough, so just imagine how he felt next. Her first words to him were spoken softly, so only he could hear.

“Daryl Dixon, I would like to marry you someday.”

And then she’d kissed him as if there was nobody else there at all.

Yeah. He's just glad that sometime after finding the reverend guy—sorry, ‘Father Gabriel’— that he’d gotten brave enough to finally bring up what she’d said. As much as he hated himself at that point in time, he felt safe enough with her that he couldn’t not ask. There was too much risk of losing her again.

“Y’know that thing you said? Before you kissed me that time, Y/N?”

“Which time, handsome?”

His pulse had been going hog wild. “...When I finally saw ya again.”

She’d smiled through her exhaustion, so much like that first day he’d met her. Winked at him.

“That was a very nice one, I must admit.”

And that’s when her eyes grew wide as she’d remembered exactly what she’d said before she’d done so, as well as noticed that he was nervously looking back and forth from her to the reverend guy.

“Oh!”

The morning they’d woken up in the barn after surviving that hurricane was almost when they’d gotten hitched. Almost; Aaron had showed up, though, so it got pushed back only until the group decided to go to Alexandria.

At that decision, she saw no reason to wait any longer. Neither did he.

“It’s just a pity we’ll need to wait until I can lay you down and show you my ‘form and function,’” she’d lightly teased in his ear as she wiped her tears away, fully aware that that time might never actually happen.

For all they knew, their marriage could have been as short as only that day, depending on what lay ahead in that place.

But, turns out, Alexandria was safe. A good place.

So, two days in, she’d brought him to a bedroom in the quiet part of the house, and...showed him the ropes.

And now, he and she had a kid. Honeymoon baby. He was so fucking excited about it.

Denise said in a month or two is when he’d be able to finally feel them kicking around in there.

“So, you’re tryin’ to bring home just how many books today?” he asked Y/N, scooching up from his nook against her waist so he could hold her in his arms. “The whole damn library’s worth?” he teased.

“I would have endeavored to make a dent, perhaps.” Was it his imagination or did she sound disappointed?

“Would have?”

She pulled his arm around her tighter. “I’m just too tired, darling,” she admitted quietly. So that was why she was down.

He curved his body against hers and breathed in the smell of her hair. He didn’t like it when she was down, seemed unnatural. “It won’t be the last time we go.”

“Certainly not. Sasha, Olivia, and myself were calculating just how many trips we might need to take to get enough volumes. Final estimation was three.”

The way she announced that made him grin. “But you had your hopes on comin’ today,” he stated more than asked as he wove his fingers in between hers.

“I did. Libraries and auditoriums are my favorite places. And, it’s simply been a while since I’ve ventured outside the walls. Well,” she considered. “Other than to check on sweet little Enid, she’s quite the escape artist.”

“What kinds of books were you gonna bring back?” he wanted to know. Because he was fixing to bring back every dang one.

But he felt her make a shrug as if it were unimportant, and then she waved it off. “I made a list, it’s on the kitchen island or the coffee table, if I recall.” It was kinda cute that she thought she could fool him into not knowing when she was disappointed.

“What are some of the things on it?” he pressed, gently caressing her belly.

He felt her shrug again. “The useful parts of the reference and how-to sections, especially agricultural ones for Maggie. Oh, and you’ll notice a note regarding a pasta-making book for Shelly.”

She shook her head in amusement. “I appreciate generous helping of homemade linguini myself, so why she hasn’t simply made some by hand to enjoy is beyond me. You simply roll it out flat and slice it, easy as can be, no machine required.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

He moved back so she could turn and face him. “What else?” Come on, tell me what you want, gorgeous.

“Nothing, that’s all it takes to make homemade pasta.”

He grumbled only a little. “I meant the books, Y/N.”

She gave him another playful pout, then went on. “The teens and children here need some new reading material. Glenn will know which comic books are best, and he knows what Carl’s into. Oh, and our sweet Beth adored choose-you-own-adventures, so the kids will really enjoy those, if you find any.”

Fuck. He winced when she mentioned her name. That poor fucking girl. Losing her had been like losing Sophia all over again, but somehow worse because that time, it was undeniably his fau—

“—I can feel where your mind has gone, and as your wife would ask you to not think those things about yourself,” she told him firmly.

And after pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek and reminding him that she loved him, she resumed telling him more about the list.

“Tara could use one or two or several books on tape. She enjoys real histories, but reading is off limits until her concussion is healed more, so she was lamenting the other day. She’s bored to tears and going stir crazy.”

“I would be, too. Must suck.”

“There’s C.S. Lewis for Father Gabriel, ‘The Art of Peace’ for Morgan so he can have a backup copy. Carol and Rick enjoy Agatha Christie, Rick prefers her Poirot series. And Rosita has been very down, as you know, but she once mentioned a joke Fluffy told, so if the DVD section had any of Gabriel Iglesias’ stand-up specials, I was going to take them.”

Was Y/N gonna say what she wanted, though? 

“And um,” She giggled and shook her head. “I was more of going to tease Eugene by taking him home an entire encyclopedia. Oh, and I just found out that Michonne is a fan of cozy mysteries, too! I thought she’d be more the Stephen King variety, but no.”

Okay, finally something Y/N was into: cozy mysteries. Cozy mysteries...um...“What are cozy mysteries?”

“They’re in the mystery section—”

“—Stop,” he snorted.

“In the mystery section, but you’ll know them by their absolutely fabulous titles. They’re all puns!”

Puns. Okay. Um… “W-what kind of puns?”

“I’ve read a lobster shack themed one with the title ‘Drawn and Buttered,’ and Scotland themed one called ‘Under Loch and Key,’ so on so forth.”

Huh. Interesting. He’d bring back some if he could find them, he guessed. Sounds kinda cute.

“Tell me about what you want.”

Believe it or not, she’d somehow managed to toss her hair while laying there, then angled herself to look at his face.

“I was, handsome.” She winked. “Though...”

You

You feel bad for relaying your list of things to Daryl as if he were a servant or as if you were a woman who thoughtlessly ordered her man about.

Maybe it’s your pride speaking, but having him search around for your favorite book(s) is a little too much for you to accept when you’re still so disappointed that you can’t go yourself.

You’re used to being very physically strong, so this stage of exhaustion is a change you’d prefer to ease into, rather than dive into. And you hypothesize that your beloved Jane Eyre would say the same.

“C’mon, let me bring you back at least one book. Just one, gorgeous?”

...You suppose you can mention your genre of choice, at least, especially when he’s asking so earnestly.

“If you bring me back a nice, clean historical romance, I won’t object. Please steer clear of the harlequin section, darling.”

“Done,” he’s quick to announce. Until he sounds confused as he repeats, “Harlequin?”

“The bodice rippers,” you clarify.

“Bodice-rippers.”

You smile, and twist your body so it’s once again flush to his, lay his hand on the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, then arch your back and stick our your chest to make a pose.

“The books covers look somewhat like this, only the woman would have a gown or nightdress on rather than be completely in the nude.” With a light peck to his jaw, you simply must mention next, “And the man on the cover won’t look nearly as delicious as you.”

Which is of course why you next hear “Daryl! Y/N!” called from the main floor.

Him

“We’re coming, Abe! Allow us a moment,” Y/N shouted back.

“Golly, don’t tell us exactly what you two are up to!” was the undeniable voice of Carol that echoed next through the house, as did a very loud blast of laughter from Abraham. What are they, thirteen?

At least his wife thought it was funny. She’d even clapped.

“We were discussing literature, you! Keep your minds out of the gutter!” Y/N cracked up as she called back.

So, he groaned and got himself off the bed, threw his clothes back on quickly, and helped her get hers on. She’d almost fallen back asleep when he was looking for her socks.

Denise said how tired she felt was normal, though, as was the...other thing she was experiencing.

He thought it was gonna be cravings and throwing up like women had on like TV and shit, but nah, just sore boobs and being sleepy in the beginning, and now real sleepy and real horny were how it was going for Y/N.

It was good she was gonna stay home today. He was getting more and more uncomfortable with the thought of her going outside the walls too far with or without him. After what happened to Noah on that supply run, he just...

But he didn’t want to seem controlling or over-protective, so he tried not to protest too much. And she was just so damned excited about the library run, how could he tell her he didn’t like her wanting to haul boxes of books around?

Well, he thanked whoever was up there that she was too tired today.

Plus, now he got to surprise her!

Because fuck yeah, he knew exactly what book he was gonna bring her. It didn’t hit him at first, but he knew the perfect one.

Like, obviously he was gonna grab all the books and stuff on that list, but first thing he was gonna find was that one.

He’d read it in high school. Loved it. Reread it. Reread it again.

Got a good-ass grade on a report about it, too. Did it again the following year, wrote a whole new report and got a good-ass grade on that as well!

He didn’t even realize it was considered a chick book until some asshole made fun of him for it.

Well, fuck that guy, ’cause that book was the shit. And it was an autobiography, the idiot.

And just because it was kinda romantic and the main character was a girl didn’t make it ‘just’ a chick book.

Nah: it was about a kid who wasn’t really loved or treated well, who grows up and tries to stay decent but doesn’t really know what she wants to do, only what’s been kinda laid out for her.

She’s got big balls, a backbone, and the story ends up being a mystery wrapped in a drama and all of it ties together because she makes peace with her family and discovers a new one, then makes one of her own!

Who wouldn’t like that shit?

And, okay, this is dumb, but it was also really funny how the writer used the word ‘ejaculated’ in like every damn chapter. Not one time did that word mean what that word usually means, either.

The first time he saw the word just chilling there in an otherwise normal book, he almost snarfed up the beer he’d snuck into school he was laughing so hard.

Anyway, it was called “Jane Eyre: An Autobiography” and it was fucking amazing. And because it’s set like way back when and there’s a love story without tits in it, that’s fits the criteria of a clean historical romance, right?

Y/N was gonna love it so damn much. He almost asked her if she’d read it already, but decided he’d make it a surprise. There was some fancy wrapping paper he’d seen in Eric and Aaron’s garage, so he was gonna wrap it up all nice, too.

Such a fucking good book.

You

Maggie was a doll and made you a cup of your favorite wild mint tea while you were in the midst of sniffling on the couch about the supply runners having left.

That poor, sweet boy Sam came over shortly thereafter, and you were going to play Mario Party with him like you’d promised, but ended up falling asleep again. You awoke on the couch to find Sam sitting by you, albeit on the floor, between the recliner and the wall, reading The Phantom Tollbooth.

“I read that one when I was your age! Please lend it to me when you’re finished, I’d adore to take that adventure again!” you gushed.

He’s coming out of his shell more and more, but it’s very slow-going. You suppose that with a father like his, it was only natural, even if the man was dead now.

But today, Sam was comfortable enough to smile and start to tell you about his favorite parts of the book, which was excellent.

What’s also excellent is that you falling asleep while he was there seemed to have encouraged Carol to make cookies for him. It was plain to see that she was trying to keep the boy at arm’s length.

She’s terrified of becoming attached to another child for whom she condemns herself inadequate to care for. Her wounds run deep, especially in terms of Sam; she sees parts of herself in his mother.

So, that she gave in and baked for him and didn’t immediately kick him out once you’d accidentally taken a nap was a good sign.

The cookies were fabulous, by the way, and with the mint tea, it made the chocolate (chocolate!) rations taste that much better.

After that, you went on wall duty so you’d be somewhat productive today.

Your official job assigned by Deanna was as a recruiter of sorts; ease newcomers into life here, and go with Aaron, Eric or Daryl when pertinent to talk to survivors.

Only thing was, you hadn’t gotten any new survivors yet, so wall duty and supply running and some babysitting was what filled your days.

But it is nice that yours and your husband’s jobs are connected. He recruits, you welcome.

“Say, sheriff, what time is it?” you called down when you saw Rick taking Judith for a walk.

He looked at his watch. “They’ll be back in about two hours, Y/N,” he let you know you with a smile.

The thought of waiting two more hours got you weepy again.

Although, maybe you could manage to squeeze in another nap after your shift was over.

Him

The place had like 7 copies of that book! Would it be a dick move to take all of them?

Fine, it would. Okay, he’d just take...four—no, three. He shouldn’t be greedy.

That new-looking one was a no-brainer, so that one was coming. Aw shit, and that one had a creepy cover. That one was his, he called dibs. And...shit, look at the really old one. Book people like old copies, don’t they? Aw shit, it’s got pictures in it, too? Damn, these are good-ass drawings.

This is the one. It’s perfect.

Once those were tucked away safely, Glenn helped him find all the other things on her list.

Meanwhile, the rest of the supply runners browsed for stuff like zip ties, tape, and toilet paper, and were getting very distracted by all the books and magazines. And since there weren’t that many walkers in there, it was a good time.

He even remembered the title of the other book he’d ever really liked. It was another he’d read in school, called ‘The Giver.’ He liked that one because the kid mans up big-time and saves the baby’s life. Carl would probably like it, so he packed that up, too.

Then, Glenn popped up from the books-on-tape and DVD section and held out what might have well been a gold bar. Turns out, the British made a whole damn TV series about Jane Eyre six-ish years ago, and this library had the box set.

“My baby sister loved this one. She was in the stage version of it in high school,” Glenn shared with him quietly. “It’ll be nice to watch it again, and Mags will enjoy it.” He coughed a little. What was that smirk for? “That is, if it won’t be intruding on you and Y/N’s private time.”

“Shut up.”

You

...zzz…zzz…zzz...zzz...

Him

It was fine, he could wait until morning. Unless she woke up and wanted a really late supper or something...?

...But Y/N was sleeping like a log.

He slumped his shoulders.

Denise insisted that his wife was fine, checked her blood pressure, all that. He’d been real worried, is all.

Y/N did give him a “Why hello there, Daryl darling” when Denise woke her up to check on her, but she went right back to sleep after, and very happily, by the looks of it.

He knew she needed the rest, but he was also bummed that she was asleep when he got back. Really disappointed, but it ain’t like it was her fault. She had their baby in there, that’s gotta take a lot out of somebody.

He looked at the wrapped present on the nightstand. Eric did him a solid by finding a bow for it.

Then he looked at the copy of Jane Eyre he’d decided to keep as his own, the one with the spooky cover.

And then he felt only moderately like a dick for being excited that he could crack it open and reread it without any interruptions.

Like a kid finding a toy they thought they’d lost, he opened it up, flipped to the first chapter.

Oh yeah, there was the good stuff: “There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.”

That’s right, no long walk for you today, Jane, you get a break. Don’t worry, kid, I remember: you don’t like long, chilly walks ’cause it makes your toes too cold. I don’t like cold toes, neither, that shit ain’t no fun. Just sucks that your dickhead cousin is about to fuck shit up. It’ll be okay, you’ll get out of there.

Okay, kid, let’s see if we can’t get you out of Gateshead by the time I need to hit the sack...

You

When you woke up at 2:32 a.m. and needed to use the facilities like nothing else, you only knew that your husband was asleep in his clothes beside you on the bed, and that he’d apparently borrowed your booklight.

This didn’t phase you, and you went about using the toilet, washing your hands and face, brushing your teeth, and primping your hair as you normally would before bed.

What you learned after you came back was that he’d fallen asleep reading (and had rolled onto the paperback slightly).

That hadn’t happened yet in all five months you’d shared a bed and all of the two years give or take that you’d known him. It was also quite alluring to you, to say the least, and you felt delighted to have found one more thing to love about him as you grabbed the glass of water on the nightstand and took a few gulps.

But what made your panties liable to fall off right then and there was that he’d fallen asleep while reading your favorite book.

Jane Eyre!

Still floored and frozen in place when his groggy “Hey” reaches your ears, you blink out of it, remember to swallow the gulp of water that you’d forgotten about in your shock, and smile back at him.

“Good evening, Daryl,” you are able to respond, returning your glass to the nightstand and crawling back onto the bed.

He’s got an arm around your waist in seconds and has his lips on yours right after. “How you feelin’, gorgeous?”

You make the executive decision to crawl onto his lap and straddle his hips rather than crawl to your side of the bed.

“I’m feeling fabulous.”

“You hungry? I can go grab food, there’s leftover—”

“—Stay here with me, sweet man.”

“Done.” It was dark, but you could see a lazy, shy grin light up his face nonetheless. “I, um, brought ya back somethin’.”

But before he could say or do anything else, you have to kiss him again. And a second time. Might as well do a third for good measure. And by  the third, you realize: he brought you ‘back’ something, not brought you ‘up’ something.

As in, he alluded to having brought something home, not to him having brought a snack upstairs earlier, as you initially thought he’d meant.

“You brought me back something from the supply run, you mean? Other than yourself alive and well?” you coo, nuzzling his neck, content to simply feel his heart beating against yours.

That explains that copy of Jane Eyre. How on earth he knew that was your favorite, you cannot fathom. Unless Carol remembered and told him at some point?

He must have been trying to read it before giving it to you so he’d be able to talk about it.

Your kisses get more frantic.

“Babe, hold up, let me grab the damn thing,” he giggles as you kiss that ticklish spot by his ear.

“It’s right here, handsome,” you let him know, intending to lean back and grab the book for him. That is, until he presents to you a lovely little wrapped gift with a bow on it.

What on earth?

Him

The surprised look on her face was reward enough, and she hadn’t even unwrapped it yet!

She looked almost bashful (Y/N, bashful! That in itself was something!) as she unseated herself from his lap and settled down beside him, taking the package and turning it over in her hands.

“I sense a book in here, I’m already thrilled,” she told him, and looked back into his eyes with that same surprised, almost kinda confused expression.

Finally, she began to unwrap it, so he was finally able to start telling her all about it.

“It’s this really old copy of this book. The story is damn good, I’m tellin’ ya. I even, um...” he trailed off. Shit.

All she was doing was staring at it. Hadn’t even unwrapped it fully.

Why was she just staring at it? Oh shit, and she’s crying. Shit, man. He knew she was hormonal and stuff, but shit, um, okay, what could he do to fix this? What did he do to cause it, though? He was such a fuck up—WHOA, never mind, now her lips were on his.

Kissing her was one of his favorite things, sure, but now he was the kinda confused one. She was crying while she was kissing him.

Over a book?

“Gorgeous, hey. Tell me what’s wrong,” he murmured into her ear when she stopped for air.

In response, she looked at him as if he’d just spoken gibberish.

“Wrong? Abs—absolutely nothing is wrong, you sweet, silly man!” She sniffed again and wiped her eyes before hugging the book to herself. She started kissing him again, too.

He was trying to gather the wherewithal to pull away and ask her again what was going on, buuuut he didn’t want to, not when kissing her was one of the best damn things.

Lucky for him, she ended up pulling back.

“Darling?” She broke out into that gorgeous smile and rested her forehead on his. “I had this exact edition. My, my mother bought it for me as a college graduation present,” she explained, slightly out of breath as she sat back up. “These are happy tears, don’t worry. Though, maybe a few unhappy tears because I miss her and dad but, oh my goodness, I’m so... I feel like I’ve got a piece of her back!”

For all that she just spilled, the best he could do was blink and ask “This same one?”

“The Collins Clear Press, E. Stuart Hardy Illustrated Edition. Oh, Daryl, I am feeling so many things right now!” She hugged it to herself again and sighed. “I had every work of the Brönte sisters, but no less than five copies of Jane Eyre. It’s my all time favorite.”

Okay. Okay, he felt better. So much damn better, shit.

But just to make sure, he had to check, “You like it?”

Yet another kiss was her first answer, followed by “Darling, I adore it.”

She then swallowed and pushed her hair behind her ears. Exhaled heavily, then drew herself onto her knees and—oh, okay, lovin’ this—straddled him again.

“Now, if you’re up for it, handsome, I would like to make very slow, long, drawn-out love to you?”

He made an unintentional groan by way of response, his jeans were getting tight. Oh right, he forgot to put bed stuff on. Pajamas, whatever you call them.

To which Y/N bit her lip and laughed softly. Tossed her hair the way she knew he loved so damn much. “But before I relieve us of our clothing, first I would like to know the mystery behind this.”

She leaned back to grab something…

Oh, his book. She’d grabbed his copy of—aw shit, had he fallen asleep on it? The pages got all bent.

Damn.

You

“If I have this copy, what is this one?”

“That one’s mine,” he tells you shyly. Or maybe he wasn’t speaking shyly as much as he’s getting out of breath because you’re lightly grinding your pelvis over his.

“You have your own copy, Daryl.” Not a question, more of a declaration, but you’re just proud you managed not to moan as you said it. Cool down, mama, let the man talk, you remind yourself.

“Just got it today. I took,” He cracked up and bowed his head as if embarrassed. “I took three of them. The old one was for you, there was a new one that I figured could go in your library, and that one I wanted to keep for me, I dunno.”

Perhaps you’re panting a little right now...“Oh, I think you do know,” you whisper back, endeavoring to slow yourself down. “Now, please tell me how on earth you came to want a copy of your own?”

He makes a shy little shrug. “It’s a good story. The book, I mean. I just, um, read it a bunch of times back in high school—mm, fuck!” he lets out an appreciative groan after you can’t help but buck your hips.

Ah, it's about time his hands found their way under your shirt.

“But, um, yeah, I just really liked it. ’Specially for an autobiography, those are usually so damn borin’—h-hot damn, Y/N,” he chokes out. Okay, you may have done that one on purpose...

You help him take your shirt off. “Everything that is coming out of your mouth, darling, is making me so hot.”

“I h-had a hunch,” he murmurs back with what’s almost a self-satisfied chuckle.

“May I finish removing your clothes, Mr. Dixon?

“Yes, ma’am.”

You’ll tell him that the book is entirely fictional and not really an autobiography later, because right now, you need to press your lips to his along with everywhere else that you can on his body.

Him

Judith was up real early today, he heard her squealing. She was almost walking on her own now, ain’t that wild?

Call him soft if you want, but he was so damn excited that another one was gonna be running around with her soon enough. His own kid, too, how insane was that? And maybe Glenn and Maggie would finally have one, too...

Hot damn, was he feeling soft this morning.

Kinda hard not to be. Y/N was still fast asleep with one thigh wrapped around his middle—oh, he’d just made a pun, didn’t he? Hard-not-to-be-soft. Wait, was that a pun or something else?

Y/n would know, is she awake yet? He looked away from the pages to check on her.

Nah, she’s still asleep. And shit, man, she was damn gorgeous whatever she was doing, just look at her.

Anyway, while his wife was still recharging and while neither of them had to get up just yet, he had gotten Jane all the way through her boarding school years and she’d just met the kid she was nannying.

It’s cool that this copy had footnotes, because he’d forgotten what the stuff the little French girl spoke meant. How do you even pronounce that stuff?

You

As you stretch awake, you have to make a little mmhm in appreciation.

“The first thing I see when I wake up is my husband reading our favorite book. Today’s going to be a very good day, I can tell.” You’re still exhausted today, but that’s alright.

The corners of his mouth prick up and his cheeks redden. “The first thing I got to see was you naked, so it’s already a real good one.”

Oh, how fabulous! He isn’t usually as forward as that, even in private. You’d say he even sounded proud of himself, which is in itself a triumph.

And after last night, oh, he has every right to be proud.

You reach behind you to grab your water glass from the nightstand and take a long, refreshing sip, then hop out of bed and saunter your way to the bathroom. Slowly.

When you turn your head back, you’re pleased to see him staring and adjusting his legs to hide the excitement you just caused.

After freshening up and using the toilet, you slip on some clean undies and pajamas, then pick up the copy he’d given you and clutch it to your chest before snuggling back into bed with him.

“So, how far did we get this morning?”

“Jane just asked Mrs. Thornfield-lady is there are any ghost stories about the mansion they live in.”

“Getting to the juicy parts.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Are you meant to head out again today for your official job?”

After a signature grumble, he closes the book and pulls you to him closer. “Can I bring this with me?”

“I won’t snitch that you’re reading while you’re out there.”

“I meant you, Y/N.” He pauses. “But I should take the book, too, s’good idea,” he grunts, almost as if to himself.

You lightly kiss his cheek. “Let’s get up, sweet man. All three of us need breakfast, and you, as much as I hate to say it, need to put on,” You roll your eyes and sigh in mock-disgust. “Clothes.”

Him

Not that he was good at it, but he was doing his best to try and flirt with her. She deserved all that romantic stuff. Part of him was just still in shock that she was into him at all.

“You sure you want me to put clothes on?” he teased under his breath. That was flirting, right?

He nervously glanced over and saw that she seemed to enjoy it. “I certainly do not. But I have something in mind for later. Would you like to hear what it is?”

Try to sound manly for her and shit.

“Y-yeah.”

Way to go.

“As soon as we’re both home, I would like to bring you back here...” Her fingers were trailing down his chest...then down his stomach…

...to where his book lay in his hands, upon which she tossed her hair and asked in the cutest damn way possible: “Then we can read for a few hours?” 

He didn’t expect her to go in that direction, and he was so damn in love with that woman at that moment he thought he’d fucking burst.

“That sounds perfect, gorgeous,” he chuckled. “It’s a damn good book.”

She bit her lip and and giggled, taking one of his hands into hers and kissing it. "Especially for an ‘autobiography.’”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

hey baby, I would like to request something? if that’s okay💗

angst with rick grimes, if you can? can do a happy ending, don’t have to.

love you💗

.⋆｡I Forgot To Say Goodbye｡⋆.

Rick Grimes x plus size reader

Arguments were not uncommon for you and your husband but they were always resolved by sunset. This time is different

Warnings: ANGST, death, canon typical violence, arguments, canon mc death, brief mention of Carl’s death, pregnant reader

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

A/N: I hope you enjoy my love 😘

Follow and turn on notifications for my library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“It’s too dangerous! There’s so much that could go wrong!” Your voice was strained and nearing its breaking point. It felt like you had been fighting for days at this point, neither of you willing to back down and admit that you were wrong.

Rick ran a hand through his silvery hair and breathed out a heavy sigh of frustration. “It’s the best plan we have but you’re right, it is too dangerous. So tell me, what great idea do you have that will save us all?” He asked sarcastically. 

“Don’t you fucking dare. You know that this is a bad idea too. You’re gonna get all of us killed!” Your eyes burned with tears but you wouldn’t cry, you couldn’t let him think that he got to you.

“At least I’m actually doing something to try and keep us safe.” He spat. Your entire body seized and Rick’s eyes widened. “Darlin-“

You held up your hand, stopping him in his tracks. “I have followed you for years Rick. We’ve survived so much together. I trust you with my whole being but this, this is something that I can’t stand behind. What if the explosives don’t go off in time? What if the bridge doesn’t fall? You’re running into this whole thing blindly and it’s gonna backfire!” You were begging him to listen for once, you needed him and he was ready to kill himself over a plan that you knew would fail.

“What happens if you die? What am I going to do without you? Judith needs you, I need you. Please Rick, we've already lost too much.” You looked at Rick’s old sheriff hat which sat proudly on the mantle in your home. Your husband deliberately looked away, taking a step back.

“Don’t try to tell me what’s at stake. I’m doing this for you! I’m keeping you and Judith safe. I couldn’t-“ He choked on his words for just a moment before he swallowed thickly. “-I couldn’t save Carl but I can do something to save you now. I’ll be back by nightfall.” And before you knew it, his gun was gone from the side table and the door slammed shut behind him.

——————

Judith had been fussy all day- refusing to go down for a nap, throwing her food, even hitting you when you attempted to sooth her. It drove you both to tears and made you feel physically sick. You knew she wanted her dad but she was just too little to understand why he wasn’t there. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out and she fell asleep in the bed both you and your husband shared, her little blonde eyebrows scrunched in anger. You tucked a small blanket around her and laid a soft kiss to her forehead. “He’ll be home soon baby, I promise.”

As the sun began to get lower in the sky, your anxiety grew. You busied yourself with chores that had been long put-off, trying desperately not to think of your husband and the horde of walkers he would be facing. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind was fixated on one thing.

No matter the circumstances or how long you two would be apart, Rick always kissed you goodbye. He would always tell you that he loved you like it was the last time he would ever say it. But today, he just left and you didn’t stop him.

The roar of the motorbike drew you from your thoughts. It was well past midnight now but you sighed in relief. You didn’t care about the fight anymore, you just wanted Rick home. Abandoning the laundry you had folded more than three times, you approached the front door just as it swung open.

Daryl stood alone in the doorway, unable to meet your gaze. “Where’s-“ You couldn’t even get the question out before he shook his head, his dark hair falling in front of his face. “Daryl.” Your voice cracked, just the same as your heart.

“He said ta tell ya tha’ he loved ya.” Your ears rung as you collapsed to your knees, shock making your body numb. Vaguely, you could feel Daryl’s hands on your shoulders, attempting to shake you out of it, but you were lost. 

He was gone. The love of your life was gone and the last thing you ever did was fight with him. When was the last time you told him that you loved him? He would never know how much you regretted fighting with him. He would never see Judith grow. He would never know-

You were fighting for air, barely able to fill your lungs as your mind spiralled. You could see the way that your friend’s lips moved as he desperately tried to speak to you, but you could hear nothing. Black dots littered your vision, quickly getting larger until the blackness consumed you.

——————

“Mama.” A tiny voice cooed as a little hand pushed against your face. You groaned and tried to roll over but the overzealous toddler followed you.

“Rick, could you get Judith?” The floorboards creaked and then her weight was lifted off of you as Judith squealed. “Thank you.” You stretched out on the mattress, savouring the early morning sunlight on your skin.

“Derl! Derl!” She excitedly yelled. Confused, you forced your eyes open. You were briefly blinded by the brightness of the room before your vision adjusted and you were met with the sight of your dearest friend, holding his niece close to his chest, his blue eyes firmly fixed on you.

Your mind was blank for a moment before last night’s events came rushing back to you. Tears rolled down your cheeks and Daryl panicked. “He’s really gone?” He nodded solemnly, his arms squeezing Judith even tighter.

“‘M sorry. I tried ta stop ‘im.” You waved him off, instead sitting up in the now painfully empty bed.

“I need Judith, please.” Immediately, she was thrust against your chest, Daryl stepped away like you were a wild animal ready to pounce. Your daughter settled easily, her chubby hands curling into your shirt as she laid her head on your collarbone. She breathed out a contented sigh, going limp in your hold.

You wiped away the tears from your face before they could fall into her hair. “You can go. I need to be alone for a while.” His jaw clenched tightly.

“Let me get ya some food. Ya need it for the little one.” But he wasn’t looking at Judith. He left the room quietly but not without dropping his bandana in your open hand, and walked mournfully to the kitchen.

You kissed Judith on her temple and leaned against the headboard, letting the tears fall silently. Rick would never know the child growing steadily in your womb.

TWD Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev

TWD

@Becausedarylsaidso @hopefulatrocity @originalsourpatch @eternalrose81 @hc-geralt-23

Rick Grimes 

@minervadashwood @livingdeadblondequeen @honkytonkbabe @nini-trash-forever @itsbqueenthings @blasianbitch @l9ckheed @tinyinfluencerharmony @capsheadquaters @stabmemaybe @marvel-mistress-padawan @bking4000 @graciespies @sydsicr @ambassadortotrilliusprime @mewlingoizys @darleneslane @oxymorondemon

[minervadashwood]

Daryl Dixon x PlusSize!Reader - oneshot

Lucky Charm

Summary: Some people in your group get the flu. Winter is coming on strong, and Daryl does his best to keep the group safe and you warm. Reader is: plus-size, good at first aid, and in love with Daryl (aren't we all?). Tropes: Bed-sharing, first kiss, confessions, unfounded jealousy, fluff Warnings: Sickness (flu), walkers, dead turkey, hunger, Glenn with really bad timing. Notes: This was originally part of Scars and Stitches, but it didn't fit the timeline for that. I think this works well as a standalone story. So I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 4,600

=====

Carl was the first one to get sick. You didn’t think much of it; kids get sick easily. But then Rick started sniffling and running a fever. Still, your group kept going.

Next day, Lori was coughing almost nonstop, and you all had to find some place to settle for a few days. Glenn and Daryl managed to locate a small house down a dirt road, some cheaply made thing with only a few windows, and most of them so tiny it’d be hard to fit through. You picked the lock, then Glenn and Maggie cleared the house.

Once everyone was inside, the sick ones were quarantined in the two bedrooms: Lori in one, with Rick and Carl in the other. Hershel explained the quarantine rules, and then everyone got to work. With Maggie, you nailed whatever you could find over the windows, leaving small lookout points on each side of the house. Meanwhile, Glenn and Daryl set up jury rigged walker alarms in the form of cans and fishing line. Hershel saw to his patients, and Beth began boiling water over the fire Daryl had made in the small fireplace of the main room.  Then, she managed to find 3 cans of green beans in the cabinets. Among the ten of you that was all you had to eat that day.

When Carol’s nose started running that night, she was put to bed with Lori.

Daryl was out the next day, from dawn to dusk. When he got back, you helped him make a couple of broths from roots and pine needles, all the food he was able to find. The sick got fed first, and what was left was shared among the rest of you.

On the bright side, you had plenty of water from a stream behind the house, and Daryl said there were no signs of walkers within half a mile radius. 

You, Glenn, Maggie, and Daryl were the only ones who weren’t sick and could also take down walkers, so watch shifts were established among the four of you. Rick kept insisting on helping out, but Hershel was strict with the quarantine.

Days went by in a haze of routine. You kept watch when it was your turn and did your best to ignore how hungry you were. There was no use talking about it; all of you were going through the same thing.

On the morning of the fourth day, you sat on your sleeping bag daydreaming of spaghetti piled high with meatballs when Daryl started putting on his jacket and vest.

“Heading out?” you said.

Daryl gave you a small nod and put his crossbow over his shoulder.

“Wait up.” You got to your feet, but as you stood, the room spun. You threw a hand behind you, steadied yourself against the wall, and took a few deep breaths.

Daryl grabbed you by the bicep of your free arm. “You sick?” He blinked at you through his shaggy hair, grip tight but not painful. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was scared. But nothing scared Daryl Dixon.

“Not sick. Hungry. Like everyone else.”

He narrowed his eyes and took a step closer.

“Just stood up too fast,” you explained. “Not the first time I’ve gone hungry. I’m fine.”

He stared at you doubtfully for another moment before releasing you. “I’ll be back soon. May be something out there I ain’t found yet.”

“I figured. I’m going with you.”

“No you ain—”

“What if you get sick, too?” you interrupted. “You’ve been running yourself ragged. Going out most of the day foraging then back here to keep watch half the night.”

He stared at you.

You gazed past him to keep from meeting his eyes. “Don’t know what I’d–-what we’d do if something happened to you.” You took a deep breath and forced yourself to look at him. “I can be as quiet as you, so stop this loner bullshit and teach me. That way I can look for food in case something happens to you.”

*

“Must be my good luck charm,” Daryl murmured, pulling the crossbow bolt out of the turkey’s skull.

You never thought you’d salivate over feathers and wrinkled turkey feet, but every single part of that bird had your mouth watering..

“Just saw it out of the corner of my eye,” you explained. “Women have better peripheral vision than men. But men have better depth perception.”

Daryl held the turkey up by the neck. “Must have been eatin’ good. Got to be more somewhere we ain’t looked.”

“Tomorrow?” you asked, thoughts going to gravy and bone soup and chunks of juicy, dark meat.

He nodded and lowered the bird. “Got your knife?”

You pulled your knife from its holster and held it out to him.

He shook his head. “Still want to learn, don’t ya?”

Revulsion was nothing compared to your hunger and need to be useful. You nodded, taking the knife in hand, its familiar handle giving you a sudden burst of determination.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Daryl said, and he taught you to clean a turkey.

*

That night, everyone was the happiest they’d been in a while. Carefully rationed, the turkey would last you a few days more, and there was the hope of more beyond that now that Daryl knew a better place to hunt.

Maggie and Glenn insisted on sharing the night watch, so after supper, you were snuggled in your sleeping bag, content and hopeful and proud that everyone in your group had eaten that day.

Some time later, Daryl crawled into his own bed a couple of feet from yours. You couldn’t help turning to face him, your joy and excitement keeping you from sleep.

“Today was a good day,” you told him.

He gave you the briefest of nods as he settled, laying on his back, arms under his head, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“Thanks for taking me with you. It felt good. Being useful for a change.”

“Who said you ain’t useful?”

“I’m not strong like you or Maggie, and Hershel actually knows what he’s doing. Just wanted to help, is all. So thanks.”

He didn’t say anything else–not that you expected him to–so you snuggled deeper into your bed, ready for sleep.

Beside you, Daryl shifted, getting comfortable. “You did,” he said, his voice low. “Help, I mean.”

Eyes opening slightly, you realized he was facing you, his crossbow and knife the only things separating your two beds.

“Thanks,” you said.

“It was nice. Havin’ you out there today.  You can come next time, too.”

You couldn’t suppress your joy. “Really!?”

Daryl chuckled at you, “Yeah.”

“Thanks, Daryl.”

He flashed you the smallest of smiles. “Welcome. Now get some sleep.”

*

You woke up in the middle of the night, shivering from the cold. It was freezing in here.

Through bleary eyes, you looked across the room and saw Beth, with a handkerchief covering her mouth and nose, carrying a few blankets to the bedrooms. Hershel came out a moment later, headed in your direction.

Sitting up, you rubbed the tiredness from your eyes. “Beth sick?”

“No,” Hershel said. “But we’ve got a cold snap, and Rick and them need the extra blankets. Time for us to snuggle up and share.”

Nodding in understanding and ignoring your painfully cold toes and fingertips, you pulled out the extra blanket you had lining your sleeping bag and handed it to him.

Hershel took it, as well as two more from Daryl. “Beth and I will put our two sleeping bags together. Might be a good idea for you two to do the same.” Hershel adjusted the handkerchief over his mouth and went to check on his patients.

Wouldn’t it have made more sense for Hershel and Daryl to share?

Weary, you sighed. You didn’t have it in you to debate with the stubbornness of Hershel Greene, no matter the butterflies in your belly or anxiety in your chest.

Next to you, Daryl was already unzipping his sleeping bag all the way, huffing and grunting as he spread it face-up on the floor.

You stood, scurrying out of his way and gave your own bed a few small kicks to move it over. Still half asleep, you tried to accept this was really happening. Picking up your knife from under your pillow, you went to your pack for an extra pair of socks. By the time you returned, your sleeping bag was spread out, facedown on Daryl’s. He zipped up the far side, the bottom, and half of the near side. Then he started pulling jackets, flannel shirts and sweatshirts from his pack and laying them on top of the new bed.

Your new bed. That you would share. With Daryl.

Of course this made sense. Beth was still a kid, after all, and probably would want to stay close to her dad. Although never in the same bed or sleeping bag, you and Daryl usually slept beside each other. In fact, ever since your group had left the farm, sleeping next to Daryl felt as natural as waking up in the morning. It was part of your day like anything else.

For a month now, maybe more, you’d been trying not to think what that meant. That at the end of the world you’d met someone who made you feel the way Lizzie did for Darcy or Min felt for Cal. That it was for someone who was as loyal, dependable, and perfect as Daryl.

Forcing yourself to look away from him, you found your coat, jacket, and a couple of button downs, then helped Daryl pile them on top of the other clothes.

While you couldn’t imagine a world without Daryl, you also couldn’t imagine one in which he felt the same about you. Any affection he had for you was surely born out of his innate protectiveness and growing loyalty to the group.

You shook the fantasy of loving Daryl from your mind and moved your pillow to rest beside his, placing your knife under it.

Your knife. You remembered that afternoon on the farm, the laughter and teasing looks everyone gave you the next day. That time Maggie asked if you had any condoms left, having assumed Daryl was sleeping with you. Because of the way he was always staring.

Impossible.

You studied him, broad shoulders and strong back, muscular arms and dexterous hands.

He was too good for you in every way imaginable. You wouldn’t fool yourself into hoping for what would never happen. Best to keep a clear head.

“Good thinking with the coats and stuff,” you told him.

He glanced at you, but continued to study the bed. “I’ll take over watch from Maggie. You don’t gotta share with me.”

Without thinking, you took his forearm, wrapping your hand gently around it. “Daryl, you haven’t slept one night through in almost a week. It’s fine.” You paused, realization like a punch in the gut. “Unless you don’t want to share with me?”

He squinted at you, the muscle of his forearm suddenly tense. You let go.

“Why wouldn’t I want to share with you?” he asked

You gestured at your general existence, hoping he understood.

Without indicating one way or the other, he held up the open corner of the bed. “Get in.”

You crawled in between the sleeping bags, situating yourself as close to the far side as possible.

A moment later, the solid, comforting presence of Daryl was next to you, his broad shoulders taking up more room than you expected, his legs almost touching yours under the heavy weight of the sleeping bag and clothes.

“Ya alright?” He asked.

You exhaled a shaky breath. So close. Any resolve of not wanting him shattered with him so near. How easy it would be to touch him, to put your hand on his chest, to trace the line of his jaw, to let him kiss you.

“I’m good,” you lied.

Both of you were silent when Beth and Hershel returned, and you closed your eyes against the yearning threatening to claw its way out of you. Listening to the two of them settle in, you realized Daryl was motionless beside you, probably already asleep.

You turned to face away from him, dipping your nose under the covers to keep it warm.

Just when you’d resolved to start counting sheep, Daryl moved beside you.

“Thought you knew how I felt about ya,” he said, his voice a near inaudible rumble. “Carol said you didn’t, but yer smart. Figured you had me pegged.”

You rolled over, a mixture of hope and disbelief warring within you. Were you hearing him right?

“The way you feel about me?” you whispered.

He didn’t answer.

“Daryl,” you said, desperate for him to explain. “Say something. Please.”

The silence stretched on, oppressive and suffocating, until he finally whispered, “Thought you knew and just didn’t want me.”

The brokenness in his voice touched something deep within. “You were wrong,” you said, your heart in your throat. “Daryl, you were so wrong.” 

You felt the lightest of touches on your jaw, first a trembling fingertip, then the full roughness of his calloused palm was cupping your cheek.

Eyes fluttering closed, you melted at his touch. Cold extremities forgotten, all you felt was his hand on you.

Daryl’s hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his hold on you firm and steady.

You reached for him, bold and needful. You threaded your fingers in his hair and cradled his head, wanting to hold him like the treasure he was.

Daryl pulled you to him; the softness of your body met the hardness of his. He kissed you, slow at first, and then he was demanding, clutching at you with his hands, drinking from you with his mouth. You held on for dear life, fingertips searching for any bit of exposed skin: his neck, the small of his back beneath his vest and shirt.

It felt so good to kiss him, like you’d been waiting all your life to breathe him in and lap at the fountain of his lips. He slid a leg between yours, pulling you impossibly nearer to him.

And there it was, the spark all the poets had written about, that Arthurian knights had died for. Your core shook with a desperate longing you’d never felt for another person, and as Daryl worked hard at your mouth, you found yourself wanting him to kiss you everywhere else, too.

The front door slammed open.

“DARYL!”

Glenn stood panicked in the doorway. In less than a few seconds, Daryl had extricated himself from your legs and arms, had pulled on his boots and crossbow, and was now on his way to the door.

“Where? How many?” he demanded.

“Not walkers,” Glenn explained, panting heavily. “People. Four or five, I don’t know. They took Maggie.”

Beth burst into tears.

“On foot?” Daryl asked.

Glenn nodded. “I can show you where they went.”

Daryl was almost out the door before suddenly turning around.

You were putting your knife on your belt, grabbing the nearest handgun, and scrambling to find your hiking boots.

“You ain’t goin’,” he said.

“But I–”

He grabbed your wrist and grunted at you. “You need to stay here and protect the others.”

Stunned that he trusted you to protect anyone, you nodded. And with one last look at you, he disappeared out the door.

Pressing a palm to the closed door, you willed yourself to focus on taking care of everyone and not letting yourself imagine the people you loved being murdered by strangers.

You took a quick inventory of the available weapons and ammo while Hershel consoled Beth. You decided the handgun was all you needed. If things got worse than that, you didn’t stand a chance, anyway.

Before your mind could travel farther down that dark path, you carefully loaded a shotgun, and set it next to Hershel. He had to be worried about Maggie, but he was doing his best to stay calm for Beth. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Daryl will get her back. Don’t worry.”

To your surprise, Hershel covered your hand with his own. “Thank you,” he said, with a small smile. “Dixon acts like a crazed wolf, but he’s good people. You both are.”

Unable to accept Hershel’s praise–-he gave it out so rarely-–you bowed your head in acknowledgement, touched by his words.

“I’ll keep close to the house and run back in if I see anything.”

“Good girl,” Hershel said, and turned his attention back to Beth.

*

On the walk back to the house, Daryl trailed behind Glenn and Maggie, remembering your taste and touch.  First time in his life that it felt good to be wrong.

The stupid fucks who had taken Maggie were only after a woman to help some man’s wife give birth. 

But it was over now, dawn was breaking, and he thought of you in bed next to him, soft and lush and so very warm.

Maggie squealed.  “They were doin’ what?”  She was full of giggles, smiling at Glenn, who cast a nervous glance back at Daryl.

“Mag-gie,” Glenn said.

Maggie stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face Daryl.  “You mean, first good thing to happen in three months and I miss it?  You couldn’t have waited until I got back, Daryl Dixon?  You’ve been waitin’ so long already.”

He wanted to tell Maggie to fuck off, but he knew you wouldn’t like that.  “You wanna double date?” he said. “Ain’t happenin’.”

Glenn took Maggie’s hand and urged her to keep walking, mouthing “sorry” over his shoulder.

The moment Glenn faced forward again, Daryl allowed himself a small smile.

*

When Daryl got back to the house, you weren’t where he left you, but Carl was. The kid opened the door, revolver in hand, stupid hat sitting crooked on his head.  Once inside, Daryl saw Hershel and Beth by each of the windows, keeping careful watch out of the peepholes.

Fuck.

Beth leaped up from her post and ran into her sister, wrapping her arms around Maggie in a big hug.

“Where is she?” Daryl demanded.

Beth looked at him from the corner of her eye.  “It was walkers. Just a couple, she said, but she went out to check if any more were nearby.” Beth offered him a sad smile.  “She was really brave.”

Panic hit him, hard and fast, and Daryl found it suddenly hard to breathe. He ran outside to the fresh air and away from Beth’s pitying gaze.

Next thing he knew, the door swung open and Rick was beside him.  Rick slapped a hand on his back. 

“Good. Now that you’re back we can go after her and get on the road.”

Daryl scowled at him. “She ain’t dead?”

Rick furrowed his brow in confusion.  “She went to see where those first two came from.  Left about half an hour ago.  Figured we could catch up and give her a hand.”

Daryl almost sank to his knees in relief, but he just nodded and went to find you.

*

He found you about an hour later, hands and jacket speckled with walker blood as you squatted on the forest floor, studying the dirt. Before Daryl could run to you and pull you tightly against him, you stood and gave Rick a big, warm smile.

Despite the sharp sting of rejection, Daryl instantly noticed something was off. Your eyes were a bit sunken and there was a sallow look to your cheeks.

“You look like you’re doing better,” you said to Rick.

Rick nodded, “But doesn’t look like you are.”

You shook your head.  “Little under the weather, but I don’t think I’m bit. You can check to make sure.”

With a small nod, Rick holstered his revolver and began checking you for bites.  His hands were going under your coat, up your sleeves, and around your legs.

Daryl growled low in his chest. Despite your doubts, he knew you weren’t bit. You’d never put anyone at risk, especially Carol and the kids. There was no need for Rick to touch you like that, to put his hands places only Daryl’s should be.

When Rick finished checking you over, he put an arm around your waist.  “Let’s go back and get you cleaned up.”

You nodded at him, and Daryl resisted pulling you away from Rick’s possessive hold.  As the two of you walked past him, you flashed him a quick smile, but said nothing as you let Rick be the one to lead you back to safety.

At the house, Daryl paced around the perimeter a few times, trying to calm down.  The fourth lap had him even more heated, so he went inside, needing to keep an eye on you even if you wouldn’t speak to him. 

Inside, Carol and Lori were up, too, making the main room crowded and stifling with activity.  Everyone was packing up; Rick was eager to get on the road.

Daryl didn’t like the look of you as you put away the extra food and started folding his clothes. Unable to control himself any longer, he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the nearest bedroom.

Once there, he held tight to your arm and looked you up and down. “You’re sick,” he said.

With your free hand, you touched your forehead.  “I probably am.”

Daryl’s nostrils flared in frustration.  “Then why is everybody actin’ like you ain’t?”

You wrested your arm away from him.  “Because more walkers will find this place soon, and that other group already knows we’re here. Because this isn’t a safe place for Lori to have her baby. Rick thinks it’s best if we move on.”

Daryl had begun to trust Rick more and more in the past few months, but now jealousy and rage were calling all of that into question.

Daryl wanted to pull you into his arms and hold you, but he kept his distance. He wouldn’t let you play him for a fool.

“You doin’ all this for Rick, then?” he asked.  “He gets up and about and suddenly you don’t want me no more?”

You took a step back, gawking at Daryl like he’d lost his mind.

“Answer me!” he demanded, images of Rick touching you plaguing him from one second and into the next.

“Rick is like my brother. I love him, but what I feel for him is nothing like what I feel for you.”

That was all Daryl needed to hear. He grabbed you by the shoulders, hauled you to him, and kissed you hard. 

After a few seconds of his mouth on yours, you pulled away, and Daryl had to let you go.

“Daryl, you’re going to get sick, too if you keep doing that,” you said, clutching at his vest and resting your head on his chest.  “Don’t make me worry about getting you sick.”

Worry? About him? No one in his life had worried about him, and he couldn’t see why anyone ever would.  But you were sincere, with your touch and your words and the way you looked up at him. A tiny flicker of hope flared deep within.  If you cared a fraction of  what he cared for you, then maybe you did worry about him. Just a little.

You took a step back.  “I didn’t want to make a big show when I saw you out there. I don’t know how you feel about everyone knowing, so I wasn’t going to tell them without talking it over with you.” You shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “Besides, I don’t know what you want from this. From me.”

Everything. He wanted everything.

There were footsteps in the hall, and Daryl turned to find Rick standing in the doorway.

“Everything okay in here?  We heard some yelling.”

Yelling? Daryl hadn’t been yelling, had he?

You jumped away from Daryl and turned to Rick.  “We’re good.  Little misunderstanding is all,” you said.

Daryl faced Rick, but kept his gaze on the floor.  “Hershel say it was safe for her to keep goin’?” He grabbed you by the hand. “‘Cause if it ain’t, we’re stayin’.  Y’all go on if ya want.  I’ll look after her.”

Rick smiled with a twinkle in his eye.  “I know you would, buddy.  But Hershel said she looks worse than she is. Probably from not eating enough.  He got a good sense of the virus from looking after all of us.  If she keeps taking the acetaphil—atta-metacin---”

“Acetaminophen,” you supplied.  “Tylenol.”

Rick nodded, “Yep. So long as she keeps taking that and gets enough to eat, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

There was an awkward pause. 

 “Right. Soon as you two are ready,” Rick said and left the room.

Without looking at you, Daryl said, “Glenn saw us. He told Maggie. ‘m sure everyone else knows by now.”  He glanced at you, taking in your soft eyes and parted lips.  He wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

Forcing himself to look away, Daryl whispered. “Don’t care about them knowin’ or not knowin’.” He had to stop and strengthen himself against the insecurity ripping him apart. “I’m not askin’ for more than you already give me. But if you’re goin’ to let me kiss you and hold you, I don’t want nobody else touchin’ you like that.” 

Too scared to look at you, he stared at the floor.

*

Daryl’s hand was trembling slightly in yours, and it infuriated you that he wouldn’t meet your gaze.  This was Daryl, after all.  Who’d looked men right in the eyes and shot them dead, who’d launched himself at a group of walkers armed with nothing but a hunting knife. One time not even that.

There was so much about him you still didn’t know or understand. Even now you only had a small glimpse of the man he was, and, despite his recent openness, you sensed more happening in that head of his than he would ever let on.

You leaned against him once more, breathing in the scent of the earth and leather, relishing it while you still could.

You took his chin in hand and forced him to look at you. “If you think I want anyone else kissing me, you have lost your damn mind.  I have been pining after you—and only you—since what feels like the dawn of time.”

He blinked at you. After taking a moment to process what you said, he nodded.

Relieved, you let go and took a few steps away from him.  “Now, I need something from you. Until I’m better, I want you to stay away from me.  You are the best of us at finding food, and you’ll be healthier if I stay with Carol and Rick’s family.”

Daryl squinted. “What’s that goin’ to change? I already kissed ya last night and again today. I’m goin’ to get what you got anyway.”

“Viral load is still a variable,” you tried to explain. “It’s like walkers. One or two, not a big deal. Three, four, five? A bit dangerous.  More than that?  It just gets worse and worse.  Viruses are the same way.  The less exposure you have, the easier for your immune system to fight it off. I won’t have you risking more than you need to just for me. Okay?”

Daryl nodded, then said, “Alright.”

You exhaled, relieved.

“But,” he said, brushing hair out of his face and looking you in the eyes. “Once you’re better, nothing else is goin’ to keep me from bein’ with you. Wasted enough time already.”

Daryl left the room, and you had to take a moment to catch your breath. 

How long had Daryl been feeling this way about you? Mind clouded by your mild fever and Daryl’s parting words, you left the room and got ready to hit the road.

======

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this feel free to like, reply, or reblog!

Masterlist | Want to be on my taglist?

===

@livingdeadblondequeen @phoenixblack89 @green-eyedladywrites @in-this-minute @takeabreathdeath @ravendixon @gypsytraveler86-blog @xojdmasf @daisy107 @angelrenee239 @sleepyamaya @no-tresspassing

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Falling in love with Maggie Greene, but not having the courage to tell her, until you almost die from an injury while on a supply run. F reader

Btw..your blog rocks

༉‧₊˚. 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 || 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐞

― pairing: maggie greene x fem plus size!reader

― era: season 4

― summary: it started when you allowed yourself to entertain a silly crush that had unexpectedly festered, reaching a boiling point when a run threatens your life.

― warnings: typical twd violence, head injuries, mentions of blood, mutual pining, near death experiences, angst, fluff.

― wc: 1490

⋆ a/n: i feel like it's been too long since i've written a wlw fanfiction, and i'm not going to lie, i have a few wlw wips resting in my drafts, so definitely expect a lot more wlw fanfiction to come out in the next few weeks!

masterlist | AO3

The first thought on your mind when you saw Maggie on that horse was gorgeous, like a princess riding in on her steed to retrieve Lori. Maybe it was an inappropriate thought seeing as though Carl was laid up in one of the bedrooms with a gunshot wound, but you couldn’t help but stare at her with hearts in your eyes during the moment she made eye contact with you. Hershel’s stubbornness was what allowed your feelings for the southern girl to fester; you thought that you would never see Maggie again due to her father wanting your family off his property as soon as Carl was well.

Well, that’s what you thought before Daryl got himself tossed off a horse and impaled with his own arrow, forcing your stay to be extended for longer than you had originally thought. It was safe to say that you were fucked from then on, because the farm went up in flames, soon becoming trapped on the road with her, being forced to share beds, clothes, food, facilities, anything that you could think of, so it wasn’t surprising that you had grown to become like a best friend to her.

It was hard to say the least, to be able to talk to her, to hug her, to allow her to go on runs without you there; you were unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her, and the feeling smothered you like a pillow over your head.

So, when there was an opportunity to go out on a run with a couple of others, you were quick to jump at the space you could put between you and Maggie.

As you stood next to the loading truck, there stood your worried best friend, badgering you about things that you could have potentially forgotten.

“You have yer gun? Yer knife?” She questioned. You laughed airily, “Yes, Mags. I have everything. You’re acting like you’re sending me off to war.” You couldn’t help but joke. “That’s what it feels like.” She responded. You could see it in her face, despite how tough and fierce she was, she was truly worried about your safety. Hesitantly, you swallowed your nerves, gripping her hand in yours and pulling it towards your body.

“Maggie, I’m going to be fine, okay? You know Daryl, Sasha, Glenn and Michonne aren’t going to let anything happen to me. Were a family, a unit, remember?” You asked to comfort her. “I know, I’m jus’ always so used’ta havin' you behind the walls.” You sighed, feeling a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Sounds like you’re going to have a hard time sleeping without me,” You couldn’t help but tease, “Maybe Beth would be fine with being a substitute midnight cuddle buddy.” Ever since the farm had fallen, there was always an unspoken agreement between the two of you, that during the cold nights of sleeping under the stars in the woods, the both of you would gravitate towards the other, sharing your warmth with one another as you held each other close.

That habit had followed you all the way until your family had discovered the prison.

Yes, there were bunk beds, but you’d always find yourself cramped together on the bottom bunk – which happened to be Maggie’s – your head resting on her chest as she ran her fingers through your hair. At one point in time, your constant touchiness could have been received as platonic, but lately, that line had begun to blur, which was why you needed this, needed to get away, just to be able to screw your head back on straight.

“Pfft, she grew outta that once she turned ten.” She joked, finally cracking a smile. “I don’t think I ever will.” You said boldly, looking at her through your eyelashes. You could see her smile widen, her grip tightening on your hand. You peered into each other’s eyes, the feeling causing your throat to feel like it was going to close. Your enamored staring was interrupted by Daryl whistling at you, a knowing smirk on his face that even he couldn’t hold back.

“C’mon, we gotta go!” He exclaimed before turning to straddle his bike. You looked back at Maggie, “I’ll be back,” You said firmly, “I promise.”

Scouring the place was easy, everyone in the group split up, yourself making your way over to the medicine counter. You hopped over it, scouring through the aisles that had long been raided besides a few stray bottles that you decided to pocket.

“So, you and Maggie, huh?” You heard Michonne ask from behind you. Your whole body tensed up; there was no judgement in her voice as she asked you, who would she be if she did? Ever since Rick had brought in Woodbury residents, there had been many gay couples and individuals with different identities. “It’s not like that.” You forced yourself to say, albeit sadly. “I have a hard time believing that.” She scoffed with a smile. “Even if there was…” Before you were able to say anything, a hand shot out from the ground behind one of the shelves, pulling you down. Before you were able to react, you fell headfirst into the shelving, hearing Michonne call out your name as your forehead came in contact with the wood before everything turned black.

Maggie could have sworn her heart stopped as she saw your body being held up by Daryl and Glenn, your arms slung over their shoulders.

“What happened?” She couldn’t help but yell out frantically. “Someone get my dad! Please!” There were tears in her eyes as her hands cupped your face, lifting your head up. There was a gash right above your left eyebrow, bleeding heavily as a bruise had begun to form on your face. “’Chonne said a walker grabbed ‘er, almost takin’ a chunk outta ‘er leg. ‘Face took most of the damage.” Daryl explained, hurdling your body towards one of the cells so Hershel could take a look at you.

You don’t remember what had happened, only that you had a splitting headache, and someone was holding you tightly. Turning your head to the side, you squinted your eyes, allowing yourself to adjust to your surroundings. There sat Maggie, her weary gaze settled on you.

“Maggie? What- What happened?” You couldn’t help but grumble. “You were on a run with the others when a walker got the jump on you. ‘M glad Michonne was there, or ya woulda turned into walker food.” She tried to try and joke around with you, but it seems as though that her gut feeling that something bad was going to happen was true. “Jesus.” You said to yourself under your breath, your left hand that was free of being held coming to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I almost lost you, ya know.” Maggie said suddenly, her lower lip quivering as unshed tears clouded her eyes. “I know you did, and I’m so sorry,” You spoke softly, as if you were afraid that she might break, “I got distracted.” You allowed a crestfallen smile to break out on your face. “Michonne and I were talking about you.” You said breathlessly, your stomach twisting in uncomfortable knots, nerves rattling through your veins. “Me?” She asked, her tone amused. “Yeah. Uh- she was teasing me, about having a crush on you,” You looked down, fiddling with her fingers, “At first, I tried to deny it, but… she was right. I do like you a lot. So much that it feels like I can’t breathe… that I- that I can’t think. Ever since the farm, ever since I saw you on that horse of yours, you haven’t left my head since.” You confessed bashfully, the feeling of bile threatening to rise at the back of your throat.

Your eyes flitted up to hers for a split second before looking down.

“I’m sorry if this makes you feel weird… or if you don’t feel the same. I get that you probably aren’t even into girls and…” You felt two soft hands cup your cheeks, raising your head up so that you’d finally meet her gaze. There was a big smile on her face, one that told you that you were okay. She leaned down, lips gently grazing yours.

There were sparks behind her sweet caresses, ones that drew a sweet gasp from you, your hands gripping hers that were holding your face. Her thumb ran over the plush of your flesh, savoring the taste of you, indulging in the feelings she’s had for you ever since she met you. When she pulled away, you wanted to chase her lips, to drag her back down and kiss her for the rest of your life.

“So, I guess you feel the same?” You asked sheepishly, unsure of how to interpret her kiss. “Lord.” She snorted with a laugh before nodding and pulling you into a kiss again.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Rockets of Love - Chapter Five

Pairing:  Bucky x Plus Size Reader

Chapter Summary:   With the last of your speed dates done, all you want to do is get home and game with Bucky. But first, a little betrayal by your best friend.

Words:  1.8k

Note:  This is a relatively short chapter compared to some of the previous ones.  Thanks for reading, I hope you've been enjoying it so far ❤  if you have please consider giving it a like and a reblog, if you leave a comment with your reblog I will always reply so long as Tumblr doesn’t make it vanish.

I've included a made-up phone number and skype name in this chapter, I have no idea if they belong to anyone, if they do it's definitely not to our bae Bucky - apologies.

Warnings:   alcohol consumption/drunkenness, language, derogatory language, slight stressful situations, self-esteem issues

*** 18+ content - this whole fic is written for adults - minors do not interact ***

Rockets of Love Masterlist

You frantically tried to keep your cool.  Having done so well to keep your real-life identity separate from your online persona, it was ironic that a slip up like this would happen.  You needed to know who this guy was, who he knew and whether he was going to cause problems for you online.

Stressing out, big time, you sent Bucky a message.

Hey, I need to talk to you.  I’m freaking the fuck out here.

MD X

His reply was instantaneous.

Are you ok?  Are you safe?  If you need me, my skype is: James_Buchannan_Barnes.  And my cell is:  347-242-1917.

Please be ok!

Bucky X

The panic in his reply was evident.

Shit!

You had been pretty cryptic but for him to just throw out his contact info like that, he must really be worried, and really care.

I’m ok.  I’m safe.  Still here, in speed dating hell.

It’s nothing life threatening or anything but something came up that I need to talk to you or Steve, or Nat about later.  Sorry for worrying you.

I’ll tell you when I get online later, Mr Hottie 😉

MD X

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”  You mumbled to your next date but didn’t bother making an excuse.  You weren’t really desperate to meet anyone anyway and as the night had drawn on you’d become less and less interested in what these people thought of you.  A buff-blonde fitness freak called Carl sat down in front of you

“No problem.  My friend Tony is a tough act to follow anyway.”  Carl said, nodding towards the sexist dickhead now at Den’s table.

You looked at him in confusion.

“That guy.”  Carl tipped his head to the guy who identified himself as [HDR]Taskmaster.  “He’s been my friend since high school.”

“Good to know.”  You said, trying to calm yourself.  Tony wasn’t paying any attention to you or his friend Carl, thankfully.

“So…”  He said, reading your name from your sticky tag.  “I couldn’t help but overhear that you play Orion Protocol?”

“I do, yes.”  Not this again, please.

“I don’t play but Tony does.  He’s played for years.  Even when I go round to hang out, he’s always playing.”

“To play so long he must be really good.”  You latched on to the fact that Carl seemed more interested in talking about his friend than about himself or you.

“He says he’s one of the best.”  Carl watched you knock your wine back.  This time a waiter just came over unbidden.

“Thank you.”  You smiled and turned your attention back to Carl, who was so deep in his bromance with Tony that he didn’t catch the predatory look you gave him.  “I’ve played with Tony a few times.  He’s fun.  I think I might have went to the same school.”  You lied.

In the five minutes you got to talk to Carl, you found out that sexist dickhead Tony was in fact Anthony Masters of Clapham, London.  You found out what school Tony had went to, his mum and dad’s names (Margorie and Anthony Sr.), the name of his pet Staffordshire terrier (Annabell), and his favourite type of music (house).  You didn’t feel so bad anymore about Tony knowing your first name and being able to put your face to your online persona.

You asked Carl some more questions about where he likes to hang out, and he supplied the name of the gym that they both attend (Ultimate Fitness), along with his (and Tony’s) regular training schedule.  Carl worked as a barber while Tony worked as telesales agent with a well-known TV and phone company.  You wondered absently if your company did tech solutions for the place he worked and whether you’d ever had to speak to him before to bail him out of the shit.

When you said goodbye to Carl, you felt so much better.  You would still speak to Bucky about HYDRA later but you were less worried about [HDR]Taskmaster since you now had enough information to find out his address and phone number, and probably how much tax he paid last year.

Through dates nineteen and twenty you were practically clock watching.  You had been there over three hours now and the relentlessness of meeting new face after new face had taken its toll on you.  Craving the comfort of your own home you had ploughed through more wine than you should have and were pretty much talking gobbledygook at this point.

“Stick a fork in me, I’m done!”  You got up on wobbly legs when the timer ran out on date twenty.  You didn’t even bother to look at his name, which was a shame, he was very friendly and not at all offended by your drunken ramblings.

Becca submitted your sheet for you, frowning at the lack of second date requests you’d made.  Your taxi ride home was filled with her and Den talking about which guys they liked and complaining that you didn’t like any.

“I said yes to one!”  You said in your defence, but your attention had been mostly spent reading emails from Bucky and replying to him.

On my way home now.  You’re sooooo going to regret asking me to play tonight, Mr Hottie.  I’m shit-faced lol.

Meeee XXX

You clicked send just in time to catch Becca reading your screen from your shoulder.

“Fuck off!”  You hid your phone against your chest.

“Who’s Mr Hottie?”

“Oooooh!”  Den cooed.

“You’re such a bitch!”  You smirked, and Becca laughed.

“Seriously though.  You’ve been texting all night and you’re looking quite pleased with yourself about it, so spill.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Oh, of course.”  Becca rolled her eyes and made a grab for your phone.  “Who is he?”

“No one you know.”  You said, relenting ever so slightly.

“Wait!  Is that a picture?”  Becca fully grabbed your phone from your hands and scrolled to the email with the attachment.  “This better not be a dick pic, I swear.”

You tried to wrestle with her but she kept you at arm’s length.  Her arms were longer than yours.

“It’s not.”  You groaned, flopping against the seat in defeat.  There was no use fighting now, she was going to see everything.

“Holy shit!”  Becca laughed in surprise.  “Mr Hottie is actually fucking gorgeous.  Jesus!  How long you been talking to him?  Check him out.”  She showed Bucky’s picture to Denise.

“Months.”  You groaned.  “But not like that.  He’s in my gaming clan.”  You grumbled.

“He’s nice.  How old is he?”

“Actually, I don’t know.”  You closed your eyes, ready to ride out the laughs you were going to get over your conversation with Bucky.

“He seems really funny.”  Becca said, still messing with your phone.

“He is.”  It was only a matter of time.

“And sweet.  Maybe a bit pervy.”  She chuckled.

“That one.”  Den said, in a hushed voice.

You groaned internally.  Looked like they found something worth reading.

“And that one.”  Den said again.

“Come on you ho-bags, just quit already.  You’re killing my buzz and now all I wanna do is fill my face with pizza and go to sleep.”  You whined, closing your eyes to the queasiness in your gut.  Nerves.  Frustration.  Too much wine and a jiggling taxi ride.  Whatever.

The weight of your phone being laid on your thigh made your eyes snap open.  Becca was looking at you with a shit-eating grin and Denise wasn’t looking at you at all, instead she looked sheepishly out the window.  What the fuck had they done?

Your phone vibrated before you had a chance to look at the damage caused and at that moment the taxi pulled up outside your house.

“Text me in the morning.”  Becca said plucking a crumpled up ten from your white-knuckled fist.

She ushered you out of the door and shut it after you, telling the driver to drive away.

Your phone buzzed a second time and you dropped your keys in front of your gate.  The wine and the frustration of the phone hijacking made you stumble as you went for your keys.  You had to use the gate to steady yourself, resting your head against the cool metal.

Your phone buzzed a third time and you just stuffed it into your bag.  Opening the front door was a two-handed job at this point.

Finally inside, you got into your PJs and wiped off your make-up.  The idea of pizza was burning in your brain but at almost 11pm there was no way you were going out for some or try to order some in.  You made toast and a cup of tea.  It seemed like a better idea.

Your phone buzzed again.  It was probably Becca texting to say she’d got home safe or apologising for being a dick with your phone.

In your office/gaming room you got yourself set up to play Orion Protocol.  You had water now, after the tea and toast, and were feeling a little less drunk but still a bit woozy.

As soon as you signed in, Bucky sent you an invite to chat.  It was like he’d been waiting for you.

“Hey, gorgeous!”  There was a slight thickness to his voice that you assumed was the alcohol, and a subtlety to his tone that you associated with him smiling.

“Hey yourself.”  You couldn’t help but grin.  Now that you had a face to put to his voice you could almost see his expressions when he spoke.

It was just you two in the chat.  You started up your game and waited for it to load.

“Did you get my emails?”  He asked.  “I didn’t expect you to send me pictures but I’m happy you did.”

“Wait, what?!”  You almost didn’t register what he said.  “What pictures?”

“You sent me a couple of pictures of yourself.”  He half-laughed.  “Did you drink so much you forgot?  It was only like thirty minutes ago.”

“Ohmygod!”  You groaned, exasperated.  “That little BITCH!”

“Oh shit!  What happened?”

“One sec.”

You threw your headset down and scrambled for your bag.  Pulling out your phone, you opened your conversation with Bucky to find that four pictures of yourself had been sent.

You wanted to cry.

One selfie with you and Den from tonight, one full length with Becca also from tonight, one older picture of you looking all sassy when Becca had asked you to smile for the camera and you’d given her your Disney villain face, and another one where you were in fits of laughter after your mutual friend Ben had shown up to a house party wearing a yellow mankini under his clothes – the mankini made its appearance about 12 cans and 2 hours into the party.

You were absolutely mortified.  How could she do that to you?  Becca was supposed to be your best friend.  She knew you kept your online life and real life separate.  She knew you were paranoid about your appearance despite the faux confidence.  She knew.

You sat on the floor and tried not to cry.