⟢ ┆ stray kids x reader. ot8. established relationship.
⟢ author’s note: helloo! this was requested twice lol so i guess it’s a popular trend going around and i finally brought myself to write it after the odyssey my life went through last month. i had lots of fun with it and i hope you all enjoy it<3
The issue I have with writers doing a "plus-size reader being insecure, so sex is the solution" trope is that it just sexualizes us. Insecurity can also stem from sexualization, just like it can from rejection. Plus-size people face objectification every day, and you're a part of it. It's also so unrealistic; if I'm feeling insecure about my body, the last thing I'd want is someone groping my naked body. Imagine if you were really thirsty and instead of someone giving water, they spit in your face and say, "Well, it's a liquid." That's what y'all are doing with those fic tropes. You're saying, "Oh, you have insecurities? Here's a fic about you getting your puss ate." Also, 99% of these authors who write plus-size characters like that are not plus-size themselves. So, instead of doing research or even talking to a bigger person, they write a crappy, half-assed fic that they think is so different. They praise themselves like they're fucking Liberace. I can give you a quick outline of these fics.
•reader tries on dress
•reader is insecure
•character comes in
•reader cries
•character and reader have sex.
You're like everyone else who treats us like we are not more than our bodies, you're just doing it in a performative way. You're not different, nothing you're doing is new, and if I'm being honest every insecurity->sex fic I've seen has been fucking trash.
This is the beginning of season 9, and since I'm still watching it (for the very first time ^-^), the events might seem a bit strange, but I believe it's on point. I hope you enjoy it, and my sincere thanks to @dixondisease for the idea, I urgently needed one to start adding our lovely Daryl to my masterlist, you're amazing💗.
Lust is a funny thing to feel, and it was a thousand times more intense when you barely had time to think, after all it seemed like the end of the world, but that didn't stop you from continuing to feel it, and it got worse after you met Daryl, a man with a big heart and little ambition, something you could describe as a wild animal trying to adapt to human law, to become domesticated.
It was difficult to get close to him, even from the beginning, when his bastard brother, Merle, was always around, bringing out the worst in the redneck, but after a while being alone with him became a huge challenge for you not to feel attracted to him, after all he's handsome, quiet, loyal to the group even with all the hardships, and it got worse when you saw him smoke: the way his lips adorned the newly lit cigarette, it seemed too hot to bear.
Around that time, Alexandria was going through even worse things to rebuild itself after the fall of Negan's empire and the communities' hatred of having them as survival partners. Did you know that Daryl was furious—rightfully so—with Rick for having to share food with the Sanctuary workers? He thought it was ridiculous that after everything, he himself would still have to command.
This would take effect the next day, and he was apprehensive. He had never even taken control of anything before, let alone commanding almost an army of defeated people?
It was too much, even if Rick, who is a natural leader, could handle it. You kept believing he could do it, but it would be unfair not to remember that that place had already been part of one of the biggest torments of his life, so he was right not to want to stay there.
Today, in particular, you were helping with replanting in the Kingdom, where Daryl had been for a while since it seemed closer to the Sanctuary than Alexandria. Your gaze went straight to him in front of the dining area, making you sigh as you watched him take a cigarette from the pack, put it to his thin, pink lips, light it, and take a drag... and, God, what a sight from hell, his lips, somewhat dry, adorned the cigarette, making you want to wet them.
Was it wrong to think about sex after all that, or was it just a result of everyone needing peace and quiet?
— You're cutting the tomato instead of removing the dead parts from the leaf.- Jesus' voice reaches you, making you blink and wipe the corner of your lips with the back of your glove. How pathetic, you were practically drooling.
— Oh, yes... I am. Sorry, I thought something was wrong.
— With Daryl?
— No, no, something's behind him.
The excuse didn't hold water, but Jesus isn't the type to force an answer; simply understanding that not having an answer is already an answer... like your gaze in Daryl's direction. Returning to the task of replanting and cutting away the dead parts, now with the news that Daryl was still smoking, but leaning against the doorframe of Kingdom's cafeteria.
After taking off his gloves, you noticed he had lit another cigarette; he was probably too stressed, and that made you mentally approach him. You smelled the strong scent of damp earth and the cigarette—maybe this wasn't his second, not that you cared, it was his characteristic smell. Despite this, you knew he was like a big man, less intimidated by approach, having developed a greater affinity for physical contact since the difficult times at the Sanctuary.
So you always approached him and placed your hand on his shoulder; he knew it was you just because of that, exhaling a puff of smoke, looking in your direction with those bright blue eyes, and giving a silent nod.
— Are you really going to the Sanctuary?
— Until Rick changes his mind or I smash everythin' up there.
— I know we're on the same page about disagreeing on this, and it also irritates me that communities need to come together to build bridges, but... there must be a better way to do things.
— With them all dead, I don't believe in any redemption for them.
— Me neither. Can I have a cigarette?- He nods, showing you the pack, but you become the epitome of audacity, slowly taking the cigarette from his lips and placing it on yours, glancing away as if it were nothing.- Thanks.
He looked at you sideways, incredulous, his angry gaze softened by the joke, and instead of making an irritated comment, he grunted as always, took the cigarette back from his mouth and tasted the nicotine and now his saliva mixed together, first touching it slowly with his tongue, and then with his lips.
— If I had known you'd want to taste my saliva, you could have just told me and I would have shown you myself.- And so, he threw his cigarette and stomped on it with his mouth, tilting his face to give it a little kiss, a peck to see if he would recoil. He looked around and scratched his lower lip, but didn't move away.
He just looked at your mouth again, pecking once more, then twice more, until it was actually a kiss without tongue, just lips, somewhat dry, but that wasn't a problem. You extended your tongue to moisten them, hearing a hoarse moan from his throat, feeling relieved that you weren't the only one who had wanted this since the Governor's time; perhaps that's why he was accepting the kiss so readily. A line of saliva formed between your lips, and you extended your tongue to cut through it.
— I can accompany you to the Sanctuary tomorrow, why don't you take today to rest? A coffee, a shower... there's still plenty of water for that, and you know how things are at the Sanctuary.
— Bath?- He frowns, and you agree almost immediately. See him naked? Obviously, that was at the peak of your wishes for a genie.- Oh...
Something clicked, and he realized: you didn't mean it was "just" a shower, of course it was more. And he responded by glancing around, a little kiss of agreement.
— We... uh... in 25. In a little while...
And so it was said, him stomping almost to run away from you, not out of fear, but to hide the erection that had formed inside his pants. Even though he was an old country bumpkin, he didn't know how to deal well with the fact that she would be naked, and soon he would be too.
Not that he was a virgin, but it was a strange, curious feeling every time he got a hard-on, and he felt somewhat frustrated that it was more frequent since he noticed your gaze on him: a strong survivor, but a weak man when it comes to feel horny, he felt that pain, you didn't even do much and you left him disconcerted, that's terrible, but so good... fucking good. It was so disconcerting for him to feel that way over such simple acts; it should be normal, right?
Maybe not for him, who had always been very reserved in these matters, even when Carol played around with making out, he always refrained from getting like that.
But now it was inevitable with you around, he would get lost, feel his ears burning, luckily he has long hair so you couldn't even see it, but even more embarrassing was the painful throbbing inside his jeans.
He didn't even want to think about it, but the image of him as so vulnerable in a place with water was created; just the phrase was frightening, but it was even worse with the figure of another person inside the same cubicle... naked.
Perhaps he should allow himself to be alone with you, because he automatically felt his pants getting wet: pathetic, he was practically leaking just thinking about it.
Daryl Dixon really should have known better.
Should have known that the weird feeling in his chest about you was trouble.
Really shouldn't have been surprised that something ugly and desperate clawed at his chest when the newcomer, Shawn, was obviously flirting with you. Obvious enough that even Daryl knew that's what he was doing.
Really really shouldn't have been surprised when you turned Shawn down after being informed by Carol that the man was in fact flirting with you, claiming that you're already taken.
Wait, what?
Taken?
The fuck?
Daryl Dixon had spent most of his life avoiding complicated feelings.
Mostly because complicated feelings usually turned into pain eventually.
Anger? Easy.
Hunger? Familiar.
Loneliness? Constant enough to become background noise.
But whatever the hell this thing was with you?
That was different.
And honestly, he really should have known better.
It started small.
So small he almost missed it.
The first time you patched up his arm after a run and he noticed your hands were gentle with him in a way nobody’s hands had ever been before.
The first time you laughed at one of his dry muttered comments like he was actually funny.
The first time he woke up beside the campfire at the quarry and found your head resting on his shoulder while everyone else still slept.
That weird feeling in his chest should’ve warned him then.
Should’ve told him he was already screwed.
But Daryl wasn’t exactly emotionally self-aware.
So instead of recognizing feelings like a normal person, he just started unconsciously orbiting you.
Sitting beside you at dinner.
Watching your back on runs.
Bringing you things without explanation.
A better knife.
The last honey bun he found in a gas station.
A stupid little frog keychain he claimed was “just lyin’ there.”
Everyone noticed before he did.
Especially Carol.
Carol noticed everything.
“You know you’re in love with her, right?” she asked one afternoon while skinning squirrels beside him.
Daryl nearly sliced his own thumb open.
“Ain’t in love with nobody.”
“Mhm.”
“Shut up.”
Carol smiled serenely.
“You glare at people that stand too close to her.”
“I glare at everybody.”
“You carried her backpack for six miles because she said her shoulder hurt.”
“She was injured.”
“You stopped Merle from flirting with her.”
Daryl scowled harder.
“That’s called bein’ humane.”
Carol laughed outright at that.
And Daryl spent the rest of the afternoon aggressively pretending he didn’t feel strangely warm every time you smiled at him across camp.
The problem was:
You treated Daryl exactly the same as always.
Which meant one of two things.
Either:
A) You didn’t know he was halfway obsessed with you.
Or:
B) You did know and were pretending not to.
Both possibilities terrified him equally.
So he settled into miserable silence about it.
Classic Daryl Dixon strategy.
Unfortunately, the universe apparently hated him.
Because that was around the time Shawn arrived.
Shawn was young.
Pretty.
Charming in an easy way Daryl had always distrusted instinctively.
He arrived with another small group Rick picked up on a supply run, all polite smiles and clean teeth and confidence.
The kind of man who talked easily.
The kind women usually liked.
Daryl hated him immediately.
Not because he was a bad guy.
That would’ve been easier.
No.
Shawn was nice.
Helpful.
Friendly.
Which meant Daryl couldn’t even justify wanting to punch him.
Didn’t stop him from wanting to though.
Especially when Shawn started hovering around you.
At first, Daryl ignored it.
Mostly because he genuinely didn’t realize what flirting looked like in practice.
Merle’s version of flirting had mostly involved insults and inappropriate comments shouted across bars.
So subtlety escaped him.
But even Daryl eventually noticed.
Shawn laughed too hard at your jokes.
Stood too close.
Touched your arm constantly.
And worst of all—
You laughed back.
Not flirtatiously.
Just kindly.
Because you were nice to everyone.
But Daryl’s stupid traitorous chest still tightened every damn time.
One evening, he was sitting beside Glenn cleaning bolts while watching you help Carol sort supplies.
Shawn wandered over carrying water bottles.
One he handed to you.
One he kept for himself.
Then he leaned casually against the fence beside you and said something low enough Daryl couldn’t hear.
You laughed.
Shawn smiled.
And something genuinely ugly twisted in Daryl’s stomach.
“What’s wrong with you?” Glenn asked suddenly.
Daryl looked up sharply.
“What?”
“You look like you wanna commit murder.”
“Ain’t doin’ nothin’.”
Glenn followed his line of sight immediately.
Then his face lit up with understanding.
“Oh.”
Daryl’s stomach sank.
“Oh what.”
“You’re jealous.”
Daryl stared at him like he’d just spoken another language.
“Ain’t jealous.”
“Dude.”
“Ain’t.”
Glenn grinned.
“You absolutely are.”
Daryl shoved his shoulder hard enough to nearly knock him over.
“Shut up.”
But Glenn kept laughing quietly under his breath while Daryl glared holes through Shawn from across camp.
The worst part was that Shawn was painfully obvious about it.
Even Maggie noticed.
“Poor guy’s trying so hard,” she whispered to you while washing clothes near the creek.
You blinked.
“Trying hard at what?”
Maggie stared at you.
“…Flirting with you.”
Your entire face transformed immediately.
Horror.
Pure horror.
“Oh no.”
Maggie burst out laughing.
“You didn’t know?”
“I thought he was just friendly!”
“Oh sweetheart.”
You buried your face in your hands.
“Oh God, I’ve been accidentally encouraging him.”
Maggie grinned wickedly. “Daryl’s gonna be thrilled.”
You froze.
“…What does Daryl have to do with it?”
Maggie blinked slowly.
Then she realized.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “You don’t know that either.”
“Know what?”
Before Maggie could answer, Carol appeared carrying laundry.
She took one look at your face and sighed.
“What happened?”
“Shawn’s been flirting with her for weeks,” Maggie informed her.
Carol immediately looked delighted.
“Oh this is about to get interesting.”
You groaned.
“No, it’s not. I need to fix this immediately.”
“You could just tell Shawn you’re not interested,” Carol suggested.
“Yeah, but I feel bad.”
Maggie snorted. “You feel bad for rejecting a man you don’t like?”
“Well…”
Carol gave you a knowing look.
“Sweetheart, there’s only one man around here you look at like that anyway.”
Your eyes widened slightly.
And suddenly both women knew.
“Oh,” Maggie breathed.
Carol actually smiled.
“Well. That explains a lot.”
You flushed violently.
“Don’t say anything.”
“Wasn’t gonna,” Carol promised. “But you should probably talk to him eventually.”
Your stomach flipped nervously.
Because talking to Daryl about feelings sounded approximately as easy as wrestling a bear on cocaine.
Meanwhile, Daryl was actively losing his mind.
It got worse over the next few days.
Shawn started seeking you out constantly.
And now that Daryl noticed it, he couldn’t unsee it.
The lingering smiles.
The compliments.
The obvious interest.
It followed him everywhere.
He’d look up during dinner and Shawn was sitting beside you.
During supply sorting? Shawn helping you carry things.
During guard duty? Shawn offering you his jacket.
Daryl hated how irrationally furious it made him.
Because he had no claim on you.
None.
You weren’t his.
Could flirt with whoever you wanted.
Still didn’t stop that awful desperate feeling clawing at his chest every time Shawn touched you.
Rick eventually cornered him about it.
“You’re glaring again.”
Daryl looked up from cleaning his crossbow.
“At who.”
Rick raised an eyebrow.
“Shawn.”
Daryl grunted.
“He annoys me.”
“Because?”
“Talks too much.”
Rick watched him carefully.
Then glanced toward where you sat laughing softly at something Glenn said.
“…You ever planning on telling her?”
Daryl immediately scowled.
“Tellin’ her what.”
Rick looked deeply unimpressed.
“You’re not subtle.”
“I ain’t—”
“You look ready to bite somebody every time another man gets near her.”
Daryl opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Because annoyingly enough, Rick was right.
And he hated that.
The whole thing finally exploded three nights later.
Everyone was gathered around the fire after dinner.
The mood relaxed for once.
You sat beside Carol, smiling softly while listening to Glenn tell some ridiculous story about a walker falling through a roof.
Then Shawn sat beside you.
Daryl’s mood soured instantly.
Shawn smiled at you warmly.
“You busy tomorrow?”
You looked confused. “Uh… probably not?”
“Thought maybe we could go fishing down by the creek.”
Oh.
Oh he was asking you out.
The realization visibly hit you in real time.
Carol immediately looked like she might ascend from sheer anticipation.
Across the fire, Daryl went completely still.
That horrible feeling in his chest twisted hard enough to make him nauseous.
Because now you had to answer.
And maybe you’d say yes.
Why wouldn’t you?
Shawn was attractive.
Easy to talk to.
Normal.
Unlike Daryl, who mostly communicated through grunts and unresolved trauma.
Your eyes widened slightly as you finally understood what was happening.
“Oh.”
Shawn smiled hopefully.
And then—
You laughed nervously.
“Sorry, no.”
Daryl blinked.
Shawn looked surprised. “No?”
“I mean—you’re really nice,” you said quickly. “But I’m already taken.”
Silence.
Complete silence.
Daryl’s brain stopped functioning immediately.
Taken?
Taken by who?
The fuck?
Around the fire, several people abruptly became very interested in not laughing.
Carol physically bit her lip.
Glenn looked one second away from collapse.
Shawn frowned slightly. “You are?”
“Yeah.”
You nodded with increasing confidence now that the lie was out.
“Very taken.”
Daryl stared at you across the fire like he’d forgotten how breathing worked.
Because unless there was another man secretly hidden in the woods somewhere—
What?
Shawn looked disappointed but polite about it.
“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“No, it’s okay! You didn’t know.”
Then, to Daryl’s complete horror, your eyes flicked toward him briefly.
Just briefly.
But enough.
Enough for Carol to make a tiny choking sound.
Enough for Glenn’s entire face to light up.
Enough for Rick to suddenly look exhausted.
Daryl’s pulse started hammering violently.
No way.
No goddamn way.
Shawn followed your gaze.
Then slowly looked toward Daryl.
Understanding dawned across his face.
“Oh.”
Daryl nearly combusted on the spot.
The second Shawn excused himself and left, the camp erupted.
Not loudly.
But in that dangerous quiet way where everyone was trying not to laugh directly in Daryl’s face.
Carol failed first.
A snort escaped her.
Then Glenn lost it entirely.
“Oh my God,” he wheezed.
Daryl looked murderous.
“What.”
Rick rubbed a hand over his face.
“You wanna explain what just happened there?”
You looked equally horrified now.
“I panicked.”
Carol grinned. “And accidentally claimed Daryl Dixon as your man?”
Your face went bright red.
“Well when you say it like that—”
“How else is there to say it?” Maggie asked, delighted.
Daryl still hadn’t spoken.
Mostly because his brain was trapped on one specific thing.
Taken.
You said you were taken.
By him.
You kept avoiding his eyes now, clearly realizing exactly what you’d implied in front of everyone.
“Sorry,” you mumbled finally. “I just didn’t know what else to say.”
Daryl finally found his voice.
“…Why me?”
The question came out rougher than intended.
You looked up then.
Really looked at him.
And suddenly the teasing atmosphere faded slightly.
Because there was something soft in your expression.
Something nervous.
“Because he was asking me out,” you said quietly, like that explained everything.
Daryl frowned slightly.
It didn’t explain anything.
You laughed weakly.
“Daryl.”
Like he was being dense.
Which, to be fair, he was.
Carol finally took pity on both of you.
“Sweetheart,” she said gently to Daryl, “she’s saying she wanted him to know she already belonged to someone.”
Daryl stared at her.
Then at you.
Then back at you again.
Your cheeks burned hotter under his gaze.
“Well,” you muttered. “Not belonged, exactly.”
His chest tightened painfully.
Because suddenly—
Suddenly he understood.
The lingering looks.
The way you always sat beside him.
The quiet touches.
Oh.
Oh.
“You mean…” he started slowly.
You looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
“Yes,” Carol said for you because apparently she enjoyed chaos. “She means you.”
Daryl’s entire body went still.
The fire crackled softly between you.
Nobody else spoke.
Then, very carefully, like the words might bolt if he moved too fast, Daryl asked:
“You… want me?”
Your expression shattered instantly.
Like the question itself hurt you.
“Daryl,” you whispered. “Of course I do.”
God.
God.
The desperate ugly thing clawing around his ribs all these weeks suddenly unraveled all at once.
Relief hit him so hard it almost hurt.
Because you wanted him.
Actually wanted him.
Not Shawn.
Not someone easier.
Not someone softer or smoother or less broken.
Him.
Daryl looked down hard for a second, overwhelmed enough he couldn’t quite breathe right.
Then Glenn ruined the moment immediately.
“So are you guys dating now or—”
“Glenn,” Maggie hissed.
“What? I’m asking!”
Daryl glared at him viciously.
Then looked back at you.
Still nervous.
Still watching him carefully.
Like you thought he might reject you.
That thought alone felt insane.
He stood abruptly.
You blinked up at him in surprise.
Then Daryl crossed the space between you in three quick strides, grabbed your face with both rough hands, and kissed you.
Hard.
Immediate.
Like he’d been wanting to do it for months and finally snapped.
You made a startled sound against his mouth before melting into him instantly.
Around the fire, people started cheering.
Rick groaned.
Carol looked unbearably smug.
Glenn yelled, “FINALLY.”
Daryl ignored all of them.
Because you were kissing him back.
Your hands slid into his hair gently, and the small happy sound you made nearly destroyed him completely.
When he finally pulled away, both of you were breathing hard.
You looked dazed.
He probably did too.
Then Daryl rested his forehead against yours and muttered:
“…Coulda told me sooner.”
You laughed breathlessly.
“Says the man glaring at everyone instead of using words.”
okay so spock (the alien in blue) essentially goes into heat. like literal heat like an animal. Anyway, spock’s in bloodlust in this episode and must go back to vulcan to have sex with his finace (or someone. but its supposed to be his fiance) or he’ll literally die. this is called pon farr and some backstory spock is half human and thought he wouldnt go through pon farr so he abandoned his HOT fiance to fuck around in space except oops pon farr happens so. he and kirk (in yellow getting his tits cut open, he’s also spocks captain and best friend) and their other friend mccoy go to vulcan so he can have sex with his fiance or get married or whatever so he doesn’t die. but then spock’s fiance (t’pring) is like no i dont want to marry spock i want to have him fight someone to death (which she can do) and spock at this point is fully in the ‘blood lust’ and is basically not in his right mind and doesnt get what’s happening. and t’pring picks kirk to be her ‘champion’ in the fight (her logic is that if spock dies in the fight she doesnt have to marry him and if kirk dies, spock will be so upset with her he won’t marry her anymore anyway). anyway kirk doesnt know that its a fight to the death and so he’s like of course i’ll do this fight if it’ll help spock and then he gets told it’s a fight to the death and he goes WHAT and right afterwards spock slices his titties open like in the gif. also eventually spock and kirk roll around in the sand and kirk fakes his death and THIS somehow knocks spock out of his blood lust and he goes back to the ship super sad bc he’s killed his ‘best friend’ only to discover kirk’s alive and we see one of his biggest smiles of the series (a big deal bc spock is vulcan and they dont show emotion). anyway this aired as the season opener in 1967. know your history and all that happy pride
when i was at walgreens (at 3 in the morning which explains all of this) the cashier was talking to her coworker about how shed rather be a werewolf than a vampire because vampires are condemned to hell but werewolves arent and then she asked me what i thought and i said vampire because im already condemned to hell and she said in the nicest tone of voice “i dont think anybody is condemned to hell….” paused, stared at me for a few moments, and added on “…not even gay people”
yousharknotpass
ellievsbear
izzy806
turnnoffyourmind
dededos
andulkaphoto
