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myhappylittlesideblog · 2 days

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chapter summary: daryl dixon was everything you despised in a man: rude, unkempt, derisive, scornful and unarticulated. yet, daryl dixon was also everything you craved in a man: mysterious, rugged, self-sufficient, masculine, aloof, and much older than yourself. it was the worst sort of enigma to place yourself in, especially during the throes of a damn apocalypse – and yet here you were, fighting tooth and nail to try and get closer to the man who hadn’t even bothered to tell you his name himself.

word count: 3.6k

c/w: language, suggestive themes/thoughts, a bit dialogue heavy, younger!fem!reader, first meetings, older/younger, undisclosed age-gap, subtle bickering, instant attraction, brief allusions to death/loss, super minor angst (maybe?), pre-season one at the quarry camp

prologue: start of doomsday

being raised by a brother ten years your senior gave you ample time and experience to grow accustomed to being dubbed with various nicknames.

goob, goober, snot, shrimp, brat, princess – you’d heard all of those and many, many more. you had long since learned to let them bounce off of you, to simply roll with the flow and ignore them.

but when he’d given you a nickname, why, you simply couldn’t let it roll off your back; couldn’t stop yourself from replaying the exact moment he’d first called you it, couldn’t refrain from stewing over the way it had rolled – all gravelly, husky and derisive – off his tongue.

“well, ain’t’chu jus’ a doll, girly?”

doll.

he had called you a fucking doll.

and girly. as if you were some sort of child.

it was such a puerile thing to get hooked up on, something so trivial and immature – especially when compared to the more pressing concerns that you should be worrying about; such as the dead slobbering for your flesh and the dwindling food supplies within the camp.

maybe it was because when you had approached him you were just a hairs-width from a mental breakdown, the world nothing more than a mere crumble around you, and his rudeness acted as the straw that broke the camel’s back.

or maybe it was because you were simply trying to be nice, for fuck’s sake, and the moment he’d laid sight on you he decided he would harbor a personal vendetta against you, for no real reason other than he could – or wanted to.

you didn’t even know his name. and it had become painfully obvious that he’d taken great lengths to make sure no one in the camp did; when you’d approached shane about him moments after that fateful incident, shane had spared no more than a glance in the direction the man had stalked off in and shrugged.

“no idea who he is, really. he kinda just showed up.” was all shane had said, as if what had just transpired was trifling at best – and, deep down inside, you knew it was; a man copping an attitude with you was the least of shane’s worries, and it was petulant for you to expect him to place it above everything else that was already piled onto his platter, that it was stupid to expect him to do something about it as if he were a parent getting onto a child.

but you just couldn’t help it.

you hadn’t been able to help it for days.

those words rang through your head every time you saw him, sauntering around the camp with a scowl, lugging around that clunky crossbow like it was some sort of deterrent, like no one would be brave enough to approach him while he had it within his reach – it just flat-out irritated you.

you were only trying to be nice.

“I don’ need no damn help. I can find a tent jus’ fine!”

“prick.” you muttered under your breath, only realizing that you’d audibly expressed your distaste at the memory when a cool, damp hand gripped your bicep.

“you okay, (y/n)?” andrea asked softly, stroking her thumb over your skin soothingly. you shot the older woman a small smile, shirking off the irritation that had built under your skin from the mere thought of that man.

“yeah, yeah. I’m good, andrea. thanks.” you returned your focus to the bin of dirty laundry you had abandoned in favor of recounting sore memories and began to scrub near-viciously. this happened a lot, too, when you thought about him. the thoughts would pop up unprompted, and then everything else would fade away into mere white noise – you were sure it was incredibly frustrating for those who shared your assigned tasks each day.

andrea hummed softly and uncurled her fingers from your bicep to return her hand to her own basin once more. silence fell over the group of women washing clothes at the lakeside, nothing but the cries of forest birds, rippling water and churning splashes against the walls of multiple basins acting as a melody to the activity.

that was, until amy spoke up, her voice airy and strained by amusement that she tried to desperately to conceal. “so, uh, who’s a prick?”

you whipped your head over to glare at amy as muted giggles arose around you, and she vehemently avoided your eyes lest the smile teasing at her lips grew into a full on grin. heat flared over your cheeks and you blew out a puff of hot air, equal parts embarrassed and irritated that you were caught angrily musing over that man red-handed. again.

“no one.” you stated simply, voice weak even to your own ears; and with the way amy’s shoulders began to tremble with contained laughter, you knew she had picked up the lack of conviction within your tone as well.

she just knew you too well.

you had met the harrison sisters the morning after the bombing of atlanta. they had been among the group of people that shane had led to the quarry. amy was sociable, nice, and outgoing, fluttering around the camp and offering bottled water and protein bars to everyone around her. close in age, you’d clicked with her almost instantly, drawn in by her bubbly personality and likeness to yourself; the two of you had been nearly inseparable since, and you even considered her to be a best friend despite the fact that you’d met her only a little over a week ago – falling in with andrea seemed all but inevitable, and you couldn’t say you hated that.

andrea was more reserved than amy was, but no less kind. you weren’t sure if it was a facet of her personality or simply because she had seen the bond forming between amy and yourself, but andrea had, at some point, taken you beneath her wing and treated you as if you were an extension of her own family – it was comforting, but in some ways, it made your heart ache.

because you’d had that once before; had it in the form of broad shoulders, dark hair, blue eyes, and a voice of reason that could talk down even the most insane of serial killers.

you’d had it in the form of rick, ten years your senior and your best friend, tied to you by more than just shared blood.

“I’m serious,” you pressed, smiling through the sudden onslaught of ache within your chest. “I wasn’t talking about anyone.”

“okay.” amy responded simply, dragging out the ‘y’ in way that conveyed exactly how much she believed you in that instant. you chuckled lowly and shook your head, willing the pain in your chest to ebb away quickly, before it swelled to something too big to contain; a knot was forming in your throat, one that had become far too familiar within the past couple weeks, and swallowing it down was growing harder and harder.

amy’s attempt at prodding fell to silence again, one that the others seemed content in, completely ignorant to the turmoil roiling within you. the silence acted as a catalyst rather than a balm, an overwhelming force that prompted the small cut in your chest into a growing chasm, and in a desperate attempt to strike conversation and sow it back up, you said, “I was talking about that guy with the crossbow.”

laughter erupted around you – the first painful stitch. amy nudged you with her elbow with a light guffaw – the second stitch, a little less painful than the first.

“yeah, I kinda figured as much.” andrea acknowledged with a laugh. “you’ve been in knots over him ever since he first showed up.” the third stitch, nearly painless.

“I have not!” you rebuked, even though a small part of you knew it was true. the man had simply waltzed into camp one day, a string of squirrels thrown over one shoulder and his crossbow slung over the other, a scowl on his face and body covered in filth and grime. sweat glistened across his brow and over the skin of his exposed biceps, and when he spoke, it was with a southern drawl that had drawn you in nearly instantly.

he was attractive as hell, at least he was to you – you became instantly overwhelmed by the desire to talk to him, to know him, to get closer in some way; but perhaps you should have observed him a bit more before practically cornering him and offering your help. maybe then you would have been able to foresee his reaction, and you wouldn’t be in this torn-up state in the first place.

“he is a bit of a prick, though.” amy conceded. “I think the only reason shane allows him to stay is because he can hunt.”

that chasm had been successfully sewn up by now, but the flesh around it was still achy and sore, sensitive to any prod and poke. you’d have to tread carefully to avoid reopening it, at least for now.

“I’m sure he’s got other skills.” you weren’t sure why you were defending the man after just insulting him and stewing over him, but for some reason, it irked you for him to be likened to as a one-trick pony. maybe it was simply the cursed attraction you had to him.

“and I’m more than certain you’d love to figure out just what those other skills are.” jacqui, who had been stationed furthest from you, piped up for the first time. your mouth popped open, your eyes widened, and heat flared to your face while the others erupted into laughter. amy’s laugh was the most notable, loud and boisterous, and despite the slight mortification you felt at jacqui’s suggestive (but true) statement, you found yourself laughing along.

you wondered just how obvious you must have been about your attraction to the man for even jacqui to have noticed; you didn’t talk much with her, but when you’re sequestered into a camp fending for your lives against the walking dead, you supposed it was only natural to pick up on things about the people around you.

had the man noticed it, too?

after all, you had, without a doubt, noticed things about him; things that no one would notice unless they had their eyes on him a little too much.

you noticed the small things that made him attractive; the subtle age lines around his eyes and lips, the creases along his forehead, the bags beneath his bottom lids, the semi-permanent frown fixed upon his face.

you noticed the things about him that stirred your gut, that pooled heat between your legs and brought about carnal arousal within you; the broad width of his shoulders, the way those shirts with the cut-off sleeves framed and accentuated his biceps and torso, those small glimpses that his pants sometimes gave you of his package, the way he sauntered around, glaring at everyone, cold and unapproachable – like a dark, gloomy castle just waiting to be turned into someone’s conquest.

most of all, you noticed the clear difference in age between the two of you – fuck… it had to be at least ten years, right? if you were lucky, it may even be larger than that.

your gut twisted with the familiar sensation of arousal and your sex throbbed between your legs, prompting you to close your thighs together in an attempt to stop it. or maybe get some friction, you weren’t sure.

this was becoming a big, big problem.

“(y/n)! aunt (y/n)!”

a shrill, childish voice called out to you from the gravel road yards from the lake, effectively dousing the low-burning embers in your belly. you whipped your head back and cupped a hand over your eyes to shield them from the sun. you smiled widely at the approaching form of carl, your one and only nephew, and discarded the wet shirt in your hand in favor of turning your entire body to face the boy.

“hey, carl! what’s up?” you questioned the exuberant child when he halted just feet away from you, panting heavily and dowsed in sweat. you reckoned he must have run all the way here from the camp. what an energetic youth.

“there’s something going down in camp. shane’s fighting with this weird guy! he has a gun!”

your heart tripped over itself and you quickly rose to your feet, shooting a hand out to grip carl by the shoulder and draw him closer. a threat of this magnitude hadn’t shown face in the camp yet, and despite the fact that it wasn’t within your jurisdiction to handle matters such as these, you couldn’t push down the instinct to do so.

“amy, could you finish up my part, please?” you asked kindly, sending the young blonde a pleading look from over your shoulder. she nodded and reached over to pull your basin closer to her, throwing a cheery “you owe me!” at your back and prompting a chuckle from your throat. uneasy murmurs had broken about amongst the women at the lake, though amy seemed unbothered by the same circumstances, focused completely on her task where as the others had slowed to a distracted crawl.

“yeah, I do, thanks. okay carl, take me to camp.” you ordered the boy, who nodded and shrugged your hand from his shoulder before dashing forward, kicking up dust from beneath his heels.

you swallowed down the command for carl to slow down that swelled in your throat and instead picked up your pace; if it was true that shane was currently grappling with someone, you couldn’t waste any time on chastising carl or slowing the pace. you had to get to camp to de-escalate the situation if it called for it.

by the time carl had broken through the foliage around the camp, your ears picked up the unmistakable rumble of shane’s voice; it held that same stern yet soft tone that he used when talking to criminal suspects – you’d been there when he’d done it before.

“… just hand me the gun and tell me your name, and we can get this all sorted.”

“I ain’t handin’ya my gun, pretty boy.” this voice was different; rugged and hoarse and dry, as if the owner of it had just chain-smoked a whole pack of cigarettes. “alls I’m lookin’ fer is my brother. I don’ have any other business with ya.”

shane sighed heavily just as you broke through the green shrubbery surrounding the east side of the camp. his hands were glued to his hips, lips pursed and eyes narrowed in annoyance at the man a few feet in front of him. when carl had first mentioned a gun, you worried that the man may have been pointing it at the ex-officer, or others; but it was instead holstered at the man’s hip, untouched and non-threatening.

“look, man, I get that. I don’t think you’re gonna hurt anybody; but we’ve got women and children here, and you’re a stranger with a gun. I can’t take any chances. I’m sure you understand.” shane coaxed further, removing a hand from his hip and extending an open palm to the man. the man glared down at shane’s hand but made no further movement; he didn’t reach for his gun, nor did he shift his feet at all, hell, you couldn’t even tell if the man was breathing at this point. but it was obvious this man wasn’t a threat – but if shane continued to pester him this way, he very well could become one; and with carl right next to you, that was a chance you couldn’t take.

shane huffed loudly and you saw his fingers twitch, as if he were barely holding back from striking at the man. you swallowed down your trepidation and pushed carl back, clearing your throat subtly before marching right up next to shane to confront the man.

“what’s your brother’s name? maybe we can help you find him; if he’s here.”

two pairs of eyes simultaneously snapped to you – one pair dark and narrowed in a harsh glare and the other quickly lighting up with barely-concealed interest. the stranger, a man with a buzz cut and wiry face, smiled widely at you, the tip of a pink tongue slipping just barely from between his lips as his eyes trailed your body. you pushed away the shiver that threatened to crawl up your spine and held the man’s gaze confidently until he was done with his blatant show of lewd conduct.

when his eyes met yours once more, there was a coy, feline smirk upon his lips, and his croaky voice had dropped a few octaves when he responded, “daryl. his name is daryl.”

for a moment, you sat silent, gnawing on your inner cheek and wracking your brain for just who ‘daryl’ could be. you didn’t know the names of every person in camp, but that list of unknowns was short – only three people. your heart constricted. could it be?

“so, your brother’s name is daryl. what’s yours?” shane piped up, voice edged with aggravation, as he rocked back on his heels and slipped his thumbs through his belt loops. the stranger’s eyes never left your body as he opened his mouth to respond, but the voice that echoed back didn’t belong to him.

“merle? what’d’ya think yer doin’ here?”

you didn’t have to look over your shoulder to know who the shambling footsteps behind you belonged to. your stomach twisted in on itself when a warm hand pushed you aside by the thick of your bicep, not too roughly but enough to have you stumbling slightly, the contact brief but enough to leave tingles in its wake. you glanced at the man between yourself and shane, taking note of the grimace on his face as he stared down the stranger.

the stranger, merle, took no heed to the glares that were fixed upon him. he smiled widely and threw his arms out as if expecting a hug.

“baby brother! isn’t it obvious? I’m here lookin’ fer ya.”

“you know him?” shane inquired, jerking his head in merle’s direction, eyes locked on the man between the two of you.

the man – daryl, as you now knew – shuffled on his feet and cast his eyes to the side, giving shane a brief once over. after that, daryl returned his eyes to merle and nodded.

“yeah. tha’s my brother.”

shane ran a shaky hand through his hair and chuckled hotly, muttering something underneath his breath. trepidation fluttered in your gut. you’d known shane long enough to know exactly what those mannerisms of his meant, and it didn’t spell anything good. you had a bad feeling shane was about to say something either highly stupid or highly impulsive; more than likely something that was both of those things at the same time.

“y’know, I don’t really have a problem with you, daryl. I never have. but this” – shane gestured to merle, who was still standing with his arms extended and that wide smile on his face – “is a bit dangerous. when you came here, you didn’t tell us jack about you; we didn’t know who you were, where you came from, or who you knew. and I didn’t bother to ask.”

daryl hadn’t moved a single inch since shane began speaking, eyes still fixed on merle, but the discomfort was plain as day on his face, and you felt irritation begin to bubble hot beneath your skin. granted, daryl was a haughty, antisocial prick, but why was shane acting like he did something wrong?

“I mean, this is just–”

“what’s your point, shane?” you cut the man off, a bit rudely, turning a sharp-eyed glare to him past daryl’s chest. shane’s eyes widened fractionally as if he hadn’t expected you to interject yourself, yet again, into a matter that he was handling on his own.

“my point is that daryl put us all in danger.” shane pressed, lowly, with a hand wave towards merle and dark eyes glaring daggers into yours. “we don’t know him, and we don’t know his brother. for all we know, merle could have stormed into camp, gun blazing-”

“but he didn’t.” you rebuked impatiently. you crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head subtly to the side. “and that’s a risk that comes with everyone in the camp. we don’t know anyone here, other than each other. and even so, you haven’t seen me in three years. I may as well be a stranger, too.”

“that’s different. you’re like a little sister to me.” shane rebutted, prompting an eye roll and hip jut from you. you wouldn’t consider shane a brother even if he’d spent every moment of your youth with you. you swallowed down that statement in favor of keeping yourself on track with the real issue at hand.

“my point still stands. nothing bad happened, so why don’t you just cool your jets and back off a bit?”

shane’s lips thinned into a line, dark eyes darting between you, daryl and merle a couple times before he heaved a great sigh.

“okay, fine, you’re right. nothing happened. but I’d still like to have a conversation with both of you, if that’s alright.” shane conceded, directing his final statement at the two brothers still locked in a stare down. daryl only gave the tiniest of nods to display that he’d even acknowledged shane’s statement, and, satisfied with the knowledge that tensions had been quelled, you turned on your heel to head back to the lake and check on the progress of the laundry.

unbeknownst to you, the event that had just transpired would turn out to be the catalyst to a soon-to-come tension between shane and yourself, as well as the act that had garnered you a modicum of respect and interest from the rude, attractive man that you were sure would never even notice you; and that little problem that you thought was becoming much too big was only going to grow larger, and very quickly.

chapter one

a/n: tbh I struggled a bit with this one. it is just a prologue, a means of setting up the deeper story, but I still wanted it to come out as good as possible, and I feel I didn’t quite articulate that. but before this finalized version, I went through at least three drafts before finding this one to be somewhat adequate. if you guys enjoyed this one nonetheless, please show it some love! if you’re looking forward to more updates, consider following or being added to the taglist!

TAGLIST: @daryldixmedown

#daryl dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon series #crush series

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myhappylittlesideblog · 2 days

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chapter summary: reality is certainly a hard pill to swallow – but in order to keep moving forward, swallow it you must.

word count: 4.2k

c/w: language, bickering, excessive use of apostrophes (courtesy of the dixon accent), subtle bodily description of reader (tits and hips, nothing too in-depth), low key sexual harassment I think (merle checks reader out a lot), blossoming friendships, minor angst, suggestive thoughts, brief mentions of grief/loss, subtle tension, pre-season one

chapter one: dislocated introductions

it had been some time since shane ushered the two men into his tent for a ‘discussion.’ in fact, by the time you’d walked down to the lake and back, the men were still inside the tent. you weren’t nervous about it, per se, but you certainly hadn’t liked the look on shane’s face as he guided them to the tent.

he looked… uncharacteristically angry. it was a look you hadn’t seen on his face in all the years you’d known him, which were quite a few – even when the world had been blown to shit, even as he watched the napalm drop into the streets of atlanta, even when he recalled the massacre he’d witnessed in the hospital, he hadn’t looked that angry.

it had you wondering why.

to you, it didn’t seem like such a big deal. shane’s reaction would have been understandable had merle been waving his gun around or pointing it at someone, or if he’d been threatening the camp in some way. but all merle had done was show up and ask for his brother, albeit a bit argumentatively; but he kept his gun holstered to his hip the whole time, never even reaching a hand down toward it.

and, honestly, who didn’t have a gun on them with the world in the state that it was?

shane’s reaction had appealed as more of an overreaction in your eyes. you could understand mistrusting complete strangers, especially ones who were armed, but the way shane handled it just seemed so… extreme. and to be angry at daryl for his brother’s choices? just ridiculous.

you had to physically restrain yourself from creeping closer to shane’s tent in an attempt to garner an earful. from this distance, you couldn’t hear any of the words that were being passed around within, but so far no yelling had broken out. you were sure the whole camp would be able to hear it if it had. but you were so damn curious; even though it truly wasn’t a matter than concerned you.

daryl wasn’t even supposed to be a concern to you; shane had made it clear right from the start what he thought your concerns should be – but you felt strangely as if daryl’s fate was being decided within that tent, and a part of you desperately wanted to have a say in that for reasons you couldn’t understand.

reasons you weren’t sure you wanted to understand.

“hey, sweetheart.” your concentration was torn from shane’s tent by a soft voice behind you and a warm hand on your shoulder. you whipped your head around and squinted against the glare of the georgia sun, barely able to perceive the outline of lori standing above you.

“oh, hey, lori.” you acknowledged the older woman with a small smile. she returned the gesture with a small squeeze to your shoulder.

“do you know where shane is?” lori queried with a glance around the camp. you grimaced subtly and gestured to shane’s tent.

“he’s in there. he’s talking to daryl and his brother.” you answered, a bit flippantly, still irked by the event that had transpired previously, still unable to remove that expression on shane’s face from your mind.

“daryl?” lori mused, eyebrows sewing together in confusion. you chuckled airily and nodded, using your hands to mimic the act of adjusting a strap over your shoulder.

“daryl, the guy with the crossbow.” you iterated, and lori’s lips popped open in a small ‘o’ shape as she mentally connected the dots.

“I didn’t know he had a brother.” lori hummed thoughtfully as she circled around you, plopping herself down on the wooden crate positioned diagonal from the one you sat on. her dark hair fell strand by strand over her shoulder as she planted her elbows on her knees and leaned forward.

“no one did,” you concurred. “hell, I don’t think anyone even knew his name. I didn’t know it until just earlier.”

lori simply nodded in agreement, glancing over in the direction of shane’s tent. you couldn’t help but notice a strange mist covering her eyes, as if she wasn’t truly seeing what she was looking at. concern gnawed like a tiny beast at your brain, and you leaned closer to the woman and lowered your voice, softly calling, “you okay, lor?”

you wouldn’t say lori and yourself were particularly close – at least not in a way that was inseparable, as you had been with your brother. but lori had certainly lived up to the ‘sister in law’ name, quickly becoming your family in every way but blood; you looked up to her, cared for her, and seeing her eyes cloud over with that look just didn’t sit right with you. especially not with shane’s glare still fresh in your mind.

“what was that, sweetie?” lori asked, almost absentmindedly, eyes never leaving the tent. you swallowed around a tight knot in your throat.

“I asked if you were okay, lori.” you reiterated, placing a bit more force into your tone, which seemed to break her from her trance. her eyes, now clear of that fog, returned to yours and her lips pulled up into a smile.

“yeah, yeah, I’m fine. just a bit… distracted, I guess.”

you weren’t wholly convinced by her answer, but confident enough in the fact that if there was something bothering her she would open up about it, you shirked off the worry and steered the conversation into a different direction.

“where’s carl?”

“carol’s watching him. he’s coloring with sophia right now.” lori responded almost immediately, but a stone still dropped into your stomach when she added, “why is shane talking to daryl and his brother in there?”

“well, I don’t know the full story. I was doing laundry when carl came and got me. I guess daryl’s brother just marched right into camp and demanded to see him.”

“carl was near him?” lori asked, panic eddying into her voice. you quickly reached over and grasped her by the crook of the elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“he was fine, lori. shane and I were both there. honestly, if you ask me, he wasn’t in any danger in the first place.” you barely managed to stifle back a scoff, and lori stared at you as if you’d grown a second head.

“morales told me he had a gun.”

you nodded in agreement. “he did, but he never even took it out of the holster. but shane just… overreacted. demanded that he hand it over.”

lori blinked slowly, once then twice, before she sighed and linked her fingers together between her knees.

“I can’t say if he was overreacting or not. but I know he’s been… stressed lately, so that may have played a part in his actions.”

you bit the inside of your cheek and swallowed down the groan that threatened to bubble past your lips. you weren’t sure what had you so irritated about the whole ordeal, you just were.

“that’s probably why he’s holding a full-scale interrogation in there right now, too, huh?” you quipped.

“he’s probably just making sure they’re good people. you can’t really take chances these days.” lori shot back.

now, you simply couldn’t hold back your scoff. was lori really on the same page as shane?

“daryl has been here for days, and nothing bad has happened. he came in with a crossbow, for christ’s sake! he very easily could have put an arrow between anyone’s eyes by now, but he hasn’t.” you combated, fixing lori with a glare. why were you so angry, anyway?

lori pursed her lips and the muscles of her throat contracted as she swallowed deeply. her knuckles began to whiten from how tightly her fingers were wound together.

“be that as it may, we don’t know his brother at all. daryl could be perfectly sane whereas his brother could be the complete opposite. I agree with what shane asked of him, and I agree with what he’s doing now.” lori implored, her eyes wide with plea; a plea for you to understand.

the irritation within your chest quelled a small bit as you digested lori’s words. could it be, perhaps, that you were the one who overreacted? human nature is a concept that is difficult to conceive, and just because shane’s actions seemed to air too far on the side of caution, you supposed they weren’t completely uncalled for; as lori had stated, merle was a mystery to everyone except daryl, and he could very well pose a threat in the future, even if he hadn’t posed one hours ago.

“I suppose you’re right, lori.” you finally conceded with a sigh, sending the older woman a bit of a sheepish look. your anger towards her and the situation suddenly dawned on you as a bit childish. lori’s lips pulled into a wide smile and she reached over to rub her palm into your bicep.

“it’s okay to have crushes, sweetheart. but don’t let them overtake your sense of reason.” lori murmured, her voice edged with amusement.

you gaped at lori as your cheeks bloomed with heat. crushes? what the hell was she talking about? you didn’t have a crush on anyone.

you were just upset that shane had immediately considered merle a threat without even knowing the man. because shane didn’t know him, and by considering him a threat, he, by extension, called daryl into question and –

oh.

that’s what lori meant.

don’t let them overtake your sense of reason.

slowly, everything began to click into place. the real reason behind your anger and frustration at shane’s actions. it wasn’t because you considered them to be too cautious, but because you didn’t like the idea of shane, or anyone else, viewing daryl as a potential threat.

the one thing you couldn’t figure out was why. why did that irk you so bad? was it because you genuinely felt that, bad attitude aside and no matter how much he annoyed you, daryl was a good guy? or was it because you simply wanted daryl to be a good guy because you were attracted to him?

or was it because you hated the way his face had contorted with discomfort when shane confronted him about something he clearly hadn’t wanted happening in the first place?

“fuck!” you groaned, burying your heated face into your palms. your reaction prompted a bubbly laugh from lori, who once more reached over to give your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“it’s okay, hun. just take some time to calm down, yeah? maybe go color with carl like you used to?” lori suggested, and you playfully batted at her hand, sending her a glare through your fingers.

“I’m not twelve anymore, lori. that won’t work on me.”

contrary to the statement you’d uttered to lori, you found yourself seated at the makeshift table next to carl not even fifteen minutes later, an indigo crayon clutched in your hand and two children giggling at your masterpiece.

“apples aren’t supposed to be blue!” carl guffawed, tilting his head to the side and scrutinizing your crudely drawn apple.

“okay, two things, carl,” you started, reaching over to flick the boy in the ear lightly. “first thing – this isn’t blue, it’s indigo. and, second thing” – you extended your arm past carl to the stack of crayons beside him – “I wouldn’t have to make my apple indigo if someone wasn’t hogging all the red crayons!”

carl nearly squealed and shot his hands up to slap at your arm, effectively batting away your advance towards his treasure trove. at the look of mock surprise you shot him, carl erupted into a fit of giggles and laughs, which shot warmth straight through your chest.

carl looked so much like rick that sometimes it hurt.

overcome with affection for the boy, you ruffled his hair, your fingers getting caught unceremoniously by the subtle tangles within.

“you need a haircut,” you observed, retracting your fingers from carl’s hair as gently as you could. carl made a gagging noise and shook his head vehemently. his reaction pulled a small chuckle from your throat. carl hated haircuts.

“hey, it’s that strange man.” sophia suddenly exclaimed, voice lowered as though to only speak to the occupants of the table. your heart tripped over itself and you whipped your head towards the direction sophia was gesturing to. sure enough, you noticed the man from earlier, merle, sauntering towards the table.

something quick and hot shot through your veins, lori’s previous words returning to your mind with a vengeance, and before you could truly stop to think about what you were doing, you were out of your seat and meeting merle halfway.

for a moment, the two of you simply stared at one another – merle seemed to be visually appreciating your body, whereas you were searching his for any sign of threat. the gun that had been holstered to his hip was absent, which slightly lowered his danger level in your eyes, but you weren’t about to let him any closer to carl or sophia.

just in case.

finally, after what felt like ages of staring one another down, merle spoke, his voice low and raspy.

“I just wanted’ta come find’ya and properly introduce myself. merle dixon.”

merle extended a large, somewhat grimy hand to you. after a moment’s consideration, you reached forward and gripped it with your own. you noticed that his hand was rough and littered with callouses. he was obviously no stranger to hard work.

“(y/n) grimes. am I correct to assume that you’re staying with us?”

you released your grip but merle had yet to let your hand go, holding it in his for the duration of a vocalized hum before letting it go.

“indeed, you are. see, yer man shane proposed an offer that my brother ‘n I simply couldn’ refuse.”

your heart throbbed inside your chest and your throat tightened. did that mean daryl was staying, too? completely oblivious to the slippery mental slope you were approaching, merle continued.

“so’s I figured tha’ since we’re goin’ta be proper campmates now, I’d come over and introduce myself; and giv’ya some of my true-earned gratitude.”

“gratitude?” you parroted, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. merle nodded slowly, almost sagely, and slipped his thumbs through the belt loops at his hips.

“yes, ma’am. had’ya not stepped in when’ya did, I’m afrai’ I prol’ly would’a lost my cool.” merle conceded with a sigh, and once more your walls shot up. you stood straighter and leveled the man with a glare. upon seeing your reaction, merle retracted his thumbs from his belt loops and raised his hands in a placating manner.

“woah, calm down. I wouldn’ta shot yer boy or anythin’. I mean, had he raised his gun firs’, that’d’be a diff’ren’ story. I was just meanin’ I feared it may’ave escalated had’ya not stepped in.”

you swallowed thickly and nodded just subtly; it was difficult for you to discern if merle was telling the truth or not, but his admission had brought about an iron-willed conviction inside you.

you would definitely keep your eye on merle dixon.

“well, there’s no thanks needed. no one would have wanted it to escalate; shane certainly wouldn’t have.” you said stiffly, crossing your arms over your chest in a protective manner. you ignored the way merle slipped his eyes down to the top of your breasts; you had some tits, you wouldn’t deny that. and as long as he kept his hands to himself, you didn’t see a reason to overreact.

“merle! git yer ass in gear an’ le’s go! we’re wastin’ daylight!”

your eyes were immediately drawn to the source of the new voice. biceps glistening and flexing with each step he took, angry scowl etched into his face, and the strap of his crossbow strangled in a white knuckled grip, he was a vision of pissed off. lori’s previous assertion of a crush had your cheeks flooding with heat as you watched daryl stalk closer.

by the time daryl finally stopped next to merle, your heart had created its own off-tune beat within your chest, and your cheeks felt hotter than the sun – but you pushed away everything you were feeling and gave the rugged, angry man a once-over. you already decided to keep an eye on merle, so you might as well go the extra mile and keep one on daryl, too.

you wouldn’t complain about having to do that.

it was as you were scanning his waistline that you noticed a familiar string of rope slipped through his belt loop. it was the same rope he’d knot multiple squirrels to, like he had the first day he entered camp.

“you’re going hunting?” you asked, halfway-conversationally, halfway with the intention of prompting that gravelly voice from daryl’s throat again.

except, it wasn’t daryl who answered. rather, he tore his eyes away from yours and focused on the foliage that lined the clearing, and merle spoke up in his stead.

“it’s our part of the bargain, darlin’. we keep you people fed, and we get stay here.”

you snapped your eyes back to merle in a vexed manner; if the man took notice of it, he didn’t respond to it other than with a slight widening of the smile on his face. you quickly pushed away your annoyance in favor of shifting your tone into something that could pass as amicable.

“well, good luck with that, then.”

it would be much easier to keep your eye on merle if there wasn’t any tension; keep your friends close and your potential enemies closer. that sort of thing.

“why, thank’ya, sugar, but I don’ thin’ we’ll need any’a tha’. daryl and me’s been in the woods since we was li’l.” merle drawled, inching himself closer to you. you resisted the urge to retreat, but you allowed yourself the lee-way of shrinking your arm back when merle extended a hand with the intention of grazing his fingers across your skin.

discomfort was burrowing deep into your body, but your ears nearly perked at the unintentional slip of information about the man you’d been wondering about for days. it was a fact that you could have surmised just by observing him, but the verbal confirmation of it had your brain thirsting for more.

it wasn’t because of a crush. it was only because of physical attraction; and of course physical attraction would lead to curiosity. of course.

at your clear rejection of touch, merle dropped his hand back down to his side, much to your relief. you were already connecting the dots on the type of person merle was just from this brief interaction, and though he wasn’t exactly coloring himself as a legitimate rapist, you determined that, from this point forward, you’d still do your best to ensure he’d never be alone with you or any other woman in the camp.

because this man was most certainly a pervert, at the very least.

“you should get going, dixon.” you murmured flippantly, casting a brief glance upward. “you’re wasting daylight.”

you thanked every invisible star in the sky that you were fast enough to catch the way daryl’s eyes shot to you as you parroted his previous words to his brother – it was such a quick glance that you were unable to ascertain what it meant, or if there was any interest hidden within, but your skin still tingled and your heart still tripped over itself when it happened.

but it wasn’t because of a goddamn crush.

mid-afternoon had melted to dusk before you could even register that that much time had passed.

the camp seemed so serene now; bathed in an orange glow, quieted, with multiple people milling about to the tune of cricket song, popping embers and whistling wind. the sun’s wavering strength granted a breath of chilly air, soothing the heat beneath your skin.

but even the cool, serene atmosphere of the camp couldn’t quell the storm raging inside your head; not as it normally would.

it was so stupid – you knew it was. and it wasn’t like yourself, either. there was no time for second guesses, not before and definitely not now.

and yet, it was a broken record. scratchy and choppy, set to an endless loop that frayed every single nerve within your body, the very embodiment of the sole goal of driving you absolutely insane with doubt.

crush.

the word taunted you, teased you, made you question everything; and it really shouldn’t. you knew it shouldn’t.

and you also knew with every fiber of your being that it was wrong – that lori was wrong. because you… you did not develop crushes. you never had. any relations you ever had with men were born of pure physical desire, with no underlying emotions.

you only ever felt physical attraction, lust, and want. it was familiar, it was comfortable, it was natural, it was you.

so why the hell were you second guessing the nature that you’d always harbored? the nature that had never changed, that never would change?

it was lori’s fault, plain and simple.

she was the reason you were thinking so much. all because she had uttered that one little word. and now you had to do something about it. you had to put a stop to it.

you zigzagged around multiple shoulders as you made your way across camp, bumping into some with muted apologies, absentmindedly, eyes rapidly scanning the crowd until you were able to finally locate lori. she was standing next to the rv that belonged to dale, engaged in some sort of indistinct conversation with the man – that was until you grabbed her wrist and pulled her off to the side, dragging her to the farthest reaches of the camp.

“(y/n), what’s going on–” lori attempted to prod you gently, but you cut her off by swinging around to face her.

“I just want to have sex with him!” you breathed out in a rush, surely resembling a wild, scared animal with the way your eyes darted around the camp. lori’s own eyes widened to the size of dinner plates whereas her eyebrows furrowed together.

“u-uhm, sure, y-yeah. you mean daryl, right?” lori pressed, and you nodded vigorously.

“yes, I mean him. I just wanted to make that clear, because earlier you said something about a crush, and I just want you to know that it’s not like that–”

why were you even explaining this? had you really gone off the deep end? had the end of the world finally rusted every last screw left in your brain?

“okay, okay, honey, I need you to breathe.” lori directed, softly, catching your hands in hers, adding, “what I said was only a joke. I know it’s not like that.”

relief sagged your shoulders as you let out a deep breath. you met lori’s gaze, still wide and confused and bewildered, and then everything crashed into you with the force of a derailed train.

you couldn’t stop it. you laughed. a full on belly laugh. because you were being so fucking ridiculous – and feeling highly embarrassed at the moment.

“god, I’m so stupid. I’m sorry lori, I don’t know why I’m even acting like this.”

lori let out a soft chuckle and released your hands. her eyes softened and the smile she wore was genuine; more genuine than you’d seen in a long time.

“you aren’t being stupid, (y/n). I think maybe you’re just feeling restless. anyone would if they were cooped up here all day, every day. I imagine it’s hard on you.”

lori wasn’t entirely wrong. before the world had went to shit, you were an adventurous spirit. you never much liked the idea of staying in one place – there was too much to explore, too much to see, too much to do – and you couldn’t even fathom not indulging in that, of not feeding the desire.

but this spirit of yours was the whole reason you weren’t there the day rick got shot, why it took you nearly a week to get to king county to visit his room; why a goodbye was rendered impossible.

but that wasn’t why you were acting this way; that you knew for a fact.

tears stung at the back of your eyes and, ever observant, lori pulled you into her chest and circled her arms around your waist. warmth bloomed across your front and the sweet scent of lori’s perfume, faded and floral, mixed with the scent of sweat and smoke clinging to her skin. the scent, despite being slightly odorous, sunk into your body and brought about extreme comfort. you bit back the sobs by sinking your teeth deep into your bottom lip and squeezed lori back tightly, shedding your silent tears into the welcoming jut of her collarbone as she shushed you softly.

you felt completely rattled – because it all suddenly made sense to you.

consuming yourself with lust over a stranger, worrying about the fate of that stranger, or even tearing yourself up inside over whether or not you actually had a crush on said stranger – it was far easier than letting reality take the wheel, far easier than accepting the fact that the life you had and the world you knew were both gone, sucked away into an endless black hole, never to be seen again.

and there was nothing you could do about it.

prologue | chapter two

a/n: if you enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to more, please consider liking/commenting/reblogging/following, or maybe even get yourself added to the taglist! I love y’all so much! also, I’ve decided to switch some things around given the depth these chapters are given – some events were cut from this one and will be added into chapter 2 – which is when reader and daryl really start interacting!

NOTE: the dividers used in this post do not belong to me, nor did I create them. they come from this post, labeled under free-to-use. all credits go to the creator of the dividers.

TAGLIST: @daryldixmedown @chylerluvschim @alialiclouds

#Daryl Dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon series #crush series

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myhappylittlesideblog · 2 days

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You were walking in companionable silence, coming back from a hunt. Daryl loved that about you, that he could just be with you in silence and it was never uncomfortable. That was rare for him. Nine times out of ten, if he was with other people, he was uncomfortable. He glanced over at you as you stopped beside some plant and examined it, looking at the shape of the leaves and turning them over gently to examine the undersides. When you looked up again, you caught his eyes and your mouth reflexively twitched into a small smile before you fell into step beside him again. He loved that too.

“Can I… ask ya somethin’?” he ventured, slinging his crossbow back up onto his shoulder.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Of course you can.”

“Ya were afraid of me, before… early on. Why—why’d ya keep lettin’ me in?”

You were struck with a thoughtful look and another long moment stretched before you answered. “Well, I mean, you were intimidating, scary even at first—after what I’d been through. I’d learned not to trust men… I still don’t trust most,” you admitted. “But you helped me. You never hurt me. So, I guess, at the time I was more afraid of not having you there, of being alone again in this world. Me letting you in has less to do with anything I did and more to do with what you did, what you still do. It has to do with who you are, Daryl.” You looked over at him and your expression was so soft and yet somehow charged that he felt like an electric shock had just zipped up his spine. “I’m still afraid of not having you around. But in a different way now,” you said.

Daryl gulped and tried to focus on still putting one foot in front of the other.

You smiled to yourself and reached out and gently touched his arm. Your bare skin against his caused another tingling sensation to shoot up his arm. “What were you expecting me to say?” you laughed lightly. “Something less heavy?”

He gave you a sideways glance, feeling his ears grow a bit warm. “I dunno,” he drawled, “but I wasn’t ready for that.” He took a deep breath and tried to banish the sudden jittery feeling that seemed to overtake his body. “Whatever the reason, ’m real glad ya trusted me. And ’m afraid of not havin’ ya around now too.”

A/N: ugggggh my heart <3

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff

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myhappylittlesideblog · 2 days

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Maggie: So is this thing between Y/N and Daryl supposed to be a secret?

Carol: Hardly. The only ones that don't know that Y/N loves Daryl are Y/N and Daryl.

#daryl dixon x reader

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myhappylittlesideblog · 4 days

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daryl pre-apocalypse dating headcanons

divider credits. @cafekitsune

he would be nervous to date you, especially with the looming opinions of his father and merle lingering in the back of his mind, but it didn’t matter, he loved you and wouldn’t let anyone, especially them stand in the way of him finding his own happiness

each day he saw you it would put a smile on his face that he would try and hide but fail to keep from your sight

daryl wouldn’t be very much into pda, except if it was in a crowded area (he hated those), so he would hold your hand and when he’d get more stressed he’d squeeze your hand

motorcycle dates where he’d take you to the middle of nowhere

he would teach you how to hunt (unless you were against it), and how to shoot his crossbow

^^ he would put up targets for you to practice on against trees and would love to wrap his arms around you to help with the angle of which you held the weapon

he would love cuddling with you since he’s a touch starved bby whilst something random is playing on the television

he’d dance with you slowly and softly in the kitchen of your apartment with the radio on, to some old song that neither of you had ever heard

he would apologise profusely if you cleaned up after him (e.g. clothes and boots on the floor, toothpaste cap open, toilet seat up etc)

on the weekends you would just order pizza for dinner

if you were having any trouble with your car, he’d tell you to screw the idea of taking it to the garage and deal with it himself

he’d adore to see you smile at the most random things, like if you saw a child with a balloon or if he was the reason he would swoon even more

he would sleep with either his head on your chest using your boobs as a pillow, or you’d be spooning

if you have any scars he’d kiss them all each morning and night

smoking together before bedtime or with your morning coffees

neither of you had much money, so your little home wouldn’t be much, it would give small cozy cabin in the woods vibes, but it would be perfect

he’d let you trim his hair (on his head and facial)

feeling as though he has to protect you from merle and his friends, knowing that they made comments about you and your body from time to time

he would get insecure if anyone checked you out, and so you would reassure him without any irritancy he was the only one you wanted

showering together

him being scared to show you all of the scars across his body, especially the ones on his back. but during the first time when you scatter his flesh with kisses, he is no longer afraid, instead it becomes like a therapeutic massage

he would get you a promise ring, not something expensive but thoughtful and state that one day it would be replaced with a diamond

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon headcanons #young!daryl dixon

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myhappylittlesideblog · 7 days

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You affectionately brushed your fingers through Daryl’s hair, studying his expression as he looked across the street toward Carol and Lydia. “Hmm? What is it you’re thinking? I can see something on your face,” you said softly.

Daryl nodded and met your eyes, his expression easing some as he looked at you. “I wanna help her, ya know? I dun want her to—to have to feel the way I did as a kid. I mean—anymore than she already has. Nobody deserves that.”

Your heart ached for him and you nodded. “Daryl, you are pure goodness,” you said, giving him a fond smile. “And I agree. Let’s show her what a real home can look like. I’m in.”

He straightened up, his eyebrows lifting. “Yeah? Ya sure? Yer really up for it? Takin’ her in?” His eyes went back to Lydia. “Ain’t gonna be easy…”

“Nothing worth doing is,” you replied, following his gaze. “But I am 100% sure that I want to help her too, and I think together we can give her a safe place, some kind of normalcy and family.”

Daryl gave you a small smile, his body language and expression softening as it always did for you. He reached for your hand and laced his fingers with yours. “I love ya, ya know.”

“I know,” you said, smiling. You leaned in and kissed him. This would certainly be a new kind of adventure…

Prompt: “I want to help her, you know? I don’t want her to feel the way I did. Nobody deserves that.”

#daryl dixon x reader

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myhappylittlesideblog · 8 days

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over caffeinated and thirsty for him.

#a baby #norman reedus #daryl dixon

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myhappylittlesideblog · 8 days

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Friday mood !!!

#giggly boy #norman reedus #daryl dixon

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myhappylittlesideblog · 8 days

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I swear to god this movie needs to be mandatory viewing for all those alpha-male nonsense spouting men with podcasts. LIKE ok - look at this. This dude has no tongue, literal worms and creepie crawlies are falling out of him from both ends, AND YET just because his first thought when he gets a full pair of functional hands is to confidently invite his best girl to dance with him, he's ADORABLE. I'm ALL IN.

#lisa frankenstein

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myhappylittlesideblog · 8 days

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Favvvvvvvvv

Lisa Frankenstein, 2024, dir. Zelda Williams

#Lisa Frankenstein #Lisa Frankenstein fav

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myhappylittlesideblog · 15 days

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𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐰/ 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐆𝐚𝐠𝐚 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬

Summary ➳ Daryl is so Lady Gaga coded, her songs fit him so well. (I might expand more on this and I would love to see your guys interpretations!!)

(A/n) ➳ There is going to be a Assassin’s Creed Rogue content here and on my AO3!! I ain’t publishing any series until I finish JUDAS, that I can promise you guys. I also wasn’t sure if this isn’t a one-shot…

Word Count ➳ 500

Content Warnings ➳ Gender Neutral Reader/No use of (Y/n), EACH ARE SEPARATE SITUATIONS, Sexual content, oral (M), pervert Daryl, FWB Relationship/Toxic Relationship, consensual recording/photo taking, emotional affair, angst, mentions of death…

BAD ROMANCE

Early seasons, Daryl refuses to communicate, he fears relationships. It’s during an apocalypse, you can’t be hoping onto false hope and you’re gonna have to face that your loved one(s), will die. There’s no if ands or buts.

But Daryl can’t notice (refuses to) how much you love him. You don’t care what’s going on in the world, you want his cold heart, his love.

Or as Lady Gaga said. “I want your love. I want your revenge. You and me could write a bad romance.”

ALEJANDRO

Before the outbreak, you’ve had numerous of bad lovers in your past, and in the end, you always found yourself in the arms and bed of your best friend, Daryl Dixon. He was always up for the chance to get back at your exes and he enjoyed it.

Especially when he got the chance to record you taking his cock, of course he’d never share them without your consent. He’s happy that he’s the only one who gets to do it.

But Daryl catching feelings for you was something you didn’t expect and it made you realize that you didn’t want him as he wanted you. You tried to explain that it wasn’t going to work and when you tried to put some distance between you and him, he was having none of it. He wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

Or as Lady Gaga said. “And I know that you may love me but I just can’t be with you like this anymore.”

JUDAS

I know I’m already writing about JUDAS but hear me out!! You had a relationship with Daryl. You left and found someone better, you thought your life was finally on track until your ex appeared again and your feelings resurfaced. Daryl made it clear to your significant other who he was and you tried to remain strong for them but you couldn’t.

It was true that you still loved the man who betrayed you many times. You hated his grin, his hair, his eyes, everything about him angered you. But you couldn’t understand why Daryl had you wrapped around his finger.

Or as Lady Gaga said! “I wanna love you but something’s pulling me away from you. Jesus is my virtue and Judas is the demon I cling to!”

PAPARAZZI

One thing Daryl enjoyed was a cigarette. Don’t matter when and where. He could be hanging around you and he’d light one up, taking a blow job from you, after sex, during sex. Name a time and place and he’s most likely done already.

And then when he was gifted a camera, he immediately knew how to use it, catching you in all sorts of poses. You smoking his cigarette, taking his cock, a clear photo of your chest and ass. The two of you have photos of each other and when he was able to find a working recorder, you know he enjoyed filming you.

Or as Lady Gaga Said. “Need that picture of you, it’s so magical.”

Taglist ➳ @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @gamingfeline , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @snailss , @the-lonely-abyss , @number1bashbabe , @xmaeyonaiise , @suniloli , @ladylincoln , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @TWDgal , @yoowhatthefuck , @mylifeinthetardisforever , @let-love-bleeds-red , @virginsexgod69 , @scudslut , @theesexystallion , @yondus-girl , @raoudixs , @sleep-queen ,

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #Daryl Dixon lady gaga

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myhappylittlesideblog · 15 days

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Through The Good Times And The Bad | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: Of everything Daryl wanted to do with you, fighting certainly wasn't on that list. However, in every relationship, there was bound to be disagreements, but Daryl didn't know if you'd forgive him for what he had said. It took one night for him to realise that you weren't going anywhere.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.

Warnings: Like one swear word, self deprecating thoughts.

Word count: 1.1k

A/n: Here's this short fic to make up in advance for the few days that it's gonna take me to write the fic that won the poll. Not gonna reveal too much about it, but it's called "I Never Lived For The Applause". I'll let your minds run wild with that.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

Stupid. That's what Daryl Dixon thought of himself. What he'd been thinking of himself for a whole week at that point. Stupid for lashing out at you. Stupid for what he called you. Stupid for not approaching you for an entire week. Stupid for not falling to his knees and apologising, begging for your forgiveness.

Sleep eluded him completely that night. How could he let that happen? How could he ruin the one good thing in his life? You'd been there for him since you moved to the trailer park when you were both merely twelve years old. You were his best friend, now his girlfriend, and he'd seemingly messed it all up in a matter of minutes.

Looking back, Daryl knew that he had been in the wrong. You were simply trying to help him, to reassure him that he didn't need his brother's approval, and he'd lashed out at you. He'd said some nasty things that someone as sweet and caring as you didn't deserve, all because you told him that he didn't have to help Merle with some stupid drug deal. He had seemingly damaged your relationship, in the end only to tell Merle no anyway.

Daryl scoffed to himself and turned over, wincing at the friction it caused on his freshly wounded side. His father had been relentless the past few days, bestowing beatings on him whenever he laid his eyes on his youngest son. Daryl had grown accustomed to sneaking out to your trailer when things got too bad to handle on his own, but now he didn't know if he was allowed to. He didn't know if you'd tell him to go to hell, and he wouldn't have blamed you if you did. You had every reason to hate him.

Frustrated by the inability to fall asleep, Daryl sat up in his bed. His body screamed in protest at his movements, the beating from only a few hours prior taking its painful root in his body. Trying to ignore the pain, he reached into his nightstand to grab a few painkillers you'd bought for him to help him when you couldn't. However, as his hands fell upon the bottle, his eyes caught sight of a Polaroid picture. It was a picture you had taken of the two of you a month prior. The picture was ridiculous; you had somehow convinced him to wear a facemask with you and had him pose with you for a photo. Despite the fact that he was against the idea initially, it definitely was one of his favourite memories with you. He loved you, and he didn't ever want to lose you.

Before the thought could fully register in his mind, Daryl was climbing out of his window and sneaking away from his trailer towards yours. He didn't know if you were still awake or if you'd even want to see him, but he needed to see you. He needed to apologise to you, even if you hated him. At least he would have gotten it off his chest.

In a matter of moments, he was standing outside your window. He hesitated for a moment, flashes of your argument a week prior flooding his mind. However, he shook the thoughts from his head and knocked on your window. Almost immediately, your lamp flickered on and your footsteps could be heard approaching the window.

Your window opened and without hesitation or demanding an explanation, you extended a hand to Daryl to help him climb in to your room. Once inside, he turned to you, ready to apologise, but you cut him off by bringing him into a comforting hug. You nuzzled your face into his chest, letting out a deep sigh. Daryl was caught off guard for a moment, but he wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head before resting his chin there.

A minute of silence passed between the two of you. You simply stood there in each other's arms, basking in the comfort the hug brought the both of you. However, Daryl soon broke the silence, guilt and regret gnawing at his insides.

“M'sorry fer wha' I said. Fer lashin' out at ya,” he mumbled into your hair, closing his eyes when he felt you press a kiss against his clothed chest. “Please know tha' I didn't mean tha'. Not a single thing. Yer perfect to me.”

“It's okay,” you reassured him, pulling back slightly to gaze into the beautiful blues of his eyes. “You were just mad at your brother. I don't blame you at all.”

Daryl shook his head. “Ya should. I never shoulda said tha' in the first place. I wouldn't blame ya if ya hated me.”

“Daryl Dixon, you listen to me right now,” you started sternly, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “One little fight isn't going to scare me off. When I agreed to be your girlfriend, I didn't just sign up for the good times. I'll be here through the bad times as well. Nothing will ever change that. You're gonna have to do more than cuss me out for me to run for the hills.”

Daryl stared into your eyes for a moment, a small smile gracing his features. He nodded slowly, subconsciously leaning into your soft touch. “I love ya,” he whispered.

You smiled up at him before giving him a small kiss. When you pulled back, you rubbed his cheek with your thumb. “I love you too, you hard ass. Through thick and thin,” you assured him, before grabbing his hand and leading him over to your bed. “Now sit down while I go grab the first aid kit. By the way, you're staying over tonight. I'm not letting you go now.”

Daryl didn't mind the sound of that at all. In no time at all, you had cleaned his wounds, turned of the light and ushered him into bed. You had brought his head down to rest on your chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. You played with his hair, placing a tender kiss on his forehead, lulling him into sleep.

And for the first time that week, Daryl fell asleep without being plagued by nightmares of losing you.

#daryl dixon x reader #young!daryl Dixon

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myhappylittlesideblog · 15 days

Text

It’s Just a Plant 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

daryl dixon x fem!reader

anon #1: "would you write a daryl x reader where she’s affected by a sex pollen situation but he isnt?? and shes being really needy and almost throwing herself at him and then he realizes whats going on bc of his knowledge of plants and stuff and offers to take care of her?? no established relationship but unspoken feelings on both sides for sure"

anon #2: "omg omg i just followed u and i love you already (hi????)i like the way you write and i’m aggressively politely begging you to write more about daryl being feral and desperate for reader 😛"

a/n: okay okay, first i wanna say tysm to anon #2 for the follow and the kind words ♡, and also that i decided to be creative and combine these two requests together because they worked well. instead of reader being affected by the sex pollen though, daryl is. also this is my first time writing anything about sex pollen so uh, no idea how good it is but regardless, hope you enjoy!

Summary: daryl gets affected by sex pollen, and you are the solution to the side effects he suffers from.

warnings: smut 18+, tit sucking, PinV unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy chance (daryl cums in reader), rough daryl!!!, multiple orgasms (both f and m), basically daryl manhandling reader

wc: 2k

“‘M gon’ need ta borrow ya for a sec,” Daryl grumbled while practically dragging you out of the house.

Deanna had invited your group to join her ‘welcoming celebration’ or whatever she called it, and you thought it would be best to try and make a decent enough impression if you guys were really going to stay there for good. That night you threw on a flowy blue dress that reached just above your knees; you had borrowed it from one of the Alexandrians who seemed to have a whole boutique at her house.

“Daryl! Let go of me!” His grip on your arm was restraining you, and he was still dragging you through the door, past a few people giving you two bewildered glances, and down the steps that led up to Deanna’s house. You yanked your arm back as hard as you could, finally freeing yourself from Daryl’s demanding grasp. He spun around and you gasped, clutching his face in your hands.

“Dar’! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

His heavy hands landed on your shoulders, hair flipping about his face as he scanned the area around the both of you. No one else was outside. “You’re freaking me the fuck out. What’s going on?”

The frantic man in front of you steadied his breathing and looked at you. His eyes were glazed over. “Sum’s gon’ on with me. Yer the only one that can help.” His voice was low, scratchy, like he was on the road for a while with no sleep or water in his system. He was restless, eyes slightly bloodshot.

You scrutinized him. “Are you high?”

He scoffed. “Nah. Sum’n worse,” he huffed harshly, breath lifting light strands of hair out of his eyes. “Listen, I was in the woods huntin’, and I think I stepped in some toxic plant.”

“Poison ivy? Thought you knew your plants.”

Daryl gave you a disappointed look. “S’dark outside, how am I s’posed ta get a good look?”

You didn’t appreciate his attitude. “Alright, alright. Well did you get hurt? Do you have a rash?” You bring your hand up to his forehead, “You’re not feverish. Here, come with me–”

The archer snatched your hand before you could lead him away. “‘M not hurt. It’s hard ta explain, but it’s uncomfortable.” You noticed the way his pants were suddenly looking tight in a certain region. You snarl, “if this is just an excuse to get in my fucking pants and then leave me again–”

“It’s not, I promise. Please, I…” his voice cracked, instancy laced in his tone, “I need ya.”

You shuddered under his touch. You were attracted to Daryl, but he never treated you like a lover, only someone he could use to release his steam — almost every week. Now it seemed…different, like he was under a magical trance. You’d never seen him like this, and it concerned you deeply.

“Come with me, to my place, okay?” Your soft, reassuring voice soothed Daryl for the moment. You took his hand and led him to your house down the road, out of the lively atmosphere from the party and into a more secluded one.

As soon as the door was closed and locked, Daryl had you pinned against the wall, his hands starting to roam your body and grabbing fistfuls of your thin dress. “Daryl!” You squeaked, at a loss for words. He was never this urgent with you.

“Sorry, but I think I know what’s wrong with me now.” You shivered from the way his large hands tousled through your hair, pulling gently at the roots. The look you gave him was one of apprehension and puzzlement, although he didn’t heed your concern. His body was on fire now, heart pounding like a sledgehammer. You did nothing to help him, just stood there, back against the wall, unsure of what to do. You were like a rabbit cornered by a wolf.

Daryl’s rock hard crotch pressed against your own — it felt so hard that you wouldn’t have been surprised if he replaced his own dick with a brick. His warmth radiated onto you, making you feel woozy; no proper thoughts could form in your clouded mind. It felt involuntary the way your shaky hand reached down to rub against his bulging crotch. Your brain was on autopilot.

“Fuck…” Daryl grabbed your neck, squeezing lightly. “Don’cha dare tease me righ’ now.” You gulped, eyes batting rapidly. His face was beet red, like he stuck his head in a sauna for too long. “I need–need ta fuck yer cunt,” he heaved, pressing his body against yours. “It’s–”

He was shaking. You furrowed your brows in suspicion. “Daryl?”

No words left his panting mouth. Only grunts came from him when he swiftly lifted you up with his solid arms and threw you onto the couch. Your dress rode up your thighs, and the sight of your dampened panties made him impossibly harder. Without hesitation Daryl met you on the couch, hovering over you. The straps of your dress were loosely hanging off your shoulders, but not for long as he managed to literally rip your dress off.

“Dixon! That wasn’t my dress, what the fu–”

“Shut up.” His lips met yours while he kneaded your bare tits, embracing your nipples that were hardening under his touch. You both moaned into each other’s mouths, tongues battling. Daryl was never usually this aggressive with you, but you knew it had to be for some type of reason, maybe. He wasn’t feeling well, maybe had a rough day, and decided to come up with some bullshit excuse about a ‘toxic plant’ just to get in your pants again. Didn’t matter, though. He needed you and therefore you needed him — that was how it always worked.

Daryl’s hands wasted no time in clutching the hem of your panties, hastily sliding them off. Next was his own clothes, which you had to help him with because of how rushed he was. You were always so easily wet for him, on any occasion. The man was too beautiful to not have that effect on you.

Again, Daryl wasted no time tonight. Your legs were spread open wide, pussy on full display. He prodded your swollen clit with a digit, working up his speed while sliding his own dick out of his boxers and throwing them across the room carelessly. His eyes were half-lidded, already so fucked out you were almost prepared to feel his seed in you in less than three thrusts. His dick needed absolutely no stroking; your mouth fell agape when you noticed how red and swollen it was. Veins protruded from his thick shaft, and precum was spilling from the tip which dripped down his cock.

One push and he was in. You winced in pain, the walls of your cunt stretching bit by bit as he quickly started to fill you all the way up. When he was all the way in, Daryl began to pound into you. You couldn’t think — the fog in your head so heavy and dense that all you could do was just fall limp into the couch as he fucked you into a trance. His grunts and growls filled your ears while his hips carved into your own with a force that almost felt like it would shatter you.

Daryl relished in the sense of you — the warm hug from your cunt around his uncomfortably hard dick brought him to life. This was what he needed, what his body was fiending for tonight. To you it didn’t make sense why or how he felt this needy to fuck you, but it didn’t matter now because he found his solution.

The sounds you released were pathetic; he was fucking you so well. Harshly, but still passionately, like you were his cure and he was grateful for it. The pleasure canceled out the pain. “D-Dar’...” was all you could let out in between the rough thrusts. His cock was twitching, ready for release. “Oh, f-fuck..” He could barely pull out, thick ropes of cum jutting out all over your pussy.

Daryl was still rock hard, heart palpitating and that goddamn sickness lingering in his veins. You were on the verge of reaching your own orgasm before he pulled out, however that thought had left your mind momentarily. You sat up, eyes flicking back and forth between his throbbing, dripping cock to the grimace planted on his face. The poor man was trembling. You didn’t know what you should do…

“I said before, that I think I know what’s wrong with me…” he started, fingers grazing his cock head. He whimpered from the slight contact, and you sat back with your elbows propping you up, arousal reaching your heat again. “‘S’the effects of a damn plant, had the same experience long ago so I know, and–” He plunged back into you, taking you off guard. “Need ta keep goin’.”

You felt full again, Daryl’s thick length stretching your drenched walls once more. Instinctively you wrapped your legs tight around his waist, savoring the way he filled you up so well. A…plant? How could a plant make him this…unnaturally carnal? Either way, your body wasn’t complaining — felt too damn good.

Dixon’s rushed thrusts were becoming sloppy, and you could tell his body was exhausted from being so overworked. He needed a quick break, and you had an idea.

“Daryl, sit back — I know what I can do to help.” Reluctantly he did so, hands never leaving the plushness of your hips. You climbed onto his lap and sank down onto his stiff member. Both your faces contorted with pleasure. You waited until his eyes found yours, and you started moving.

Your hips rocked steadily into his, but the movement wasn’t quick enough — his body demanded more. So he used his upper body strength to bounce you up and down on his cock, his bulging biceps wrapping around your waist and hugging your body into his. Your walls clenched and choked his shaft, wetness leaking from your hole as he relentlessly pounded into you from underneath. You did not stop rocking your hips, ensuring Daryl wasn’t doing most of the work.

With each kiss to your cervix was a welcoming smack to your clit against his pubic bone. Pleasure erupted you and you came undone around his cock, your walls pulsing rhythmically around him. Your strained moans filled the air. “Ohh, Dar’!” You screamed out. Daryl’s lips latched onto one of your hardened nipples, sucking harshly and moving onto the next one, the motion of his hips driving into yours never ceasing. He only slowed his pace to kiss you gently on your lips, and you melted into him while continuing to ride out your current orgasm, welcoming several more.

You trusted Daryl, which was why you let him fuck you into the couch with your head pushed into the cushion. He never fucked you in this position, but you loved it because it was him doing it — no one else. You arched your back, ass pushing further into his crotch while he rutted his hips into yours, dick hitting your g-spot every time. Another climax was forming, and he felt his own on its way as well.

“S’good f’me. Knew you–” a grunt erupted from him as his hips smacked against your ass, “Knew ya were gon’ let me do what I want to ya. Always do.”

If you weren’t too busy getting fucked by the archer you would’ve came up with a clever quip, because that’s what you usually did to hide the fact that you really liked him, and he was absolutely right. If it were anybody else in the same boat as Daryl, you’d walk away easily.

Daryl came inside you, twice. It seemed unpreventable in his case, but you still knew you were going to need to ask Denise for some plan-B, if there was any left. “S’too fuckin’ good, mmph!”

You were gone, in the clouds. You needed to be grounded, to be brought back into reality, but Daryl was fucking you into the night and probably would be for a couple hours judging by how he was still plunging into you fervently.

This was going to be a long night, and you weren’t sure how you were going to be able to walk in the morning.

#UGH #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #sex pollen

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