#quarry!daryl
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Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: Tension at camp is nothing new, but after Daryl nearly takes a swing at Shane, you pull him away to the quarry, offering a distraction that quickly turns into something else entirely.
Tags: smut MDNI, pinv, fem reader, pullout method, kissing, public(ish) sex, outdoor sex, quickie, quarry!daryl, protective!daryl, husband!daryl, shane ‘tell ya what’ walsh is an ass what's new, little bit of praise kink, established relationship, sweet relationship, age gap mentioned but not specified
a/n: I’ve been watching season 1 on repeat too often. I remember when I didn’t think quarry Daryl was that cute and now I’m FERAL for the man. Top 3 fave versions of this man that’s for damn certain. thank you for reading!! lmk what you think!
The smell of campfire smoke was thick in the air, clinging to your clothes, your skin, following you no matter where you sat. It was the first time in a while you’d joined the others instead of sitting around the separate fire Merle usually built on the other side of camp. But with him gone on a recent run into the city with a few of the others, along with the sight of the pile of fish Andrea and Amy had hauled in, you told Daryl the best way to get a bite was to play nice and sit with the group—unless, of course, he wanted squirrel stew for the fifth night in a row.
But now, sitting there, you were starting to regret that decision.
Even with the world gone to hell and class lines erased overnight, some things hadn’t changed. They still shrank away from you, their discomfort as thick as the smoke curling through the air. And Daryl? They didn’t just avoid him. They dismissed him. Ignored him. Like he wasn’t worth a second glance.
You didn’t pay it any mind. You were used to people underestimating him, used to them not seeing him for who he really was. Beneath the sharp stares and sharper tongue, he was a good man. Your man. And these people—they’d never understand that.
The sun dipped lower, setting the valley in a wash of pink and orange, the glow of the fire growing brighter with every passing minute. Conversations murmured around you, voices low as they discussed camp security—how to reinforce their perimeter, how to keep the geeks out. So far, they’d been lucky, nestled deep in the woods with none of the dead stumbling through just yet.
Still, that luck wouldn’t last forever.
You shifted, glancing toward the tree line. “We could set up noise traps,” you offered. “Tin cans, broken glass—something to warn us if somethin’s comin’.”
The second the words left your mouth, Shane, a man with dark eyes and even darker scowl, scoffed as he paused mid conversation with another resident. You barely had time to blink before he turned on you, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you’d had the audacity to speak up.
“Yeah? That what you think?” He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Tell you what, next time I need advice on how to run this place, I’ll be sure to come find you, sweetheart.”
The word dripped with condescension, slow and deliberate.
Your lip curled, rolling your eyes as you turned away. “Dick,” you muttered under your breath.
Shane barely let a beat pass before he fired back, voice laced with smug amusement.
“Better watch your lil’ backwoods girl there, Dixon,” he sneered, dark eyes flicking toward Daryl. “Might just have to give her somethin’ to scoff about with that mouth on ‘er.”
Silence hushed over the group like an uneasy wave. The fire popped, the only sound in the sudden, tense stillness as the eyes of everyone in the camp turned to look at you.
There was a loud scrape of metal groaning, Daryl’s lawn chair shoving back under him as he stood abruptly.
“The hell d’you just say, asshole?” he snapped, voice sharp as steel.
Shane barely flinched. His jaw worked, tension coiled tight in his shoulders, but instead of rising to the fight, he let out a slow breath through his nose. He ran a hand down his face, shaking his head.
“Christ, Dixon,” he muttered, voice low, measured, not even smug, just tired. “Ain’t gotta get all riled up. Was just a joke.”
Daryl’s hands curled into fists. “Yeah? Didn’t sound like one.”
Shane exhaled hard, eyes flicking around at the others watching before landing back on Daryl. His expression hardened.
"Ain't my fault you can't take a joke, Dixon. Least when your brother was here, we didn't have to listen to you run your mouth. He at least kept you on your side of camp.”
Daryl’s knuckles went white, his fists clenching tighter as he glared. Across the fire, Shane held his gaze, eyes steady—calm, almost—but there was a challenge in them, a quiet go on, do it lingering beneath the surface, prodding without a word.
You felt the fight still coiled tight in Daryl’s body as you wrapped your fingers around his upper arm, could feel the way his muscles flexed under your grip, the way his whole damn being was strung tight. You stepped in closer, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “Come on,” you murmured, his body warm as your hand curled tighter around his bicep, firm but gentle. “Let’s get outta here.”
Daryl didn’t move at first, his breathing still uneven, his fists still clenched.
Then, finally, he exhaled sharply and let you pull him back, turning away from the fire, from the camp, from the people who would never understand either of you.
The sun's dying light stretched long over the jagged rocks of the valley below, the water rippling in deep, coppery hues as you walked down to the quarry to get your mind off the argument at the firepit.
When you finally got to the bottom, Daryl leaned against a boulder, his face half-lit in the glow of dusk. He'd been quiet most of the evening, despite his blow up earlier, deep blue eyes flicking to you like he was chewing on something he didn’t quite know how to spit out.
You stepped in front of him, close enough to smell the sweat and earth clinging to his shirt, the faint scent of pine from the day hunting. "I’m sorry about…about whatever that was,”
His jaw ticked. “Ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for,” he muttered, but he wasn’t looking at you, gaze fixed somewhere past your shoulder. “Dickhead don’t even know good advice if it hit ‘em upside the head.”
You sighed, reaching up to brush a short lock of hair from his forehead. He let out a breath, more like a huff than anything, barely audible, but you caught it.
“You always get like this when you’re thinking too hard,” you teased softly. “What is this really about?”
His lips pressed together, jaw working, like he was still chewing on the words. Then, as natural as breathing, his fingers found your waist, rough and certain, pulling you in just a little closer.
“Just don’t want ‘em talkin’ to ya like that,” he admitted, voice gruff, quieter than the night settling around you. “Like you ain’t worth listenin’ to. Like you ain’t got a damn brain in your head. They only do it ‘cause you’re with me.”
Your chest ached at the frustration in his voice, the way it came out stiff, like he hated even saying it out loud.
“Daryl…”
“They already look at me like I don’t belong here,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Ain’t gonna let ‘em do that to you too.”
You cupped his jaw, fingers grazing over the rough stubble, waiting until he finally looked at you. His blue eyes were sharp, searching, like he was waiting for you to tell him he was wrong.
“I don’t give a shit what they think,” you murmured. “I chose you. You get that, right?”
Daryl swallowed hard, something flickering across his face–vulnerable and open, his brute mask slipping now that it was just the two of you. His grip on you tightened, his body pressing just a little closer, his breath warm against your skin.
“I ain’t gonna let ‘em make you feel small,” he muttered, almost more to himself than to you.
Your chest ached at the way he said it, like he wasn’t sure how to handle the way he cared. Like the thought of letting them think so little of you was gnawing at the edges of his mind. Your thumb traced over his skin as you held his face, grazing over his bottom lip, his chin, until you leaned in.
“You don’t have to,” you murmured, lips barely ghosting over his. “I know who I am. And I know who you are. Even if they can’t see it.”
His blue eyes caught to yours, something different in them, something raw and sweet that no one else was ever allowed to see. Then, before you could say another word, his mouth was on yours, sweet and gentle, lips chapped but insistent. His hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you closer until there was nothing between you but the fast, unsteady rhythm of your heartbeats.
You melted into him, hands sliding around his neck, letting the kiss ignite into need and heat, letting him pour everything into it—his frustration, his fear, the love he wasn’t good at putting into words. The quarry was silent except for the quiet rush of the wind over the water and the uneven breaths you shared between kisses.
When he finally pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he took a long moment just to breathe as he closed his eyes. His hands stayed on you, gripping you tightly against him, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged across your lips.
"Thinkin' too hard again?" you whispered.
He huffed a quiet laugh. "Shut up," he muttered, but his lips brushed yours again, even softer this time, like he couldn’t help himself.
No one understood Daryl like you did. Not the folks at camp, not the people who side-eyed him like he was nothing but trouble, not even his own damn brother.
Thing was, no one really tried to know Daryl. They saw the brittle edges, the temper, the way he kept to himself. They saw the bickering between him and Merle, the way he came back from hunts with blood on his hands, all silent and brooding.
But you saw the man beneath all that.
Before the world turned upside down, you saw him for what he truly was. Gentle in ways he didn’t realize, kind in ways he never gave himself credit for. A man who had spent his whole life bracing for a fight, wearing his rough edges like armor, until you came along and showed him there was more to life than just surviving, even before the dead came back to life.
You were younger, but that never mattered to you. And once you finally convinced him that nothing—not even a pesky thing like an age gap, and definitely not his own doubts of whether he was good for you—was going to stop you from being with him, you watched him… soften. Let you in.
You saw him on lazy summer afternoons, stretched out in the bed of his truck, hands behind his head, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips as he stared up at the sky. You saw him when he picked you up for late-night drives, old country rock humming low from the radio, one hand on the wheel, the other resting warm on your thigh.
Back then, he was just a man trying to carve out a place in a world that had never been kind to him. A man with rough hands but a soft touch when they traced the curve of your back. A man who met the world with a scowl but looked at you like you were a miracle—something precious, something his, something he’d spend a lifetime trying to deserve.
You remembered the nights he’d come to you after a bad fight with Merle, his knuckles split, his jaw clenched. He’d never talk about it, never tell you what happened—but he’d let you run your fingers through his hair, let you patch him up in the glow of your bedside lamp.
“You’re too good for me,” he’d mutter sometimes, voice low, like he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear it. Like he was afraid that this time you’d believe him and run for the hills.
And you’d brush your fingers through his hair, tilt his chin so he had no choice but to meet your eyes.
"You don’t get to decide that," you’d tell him, voice warm, certain.
He never argued. Just pulled you close, held onto you like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers.
And now, here in the middle of the world ending, he still held onto you like that.
The way those rough, calloused hands could still be careful, still be tender when they touched you. The way he always put himself between you and trouble, whether it was a walker shambling too close or some asshole in camp running his mouth. The way he let you get near, let you see him in a way no one else did.
Some things hadn’t changed, even when everything else had.
Something about those memories had your lips crashing back onto his, pressing him against the boulder with a force that made him grunt softly into your mouth. His fingers dug into your waist, like he wasn’t sure if he should stop you or drag you closer, but you didn’t give him a choice.
You grabbed the collar of his dirty shirt, fisting the fabric as you kissed him deep, claiming, letting him feel the way you wanted him. He let you have it—let you take and take, let you push up on your toes and press into him like you couldn’t get close enough.
Then, when your hips rolled just right against his, he growled. Low, guttural, needy against your mouth.
His hands slid down, gripping the curve of your ass, dragging you closer until your hips fit against the hard press of him. You gasped against his lips, nails raking up the nape of his neck, and pulled the short hair that stuck there, and that was what made something snap in him.
He twisted you around so fast you barely had time to think, hands gripping your hips as he pressed you forward, your palms bracing against the boulder. The rough stone bit into your skin, but it barely registered. Not with the heat of him behind you, breath hot against your neck, hands dragging under your shirt, spanning wide over your ribs before sliding down.
“You want somethin’ from me, girl? Hmm?” His voice was ragged but taunting, sending goosebumps down your spine as he leaned his body over you.
A sharp breath left you when he pulled your hips back against him, grinding slow, measured, and the stiff press of his cock behind his jeans made your eyes roll, feeling just how much he wanted you too.
His lips dragged over the back of your neck, sucking in a breath like a hiss when you pressed your ass back into him.
“You, w–want you, Dare,” you murmured, the sound of his name breaking something open in him.
His fingers hooked under the waistband of your denim shorts, yanking them down with a roughness that made your breath catch, the cooling night air biting against flushed skin.
After the clatter of his belt buckle and the sharp zip of his jeans, he was on you—kissing your shoulder where the strap of your shirt fell, your neck, anywhere his lips could reach. Then he was there—thick, warm, heady with a scent that made you dizzy. He pressed the tip of his cock into you with a need so desperate it made your knees weak. Your center was slick with wanton need just from his touch, his kisses, the way he took you like he had to—like it was instinct, carved into him, a hunger he could never ignore. His hands splayed over your stomach, dragging you back onto him with a solid thrust, his breath heavy against your shoulder as he took you to the hilt in one long press of his hips.
“I love you,” he said, voice hoarse as he continued to press open mouthed kisses to your skin, “Love you so god damn much,”
The sun dipped lower, its dying light casting everything in cool blue and shadow, the only warmth now rolling off Daryl’s body. You turned your head, reaching back to thread your fingers into his hair, tugging until his lips found yours in a kiss that was all teeth and hunger. It was haphazard, messy in the way that made it real—the slide of tongues, the clash of breath, the moan that tore from your throat, loud and shameless against the quiet night.
He groaned into your mouth, swallowing the sound, pressing his forehead against yours for the briefest second before dragging his lips down your jaw, your neck, everywhere he could reach with his mouth. His hips rolled in steady, aching thrusts, sinking deep before dragging his cock out slow, teasing, making you squirm against the rock.
“I love you too,” you murmured, voice wrecked, sincere. “Always, Daryl.”
His jaw slacked and he rested his face against your shoulder, his pace growing rougher, more erratic, each thrust punctuated by the sharp slap of skin against skin, his groans mixing with the wet, sinful sounds of your bodies joining in the cool evening air.
“So good f’me, baby,” he whimpered, the sound raw, unraveling. His hand slipped between you and the rough stone in front of you, fingers seeking, finding, calloused fingertips pressing into the heat of you. He knew your body too damn well—knew exactly how to wind you up, knew what it took to have you gasping, shaking, screaming his name just the way he liked it.
“Daryl, it’s—too much—they’ll hear—” you choked, gasping as his fingers worked tight, slow circles over your swollen clit, a shudder wracking through your body.
His lips dragged up the side of your neck, breath hot, voice ragged.
“Fuck ‘em,” he murmured, his voice low and grinding. “Wanna hear every pretty sound you make for me. Wanna feel you come on my cock, just like you always do—c’mon now, baby, give it to me. Be a good girl now.”
A shudder rolled through you, his words sinking deep, making it impossible to fight the pleasure coiling hot in your belly. His fingers pressed harder, circling your clit with devastating precision, his thrusts turning sharp and frantic.
You bit your lip, trying to smother the cry threatening to break free, but he wasn’t having it.
Daryl’s free hand came up across your chest, fingers gripping your jaw, tilting your head so his lips were right against your ear. “Don’t you hold back on me,” he rasped. “Wanna hear you, feel you, know you’re mine.”
Your body tensed, the pleasure mounting too fast, too sharp, and when his teeth scraped down against your pulse point, it sent you flying.
Your moan broke free, loud and inhibited as your eyes rolled back, Daryl groaning in response, the noise tearing from his throat as his hips slammed in rhythm with his fingers against you.
“There it is,” he gritted out, voice strained. “That’s my girl, fuck—jus’ like that, baby.”
The pleasure tore through you like wildfire, your palms trembling against the rough stone. Your walls clenched tight around him, and Daryl let out a deep, wrecked fuck, his rhythm faltering as he chased his own release.
With a sharp curse, he pulled his hand from your clit once he knew you were through, his breath hot and ragged against your shoulder. His thrusts grew erratic, deeper, rougher, chasing his own release. At the last second, he pulled out, his fist working over his cock, a deep, guttural groan tearing from his throat as thick ropes of cum spilled onto your lower back, hot and slick against your skin.
For a long moment, all that filled the night air was the sound of heavy breathing, the cool breeze ghosting over sweat-slicked skin.
You turned your head, looking at him over your shoulder, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. “Come wash up with me?”
Daryl huffed, still catching his breath, his hands squeezing at your hips like he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet. “Yeah? That what you want?”
You leaned back just enough for your ass to brush against him, teasing, knowing exactly what you were doing. “Well… we’re already dirty,” you mused, glancing at him with a glint in your eyes. “Might as well get clean together.”
Daryl let out a rough chuckle, his fingers dragging slow and deliberate over your skin. “You’re killin’ me, girl.”
You grinned, pulling off the rest of your clothes before taking his hand and tugging him towards the water’s edge.
“Well? You comin’?”
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i love love love this
No need for jealousy
Daryl Dixon x Reader
This was a requesto for season 2 Daryl with a crush on reader, jealous of her friendship with Rick, and it turned into a ver long one-shot. Season 1 and 2, Daryl being insecure and jealous, fluff.
Daryl glanced up from his arrows and towards you at the distant sound of laughter.
You were talking with Glenn, Andrea, and Amy, joking it seemed, while some stew brew over the campfire for dinner. He scoffed, wondering what you all could even have to joke about, and he looked back down at his arrows before you could catch him staring…it was bad enough that you did the day before.
His eyes, though, were stubborn and seemed to have power over his thoughts, because soon, they were darting to you again. This time, you looked at him before he could look down, and when you noticed it, you smiled at him, so Daryl quickly averted his eyes from you.
Soon enough, though, he heard steps approaching, and he looked up enough to check that it was you, walking towards his and his brother’s tents, a bowl of stew in each of your hands.
“Hey,” you greeted, but he didn’t say anything, eyes on his fingers, which were fidgeting with his arrows. “I bring some dinner.”
“Can cook my own,” he said, glancing at you just enough to see your smile faltering for a second before it was back as you shrugged.
“I know…but you already caught the rabbit that’s in this stew, so…” When he didn’t say anything, you lowered down enough to place the bowl of stew in front of him.
“Thanks.” The word slipped past his lips as a low rasp, even if Daryl hadn’t meant to speak, and his eyes once again looked from his arrows to you in time to see your smile. His lip twitch up at it into the smallest of the smiles, just a second, without him being able to stop it. Your smile went bigger at that and Daryl’s stomach did something weird, and he averted his eyes again.
Keep reading
#the slowburn#the pining#i couldnt ask for anything better#fic reccs#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#twd#quarry daryl u have my heart
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One Night or Forever?
Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...
Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering
Set in Season 1!
Word Count: 4,5k
a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.
Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...
EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist
"Booyah!"
Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.
You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.
Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.
After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.
Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.
This wasn't your room.
You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.
"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"
You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...
With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.
"Daryl?"
You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.
"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.
Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.
In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.
You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!
"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.
The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.
Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.
Some might say this escalated quickly...
"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.
The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.
"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.
Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.
"Pf, yer bluffin'."
"I'm not."
"Yeah, ya 'r."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."
"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"
"Nah, jus' statin' facts."
Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.
You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.
"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.
Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...
It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."
You did.
"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?
"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.
Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.
"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...
The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.
Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.
Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.
"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...
You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.
"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.
Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.
His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.
"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?
The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.
More friction.
More pleasure.
More of Daryl.
The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.
Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.
Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?
His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.
Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.
Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.
Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.
"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.
A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.
A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?
"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?
You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.
To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.
When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?
Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.
You could barely manage to look into his eyes.
You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...
Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.
It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.
"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.
"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.
"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"
That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.
"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?
You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."
A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."
Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...
"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.
He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...
"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.
You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."
As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.
He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.
Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.
You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.
Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.
When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.
His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.
He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.
"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.
Yeah... He was definitely whipped.
Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon fan fiction#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd daryl#twd daryl dixon#twd fic#twd fanfiction#twd#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead fic#the walking dead fanfic#daryl x reader#twd smut#the walking dead smut
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Best Served Cold
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.
Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓
Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.
A lot.
You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.
Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water���s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.
Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.
The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.
The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.
“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.
You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.
A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.
You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.
You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.
Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.
“Ya done pissin’ or what?”
You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.
You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.
“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.
At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?
You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.
“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”
Ah.
At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.
So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.
Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.
In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.
“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.
You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.
When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.
Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.
“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.
Daryl managed a curt nod.
Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”
You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.
“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.
Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.
You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.
Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.
He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.
��Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.
He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.
“I was jus—” Daryl started.
“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”
You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.
But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.
Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.
The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.
You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.
“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.
You almost choked on your spit.
“What?”
“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”
You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.
“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.
“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.
If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.
“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”
And Shane was community dick. Made sense.
You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.
“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.
Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.
“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.
You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.
“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”
“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.
“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.
“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.
You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.
“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”
You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.
“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.
In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.
“Shane, I don’t wanna—”
“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.
“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.
When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.
The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.
“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.
You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.
Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.
“Y/N!” he bellowed.
In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.
You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.
Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.
Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.
Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.
At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.
You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.
“Dar— oh!”
Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.
“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.
“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.
“Told him no,” you murmured back.
You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.
“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.
“Don’t. Please,” you said.
“Did he—”
“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”
“Oh.”
Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.
You felt aroused.
Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.
You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.
“You think maybe—” you started.
“Yeah?”
“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”
Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.
“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.
“Just…jerking off to you.”
He never had been any good at a bluff.
Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.
“Yeah? What about?”
Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.
“I…well…”
“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”
Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.
“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.
You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.
He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.
You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.
You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.
You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.
“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.
“Daryl!”
“Daryl?”
Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.
Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,
“Yeah?”
“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”
Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.
Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.
“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.
“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”
You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.
You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.
Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.
“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.
“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”
‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.
“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.
He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.
You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.
Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.
“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.
Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.
That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.
But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.
“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.
“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”
You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.
And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—
“Eat shit, Walsh.”
“Just help me out. Please.”
Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.
With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.
A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.
You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.
Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.
When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon one shot#daryl dixon imagine#daryl x reader#the walking dead#twd daryl#twd fanfiction#twd imagine#smut#shane walsh#shane walsh smut
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Yup, s’all mine
Summary: Shane, tries to make a move on reader when Lori takes Rick back, only to find out she’s already taken…by Daryl.
Era: Quarry
Warning: MDNI, Age Gap between Daryl(40) and Reader(mid 20s), possessiveness, swearing, suggestive content.
Shane couldn’t fathom the idea of Lori and Carl being reunited with Rick. He sneered at the thought of his name itself. Walking around the quarry to try to keep his head clear of the invasive thoughts of hurting rick, his mind suddenly drifted to the beauty just a few feet ahead of him.
Shane was so wrapped up in his whole affair with Lori that he had never taken the time to actually get to acknowledge you. Shane bit his lip watching you from behind one of the trees of the Georgian forest.
You were writing in a pink journal, with a pink pen, that had a silly little fluffy ball on top, which waved around every time the ink hit the paper.
He bit his lip, seeing your legs crossed over each other, exposed to the bright sun, in your short little denim skirt, which seems to compliment your curves and round ass perfectly.
He felt his pants tighten slightly when he looked over your pronounced breasts in the small white tube top that wrapped around them securely. He thanked god for the cool Georgian breeze making your nipples hard. His mouth practically watered, imaging how they would feel in between his teeth as he sucked on them.
Shane hasn’t realized how much he really started to admire you. His heart slowly increasing, as he observed more of your features. The way your wavy long hair flowed in the breeze, your glittery glossy lips puckering or forming into the shape of a thin line as you thought of what to write next. He couldn’t get enough of your beauty.
“Tha fuck ya’ think yer’ doin’ er’ Shane?!” The sound of a familiar southern drawl interrupted Shane lewd thoughts as he stalked you from afar. Shane furrowed his brows in slight anger as he was interrupted from being able to admire you.
“Honestly Daryl, it’s none of your business.” Shane then proceeded to try to walk past Daryl, but he stopped him by putting his hand on his shoulder roughly and looking at Shane, with dark eyes full of anger. “Don’ bother with er’ she’s mine.” Shane scoffed defensively and shaked Daryl’s hand off his shoulder. “Fuck off redneck, I can do what I want.” And with a sinister smirk, Shane walked back to the camp. Now feeling ever more fueled to per-sue you. What one thing Shane loved most than messing with a marriage, is chasing after someone like if was a game.
Daryl felt uneasy, at the sinister look that Shane carried in his eyes the whole time he was watching you, trying to stay hidden in the treelines.
He couldn’t help but feel so angry not even being able to think of what sinister thoughts Shane most likely was thinking as he watched you.
After the short heated exchange between the two Daryl quickly walked down the small hill and past the tree line to reach you.
Your head quickly snapped at the sound of someone’s steps emerging from beside you, causing you to quickly get up from the rock you were sitting on and pull out your hunting knife that Daryl had bought for you.
Your heart thumped when you saw the archer-your archer emerging from the tree line. The look of his stoic expressionless face causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion at what he could possibly be bumming him out.
Daryl quickly wrapped an arm around your waist, roughly pulling you closer to his chest, “what’s wrong Daryl?” You asked while softly putting your arms around his neck.
He ignored your question while his lips roughly latched onto your neck, attacking every inch of skin you had exposed, roughly sucking and bitting on it, purposely leaving sloppy hot wet kisses and hickeys on you. You threw your head back when you felt one of his hands roughly grope your ass, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.
You had no idea what had gotten in to him, being used to Daryl only being able to touch and kiss you in the privacy of your tent. He wasn’t big on PDA, or showing anyone you guys were even a couple so him being this greedy with you in a big open space by the quarry left you a bit puzzled.
“S’all Mine… all fuckin’ mine.” Daryl groaned out as he softly lifted you up and layed you down on the rock you were sitting on as his lips left a trail of his sloppy kisses from your neck down to your chest, and onto your exposed stomach.
You squirmed slightly feeling more aroused at his roughness, and how eager he seemed to want to claim you.
“Daryl, fuck….” You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of his hands all over you. But you had a feeling something was up with him, and as much as you were enjoying his affection for you, you had to ask him once more.
“Daryl baby, stop.” You managed to let out with a strangled moan, to your surprise Daryl growled and quickly got up from his position on top of you, his gaze on you darkened in annoyance as you fixed your top that managed to slip a bit, almost revealing your nipples to the world. You pulled down your skirt and flattened your hair as you now stood up in front of him.
He was glaring at you, and had crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively, waiting for you to speak.
“Daryl what’s wrong?” You asked softly placing a hand on his cheek. He scoffed and quickly backed away from your touch, slightly causing you to feel a slight sting to your heart- you didn't take it personal, knowing how he used this as a defense mechanism.
“I want ya to stay away from Shane alrigh’? He’s fuckin’ weird, don’ want him around ya.” He anxiously bit the inside of his cheek and wrapped his arms across his chest, clearly uncomfortable with what he was saying. He was ready for any sort of outburst or reservations you would have against his warning against shane. Everyone in the camp idolized him like a good, but Daryl couldn't stand him and was the only one to see right through his facade. But to his shock you smiled softly at him and agreed with him.
“Okay Daryl. I’ll stay clear of him, can I ask why though?” Daryl bit his lip as he watched over your expressions.
“Since Lori is fuckin her husband again, I think that prick is desperate for some other kind of attention.”
You nodded, understanding his tension and why he was so hesitant to speak to you about the subject. Your lips curls up at how overprotective he had gotten with you, “s’my good girl.” Daryl said softly as he rubbed his knuckles on the side of your face, causing you to lean into his tender touch.
Later that day, Daryl has gone hunting, we were running low on meat for dinner. He was hesitant on leaving you alone, especially with Shane being around but had to get the job done. He offered to take you with him but you refused, you didn’t really have anything that was ‘hunting’ appropriate, which made you mentally remember to pick up better clothes for the future, you had to get out of the habit of your old lifestyle and cursing yourself for not bringing any appopriate survival clothes once you left the city. The world has changed and is all about pure survival now, not a fashion show.
As you sat in front of Daryl’s tent reading a book on a log, you heard footsteps approaching you. Not caring to look up, assuming the person was just walking by, you’re eyes widen when the person was toe to toe with you. Your eyes slowly trailed up to the figure and saw Shane staring back at you, his eyes full of lust as you looked through his darken gaze.
“Can I help you?” You asked rather rudely, catching him off guard. Causing him to scoff and give you an amusing smirk.
“What are you doing over here?” His eyes narrowed at you, “reading a book? What’s it look like?”
He rolled his eyes slightly, his lips turning up into a curl.
“Nah girl, what’s a pretty girl like you doing around Daryl Dixon? Ya know he’s not safe to be around.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment, seriously? Daryl wasn't safe to be around was he joking?
“Honestly, I dont think its any of your buisness.” After your curt response he crouched down to you until he was eye level with you. His nostrils flared as he snatched your book out of your hands.
“Shane!” You yelled out trying to grab the book from behind him. Shane maliciously then held it above his head, making you get on your tippy toes to try to snatch it back. He smirked at your failed attempts and quickly wrapped an arm around you, puling you close to him.
"What the fuck? Get off of me!" You tried your hardest to get out of his grasp but failed miserably in his strong grip.
"He's trailer park white trash darlin', wasting your time being with someone like that." You couldn't believe what he was saying and at this point, you were over him.
You raised your hand and slapped him as hard as you could, leaving a print of your handprints and nails on his cheek. He ragefully let you go with a shove, then causing you to back up as far as you could from him.
"y/n?" you turned at the voice, knowing it was your man. "Daryl." You replied softly and hurried up to his side, Daryl quickly checked you over for any sort of injuries, his features then softened when he saw the look of fear in your face. Becoming enraged, Daryl quickly flashed Shane a harden glare causing fear to emerge in his eyes as he quickly looked away and hurried out of the secluded area.
"Fucker wouldn't leave me alone, I hope that slap showed him who he's messing with." You were fuming, beyond angered at how Shane was trying to get into your pants.
"I'll kill em'"Daryl threatened with a low growl but you softly placed a hand on his bicep, stopping him from doing anything irrational. He tensed up, jaw clenched still trying to fight his urges not to go after him.
"Im all yours, he just can't seem to get the hint, maybe we should show him how serious we are huh?" You smirked thinking of a wonderful idea to get it through his thick head.
˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻
"Fuck! Daryl! Keep going...Dont stop baby." You moaned out loud from a part of the woods that you both knew he would be around.
Daryl kept thrusting into you from behind as he bent you over a rock.
You heard a twig snap, knowing it was Shane who was trying to see what the noise was about.
His eyes widen when he got a glimpse of Daryl, pants pooled to his ankles, and you on your tippy toes-bent over a rock as he was fucking you from behind. You were screaming Daryl's name and moaning as he fucked you mercilessly.
Shane quickly averted his eyes and looked away, feeling embarrased beyond belief. Now knowing to steer clear from you.
#twd daryl#daryl dixon#twd x reader#the walking dead#twd daryl dixon#daryl x reader#daryl one shot#daryl x female reader#daryl fanfiction
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Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Matchmaker Merle

Warnings: slight drug use, mentions of Lori, Daryl is a virgin, Shane being Shane, No use of Y/N, unprotected sex
Summary: Merle tries to get Daryl laid with an old family friend. Apparently, Merle is a master matchmaker? Buildup to smut.
Notes: Sorry for having the buildup so slow, I'm really bad at porn without at least a LITTLE plot lmao
You were allowed a little leeway your first day at camp. Glenn had found you, confused and lost, covered in dirt and blood after the bombs had gone off and separated you from your friends and family. You were on the highway, like everyone else, but as soon as they saw the city being lit up, all hell broke loose. They started acting like animals. Running and screaming, looting. The dead coming back to life didn't help much either.
On your second day, you were expected to start pitching in. You didn't mind helping, it was the way Shane approached you that rubbed you the wrong way. You offered to help hunt, fish, and go out looking for supplies, but he just laughed at you. He laughed like you were a child asking for a gun. He handed you a brush and sat you down beside Carol, who was washing clothes at the bottom of the quarry.
You found comfort in familiarity. Which came in the form of something extremely unexpected, Merle Dixon. Maybe it was because you'd seen each other a few times at the corner store back near where you lived, maybe it was the fact he had respect for your folks, but when you were taken back to camp he didn't treat you the way he treated the other women.
He wasn't respectful or chivalrous by any means, but he didn't treat you like a piece of meat. He didn't constantly try to get in your pants or speak to you in that slimy demeaning way he had with Andrea or Amy. You were grateful for it, even if you did catch him staring at your ass more than once, because he was the one thing that made you feel a little more at home with the group.
You'd never met his brother before. You'd seen him once, at the small mechanic shop near the corner store you'd occasionally see Merle in. Rednecks were anything but rare where you grew up, but something about Daryl felt different. He was quieter, more of Merle's shadow than his own person. But you knew just by looking at him that he was anything but somebody's shadow.
He saw you on your second day, after you'd done your morning “chores” and went to sit next to the campfire. He was carving something, maybe a bolt for his crossbow, and he barely looked up when you sat down across from him.
Daryl looked up again, a spark of recognition in his eyes. His voice, strong and firm, called your name as if it was a question.
“Yes?” You could see the exact moment the realization clicked that he did in fact remember you.
He didn't know much about you at all. He knew Merle knew your folks, and you lived pretty close, but he'd never actually spoken to you before.
He did like to watch you, though, you'd always go into the corner store next to the mechanic shop and buy a coke and a bag of chips at lunch. He thought you were the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. Merle had a different set of words he'd prefer to use for you, but Daryl thought they felt too nasty. You weren't white trash, you were pretty, out of place, and the words ‘hot piece of ass' just didn't fit you.
“Shit. Didn't think it was you when they said your name yesterday.” His fingers absentmindedly rubbed the length of his stick, looking over you a few times as he tongued the inside of his cheek in thought. “Huh. You seen Merle yet?”
“Yeah, I got here yesterday morning.” You answered, the day before Daryl had been gone most of the day hunting. By the time he got back you were already in your new tent, something that Glenn had made sure to pick up when he brought you back to his group.
“What happened? Your folks alright?” He asked, knowing it was strange for you to be here without your family and friends.
“I have no idea. Don't remember much. We were real close to the city when the bombs went off, all I remember is fire and screaming and I woke up in the back of a gas station.”
He nodded again, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he listened.
Daryl wanted to stay with you, talk for a while, having a familiar face made him feel like less of an outsider. But from the corner of his eye he saw Shane with his hands on his hips in that stupid pose he liked to do when he was about to give someone attitude. Daryl looked back to you and gathered his crossbow and bolts, muttering a quick excuse about needing to go hunt and that he'd see you around. He couldn't stand Shane, he'd only known him for a few weeks, give or take, and he was doing everything he could to avoid the wife fucker.
Shane gave you a talking to that evening, warning you about the “backwoods rednecks”, even though you knew it wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. It was just another way to control the people in his camp, something he got off on doing. He didn't trust either of the Dixon brothers, that was for certain, but going out of his way to ‘warn’ you? It took everything in you to just nod and say okay.
“When you gonna tap that, baby brother?” Merle's voice and the way he said it made Daryl cringe. He needed to do a better job about not staring at you so blatantly.
“Not my type.” Daryl lied through his teeth, picking another strip of stringy squirrel meat from the stick he'd used to roast it over the fire.
The Dixon brothers usually had a smaller, separate fire away from the main groups. It was mostly Merle's idea, he'd tell Daryl ‘they're not like us, keep your distance, we're just redneck trash to them.’. Not that Daryl gave a shit. He mostly thought the same anyways.
You were at the group fire, sitting beside Andrea and Amy, who were busy chattering about how they wished they could catch some fish instead of surviving off tree rats and canned peas. You didn't mind it, even though you preferred larger game, meat was meat. You ate your squirrel like it was a gourmet dinner, something Daryl took note of.
“Not your type? Hah! That's bullshit and we both know it. She's everybody's type, boy, you better get on that before someone else does.”
Daryl wasn't sure who Merle was referring to. Glenn could barely speak to women, T-Dog was far too respectful, Shane was so far up Lori’s ass he had shit in his ears. (That's so gross I'm so sorry)
The sound of harsh sniffing had Daryl looking away from you and back to his brother. He wiped the white residue from his nose and offered Daryl his large knife, containing another line.
“Nah. I'm good.” Daryl waved him off, not feeling like being on uppers around all these people. Made his temper even shorter than it already was. “Careful with that shit, if Shane sees-”
“He ain't gonna do shit about it. I'd like to see him say somethin’.” The fact Merle was always looking for an excuse to butt heads had Daryl on edge. “Take it, and go take her off in the woods before I do.”
It never took too much demanding from Merle before Daryl would give in. It was a fatal flaw in his character. He looked up to him and whatever he said went, even when he didn't really want to. So he took the coke and worked up the nerves to talk to you.
You'd just finished washing everyone's stupid dirty dishes and went into the woods to piss when you saw Daryl again. You gasped as you walked around the tree you'd used for cover and saw him walking through the treeline, worried he'd seen you. But he was too focused on his steps, and that put you at ease.
You walked up the half-assed trail to meet him, not feeling like chatting next to your pee puddle.
“Hey, you going hunting?” You asked, slipping your hands in your shorts pockets.
He shook his head as he reached you, snatching a stray stick out of his hair. “Goin’ down to some of the old shops down the road. Tired of all these canned peas. You comin’?”
You eagerly nodded, happy to be away from the group. They were nice enough, but since you normally hung around Merle, they treated you as someone they didn't fully trust. Especially Lori, Shane and Dale. The amount of times you caught Lori staring daggers into you every time you were within ten feet of Carl was starting to drive you insane.
“Been wanting to get out and do something for days. Can't fucking stand Shane's micromanaging.” You said as you walked, wishing you would've known you'd be going on an impromptu supply run. You only had your knife, you'd prefer to have your Ruger your father had given you. It was in the RV, where Shane had taken it to ‘clean’. You were more than suspicious that he just didn't want you carrying a gun around camp.
Daryl snorted. “Yeah. Can't stand that asshole. What kinda man-” He stopped himself, shaking his head.
“What?” You looked over at him, careful not to trip on the multiple storm blown branches from the larger trees.
“Nothin’. Just don't like ‘em.”
You were silent for a few minutes as you thought of something to say. You know, in apocalypse type situations, you mainly think about securing your next meal, how to not get killed in your sleep, how to protect your friends and family. But here you were, trying to think of what to say to a man you were steadily growing attracted to. You always thought he was cute before this, but seeing how capable he was, how he was so sure of himself, it was a side to him you didn't expect. It was like he was one of those people always secretly hoping for an excuse to go live in the woods and live in anarchy.
“How attached are you to this group?” He asked, catching you off guard.
“Not at all. Can't stand most of them. Why?”
“Just thinkin’ about leavin’. Don't belong here with these people. Lori screamed at a damn snake the other day and got the kids all riled up.” He had a visible look of distaste on his face. Of all things to scream your head off at in an apocalypse, wildlife wasn't on your list.
“Are you asking me to come?” You asked, unsuccessfully attempting to hide your excitement. The idea of splitting off with the Dixon brothers seemed your best bet, even if Merle was, well, Merle. You knew you were probably one of the only women on earth that didn't have to worry about him constantly trying to get in your pants. What you didn't know though, was that he was trying his damnedest to get his little brother laid, even if you were the daughter of a family friend.
“Yeah. You don't belong here either.” You didn't know if it was true or not, but it felt true to you.
“Sure. As long as I'm not gonna be a burden, or anything.” You knew you'd need to rely on the two of them for protection and some food, at least until you got used to your new life. You adapted fairly quickly.
“Wouldn't’ve asked if you were.”
“Alright, well, if you make up your mind, let me know.”
You arrived at the first store, a small gas station much like the one the two of you used to frequent back then. It was fairly untouched, but you knew it wouldn't be that way for long.
You broke into a bag of jerky, thankful it was Daryl with you and not anyone else. If someone gave you a speech on taking care of the group before yourself you might just take off on your own without Daryl.
He scored a bunch of chips, some cup noodles, and a 6 pack of beer for Merle.
Instead of going back like you'd originally planned, you talked each other into going further off down the road to an old Dollar General. You stored your stash in a hollowed out log next to the road so you wouldn't need to carry it the entire time and carried on.
“This was a great idea.” Your tongue was stained red from sour patch kids, you went through five bags and gave Daryl the greens and yellows.
Daryl licked the sour crystals from his fingertips and grunted in agreement, tossing the empty bag over his shoulder off the roof that the two of you had gone up to to indulge in your spoils.
You laid on your back and sighed, surrounded by empty snack bags and wrappers. “Fuck. I needed this.” Neither of you cringed at your corny comment, because although a cliche, you really, really did need this.
Daryl hadn't eaten much besides the gummies, thanks to being pressured into taking the coke by Merle. He cursed himself for it, wishing he had the nerve to just say no and stick with it.
He glanced over at you, your body orange in the light of the setting sun. You still wore those cute short Bobbie Brooks shorts he'd always seen you wearing around town. His eyes drifted to your legs and he let out a soft exhale, wishing he was as silver tongued as he thought his brother was. Even if the ladies rarely appreciated Merle's filthy flirting, he had to admit his one liners were pretty impressive sometimes.
You opened your eyes and used your hand as a shield from the sun to look at him. You'd barely caught him staring at your legs, and felt a smile tug at your lips.
“You wanna fool around?” You half joked, prepared to laugh if he turned you down. But the look on his face told you he really, really didn't want to turn you down.
He froze for a moment, his eyes looking anywhere but you, his heart hammering against his chest. His thoughts ran frantic, from Merle telling him to have sex with you, and to you, who he was terrified to have sex with. He was suddenly very grateful for the coke he'd taken, and it clicked in his mind why Merle had been so insistent on him taking it. He knew he wouldn't last three minutes without it.
“You serious?” He asked, his brows knitted tightly together from the sun and in concentration as he read your face.
“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged, sitting upright so you didn't have to keep squinting up at him. You looked cool on the outside, but on the inside you were barely holding it together. You'd never thought of Daryl this way before, given you'd only seen him once before all this, but now that you were, it felt like you were about to potentially have sex with the hottest man on earth.
“Uh, yeah, I guess.”
Awkward was an understatement. Daryl didn't know what to do with his hands. His dick had been hard off and on the whole trip with you, despite the coke. He didn't know what would feel good to you, something he found himself oddly concerned with. His only experience with women was watching them getting fucked in porn, so he tried it that way.
Your eyes widened in surprise when he quickly turned and leaned over you, his hands slipping up your shirt. He choked out a gasp, looking down at the outline of his hands as he squeezed your tits. You were caught off guard by his sudden boldness, and the way he was roughly groping your chest wasn't helping. You grimaced, about to tell him to ease up, but he caught your mouth in an unexpected kiss before you could speak.
You were way too horny to care about how messy his kissing was. Truthfully, it was pretty hot, filled with so much desire and lust that it didn't matter he was inexperienced. The fact he was this eager just because of you had you moaning into his mouth.
He took that as a sign he was doing something right and rolled your nipples between his fingers, doing what felt right. He pinched them, making you gasp against his lips, and he couldn't hide the crooked grin from his face. He pulled back just long enough to start unbuttoning your shirt.
You took over for him, not wanting him to get impatient and rip off one of your only good shirts. When his eyes landed on your chest he whimpered, he fucking whimpered! You groaned at the sound and pulled him back against you by his shoulders, sinking your head into the crook of his neck to kiss the skin there.
He hadn't expected you to do anything to him. In the videos he watched, most of the time the dude just rips her clothes off and fucks her in different positions for half an hour while she screams and moans like she's hurt. He hated that sound, the over exaggerated noises, he much preferred the noises you made.
You laid down on your back, grateful the sun had sunk below the tips of the trees so it wasn't so bright anymore. He was on you in a second, now kissing your neck, eager to give you the same pleasure you were making him feel. The moan that rumbled in your chest made his heart jump, knowing he was doing something right.
“God, s’so good.” You exhaled lazily, your eyes closing as he used his knee to kick your thighs apart for his waist. He quickly ground against you, a stifled groan stuck in his throat at the feeling of friction.
“Take ‘em off.” He demanded, tugging impatiently at your shorts before he went to unbuckle his belt. You happily obliged, unbuttoning your shorts and dragging them down your thighs.
When Daryl saw your lacy red panties he shivered. At camp, most of the underwear he saw hanging up were more… practical? The women had quickly changed their lace panties and thongs for boy shorts, but here you were, the skin around your hips indented obscenely from the way they hugged you like magic.
“Fuck.” He exhaled deeply, his forehead resting against yours as he looked down at your body under his. He was really, really glad Merle gave him coke. Just the sight of you mostly naked under him had his cock throbbing painfully.
He finished with his pants, only pulling them down enough to drag his leaking dick out, his jaw dropping when he saw you shimmying out of your panties. His head spun, his mouth watered, and before he could even think he was scooting down to plant his face between your legs.
You gasped, your head falling back against the rough flooring of the roof. He was so eager., so heartbreakingly eager to please you, it had your pussy so wet it was almost unbearable. His hot tongue was sloppy, inaccurate, it couldn't decide where it wanted to be. He'd be licking broad stripes one second, and the next he was swirling it around your clit. You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't as inexperienced as you believed.
Daryl learned all he knew about sex from porn. If there was one thing he was fascinated about, it was giving head. One of the first things he always wanted to do was eat out a woman. He never thought it would be someone as hot as you.
He tried everything he knew that made the women in videos moan, and to his surprise, you moaned the most when he kept it simple and just sucked your clit. So he did that, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking it into his mouth to roll his tongue around.
You were in shambles. You tried desperately to pull at his hair, but it was too short to grab so you settled on sinking your nails into his scalp as you rolled your hips against his face and tried not to be so loud.
Your jaw dropped and your eyes squeezed shut when he dug his tongue into the side of your clit, dragging your orgasm out so unexpectedly that you gasped.
“Fuck, oh, oh god!” You sputtered, your thighs squeezing his head to hold him there as you came, your back arching and your toes curling so hard your foot almost cramped up.
Daryl slipped his hand under him and grabbed his cock, stroking it as he felt your body tremble and jerk under him. He was sure this was a dream, he'd wake up any second in his tent with Merle snoring beside him and you all the way across camp. He squeezed his dick, milking the precum from his tip as your thighs finally relaxed.
“My god. You're really good at that.” You panted, your eyes blurry as you watched him slide up your body and take its place on top of you.
He grinned, knowing you were unintentionally starting to give him an ego. “Yeah?” He racked his brain for dirty talk, but since it was fried from making you cum, all he could come up with was “I got somethin’ I'm even better at.” Complete lie.
You, on the other hand, had no idea he was a virgin, and grinned widely at the implications, shifting your body up till you felt his heavy cock graze against your inner thigh. The feeling alone sent a bolt through your body, and your chest heaved with deep excited breaths.
He leaned up and grabbed your shoulder, signaling for you to turn over. You didn't question it and rolled over, propping yourself on your hands and knees.
The sight of you from behind had him falling apart. He let out a quiet whimper and bit his bottom lip before grabbing his cock and scooting forward to push it against you.
“Jesus, so fuckin wet.” He breathed, his heart beating so loud he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his dick between your folds, going through all the steps in his head that he'd seen countless times. He even slapped it against your pussy a few times, missing the amused expression on your face, and pushed himself into you.
What Daryl didn't learn from porn was that usually, you go in slow when someone hasn't had sex recently. So when he just pushed his dick inside you with no hesitation you cried out, the burn from the unprepared stretching making you jolt forward. He grabbed your hips to bring you back against him, his jaw going slack as he felt your hot wet walls squeezing the life out of him.
“Fuck!” You spat, the burning and stabbing pain almost enough to turn you off completely. “You gotta be slower than that, Daryl.”
He was too deep to process what you said. He finally let out the breath he'd been holding with a deep, guttural groan, still frozen inside you. “Sah-Sorry.” He sputtered, his hands squeezing your hips so hard you knew for a fact there'd be ten little light purple bruises there tomorrow.
Before you could say or do anything else he started moving, setting the pace quickly, snapping his hips against your ass so roughly your hands almost slipped out from under you. The uncomfortable stretch quickly faded into a deep, primal pleasure, and soon you were letting out short moans with every thrust of his hips.
You barely got used to the feeling before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it back, drawing a cry from your throat. You weren't expecting this from Daryl, he was so confident, so rough, it confused you but drove you absolutely wild at the same time.
His other hand kept its tight grip on your hip, pulling you back to meet each of his demanding thrusts, making sure his dick went as deep as possible each time. The way you were moaning and gasping fueled him to fuck you rougher, wanting to hear every sound that you were possible of making.
“Dirty little whore.” He grunted, his jaw aching from how hard he'd been clenching his teeth.
His words earned a strangled whimper from you, making his lips curl up in a cocky grin.
He fucked you for a while like that, hips pounding against your ass so hard that the noises of your skin slapping was making your cheeks burn in embarrassed arousal. So much for keeping it quiet.
“Hey-” The words were hard to get out from his aggressive thrusts, especially now that he was hunched over your body so he could squeeze your breasts. “I- wanna turn over.”
He raised his chest from your back and took the opportunity to catch his breath while you shifted under him to roll over on your back. The look on your face made him shudder with a quiet gasp. Your face was tinted a light red, blissed out, your pupils blown and hair all messed up around your face. He was back on you immediately, kissing you hungrily as he slipped his cock back inside you, much easier this time.
“Y’feel so fuckin’ good.” He breathed against your lips, wet from his sloppy kisses, and he kissed down your jaw to your neck. His accent was much thicker when he was inside you, barely pronouncing any words fully anymore.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist, angling your hips up so he could drive his cock deeper into you. The new feeling made him moan pathetically into your neck, and he had to stifle the noises he didn't like with a bite to the skin where your neck met shoulder.
The pressure of his teeth had your eyes rolling back in your head. There was so much stimulation, his dick driving relentlessly into your throbbing pussy, his fingers pinching your nipple and the other hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side to give him better access to your neck. A particularly deep thrust made you cry out, and you felt yourself nearing your second orgasm.
“Fuck!” You whined, your eyes squeezing tightly shut as you felt the tension building in your core as he fucked his dick into you.
“That's it, y’gonna come for me?” His teeth drew away from your red neck, a string of spit connecting the two of you.
All you could muster was an obscene “Mhmm!”, your thighs squeezing him tight around the waist.
“C'mon girl.” His words were choppy from the force of his thrusts. He slowed for a second, readjusting himself before building back up to his former quick pace, each thrust sending your body scooting a little upwards along the floor of the roof. You were incredibly thankful it wasn't concrete.
“Lemme hear it, c'mon.” His words alone were enough to send you falling over your edge. Your jaw dropped, your head tilting back as your back arched under his heavy body, and his arm slipped under you to hold your chest tight against his.
The look on your face and the feeling of you cumming around his dick was all he needed. His face went slack and he let out a shameful whine, something he'd never heard himself make before, and came inside you. Neither of you noticed, too fucked out of your minds to even process it.
You cried under him, twisting and squirming, impaled on his dick as your orgasm shook you to your core. Only when the final waves rolled off you did you relax, your eyes struggling to open as your breathing slowed.
Daryl raised his face from your chest and looked down at you, enjoying the look on your face as he regained his bearings. He ran his hands up and down your torso a few times, his eyes appreciating every little red mark on your neck and chest from his teeth.
Only when the last jolts of pleasure left his body did he realize he came inside you.
“Shit.” He grunted as he slowly drug his dick out of you, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the way his cum oozed out between your slick, puffy folds.
“Hmm, ‘s fine.” You mumbled lazily, reaching up to push your hair from your face. “We're on top of a Dollar General. We'll get the morning after pill.”
He nodded at your words, still hypnotized by the sight of his cum leaking out of you. A deep part of him wanted to stuff his dick back in you and keep it in, he didn't know why, but the idea was so hot he could've gone for a round two if you wanted.
“We better get back.” You struggled to prop yourself up on your elbows, your weakened muscles protesting. The sun was well below the trees now, and if you got back when it was dark you knew Shane would throw a goddamn hissy fit.
“We ain't gotta.” He half joked, a lazy grin on his face. “Can just stay here. Go back in the mornin’.”
You smiled, shaking your head, even though the idea was incredibly tempting. “Shane will kill us.”
“Fuck him.”
“I don't wanna piss him off when he's the one in possession of my gun right now.” Your words had him raising his brows and nodding in agreement.
The two of you put your clothes back on and went through the back entrance, grabbing all your bags and making sure to pick up some morning after pills from the locked shelf behind the front desk. You caught him trying to discreetly grab some condoms, not knowing you saw, and you felt excitement bubble in your chest at the prospect of him expecting this to happen again.
Thankfully Shane wasn't in camp when you snuck back in. He was down by the quarry, catching frogs or some shit, and you were able to share your spoils with the group before he came to ask questions.
“Well, shit. Look at you.” Merle was smiling ear to ear, clapping Daryl on the back after he went to his brother's tent with a bag of goodies.
It was extremely obvious what the two of you had done. Your hair was still messy despite you brushing it with your fingers on the way back, your face pink, your neck red. You were climbing into your own tent as Merle watched you from across camp.
Daryl's neck and face were also red, and he had a few scratch marks on the back of his neck.
And his fly was still down.
“Shut up.” Daryl shrugged his brother's hand off him, opening a bag of Funyuns.
“My baby brothers no longer a fuckin’ loser!” He laughed, giving a wolf whistle before playfully ruffling his hair. “Atta boy. I told you.”
“Ya’ ain't tell me shit.” Daryl grumbled, stuffing Funyuns in his mouth to hide the smile that was creeping onto his face.
“Hey.”
“What?” Daryl groaned, exasperated already.
“Think she’ll give me a ride?”
“Shut the hell up, man.”
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Searching for You
•🪽🧺🧟♀️•
Summary: Reader and Daryl have been together since you were teens, you have crazy news for him but then the world falls apart and your searching for him every second
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader
Warning: Pregnant
•Masterlist•

I finished picking up the surprise cake I had specially ordered for the bakery in town for the news I have for Daryl, we live in cabin on the outskirts of town it’s simple but so cozy plus I’m staying with the man I’ve loved since I was in highschool
I got home setting up the surprise, the cake was a round cake with lilac frosting around the edges, with the words baby on board on the top, it was cheesy but the joy I felt trumped that feeling
Soon I heard the rumble of his motorcycle pulling up the drive way and the engine cutting off, my heart pounding slightly nervous of his reaction, sure we’ve been together for years but I knew of his past and how he feared of becoming like his old man
I push those thoughts aside when I hear the door open and his subtle sigh as he flicked his boots off
“Sunshine?” I walk out of the dining room and meet him at the door
“Hi my love, I have a surprise for you” I smile as I wrap my arms around his shoulders as he pulls me close
“Really, more that this cute lil dress ya got on” he smiles making me blush
“Oh stop come on” I take his hand leading him to the table
He read the cake then back at me then down at my belly
“Really?” I nod my head as I wring my fingers anxiously
“Are you mad” he wrapped his hands around my waist down to my little bump
“Ya know I can never be mad at ya……we’re having a baby” he sighs gently
“I know it’s scary but she’s ours”
“She?” He smiled
“Just a feeling, call it mothers intuition”
•
We went to the doctor the next day and found out I was only a month along, we get home and I slump on the couch exhausted
“What me to run out and get ya something for supper?”
“I’m reeeeeeeally craving Chinese”
“Then that’s what ya get sunshine” he smiles giving me a gentle kiss before he was off
I waited for him, when an hour went by then two I started to get nervous it’s a small town I never took more than 20 minutes, I tried his phone but he never answered
I pull on one of his hoodies and my boots, taking the keys to the truck and leave the house, I drive into town and the streets are empty, confused I keep driving until I get to the Main Street where all I see is carnage, people dead and ripped apart blood everywhere, as others are the ones ripping them apart
“What the hell?” I scream when one slams up against the window, I quickly turn around speeding back to the house where it’s still safe hoping Daryl made his way back, I get there running inside screaming for him, begging to any god that he’s here
I run to every room and all I get is silence, what is happening we were just about to start our family, what do I do?
I remember what Daryl and Merle taught me, drilling all the survival skills into my head over the years, I pack a bag full of clothes, weapons around the house Daryl had, food and a note
“Daryl my love, I don’t know if you’ll see this but I’m scared and I don’t know what’s going on, I packed a bag and took the truck I’ll go to the quarry where we went camping I hope you find me, until then”
I suck in a breath trying to hold the tears at bay as I left the home I loved so much hoping in the truck and taking off
•
I finally get to the quarry, and there’s a few people already there, some setting up tents, one man already there with his RV, pretty smart, I get out of the truck nervous hoping they’ll take me in
“Welcome im Dale we’ve had a few people already making themselves at home, are you bite?”
“No i…..I don’t even know what’s going on, I went out to find my husband and I didn’t know where else to go”
“Oh honey it’ll be okay, just relax for now, I have an extra tent if you like to settle in”
“I’d really appreciate that, thank you”
A week goes by and more people have come everytime I pray it Daryl maybe even Merle
I wake up to the sun shining through my tent, a few voices outside already stirring
“Got some fine ass around here” my heart lept, I knew that graphic voice from anywhere, I unzip the tent like a crazy woman and jump out, seeing Daryl and Merle, my knees buckle and I try to keep myself upright as his eyes lock with mine
I run to him until his big strong arms and holding me tight, see the others gather around
“You found me” I cry as he hides his face in my neck
“I found yer note, I’m sorry I took so long” he set me back down holding my face with his hands gently brushing my tears away
“I don’t care you’re here with us now”
“She’s okay?” I nod as I look over at Merle
“Don’t mess this place up Merle, it’s nice here” he scoffed
“Ya don’t get yer panties in a twist”
The group dispersed and I showed Daryl to my tent
“I was so scared D, and I never got my Chinese” I laugh trying to lighten the mood
“Don’t seem like yer gonna be getting that Chinese anytime soon sunshine”
“Well maybe I can get something else Mr.Dixon”
“Maybe ya can Mrs.Dixon”
•
It’s been a crazy month but the camp was coming together as we were becoming a small community, although Daryl and Merle stayed to themselves keeping that hard demeanor
I was helping clean some clothes with the other girls when we started chatting about our old lives
“I still can’t believe that you, the sweetest thing is with that Dixon” Lori said
“Hey he’s just reserved, trust me he treats me like a princess and I love him more every day”
“Well atleast you got someone to get some” Andrea laughs and my face goes beat red
“What you don’t think we here you darling” Jackie giggles as the other join
“Something funny ladies” Ed groans as he comes up behind us
“Nothing ed just swapping war stories” Andrea states as we all fall silent
“Got something to say?”
“How about you shut your mouths and get back to work”
I gather my clothes putting them in my basket and try to leave I can’t risk this getting out of hand with my baby
“Where do you think you’re going” he states as he grips my arm so tight I let out a whimper
“Let me go Ed” I push at him which only made him angry, he raises his hand and punches me across the face making me fall to the ground
That’s when all hell breaks out, everyone screaming trying to hold him back from me, all I do is scream at the top of my lungs
“DARYL!”
In a split second I see him running down the hills path straight to us with Merle on his tail, Merle can be a hard ass but he cared for the both of us in his own twisted way
“What the hell did ya do ta her” Daryl growls as he takes one look at me on the sand and me hold my face and back to Ed, the anger like fire in his eyes and he made his way over and took one swing and he was out cold on the ground
Merle came down to the ground checking my face, noticing the blood and the purple spreading across the left side of my face, sighing as he helped put the clothes back in the basket
Daryl now infront of me gently brushing my hair back to get a look
“How bad is it D?” I choke out a sob the pain still blooming
“Your eye……it’s blood shot, can you see me”
“It’s fine but it hurts so much”
“Come on sunshine let me get ya cleaned up” Merle took the basket following behind us as Daryl led me back up the hill
Getting to our tent I took the basket from Merle giving thanks as I got back in the tent with Daryl as he pulled out the first aid bag, he disinfected the cut and braided my hair to keep it away from my face
“Thanks for coming down like my Prince Charming”
“Always, how’s the baby?”
“She feels fine, he only got one hit before the others held him back
“I….i miss our home D, I miss you coming home and meeting you at the door, I miss you holding me from behind while I cook and bake, I miss holing up in bed during a thunderstorm while we played music faintly” I sigh laying down with my head on his legs as he ran his hand up and down my back
“I know, when ya told me you were pregnant I started thinking about how we’d make her room together, paint it purple like the cake, me and Merle would make her a crib, and then when I couldn’t find ya I felt like my whole world disappeared”
“Maybe this’ll all blow over and we can go home…….im scared Daryl, what if…what if I get bit what about the baby”
“Hey calm down I ain’t ever gonna let anything happen to ya”
•
Part 2
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When you’re ready
pairing: daryl x reader (no use of y/n)
warnings: smut, gentle daryl, not angry daryl, loss of virginity, fingering, pet names, unprotected piv, lmk if i missed any but i think thats it!
wc: 1,991
im not responsible for what you read. smut below the cut.



Daryl and you met when you stumbled upon the group at the quarry. Both of you were immediately attracted to each other, but of course the grump Daryl is, it took him a while to warm up and talk to you.
It’s about a year later, your group staying in the prison now. Daryl has warmed up to you, he is now head over heels for you. He finally showed this when your group first arrived at the prison. Not long after, the two of you started dating.
There have been many times where the two of you have gotten intimate, but you eventually told him you were a virgin. Thankfully, he understood and told you to just let him know when you are ready and he will make it special.
You’ve wanted him to take your virginity, but every time it almost happens, you chicken out from being so nervous. But tonight might be the night. You’re gonna try to not chicken out.
You and Daryl got a cell far from everyone else, but close enough to know if anything bad were to happen. It was late at night, pretty much everyone was asleep. You decided to take a much needed shower.
After you stepped out from the water, you wrapped a towel around your body and walked back to you and Daryl’s cell. It was silent, the only sound you could hear was the patter of your damp feet on the cold floor.
Daryl was still awake, you could hear the noise of him sharpening his arrows. You had found some old sheets and made a makeshift door to get some sort of privacy. You pushed aside the sheets and stepped inside, shivering a bit at the coolness of the air.
Daryl looked up at you, his eyes softening as a little smile grew on his face. “Hey sunshine” He never failed to make you blush with all his pet names. You mumbled a quiet “Hi” as you grabbed your clothes.
You had a pit in your stomach, Daryl didn’t know that tonight you wanted him to take your virginity. He had no clue. But, he could read you like a book whenever you were upset, nervous, or angry. No matter how much you lied about being fine, he always knew.
“Somethin’ wrong?” Your back was turned to him, but you could feel his eyes on you. “U-uhm.. No, im alright” You swallowed loudly. There was shuffling behind you, then the warmth of his hands around your waist. “Darlin’ we’ve gone over this many times.. I know when somethin’s wrong with ya”
You let out a sigh, turning around to face him. “I-i..” Why were you so nervous? He’s seen you naked before, touched you before, kissed every spot on your skin before, yet you were still so nervous. “I think.. I’m ready..” Daryl’s face turned serious. “Ya sure darlin?” You nodded. Daryl nodded back.
“Can we do it right now..?” You averted your gaze as a warm blush crept up to your cheeks. He hummed in response, leaving kisses all over your face. He pulled you in closer, starting to pull off the towel that was still around your body. “Is this okay?” His voice was quiet and gentle. “Yeah..” You sighed out.
Daryl nodded, taking off your towel completely. He took a step back and admired your body as if it was the first time he’s seen it. You blushed, feeling really nervous as he stared at you. “Fuck yer beautiful..” He smiled softly as his hands went back to your hips.
As you started to kiss him, your hands went down to his belt. “Can I..?” Daryl nodded in approval, letting you unbuckle his belt. Then you popped the button on his jeans, pulling the zipper down as well. Your hand lightly grazed the tent in his pants. He let out a quiet grunt and started kissing on your neck.
You pulled his pants down, letting him step out of them. He was in his boxers and shirt now. You tugged slightly at the bottom of his shirt, wanting him to take it off. Daryl got the hint and moved away from your neck, pulling his shirt off of him and throwing it somewhere in the cell.
Instead of going back to your neck, Daryl took you into a deep, passionate kiss. He held onto you as the two of you slowly backed up to the bed. Once the bed hit the back of your legs, you laid down as he followed you on top, his arms next to your body holding himself up.
He continued to kiss you, pushing the warmth of his tongue into your mouth. You whimpered softly as you two played with each other’s tongues. One of his hands crept down your body, shivering under his touch.
He let a finger slowly graze over your cunt as you broke the kiss with a moan. “Daryl..” Your voice sounding so needy. You weren’t gonna chicken out this time, you were too caught up in the moment to be nervous right now.
One of his thick fingers slipped into your aching pussy, all the way to the knuckle. You whimpered at the feeling, arching your back a little. As you grabbed onto his shoulders, he slid another finger in.
Daryl started to move his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace as you looked at him with lust in your eyes, your eyelids beginning to feel heavy. “‘M stretchin ya out.. preparin ya for my cock..” He whispered into your ear, sending chills throughout your whole body.
You started to buck your hips slightly as his fingers went at a faster pace. “Daryl.. fuck.. im close…” He looked up at you with a smirk on his face. “Already? We barely jus started” You whined at his teasing.
You loved when he teased you though during moments like this. Although you two have never had sex, you’ve given plenty of blowjobs to him. He ate you out and fingered you plenty of times too.
His fingers curled up, going faster as you moaned louder. A hand slapped across your mouth. “Ya gotta be quieter… Don’t want anyone hearin ya.. savin’ ya from the embarrassment alright?” You nodded, thinking about what everyone would say if they did hear you.
His fingers still curled and thrusted at a fast pace as your body trembled, coming all over his fingers. It was crazy how much he could do to you without even fucking you.
You took him in a deep kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Please… i’m ready… please Daryl..” He smirked at your neediness. This always turned him on, hearing you begging for him to touch you.
Daryl pulled off his boxers, chucking them over his shoulders. You shuddered when you felt his tip sliding across your folds. He grabbed his cock, lining it up with your entrance.
“If it starts hurtin or ya wanna stop, you say somethin’ alright?” You nodded as he kissed your neck. Then, you whimpered as you felt the burning sensation as the tip of his cock pushed into you.
The pain wasn’t terrible though, so you told him to keep going. As he was almost halfway, you grabbed his arms letting out a whimper of pain and pleasure. “I-it’s too much baby..” He peppered your face in soft kisses. “It’s alright sunshine, once I start movin’ the pain will be gone. You can do this” His little appraisal made warmth cover your face.
“Okay..” You sighed out, letting him push more into you. Once he bottomed out, he stayed still to let you adjust. He looked down at you, your back arched with your mouth open. “You okay darlin’” You nodded as you fluttered your eyes open.
“Y-yea.. it just hurts a little still…” Daryl nodded and planted a soft kiss on your forehead. After a moment, you felt alright and told him to start moving. He slowly pulled out, thrusting back inside as gentle as he could.
He leaned down, kissing your neck softly as you wrapped your arms around him trying to pull him as close as possible to you. “Oh god.. Daryl…” Your legs wrapped around his waist, his thrusts speeding up a little.
The whimpers coming out of your mouth into his ear made him wanna cum right then and there. Daryl let out quiet grunts as he thrusted in and out of you, hitting your cervix every time. “Fuck yer so tight..” He groaned into your ear, making you shiver. “You like it? You like me fuckin’ yer little virgin pussy?”
The dirty talk made you moan, arousing you more if that was even possible. “Yeah.. shit.. yeah baby..” A warm feeling started to take over your stomach. Your back arched as you grabbed fistfuls of the bed sheets beneath your bodies. “Faster please.. mhpm.. im so close Daryl..” Although you never called him something like ‘Daddy’, hearing you whimper his name was just as good. The name coming out of your mouth in such a whiny, needy tone.
Daryl pushed his weight into his arms as he held himself up more to look down at you. He thrusted into you faster, the sound of skin slapping becoming louder. He threw his head back letting out grunts as you let out moans, trying to be as quiet as possible.
“Shit darlin’.. ‘m so close.. fuck, you gonna cum all over this cock? Hm?” Your orgasm washed over you, nodding at his question letting out whimpers and moans. He fucked you so fast, the bed began squeaking underneath you two. Your nails dug into his arms as you arched your back, coming all over his cock as your body shook.
He groaned, his thrusts getting more sloppy and inconsistent. He hit your g-spot over and over, causing you to whine and whimper at the overstimulation. Daryl put his hand over your mouth as you became louder, but the moans quieted down once you moaned into his hand.
He fucked you insanely fast as you trembled under him. Daryl pulled out of you, coming all over your abdomen. “Hngh.. Shitshitshit.. Holy fucking shit darlin’..” He rested on his heels as the sound of both of you panting took over the room.
As you sat up, you looked down between your legs and saw a little bit of red, panic rising in your stomach. “Am I bleeding? Daryl why am I bleeding?” He looked into your eyes, sensing the panic as he cupped your face leaving gentle kisses everywhere.
“Darlin’ it’s okay its normal.. Nothin’s wrong it jus’ happens when ya lose yer virginity” Tears were filling your eyes, nodding as you listened to him. His hand wiped under your eyes and he held you close. “Let’s get ya cleaned up, alright?”
Daryl got up and grabbed the towel you had used, wiping it over your abdomen and between your legs. You shuddered as your cunt was still sensitive. He grabbed your panties and helped you put them on, putting his boxers on himself afterwards.
He laid down next to you, pulling the blanket over the two of you as you looked him in the eyes with adoration. “Ya okay?” A small, sleepy smile crept upon your face. “Yeah..” You sighed out. “Thank you Daryl.. I love you”
Daryl pulled you close to him, you nuzzling into his chest. “I love ya too darlin’” His warm hands rubbed against your back as you started to slip off into sleep. “Go to sleep baby” He whispered into your head as he placed a kiss upon it.
You let out a soft hum, already halfway asleep. Daryl held you close as you fell asleep, chin resting on your head. Soon after, he fell asleep as well. This was just the beginning of his dick destroying you. He had much more in him than you witnessed tonight.
divider credits: @cafekitsune
please don’t steal my work!!!!!!
i hope u guys enjoyed this i just made this up on the spot. please please please send me requests!!!!!!!!! im in writers block and it would really be helpful if i received some requests. ill do fics for negan, rick, daryl, and joel miller from tlou :))
#twd fanfiction#twd smut#fanfic#rick grimes#smut#the walking dead#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#rick grimes smut#negan smith#twd#twd daryl#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixion imagine#daryl fanfiction#fanfiction#daryl smut
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When Daryl Dixon first lays his eyes on you at the quarry, he doesn't quite know what to do with himself. He sees you, all flustered and a little scared, having tumbled from the forest straight into their camp, and everything around him just goes silent.
He's never felt like this before, never felt the strange warmth begining to spread from his stomach up through his chest until time itself slows down when he looks you dead in the eyes. His surroundings fade into a blur of colours and all he can focus on is you. He's beginning to wonder if he accidentally inhaled some of that stuff Merle was sniffing a few hours back.
"Yeah,tha's it." He thougt. 'S jus' a lil drugs 's all."
As the day goes by, he has this need to talk to you but he just can't seem to find the courage. So, he just sits outside his tent, watching the other girls around the camp all fawn over how pretty you are, and he can't help but think the same.
"She is kinda cute." He thought to himself. "Whatcha talkin' bout baby brother?" Merle asked from behind him, startling Daryl a bit. "Nothin', 'sides, ain't yer damn business wha' the hell 'm thinkin' bout anyway." Daryl said gruffly to his older brother,cheeks a dusty pink. Guess he was thinking a little too hard.
That night,as everyone is gathered around the fireplace eating canned soups, Daryl sits next to you, and the entire group is stunned. Ever since Daryl came to the group at around the first week of the apocalypse, he has preferred to eat in his tent, leaving everyone else to worry about his brother.
You stayed there long after the last person went to bed with Daryl by your side, growing ever curious about you. Because in the time you had been at the camp, you hadn't said a word. He looked at you, but when you sighed he looked away, wondering if you had silently caught him for staring, then he blushes with embarrassment knowing himself that he was starting at you. "You just gonna sit there and stare at me till I go to bed or are you gonna tell me your name?"
Daryl whipped he head around to look at you. And to his utter surprise, you were looking him dead in the eyes, smirking up at him. "Y-you talkin' to me?" He asked incredulously. "No, I'm talking to him over there." You said, pointing behind Daryl. He turned his head to see where you were pointing, to see not a soul standing there. When you started laughing, he turned his attention back to you, the melodic sound soothing his ears. "Of course I'm talking to you, silly. There's nobody else up." You laughed, but there was nothing malicious behind it, so Daryl found himself chuckling a bit.
"Daryl." He said gruffly, looking at you and admiring your beautiful features. "My name's Daryl. What about you?" He asked, hoping he hadn't overstepped any boundaries. "My name is y/n, pleased to meet you." You held out your hand for him to shake, and he was a bit taken back by your straightforwardness. He clasped his hand in yours and shook it, blushing slightly at the difference in size.
When the quarry got overrun and the group headed to the farm, Daryl made sure that you were by his side the whole way. He made sure to take you hunting with him, and when he went looking for Sofia, you insisted that you accompany him. And when Andrea accidentally shot him, he was looking up from being helped inside to see you marching towards her, landing a punch on her face, and he couldn't help but be proud of you.
Then the farm got overrun by walkers and you were both separated. Daryl was distraught, thinking you had been bitten or killed. But, when Rick, Carl, Hershel and himself got reunited with Maggie, Beth and you, he had to hold back tears as he ran to you, swiftly sweeping you off your feet in a massive bear hug. He repeatedly asked you if you were okay and if you had any injuries, and it made you giggle slightly at his protectiveness. The time that Lori was pregnant leading up to the prison was hard for the whole group, but having you by his side 24/7 made Daryl feel slightly at ease.
When you lot found the prison, he made sure to keep you near him even more. You both shared a cell, him on the top bunk and you on the bottom. You both grew closer to one another the more time you spent together. One time, Daryl managed to find a bottle of whiskey and you both downed it in one night, telling eachother stories about your lives before the fall. In the morning, Daryl woke up to you still soundly asleep on his chest. He blushed and frantically thought of a way to get you off him whilst keeping you asleep, but he eventually just went back to sleep himself, being too comfortable to move.
After the prison fell, you were with Daryl the whole time along with Beth. You three found the cabin with the moonshine and decided to drink some. Two or three glasses each later, Beth fell asleep, her body curled up beside you as you and Daryl continued to talk until you felt sleepy. Daryl came and sat next to you so you could lay your head on his shoulder, him falling asleep not long after.
When the group found terminus, you were taken into the slaughter house along with Daryl, Rick, Glenn and the other men that had been kidnapped. Daryl was more concerned for you, having been the one to barge one of the men who was going to slit your throat off you before he had the chance. You all made it out alive and Daryl held your hand and refused to let go.
The group eventually found Alexandria, having a safe place to finally call home, Daryl finally confessed his feelings for you while you were in a meadow close by. He picked you a daisy and put it in your hair, a sweet gesture that made you giggle, and it sort of just slipped out.
"I really like ya," he said, his cheeks going a pinky red colour after he realised what he said. "Really?" You asked, sweeping some of his hair out of his eyes. "Y-yeah, yeah I do. In fact, I don' jus' like ya, I love ya. I love ya so much, darlin', ya have no idea." You smiled and leaned in, your noses touching as you could feel his hot breath fanning over your lips. "I love you too Daryl, more than you'll ever know." You then punctuated your sentence with a kiss.
A few months later you were married (yes, married), and a few months after that you were carrying his child. Then there was another child. And another. Soon, you and Daryl had the perfect life, a lovely home, three beautiful children and a dog.
( And a cat that Daryl would always say he hated. "Told ya woman, I ain't a fanna cats." But would later be found snuggled with his three kids on the couch in the living room after dinner with said cat on his chest. )
#daryl just give me a reason dixon#twd daryl#daryl dixon#daryl x reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl x female reader#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine
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The Archer’s Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the world ended, you and Daryl narrowly escaped the clutches of the dead and found yourselves in a quarry camp with Merle and some other people. Unwanted, someone in the camp took a weird liking and disliking to you, and it made you extremely uncomfortable. Luckily, Daryl was there to stand up for you.
Genre: Fluff, some angst.
Era: Outbreak day; The Quarry.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU but can be read as a standalone.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of morning sickness.
Word count: 4.4k.
A/N: Damn, I love when two requests correspond with each other and I can get them both into one fic. It’s my favourite thing in the whole world. I feel like Daryl is kinda ooc in this, but I tried to imagine how he’d be with a woman he just met at the quarry and started forming a relationship with vs how he’d be with someone he’s been with since he was a teenager, and in my mind, he’d totally be softer regarding someone he already knows and loves vs one he’s just started getting to know. So soft!Daryl in this, it is! Anyways, I hope you like this!
Barely one minute prior, you had strayed from Daryl’s side to go grab some milk. You had told him that you would be right back, but with all the chaos that had suddenly unfolded in front of you, you highly regretted leaving him at all. With everything going to hell, you could be separated from the man you loved. That thought terrified you.
“Daryl!” you called out, attempting to push past the stampede of people trying to hurriedly evacuate the store you were in. You were abruptly shoved into one of the shelves, a sharp pain shooting up into your ribs. A loud curse escaped your lips as you clutched your side.
However, as you turned around, nothing terrified you more than the sight that beheld you.
On the floor, a woman was screaming in pure, unadulterated agony. On top of her was a man whose body appeared to be decaying, and he ripped a huge chunk of her flesh from her chest. His grimy hands were clawing at her stomach, and with little to no effort, he tore her stomach open. The sight was truly mortifying, and it would never be erased from your mind.
A hand grabbed your wrist from behind. You flinched and tried to rip your hand from the person’s grip, but the familiar voice of your husband calmed you down. However, when you looked at him, you were surprised to note the splatter of dark blood all over his clothes and face.
“S’me! S’jus’ me!” he hurriedly explained. He cast one glance to the horrific sight in front of you before dragging you along with him, the two of you moving quickly. He stopped momentarily in front of one of the shelves to grab two knives, carefully pushing one of them into your hold. “Ya see one’a these dead motherfuckers, ya stab ‘em in the head, alright? S’the only way they drop dead.”
“What? I don’t—”
“Dun’ think ‘bout it, Peach!” he cut you off, pulling you with him out of the store again. “They ain’t alive. The news weren’t lyin’ to us ‘bout the dead risin’. We got a real fuckin’ problem on our hands now.”
Choosing to trust his judgement, you nodded and hurried next to him. The two of you ran down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of your apartment. As you continued onward, you highly regretted deciding to walk to the store instead of taking Daryl’s truck. It would have been a whole lot easier to escape the mess surrounding you if you had a vehicle.
Just as the two of you arrived at your apartment building, about a dozen of the undead people were stumbling out of the door. Daryl quickly pulled you with him to the parking area instead, making a beeline for his truck. However, more of those things flooded the area and a couple of them were heading straight towards you, and it was clear that the two of you weren’t escaping without a fight.
“Ya got yer knife?” Daryl questioned, shooting a glance at you over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” you told him, gripping the knife so tightly your knuckles started turning white.
“Good,” he replied, stepping forward to plunge his knife into the skull of one of the monsters. He withdrew the knife, holding it ready to use at a moment’s notice. “Ya gotta stab ‘em in the head as hard as ya can, alright? Dun’ think ‘bout ‘em bein’ alive. These assholes ain‘t livin’ no more.”
“Don’t worry about me trying to talk them out of eating me or something,” you scoffed, replicating the way he was holding his knife with your own. “I’m not that stupid. All these fuckers are getting from me is a fatal blow to the head. They’re not touching me.”
“That’s my girl,” he praised you with a small smile. However, his attention soon got diverted back towards the flood of the undead stumbling around in the parking area.
As the two of you continued onwards, Daryl repeatedly stabbed the heads of the monsters. By some miracle, the two of you made it to his truck without you having to do anything. However, just as Daryl was getting into the driver’s seat and you were opening the door to the passenger seat, a slimy, blood-covered hand gripped your arm tightly in its clutches.
You let out a small cry of terror, instantly alerting Daryl to your horrifying predicament. However, as you struggled against the literal death grip of the monster, its teeth trying desperately to take a chunk of your flesh, you realized that you couldn’t wait for Daryl to come to your rescue. By the time he would have managed to make it towards the other side of the truck, you would already be doomed. You had to take matters into your own hands.
Shakily, you drew your hand that held the knife back and plunged it deep into the thing’s skull with a sickening force. The monster miraculously fell limp with the first blow, its hand falling from your arm. However, before you could fully process that you had just killed something that was once human, Daryl took your face in his hands and checked you over, his eyes filled with fear. You had never seen him with as much terror in his eyes ever before.
“Are ya okay?” he asked in a hurried manner, his voice shaky as his blue eyes searched your body for any signs of hurt or discomfort. “Please tell me the prick didn’t get ya. No bites, no scratches, nothin’.”
“I’m okay,” you assured him, watching him calm down somewhat. “But we have to leave. Right now.”
“Yeah, let’s g—”
The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the area, followed closely by the rumble of a motorcycle. When the motorcycle came into view, you were both simultaneously relieved and disappointed to see none other than Merle Dixon. He stopped his motorcycle once he saw you, an exasperated look on his face.
“Y’all jus’ gon’ stand there and get eaten or get in the fuckin’ truck? I did not risk my life gettin’ here jus’ to watch y’all become a mid-day snack.”
Daryl opened the door to the passenger side and quickly ushered you in, shouting over his shoulder at Merle. “What the fuck are ya even doin’ here?!”
“Helpin’ yer sorry ass!” Merle exclaimed, shooting at another oncoming monster. “C’mon, let’s go!”
Daryl did not need to be told twice. He rushed to the driver’s side and hurriedly got in, starting up his truck and speeding out of the parking area, following behind Merle’s motorcycle. With all the chaos that had unfolded, the two of you hadn’t even managed to go grab some clothes from your apartment. However, by some stroke of luck, as you glanced towards the back of the truck, you noted that two duffel bags were resting there, as well as a bag with everything needed to construct a tent, as well as Daryl’s crossbow. You thanked your lucky stars that the two of you had gone camping for his hunting trip two days prior, and forgot to remove everything from his truck. The clothes were dirty, sure, but once you found a body of water, you’d be able to wash them. And Daryl’s crossbow would more than likely come in handy.
“Are ya okay?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was nervously chewing on his thumbnail, his eyes darting between you and the road.
You nodded at him, trying to calm your racing thoughts. In a matter of thirty minutes, your life had flipped upside down. You had killed someone, whether they were dead or not. The blood from the kill coated your skin and made you feel sick at your actions, but you tried to remind yourself that the thing you killed was not human anymore. If you didn’t kill it, it would’ve killed you. It would’ve killed—
Gasping, you sat upright and clutched at your stomach. Daryl looked at you worriedly, his eyes trailing to your stomach. His eyes widened in terror, his grip on the steering wheel tightening even more, if that was even possible.
“What’s wrong?” he questioned in alarm. “Oh, god. S’somethin’ wrong with Peanut? Did those pricks—”
“No! No, nothing’s wrong,” you reassured him, your hand resting on your stomach. “It’s just... With everything going on, I forgot about the baby. I forgot about my own child, Daryl. What kind of future mother does that make me?”
Daryl moved one of his hands to rest on your thigh, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the fabric of your jeans. He sent you a small smile, hoping to bring you some comfort.
“S’okay,” he told you. “Yer not gon’ be a bad mom. With everythin’ goin’ on, yer body went into fight or flight mode. S’cause of it that ya managed to keep the baby in yer belly safe. And once they’re here, I know yer gon’ do yer absolute best to protect ‘em. They’ve got the best damn mama ever.”
One month had passed. One month since the dead had started walking. One month since everything you knew had gotten destroyed. One month since you had stumbled upon a quarry camp filled with other survivors with your husband and brother-in-law. One month since your life had been turned upside down.
“I hope so,” you mumbled, resting your hand that wasn’t on your stomach over his hand that rested on your thigh. “I really hope so.”
You sighed as you washed one of Daryl’s jeans, subtly listening to the other women making conversation, the women sitting quite a distance from you. Most of the ladies in the small camp you were in tended to keep their distance from you, deeming you damaged goods due to the people you were with. Well, more so because Merle was your brother in law. You and Daryl tended to keep to yourselves, with Daryl only speaking to others when absolutely necessary, but the same couldn’t be said for his hotheaded older brother. Merle had made quite the first impression on your fellow survivors, and not a good one. And automatically, by mere association, they had deemed you and Daryl the same. Most of the women simply referred to you as the archer’s girl, and you were pretty sure they didn’t even know your actual name.
Most of the women didn’t even bother acknowledging your existence most of the time. The only exception was a sweet woman named Carol Peletier, who offered you her kindness whenever she saw or spoke to you. She offered you advice on how to properly scrub stains from jeans, on how to fix up the holes in your husband’s socks, and so much more than that as well. She was the only one who you had felt comfortable enough sharing the secret of your pregnancy with, and even though she promised not to tell anyone, she silently offered you her support, and gave you advice regarding your pregnancy by telling you stories about her own pregnancy with little Sophia. Carol was your only true friend there, and you appreciated her on a profound level.
Without her, you probably would have snapped at the other women there for the judgemental looks they threw your way, so you deeply cherished the friendship you had formed with her.
The touch of a calloused yet gentle hand drew you from your thoughts. You looked up and locked eyes with your husband, his blue eyes staring down at you with a softness reserved only for you. You sent him a smile and dropped the pair of jeans you were washing on the ground, standing up to face him better.
“Ya know all’a that washin’ s’now ruined ‘cause ya dropped it in the mud, right?” he told you playfully, sending you a small smile.
You smiled and shrugged. “It’s your jeans. I’ve never heard you complain about a little mud on them before, considering those kills you have to skin that stained these jeans in the first place.”
Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, yer right,” he replied, before his smile fell and he adapted a more serious tone. “I have to go huntin’.”
“Again?” you asked incredulously, your mood visibly deflating. “You went on a hunt not even two days ago.”
“Yeah, I know,” Daryl said with a heavy sigh, fidgeting with his hands. “But that Shane prick demanded that I go on another hunt again for some reason. I dun’ know why, ‘cause we have enough meat to last us another week or so, but he threatened to throw us out’a the camp if I didn’t go now. We can’t leave. ‘Specially not now.”
Your lips formed into a small smile as Daryl’s eyes trailed down to your stomach, his eyes softening slightly as he thought about the life that fluttered there beyond the skin, the life that he had helped create. His very own son or daughter. A small being that he would go to great lengths to protect, even if they weren’t born yet. His little Peanut.
You stepped forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek, before withdrawing again. You giggled at the blush that spread across his face, and you did not miss the way his lips twitched up into a small smile. He could say whatever he wanted, but he secretly loved your little public displays of affection. It was never something big, like some passionate kiss or a full-blown make out session or something along those lines. It was always something small and sweet, something quick to show your affection without drawing too much attention to the two of you. A subtle graze of your hand against his, quick pecks on the cheek, a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, you name it. You knew how to show him love in public without making him uncomfortable, and he loved you for it.
“How long will you be gone?” you asked, nervously fidgeting with your fingers.
Daryl noticed and subtly took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “Ain’t no tellin’. Walsh demanded that I find some venison, and that might take me a while. Dun’ even know if there are any deer here.”
You pursed your lips and nodded. “Stay safe, okay? I love you.”
Daryl nodded. Stepping out of his own comfort zone, he leaned down and pressed a feathery light kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he gently caressed your cheek. “Always am. And I love ya more, Sweetheart.”
With that, he turned around and left, leaving you standing alone with the unfinished laundry. Watching his retreating figure, you smiled fondly, completely missing the envious looks the other women were sending your way.
They had not heard your conversation, the two of you being too far away to overhear anything, but they did see the way the archer interacted with you. It was so vastly different from the way he talked to anyone, including his own brother, his own flesh and blood. It was clear there was a lot of history between the two of you, good and bad, and it made the two of you a strong couple. From what Merle had let slip in his high state once, the two of you had been together since you were both merely seventeen years old, and by the looks of it, the two of you were still going strong. The two of you radiated love for one another, and that’s more than most could say about their own past relationships.
Three days had passed. Three days where Daryl was nowhere to be found. Three days where you had to deal with Merle’s disgusting attitude on your own. Three days where you had to sleep alone in your shared tent, wishing, praying that he was there beside you.
It was clear the two of you shared something special, a deep, profound bond that went beyond what the naked eye could see, and it felt unfair to them that they couldn’t find love like that. And with the world at its end, they doubted that they ever would be able to.
It seemed like Baby Dixon noticed their father’s absence, and they weren’t a fan of it. For the past three days, you had not managed to keep anything down in the depths of your stomach. Any and all food you ate came right back up again within a few hours, and it was not exactly pleasant. Thankfully, nobody saw you whenever you rushed to the bushes behind the RV to spew out the contents of your stomach, so nobody knew of your pregnancy just yet.
And you had Carol by your side whenever your stomach rebelled against you, so that was a major plus for you.
“God, I hate this so much,” you groaned in frustration, eliciting a laugh from the woman gently rubbing your back.
“It’s what comes with the joys of pregnancy,” she laughed lightly, continuing the circular motion on your back until you felt better. Once you stood upright, she handed you a bottle of water, encouraging you to drink as much as you needed to. “Drink up. You need to stay hydrated.”
Once you had enough to drink, you handed her the bottle again. “Thank you,” you thanked her, giving her a small smile. “How’d you handle it? The morning sickness, I mean.”
“I was lucky enough to only experience a mild case of morning sickness,” Carol explained, wrapping her arm around you and starting to walk with you back to the main campsite. “You know, and I’m not saying this to pressure you at all, but maybe you should tell everyone about your pregnancy. It would be good for Glenn to be on the lookout for prenatal vitamins.”
“I can’t,” you denied instantaneously. “Then everyone will look at me like I’m carrying the black plague and see me as just another liability. I can’t have that. Daryl and I can handle things on our own until we absolutely have to tell everyone.”
“Okay,” Carol replied, before shifting the conversation away from something that quite obviously stressed you out, and she knew that stress was not good for the baby. “I drank a lot of herbal teas when I was pregnant. That seemed to really work for the nausea.”
“Just great,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Where the fuck are we supposed to find that?”
Carol smiled and gently rubbed your shoulder. “I’ll see if Dale has some. I remember him mentioning something about ginger tea.”
“What if he asks why you need it?” you asked hurriedly with worry evident in your tone.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” she reassured you. “I’ll just tell him I’m feeling nauseous. That something I ate isn’t corresponding with my stomach. Trust me, he’ll believe it.”
You sent her a smile. “Thanks, Carol. I mean it.”
She smiled at you before disappearing into the RV, on a search for Dale. You stood waiting outside, staring ahead at the treeline. You hoped that by continuously looking at it, your husband would appear from the trees with a deer over his shoulders, dirty but unharmed. Alas, as you had learned over the last few days that has passed, that did not work, and you wished you could go out there and look for him yourself, but you knew he’d be beyond mad if you did.
No, your main priority was your baby at that moment. Your husband had shown time and time again that he could take care of himself, so you chose to believe that he would be fine. You had to believe that, otherwise you would spiral into an abyss you did not want to go down.
The feeling of somebody standing next to you startled you. You stumbled and nearly fell, but the hands of the mystery person caught you. Looking up, you locked eyes with the self-appointed leader of the group, Shane Walsh. His brown eyes were staring down at you, a small grin on his face.
“Sorry, girl. Didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized, slightly rubbing your arms.
“What’s your story, lady?” he asked curiosly, leaning back against the metal of the RV, his eyes trailing over you in a way you did not like.
Feeling extremely uncomfortable, you shrugged his hands from your arms and took a step back, putting some distance between the two of you. You sent him a tight-lipped smile. “It’s okay,” you replied, hoping that he would end the conversation with that. However, the man had other plans.
“My story?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “What’s a pretty girl like yourself doing with a low life nothing like Daryl Dixon? I mean, you could have anyone you want, but you chose him, the good-for-nothing redneck. Why?”
“Because I love him,” you stated matter-of-factly, sending him a harsh glare that only seemed to spur him on even more.
“Bullshit. There’s gotta be something to it,” he disagreed, chuckling at the glare on your face. “There’s no way that a guy like that managed to pull someone like you. It goes against all the laws of the universe. So tell me, what’s he got to offer? Is he paying you? Are you some prostitute he keeps around for his own pleasure or something? You certainly look pretty enough to have a guy pay you for something like that.”
Before you could stutter out an angry reply to Shane’s deeply offensive, deprecating accusation, a hand gently gripped your shoulder and pulled you aside. Looking up, you saw Daryl, an angry look in his eyes. Without a word, he stepped forward and viciously connected his fist with Shane’s nose, hearing the satisfying crack of the bone there.
“Son of a bitch!” Shane exclaimed, bending over to clutch his nose in his hands. “What the fuck, Dixon?!”
Daryl gripped Shane by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the side of the RV, a threatening glare on his face. Terror filled Shane’s eyes, something unusual for the for the former sherrif’s deputy. Everyone started gathering around the fighting pair, and Carol, who had rushed from the RV once she had heard the commotion, pulled you back from the battle ground, holding you firmly against her side.
“Listen’a me real fuckin’ close, Walsh,” Daryl spat angrily, his voice dangerously low. “I dun’ care what ya say ‘bout me, but if ya ever talk ‘bout my pregnant wife like that again, I’ll do so much worse than jus’ break yer nose. Ya dun’ talk to her, ya dun’ look at her, ya dun’ even breathe the same fuckin’ air as her. If ya do, I’ll skin ya alive and feed the remainin’ pieces of ya to the walkers. Do I make myself clear?”
“Fuck you,” Shane groaned out.
“Yer venison’s on the table. Next time, go hunt for it yer fuckin’ self.”
Without waiting for a response, Daryl shoved Shane harshly and turned around, meeting your eyes. Instead of finding fear in your eyes from his actions, he found adoration instead. You stepped out of Carol’s hold and took Daryl’s hand in your own, dragging him to your shared tent. You didn’t even spare a glance at the people, so you missed the way all of their eyes widened at the realization that you were pregnant, that they had been unnecessarily rude to a pregnant lady that had done absolutely nothing wrong to them. They had been harsh to an expecting mother and father, and for no reason at all. Everyone felt guilty, but the groan that Shane emitted caught their attention once again.
“I’m not mad, you know,” you finally broke the silence, watching the way his ocean-coloured eyes flickered over to you, the confusion evident in them. “Shane got what he deserved. Quite honestly, I planned on punching him, too. You just beat me to it.”
Back in your shared tent with Daryl, you were stood busy, gently cleaning the blood from his split knuckles whilst the man sat on the cot. Daryl was avoiding your eyes, feeling ashamed of his actions. In all the years that you had been together, you had only seen him lash out like that once—one time when you were drinking together in a bar when you were twenty-four, a guy had grabbed your breast without your consent, and Daryl had completely lost it. After that, he swore he would never act like that around you ever again, but Shane had made him break that promise.
“M’sorry,” Daryl mumbled, ducking his gaze to the floor. “I know ya can fight yer own battles. S’jus’... Hearin’ the way he talked ‘bout ya, like ya were some object whose worth he could judge... I dun’ know. It made me pissed. Ya dun’ deserve to be treated like that, ‘specially not when yer carryin’ a baby in yer belly.” He sighed and placed his good hand on your stomach. “Speakin’ of, m’sorry I revealed that yer pregnant. I know ya wanted to keep that hidden for as long as possible.”
You smiled and gently lifted his chin with your finger, gazing deeply into his eyes. “It’s okay. They would’ve found out eventually,” you told him, gently cupping his cheek. “Look at you, always so considerate about everyone else except yourself. You’re amazing, Daryl Dixon.”
Daryl blushed. “Yer the amazin’ one,” he countered, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your stomach. He placed a small kiss to the clothed skin. “Peanut’s gon’ have one hell of a mama.”
“And one hell of a daddy,” you replied, bringing one of your hands to thread through his hair. “I love you, Daryl.”
“Love ya more, Peach,” Daryl murmured, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling, his head still resting against your stomach. “Love ya too, Peanut,” he whispered to your belly, and it made you smile.
The serene moment was soon interrupted. The soft calling from Carol grabbed your attention, and you giggled at the groan Daryl let out.
“Y/N?” she called out. “I’ve got that ginger tea I promised you.”
“Ginger tea?” Daryl questioned, looking up at you.
“Yeah. I got a bunch of morning sickness without you around for some reason. It seems like Baby Dixon doesn’t like it when their daddy’s not here.”
“Good,” Daryl chuckled, rubbing your stomach affectionately. “Then I guess ya won’t mind if I stick ‘round.”
“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think about it before letting out a light giggle. “I guess I’ll keep you around.”
“That’s real good to hear.”
Before you could respond, you heard the bellowing voice of your brother-in-law. You groaned in frustration, praying that Carol had gotten out of the line of fire, because your tent was about to become a war ground.
“When the fuck were ya plannin’ on tellin’ me ya got that lil’ whore’a yers pregnant?”
Daryl visibly tensed up at his brother’s words, anger flaring up in his eyes, and you knew that another beating was about to commence. “The fuck did ya jus’ say, Merle?!”
“Ya heard me, boy.”
God, you hated Merle with a fiery passion, and you doubted that it would ever change. But you loved Daryl, and you knew that as long as you had him by your side, you could face anything.
Yeah, your little Peanut was gonna have the best father ever.
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
#krys writes .ೃ࿐#shopping spree hangout dreams#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl x reader#twd daryl#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#daryl fanfiction#daryl#twd daryl x reader#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#the walking dead#norman reedus#norman reedus x reader#norman reedus x you
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idk guys somethin about quarry daryl all sassy and mean really gets me goin thinkin about him only being gentle and sweet with me and being quick to snap at anyone who back talks me or gives me shit
#this is what I get for watching s1 too much#the walking dead#daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl#the walking dead daryl#daryl x reader#daryl twd#daryl fanfiction#daryl one shot#daryl dixion imagine#Daryl Dixon season 1#quarry daryl
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Begin Again
Rick Grimes x Female!Reader
Rating: M (Mature- As always- MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)
Warnings: Angst, canon level violence, cursing, yearning
Word count: Almost 4k
Synopsis: You have feelings for Rick that you're convinced are unrequited and it's made you irritable with your group. But what if you were wrong?
Author’s note: This is set sometime after the jail but sometime before Alexandria, but I took liberties with the timeline as well. I hope you enjoy!
P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Main Masterlist
“I need five minutes away from you and your incessant talkin’,” you grumbled as you sheathed your hatchet and walked away from Eugene.
Of course it was your luck you got paired with the rambling coward in the group’s efforts to clear out the building for a safe place to sleep for the night.
“Wait! But I-”
“Don’t wanna hear it,” you snapped as you walked away. You’d already cleared out your designated area and the others would finish soon, you weren’t leaving Eugene in any danger. You just needed some air.
It wasn’t his fault you were so irritable. It was your own fault for developing unrequited feelings for the leader of your group and then getting your feelings hurt every time he showed zero interest towards you.
You walked out the back of the abandoned warehouse and sat on the steps right outside the door. You took deep breaths as you looked up at the stars.
It was ridiculous and embarrassing, you knew that. There were far more important things to worry about, to get worked up over- like surviving each day. Killing walkers and any who threatened your group- that was essential, not your stupid crush.
And Rick, he had so many responsibilities on him- two children (one of whom is a baby), the safety and wellbeing of the entire group (which had been particularly difficult lately), and constant pressure to make life or death decisions (you had admit, he was pretty good at that). You couldn’t, and shouldn’t expect him to notice you or care about your emotions beyond the others in the group.
But, God - you wish he would. You wish he wanted to be around you. You wished he trusted your capabilities more. But no, he never wanted you right by his side in dangerous situations. That honor was always given to Daryl, or Glen, or Michonne. People he had more trust in.
You’d been there since the beginning- since the quarry camp and you’d come a long way in terms of fighting, just like so many others. But it seemed like all Rick saw was the scared young woman he’d first met.
He always grouped you with others in the group he also didn’t trust as much- like Eugene or Gabriel. It was infuriating.
You also knew that Rick was a man of few words, but you couldn't help but notice that he had even less to say to you than others he was closer with. Despite the fact that you volunteered to help take care of Judith more than anyone else in the group.
Your feelings for Rick- of affection, of love, of lust, were turning sour and rotten inside of you and twisting into something closer to jealousy and resentment.
Getting worked up was pointless, Rick would never look at you the way you look at him you realized as you wiped the tears from your eyes and took deep breaths.
But maybe a few extra minutes alone wouldn't hurt.
You leaned against the handrail on the side of the stairs and tried to think about anything but Rick. The gorgeous curls of his grey streaked hair, his beard that looked way too good even when coated in blood, his intense blue eyes, the low timbre of his voice, his protectiveness for those he cares about…
You hadn’t even realized you drifted off to sleep until the sound of growling and snarling woke you. The hatchet was in your hand immediately as you jumped up and took a defensive stance. Four walkers were close, one of which nearly grabbed you, but you side stepped it and buried your hatchet in its forehead.
Its dead weight pitched forward, it was a man twice your size, and landed on top of you.
“Shit!” you yelled as your head hit the concrete and your vision went momentarily fuzzy. You held tight to your hatchet and swung it with a groan as another walker launched itself and landed on top of the dead one on top of you.
You heard a deep voice yell your name.
“Here!” you gasped out as blood sprayed in your face as the second walker died- its dead weight crushed the air out of your lungs. Two more were reaching for you but they couldn’t quite reach you and you couldn’t quite reach them.
You heard the disgusting sound of a blade slicing into the brains of the walkers before the bodies of the others were hauled off you.
“Thanks.”
You took gasping breaths as you sat up and your eyes met Rick’s blazing blue gaze.
“Are you alright?” he asked- concern evident in his voice and in the tension of his body as he knelt beside you.
He placed his large hand on your shoulder and you looked up at him in surprise.
“Just peachy,” you replied, “not a bite or a scratch on me, I promise.”
He hung his head in relief as he let out a deep breath and his fingers tightened slightly on your shoulder.
“What the hell were you thinkin’ bein’ out here alone?” he hissed through gritted teeth.
You sighed deeply.
“I didn’t mean to doze off. You stuck me with Eugene again and I needed some alone time,” you grumbled.
He let out a huff of what might’ve been a laugh as he placed a finger on your chin and tilted it upwards so you would meet his eyes again.
“I thought you liked Eugene, you’re always laughin’ at him.”
You blinked in surprise and your mouth opened slightly.
“Like him? He’s an idiot… that’s why I laugh,” you said with your eyebrows furrowed.
“Hm. Well I also pair you with him and Gabriel since you’re one of our best fighters and teachers and I was hopin’ they’d learn somethin’,” he hummed as he turned your face back and forth just to double check that you were unharmed.
“Wait, what? That’s what you think of me?” you blurted out.
He raised a brow at you and a small smile played on his lips.
“Of course, what did ya think?”
You shrugged and looked down as your face flushed with heat. “Thought you stuck me with ‘em cause you thought I was the same as them.”
This time he did truly chuckle.
“Wow. I thought you’d think better of my leadership. It wouldn’t make much sense to put the weakest links together, they’d die. Ya wanna put the strongest with the weakest so they learn to be stronger,” he explained while nodding his head.
“Oh. Yeah. That does make more sense,” you muttered.
He smirked at you and you swore your heart skipped a beat.
“Promise me you won’t go sleepin’ outside on your own again and I’ll give you a break from Eugene,” Rick said fervently.
“Deal,” you agreed all too quickly which caused a rough chuckle to slip past his lips again.
“C’mon darlin’, let’s go back inside with the others- you can nap in there where it’s safer,” he encouraged as he stood and offered you his hand.
Your heart fluttered at the affectionate nickname. You slid your hand into his much larger calloused hand and you had to actively stop your mind from wandering down a path of wondering how those hands would feel on the rest of your body.
You followed him back into the warehouse and then into the big open room everyone had begun to make camp in. He placed a hand on your back as he led you to sit next to him.
“You hungry?” he asked as he pulled granola bars out of a backpack and started to pass them out to everybody.
“Yeah, thanks,” you mumbled and his fingers brushed against yours for far longer than necessary as you took the snack that would count as everyone’s meal for the night from him. It was better than the group’s dinner last night of absolutely nothing.
Today’s scavenging was more successful, thank God. Your group still needed to find a more permanent living situation, and this warehouse did not seem like the solution. But you weren’t in the habit of borrowing tomorrow’s worries. No, you were just glad you made it through another day alive and without losing anyone you cared about.
Maggie handed Judith to Rick and he placed a kiss on her forehead before settling her on his lap. She giggled at you as you made silly faces at her.
Your name was called in a very nervous voice and you looked over as Eugene approached you.
“I would be remiss if-”
“I’m sorry Eugene,” you cut him off. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was an ass.”
“While I do appreciate that, I also understand that I have a tendency to over-articulate in a way that can be grating on the nerves at times. So, I do apologize for becoming a pain in your rear end lately,” he said with a nod of his head that shook his ridiculous mullet.
You let out a soft laugh. “It’s fine, dude. We’re good,” you reassured him.
He nodded again then went back to his spot near Abraham and Rosita.
You looked over and realized Rick was watching you with raised brows.
“What?” you asked.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you be that nice before,” he said in a teasing tone and a playfulness in his light blue eyes.
You opened your mouth to reply but he said, “To anyone but the kids at least.”
“I’m plenty nice,” you snapped, “to everyone but you.”
He laughed and you muttered, “Shut up” as you began to adjust your backpack so you could lay your head on it.
You quickly turned your body away from him as you laid down so he couldn’t see the smile that adorned your lips.
You woke the next morning after nearly a full night’s sleep, which was a miracle in the post-apocalyptic world you lived in, to a jacket with a woollen collar laid atop you. You weren’t quite as successful at hiding your smile this time.
You yawned as you sat up and stretched and the jacket slid to your lap. It was clear you were one of the last to wake as most everyone was quietly moving around as they prepared for the day.
“You’re up! Finally! Dad said I had to let you sleep, but Judith has been wanting you,” Carl said from across the room.
You smiled, “I’ll take the little princess.” You reached your hands out and Carl crossed the room and placed Judith in your waiting arms. She giggled at your teasing as you spoke to her in a high voice and tickled her.
You noticed the granola bar carefully left next to your backpack and your heart warmed before you tore into it and devoured it in a few bites.
A few minutes later everyone seemed almost packed up and ready to go, you included. You’d gotten good at multitasking- holding and caring for Judith while taking care of other tasks (including sometimes killing walkers) had become a breeze for you. Rick came back inside the building as he holstered his gun and surveyed everyone’s progress.
“Let’s move out in five. We’ve got a lotta ground to cover today,” he ordered and everyone either nodded or made sounds of agreement.
He crossed the room as he came towards you and knelt down next to where you sat. He gently held Judith’s hand and the fondness in his gaze as he greeted her made your heart clench. As did the fact that he still had a soft look in his eyes when he looked up from where Judith sat in your arms and said, “Mornin’”.
“Hey,” you replied with a small smile. “Thanks for letting me sleep in. I feel much less grumpy.”
“Anythin’ for you, darlin’,” he said with a wink before he stood up and offered you his hand. You allowed him to help you stand and struggled to hide how flustered he made you, especially when he squeezed your hand before letting go. You handed him his jacket back, which he took and promptly put on.
“It’ll also help the overall morale of the group if you’re not snappin’ at everybody,” he teased.
You scoffed and shoved your shoulder into his as you walked past him, but once again couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. You glared at Maggie when she wiggled her eyebrows at you which only caused her to laugh.
The day continued on with your group once again hiking under the hot sun in an attempt to find more supplies and better shelter. The routine had become somewhat monotonous, but the constant life threatening situations made it feel a bit less so.
Today, the group stumbled upon an abandoned superstore. Rick ordered everyone to split up in pairs to explore and scavenge.
He asked Carl to stay outside with Judith and for Carol to protect them both.
When he called your name, you expected as usual to be grouped with one of the less combat inclined of your traveling companions but couldn’t stop your expression of surprise as he said, “You’re with me. Alright everyone, be quick and quiet and grab anything that could be potentially useful. Let’s go.”
The group split into their designated pairs and began to enter the store. Enough scouting had already been done that it seemed abandoned by walkers as well, but still it was always important to be cautious.
You followed Rick as he made his way to the back of the store to explore your assigned area. Hatchets in hand, you both made your way through the aisles without speaking in order to ensure you didn’t draw any of the dead in case they were hidden out of sight.
Finally, when everything seemed all clear Rick pulled off his backpack and you helped him to fill it with supplies.
You quietly searched the shelves and shoved aside anything useless. You tossed a bottle of ibuprofen at Rick- which he caught and dropped in his pack before he turned to search the shelf across from you.
Your gasp caused him to whip back around towards you with his hatchet raised.
“Look what I found!” you said excitedly, still cautious enough to keep your voice low.
Rick sighed deeply as he returned his hatchet to his belt and gave you an annoyed look as he glanced between your face and the unopened bag of mini chocolate donuts. They were most likely still good considering they’re chock full of preservatives.
You didn’t even know how long it had been since you had chocolate and your mouth was already watering at the thought.
“What?” you asked. “Y’don’t want any?”
He rolled his eyes and went back to searching for supplies.
“Fine, suit yourself. I was willin’ to share with you, but I’m not sharin’ with anybody else,” you grumbled as you shoved the donuts into your own backpack.
You heard him laugh softly and you smirked triumphantly. Your ability to dissuade the grumpiness and bring amusement to one another filled your heart with a light you hadn’t felt in a long time.
“We should check that back storage room in case there’s extra stuff back there that they never had the chance to put out on the floor,” you whispered after the two of you had cleared several aisles having only found a couple of necessities.
“Good idea,” he replied and led the way.
You followed his lead as you kept your hand on your hatchet.
There didn’t seem to be any walkers in the back, but it was dark. You held a flashlight while Rick ripped open boxes. You looked around the dark room, searching for any kind of movement in the dark as a sinking feeling plagued you.
He looked back at you with a grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eye as he held up a protein bar.
“I think you might be a genius, this whole box is full of ‘em,” he said as he gestured to the large cardboard box before him.
Your eyes widened in a look of horror. His brow furrowed but before he could even open his mouth to ask, you threw a knife at him.
It flew so close to his head that his curls rustled in the wind it created before it buried itself in the forehead of the walker whose teeth were inches away from Rick’s shoulder.
A look of shock overtook his expression as he looked between you and the walker, but you weren’t done. You yanked out your hatchet and stalked past him and took out the two walkers who were rounding the corner and heading towards the two of you.
Rick came up behind you with his hatchet in hand as well, but all seemed to be clear.
You took heaving breaths to calm the adrenaline that ran through your body.
You both holstered your weapons, including yanking the knife out of the walker’s forehead and wiping it clean, and Rick's hand encircled your wrist as he pulled you to turn to face him.
His eyes were still wide with surprise.
“Thanks.”
You shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”
“No, I’m gonna. You just saved my ass,” he said fervently as he stepped closer to you.
It was like he’d just had this realization that you always supported him, always helped him, always had his back.
“Isn’t that what we do for each other? We’ve got each other's backs. That’s why our group works,” you replied.
He nodded but continued to look at you with such intensity that it made you take a step backwards and your back bumped into the wall behind you.
“Do you look at Daryl like this when he saves your ass?”
He shook his head and in a low gravelly tone said, “No.”
He looked ready to devour you as he took another step closer. Your breath caught in your throat.
“Rick?”
“Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath.
He practically lunged forward, one hand landed on the wall next to your head and the other spanned the side of your face to the back of your neck as he tilted your head up. His body pressed against yours, effectively trapping you between his heat and the wall.
Before you could even breathe, his lips were on yours. The brush of his beard was harsh against your skin as his lips firmly pressed against yours.
Your hands reached up to grip the curls at the base of his head, threading your fingers through the surprisingly soft hair. He took that as encouragement and deepened the kiss.
With a groan his lips pried yours open and his tongue pillaged your mouth with an intensity that left you whimpering. The heat of him, the taste of him, the fierceness of him was overwhelming and you kissed him back with all the passion he gave you.
It could’ve gone on for minutes, or maybe hours, you didn’t know but you never wanted it to end. You were ready to give him everything he wanted and more, but the sound of footsteps behind Rick had him yanking back from you. He whipped around, his gun already raised and cocked as he held a hand behind him to protect you and keep you safe behind his back.
Your lips still tingled from his affection, and as you peered around his shoulder you huffed in annoyance.
“S-sorry. I was elected to determine the whereabouts of both of you but as I have observed with my own two eyes, your safety is not currently in question. Therefore, I will take my leave, but you should know should this rendezvous continue on that the whole group is ready to move on out and is waiting on your approval and presence to do so. Yours truly will take leave now and report to the others that the waiting will continue for a little while longer,” Eugene rambled.
Rick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he lowered his weapon. He still didn’t move an inch so you continued to be stuck between him and the wall. It honestly wasn’t a bad place to be, you weren’t complaining.
“Jesus, Eugene, it’s fine, just tell everyone to come help us carry these supplies,” Rick ordered.
“Yes sir,” Eugene replied quickly and turned around and left just as quickly.
You laughed quietly and Rick turned back around- still not giving you an inch of space- and placed both hands on the wall on either side of your head and leaned down so his face was incredibly close to yours.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he murmured before he kissed you again. This kiss was slow, gentle, and full of warmth. The kind of kiss that might’ve been your first kiss if you weren’t living in a time of death and desperation for survival.
His lips lingered on yours long enough that you worried others would stumble upon the two of you again. You weren’t keen on having an audience, particularly not Eugene- you’d heard a rumor that he was into voyeurism of his friends which you certainly didn’t want to have anything to do with.
“Then what took you so long?” you asked in a teasing voice as Rick’s lips finally separated from yours and he took a step back as he ran a hand though his grey streaked curls.
“Well at first I thought you had a thing for Eugene, not me,” he replied.
You rolled your eyes. “Thought you were smart,” you muttered.
He grabbed your shirt and yanked you into his body. “Don’t be a smartass,” he reprimanded, but his lips found yours again in a brief kiss that negated all the harshness in his tone.
“I worried, I worried about too many things. But yesterday almost losin’ you and today with you saving me… I realized all those worries were ridiculous when none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. I couldn’t even think about losing you, especially not without you knowin’ how I feel about you,” he said with such fervency.
His confession left you breathless.
“I- I worried too much too. Worried that you’d never feel the same way I did. Worried that if I ever told you I’d lose you,” you said, your voice so quiet it was practically a whisper.
All of the reasons you’d both withheld yourselves seemed frivolous now as light filtered through the murky window on the other side of the room and bathed Rick in the brightness of new opportunity and fresh start. A chance for new love despite the horrors of the world.
So you kissed him once more, this kiss but a brief touch of lips, a taste of something more that was to come, a sweetness only utter devotion could bring.
All too soon, he stepped back far enough that as many in your group came through the swinging doors it would not appear that anything had changed between the two of you.
To everyone else, finding the stock of food in the back of that abandoned grocery store was the only life altering thing that had occurred. But when you met Rick’s ocean blue eyes you realized you could drown in the affection you found in his gaze.
All the former awkwardness and miscommunication between the two of you was completely forgotten as you smiled at him and he smiled back- eyes crinkling- and the whole world felt anew with possibility.
#rick grimes#twd#the walking dead#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes x you#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes angst#rick grimes fluff#rick grimes twd#twd rick#twd fanfiction#rick grimes x fem!reader
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MDNI
Era: Quarry, established relationship
Warning: Porn without plot, grumpy pent up Daryl. Unprotected p in v-wear protection folks. I woke up thinking about this I had to write it down. Help me, I need this man like I need water 🥵
Life had changed quickly. It felt like only yesterday you and Daryl were cozied up in a cabin along the mountains, away from his brother, away from the world. He'd come back from a day of hunting, usually with different game. You'd cook the food and serve your man and he'd make sure to satisfy you after, long into the night. You loved your simple life with Daryl, he was less stressed and grumpy. But alas you had found yourselves in the apocalypse, surrounded by strangers. Strangers who would give Daryl and Merle funny looks, quietly snickering to eachother. He was out hunting again most days as Merle just sat by his tent getting drunk. You felt like you hadn't had a moment alone with your man and your body began to notice. You were craving him, a hot fire consuming your body. He was sitting on one of the rocks by the water sharpening his knives, a pissed off look on his face as he noticed a few members of the group staring at him before quickly looking away as they got caught. Daryl scoffed returning his focus back to his knives. You take a seat next to him. His natural musk filling your nostrils instantly. You go to touch his forearm and he shrugs you off never letting his gaze leave his knives. You knew he was pent up but he was so focused on survival, you knew he wasn't be selfish but god did you miss him.
Y/N: "Daryl" you pout
He looks at you briefly before looking away
You sit closer next to him, your body craving his touch, anything. A quiet whimper escapes your lips as your eyes grew misty. You weren't sad, you were just overwhelmed with the need for him. You weren't sure if it was because you and Daryl hadn't had time alone in over a month or that he took on a new protective role but you needed him.
Daryl looks through his brows at the group, they were a fair bit away as they had made their own little set up by the RV. You could see him chewing his bottom lip, his breathing becoming a little heavier.
Y/N: "Daryl" you repeat, more with a quiet pleading tone which made him look at you. You couldn't read his expression at first as he stared at you. His face was red and his nostrils flared.
Daryl: "Dammit woman" he gruffed stabbing his knives into the dirt as he grabbed your forearm harshly pulling you along with him. You almost stumbled over a root but you were just so excited to finally have his attention. You'd follow him blindly anywhere.
He pushes you up against a giant rock face by the water, away from the judging eyes of the others. His arms incasing you as he studies your face, you could swear he was sniffing you, breathing you in.
Daryl: "Can't gimme a damn minute huh need my attention tha' badly?" He growls his nose and lips grazing over your neck ever so slightly.
You couldn't form words, couldn't string a sentence together even if you wanted to. You felt you would buckle under his gaze.
Y/N: "Need you..please" you plead, embarrassed you had tears in your eyes
Daryl: "Cravin' ma cock?" He asks lowly into your ear as he pushes his hard length against you
You squeak. You didn't know if it was because you hadn't had him in so long but he felt bigger, harder. You squeeze your legs together, desperate for any relief.
Y/N: "Can't help it, my body needs you Dar" you pant as you feel him unbutton your jeans and pulling them to your thighs. He takes a quick scan of the area before turning you around. Feeling your plush ass against his throbbing cock
Daryl: "Don't make a sound" he orders lowly pushing roughly into you.
You moan accidentally placing your hands on the rock as your body is pushed up hard against it.
Daryl: "Goddammit woman" Daryl pants placing a hand over your mouth. He grips your hip, his mouth placed on your neck in a desperate need to claim you. Feeling your tight pussy strangle his cock as he pushes harder and faster into you. You consume his senses. He is lost inside you. Your eyes quickly roll back as your pussy tries to adjust to his girth but Daryl is fucking you into the rock. He teeth leaving delicious marks on your neck, his hand sure to leave bruises on your hip. You moan behind his hand, thankfully most of the noise being masked. You could feel your juices drip, pool around the base of his cock. Daryl become ferocious inside you, he hadn't realised how feral he was feeling so focused on keeping you alive. You push back slightly feeling you climax cumming on as you needed him to brush against your cervix. Daryl's cock twitching inside you, feeling how much you needed him. He came inside you. Thick ropes of cum shooting straight into your womb. You almost blacked out from pleasure Daryl having to hold you closely against him, panting in your ear like a damn beast. After a moment he pulls out his soaked cock and turns you around. You still felt shy under his gaze at times although you'd been together for years but he was gorgeous, especially when he was sweating after giving you the ride of your life. He pulls your trousers up, looking a little guilty.
Daryl: "M'sorry, jus tryna focus on all this bullshit" he apologises referring to the apocalypse
You hated him looking so guilty, he hadn't done anything wrong. You place a hand on his cheek, pecking him softly against the lips as he tugs on the sides of your shirt
Y/N: "You don't have to apologise Daryl, not to me..but when you're being the hero just don't forget about me" you reply with a soft smile, glowing from satisfaction
Daryl: "Never, ma woman hmm?" Daryl asks shyly already knowing the answer
Y/N: "Always"
#daryl dixon#the walking dead#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl x reader#daryl dixon smut#daryl smut
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𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐥𝛐𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝛐𝐞𝐬 ⋮ 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔩 𝔇𝔦𝔵𝔬𝔫
𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Daryl Dixon hates you. Or does he? And do you only love the flowers that grow in your own garden, or do you love the wild ones too? Because with eyes watching in the darkness of the night, nothing is ever quite as it seems.
𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Smut ⋮ Hurt ⋮ Angst ⋮ Voyeurism ⋮ Masturbation ⋮ Exhibitionism ⋮ Dub-Con ⋮ Language ⋮ Cumplay ⋮ Semi-Public
𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 8.000 𝑬𝒓𝒂: The Quarry 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Fem!Reader
𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ⋮ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

As you walked behind Daryl, your eyes drifted from the road ahead to the ground beside your feet, where something caught your eye and distracted you rather fast from everything else around you—a bunch of wildflowers that had bloomed along the side of the road. They were not only the kind you’ve always loved, but they were also a small reminder of what life really was like not so long ago.
Without a second thought, you decided to step off the path, with your fingers reaching out instinctively to touch the nearest blossom in silent admiration.
"They’re still so beautiful, despite everything," you whispered quietly to yourself, not wanting Daryl to hear what you were saying. "I remember how I always thought these were just pretty-looking weeds as a kid because Mom and Dad always had them everywhere in our garden. God, I miss them so much."
Kneeling down beside the flowers, you allowed yourself a quiet moment of peace, thinking back to a few weeks ago when everything was still normal. To those weekends gardening with your mom while your dad cut the lawn or filmed you and your mother to capture memories for the future. The time when your parents were still alive.
But that short moment of peace was quickly shattered by an all-too-familiar sound that made your heart skip a beat and sent a shiver through your body. Spinning around, your eyes locked on the rotting figure of a walker emerging from behind a tree, and panic flooded your mind.
"Shit!" You screamed, stumbling backward and falling hard onto the ground, and in your desperate attempt to avoid being bitten, you reached for your weapon, only to realize the handle was tangled with the strap of your backpack. Despair washed over you as the walker got closer, its hands reaching out to dig its fingers into your flesh.
Just then, Daryl heard your scream. He spun around, his crossbow aimed at the walker, and in the blink of an eye, the creature dropped dead at your feet with a bolt in its head.
"What in the hell were ya doin'?" Daryl shouted, his face full of anger as he rushed over.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you stumbled to your feet, your voice trembling. "I… I just noticed the flowers! I’ve always liked flowers and these—"
"Flowers? Ya nearly got yerself killed over some damn flowers?" His eyes narrowed in frustration.
Daryl’s voice was bitter, full of anger, as he grabbed your arm and pulled you roughly back onto the road. Before you could react, he stomped his boot into the patch of flowers, grinding them into the dirt in front of your eyes.
"Can't believe ya'd risk yer life for this bullshit!" He said, as he pulled his bolt out of the walker and walked back to you again.
His grip on your arm tightened, and he yanked you forward. "Look at ya," he growled, full of disgust. "Ya think this is some kinda shitty garden party? We're fightin' to survive, and yer out here actin' like a pussy over a bunch of fuckin' flowers! ‘S that what's gonna save us? A fuckin' bouquet?"
His words made you flinch, and you were unable to hold back the tears that had already formed in your eyes. When you looked back up, Daryl's face was only inches from yours.
"Oh, look at ya, so delicate and pure!" He taunted with disdain. "Yeah… Ya gonna stop this shitshow with a bouquet, huh? Gonna wave 'em around and make all the walkers bow down to yer flowery grace? What’s next, princess? A fuckin’ garden gnome to guard the damn camp?"
You tried to steady your voice, fighting back your sobs. "Listen, Daryl… Thank you for saving me, really! But I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble! I just... I just wanted a moment of beauty that reminded me of—"
"A moment of beauty? Ya think yer gonna find some happy endin' in the middle of all this shit? It's like yer livin' in a fuckin' fantasy! Newsflash: This ain’t a damn fairy tale!" Daryl cut you off with a mocking laugh.
He stepped closer, invading your personal space. "Oh, I see. Ya got this big-ass plan, don't ya? Ya gonna sprinkle some petals ‘round and charm all the dead assholes with yer pretty flowers, huh? Hell, why not add a unicorn that shits glitter while yer at it?"
You opened your mouth to protest, but his insults didn't even give you a chance. "Oh, wait, I got it! Ya gonna build a fairyland where everything is perfect and we all live happily ever after! Ya gonna knit a quilt with flowers on it, and everyone will forget 'bout the damn world fallin' apart! That’s yer big-ass plan, ain't it?"
Listening to him, you struggled more and more to hold back your sobs, but you finally found the confidence to respond. "That's not true! And I didn’t say that. I just thought—"
"Thought what?" Daryl interrupted again, his voice almost yelling in anger. "Ya think that’s gonna change anything? Get real! Out here, ya don't get to have yer shitty moments of peace. Ya either get yer head outta yer ass or ya die!"
He shook his head, scoffing at you. "Tell me! What’s next, huh? Ya gonna start singin' lullabies to the walkers? Maybe ya should bake ‘em some cookies and ask ‘em to join the damn camp," he spat out, finally turning away and leaving you standing in the middle of the road, knowing that you’d follow him one way or another.
And you did.
Aside from Daryl's few mutterings of frustration, the walk back to the camp was quiet. He didn’t offer you an apology, nor did he ask why you seemed so fascinated by those wildflowers in the first place. Instead, he simply continued to walk ahead, throwing you angry sidelong glances from time to time, while his annoyed curses and angry mumblings barely reached your ears anymore.
You allowed the minutes to pass, and just as you were beginning to accept being his supply run partner a little bit more, Daryl's voice was heard again. "Quit yer damn whinin'! Pretty flowers ain't gonna keep ya alive!" he said, his anger not yet gone. "All this fuckin' bullshit just makes ya look weak! Ain't nobody got time for that. Ya gotta get that into yer head!"
He looked ahead, and with a sudden, quick move, he lifted his boot and stomped down on another few wildflowers growing along the side of the road. Your jaw dropped in disbelief, and your eyes widened in shock and hurt. The purpose behind it—to obviously hurt you—only made you clench your fists tighter, your nails digging into your palms.
But you stayed silent; the last thing you wanted was to give him any more reason to bully you and to fuel his anger. Instead, you focused on keeping your breathing steady, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you continued to follow behind him.
As you both finally approached the quarry, Daryl’s anger reached its breaking point, and in a rather sudden decision, he stormed off the path, disappearing into the woods without another word and taking the rest of the supplies with him.
"Yeah, yeah, run away, you fucking dickhead," you whispered to yourself before putting the backpack down next to the RV. "What a damn idiot! Just because he’s got a stick up his ass doesn’t mean he is allowed to shit on everything that others care about. He thinks he’s so tough, but he’s just an asshole who’s always acting like he’s the only one who matters around here! And here I was, thinking I might actually like him and have a soft spot for him. Guess I was just kidding myself. What a fucking joke!" You continued and let the sadness come out quietly as you were left standing alone.
"Can’t believe he thinks this is some kind of, I don't know, redneck survival training. ‘Oh, look at me, I’m so tough! I’ll just destroy whatever makes you happy!’ Well, newsflash to you too, Dixon: You’re not the only one who’s capable of surviving! Jesus…"
The sudden sound of footsteps approaching stopped your rant, and you turned to see Dale walking towards you with a look of concern. "Hey there," he said with a smile, taking the backpack into his hands. "You look like you’ve had a rough time out there today. Is everything okay? Where’s Daryl Dixon?"
You hesitated for a moment, the situation that has happened before making it hard for you to find the right words. Finally, you sighed and responded.
"I couldn’t give less of a fuck where that man is right now! I mean, listen, Daryl’s been—well, he’s been a jerk, like always. He got mad about a few pretty flowers that I found. You know, the wild ones that I showed you the other day when you were talking with Shane? Well, Daryl ended up stomping all over them because he had to save me from a walker, since the flowers distracted me and nearly got me killed. And now he’s just gone off into the woods without a word. He even took the rest of the supplies we’ve found with him. Can you believe that, Dale?"
"Oh, yes, I do remember the flowers; very nice to look at. My wife would’ve loved them as well, believe me," Dale’s eyes studied you as he listened to you, trying to understand what had happened, "but I’m sorry to hear about what has happened. Sure, Daryl’s got a lot of—let’s call it rough and tough edges. But I’m sure he’ll be back soon with the supplies; don’t you worry about that."
His words and warm smile helped to calm you down a little. "Yeah, I guess you’re right," you sighed, feeling a little better. "Thanks, Dale. I just needed to let off some steam. And maybe Daryl's right, some of those flowers weren’t meant to survive this cruel world…"
Dale nodded once more but looked slightly concerned because of your answer, though he decided not to address it, nor did he press any further. "Anytime. Now, let’s get these supplies sorted. I bet that Daryl will calm down soon enough as well."
You couldn't help but laugh at the thought. "Yeah, maybe. And pigs might fly too."
Soon enough, you were busy sorting the supplies when you heard footsteps approaching again. This time, it was Daryl who did come back from the woods, but his face showed that he was still annoyed.
"Here," he snapped, tossing his bag of supplies onto the ground. "Forgot to leave 'em here. Don’t expect any flowers or fairy dust."
You looked up from the supplies, sighing loudly. "Yeah, thanks," you answered quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. "I guess it’s good you’re back. The camp needs those supplies."
Daryl’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Ya know, if ya spent less time daydreamin' and more time focusin' on what’s important, then we wouldn’t have to deal with this shit."
"Is that so?" You shot back, struggling to stay calm. "And what exactly is ‘important’ to you, Daryl? Destroying everything that reminds people of normalcy?"
He snorted at you. "Normalcy? Ain’t no such thing in this world no more. If ya can’t handle that, maybe ya should stay behind."
His words hurt, but you forced yourself not to fuel his anger. "Well, maybe if you weren’t so hell-bent on destroying everything that might still matter to others, you’d see that sometimes people need a bit of hope, however small."
Daryl stared you down. "Hope? Hope won’t keep ya alive. Only havin' a pair of balls and havin’ a clear head will do that. And from where I stand, ya got none of that."
"I guess we’ve all got our own way of coping with this new world," you said quietly, not really knowing what to answer him anymore.
His eyes studied you. "Copin'? Ya think I’m just ‘copin'’ here? I’m tryna keep us alive, and all ya do is mess 'round with flowers like it’s some kind of goddamn gardenin' hobby."
You took a deep breath. "I’m just trying to hold on to a bit of what makes me human. I know it might seem pointless to you at the moment, but those flowers... they remind me of something good, something that I miss."
Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Well, good for ya. Maybe ya can save the world with yer damn flowers, while the rest of us are riskin' our asses."
Before you could respond, Andrea approached you, having overheard the conversation. "Hey, is everything alright?" She asked, her eyes looking from you to Daryl.
"Just a little disagreement," you answered, forcing a smile. "Nothing we can’t handle."
Daryl took a step back and shook his head. "Yeah, well, I’m done wastin' my time here. Gonna get some rest."
As he walked away, Andrea rolled her eyes and turned to you with a smile. "Don’t let him get to you. He's an asshole. But you’re doing the right thing by holding on to what makes you feel human. You’ll get used to him eventually."
Later that evening, as the campfire was burning down slowly and the rest of the group went to go to sleep after their meal, you sat quietly on the side, lost in your thoughts. Daryl had withdrawn from the group, sitting alone by a tree as he stared into the flames from afar. Eventually, you stood up and walked off to your tent, but the next morning, a flower appeared by the entrance, carefully placed where it was visible but not too obvious.
"Is he for real?" You said to yourself, not really sure why he'd even continue to make fun of you like this in the first place.
While you were helping with camp chores a short time later, you spotted Jacqui kneeling by the water, washing the clothes. Taking the chance to get some answers, you approached her.
"Hey, Jacqui," you began, trying to sound neutral. "I found this wildflower in front of my tent. Any idea who might be leaving them? I don't know if Andrea told you, but I had a problem with Daryl yesterday, and I thought he left the flower there just to keep on making fun of me."
"Of course Andrea told me, how come you think she wouldn’t? You can’t keep secrets around here!" Jacqui looked up, laughing out loud. "But come on, are you for real? You think it was Daryl Dixon? Really? Come on, that's too funny."
You blinked, taken aback by her reaction. "Wait, you think it’s funny that I’m even considering Daryl after him acting like a total dickhead? I just thought—"
Jacqui laughed again, shaking her head. "Oh, come on. Daryl? Why should he continue to make fun of you like that? I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him to throw a beer can at your head, or leave a skinned squirrel in front of your tent or even under your pillow, but flowers? You're overthinking things. Honestly, I'd bet it's Shane."
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks. "Shane? Seriously? That’s what you think? But Daryl literally bullied me because of them."
Jacqui stood up, stretching her arms. "So, what? I’m just saying that sometimes it’s better not to overthink things, especially when it comes to the Dixon brothers. There's nothing that'd benefit him in mocking you any further. Anyway, I’ve got clothes to get back to." With that, Jacqui wandered off, leaving you confused and a bit embarrassed.
"Hey! It’s not like I expect him to start a flower shop anytime soon, okay? It’s just super weird!" You shouted after her, shaking your head slightly, before you caught sight of Daryl from a distance, kneeling over his crossbow. The sight of him—mumbling to himself and clearly busy with whatever he was doing—irritated you, and you decided it was time to confront him directly.
"Daryl, can we talk for a second?" You finally asked and approached him hesitantly.
He looked up, his expression unreadable. "Whaddaya want, woman?"
You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady despite the frustration you felt about him still being angry with you. "I found this flower this morning. Right by my tent."
"Yeah? And what’s that gotta do with me?" Daryl’s eyes narrowed, his tone defensive.
"I just thought that maybe you’d know something about it. I mean, I didn’t think it was a coincidence, since the flower is like the same from—" You started, but he didn't let you finish.
"Hell, I dunno nothin’ ‘bout those damn flowers. Ya think I’m runnin’ ‘round playin’ flower fairy for ya now or what? It wasn't me. Keep dreamin'," Daryl cut you off, his jaw tightening.
His voice was harsh, his tone dismissive. "Just stop pissin’ me off; yer just lookin’ too much into shit. It’s just flowers. Quit tryna make somethin’ outta nothin’."
Your frustration was growing, and you took a step closer. "I’m just trying to understand. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to understand something. Look, it doesn’t make sense for this flower to just—"
Before you could finish, Daryl cut you off again. "Hell, just drop it! Got enough problems without ya comin’ at me with this bullshit. Ain’t in the mood for yer crap no more."
Just then, Shane appeared with a wide smile on his face. "Hey there," he said, leaning against a nearby tree. "I couldn’t help but notice you looking a bit stressed. You up for some fishing? Could use some company, if you’re interested, that is."
You glanced between Shane’s big smile and Daryl’s scowling face, and with a small nod, you agreed. "Yeah, that actually sounds nice. I could definitely use a break right now. And it’d be nice to eat some fish every now and then."
Shane’s smile widened. "Perfect! We’ll have a great time, I’m sure of it; even if we don’t catch anything, it’ll still be fun. I’ll go get everything ready and come back to get you when I’m done."
"Why don’t ya both just try to drown while fishin’ then? I’m sure ya’d both do a great job at it," Daryl suddenly mumbled, turning back to his bag.
"Excuse me? What was that? What did you just say?" You asked, trying to keep your voice calm, but your confusion was obvious as you watched Shane walk away. "And what the hell are you even doing there in the first place, Daryl?"
"None of yer damn business," he snapped back at you with annoyance. "Maybe ya should spend less time bein’ a pain in the ass and more time doin’ somethin’ useful. Like catchin’ more than just one damn pitiful fish with that Romeo ya got over there."
You shook your head, feeling your frustration boil over. "You think you’re the only one who cares about survival? We’re all trying to get by, Daryl. But as a team! Together, as a group of survivors! And you? You’re just being an asshole."
Daryl’s gaze hardened. "Oh, that so? And what’s yer excuse for bein’ a pathetic, whiny mess? Thinkin’ yer entitled to shit? Get over yerself."
Before you could respond, Shane reappeared with some of the fishing gear. He then noticed Daryl’s bag next to his crossbow and raised an eyebrow. "Thistles? What the hell are you gonna do with thistles, Dixon? Prick us to death?"
"Guess we’ll be havin’ a fancy-ass thistle salad for dinner. Real gourmet shit," Daryl answered sarcastically. "Ya can eat parts of 'em, if ya so keen on knowin', but I bet ya knew that already, ain’t that so officer fancy-pants?"
Shane’s face turned serious as he glanced between you and Daryl. "Dixon, you got a problem with something? ‘Cause you’re acting like a real jackass for no goddamn reason at all!"
Daryl turned back to his bag. "Nah, just tired of watchin’ ya’ll pretend to be so high and mighty. Don’t need no charity fishin’ trip from ya, Shane."
Shane’s jaw clenched slightly, but he tried to sound calm. "Funny, Daryl, really funny. Maybe you should take a look at yourself before you start a fight you can’t win."
Daryl’s expression grew darker. "Ain’t here to be ya damn buddy, Walsh. Got my own shit to deal with, so why don’t ya just keep yer damn opinions to yerself?"
"Alright, alright. You do you, Dixon," Shane answered, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile as he looked at you again. "Come on, let's go fishing then; I’ll ask Jim to be on the lookout in the meantime."
You watched Shane walk away, then turned back to Daryl, who was now looking at the thistles in his bag.
"Great, really great. That went well," you sighed, shaking your head, but Daryl didn’t respond and instead continued to fumble with the thistles. You soon walked away, joining Shane by the water.
"Let’s get this set up," he said, handing you a fishing rod. "We might as well make the best of it."
As the time went by, the conversation drifted to other topics. Shane talked about his past life, even sharing police stories that made you smile despite yourself.
"Thanks for this," you soon said. "It’s nice to get away from the group a little, even if it isn’t far, and just... be."
Shane nodded, focusing on his line. "Yeah, I figured you could use a break. Daryl’s got a way of being a pain in the ass."
"I guess that’s one way to put it," you laughed back. “But he isn’t the only one around who isn’t very great to get along with. The real pain in the ass around here is Ed, and that’s a fact.”
“Ed, yeah, don’t remind me. But you do realize that talking about Ed would be a pain in the ass just as much, don’t you think?” He smirked, casting his line again. "But speaking of Dixon, you know, it’s actually funny. Because I’ve seen that asshole sneaking around your tent more than once. Creepy as hell if you ask me."
You blinked at him in surprise. "Wait, wait, wait... What are you talking about? What do you mean? Daryl Dixon? What? When?"
Shane shrugged casually. "Well, I’ve already seen him lurking around your tent when you first got here weeks ago, like he’s some kind of damn stalker. Even seen him hide behind some of the cars at night. Also quite funny, because Jim was the one who caught him near the RV first, since he’s more or less the mechanic around here. Did you know that being an auto mechanic was Jim’s job? Who would’ve guessed?"
You frowned at him, processing this new information. "Shane, could you please stop trying to change the damn topic for a moment? This isn’t about Jim right now! Just tell me if you’re serious about Daryl sneaking around my tent!"
"Relax, relax! But yeah," Shane laughed and shook his head. "I mean, Daryl’s always been a bit of a freak, but that... that was something else. Fucking creep."
You bit your lip, feeling confused. "I don’t know, Shane. I mean, sure, he’s rough around the edges, like Dale pointed out before too, but..."
"But? But what?" Shane asked, raising an eyebrow.
You hesitated, then sighed. "It’s a little stupid, okay? But when I first got here, I kind of had a fleeting thing for him. But not for long; I mean, I didn’t know anybody around here; you were all just strangers, so of course I didn’t know what he’s actually like."
Shane’s face quickly showed disbelief and a bit of anger. "You’re shitting me, right? That piece of shit who literally told us to drown? You had a crush on him?"
You shook your head, feeling quite embarrassed. "No, listen, it wasn’t exactly a crush! Please, don't call it a crush, okay? I simply thought there was more to him, you know? Maybe under all that anger, there’s someone who… cares."
Shane shook his head, his jaw clenched so tight that you could see his muscles twitch while he was gritting his teeth. "You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. That hillbilly dipshit? He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, just like his brother Merle. And now he’s got you thinking he’s some kind of misunderstood hero? That piece of shit couldn’t even fit into the anti-hero category if he wanted to! I already told Lori and Carol to keep Carl and Sophia away from him and his brother! Because they’re both a bad influence!"
"It’s not like that, Shane! I know he’s very difficult, but..." You started, but he cut you off once more.
"But nothing!" Shane snapped. "God, you sound just like Dale! Please now, just listen to me. You deserve better than that. Someone who actually gives a damn about you. Not some freaking weirdo who creeps around your tent at night. I know that I should’ve told you sooner, and I’m sorry. But you think Daryl’s going to change just because Merle’s probably dead? Nah. He’s just going to keep treating you and all of us like shit. But I’m here, and I actually care about you and the rest of us. And I did care right from the start."
You shook your head, feeling overwhelmed by his words. "Shane, please, this really is turning into an awkward conversation right now. I just need some time to think and not a motivational coach with a shotgun and a fishing rod."
"Fine. But just remember what I said. Daryl’s not the guy you think he is." He leaned back, crossing his arms. "And you know what? The two of you are a perfect pair of fuckin’ clichés. The tough redneck guy and the naive dreamer princess. It’s pathetic."
You hesitated, unsure of how to continue the conversation. "Okay, okay, I got it! Stop! I meant to ask you a different question anyway! About a flower I found by my tent. Did you leave it there for me?"
Shane shook his head. "Me? Leaving you a flower? No. Don’t have time for that. I have to keep this group safe, after all."
You sighed, feeling a bit of relief. "I know, I know, it's just that... Jacqui thought it might've been you. Guess she was wrong."
Shane shrugged nonchalantly, not wanting to talk any further. "Yeah, well, let’s just finish up here and head back."
A short time later, you and Shane packed up your gear and headed back to the camp, where the rest of the group, apart from Daryl, was already sitting around the campfire and talking. about the usual things, all the while you couldn’t stop thinking about what Shane had told you as you stared into the fire.
And as the night finally fell over the Atlanta camp, Daryl found himself in the shadows and lost in thought. He had withdrawn from the group throughout the rest of the day, thinking about how Shane and your fishing trip had annoyed him and left him feeling more than just pissed.
He moved quietly through the trees, his steps almost making little to no sound while his mind was full of conflicting thoughts, each one more chaotic than the last. He was still angry with himself over everything that had happened—his rage towards you, Shane’s arrogant attitude, and his own pushed-away emotions that he couldn't really ignore.
Standing by the edge of your tent, he looked around to make sure he was alone and out of sight before he crouched down, pulling out a small bundle from his pocket—another wildflower, the exact kind that you liked so much.
"Fuckin' ridiculous," he mumbled to himself and snorted. "Here I am, sneakin' 'round like some kind of goddamn lunatic."
He put it gently on the ground, just near the entrance of your tent, where you had to notice it one way or another. His fingers moved along the petals of the flower as if it could somehow help him feel better with his guilt. "Goddamn it, Daryl," he whispered to himself. "Ya really fucked it all up, like ya always do. Stompin' on 'em flowers like a fuckin' idiot. What were ya even thinkin'?"
His eyes narrowed as he remembered how he had responded and how he had used his insults and rage to try to push you away. "Ya didn’t mean it," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Ya were just so pissed off. Shane’s up her ass all day, and ya had to be the one who’s had to do somethin'. Hell, she's gonna think it was him now anyway, with the way he’s been actin' 'round her, that's for damn sure."
He stood up, avoiding stepping on the flower. "But ya know what? It ain’t 'bout him. 'S 'bout yerself, ya fuckin' idiot. Ya can’t just keep watchin' her and expectin' her to see ya for the piece of shit ya really are."
He looked around when he heard a noise, seeing you coming from a distance, and quickly moved to hide behind a nearby tree. His heart was racing in his chest; adrenaline and shame were rushing through his body, but he couldn’t let you see him; he couldn’t let you know that he was here, after all.
Daryl crouched down low, pressing his back against the bark of the tree he was leaning against. "Every damn night," he whispered quietly, "watchin’ her shadow. Shit, she doesn’t know. Fuckin’ hell, if she knew... I’m a goddamn creep. But I can’t stop. I just—I need to see her. Need to know she’s there."
His eyes followed you as you got closer, but he didn’t move. He was observing you and watching to see if you would notice the flower immediately, or if you wouldn’t until the next morning.
"She’s gotta know it’s me," Daryl thought, his mind racing and his body beginning to sweat all of a sudden. "She’s suspicious already. Can’t let her know the real reason why. She’d hate me for it."
His knuckles went white as he clenched his fists tightly. "I’m a fuckin’ idiot. That’s what I am. Tryin’ to make it right with damn flowers, but I’m still the asshole who’s watchin’ her like a damn perv. She’s got no idea," he whispered to himself again. "No fuckin’ clue what’s really goin’ on. Hell, if anyone 'round here knew, they’d run me outta camp. Can’t have that. Don’t want her to know; don’t want anyone to know."
"Why’d ya let things go this far?" He continued to tell himself. "Why’d ya let yerself get so fuckin' close to her? Ya think she’s gonna understand why yer such a fuckin' creep? Fuck, think again."
As you opened your tent, Daryl's eyes were watching you with nervousness. Even though he knew it was wrong, he was unable to accept the fact that he had been watching you most of the time at night, unable to take his eyes off your tent.
"Ain't gonna make excuses," he muttered. "Been an asshole, and I know it. Been watchin' her—sometimes even more than I should. Fuckin' hate myself for it. Every damn time I see her, she reminds me that I’m a damn bastard, and I can’t stand it."
Thoughts of how he had treated you kept coming back again and again to his mind. "I act like I don’t give a shit, but I do. Hell, I care more than I wanna admit. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so goddamn hard on her. Dunno. Maybe I thought it’d keep me from feelin'... this way."
Daryl stayed right where he was, watching you leave your tent open as you eventually got inside. "Fuck," he whispered to himself. "This ain't right. She deserves better than this. Deserves someone who’s not a fuckin' creep. Can’t help it. I keep comin' back here, leavin' these stupid fuckin' flowers, hopin' she might see some part of me that’s not completely fucked up."
He sighed, feeling his thoughts pressing down on him. "Yer a mess, Dixon. And ya know it. Yer leavin' flowers to try to make up for yer own damn behavior, and it ain't ever gonna be enough."
Upon entering your tent, you did notice the flower that was lying by the entrance. In fact, the flower was too familiar, and the thought of Daryl lurking around nearby made you shiver, but you didn’t acknowledge the flower directly. Rather, you purposefully chose to ignore it because Shane's remarks regarding Daryl had made you feel a little uneasy, which you could not quite shake, but it also somehow excited you to no end.
"Alright, let’s make this good, and let’s see if he really is sneaking around here," you then murmured to yourself with a smirk on your lips as you thought about your plan. "I’m gonna give him a show he won’t forget anytime soon."
You began to undress slowly, your fingers sliding over your skin as you glanced at the open gap of the tent, a deliberate choice to keep it ajar.
"Is this what you want, Daryl?" You whispered to yourself as you pulled off your shirt and slid your jeans down. "Do you want to see me like this?"
With every piece of clothing that you let fall to the ground, the blush on your cheeks turned redder. The thought of him possibly watching you from the shadows, all hidden and quiet, made you shiver with excitement and nervousness, because of the other dangers that might be hidden in the shadows. “Don’t think about anything else right now; I’m safe. I’m safe.”
Your fingers fumbled with the hooks of your bra, and you let it fall from your shoulders before you squeezed your breasts with your hands, the feeling of your fingertips brushing over your hardening nipples making you moan. "Look at me," you murmured, "see how I’m touching myself, how I’m getting so fucking wet because of you right now."
Your hand slid down your stomach, your fingers sliding into your panties, with the wetness of your pussy making you gasp as you started to rub your clit in slow circles. "You like this, don’t you? Watching me at night, knowing I’m thinking of you?"
You soon pulled your panties down your legs and tossed them aside, showing yourself off completely before you laid down and spread your legs, giving a full view of your wet pussy. With two fingers, you traced the outer folds before slipping them inside, letting out a quiet moan. "I know you’re out there," you whispered, "watching every fucking move I make."
As you began to fuck yourself slowly, your other hand continued to pinch and tease your nipples. "I can almost feel your eyes on me," you mumbled, "watching as I fuck myself. Is it turning you on, Daryl? I bet you're already so fucking hard."
You added another finger inside, curling them slightly to stretch yourself more and tease your G-spot with each thrust. "I bet you’re dying to feel what this is like," you taunted quietly, "to be so so fucking deep inside me right here, right now."
Your fingers moved faster, your hips moving in time with the thrusts of your fingers, and you were already getting closer to the edge just by thinking about the fact that Daryl was probably watching you. "I bet you’re imagining how fucking tight I’d be around you," you moaned. "I know you’re just as fucking turned on as I am."
Among the trees, Daryl remained hidden in the shadows. His eyes were locked on you, unable to look away even as his heart pounded violently in his chest. The way your fingers moved over your breasts, the playful, almost desperate way you touched your hard nipples—it drove him wild, and the image of you parting your pussy and pushing your fingers into yourself was nearly unbearable. Every little movement you made seemed to burn itself into his mind.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he mumbled while his gaze shifted a bit as he attempted to stand up from his position without making a sound. He forced himself to remain motionless, but his hand went almost automatically to his zipper.
The simple sight of you, all naked, completely defenseless, and so vulnerable, was making him lose his mind. He could see how your body tensed and arched with every touch, and his eyes tracked every movement of your fingers as they slid in and out of your pussy.
"Fuck, not again; why’m I doin' this?" Daryl grumbled to himself, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock inside his pants. "This ain’t right. She’s right there, and I’m just—fuck!"
He glanced down at his own body, his cock pushing hard against his pants. It wasn't easy to ignore the pulsing need that was building up inside him—a need that seemed to only grow with every quiet moan you let out. His heart was racing, and he could feel the sweat starting to run down his forehead.
Daryl’s fingers fumbled with the zipper of his pants; he was trying to calm himself down at first, but the sight of you getting yourself off was making it nearly impossible to think straight. "Jesus fuckin' Christ," he muttered again, struggling to keep his breathing steady. "Ya can’t just give in. Not yet. Ya gotta keep control."
He watched you spread your legs wider, your fingers moving faster now, and it was all he could do to keep himself from making any noise. His eyes locked onto the way your body responded—how your hips bucked with each thrust of your fingers.
"Look at her. She’s so fuckin' beautiful," Daryl let out quietly. "So damn hot, and here I am, just watchin'. Like some sick fuckin' perv."
With a quiet, frustrated growl, he tried to regain control of himself, his hands clenching more tightly. Even though his cock was begging for attention, he was unable to let himself go.
"Keep it together, Dixon," he told himself, his voice trembling. "Yer not gonna just—give in. Not yet. Not like this. She’s... she’s right there. Goddamn it! Fuck!"
But Daryl's control was breaking fast, each breath that he took only making it harder to keep his impulses in check, and it was pushing him past the point of no return. The temptation was just too great, and he couldn't control himself any longer. His hands, which had been clenched tightly into fists, now finally moved to undo the zipper of his pants.
His cock sprang free, the sight of it being so hard making him shudder, and the moment his hand wrapped around it, he let out a quiet groan.
"Goddamn it," he mumbled, his voice full of frustration and lust as he started to stroke himself slowly. "She's gonna fuckin' kill me."
He couldn’t help but imagine your hands being on him—almost in the same way that you were touching yourself. He could hear your every moan, every breath, every whimper, and it only made him grip his cock tighter, his strokes becoming faster and more needy.
"I bet ya like that, don’t ya?" He grumbled to himself. "I bet ya fuckin' know I’m here."
It was impossible for him to ignore how badly he wanted to be the one touching you, to be the one making you sigh and moan for him.
"Jesus," he panted out and gasped. "Ya just keep fuckin' doin’ that, don’t ya, princess? Fuckin' hell..."
Struggling to remain silent, his free hand felt for the tree next to him, and he pressed it against the bark to steady himself. Though he was getting close to the edge and the tip of his cock was coated with pre-cum, he was determined not to cum just yet.
"Damn it, Dixon," he hissed at himself. "Look at ya, gettin' off to this all over again. Yer a fuckin' mess. Fuckin' pathetic."
There was still a part of him that wanted to stop, and he battled the shame and guilt that was building up and rising within him. But as your moans grew slightly louder and as you suddenly whispered his name into the darkness, it only pushed him further into his own desperate need.
"Hell’s she sayin'?" Daryl mumbled to himself, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus and concentrate on your voice. "Shit, she’s sayin' my fuckin' name..."
The sound of his name on your lips, even if it was only a silent whisper, made his cock twitch and pulse, and his strokes became more urgent with the intense need to finally cum.
"Fuckin' hell," he growled, his breathing coming out even more uneven. "She's gonna make me lose my shit. Just... just keep talkin', princess."
The way you were saying his name, the thought of you knowing he was watching, made it impossible for him to stay still. Finally, he couldn’t resist any longer. He stepped closer, his throbbing cock in hand, and let out a growl to make you notice him as he slipped inside your tent. "Ya really thought ya could just tease me like this?"
With your fingers still buried deep inside of you, your eyes snapped open. "Daryl?" Even though you knew that he was watching you, you let out a gasp, and your voice trembled slightly.
"Yeah," he said, taking another step closer. There was something else that turned him on even more than just the shock he could see in your eyes. "Thought ya could put on a private show for me, huh?"
You swallowed hard, your eyes never leaving his as he stood directly over you, his cock still hard and pulsing with every stroke of his hand. "A show?" You asked, your voice sounding a little shaky.
"Damn right. A show," he answered with a small smirk. "With me seein’ everythin'. Couldn’t stay away."
You pulled your fingers out of your pussy and tried to stand up, but Daryl pushed you back down with one of his boots on your shoulder. "Stay where ya are," he growled. "Don’t ya dare stop."
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as you looked up at him, your heart racing. The realization about the rawness of the moment hit you, and you nodded slowly, your fingers sliding back into your pussy as you lay back down in your tent. Your eyes were locked onto his, and he could see the mixed feelings of shock, excitement, and lust in your gaze.
Daryl’s hand soon moved in rhythm with yours again, his strokes becoming faster and more urgent as he watched you. The sight of you, so shameless and wet for him, made him lose himself even more. "Ya know," he said, his voice still low and rough. "Ain't thought I’d see this day. With yer all spread out like this, knowin' I’m here, watchin' ya fuckin’ yerself. 'S a damn mindfuck."
You moaned in response, your fingers working in and out of your pussy with an increasing speed of your thrusts. "And you think you can just walk in here?" You taunted back and teased him. "You think you’re gonna get what you want, Dixon?"
Daryl’s eyes never left yours, his cock throbbing with need. "Ain't just here for the damn show," he growled. "I’m here to fuckin' claim ya. Ya got that?"
Your eyes widened, and you barely held back a loud moan, your fingers pushing deeper into your pussy. "And what makes you think I’ll just let you?" You challenged him back, your eyes wandering from his cock to his face again.
"Oh, I think ya fuckin' will," Daryl said, his voice full of confidence. "'Cause I fuckin' want to. And it’s my turn to take what I want."
Every movement, every quiet moan, and every word you both whispered to each other heightened the lust and need for the both of you. Daryl’s strokes on his cock became more frantic, and he could feel his orgasm building, the pressure in his balls growing with every stroke, but he was determined to hold off until he had fully taken in the sight of you.
"Gonna make sure ya know who’s watchin'," Daryl said quietly. "Gonna leave my mark on ya."
He positioned himself above you, and without saying another word, he pointed his cock at you, making sure that his cum would land where he wanted it to.
"I ain't done," he growled, his eyes locked on you. "Not yet."
He took another step closer, his hand still jerking his throbbing shaft, while his other hand reached out, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you up slightly, just enough to make you look at him with wide eyes.
"Do ya want me to finish like this?" He mumbled, his voice already hoarse. "Or do ya want me to make a fuckin' mess 'round here in yer tent?"
You didn’t have a chance to answer before he let go of your hair and moved his cock closer to your body again. He had seen enough, felt enough—he was on the edge and couldn’t hold it back any longer. With a low groan, he started to jerk himself off harder and faster, his eyes never leaving yours, and without warning, he came hard, his hips bucking wildly and his cum shooting out, landing across your body, most of it on your breasts and chin.
"Fuck," he muttered, still stroking his cock, but slowing down. "Look at ya. Just a fuckin' mess now."
You lay there, slowly pulling your fingers out of your pussy, your body covered with his cum. "You know," you suddenly started, your voice quiet but teasing. "You might be the first wildflower that might leave a thorn in my side."
A smirk formed itself on Daryl's lips due to the mention of the flowers, but it was quickly replaced by a look of embarrassment, and he shifted uncomfortably as he put his cock back into his pants. "Shut ya damn mouth, woman."
Without a word, he stepped forward, grabbed your head roughly by your hair, and yanked you up to meet his eyes. You couldn’t help but whimper as he was staring at you up and down, so dangerously close.
Daryl grinned at the noise you made and grabbed your neck with his other hand, the thumb going to your chin and gathering the rest of his cum that was slowly sliding down on it.
"Eat," he insisted, but before you could answer or protest in any way, he put his thumb against your lips and pushed it inside your mouth, waiting for you to suck it off.
And just as he pulled it out again, his mouth came crashing down on yours in a rough and primal kiss. It was demanding, and his teeth moved against your skin as he went down to the side of your jaw, sucking on every bit of flesh on his way down to your neck before biting down hard into it, leaving his mark.
His gaze then fell to your fingers, still glistening with the juices of your pussy, as he held you in a tight grip to keep you from falling due to your trembling legs. Slowly, teasingly, he reached out and brought your fingers to his mouth. His tongue slid over your skin, licking and sucking them off intensely, devouring every bit of what was left of you on them.
Daryl enjoyed the taste of you, and his eyes never left yours as he pulled back a little, his hand roughly grabbing your chin. "Don’t ya fuckin' forget this," he growled, letting go of you and watching as you stumbled back onto the ground in front of him before he finally turned to leave. "Yer mine in ways ya don’t even understand yet."
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thinking about daryl giving you a nickname…
18+, mdni
AN: this was a midnight brain worm while i was working on something else, so just walk with me ok!
daryl wasn't really one for nicknames.
he'd never had one coming up, always just "daryl" or "merle's brother" or something else sneered and distasteful. that was fine with him. to daryl, nicknames were rooted in sarcasm and mean jokes.
it hadn't started any differently with you.
that day in the quarry way back, the morning after the walkers had attacked their people. daryl was already aggravated, sweaty and thinking about merle (alone and hurt and alone), and he didn't much like these fucking people anyway, so when you stood with glenn, insisting on a burial over burning, dried tear tracks on your face (those people were your people too. you were mourning with the rest of them), he didn't hold back, sneering "well ain't you just a fuckin' peach," and watching your face harden in the wake of his words.
daryl didn't mean for it to stick, but he found himself defaulting to the silly name anyway. first when he was annoyed at you. you were soft, unfit for the grime of this new world, then when he was poking fun, and eventually... something else.
in the cdc, with a hangover keeping you slumped over the table, "shoulda stayed out the bottle if ya couldn't handle it, peach."
over the long winter on the road, with barely any food or water, "keep up, peach, i ain’t gon’ carry you.”
in the prison, sharing shifts up in the watchtower (because you were sort of friends now) (because daryl felt almost rewarded when your eyes lit up at your nickname), "don't need to teach you on the bow, peach. you're just fine with a knife."
trapped in the train car in terminus, fussing over his injuries even though you could barely map him out in the dark, "peach. peach. quit it, ‘m alright."
the road to alexandria was long and brutal. 'peach' turned into your name and your name turned into silence. daryl was grieving, you were grieving, and the space between you felt like a chasm, dark and wide. finding that community was a blessing in disguise, not just for the group, but for you and daryl specifically. you came back together behind the walls, both unwilling to acclimate, but knowing you needed to try.
‘peach’ made its way back into circulation slowly and then so frequently that even the alexandrians began to catch on.
when daryl had to leave with aaron for a run, “later, peach. i’ll find ya after your shift.”
laughing over your assigned job, “the hell you know about gardenin’, peach? they shoulda put ya in the tower.”
inevitably your relationship shifted into something more intimate. it wasn’t a secret, hell, the group had seen it coming long ago.
‘peach’ stopped being a nickname and became a term of endearment. something daryl reserved for tender moments.
startling awake when daryl joined you in bed, late after a long run, “just me, peach, go back to sleep.”
when you came back from a run that turned dicey, a little worse for wear, “lemme see it, peach, i got ya.”
and in… other moments as well.
your body pressed firmly against daryl's, his lips a breath from yours, whispering, “tell me what ya need, peach. you know i’ll give it to ya.”
daryl laid between your legs, two fingers curling cruelly against your g-spot while you rode out your orgasm above him, “there ya go, peach, so fuckin’ good.”
daryl had never been one for nicknames, this fact held up even after the world ended. your own family was rarely on the receiving end of a playful moniker. but to him, ‘peach’ was easy as breathing and, to you, it sounded like “i love you” every time.
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Bodyguard
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive
Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone
Era: Season 1, the Quarry
Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...
The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.
Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.
He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.
"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.
"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.
You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.
He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.
"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.
He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.
"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.
He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."
"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.
---
Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."
He simply grunts in response.
Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.
When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.
He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.
You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."
"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.
"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."
You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.
"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.
As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.
You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.
"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.
The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.
"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.
He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.
When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.
You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.
You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.
"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"
You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.
"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.
Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.
"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.
You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.
You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."
You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.
A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.
You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.
"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."
And you grin.
---
Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.
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