In all of these fanfics the reader is on birth control and none of the characters have STDs because it's my perfect universe and creampies are the bomb dot com.
I don't like writing fics involving pregnancy or kids, but I'd be willing to if the idea is good enough.
Some fics will contain drug and alcohol use, but consent is never an issue in that aspect.
If you want to be added to my tag list, you can comment here, to make it more organized!
Summary: You finally get alone time with Daryl again, and this time he wants you to take control and show him what it's like to be under someone elses control.
Notes: Yay final chapter yay sub!Daryl yay edging Daryl until he cries!!!!
âYou should know by now I'm not going to judge you, Daryl. Just tell me."Â
He didn't answer at first, he just shifted in his chair and tapped his fingers once on the table in front of him before he stuffed his hands under his arms like heâd just realized how much heâd been fidgeting.Â
He still looked hesitant, but he gave in and muttered out a response. âThat time⊠yâknow. When I was the one⊠leadinâ.â His jaw flexed hard, and you could tell he thought just saying that was too much. âLiked it.â He admitted quietly. âLiked how you⊠listened. Let me take it.â
You were more than turned on at his words. It was one thing to indulge in your kinks, but to actually enjoy it? Heat shot through you at the words alone, but he was too busy staring at the wood grain in the table.Â
You tried not to swoon.Â
âIt was hot.â You agreed with a breathy laugh, nodding.Â
âYeah.â He sucked in his bottom lip before sighing, and drug a hand across his mouth. âBeen thinkinâ on it. Moreân I should.â
You felt your heart start racing.Â
He exhaled through his nose, clearly frustrated with himself. âGot me wonderinâ... what itâs like the other way around.â
You blinked, trying not to jump to conclusions. âThe other way around?â
His chin dipped. He avoided looking at you completely, his eyes locked on the table, the floor, anywhere but you, and he rubbed the back of his neck. âIf- hell, I dunno. If you were the one callinâ the shots.âÂ
It took everything in you not to jump up from the table and cheer like a goddamn ape, sling papers around the room and start flipping the furniture.
He winced like he was already expecting you to laugh. âJust⊠crossed my mind.â
âWith me in charge?â You clarified in a softer voice.Â
He finally glanced up at your eyes, and you could see how unsure he truly was to admit that to you.Â
Before he could retreat and talk his way out of it, you leaned in a little. âI think that would be really, really hot. You just tell me when.â
His mouth twitched, and it almost looked like he was about to smile, but he didn't. âAlright.â He murmured. âYeah. Okay.â
The time came sooner than you expected. The next day, in fact. Daryl had caught a glimpse of you changing in the farmhouse after a shower and decided his hunting trip could wait another day. He didn't say much, he just grabbed your arm on the way out with a rough grip, steering you towards his truck.
He didn't say much as he drove, but you knew where he was headed. The old library in town, it had this nice office youâd commented on days before, noting how comfortable the executive chair was in the office.Â
When you got there, you were pleased to find it walker-free. You wordlessly followed him through the small building, admiring the way he looked from behind with that ripped button-up showing every inch of his arms, muscles flexing as he held the crossbow over his shoulder.
The room was just as empty as you remembered, and the window in the back allowed for the evening sun to bathe the room in a warm amber glow. You watched him check the windows twice, and push a small desk in front of the door before you finally broke the silence.
âSit.â You nudged the executive chair towards him with your boot.Â
He eyed the chair for a moment before he relented and dropped into it with a grunt, his legs spread wide. Despite his attempt at relaxed posture, he was clearly tense. His gaze dropped to the floor, and his fingers began drumming on his knee.
âYou got any idea what yer doinâ?â He grumbled, his voice low and his cheeks already tinted a shade darker.Â
You'd been thinking about this since the second he told you he wanted to try it. Coming up with vivid daydreams about it: what he'd look like, sound like, the things you wanted to say and do to him- it interested you more than you could've ever expected. Vivid flashed of him under you, his guard finally fully dropped, letting himself go like youâd done for him in the tent that night.Â
There was no point in dragging it out too much. He looked like he might bolt at any second. You stepped forward between his knees, your hand beelining for his belt. He tensed up and his breath hitched, but he didn't stop you.Â
When you freed him from his jeans he let out a low, ragged groan, his head tipping back against the chair. Judging by that reaction, you assumed he must've been hard all the way over here.Â
The desire to tease him quickly overcame your need to have him inside you. You started slow, giving him a few easy strokes, your eyes locked on his face. His jaw clenched as he bit back those quiet, guttural sounds. You heard a few grunts deep in his chest, ones he was too stubborn to let out.Â
After a few seconds you amped it up. You increased pressure, squeezing him tighter, and twisted your wrist at the tip. You spat on your palm and got him nice and wet, so wet that the sounds of your fist on his cock filled the quiet room.Â
His breathing turned shallow and ragged, and his face flushed deeper as he finally relaxed. His eyes squeezed shut, he tilted his head back, and he was breathing through parted lips, his face flushed and his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.Â
Then you stopped.
His head lifted from the back of the chair, swaying slightly from the weight and the haze of inputted pleasure. It took his eyes a few seconds to focus on you. He furrowed his brows in a mix of confusion and frustration, but said nothing.Â
He shifted slightly, trying to subtly get more friction. âThe hell?â He rasped, breaking his silence..Â
You let a few seconds stretch on, and he attempted to push his hips up to get you to continue.Â
âWhat is it?â You hummed, your voice light with amusement.
âYaâ stopped.â He rasped, his exhale shaky and his voice rough.
âYeah, I did.â Your smug smile sent a wave of greed through him. He pushed up again, and you pulled your hand off of him.Â
Daryl sucked in a sharp breath, his entire body tensing, his fists clenching the arms of the chair so hard you could hear the leather squeak. âNo, m'sorry. Please.â
You grinned, tilting your head, and savored the moment. âPlease what?âÂ
He didn't want to say it, he knew damn well how desperate it would make him sound. You could practically smell the embarrassment coming off him in waves.Â
When you didn't make any move to resume pleasing him, he gave in, which wasn't very long after you questioned him. He caved in quicker than you thought he would.
âTouch me.â He muttered, grimacing at the words. When you didn't respond, he added much quieter, "Please.âÂ
You obliged, wrapping your fingers around the base of him again. He let out a low groan of relief, but the sound came out choked when you held still, refusing to do anything else but hold his cock in your hand.
He shot you a pained look, one that sent a wave of arousal pooling in your panties.
âYeah? What do you want, huh?â You teased, your voice soft but insistent as your fingers stayed still at the base..Â
âWanna-â he faltered, unable to believe he was actually enjoying it this much, âfeel ya, please, wan' taâ fuck ya.âÂ
You groaned quietly as you clenched around nothing at the raw edge in his plea. âThat's it. Sh-sh-sh.â You cooed as his face twisted in need, his eyebrows knitting together and lifting in the middle. âI'm gonna take care of you.âÂ
You peeled off your shorts and panties with a deliberate slowness, drawing it out just to watch his expression crumple further with every long second that dragged by. You set them on the table behind you, even taking an extra moment to neatly fold them, wanting to let the anticipation build as much as possible.
He nearly cried in relief when you slid in his lap and wrapped your hand around him again. You raised your hips enough to guide his tip through your folds, letting him feel how wet you were. He hissed, his head tipping forward until it hit your collarbone, as you lined him up with your entrance and started sinking down on him.Â
You'd fucked him what, how many times now? In the span of how many months? There was no reason you should be surprised at the sting from his impressive girth. After all, its not like you were fucking every day, sometimes youâd go weeks between intercourse. Of course you hadn't gotten used to it yet.Â
You moaned softly as he filled you, your hands flying to his shoulders. You sank your nails through the thin fabric of his shirt the way youâd learned he loved, even though heâd never admitted it outright. You could tell by the way another grunt passed his lips that it just did something for him. When you finally settled flush in his lap, his cock buried up to the hilt, you paused.
When he started giving those little grunts of complaint, you didn't hear. You were still too focused on relaxing enough for the sting to fade away.Â
You did hear him start verbally complaining though.
He even muttered your name.Â
Daryl had never used your name during sex before.Â
âPlease.â He breathed after it, his voice thick and strained. âNeed more.â
âShh,â you hushed him gently. You moved your hands from his shoulders to touch his face, petting his cheek with your left while you ran your fingers through his short hair. âGonna take care of you. Promise. But I'm taking care of myself first. Don't you wanna make me feel good?â
He swallowed hard as he nodded eagerly, his eyes flickering away before locking back on yours. âYeah. Yeah. Sâall I wanâ.â
You smiled at that, his sweet words tugging on your heart. It was hard to believe this was the same man that had choked you out and called you a dumb bitch back at the Greene farm.
Finally the sting dissipates, replaced with a deep and pleasurable feeling of fullness. You tossed your head back and began moving, slow and deliberate, wanting to draw out the initial feeling for as long as possible.Â
He seemed much larger like that, from above, with your full weight bearing down on him, driving him so deep it bordered on too much.Â
Daryl wasn't nearly as appreciative of your pace, and after giving a few complaining whines, he took matters into his own hands and thrusted up into you.Â
Not gentle either, he fucked up into you so hard you nearly fell off his lap. You probably would have if not for the way youâd been holding onto his shoulders.Â
âJesus!â You yelped, your eyes snapping open.Â
You wanted to chide him, tell him that was wrong, maybe punish him with even slower movements, but you weren't as naturally dominant as he was. If he was in charge he would've immediately pulled out and made you suck him off for a couple minutes for pulling something like that.Â
âSorry.â He breathed with a shift of his hips, not so subtly striving for more friction, and very clearly not sorry in the slightest. âDidn' mean taâ.â
You laughed breathlessly, shaking your head. âYou're a better liar than that.â
You didn't give him time to protest, if you heard him lie to you again you wouldâve lost it. You started moving again,your movements quicker than before, raising your hips until he almost slid out, and then letting gravity pull you back down.Â
You slowly rode him for a good minute until he finally made a move to take over.Â
He wrapped his ridiculously thick arms around you, looping his biceps under your armpits so he could grab your shoulders from behind to keep you pressed down tightly in his lap. He held you in place and ground up into you, driving his cock in as deep as it could go.
âYaâ feel sâdamn good.â He mumbled against the side of your face.Â
His lips planted warm and wet kisses on your jaw, moving to the spot under your ear, the spot he knew you loved, trying to please you enough that you'd overlook him grabbing you without asking. He started moving on his own, rolling his hips up into you with restraint, like a puppy slowly inching towards a steak someone left unguarded on the dining room table.
He succeeded in distracting you.Â
You moaned at the feeling of his lips on your neck, it complimented the jolts of pleasure from his dick plunging up into you. It was so much, the best you felt in so long, it nearly made you forget that you were supposed to be the one in charge.Â
Your eyes fluttered open and you leaned back to press your palms on his chest. âDaryl.â
âHuh?â He breathed as he continued his pace, not daring to look up at your eyes, like he already knew what you were going to say before you even said it.Â
âStop.â
The sound he let out had your heart breaking. It was a sound of agony and desperation, high and whiney in his throat.
He stopped moving though, and let himself fall against the back of the chair with a heavy plop. His eyes, half lidded and glossy, found yours, waiting desperately for you to speak, to say anything, and break the miserable silence.
âDon't move.âÂ
That wasnât what he wanted to hear. Helmet out a shaky breath through flared nostrils, but did as you asked.Â
You reached down for your slick clit, sparks of pleasure zapping the bundle of nerves as you began rubbing yourself. You put on a show, tossing your head back, pinching and rubbing your nipple with your free hand, and moaning as loud and as obscene as you wanted. This was his punishment. He could just sit there and watch you have the best time of your life on his cock without any input from his end.
Daryl couldn't move, even if you had allowed him to. He watched you with held breath, his eyes darting from your face to your chest, down to your fingers rubbing your clit, and then back up again.Â
Only after he instinctively went to touch himself did he realize he was still inside you. Deep inside you, and not allowed a nanometer of friction. He moaned softly, his dick twitching as he tried to somehow move inside you. He wouldn't dare risk rolling his hips again.
He weakly muttered your name and you tilted your head back down to look at him with half-lidded eyes. He swallowed hard at the sight of you like that, and forgot what he was going to say.
âHmm?â You hummed softly, your fingers quickening their pace. âWhat is it? Huh?â
âPlease.â He whispered. He found it surprisingly hard to look at you then, the teasing expression on your face sending his stomach twisting in knots. He was still so embarrassed. Â
âNoâŠâ you hummed, âI'm gonna cum, and then I'm gonna fuck you.âÂ
You were obviously close, he knew that as well as you did. His eyes lit up but you cut him off before he could speak.
âBut only if you stay very still. Think you can do that?â Your heart leapt at the look on his face. âIf you can't, I'll just get off right now and finish myself-â
âCan do it.â He nodded after swallowing, shifting under you, his tight shoulders flexing as he fought to compose himself. âYeah.â
âThaaat's my good boy.â
Daryl's groan hitched in his throat and his face flushed at the praise. No one had ever called him that before. No one. His dick twitched inside you, though he didn't make an attempt to move, and you found yourself extremely impressed with the man. Maybe he had more restraint than you originally thought, which was saying a lot.
He was a good boy, you weren't just saying that. He clearly was doing everything in his power not to take over and fuck you stupid. You'd been teasing him for what felt like hours, which was the complete opposite of the night in the tent when he'd given you everything you asked for.
Maybe it wasn't totally fair, but you just couldn't get enough of making him suffer like this. The way he was looking up at you was indescribable. You'd never felt that kind of power.
At one point, you swore his eyes looked wet.
You worked yourself up to your climax, which took very little effort, and he didn't move a muscle the entire time. He just stared up at you and let out the occasional pained moan, his lips parted, pulling in dry lungfuls of air.Â
âDaryl,â you gasped, forcing your eyes to open so you could look down at him, âI'm close, you can move-â
He didn't need to be told twice. His hands found their way to the sides of your chest, fingers digging into your ribs, and he held you tightly in place while he thrusted up into you at a quick and sloppy pace. It was so rough and harsh it knocked a yelp out of you, and you had to slam your hands down on his shoulders to once again keep from falling off of the mountain of a man.
âOh god!â You sucked in a sharp breath, arching your back as your orgasm washed over you. âOh, Daryl, fuck, so good, such a good boy for me, fuck-â
Daryl choked on a moan and buried his face in the side of your neck, his watery eyes and drooling mouth leaving damp spots against your skin. He'd never stop thinking about this, about this evening, about the way you praised and teased and called him that-
His hips jerked up and back in motions that left the both of you trembling, clutching onto each other as if you were the only things holding either of you down on earth.Â
âFuck, mammaâs-â Daryl moaned as he reached his high, pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses into your neck, âOh, gahdammn-âÂ
If you hadn't just fallen down from your high you would've come again from the sound of that word falling from his lips. That was unexpected, but oh god was it appreciated.
You dug your nails into his clothed back as you rolled your hips down in his lap, not caring that your actions fucked with his thrusts. They were sloppy and greedy anyway, maybe it would teach him another lesson.Â
Your movements continued, trying your best to draw out his orgasm for as long as possible, even when his hips stilled. Even when his moans of pleasure turned to breathy hisses of overstimulation.Â
After a few moments you finally stopped grinding against him. His head fell back against the chair in relief and he sighed, long and deep.Â
âI love how much noise you make.â You breathed between quick kisses on his sweaty throat, savoring the taste of salt on his skin. âY'sound so good.â
All he could manage was a sleepy âmhmmâ of compliance. His chest heaved heavily under yours, and after catching his breath he helped you up on your feet.Â
âHow'd you like it?â You asked. You were fully dressed now, just having finished buttoning your shorts as you watched him slip his tender dick back in his jeans.Â
Daryl glanced up to you. He was still in the chair, his legs in a state of jelly that prevented him from standing just yet. He rubbed a shaky hand over his mouth, his eyes darting back away from yours. âYeah.â
You bit your lip in an attempt to subdue the shit-eating grin that threatened to split across your face. âYeah isn't really an answer.â You stepped forward, nudging his boot with the tip of your foot, drawing his gaze back to you.
He inhaled deeply, his eyes tearing from yours to look towards the blinds on the windows. âLiked it a lot.âÂ
Ok, first of all... you're one of my favorite writers. I've read everything you've written! You're SO TALENTED! Second, could I possibly request a Daryl smut where reader is his neighbor or something (depending on the era) and her husband who was emotionally abusive towards her dies. She really likes Daryl but thinks no one likes her/she doesn't deserve anyone. Then one day she's changing in her room, and Daryl sees her through the window and thinks she's just become a widow, so flirting is probably not the best idea but he's still just standing there watching her and suddenly she sees him and doesn't shy away. And things happen? Even if you don't take requests, just want you to know you're so admired! Thanks for sharing your writings!
VERY INTERESTINK yes!!! I love this idea very very much! And thank you very much I'm so glad you like my stuff! <3
Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Whatever You Like Ch. 3
Warnings: NSFW, unprotected sex, road head, car sex, talk about rough sex, then rough sex, kinda crazy rough sex tbh, Daryl trying (and succeeding) at dirty talk, degradation, choking, biting, overstimulation
Summary: You give Daryl his first blowjob while he drives, and then take things a little further. And even further, when you ask him to be a little rough with you one night in his tent.
Notes: I love the magical world of fanfiction where my reader never gets pregnant and also STD's don't exist and we can all have sex with Dirty Daryl with no repercussions. ALSO sub!Daryl next chapter HOOOLY
A lot of drama prevented you from getting laid again for a while. That Rick guy arriving, Amy dying, yadda yadda. It led to a lot of driving and a lot of boredom.
 You were going to your new temporary home, a farm where Carl was healing at after being fucking shot. For most of the ride you sat in the RV with Shane and the Grimes family. Until eventually, the boredom got too much and you joined Daryl at the rear of the line of vehicles.Â
You'd never admit it to him, but you'd missed him. Being near him again, even if it was in the passenger seat of his truck, made you feel a lot better. It also made you unbelievably horny.Â
Maybe you could do something about it. No one was close enough to see. The dirt road was long and the car ahead was throwing up a thick cloud of dirt from its tires.Â
You glanced over at him. He had a cigarette pinched between his lips and he squinted against the smoke. He gripped the wheel with one scarred hand, the other tapping restlessly against his thigh to the quiet music playing from the stereo. He turned the music up a little before finishing the last drag and flicking it out the window.Â
You glanced down to his lap. The worn fabric of his jeans strained just a hint, enough to spark that bold itch you'd been scratching since that first night in his tent.Â
âEyes on the road.â You murmured, your voice low as your hand moved into his lap, your fingers brushing against the seam on the inside of his thigh.Â
He sucked in a breath sharp through his teeth, his eyes darting from the rearview mirror to you. âThe fuck you doinâ? We ain't- shit.âÂ
His free hand clamped your wrist, but he didn't pull or push you away, he just held you, his fingertips rough against your pulse.Â
You leaned in, slowly unbuckling yourself. âDeals a deal. We agreed we could try anything. I wanna try this.â You popped open his buckle and unbuttoned his jeans.Â
He was already hard from your few seconds of attention, his length hot and thick, throbbing in your hand after you freed him. His breath hitched in his throat before he growled. âYerâ fuckinâ crazy, woman.â
âKeep driving.â You leaned over and took him in your mouth, your lips sealing around the tip, your tongue flicking across the precum smeared tip.Â
âGoddamnit.â He cursed low, his head thunking against the head rest behind him. His foot stayed steady on the gas somehow, only jolting when you swirled your tongue around the tip.
You hollowed your cheeks and sucked slow on the head before sliding down deeper, pulling a ragged groan from his chest. His hand flew to your hair and grabbed a white-knuckled fistful of it. âSlow. Gonna make me flip this fuckinâ truck.â His hips twitched up, chasing the heat of your mouth.Â
You hummed around him, taking him in deeper, drawing a hiss through his gritted teeth.Â
He was unraveling fast; shallow breaths heaving in his chest, the truck's speed ticking up a notch before he cursed and eased off.Â
You pulled off of him with a sharp pop and sat upright. He looked at you like you'd just kicked a puppy, brows knitted together, jaw dropped as his dick twitched against his shirt. The truck swerved slightly as his foot faltered on the pedal.Â
âWh-â he didn't have time to finish the word before you were unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down a few inches. You threw a leg over his lap in the tight cab and climbed in his lap, taking a moment to get comfortable against him, your back pressed flush against his chest.Â
You felt his warm body beneath and behind you. He was tense all over.Â
You only noticed then that the dusty road in front of you was almost empty. He'd been driving behind them so slowly that you couldn't even see them anymore, the dust too thick, them too far ahead.Â
âWait- fuck, gonna crash this damn thing.â He growled, his eyes darting between you in his lap and the road ahead.Â
You didn't wait, though. You braced one hand against the dash and leaned up, reaching through your thighs to guide him inside you. You sank down slow and deliberate, savoring the way he gasped and sped back up.Â
Inch by inch, you tortured the man until you bottomed out, your ass sinking into his lap. You let out a long moan of satisfaction. There in his truck you didn't need to be quiet. You could be as loud and carefree as you wanted, you could make all the sounds you knew he got off on hearing.Â
The second you clenched around him and ground your hips you felt the switch. His stunned worry shattered like glass, replaced by feral hunger.Â
âGoddamn- fuckinâ take it then.â He snarled, his accent thick as he gripped your hip with one hand and the wheel with the other. âGreedy bitch.â
You pushed on your feet and held yourself up above him while he bucked up; once, harsh and quick, then again, setting a brutal rhythm from below, the truck jolting forward with each snap of his hips pressing the gas a little more. You ground down to meet him, holding yourself up until your arms shook and you had to let yourself sink back down into his lap.Â
âHold âer for me.â He huffed and let go of the wheel to grab your waist. He lifted you a few inches and pounded up into you, holding you up by your hips like you weighed nothing. You bit down against the leather wheel and moaned, the sound choppy from the force of his thrusts.Â
His cock dragged deep on every drop, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur and your fingers squeeze the steering wheel. He dropped you back down and your back fell against his with a soft thud.Â
Sweat slicked your skin from your back pressed against his chest, your bodies warm and damp through shirts, his heartbeat thrumming against your spine.Â
A hand roamed up your side, his movements smooth and confident, like it was his own body he was touching and not someone else's. He slid up to your breast, pinching your nipple through the fabric of your shirt, the other slipping between your thighs to rub at your clit with relentless circles, his hips lazily grinding up against you.
You moaned as his fingers rubbed quicker and firmer. You arched your back, letting your head fall back against the headrest for a few seconds before you forced yourself to look at the road again. âMmm-oh fuck.â
âYeah, âats it. Keep that purty mouth open. Let me hear it all.âÂ
His head tipped back as you rolled your hips down on him, and he allowed himself to close his eyes for a few seconds as you steered.Â
âDaryl.â You panted, clenching around him as his fingers stalled on your clit. âDon't stop, please don't stop, I-â you choked on your words as his fingers picked back up and brought out your orgasm.Â
The feeling of you clenching around him was it for him. He growled and wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling your body back with him as he leaned back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He tightened his grip and began pounding up into you again as his orgasm approached.Â
âI can't-â you cried, your hands shaking loosely on the wheel. âDaryl I can't-âÂ
âLet go, I got it. That's it.â He breathed against your skin, his eyes narrowed on the road ahead, his knee replacing your hold on the steering wheel. He held it straight with both knees as you grabbed onto his arm and bucked against his fingers.Â
âDaryl, oh my fucking god!â You whimpered, your head thumping back beside his against the headrest.Â
âGoddamn.â He panted, bucking up as he spilled inside you. He bit down against the back of your neck and groaned, loud and unfiltered, his hips rocking without rhythm under you. He finished with a long and gutteral âFuck.âÂ
The truck swerved again and he laughed, raw and choked as he straightened it back out. âLook.â He grunted, his left hand slipping up to grip the wheel. You followed his finger and saw the blue sedan ahead of you slowly coming back into view. âThere they are.âÂ
You nodded and swallowed hard, still trying to blink away the blur in your eyes. âThought we lost them.â You breathed.Â
âNext time,â he muttered as he gave one last weak roll of his hips, making sure every last drop of him was in you, âMâstoppinâ the truck. Gonna make yaâ forget yer name.âÂ
That night you met him by the far end or the fence around the Greenes farm property. Everyone was getting settled again, and you had a moment to breathe and speak.Â
âAint there anythin' ya wanted to try?â Daryl muttered around his cigarette, watching the fireflies light up the quiet field. You looked away from the field to watch him instead.
âLike what?â
He shrugged, his eyes darting down to look at you for a second before they flew back to the cow field. âDunno. First night ya said we could try stuff we always wanted taâ. Sâthere anythin'?â
âWellâŠâ you trailed off. You were worried asking him to indulge you in your interests would throw him off, given he'd been relatively tame so far.
âI like it a little rough, sometimes.âÂ
Not just âa littleâ. Far from it.Â
âThat it?â His chuckle caught you off guard, and so did his further teasing. âWhat, wan' me to pull your hair?â
âYeah, basically⊠Hair pulling, biting, yeah. But, you know, maybe some, uh⊠choking, spitting, slapping,â you mumbled, not noticing the way his eyes widened, âMaybe some degrading. I've always wanted to try being tied up. Like, completely immobile.â
âChoking?â He repeated, unsure if he heard you correctly. âAnd slapping? Ya wanâ someone to hit yaâ?â The way he fully enunciated the words made your stomach flip.
âI wanna see how it feels. Saw it in porn a few times and it always looked hot.â You shrugged and turned to face him. âWe don't have to if you don't wanna. Just listing things I've thought about-â
âNah, said I'd be down for anythin'. I meant it.â He cut you off after taking a deep drag from his cigarette. âJus' don't go cryin, or some shit- after I do it.â
âUhâŠâ You laughed awkwardly. You rocked on the balls of your feet. âI mean. Crying is pretty hot. Right?âÂ
Daryl stared at you for a few silent seconds.Â
You groaned internally and looked away. âOooookay.â
âIt can be. Dunno.â He simply shrugged and looked away. He took a quick puff and muttered again. âMaybe.âÂ
You had a feeling Daryl would be great at rough sex, but you had no idea how great. After he got used to it he began thoroughly enjoying his new role. If it was anyone else it would've been too much, but it was you, and you loved it.Â
So, in turn, he loved it.
A few nights later he'd come home from looking for Sophia. You'd made a comment along the lines of âif im too distracting we can put this on pause until you find herâ, and you'd never seen the man shake his head so fast.Â
âSâfine.â He muttered, following you into his tent after double checking no one had seen you slip in. It was late, everyone was already getting in their tents. His little camp was so far away from the rest of the camp that he doubted they'd be able to make you out even if they were looking.Â
âYa'aint a distraction.â He zipped up the flap behind him and turned to face you. His eyes widened when he saw you were taking your shirt off. âHuh. Shit.â
You grinned and laid back against his pile of blankets and pillows. They still smelled like the house's closet, stale but clean.Â
âYou were saying?â You teased, tapping the side of your foot against his knee.Â
âWhat?â He furrowed his brows and looked back up to your face.
You giggled and shook your head. âNevermind. Come here.â You reached your arms out and he crawled forward, not needing to be told twice.Â
âSo, uh, tell me again what yaâ wanted?â Daryl grunted as he tugged your shorts down your thighs. It was always so endearing the way he needed to clarify your desires to a T, worried about saying or doing the wrong thing. He was still so nervous.Â
You lifted your hips to help him take them off, and watched with baited breath as he spread your legs to kneel between them. âI don't want you to be gentle.â You exhaled, biting your lip as he slid a calloused hand up the inside of your thigh. His fingers were clean from washing them inside, he'd even scraped the dirt and blood out from under them.Â
âChrist.â He muttered under his breath as he slid his thumb through your folds and felt how wet you were. He rubbed it around your clit a few times before pushing a finger inside you. You gripped the blanket beneath you with both hands and shifted your hips.Â
He tested the waters with a swift curl, more force behind it than the night in your tent. Once he saw your eyes roll back he set a quick pace, curling and twisting his finger in ways he couldn't believe felt good to you, unaware that your walls were far less sensitive to pain than his dick.Â
He leaned up, pressing the heel of his palm onto your mound, applying pressure to keep your hips still as he worked your insides with that single beautiful finger.Â
âTah-â you gasped, pushing down into his hand, â-talk tâme, please.â
His movements became less precise as he fought to think of something to say.Â
He'd only heard men talking dirty in porn, and you'd already told him that porn talk wasn't all that hot, âtake it, yeah, take my big fat cock/who owns this pussyâ for example.Â
âWhaâ do I say?â He whispered.Â
âTell me what you're gonna do to me, what you wanna do to me.â You tried to sound reassuring despite the slowing finger in your pussy.Â
He grunted, his brows still furrowed. He looked frantically around the tent as he thought. âGonna- uh⊠fuck yaâ real hard, like yaâ asked.â He paused, looking down at you for approval with a red neck. âThat⊠that what ya' need?âÂ
âMhm.â You nodded quickly. âI need it so bad.â
He nodded once, looking down at your pelvis. He curled his finger again and swiped his thumb over your clit, drawing a soft whimper from your lips. You rolled your hips, trying to urge him to continue, and took a deep breath.Â
âLook so fuckin' good under me like this.â He breathed. His fingers returned to their original pace, and he had you moaning and panting again in seconds.Â
âThis⊠pussy-â he whispered the second word, blushing at the way it sounded, â-sâgrippinâ me so tight. Like it doesn't wanna let me go. Shit- makes me wanna⊠pin ya down and hold ya there. Like a⊠a buck I need to finish off.â
You gasped. If you weren't so horny you might've giggled, but the tone of his voice and the way he was curling his finger inside you had you clenching around it.Â
He gave something else a try, remembering you'd specifically mentioned the word âdegradingâ. âLook so good. Right where a dumb bitch like yaâ sâposed taâ be.â He put emphasis on the curse in a way that sounded almost venomous.
Hearing the words âdumb bitchâ come from Daryl Dixon while he had his finger inside you broke the little self respect you had.Â
âMmm, please.â You moaned, clutching at his other bicep, too far gone. âNeed it now, please.â
He was easily falling into the role you asked of him from seeing you like that. You were embarrassingly needy after just two minutes of his finger. His fucking finger did this to you. It was an insane boost to his ego and confidence.
âAnâ what if I dunâ give it to ya, huh?â Even he was surprised at the words coming from his mouth. âWhat then? Yâgonna cry? Pretty girl gonna cry? Beg?â He sneered, working his fingers faster.Â
Your head spun. All you could do was nod dumbly, your jaw hanging open and your face twisting in pleasure as he fondled your insides.Â
âSpeak. Lemme hear it. If you wanâ it so bad, then work for it.âÂ
âPlease Daryl! Ooh, pleeeease,â you moaned, âplease put it in please, want it so fucking bad.â You sucked in a breath. âI need you, please, I need you to fuck me. Please please please please-â
If anyone other than Daryl heard you mewling like that, they'd instantly think you were the most pathetic whore on earth. The shameless way you were moaning like you were getting paid for it would legitimately send them into a state of shock.Â
Daryl ate that shit right up though. He'd never heard anything like that. And definitely never directed at him.
He was ripping his dick out of his jeans before you could say another word, barely giving himself a few quick strokes before lining up to your entrance.
You panted in relief and wiggled your hips against his tip impatiently. You were truly unprepared for how much you'd like this type of sex. It had started as a curiosity, and now here you were, falling apart for him.Â
âQuit yer damn squirminâ.â He grunted and placed his heavy hands on your hips, holding you in place against the blanket beneath you.Â
A surge of pleasure rocked your core, letting you know that you also did enjoy being immobile.
âHnnn, god.â You whined. You were fully prepared to start begging again before he started pushing in, finally alleviating your burning ache, replacing it with a much better burning stretch.
âThaaat's it.â He drawled after sinking into you fully. Your walls were just as greedy as you, pulling him in deeper and squeezing him when he pulled back out. He let out a strained grunt at the feeling, suddenly grateful that he'd jerked off before meeting you outside.Â
âLemme hear it all. Lemme hear yaâ.â He pushed in again, his tip bumping against that spot deep within you and making a moan burst from your lips. He lowered his upper half to rest on his elbows, his pelvis rolling forward in steady movements.Â
âFeels so good Daryl.â You clenched around him, earning a growl against your ear in return. âNever felt like this before.â
âHm.â He grunted. âWhaddya want, huh? Tell me.â
Your head fell back against the blanket again after he gave a swift thrust. âOh, god, I don't- choke me, please.â
He'd been waiting for that.Â
Propping himself up on his left elbow, he placed his right hand over your throat. He applied the smallest amount of pressure, just enough to feel your pulse throbbing under his fingertips. Your poor heart was racing. He unintentionally tilted his head as he looked down at you.Â
âHarder, please.â The request was so quiet that he barely heard it. You covered his hand with your own and squeezed, desperately trying to get him to oblige you.Â
There was slight hesitation, and only for a second, and then he gave in. He flexed his fingers and squeezed, waiting a few beats to hear your whimpers increase, and then he really squeezed.Â
You saw stars. His dick was rapidly approaching a brutal pace inside you, his pelvis slapping obscenely against your ass, filling the tent with sounds of sweaty skin on skin that made you blush. He was choking in that specific way that hugged the sides of your throat and cut off blood to your head.Â
You were impressed. You'd half expected him to strangle you the way you knew he'd done in fights countless times before and make you pass out.Â
He dipped down to kiss your open lips, and growled when you eagerly kissed back. He pushed his tongue past your teeth and swirled it around your own, overcome by the need to taste every inch of you.Â
You moaned something in his mouth, and he had to pull back to understand.Â
âBite-â you huffed, âme.â
The way he was so eager to please you was a turn on all on its own. He immediately fulfilled your request, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and biting down.Â
You sucked in a gasp through your nose, wrapping your fingers in his hair and tugging as another wave of pleasure ebbed through you.Â
He nearly got carried away. He bit your skin behind your jaw, your neck, anywhere he could reach, failing to notice how hard he'd begin choking you.Â
The pressure in your face and head combined with his jerky thrusts was more than you could handle, and when he shifted his hips closer to yours and ground against your clit, you came.
âFuck!â You gasped, clutching onto his hair for dear life.Â
Despite knowing what it felt like to have you cum around his dick, it still shook him to feel it again for the third time. His eyes clenched tightly shut and he rammed into you, over and over until his body trembled and his jaw ached from how hard he'd been biting the dip in your neck.Â
Each time Daryl made you come was better than the last.Â
This time it was crippling. You spasmed around the dick he had stuffed inside you, crying out with a long whine.Â
His grip on your throat tightened as he spilled himself down inside you, cutting your sounds of ecstasy short. His thrusts slowed, but they didn't stop, not until you were a babbling mess of overstimulated nerves and cum.Â
âToo much, sâtoo much, stop.âÂ
âShut up.â He growled with a quick thrust, one that had the opposite effect. âQuit bein' a baby.âÂ
Your hips jerked against his touch, rough fingers on your clit, rubbing mercilessly, too much, too sharp, but his body pinned yours to the blanket.Â
âTake it- fuckinâ take it.â He growled against your ear, his other hand sliding down to pinch and pull at your nipples. He thrusted again, harder, jerking your body against the blanket. âSâwhat yaâ wanted, right? S'what yaâ asked for. Gonna make yaâ cry for me, that's right. C'mon girl. C'mon.â
Tears pricked at your eyes as he continued his ruthless assault, fingers rubbing your burning clit, your aching nipples, his teeth nipped and bit at your neck and shoulders, his cock dragged in and out of your fluttering walls.Â
âGâna fill this pussy.â He muttered, his hot breath fanning your red neck. âOh, yeah. That's it. Take it. Take it all. Take this dick.â
You crumpled under him.Â
Where'd he learn that? Porn? Or did he make it up on the spot?
Half porn, half imagination. Daryl was a lot smarter than he let on. He was a quick learner, too.Â
He snapped his hips forward, fucking you into the blanket with a hand over your mouth as your nosies grew louder. His other hand brought another orgasm out of you, and you came around him, clawing and keening into his palm as he fucked you through it.Â
Daryl groaned against your neck, his thrusts speeding up and growing sloppy as he chased his own pleasure. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling the scent of the shampoo Beth had given you. You smelled so pretty, so soft, so feminine. It was such a contrast to his dirty manly musk. He groaned again and came inside you, coating your walls with his second load, his pace relentless even through his climax.Â
You were trying to catch your breath when he started moving his hips again.
âOh-â you choked, pushing at him, âno- Daryl, I can't-â
âShh.â He rolled his hips again, lazy but deep. âSâall right. Just lay there.â
Only after driving home his point of being able to do whatever he wanted with you did he show mercy. His torturous thrusts ceased, and he spent a few motionless seconds inside you before pulling out.Â
You let out a trembling exhale of relief. The empty feeling he left you with was disappointing, even though you realistically knew you'd start sobbing if he put it back in.Â
âYou okay?â
You forced your eyes open, trying to find him in your bleary fog. He looked so jarringly different, his eyes soft, full of concern and worry, his facial features much more bright.Â
You swallowed dryly and nodded. You reached up to push your sweaty hair away from your face. âWas so good. You're amazing.â
He let out a breathy chuckle, dropping his head in relief. âGood. Yâliked it? Not too much?â
âOh, god yes. I loved it. It wasn't too much at all. Was perfect. So fucking hot.â
He inhaled deeply and nodded, his head still hanging as he caught his breath.Â
I miss this Daryl era where he was all sassy and actually spoke in full sentences so much. (also the way he slurs everything is so hot? that drawl omfg??? "go ahead if ya gotta" ON MY KNEES!!!!!!!!!!)
welcome back omg you wont beleive how many people ive told to read ur fics if they liked daryl
OMG thank you!! I'm glad to be back im obsessed with Daryl again it feels like getting back together with the love of your life after years of not seeing them đ time to rewatch twd
Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Whatever You Like Ch. 2
Warnings: NSFW, dry humping, intercourse, loss of virginity, unprotected sex
Summary: Daryl makes a habit of visiting you every time he gets horny, eager to take you up on your 'we can try anything' deal.
Notes: This chapter has two of my favorite things: dry humping and sex.
You came to learn that Daryl Dixon was a very horny man now that he'd tasted what being with another person could feel like.Â
Very horny.Â
Since he'd started crossing the barrier of awkward firsts with you, he was growing more and more comfortable. It was slow, barely noticeable, though you noticed nonetheless. He used to look away before you had the chance to catch him staring, and now he was staring shamelessly. You'd not only catch him staring, but sometimes when you did, he'd throw you a small little smirk.Â
âC'mon.â He'd thrown a bag in your lap and nodded over his shoulder towards his truck. âFound a house, looks untouched. Gonna go check it out.â
Lori and Amy gave you questioning looks as you got up from the campfire. You just shrugged and smiled, knowing you'd be bombarded with questions later. Why did he ask you? When did you two start talking? Be careful around him sweetie, those Dixon boys are no good.Â
The house wasn't untouched. It was practically barren. The fact he'd so blatantly lied to get you alone sent a giddy jolt through your chest. Daryl Dixon, lying to your face like it was nothing. How oddly endearing.
The white curtains in the living room blew softly in the wind, most of the windows were cracked open, providing fresh air through the house. You walked around the large room, eyeing the empty cabinets and tables. It was so empty it looked like a show house. You double checked the drawers as Daryl secured the front door. He went to do a quick check through the rest of the house to make sure no dead folk had snuck in while he was gone.Â
When he came back into the living room he didn't say anything. He just looked at you with this uncertain expression and waited for you to notice.Â
You raised a brow and turned to fully face him. "Untouched, huh?"
A small, shaky little grin spread on his lips. He gave a little shrug, glanced at the couch, and then back to you. "That is."
You couldn't get on the couch fast enough. He was on you before your back could reach the cushions, his hands tugging and pulling at your shirt, his knees pushing your legs apart.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and sighed, grateful for the pressure between your thighs, and the sound he let out nearly made you choke.
âYou miss me?â You joked, though your voice was strained. You'd missed him. You missed his smell- dirt, musk, burnt tobacco and a constant faint smell of faded deodorant. You missed his body, large and firm beneath your hands. You slid them up his firm biceps and hummed at the feeling of his smooth skin under your hands. His upper arm skin was so smooth compared to his rough hands.
âShut up.â He muttered between messy kisses on your neck. His hands on your thighs spread you wider, making more room for him, his grip tight and firm and less than gentle. He softly pressed his dick against you again and cursed under his breath.
It was the second time he'd pressed his dick against anyone, let alone against the clothed cunt of someone who wanted to fuck him too. The first time being that night in his tent, and the second here, on the dusty couch of some dead persons ransacked home.
It was such a new and intense sensation that he couldn't help but groan. It sounded pained, a deep and low groan deep in his chest, ending with a long and dry exhale.
He craved more, so he ground against you again, achingly gentle.Â
âOh, please Daryl.â You let out a needy whine, letting your head rest back against the couch cushion beneath you.Â
He grunted and gave a long and hard grind, drawing a low moan from your lips.Â
âLike that?â He sounded like he genuinely wanted to know.Â
âMhm.â You nodded quickly, angling your hips up to get more friction.Â
You expected him to rush. Yank your clothes off and shove his dick in dry. He did the complete opposite, not even making an attempt to fully remove any of your clothes.Â
He was content to dry hump you to completion, apparently.Â
âShit.â He hissed, giving another roll of his hips. Each sound you made fueled his drive, his movements grew more intense, adding more pressure until you came.
You came. Just from grinding.Â
âOh, oh f-fuck-â You gasped. You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, tugging his upper half down on you to smash your lips against his.Â
He kissed back eagerly, pressing his hips tighter against yours and swallowing the long moan that left your lips.Â
He broke the kiss to suck in a breath of surprise. His eyes ran over your body, and he quickly reached down your sides to pull your shirt up. The sight of your chest took his breath away. He devoured you with his eyes before leaning down to grab your right breast with his hand and your left with his mouth.Â
You gasped again and reached up to run your fingers through his short hair. It urged him on and he sucked around your nipple, teeth grazing in a way that made you whimper and groan. His fingers pinched your other one, and his hips moved quicker between your thighs.Â
Suddenly he pulled his mouth off your chest and groaned. With the way you'd wiggled against his dick from the intensity of your orgasm, he quickly followed suit, hunching over you and humping frantically until he was whimpering like a beat dog in your ear.Â
âMmm-oh goddamn, yer s-so pretty, so good. Fuck!âÂ
âHoly shit.â You panted. Your hands left their spot on his shoulders to glide against his head, where he laid with his face buried in your neck.Â
âHmm.â He groaned weakly, not bothering to move.Â
âYou're so fucking hot.â
He never really spoke about your deal verbally.Â
He'd just throw you this specific look, nod over his shoulder, and you'd come running. This happened several times. He'd fingered you against the back side of the RV one night, you'd given him a handjob down in the quarry, and you'd dry-fucked him in the driver's seat of his truck several times. You don't know why you hadn't fucked yet, you just hadn't. Maybe he was too nervous. Maybe he wasn't nervous at all and he was just enjoying the thrill and fantasies before he felt it for real.
The night it happened was just like any other night, there was nothing special about it. There was no planning, no silent agreement, it just happened.
You were sitting next to Markus at the fire during dinner. He made a comment about you still looking like a model in the apocalypse, you laughed and blushed, and Daryl picked up his crossbow and stalked off towards the woods. He didn't even finish his can of peaches. Merle laughed giddily as he snatched the can from the dirt and dug into it.
The only reason you followed him was because he looked at you over his shoulder before slipping through the trees. He didn't throw you âthe lookâ, but it still sent butterflies through your chest, so you got up and excused yourself after downing the rest of your pineapple juice from the warm can.Â
It was risky, walking through the woods at night without a light or someone with you, you knew that. You knew where Daryl was heading though, and you knew he wasn't far ahead. If you screamed he'd come running and be at your side in seconds.Â
âHey.â You whispered, ducking to avoid a branch as you reached him. You adjusted your tank top, trying to distract you from the excitement in your chest.
âHey.â He muttered. His face illuminated in orange for a second as he lit a cigarette, his eyes on you. He flicked the lighter shut and stuffed it back in his pocket.Â
You were in that familiar small clearing a few yards past the woodline. It was open, the ground covered in lush grass, with a fallen tree at the other side. You'd given him a handjob here several times. He was leaning against the same tree he always leaned on when he received said handjobs.Â
You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. Thankfully the sky was clear and the moon was bright, you were able to see most of the small clearing and Daryl standing in it.Â
âYou wanna fool around?â You murmured with a small smirk on your lips, stepping forward until you were right in front of him.
He took a deep pull from his cigarette, the cherry glowing brighter for a few seconds before dimming as he stopped inhaling. âThe hell are you doin' with me?â
You paused, looking over his face. It was too dark to properly read his expression, but from what little you saw, he looked skeptical.Â
âBlowing off steam. What's it look like?â You said simply.Â
He hummed, taking another long drag. He watched you as he blew it out, his eyes raking over your body. âY'know I'm not your boyfriend, right?â
You rolled your eyes and smirked wider. âYes, Daryl. I know you're not my boyfriend. Now, do you want to do something or not?â
He exhaled a lungful of smoke before he ground it out against a tree and stuffed it back in his pack. âWhatever. Still in for the next part? âFore I change my mind.â
The next part? Did he mean sex? Your eyes widened. Up until now he'd seemed content with using hands.Â
âYes.â You didn't know what you were agreeing to. It didn't matter. You'd do anything with him.
The roughness in him faded then, his expression softened and so did his voice. âCâmere then.â He murmured, standing up straighter against the tree.Â
You smiled and stepped forward, closing the gap between you. He kissed you first, which always caught you off guard. Daryl loved kissing, he always had his mouth on you every way he could. Your lips, your neck, your stomach, your tits, any inch of skin his mouth could reach. He kissed you softly but with a heat that made your stomach flip. His fingers pulled at the hem of your shirt and slipped under it, his touch warm and fingertips rough.Â
âAin't got a condom.â He muttered against your lips as his feverish hands pushed higher up your shirt. âS'fine, right? Jusâ won't finish in ya.âÂ
So he did mean sex. Your heart raced. âIt's fine.â You nodded, stealing another kiss from his open lips. âYou don't need to pull out.âÂ
He pulled back to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his lips still parted for air. âYa âaint worried? Wha- won't you-â
âI've got like three more years of this birth control.â You tapped your bicep, taking the moment of reprieve to catch your breath. âI wanna make the most of it.â
He let out a soft groan, his eyes fluttering shut at your words, and smashed his lips against yours again. He wasn't gentle anymore, all stubble and teeth with his tongue in your mouth, stealing your breath away. You met his intensity, groaning in his mouth and tugging at his belt buckle.Â
Daryl turned you around and let out a shaky breath, backing you up against the tree until your spine met the large oak.Â
You yanked your shirt over your head, leaving it on a nearby branch in case a cockblock in the form of a groaning dead man decided to show up. He fumbled with his belt and pants, only bothering with unbuckling and unzipping enough to pull his dick out.Â
You felt it hot and heavy against your lower stomach, the thick tip smearing precum over your skin as you tugged down your shorts just enough.Â
He didn't waste time. He grabbed onto your hips and spun you around, pressing you forward until your chest brushed against the tree. Your heart pounded at the new position, around the trunk you could see the campfire through the forest ahead and the people sitting around it, but you couldn't see Daryl behind you or what he was doing.Â
His thighs bracketed yours and his hand slipped between them to spread you just enough. A calloused finger ran between your folds and he let out a shaky breath at the feeling.Â
âYâswear yaâaint always like this?â He muttered as he swirled his fingertip around your clit just like he'd done dozens of times before.Â
âI swear.â You laughed quietly, biting your lip in anticipation. âYou just really turn me on.â
âJesus-â He let out another shaky breath and pressed his forehead against the nape of your neck, his drawl slurring as he aligned himself at your entrance, his tip nudging between your folds. âYou- hell.â
âFuck.â You whispered. You pressed your cheek against the trunk of the tree and arched slightly, trying not to moan when he started pushing in. âOh, slow, Daryl- shit.â
He nodded as if you could see him and continued pushing, albeit slower. You reached under yourself and helped guide him in with impossibly steady fingers.Â
It burned, of course it did. It had been a really long time. You bit down harder on your lip and grabbed onto the tree, fingers digging into the bark as he dug into you. Once his tip popped through the rest followed with a bit more ease. You could tell by the way his body shook behind you that he was trying not to ram the rest of the way into you.Â
Once he was in he let out a low groan, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, muffled quickly against your shoulder as you both stilled to savor the moment. It suddenly occurred to you that he was losing his virginity to you. You bit your lip to stifle a moan and clenched around him at the thought.Â
He tried to speak, to curse, to gasp, but nothing came out. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in the crook of your neck and gripped onto your hips tighter.
He pulled halfway out, his breath hot at your ear. He was trying so hard not to come. He pushed back in, his breath trembling harder. You held your breath and shifted your feet slightly. Now it was you trying not to push back into him with impatience.Â
After a few beats he set a rhythm that left you breathless. He was pounding into you, quick, harsh, greedy and void of any thought. Daryl was long gone, his body had completely taken over, he was lost in his own pleasure and he wouldn't stop until he found it. It was like his brain had been shut off and all that energy went to his dick.
He huffed against your ear and humped against you like a dog, letting out the occasional grunt and groan when you clenched around him. "Goddamnit."
A particularly rough thrust pulled a loud groan from your throat.Â
âQuiet.â He rasped, half-growl half-plea as he planted messy kisses against the side of your neck, hot breath fanning your skin. One hand splayed over your lower stomach, keeping you pressed tight against him, the other gripping your hip, his thumb digging in as he angled deeper.Â
âFuck.â He groaned against your skin, his movements growing sloppy. âFeels⊠too good.â His voice cracked against your ear, the raw sound sent a jolt through your body.Â
His thrusts grew wilder, shorter, harder, he was close. He'd lasted longer than you expected.Â
âDaryl-â you whispered, pushing back against him to meet his thrusts, â-you feel so good. You're making me feel so fucking good.â You drew out the praise, knowing how much he liked it. How much he craved it.
âOh.â He suddenly choked, burying himself deep and spilling hot inside you. His body practically vibrated against your sweaty back as he came. âGoddamn.â Another choked curse slipped through gritted teeth.Â
He shook against you, his heavy body pinning you against the tree as he recovered from his orgasm. You were spent too, your body hot and shaky despite not reaching your own climax. You didn't even care, you felt too good. It very well may be the best sex you'd ever had up at that point in time.Â
For a few more moments he held you there as his breathing slowed. Only when he was fully soft did he pull himself back out with a hiss.Â
âGoddamn.â He repeated breathlessly, zipping his pants with trembling fingers. âThat- sh- goddamn.â
You smiled to yourself as you put your shirt back on and fixed your hair. âWas that good?â
He didn't answer with words. He let out a gruff laugh, the sound foreign to both of you. That was a clear, âyes, you dumbass.â Loud enough to be unfiltered, but not so loud that the rest of the group heard. You watched him relight the cigarette and found yourself smiling.Â
He tried to speak, his mouth open but he just stuttered on a string of words. He jerked his head towards the campfire, signaling for you to go back.
You were going to start walking, but then you heard it. He took a step and stumbled. His knees had given out. He sucked in a gasp and stumbled down to the ground, hands flying out to try to grab onto anything.
"Oh, shoot." You whispered as you moved on autopilot to try and help him. "You okay? What happened?"
"M'fine." He hissed. He took a deep breath and sat upright. "Jus' need a minute."
You looked over him, your eyes calculating and worried, and then your heart leapt as you understood.
His knees were jelly. The poor boy had so much taken out of him, he couldn't walk yet.
You moved to sit down next to him in the grass. You didn't say anything, you just sat there beside him and caught your breath. The sound of crickets and frogs filled the silence, which helped your heart rate slow down. It was calming. Being there with him, away from all those people, was calming.
You looked over at him and felt your throat tighten. He was already looking at you, and his eyes were so soft it made your heart ache.
Daryl instinctively flinched when you reached out and brushed your fingers through his hair. It took him a moment to relax, and even closed his eyes when you caressed his cheek and rubbed your thumb over his sweat-damp skin.
He was sweet post-orgasm. He leaned into your palm and inhaled deeply. You scooted closer and rested your head against his shoulder, your hand sliding down his face to rest on his thigh.
Neither of you said anything. You just enjoyed the chemicals coursing through your bodies that made you feel like you were in love for the next few minutes.
SHANE JUMPSCARE RAHHHH
(guys I forgot my tag list and a lot of those accounts are dead help)
Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Whatever You Like Ch. 1
Warnings: NSFW, dry humping, handjob, fingering, smut in later chapters
Summary: You're horny and lonely. Daryl is horny and lonely. Why not get together and fix that, and maybe try a few things along the way?
Notes: This chapter is just dry humping and a little hands action but things will increase in maturity in the next few chapters.
No one ever talks about the sexual frustration aspect of living in the apocalypse. There was once a time you could just pick up your vibrator and relieve your stress that way, but sex toys and batteries aren't really abundant.
Everyone, at some point, had to deal with that type of frustration. Only Lori and Shane were lucky enough to have each other, a secret they thought was well kept, and everyone else had to suffer. Andrea could get very snappy. It was hard to tell if Merle was suffering with it or if he was just always a perverted asshole.Â
You thought you were suffering the most. You missed your vibrator dearly, and the bliss it would bring. You hadn't got off since the outbreak, which was⊠thirty days ago? Your fingers were okay, but nowhere near enough to get you off with how anxious and stressed you were, from the outbreak and sleeping in a tent around all those other people.
Daryl's sexual activity hadn't changed much at all. He never had any fancy sex toys or a girlfriend, just his hand, and he still had that. There was always this underlying desire to have sex, but he'd been dealing with that ever since he found out what it was, and it didn't bother him anymore now than before the apocalypse.Â
You'd grown desperate. People can call you pathetic, selfish, whatever they want, but your sexual needs are right up there with comfort; under shelter, food, and water. You couldn't help it.
So you started watching people, taking down mental notes, trying to suss out which one would be most likely to fuck you. Andrea might've been willing after a while, but you knew she'd be horrified if you brought up the idea, and you didn't feel like putting in the effort to warm her up to the idea.Â
It was too risky with Merle, you had a strong suspicion he wasn't exactly clean.Â
You could try Shane, you knew there was a high probability that he would be into it. Alas, the drama it could bring about with him and Lori was too much for you.Â
Everyone else was either married or not the type to have casual sex. T-Dog seemed like he'd get attached and have jealous tendencies. Glenn looked no older than eighteen, and he was far too nervous around women.Â
None of them were your first choice, though. That title belonged to Daryl. He checked all the boxes: didn't seem the type to get emotional, he definitely wasn't flirtatious enough to make you think he had any diseases, and he steered clear of camp drama.Â
The only problem was it was difficult to get the man to talk to you. He was gone half the time and stuck to Merle the other half.Â
It was hard, cracking that door for you. He would never pick up on your flirting, your hints, you almost suspected you were the first girl that had willingly talked to him, and he had no fucking idea what you were doing.Â
You just hoped playing the long run with him would be worth it.Â
âHey, Daryl?âÂ
He paused his task of typing his boots, looking up at you from his kneeling position. âWhaâsup?âÂ
It had been a little over a week since you put your plan into action, making an effort to spend time with him, even if he was standoffish at first.Â
âMy tent has a hole in it, and it's letting the mosquitoes in.â You tried not to cringe at your lame excuse. âTomorrow I'm going to find some decent thread to stitch it up, but, tonight can I bunk in yours?â
He had no reaction for a good few seconds, his mind processing your words. âI got duct tape.â
Fuck. Your mind raced. âNo, I tried that already, it peeled right off with the first breeze.â
âHuh.â His eyes narrowed in thought. âI mean, sure, I guess. Whatever. Me anâ Merle ain't no strangers to sharinâ a tent.â
âNo way, I don't want to put you out like that, I've heard him snore.âÂ
He sighed and nodded, knowing your words held an annoying truth. âYeah. Loud enough already, had tâmove mine cross the camp.â He nodded over his shoulder where his tent sat a few yards away from Merles on the other side of their private camp.Â
âGod, I know. Can hear it when I come outside at night.â You laughed. Your fingers fidgeted awkwardly as he began tying his laces again, trying to think of more to say.Â
âGoin West to check out that ole huntin' grounds. Yâcomin? Someone might've left a tent out.âÂ
You certainly did want to come, and so you did, right after making a quick stop in the RV to fix yourself up a bit. You fluffed your hair and fixed your makeup a little, something you'd been wearing recently in your quest for Daryl's dick.Â
The walk wasn't far, to your relief. Though you did end up taking a break once you found a few tents abandoned in a small clearing on the property.
You were so busy analyzing and imagining every outcome to every sentence you wanted to say to him to notice he'd been checking you out damn near the entire time.Â
Long before that, too. You were not only exactly his type and a woman he thought was the hottest girl he'd ever laid eyes on in real life, but you were also the only woman at camp he didn't want to jump off a cliff after speaking to. You weren't a bitch, you didn't treat him like the troubled kid at school, and you were never part of any drama or issues that seemed to be constant in the quarry.
So it was natural that he couldn't stop staring at you when you weren't looking.Â
âDaryl?â Your voice had him snapping his head away from your form, a jolt running through his heart at the near miss of you catching him staring. You were sitting in the grass between a few of the hunter tents, sharing a moment of silence after eating granola bars.
âHmm.âÂ
âDo you ever miss sex?âÂ
Now he was looking back at you quicker than he looked away. âWhat?â
âI don't know. I know we've only been out here like thirty, forty days, but⊠you gotta miss it, right?â
You studied his face like a newly poured chemical cocktail that might explode. He looked a little bashful, the tips of his ears red, his eyes flashing from your face to your hands, but there was something else, something that reminded you of that terrified excitement before getting on a rollercoaster.Â
âI mean, no shit. Sure, sometimes, I guess. Why? Hell you askinâ me for?â He rambled.
You shrugged in your attempt to play nonchalant. âIt's only natural. You're away from everyone you once knew, surrounded by strangers that act like sex doesn't exist. Can't go down to the bar or anything and take someone home.â
He snorted, shifting in his spot where he sat in the grass. âThat what you used to do?âÂ
âNo, Daryl." You laughed, rolling your eyes. "I just miss it. Sex I mean. I was, you knowâŠâ you struggled to sound neutral, âjust wondering if you missed it too.â
âWhy? You wantin' to suck my dick?â He couldn't help the harsh and rude quip of defense, that had always been his first instinct when there was a possibility of being made a fool of. Try to humiliate them, before they could do it to him.Â
âWhy'd you say it like that?â Your voice was soft. âLike it's a bad thing?â
Daryl shrugged his shoulders, snapping up a chunk of grass to rip apart.Â
You swallowed, moving your legs from their criss cross position to lay out in front of you. âWould you be opposed to something like that?âÂ
âQuit. Get to lookin' around, sâwhat we came here for.âÂ
That night you did end up sleeping in his tent. He declined your offer to share it, claiming he'd just bunk with Merle.
Only an hour after you went inside for the night, he snuck in with you.Â
At first he laid on the other side of the small tent, pressed up against the side.Â
A little while later he moved towards the middle with you, and then finally, he ended up right behind you.Â
Naturally you'd been awake the whole time.Â
His mind was racing with your words from earlier. That question, the way you looked at him, your body language and expressions letting him know you were genuine with your proposition.Â
You bit your lip and shifted your hips, just a tad.Â
Daryl immediately grunted as if you'd just slipped his dick in your mouth.Â
You smiled in the dark, staring off into space at the side of the tent. Talk about a boost to your ego.Â
He groaned again when you began moving, the sound quieter this time. Slow and steady, your hips moving from side to side, and occasionally pressing back against him. His breath was ragged already, and you could tell the man was close.Â
You slipped your hand down beneath the waistband of your boyshorts, rubbing quick strokes into the side of your clit.Â
When he was close, he grabbed onto your hips and ground against you like he was on a time limit. The aggressive action caught you off guard and you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut and letting yourself make whatever noises you felt like making.Â
His dick twitched against the thin fabric between your bodies.Â
With your free hand you reached for him, twisting your arm behind your back and pawing at the material of his boxers. He gasped when your fingers wrapped around him, his eyes falling shut and his jaw dropping.Â
Daryl choked down a whimper and thrusted into your fist, the tip of his dick prodding the plush meat of your clothed ass with each thrust.Â
The poor boy lasted about fifteen seconds after your hand first made contact with him.
With a high pitch groan he buried his face in your shoulder in a desperate attempt to muffle the sounds that made his cheeks burn.Â
You thought they were the hottest sounds you'd ever heard.Â
You forced yourself to cum, which wasn't too hard given the incredibly sexy noises of Daryl coming down from his high, his breath hot against the skin of your shoulder.Â
Your orgasm was amazing. You lost count of the days since your last. It was quick and short, but unbelievably powerful. Your muscles cramped from arching your feet so hard, and your lungs burned from breathing through your lips.
âHave you, you know, ever done anything like this before?â You panted.Â
He took a while to answer, his breath heavy and shallow. âGrown ass man. Course I have.âÂ
There was silence, the air tense with both of you knowing that was a lie.Â
âAin't the first woman to jerk me off.â Okay, that was more likely the truth and the extent of his sexual endeavors.Â
âIt's the most exciting thing I've ever done.â You admitted. You hoped to loosen him up with your admission, prove he wasn't the only one having a new experience. âI never really had an exciting sex life.â
You could hear him roll over and the sound of his zipper being pulled back up.Â
âYou can say no, obviously, but, uh.â You cleared your throat, eyes still trained on the roof of the tent above you. âWanna make this a thing? I don't mean like dating, or whatever. We could try new things out. Do stuff you've always wanted to try. There's not much to do around here most days besides wash clothes and cook.â
It took him a while to answer. So long that you began thinking he'd fallen asleep.Â
Your chest grew tight as you dreaded the possibility of you having ruined any chance with how straightforward you were.
âAin't gonna go around tellin' anyone, are ya?â
Your heart leapt. âNo.â
With the days that came you learned Daryl was far more inexperienced than you originally believed. That might not have been his first hand job, but that was the only thing he'd ever done before you.Â
He hadn't even seen a pair of tits in real life.Â
When the reality set in that you were serious and truly were willing to mess around with him, his hesitance lessened.Â
He actually grew quite eager, to your delight.Â
It was shocking how vanilla he could be. You'd assumed someone like him would want to dive right into the intense bits, ask for anal or blowjobs five times a day.Â
âYou want to finger me?â You were unable to hide your disbelief when you whispered.
âSâwhat I said, ain't it?â He snapped back in a harsh whisper of his own, his eyes darting around camp.Â
âYeah, no. Okay. Meet me in my tent tonight?â You'd already told him the hole was a lie to get in his tent, and he was unexpectedly turned on by the reveal.Â
âIght.â
You came to the conclusion that night that you'd hit the jackpot with Daryl. He wasn't only attractive, skilled, and clever, he was also incredibly eager to learn and to please.Â
You already had your shorts off when he crept in, the cover of night preventing him from seeing how wet you already were in anticipation.Â
He zipped up the flap behind him, even tying the inside strings before turning to you.Â
âHey.â You whispered, beckoning him forward with your hand. âYour hands are clean, right? Like I told you?âÂ
âYeah.â He nodded. He sat in front where you sat kneeling. âUsed soap, too.â
Oh, god. Jackpot indeed.Â
You were quick to get comfortable, shoving your blankets and pillows under your back so you could lay back but keep your eyes on him. You'd taken your panties off already, and bent your legs at the knees, thighs pressed together in sudden shyness.Â
âCan I?â He breathed, inching closer to you, refraining from anxiously biting his nails.Â
âMhm.âÂ
He licked his lips, eyes flicking down to your legs. It was dark enough that he couldn't make out any details, but he could see the shape of your body, and the slight glisten over your folds.Â
His hands displayed his unsureness, grabbing your knees only to pull away, and then bring them back. He spread your thighs and traced his hands down the insides of each, sending sheets of goosebumps over your entire form.Â
When he finally touched you, you couldn't stop the whimper from leaving your lips. It had been long since you came with a vibrator, but even longer by an actual person.Â
The tips of his fingers explored you, first giving tentative strokes down the outside of your labia. After a few seconds his index finger slid down the middle, gathering an impressive amount of arousal on the tip.Â
âS'it always like this?â He swallowed hard.Â
You suddenly felt self conscious. âLike what?âÂ
âWet like this. Sâlike, covered in it.âÂ
You let out a shaky breath of relief and shook your head. âN-no. Only when I'm turned on.â
You swore you heard his heart skip a beat. âYer turned on?â
âMhm.â You whimpered, resting your head against the pile of fabric behind you.Â
Flattered was an understatement. Daryl was shook. He brought his attention back to your pussy, his finger delving between your folds to feel around. He was immediately drawn to your clit, and brought in his thumb to rub it between his fingers.Â
âThat's good.â You breathed. Your eyes fell shut.Â
âFeels good?â The hopeful tone of his voice caused you to groan.
âUh-huh.â
He gave an experimental pinch. Even though it was gentle the action sent a bolt of electrical pleasure through your core, and you sucked in a sharp gasp.Â
âSorry-â
âNo, that was good.â You exhaled deeply. You swallowed dryly and forced your body to relax again, letting your head rest against the mound of blankets. âDo it again. Just- not hard.â
Daryl nodded quickly, his wide eyes darting down from your face to the glistening mess between your legs. He pinched again and his dick jerked in his boxers at the sight of your body trembling.Â
For some reason, he felt the need to ask for your permission to touch himself. The thought had his stomach twisting and he didn't act upon the urge, instead choosing to just go ahead and pull out his dick.Â
With his left hand he touched himself. It wasn't the best, but he made do. With his right he alternated between pinching your clit and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.Â
âPut one in, please.â You whimpered softly. You slipped your hands up your shirt and began playing with your nipples, pinching and rolling them in sync with his touches.Â
âAlright.â He breathed. He slipped his middle finger down to your hole, pushing in with little resistance. His fingers were deliciously thick, spreading your walls further than your finger ever could.Â
He thrusted his finger like he would a dick. While it felt nice, after a few thrusts the pleasure faded and you had to speak up again.
âCurl it, like this.â You held up your left hand and curled your fingers. You didn't even finish the action before he complied, and you saw white.Â
âOh, god.â You whined, your hips jerking up into his hand as he curled his thick finger again. âMmm-yes just like that. Just like that.â
Daryl found himself breathlessly smiling at the sight. His hand on his dick worked faster, and the finger inside you curled deeper. He angled his wrist so he could go back to giving your clit attention.Â
The second his rough thumb dug into your clit you came, your hips bucking and jerking under him like a wild mustang.Â
He gaped at you, watching you twist and squirm and cover your mouth to muffle your dry gasps. You looked fucking breathtaking, and he didn't realize he was watching you with held breath.Â
âF-Fuck, Daryl-âÂ
His orgasm caught him off guard in a similar manner and he let out an unintentionally loud groan. His hips jerked forward and he came right on your cunt, splattering over your clit and folds. The back of his hand took the brunt of his climax.Â
It wasn't as awkward as the first time. He was actually quite chivalrous. He cleaned you off with a drizzle of water and a clean rag, even going as far as to wipe your sweaty forehead with a different rag.Â
There was less dialogue though. He simply complimented your âsexy as hellâ orgasm, and bid you goodnight after double checking that you did indeed want to continue the game of yours.
đșđđđđđđ: Daryl Dixon doesn't say muchâbut when you almost die, he finally tells you everything. Turns out, the man who you thought hated you the most was the one who loved you the hardest.
The Georgia sun was already feeling way too hot by mid-morning, shining down on the farm like it had a personal problem against you as soon as you and the rest of the group had arrived on the Greene's property. After the funeral of a man named Otis, you stood near a truck with your arms crossed, listening to the voices around it. Maggie had put a map onto the hood for Rick and the rest of you to continue the search after Sophia.
"How long has this girl been lost?" Hershel asked, looking at Rick's pale face. You didn't blame himâCarl was still inside the house, recovering and quiet in bed, and everyone else was still somewhat in shock since Otis didn't come back, especially Shane. Or so it seemed.
"This'll be day three," Rick answered, and the sound of exhaustion in his voice was very noticeable.
Finally moving closer after some time, you stood right next to Hershel Greene. Not because you wanted to, but because it was the only space left around the hood of the truck.
"County survey map. Shows terrain and elevations," Maggie had said, making Rick nod, looking at everyone around him.
"This is perfect. We can finally get this thing organized. We'll grid the whole area... start searching in teams."
But Hershel immediately cut him off. "Not you. Not today. You gave three units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out," he said, then looking over at Shane. "And your ankle... Push it now, and you'll be laid up a month, no good to anybody."
This nearly made you open your mouth, about to offer somethingâyou hadn't given any blood, your ankle was fine, and you wanted to help, just like everyone elseâbut Daryl beat you to it, jerking his chin toward the map and pointing at a spot with one finger.
"Guess 's just me," he threw in. "'M gonna head back to the creek, work my way from there."
Of course.
"I can still be useful," Shane added quickly, adjusting the police cap on his now-shaven head. "I'll drive up to the interstate. See if Sophia wandered back."
Rick looked down but then nodded. "All right, tomorrow then. We'll start doing this right."
"That means we can't have our people out there with just knives. They need the gun training we've been promising them." Shane leaned forward, looking past you and toward Rick.
But Hershel didn't back down from what he apparently had told both Rick and Shane already. "I'd prefer you not carrying guns on my property. We've managed so far without turning this into an armed camp."
"All due respect," Shane fired back in an instant, shaking his head, "you get a crowd of those things wandering in hereâ"
"Look, we're guests here," Rick started and silenced him, then looked at Hershel again. "This is your property, and we will respect that." Before he even continued, he pulled his Colt Python revolver from the holster and placed it on the hood of the truck.
Shane hesitated, then did the same with his pistol.
"First things first," Rick then said. "Set camp. Find Sophia."
Finally, you cleared your throat. "We'll find her," you said. "We're not giving up."
Shane shot you a quick look but nodded. "Right... But I hate to be the one to ask," he said further, "but somebody's got to. What happens if we find her and she's bitten? I think we should all be clear on how we handle that."
"You do what has to be done." Rick's answer came with no hesitation.
Maggie looked up, her gaze switching from him to Shane. "And her mother? What do you tell her?"
"The truth," Andrea suddenly answered flatly, but that was about it.
Shane took a step back from the truck. "I'll gather and secure all the weapons. Make sure no one's carrying till we're at a practice range off-site. I do request one rifleman on the lookout. Dale's got experience."
"Our people would feel safer, less inclined to carry a gun," Rick told Hershel again, who finally gave him a thoughtful nod in return.
"That stuff you brought⊠Got more antibiotics, bandages, anything like that?"
But as the conversation turned toward medical supplies, Daryl grunted and moved away from the group. Just like that. You didn't hesitateâyour feet were already moving after him as he walked in the direction of his tent like he'd never been part of the conversation at all.
"Hey!" You called out, running a little. "Wait up."
He didn't turn, but he didn't speed up either. That was about as much of an invitation as you were ever going to get from Daryl Dixon.
You caught up to him just as he was about to kneel down, grabbing some more bolts for his crossbow and a knife. "The hell ya followin' me for?" He asked, not even looking up.
"I want to go with you," you answered. "I can help."
But Daryl snorted. Actually snorted. Like you'd just offered to fix his engine with a wrench and no knowledge at all when it comes to motorcycles.
"Go back to playin' nurse for the kid," he answered. "Ain't draggin' yer ass out there just so ya can trip over yer own damn self and die."
You blinked. "Okay, Daryl. How about you try to not act like a dick?"
"Ain't got no time for that."
You moved closer, squinting against the sun as you stared him down. "Listen, I'm not stupid. I can handle myself. If something happens, then you're there to help. And I would help you in return."
That finally made him look back at you with narrowed eyes⊠all blue and pissed. "Ya got a death wish, that it? Go wanderin' out there like a dumbass; gonna end up just like that lil' girl."
"That little girl is the whole reason we're out here in the first place!" You snapped at him, gesturing around. "You think you're the only one who cares? The only one who can search for Sophia?"
Daryl stood back up. But in the same way as when he was trying not to punch something. "Ain't 'bout what ya can do. 'S what ya shouldn't be doin'."
You were breathing hard, just as he turned away. "Don't follow me," he added, before turning and stomping off across the field and toward the tree line.
Without thinking, you walked after him again.
"Daryl, wait!" You called, grabbing for his shoulder as he reached the edge of the field.
He turned around like he'd been attacked, shrugging you off. His elbow hit you hard enough to surprise you and enough to hurt, making you stumble back a step.
"Don't ya touch me!"
You stared at him with wide eyes. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Daryl looked you up and down like you were a problem he didn't have the time to fix. "Nothin' wrong with me. I ain't the one out here goin' after people who told 'em no."
"That's just because you're being such a stubborn asshole, Daryl!"
He laughed, mean and without amusement. "Oh, ain't that rich, comin' from a bitch wearin' her goddamn perfume and pink nail polishâhair all shiny, clothes all clean! Ya ain't shit."
That answer felt like a slap in the face for you. "You don't know anything about me, Daryl. Don't talk about me like that." Blinking hard with a slightly trembling lip, you realized too late that he noticed it.
"I only want to help!" You quickly continued to shout. "You think I'm useless? I'm trying! I care. Isn't that what matters? God, you're such a bastard! Do you really think I'm some helpless littleâ"
"Yeah, I do," he growled at you, his voice dropping lower and sounding meaner. "Ya don't belong out there. Hell, ya don't even belong out here! Yer like some damn doll thatâ"
"Why do you even care then?" You shouted back into his face. "If I'm so pathetic, why not let me get eaten?"
Daryl stopped talking in an instant until his voice sounded normal again⊠unbothered. "Don't care. Just don't wanna have to be the one cleanin' up what's left when the walkers're done with ya."
The silence that followed? All you could listen to was your pulse, which was pounding in your ears.
Daryl turned his back to you againâlike he couldn't even stand to look at youâand finally walked off without another word, his crossbow hanging over one shoulder, going far from everyone, like he wanted it. Like he wanted to be.
You stayed where you were, jaw clenched, breathing fast. You weren't crying. Not really. But you wanted to. Just then someone stopped beside you, and you looked up to find Glenn.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I⊠just talked with Daryl," you answered, brushing your palms off on your clothes, trying to get the little shaking to stop.
Glenn let out a sigh and gave you a look. One of those typical looksâworried, a little amused, and very much not buying your bullshit.
"He always that much of an asshole to you?"
You let out a bitter laugh. "Pretty much. Guess I bring out the worst in him."
"I've noticed it already, believe me," Glenn responded. "As if... you walk near him and the guy forgets how to be a human being."
"He literally shoved me," you grumbled, more to yourself than to him. "Like, right now. And hard. Then told me I was useless and that I don't belong out here."
"JesusâŠ" Glenn blinked, shaking his head.
"Right? I ask to help, and he treats me like I'm the goddamn problem."
"Yeah, that tracks," Glenn answered dryly with a smirk. "That's what he does. Gets annoyed and acts like a dick to scare everyone away. Very much emotionally mature."
You snorted as if to laugh about it. But in reality? It hurt a little bit.
"He doesn't scare me," you answered. "He simply pisses me off."
"I think that's the same thing for him. Look, just give him some space. That man's got more walls than Fort Knox. But if you ever want to talk about it, I've got some time."
"Well, thanks for that. I mean it," you smiled weakly as Glenn started walking beside you, back toward the farmhouse. You glanced over your shoulder toward the trees where Daryl had disappeared. No sign of him. Was he already gone and looking for Sophia? You didn't know. And right now, you couldn't care less about Daryl Dixon.
But once you focused on what was in front of you, you saw her just before you reached your tentâCarol, standing off to the side, arms wrapped around herself like if she let go, she would cry. Her eyes were on the tree line, searching a forest for explanations that never answered any questions. She was waiting.
Waiting for a daughter who might already be dead.
You froze and felt it all at onceâshame, guilt, helplessness. You'd been arguing around instead of helping, just because Daryl thought you were useless. But what were you actually doing to help?
What were any of you doing, really?
By the time you reached your tent, your mind was already made up. You waited until everyone had calmed down, until everyone was busy with any task they were able to keep themselves occupied with, and until Rick disappeared inside the farmhouse to look after Carl.
No one was watching. Not now, at last.
Grabbing the knife that Shane had sharpened for you a few days ago, you slipped it into your belt. It wasn't much. But it'd have to do. Not leaving a note behind, you just disappeared into the woods before you could talk yourself out of it.
Keeping to the trail you found at first, the knife gripped tight in your hand, your eyes were looking toward every rustle of leaves and creak of branches.
It wasn't brave. It was stupid. You knew that. But you didn't care. You had to do something to help. Anything.
Time passed as you walked, maybe an hour, maybe more. You weren't sure. The muscles in your legs ached, and sweat slid down your back, sticky and wet beneath your shirt. But you kept going. Eventually, you saw it. A clearing. An old house made out of wood and forgotten, with windows that looked long broken. It was something. Maybe it was a place a scared little girl might hide in.
You approached carefully, your heart immediately starting to beat faster. Each step seemed louder than it should've been. The door creaked when you pushed it open, and you winced, raising your knife. Nothing moved.
Good.
Inside, the place smelled like mold and animal piss. You gagged but forced yourself to step in, eyes scanning everything. There was a broken-down couch, a couple of empty cans on the floorâsardines, maybe?âand a hallway leading deeper into the house.
You moved slowly, your breathing as quiet as it could be. The floor creaked beneath you, and every move sounded way too loud in the silence. A few steps further into the nearest room, you saw itâsomething that looked like a tiny, makeshift bed in a closet.
Could've been Sophia.
Could've been⊠But after searching through the whole place, you came to the realization that it was indeed empty.
Stepping outside again, you blinked against the sun, squinting at the ground. That's when you saw themâwhite flowers, growing wild near the tree line. Cherokee roses.
You remembered these roses. The history lessons in school about the Trail of Tears, how the Cherokee people were forced out of their native land, and how the mothers of the Cherokee were grieving and crying so much that they were unable to help their children survive the journey. You couldn't help but crouch down to take a closer look.
But that was your mistake.
Something snapped beneath your foot. Not loud. But you fell forward fast, your ankle twisting itself hard to the side as your foot caught a rock buried in the grass. Your knee slammed down on another, and pain tore through your leg, making you forget that your head hit the ground as well. Crying out, you tried to catch yourself, but your arm hit something jagged. Wood? Rusted metal? You didn't know and didn't have time to find out.
Either way, it cut deep. A long, deep cut inside your forearm, bleeding quickly and not stopping.
You swore, grabbing it, gasping as the pain started to be felt. Your ankle wasn't broken, but it throbbed as you tried to stand back up, only to fail. The second your weight shifted, your knees buckled and you hit the ground again.
"Shit," you hissed out as quietly as possible. "Shit, shit, shit!"
You looked aroundâtrees, grass, endless nothing. No one was coming. No one even knew you were gone.
The blood wasn't gushing, but it didn't stop either, making your heart race faster than it should've, and the heat of the sun made everything spin.
This was bad.
It felt bad. Not walker-bite bad, not definitely dead bad, but you'd hit your head a little too hard when you fell, and the pain behind your eyes was pulsing now, pounding even. A concussion? Maybe.
But worst of allâyou were alone. Out here. No backup. No plan.
You hadn't found Sophia.
You hadn't found anything.
All you had found were the Cherokee roses that blurred by now in front of your eyes like your brain couldn't quite hold the shape. You blinked, but the flower didn't sharpen. Everything was spinning. The trees swayed too hard. Your arm throbbed in time with your heartbeat, and your ankle had gone numb, like your body gave up trying to feel it anymore.
The grass was warm under your back. That should've comforted you, right?
And then the memories started coming back out of nowhere. They came slowly, like a fever dream.
The firelight. The sound of crickets. The quarry just outside Atlanta, back when everything still felt new, when walkers were the worst of your problems, and Daryl Dixon was just some loudmouth redneck with a brother twice as bad.
You'd never forget the first real day around them. It had been a good day. At least at first. You'd just bathed down there, using some lotion afterward you'd scavenged from a motel, along with a broken brush that barely held together as you came back with damp hair and a pink towel around your body.
The shampoo you'd used? It was strawberry-scented, the cheap kind, but it made your hair all soft and shiny. You'd taken an extra five minutes to wash it out in the water, humming to yourself, just trying to feel clean for five seconds. You even wanted to wear one of the sundresses you'd taken with you, thinking, stupidly, maybe you'd feel safe again and that this whole pandemic would be over soon.
What a joke.
Then you remembered walking up to the fire, smiling, towel around your shoulders. The way Jim gave you a nod. How Dale smiled like he was just happy someone still knew what lotion was.
You remembered Merle's laugh next. Harsh. Mean. "Well lookit that," he'd snorted, loud enough for the whole camp to hear. "Miss Georgia's right here in the end times. Whatcha doin', girl? Waitin' on Prince fuckin' Charming, or you plannin' to start a fuckin' show out here for me, sugartits? Do you think some walker's gonna fuck your pretty lil' ass? Shit, don't even need them damn dresses you always wearin', I can give ya a damn good time without 'em."
You'd tried to ignore him. Dried your hair by the fire, doing your best not to just run away when he got closer.
And Daryl? He hadn't stopped Merle. He'd just joined in like he hated what he was looking at. "Ya really bringin' that kinda shit out here? She really tryin' to get a walker to fuck her âfore it eats her."
You'd looked up. Said nothing.
And then Daryl had spat. Not near you. On you. A glob of spit that hit your leg.
"Dumb bitch. Still ain't got nothin' worth keepin' alive."
He hadn't even looked at you when he said it. Like you weren't even worth the eye contact. After that, you didn't eat with the others for days. But you tried to stay useful. Stayed quiet.
Even now, lying here in the grass, while some of the blood dried on your arm, your head pounding, the memory hurt.
Not just because it had been painful. Not because it was mean. Because part of you had believed them.
You knew that you weren't a fighter. You were just⊠you. Still using cosmetics and having a heartbeat too slow to keep up with a world that was dying around you so fast.
And Daryl? He'd known it. He'd seen it. He still saw it.
And that look in his eyes when he shoved you awayâlike just being near you made him weak? That wasn't anything new.
You didn't cry. Not back then. You just got up and left to go into your tent, telling yourself over and over that you wouldn't let it show.
And now you were bleeding out next to a flower instead of finding Sophia for CarolâCarol, who was grieving and strong in all the right waysâand you were still that girl with the strawberry shampoo, trying to prove you mattered before the end of the world would kill you anyway.
Maybe Merle and Daryl were right all along. Maybe you weren't worth saving.
Even now. No. Especially now. Half-conscious, with blood running down your arm and your stomach wanting you to throw up from the pain, the realization hit you hard.
You weren't one of them. You were just decoration. A joke. Useless. Always useless.
The last thing you saw before your eyelids felt too heavy was that stupid white flower, moving just slightly in the warm wind of the Georgia sun, like it was just here, waiting and watching you die in silence.
Back at the farm, Daryl yanked his crossbow into place, holding the strap over his shoulder a bit tighter when he prepared to go into the woods to continue his search for Sophia. He had been gone, yes, but he hadn't continued his search for the little girl and was only now about to leave.
Just before Rick's voice stopped him.
"Daryl. You okay on your own?" He asked.
"'M better on my own."
Rick nodded like he already knew the answer. "We got a base now. We can get this search properly organized."
Daryl narrowed his eyes. "Ya got a point, or we just chattin'?"
"My point is it lets you off the hook. You don't owe us anything."
"My other plans fell through." And then Daryl turned without waiting for a reply.
Soon enough, the farm disappeared out of view behind him. Out there, it was quieter. No bullshit. No looks. No whispers. Just nature, animals, and the walkers.
Daryl followed a trail he had seen earlier, retracing old steps, ducking under branches, and stepping over logs. He kept his eyes low, scanning. Looking for tracks. A footprint. Any kind of hint he could find.
It was nearly an hour later when the house came into view.
That old abandoned building, half-eaten by time. He approached it slowly before he entered a place that felt like it still remembered the people who'd lived here once. Crossbow raised, he stepped in and moved from room to room. The first one? Empty. Except for an old can of sardines on the counter, peeled open. Recent.
Someone had been here.
He kept going. Into the hallway, past a bathroom, and into another room with a closet door half-ajar. Inside was a makeshift bed. Small. Like someone had curled up and hoped to disappear.
"Sophia!" Daryl called out, not loud, but clear. No answer. No hope, either⊠Giving up after he made sure the house was completely empty, he stepped outside again, squinting his eyes in the sunlight. That's when he saw it. The flowers.
Cherokee roses.
Moving slowly toward them to take a closer look, his gaze dropped just before he wanted to kneel downâand that's when his eyes widened.
You were lying there.
Blood all over one of your arms and your side. One foot was at an angle that wasn't looking quite right. Eyes closed. Lips pale.
Daryl didn't move at first and only stared. Like maybe it wasn't real. Maybe if he blinked, you would disappear and he could go back to pretending you didn't matter. But you didn't go away.
"God fuckin' dammitâŠ"
His knees hit the ground as he dropped beside you before he grabbed your wrist firstârushed and too tightâbut he needed to feel a pulse. It was there. Weak, but there. You were breathing, but shallowly.
"Shit," he hissed as soon as he saw the deep and long cut along your arm next, yanking a half-clean rug from his pocket and pressing it to your skin where the blood was coming out. "Stupid. Stupid goddamnâwhat the hell were ya thinkin'!"
Unable to answer, your head lolled to the side. Daryl pressed harder, trying to stop the bleeding.
"This what ya wanted?" He continued to yell at you, even though you couldn't hear him. He looked down at your faceâsmudged with dirt and sweatâand for half a second, he felt something like guilt. But it was gone before he could name it.
"Stupid girl," he grumbled again, but it sounded different now. Quieter.
Grabbing your other arm and pulling it across his shoulders, he lifted your body with a grunt. You were dead weightânot conscious, not responsiveâbut he got you up, holding you awkwardly against his side like you weighed nothing.
"I swear t'God, if ya don't die, 'm gonna kill ya, bring ya back, n' kill ya m'self again! Fuck!"
And then Daryl started walking. Back through the woods, back toward the farm, his jaw clenched, his face looking pissed, cursing the whole way like that would keep the anger away from him. Every step moved your body a bit, and every little noise you made had him tightening his grip.
You didn't remember much of the trip back. Just the Georgia heat and some motion above your head, all the while every breath was a fight. But Daryl remembered every step of the way.
His arms were on fire, his muscles burning by the time the farm came into view. Some of your blood had soaked through his clothes, clinging to his shirt and skin. The rug tied around your arm was doing a piss-poor job at stopping the bleeding, and you weren't doing much at allânot even mumbling like he had hoped you would do after some time.
Rick was now on the porch of the farmhouse, talking to Hershel about somethingâmedicine, rations, or safety probablyâwhen he caught sight of Daryl coming out of the tree line with you in his arms.
His eyes went wide. "What the hell⊠Daryl!"
"She's hurt," Daryl snapped, stomping past him. "Went out on her own. Found her like this, bleedin' near some old-ass house."
"What happened?" Andrea gasped, running up to him, while Lori covered her mouth with both hands as she got out of the house to see what was going on.
"Get outta my damn way!" Daryl barked, heading up the porch.
"There's no room," Hershel immediately answered, stopping Daryl from walking into his home. "Carl's still inside."
"Then where the hell do I put her?"
"The RV," T-Dog cut in, looking at Dale for his approval.
Dale didn't argue and rushed to open the RV door while Daryl climbed the steps. He moved quickly, lowering you gently onto the couch, and Hershel was following with some of his medical equipment the second Daryl took a step back.
"Let me see. She's lost quite some blood. Probably a mild concussion. I need some time."
Daryl backed off only because he had to, watching with his arms crossed and lips tight while Hershel cut the rag from your arm and cleaned the cut. It wasn't fatal. Deep, long, painful, yes, but you were lucky. Soon, Hershel said something about shock and rest and stitches. But Daryl still just stared at your face. Pale. Eyelids still closed. Lips dry. And all he could do was stand there and watch.
That night, the camp outside the farmhouse was rather quiet. Everyone from the group went to their tents as the time passed by. Glenn sat on the steps of the RV for a while like he was guarding you, but eventually even he wandered off. Daryl had waited. He was now behind the RV, chain-smoking cigarettes like it would give him a better excuse for the nervousness he was feeling.
He hated this. He hated you. No, that wasn't right. He hated how you made him feel like this. Like he gave a shit. Like he'd never forgive himself if you died. It was past midnight when he stepped back in. The RV door creaked a little as it opened, and for once, he flinched at the sound. You were still there on the couch, with a bandaged arm, and still as death.
Kneeling beside you and staring at the bandage, he imagined how many stitches on your arm there might be before he started talking.
"Y'know, I was gonna leave ya out there," he smirked. "Saw yer dumb fuckin' ass lyin' in the grass and thought, âGood. Serves that bitch right.'"
He suddenly sniffed and wiped his nose on his arm. "But I ain't done that."
Looking up at youâyour sleeping faceâhis eyes went to look down to your lips. Just a breath away. Daryl leaned in slowly, like even gravity didn't want to push him too fast. But when his nose nearly touched yours, he stopped and pulled back with shaking hands and a dry mouth.
"Bet ya'd punch me if ya knew." His own words made him smile.
"'N I bet ya still got some fight left. Ya always been fightin' my damn brother away. Ya remember back at the quarry?" He continued. "Me 'n Merle⊠we used toâfuck, we were assholes. Used to think ya were the dumbest damn slutâgirlâI ever met."
Daryl laughed again, shaking his head. "Painted nails. Lil' pink bag full o' crap. Lip stuff. Glitter lotion or some shit. Whatever the fuck that was. Dunno. Shit⊠who the hell wears glitter durin' the damn end of the world?"
His voice cracked, but he ignored it. "Ya were always tryin' to make things pretty. That damn girly shit. Ya got a whole damn bag of soaps and creams and fuckin'... ribbons. And what did I do? I spit more 'n once on ya and yer shit, remember that? Said it was useless. Said ya were useless."
He looked away, huffing, only to look down. "Fuck⊠Ya always kept all o' yer things clean. Yer tent. Yer hair. Yer hands. Made the rest o' us look like fuckin' trash. Not good 'nough for ya."
Daryl paused, inhaling deeply and breathing out slowly, making sure no one was coming to look at how you were doing. "That deer I brought in? When Rick joined? Got it for ya. Was fuckin' mad at ya that day, âcause ya smiled at Shane or Glenn orâfuck, I dunno why it bothered me, it just⊠did."
He then pulled something from his pocketâa dirty little bottle of rose-scented hand cream. "Ya had one of these once, 'fore the CDC blew up," he grumbled, setting it down on the little table beside you. "Said it reminded ya of home. Heard ya talkin' 'bout it with Lori. I told ya it was useless bullshit. Made fun of ya for it while I was wasted."
He swallowed hard but then continued to talk to you while you were sleeping. "I went back to that damn pharmacy for it 'fore I went lookin' for Sophia. Saw it on the damn map 'fore ya asked me to come along. Wanted to slip it in yer stuff when ya ain't lookin'. Did that more than once. Soap, too. That fancy coconut or vanilla shit."
He dragged a hand over his face. "'S my fault that ya almost⊠Yeah, mine. Shouldn't have gone to that damn pharmacy. Could've kept yer damn ass safe."
His throat felt tight. Everything ached. All his muscles were tense by now, burning with shame and guilt. "Dunno what this bullshit is. I ain't never had nothin' good. But if ya died out thereâŠ" He stopped, swallowing hard, as hard as it was even possible. "I think I'd lose my goddamn mind..."
The second the words left Daryl's mouth, he flinched again. Saying such things out loud hurt worse than any injury ever could. "Ya always tried to make me feel like I ain't just shit. Like I ain't just Merle's dumbass brother and a fuckin' problem. Like maybe I'm... I dunno. Somethin'."
His forehead dropped to the edge of the couch, hiding his face. Half a sob, half a curse, Daryl shuddered like a storm was rushing through him, one that refused to stop letting him drown.
And then you moved. A groan. Maybe a whisper. But he heard it, and his head shot up. You weren't awake. Not fully. Still out cold, or so it seemed. But your mouth had moved, you had talked; Daryl was sure of it.
Another groan from youâuncertain, half-conscious.
"Fuck this," he suddenly snapped, taking the bottle and grabbing for the door handle of the RV. "Fuckin' idiot! 'M such a fuckin' idiotâŠ"
But he didn't go far, especially since he made sure no one was nearby who might notice him. No, Daryl just sat in the dirt by one of the RV wheels, with his head leaning back against it, his teeth biting into the palm of his hand to keep himself from crying.
Soon enough, the days passed, not manyâbut enough for the bleeding to stop and for the bruises on your skin to start turning all sorts of ugly. Your arm was stitched up, the muscle still pulling every time you moved. It stung like a bitch. And you weren't allowed to use it much, which meant you spent most of your days lying and sitting around in Dale's RV.
Rick had stopped by more than once to see how you were doing. Lori brought soup that tasted like water and, well, just water, really. And Maggie came around sometimes with Glenn, but that was about it. It got a little easier to move your arm, eventually. Easier to breathe, too, without feeling your head spin. The farm was quiet most of the timeâbirds, sounds from the horses here and there, and the distant sound of shots, since Rick and Shane had started to teach how to shoot.
You started making short walks around the farm. Then to the field. Then the house.
Still, you hadn't seen him again. Daryl was nowhere to be found anymore. But T-Dog found you instead when you were leaning on the fence one afternoon, holding your arm like it might fall off if you didn't. You weren't crying, but damn if it didn't feel like you could if someone even breathed too loud.
"Doing okay?" He asked, jogging over, but you just shrugged in return.
"I guess."
"Don't push it too fast. That kinda cut, it's no joke," he nodded toward your arm and held out his own. "Guess we're some kinda twins now, huh? Same side as yours."
You managed to give him a small smile in return. "You're not still hurting?"
"Oh, I'm hurting, alright. Just not bleeding on people anymore and leaving a trail of blood for the walkers to follow."
You glanced at him, almost laughing. "Yeah. I remember your accident, too. On the highway. I've never seen so many walkers at once."
"Shit, yeah. I sliced my arm open trying to get outta the way of one of them. Thought I was done for."
Your eyes narrowed as you thought back. Back to the walkers. Back to the ways every single one of you had tried to hide from the danger. "You know⊠I never asked, but how'd you even get out?"
T-Dog looked at you, a little sideways, like maybe he wasn't sure if you were serious. "You don't know?"
You shook your head slowly. "No. How should I know? I was up in the RV with Andrea. It was bad enough with that one damn walker in there and next to her in such a small place. But thanks to Dale, we're still alive... So? How did you make it?"
He laughed, but it sounded more like a huff. "Daryl. He's the one who saved my ass. White boy came up to me outta nowhere and covered me and him under walkers. We lay there under those dead bodies. Didn't even move."
"Wait, waitâDaryl Dixon?"
"Yeah." He scratched the back of his neck. "Wasn't what I expected either. I mean, remember Merle? That guy was a full-blown asshole. And I figured Daryl was just like him, you know? All that racist, hillbilly shit? But he didn't even hesitate. Saved my life."
"But⊠I also thought he was like Merle. In fact, I'm pretty much sure he is just like Merle."
"So did I," T-Dog admitted again. "Still not sure sometimes. But I guess he's loyal. Just doesn't know how to act loyal without being a real dick about it at the same time."
"Yeah⊠Sounds about right."
Watching how you turned a bit away from him, T-Dog took a step back, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. "You don't think he gives a damn about you, do you?"
"Why would he?" You asked dryly, shrugging your shoulders. "He's hated me since they'd arrived at the quarry. Said I was useless. Spit at me. Mocked me for every⊠well, every 'girly' thing I still owned. Stuff I still own."
"But he carried you back," T-Dog answered quietly. "Didn't stop to ask, didn't wait for help. He found you and moved. That's Daryl."
You looked down at your hand, flexing your fingers slowly. The wound on your arm still ached. But this time, it didn't feel like what hurt the most. You didn't say anything else in response at first. Just looked back out toward the tree line, where the wind had started blowing just slightly.
"But I'm so sure that he hates me. You just don't treat someone you don't hate the way he treats me."
T-Dog looked at you for another moment, then shrugged as well. "Could be. Or maybe he just doesn't know how to act loyal. Loyalty doesn't always come with manners."
You huffed at that. "He didn't even stop by. Not once. And I've been stuck in that RV for days. That man does not give a damn, believe me, T."
"'Cause he doesn't do âchecking in.' Dude's probably sitting alone somewhere, thinking too hard and pretending not to give a shit."
"Think I should go and thank him?" You asked, biting the inside of your cheek and laughing quietly.
T-Dog snorted in response. "If you can find him. It doesn't hurt to say thank you, especially if you don't care about how a man like Dixon might react."
His words made you think. Daryl had saved T-Dog. Daryl had saved you. And yeah, maybe he was a dick about it. Maybe he said mean things and looked at you like you were pathetic. But you also remembered this tiny, stupid stuff you found in your bag that you thought was from Jacqui or Amy before they'd diedâcute little comforts that you couldn't even imagine may have been from someone like him.
Soap. Lip balm. A tiny comb. A little pink lighter that still workedâŠ
Thinking back to these many things that had magically appeared in your belongings, the sun was starting to go down when you finally worked up the nerve to find Daryl. You'd been pacing near the RV restlessly for half an hour, or longer, chewing your lip, thinking of a hundred different ways to start a conversation, and hating every single one of your ideas.
Why'd you carry me back?
You chose the most neutral thing you could come up with: Ask him why. Casually. Like it means nothing.
You spotted Daryl's tent now much further from the rest of the group, like he couldn't stand the sound of humans for longer than ten minutes. He was sitting outside, sharpening the blade of a knife with that same pissed-off expression he always had when someone approached him.
You stood there for a second, watching Daryl from a few feet away, just long enough for him to notice you. But he didn't look up.
"Lost?" He then asked, still dragging the knife along whatever he used for sharpening it.
"No," you answered, stepping closer. "I was looking for you."
"Well, ya found me. Congratulations."
"I just wanted to ask you something," you swallowed hard. This was a mistake, for sure. But it was too late now.
Daryl didn't answer you, waiting for you to speak, and just kept sharpening. So you pressed further and finally asked the question. "Why'd you bring me back?"
He stopped moving, but then he scoffed. "Was out lookin' for the lil' girl. Found a body bleedin' in the grass. Figured I'd put it over my shoulder and be done with it."
"You're saying you didn't even know it was me at first?"
He looked up now, finally, and his eyes were cold. "'M sayin' it wouldn't have mattered shit. Just don't need 'nother walker out there. Woulda put a bolt in yer head ifâ"
You flinched, and he saw it. Of course, he did. "Hell, shoulda just left ya there. Woulda saved me a helluva walk, too."
You blinked hard. From anger, not from tears. Not this time. "Why are you like this, Daryl?"
"Like what?" He smirked at first, scoffing quietly.
"This⊠cruel."
Daryl's smirk was gone fast, and, putting his knife aside, he finally stood up. "I ain't cruel, woman. 'M honest. World's gone to shit, and ya still walk 'round like yer a fuckin' princess. Maybe if ya stopped worryin' 'bout bubble baths and started learnin' how to not get yerself sliced open, ya wouldn't need any damn carryin'."
Staring at him for another moment, not saying anything, not giving him the satisfaction, you just turned and walked off. You didn't run. You didn't cry. You didn't say another word. Just walked. Wanting to leave him to rot with whatever broken part of a soul made him push kindness away if it disgusted him this much.
Again, the hours passed quietly, like the world was trying to pretend it was peaceful. In the meantime, you had cleaned up as best you could. Maggie had brought you food. Glenn had made a dumb joke that almost made you smile. Almost. You went to your tent later, rubbing near the itchy spots on your arm where the stitches were pulling a little too tight. Dropping to your knees, you unzipped the flap, reached for your bag⊠and froze.
There, on top of your stuff, was lip gloss. Not the lip balm you always used, but the exact kind of lip gloss you'd run out of weeks ago. Next to it? A tiny bottle of rose-scented hand cream, a little dirty, but still sealed. And a small bar of soap, wrapped in light purple wax paper with floral patterns on it. Lavender. And so much more... And next to it all?
A white Cherokee rose. No note. No explanation. Just there.
No one else would've thought to bring you that kind of stuff. You were sure of it by now as you sat back. Hell, most of the group didn't even know when some of your things were empty to begin with. Nor did any of them know that you were bleeding out right next to a Cherokee rose bush. Except one. The same man who'd told you to your face that he should've left you to die.
Touching the edge of the rose gently, you laughed. A bitter, breathless, and choked laugh. "Asshole..."
You sat there on your knees in silence, with your heart beating harder than it had during the walker horde on the highway. But what you felt at that moment? It was fury. And it was the kind of fury you hadn't let yourself feel in a while. Maybe ever.
You gathered the things carefully but not tenderly. All of them, even the flower, with hands that wouldn't stop shaking. Then you stood up, walking back out of your tent. Daryl was still where you left him. He was leaning over a small fire now, poking it. His crossbow leaned next to a log, untouched, and he didn't look up when you approached. Typical.
But he didn't have to. He felt you coming.
"You think I'm fucking stupid?"
Daryl flinched at your words, but his eyes stayed fixed on the flames.
"You think I wouldn't notice? The things you put into my shit? The gloss, the balm, the shampoo, the soaps, the stupid-ass lighter with the pink rhinestones? Oh! There's so much more!"
Now he looked up with narrowed eyes. "I told ya, Iâ"
"No! No," you cut him off, stepping forward. "Don't do that! You got me these things. You went out of your way. Hell, you got me the exact same hand cream I told Lori about, didn't you? Smells like roses!"
You kept going like your voice just had to be heard for once. "I'm not stupid. I'm not blind. But you want to treat me like I'm some idiotic little girl who can't survive without her glitter and her goddamn bubblegum lip gloss, right? Like I'm just some waste of fucking space!"
Daryl scowled. "Ain't never saidâ"
"You didn't have to," you snapped back. "You made sure I knew!Every single day! You spit on my things, Daryl. On me! You called me useless! You mocked everything I had left before the world ended. Everything that reminded me I was still a fucking human being!"
"I ain't done thatâ"
"You did! And now you brought me back? But you won't look me in the eye? You won't talk to me? You don't even admit it, you damn coward!"
"Ain't got no time to explain, woman."
"Bull-fucking-shit, Daryl Dixon," you hissed. "You owe me an explanation! Not for carrying me. For this."
You stared down at all the things in your hands. Then, slowly, you raised one of them. "You wanna know what this is?" You asked quietly, while Daryl didn't answer. So you threw it at his chest.
"It smells like lavender⊠and feels like shame on my skin."
You threw the next oneâthe lip gloss. "This one's pity, right?"
Another bottle, this time aimed at his shoulder. He flinched when the hand balm hit him. "This one's your hate⊠and my guilt. Smells good, doesn't it?"
You threw the lastâa tiny little mirrorâand it cracked when it hit the ground near his feet. "And this one, Daryl? This one's not even from you, but it's my reminder that when I look in the mirror now, I hate what I see. Because every time I see my face, I hear your voice calling me useless."
He flinched again, breathing faster now. "I never meantâ"
"You never meant to?" You cut him off, shouting at him. "Stop! You meant every word you ever said to me; you just didn't expect me to remember them all!"
His hands curled into fists, and he stopped poking the fire. "Ain't done it for ya."
"Really?" You asked back. "Then who was it for? Your fucking idiot brother, Merle? Amy? Andrea? Jacqui? Lori? Carol? Yeah, right! Fuck that!"
He got up and stepped forward suddenly, with an angry expression on his face. "Don't talk 'bout shit ya don't understand."
"Oh, I understand plenty," you shot back, not moving an inch. "I understand that you only know how to hurt people who give a damn. I understand that you are scared as fuck of someone giving a shit about your sorry ass!"
"Oh, I know enough! I know that you'd rather make a girl cry than admit you were scared when you saw her bleeding out."
"Shut up," he growled, his voice cracking.
But you didn't. You leaned in, close, your nose almost touching his. "You don't hate me... You hate that I make such a pathetic being like you feel like a person. Human."
Daryl pushed you roughly away from him. Not enough to knock you down. But enough to get your attention. "Ya don't know shit! I carried ya back âcause I didn't want 'nother fuckin' dead body walkin' 'round here! 'S it!"
"Liar!" You spat, throwing the last thing he got you without even looking at what it was, almost hitting his head. "You carried me back because if I died out there, you would've had to admit you cared!"
"Ya don't get to say that! Ya don't get to decide why I do shit, 'n ya don't know what Iâ"
"You liked watching me bleed out, didn't you?" You then continued, your face turning red in anger. "Made you feel strong, didn't it? Because a girl like me needing a man like you meant you weren't nothing for once in your pitiful life!"
Dead quiet, Daryl stepped back. And the expression on his face? It was pain, rage, and shame, all at once. "Don't fuckin' say that," he whispered.
But it was too late.
"What, does it hurt?" You scoffed, your eyes still cold. "Good! Do you know what else hurts? Lying in the woods bleeding out, thinking the man you thought was cute at first, but who actually hates your ass to death, is the last person you'll ever listen to! Wishing you'd actually died instead of having to face him ever again! And you know what? I fucking liked you, Daryl. God help me, I fucking liked you. And you made me feel like shit for it."
Daryl didn't look up⊠as if he couldn't.
"Stupid fucking redneck. Giving me this shit like it means anything."
"'CAUSE I AIN'T NOTHIN'!" He suddenly shouted, with his fists gripping at his hair like he could rip his thoughts out. "'S ME WHO AIN'T SHIT!"
Daryl sank down on his knees, both hands still on his head, gasping wildly, rocking back and forth, back and forth. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!"
His voice broke off, and he started hitting his head with the side of his fists. Once. Twice. More and more. He did not stop until he felt dizzy. You blinked in shock, your heart pounding in your ears. That wasn't the Daryl you knew. This wasn't even the Daryl you hated. And it made time seem as if it stopped.
"W-why do you hate me?" You whispered carefully. "What did I ever do to you?"
"I didn't know how else to do it!" He shouted, his voice cracking hard. "Ya want words? I ain't got the damn words! I don'tâ" He broke off, breathing fast, dragging his hands down his face.
You didn't respond.
"I got ya that bullshit âcause ya fuckin' liked it! âCause it made yer stupid ass smile! And IâI dunnoâI thought maybe if ya smiled at me for one goddamn time 'stead ofâ!"
He sniffed loudly. Like he wanted to cry or just say something nasty, but nothing came out. Only a tiny, broken inhale. All you could do was stare, but this time? It was still shock and confusion. "God, I'm such a dumb bitch⊠ShitâŠ"
You started to turn, just a little bit, ready to go somewhere and scream at yourself for what you've doneâbut movement stopped you. Daryl reached out. Clumsy, almost afraid to touch all of it, he picked up the lip balm first. Cracked now, dirt stuck to the side. Then the mirror. The bar of soap. The hand cream. One by one, he gathered all of it together.
You paused, arms crossed, trying not to care. Trying. Then you saw it. A single, tiny tear landed on the hand cream as he held it in his palm, the tremble in his hands impossible not to notice. He stared at it for a long moment, sobbing as quietly to himself as possible. Then he looked up. Not at you. Toward you. And he stretched out both arms, holding the little pile of things in his big, strong hands. No words. Just his eyes that were all wet and looking hopeless, like he was offering up what little was left of himself.
"Take it backâŠ" Daryl sobbed. "I⊠I didn't mean to⊠I dunno whyâ"
His voice cracked again. He looked like he wanted to die. And with a deep breath, you stepped back in his direction, shaking your head. He kept staring at the stuff in his hands, his voice dropping even lower, like he hated every word coming out of his mouth.
"I don't hate ya! Just⊠didn't wanna care," he sobbed, and you swallowed hard. "But⊠ya just kept bein' all⊠you."
You blinked several times in a row.
"I thought⊠if ya hated me, then it wouldn't matter if ya left one dayâif ya died... And ya weren't s'posed to be prettyand smell like fuckin' strawberries or whatever and look at me like I was anythin' other than white trash! Ya weren't s'posed to matter!"
By now, you were crouched down right in front of him. "But you were mean," you then whispered. "You hurt me, DarylâŠ"
He nodded slowly. "I know."
"And I almost died thinking you hated meâŠ"
Daryl finally looked up. His eyes were red as he looked into yours. "I didn'tâI didn't mean for that to happen."
"I-I know," you cut in, your voice now trembling slightly too. And then, finally, your hands reached out. You touched Daryl's cheek first, your thumb sliding along his jaw before you cupped his face, making him shudder.
"I ain't good," he whispered. "Don't talk right. Say shit I don't mean. I fuck everythin' up. And Iâ" His breath hitched. "I jus' wanted ya to⊠not die."
You saw it again. The pain. The way his mouth opened like he had somethingâeverythingâto say and didn't know how. And that was when you put a soft kiss on his forehead as you pulled him close.
Daryl made a tiny broken sound before his brain caught up, and he immediately panicked. "Don't," he gasped. "Don't do that. Don't⊠don't pretend!"
He looked scared when you didn't answer. But you just wrapped your arms around him and held him tight. Like you were trying to hold the broken parts of him back together with just your touch. Daryl's face pressed to your neck, his hands suddenly gripping your back like you might be gone if he opened his eyes again. You felt itâthe trembling, hearing the sobs, feeling the way he pressed into you.
"M'sorry," he whispered into your shoulder. "M'sorry. I didn't mean it. I-I swear, I justâŠ"
You didn't need an explanation. You just held him tighter. Let him feel you. Let him know you weren't going anywhere, even if his whole body desperately tried its best to relax against you. His breath hitched differently now. The sobs turned a little quieter. Less panic. More need. Not pulling away, you saw it now. All of it.
The little boy who never got love. The man who thought hatred would keep him safe.
How much time passed by wasn't on your mind as you knelt there with Daryl for a while, letting him fall apart into your arms, until the shaking slowed and the wet sobs against your skin turned completely quiet. When Daryl finally let go of you, there was this dazed look in his eyes. Like he'd forgotten where he was or who he even was.
"Come on," you then said gently, just loud enough for him to hear. But Daryl didn't move. So you pulled gently at his hand and helped him up, patiently, and as fast as he wanted to move again. He followed you without a word, stumbling a little, his head low as you helped him back into his tent before he sat down without any words on his sleeping bag.
In the meantime, you reached for the stuff he'd gotten youâpicking it all back up off the ground, since he'd let it fall into the grass once you'd put your arms around him, and brought it with you. Daryl didn't even look up when you left all of a sudden; he still sat there.
Once back in your own tent, you moved as fast as possible. Wipes. Lotion. Some clean water in a bottle. A small towel. The flannel shirt you always wore on warmer nights that was way too big for you. You carried it all back in your arms.
Stepping inside Daryl's tent and kneeling down in front of him, he glanced up, confused and wide-eyed.
"I ain'tâŠ" He started, his voice shaking. "I don't wantâ"
"Quiet," you answered gently, pressing a finger to his lips. "You don't have to want anything right now. But you need. Listen, just sit there, alright? Let me."
You took the wipes first, pulling one from the pack and warming it a little bit between your hands. Then, slowly and carefully, you wiped the dirt and tears from Daryl's face. His mouth trembled when you touched him, his lips twitching like he might say somethingâbut he didn't. He just let you clean him. Quiet and shaking ever so slightly.
"I ain't clean," he then said, almost ashamed. "M'dirtyâŠ"
"No," you whispered with a small smile. "You're not."
Soon enough, you worked your way down his arms, wiping off dirt and sweat and the faint bits of blood that were still left on his skin. Then his handsâhis big, rough hands, all calloused, but still trembling. You took your time there. Between each finger. The back of his palms. His wrists.
Daryl watched you in silence, but when you started pulling at the hem of his shirt, he finally flinched, and his eyes were going wide again. "What're ya doin'?"
"Just going to clean you up proper," you answered softly. "It's just a shirt. Relax."
He looked like he wanted to say no. Like he wanted to grab it and yank it back down. But something in him broke a little more, and he let you pull it over his head, only to turn away from you as if in shame. And that's when you saw them. The scars. Not all of them, since he wasn't fully turned away from you, but what you saw was enough to notice how deep and all over the place they were. Scars that shouldn't have been there across his back.
Daryl panicked the second he realized what you were seeing and tried to back away. "Don'tâdon't fuckin' look at that, a'ight? Ain't nothin'! Nothin' ya gottaâfuck, justâjust leave!"
But you didn't pull away as you reached for the small towel and the water bottle you brought with you, opening it to clean him a little more. "Who did this to you, Daryl?"
"Don't matter," he grumbled, arms now crossed tight across his chest. "Ain't yer damn problem."
You leaned forward, arms wrapping around him from the side, your chest pressed to his biceps. "It is my problem," you whispered. "You are."
Placing the towel over his shoulders after you were done drying him off, you grabbed the lotion next. You rubbed it slowly over his arms, his shoulders, and his hands, all the while he sat frozen and looking confused, like it was the first time someone had touched him without hurting him.
"You smell like me now," you smiled, but he just sat there, swallowing hard, breathing shakily.
You reached out and touched his shoulder gently. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna ask."
"Yeah, 'cause ya don't evenâ"
"I'm not gonna ask," you said again. "You don't have to tell me anything, Daryl. But I'm not going to pretend I didn't see it. And I'm also not going to pretend it changes anything."
He turned fast. Wild-eyed. "Ya don't needa pretend nothin'. Yerâyer tryin' to be nice or some shit. Ya don'tâ"
Not finishing what he wanted to say, Daryl stared at you once more, his chest rising and falling fast. His mouth was open like he wanted to scream or cry but didn't know which one would save him.
Using the moment, you reached for the flannel now. "Arms up..."
He blinked in confusion, maybe wondering why you were still here, which made you smirk. "Come on now, Daryl. I'm not leaving you sitting around shirtless."
He let out a weak, stunned huff but lifted his arms, watching as you slipped the flannel over his head and let it fall around his body, the sleeves way too short for him.
Then, slowly, you reached for his face. "Look at me."
He did as you held his chin, caressing it. "You don't have to be an asshole around me, Daryl. You don't have to yell. Or lie."
All he responded with was a nod in return.
"You want me to stay?"
Another nod.
And you didn't try to pull back. You just stayed there, kneeling in front of him, one hand still on his face, the other soon resting over his chest where his heart felt like it was trying to beat out through his ribs. He looked at you like he didn't get it. Like he was still waiting for the trap.
"You wanna lie down?" You asked eventually, voice soft, but he hesitated until he gave the tiniest nod again.
So you laid down first, letting your side press down on the sleeping bag before you patted the spot in front of you. "Come here."
Daryl snorted, but it came out cracked, sounding more ashamed than mean. "Shit. Ain't neverâ"
"Now's a good time to start."
He grumbled under his breath but crawled toward you anyway, arms stiff, not really knowing how to be held. Like it was something that needed instructions.
You wrapped your arms around him from behind, pulled him in close, and let your body press to his. His back pushed against your chest, all tensed up and full of confusion, still waiting for some kind of rejection that wasn't even coming. His hands stayed awkwardly near his chest, and his shoulders trembled now and then like he still hadn't run out of tears but just didn't have the strength to let them fall anymore.
"You're shaking," you whispered, holding him a little tighter.
"M'fine..."
"Nope. You're not."
Daryl didn't continue arguing. You pulled the sides of the sleeping bag up over both of you and put your face into the crook of his neck, letting your breath warm his skin there.
He was quiet for a while, and you didn't rush him, since after some time, he finally spoke up again. "Why ya always been like that?"
"Like what?"
He hesitated again. "Weird, I guess? N'... y'know. Just girly. With all them lil' bottles n' fuckin'... soaps n' shit. Creams or whatever all that stuff is ya usin'."
You snorted against the back of his shoulder and kissed the skin there, which made him squirm. "Is that such a big problem for you?"
"Nah, I just... I don't get it. Ain't never made sense. Ya know... world's gone to fuckin' hell, n' ya still put on lotion as if it matters."
"Well, it matters to me," you laughed in response.
"Why?"
You held him a little tighter. "Because it's who I am. I've always been that way. Even before the world ended, I guess. It's what makes me feel human. Like I'm still me. Not just some scared girl trying to survive."
Daryl was quiet again until he whispered. "'N why the hell would a girl likeâ" He started but cut himself off. "Don't need someone smilin' at me."
"Daryl."
He didn't answer, so you let your hand glide over his side. "You're the first person that ever made me feel safe back at the quarry. Shane always seemed so⊠impulsive. The others? Well, no one really fought like you did. I'm not saying the rest of the group can't keep us safe, but when that walker got that deer you were hunting down? Made me realize you knew more about survival than everyone else. You were the first one to point out that we need to destroy their brains. You were the first one, the only one, really, who knew how to hunt. It seemed so⊠natural. Not because you're big or strong or scaryâthough, let's be real, you kinda areâbut because you see people. You look after them. Even when you act like an asshole."
He huffed out a grunt, his shoulders relaxing a little more.
"You gave me those things," you continued softly. "Little things. Stupid things. A flower. A bar of soap. So many things⊠So you cared. Even if I didn't know at first."
He didn't answer you, but his hand found yours, holding it tight against his chest.
"And yeah, you're⊠you. Sometimes a bit rude. But now I think thatâ" You didn't talk about it further, just pressed another kiss to the back of his neck, softer this time. "You don't have to understand it. Not all at once. But I really do likeyou. I liked you right from the start. I just didn't smile at you because⊠well, you know how you were acting around me."
His grip on your hand loosened, and you felt him slowly, finally, letting out a deep breath. Like he'd been holding that breath since Atlanta. And you stayed like that. Daryl didn't say anything else, but his breathing slowed after a while, sounding calmer, until he fell asleep like that, in your arms.
Like a broken, little boy who'd never been held in someone's arms for the sake of it.
And when you were sure Daryl was out, you slowly, so slowly, moved yourself away from him, pressing one last kiss to the side of his face and putting the sleeping bag tighter around him. He grumbled something in his sleep. A quiet sound where you couldn't make out what he was saying. But it didn't matter what exactly he said when you gathered your stuff back together and stepped out of his tent again. At least you knew he was feeling safe for now.
The next day when you were back on your feet, you weren't thinking too hard about the night before. Making yourself as useful as possible, you tried to help the rest of the group as best as you could in the morning.
Lori handed you a knife while Carl ran around the farm, finally able to move after he'd been out for days after the incident, and already having more energy than he should've had after being shot. But hey, Hershel worked miracles. The kid was back to running around as if nothing ever happened.
"Don't let him wear you out," Lori said with a wide smile, wiping her hands on a towel. "He'll run circles around you until you get dizzy."
You snorted. "That's what I'm afraid of. And I think he's already making my head spin. But, you know, he's feeling like a kid again for once; that matters the most, especially with everything going onâŠ"
Carl then ran up beside you, holding out a deflated ball to play with. "Wanna play catch real quick?"
"Only if you go easy on me," you answered, pointing to your arm. "Doctor's orders."
"Deal!" He grinned and ran back a few feet, while Lori chopped onions beside the fire. For a moment, it all felt so⊠normal. Almost like something from the before-timesâmorning air still chilling and not too hot, smells of wood and watery coffee in the air, people waking up, stretching, and starting their day.
And soon enough, you noticed him from the corner of your eye before you heard himâalways the quiet one.
Daryl.
He was walking in from the tree line, his crossbow as always with him. Same sweat-drenched skin while walking around in the sun, the same scowl that was more habit than emotion. But he didn't look your way, and you didn't call out, since Carl had already started playing with you. Still, you couldn't help but watch him walk toward the RV before returning your attention to the kid.
Meanwhile, Daryl pushed open the RV door. He'd been avoiding Carol for a while nowânot because he didn't give a shit, but because he didn't know how to. What was he supposed to say? "Sorry yer kid's missin'? 'M still searchin'?" That didn't help anyone.
But he had remembered the roses that bloomed in the woods. Right there, where you had been bleeding near the house, like they were waiting for him again. He'd stared at them for a full minute before pulling one out of the dirt and shoving it into an old beer bottle he found.
He felt stupid carrying it back. Felt even more stupid walking up the steps of the RV, holding it. But he did it anyway.
Inside the RV, Carol was cleaning everything, trying to distract herself from the emptiness that was eating her up from the inside out. "I cleaned up," she said without looking at him. "Wanted it to be nice for her."
Daryl glanced around. "For a second I thought I was in the wrong place." He set the beer bottle with the rose down on the little table.
She finally turned. Her eyes looked at it, then back at him. "A flower?"
"'S a Cherokee rose." He sighed. "The story is that when American soldiers were movin' Indians off their land on the Trail of Tears, the Cherokee mothers were grievin' and cryin' so much 'cause they were losin' their little ones along the way from exposure, disease, and starvation. A lot of 'em just disappeared."
Carol froze but continued to listen to Daryl. "So the elders, they said a prayer, asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits, and give 'em strength and hope. The next day this rose started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell. I ain't fool 'nough to think there's any flowers bloomin' for my brother. But I believe this one bloomed for yer little girl."
Her eyes filled up with tears, but she shrugged it off with a laugh.
"She's gonna really like it in here," he added, nodding once. Then he turned away and stepped back outside.
But Daryl didn't head straight back to his tent. Not right away. Instead, he stopped near one of the fences, where he could see you, even though he'd made up his mind to head out again soon.
You were laughing, tossing a ball, even if your movements were stiff, and Carl almost fell when he caught it. Lori said something, probably about food or ordering Carl to be more careful. But you, you looked...alive.
Still pretty. Still you. Still 'girly n' shit,' with your beautiful hair and your clean clothes and that voice that didn't sound like anyone else's.
Daryl could still feel your hands on his skin; that damn flannel shirt still smelled like you, which he carefully left in his tent.
Raising a hand without thinking, he waved a little. Awkwardly. But you looked up and smiled at him. Really smiled. And that's when Daryl's face turned red and he damn near panicked. He dropped his hand, spun around, and stormed off toward his tent like he hadn't just spent a few hours walking through the woods while secretly hoping to see you at the end of it.
Meanwhile, Lori leaned over, grinning a little confused. "What was that about?"
"Long story," you answered, shaking your head.
Lori raised her eyebrows but didn't push any further when you turned your attention back to Carl.
"Alright," you challenged him. "Last round. The loser has to eat a whole onion raw!"
But every now and then, your eyes looked toward the tree line again, right where Daryl had disappeared again. You'd be checking on him later. And as time passed, it was safe to say that you barely saw him all day. He was nowhere to be found. Not that you were watching or anythingâokay, maybe you did want to look after him. Still, you weren't about to start jogging all over the Greene's property, but damn if your eyes didn't automatically look to every movement of the trees, every corner of the farm, every second someone from the group came walking out of the woods or was near you.
Still, Daryl was just... gone.
And it wasn't like you to worryânot in the clingy, 'where's my man?' kind of way, but after last night, after everything he let you see, the way he sobbed in your arms like a hurt little boy, the way he clung to you like he'd drown otherwise? It didn't sit right with you that he could disappear so easily, like none of it ever happened.
By the time it was afternoon, you finally gave in and went looking.
Finding Glenn near the stable while Maggie stood at one of the stalls and stroked one of the horses, you heard them talking, laughing about something.
"Hey," you called as you approached. "Have either of you seen Daryl? I saw that he left again, but he's still not back."
Glenn tilted his head. "Yeah, earlier, when we came back. He asked me about the town where the pharmacy is. The one Maggie and I hit."
You nodded slowly, a little confused. "But doesn't he already know where it is? Did he say why?"
Glenn shrugged. "Said he was going scavenging again. But probably still looking for Sophia too. Guess that takes some time."
You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. Of course, he went alone. Again.
Meanwhile, Glenn narrowed his eyes a little. "Why, are you still trying to go thank him for saving your life or for ruining it a bit more?"
"Wow. What a joke, Glenn. Maybe I just miss his charming personality," you snorted, rolling your eyes.
Maggie laughed, and Glenn wanted to answer, but your mind was already somewhere else, and your feet followed those thoughts soon afterâback down the way to Dale's RV.
You stepped up into the RV with the intention of grabbing a weapon. Not a big one. Just something small enough to carry, big enough to keep you from getting attacked by a walker if you crossed paths with one. A pistol. A knife. Both.
But the second you turned and went back outsideâŠ
"Where do you think you're goin'?"
You froze. Shane was leaning up against the RV, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed just enough to let you know he'd been waiting and watching.
"Just walking around, looking, watching," you lied flatly.
He stared at you with a smirk, shaking his head. "Don't look like walkin'. Looks like you were grabbin' a gun."
"Maybe I wanted to do both," you grumbled. "Feels safer."
"What's goin' on?" Rick's voice stopped you from behind Shane, who still didn't move.
"My bet? She was about to head out on her own."
Rick frowned, stepping closer, looking at you like he already knew he wasn't going to like the answer. "Is that true?"
"I just wanted to check out that town Glenn and Maggie went to. That's all."
Rick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're still not fully healed. You know how dangerous it is out there. Especially alone."
Shane was shaking his head. "What he said. Not happenin'. Not alone."
"It wasn't up for debate," you argued back. "And it still isn't up for debate. I can handle myself just fine."
"Well, now it is," Shane answered. "You're not goin'. Period."
And just like that, they were walking off, leaving you alone. But Lori showed up not even a minute later, carrying a basket and looking somewhat amused.
"Okay," she started. "What's going on this time?"
You let out a deep breath, staring at the spot where Rick and Shane just stood. "I wanted to go look for Daryl, but no, of course, the only two cops that are still alive around Atlanta stopped me from doing so."
She stopped mid-step, but without answering you, so you glanced at her. "What?"
But Lori just smiled. Not in a mean wayâjust a knowing one. "I'm sure he's fine," she said gently. "Come help me with the eggs, okay?"
"The chicken coop? Eggs? Really?"
"Yeah. Besides, you've got to keep your hands busy before you go out and annoy both Rick and Shane at once. Believe me, you don't want that."
You followed her, grumbling, "Not a bad idea, actually..."
"Oh, by the way," Lori added casually as you reached the coop. "Daryl actually called me Olive Oyl."
You turned your head in confusion as you crouched down. "Wait, what?"
She smirked, crouching down by one of the nests as well. "I called him selfish. He called me Olive Oyl. You figure out what that meansâŠ"
You stared at her, half confused, half in thought, and she just tossed you a couple of eggs like she wasn't just out here admitting something to you, but you weren't really sure what she meant.
Hours passed again.
Chickens were settled, dinner was halfway done, and, as always, everyone kept themselves as busy as possible.
You were wiping your hands on a towel near the porch of Hershel's farmhouse when Lori nudged you with her elbow. "Look," she said softly, nodding her head toward the tree line.
You turned. And there he was. Daryl. Finally.
He came walking out of the woods, a bag slung over one shoulder. No blood. No obvious injuries. No anger in his walk. Just calm and relaxed, like he hadn't just ghosted you the entire day. And without even looking over to the farmhouse or at the group, he walked straight to his tent and disappeared as if nothing ever happened.
But you knew that it would soon be late enough where no one would pay attention. No one would notice if you moved away during the night. And if Rick or Shane would notice? You somehow counted on Lori to have your back.
You caught sight of Daryl before you made it to himâsitting outside his tent with his back turned, searching through that bag he probably found in that small town nearby like he was checking it for something. And you could see how stiff his shoulders were, even from a distance.
Hesitating for a second, you then decided to walk over to him as quietly as you could manage in hopes of not scaring him off, your hands curled into fists like the pressure might help with the sudden nervousness you felt out of nowhere.
Being close enough after a while, you could see the fumbling of his fingers and the new bits of dirt beneath his nails. You reached out, one hand raised and your fingers stretched, just about to tap his shoulderâand the second your hand made contact?
Daryl moved fast. Too fast.
Before you could even yelp, he had you pushed on your back in the grass, one foot pressing down by your hip, the other leg straddling your thighs. His forearm came down hard near your neck, not on it, but close enough that you knewâif he'd wanted to hurt you, really hurt you, or even worseâhe could've.
His other fist was in the air, ready to punch. And then he saw you. Stunned. Taken aback. Breathing hard and trying to cough beneath him.
Daryl's mouth fell open the second he realized it was you. Shock and horror were written all over his face, his eyes quickly looking around, as if unsure what part of your face they should focus on, and his fist dropped instantly.
"Shit! Shit! Fuck," he stammered, pulling back but not quite getting off you. "I ain'tâfuckâI didn't know! I thoughtâhell, I ain't meanâshit! Shit!"
You reached up before he would freak out completely, both hands finding his face. Your thumbs slid along his cheekbones, and he flinched like you'd hit him. But you didn't say a word. You simply lifted yourself as best as possible and kissed his forehead like you'd done beforeâslow, soft, waiting for him to calm down. You felt the panic slip out of him in shaky breaths, his body relaxing against yours, until you pulled back and wrapped your arms around him.
Daryl didn't say anything. For quite a while, he simply let you hug him, his forehead dropping against your shoulder like he wasn't sure he deserved it.
Eventually, he crawled off you completely and helped you up, grumbling a bunch of apologiesâand cursesâas he did. You could barely make them out. He was red in the face, not just from embarrassment but from shame.
Brushing your palms off, you followed his eyes to the open bag beside his tent. Whatever was in there had fallen out in the heat of the momentâsome canned food, a bottle of water, some medicine he'd found, a few hygiene things that looked suspiciously like they'd been taken from a women's sectionâand then, carefully folded underneath it all, was a dress.
Pink. With ribbons. Not over-the-top, but definitely... you. Your size. Your style.
"Well," you said with a smirk, stepping closer and crouching beside the bag. "What's this?"
Daryl went stiff. "Iâain'tâlook, I didn't mean nothin' by it," he answered fast, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand like he wanted to disappear into the ground. "Was just... y'know, ya still like all that stuff, an' I saw it hangin' there all clean-like, figured it'd maybe... I dunno... ya still like that kinda shit, right? Thought maybe ya'd... wear it. Or somethin'. Ain't mean nothin' by it, just saw it, figured it was dumb, but it made me think'a ya, andâfuckâŠ"
"It's not stupid," you said, cutting him off gently, but he looked at you like he couldn't quite believe you meant it.
You picked up the dress carefully with your hands, held it against your chest, and spun a little around as if you were modeling for him. "You got the size right. And it's got some ribbons as well... You really have been paying attention, huh? To everything."
His head was so red by now you thought it might explode on the spot.
"I like it," you continued, more quietly this time, not wanting to push him too much. "A lot."
Daryl swallowed so hard it was almost audible, his eyes looking at the dress, then to your face, then immediately away again. "Y'do?"
You nodded.
"Yer so fuckin' weird," he responded, but it sounded like a joke. No anger behind it.
"Guess I am," you answered with a smirk. "And I guess you like weird girls who wear pink dresses and make you sleep like a baby when they hold you."
Daryl opened his mouth to argue for a second, then shut it again. Stepping toward him and sliding a hand into his hair, brushing through it gently, you watched how his eyes shut close at the contact. He was so touch-starved it somehow hurt to see.
"Ya, uh... ya gonna go back to yer tent now?"
You tilted your head in confusion at his sudden question. "Why? Do you want me to leave?"
Daryl shrugged a little, rubbing the back of his neck once more. "Just... Y'know. 'S gettin' cold and all."
"Daryl? It's warm. I won't freeze to death." Shaking your head, you held back a smile. "Are you asking me to stay?"
He huffed a breath and gave a helpless little nod of his head, not looking at you. "Yeah, yeah, right⊠But⊠Ain't askin'. Just⊠Would be okay if ya did, s'all."
Quickly taking a step back, you leaned down to put all the things that had fallen out of his bag back into it, picking it up and holding it out to him until he took it. Finding his other hand, you then put it into yours.
"I'll stay."
Daryl followed behind in silence as you slipped inside his tent without any hesitation, with him throwing the bag into one corner of the tent as fast as he could. Inside, it was dark, but not pitch blackâthe moon gave you just enough light to see everythingâthe sleeping bag, his gear, and the flannel shirt you'd given him that smelled like you, lying right next to where some improvised pillow was lying on the ground.
You turned toward him, still holding his big, calloused hand in yours. His fingers twitched like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to let go or tighten his grip.
"So," you said softly, smiling at him. "We sleeping or what?"
Daryl shrugged, his eyes switching from you to the sleeping bag like the situation was somehow too complicated for his brain to process. "Yeah," he grumbled, "guess so."
He sat down awkwardly first, then lay back, giving the sleeping bag a few rough pats like that was going to magically make it more comfortable. You crawled right beside Daryl and turned your back to him instinctively, expecting him to just sort of⊠get it.
But Daryl didn't move an inch.
Peeking over your shoulder, he just grunted at you, clearly ashamed and confused, but finally slid closer next to you. He lay on his side behind you, arms straight at his sides like he was getting ready for a casket instead of cuddles.
You waited. And waitedâŠ
Finally, you sighed and reached behind you, grabbing his wrist and putting his hand over your waist.
Daryl went rigid. Completely tensed up and unsure. So you laughed to yourself and wiggled back into him until his chest was pressed against your back and his big, strong arm rested across your stomach.
"Do you still not know how spooning works, Dixon?"
Still awkward. Still stiff.
"What, this?" He scoffed. "Ain't nothin' to it."
But his voice cracked just a little, and you could feel the hesitation in the way he touched you. Careful. Nervous, even. But you didn't push him. You just covered his hand with yours and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles.
Daryl's breathing slowed eventually. You felt his nose against the back of your head, his fingers twitching now and then against your side, and soon, your body relaxed too, feeling his chest rising and falling behind your back.
You felt safe, stupidly so, when you dozed off like that. And it might've been an hour later when you felt it.
A little movement. Barely there, at first. Just the press of his hips rougher against you, and then again.
And again.
You blinked awake slowly, still a little bit sleepy. And then it hit you.
He was hard. Really hard. And he wasâshit, he was humping you in his sleep.
Not fully. Not aggressively. But enough that you could feel the drag of his cock against your ass, big and hard, right through his pants, softly grinding, lazy and slow, as if he didn't even know he was doing it.
You smirked to yourself, eyes still half closed, not daring to move just yet.
Holy shit, that man was packing.
With your thighs clenching a little without even wanting them to do so, you didn't even need to see it to know. You could feel it. How thick he was. How the head of his cock pressed against you when he moved like he was grinding in a daze, with no idea you were wide awake by now.
You bit your lip at the realization of it allâDaryl Dixon, quietly, accidentally dry-humping you in his sleep as if he was desperate and didn't know how to ask for what he wanted.
Holding your breath, you tried not to giggleâbecause laughing would wake him up, and waking him up might ruin the moment. Or worse, embarrass the hell out of him. But shit, the way his hips rolled was so slow and lazy⊠His body was dreaming of something he'd never admit to wanting.
Another sigh left his lips. This one was more like a whimper. And that's when your thighs clenched for real. You pressed your lips together, closing your eyes. You couldn't help it. Couldn't stop your hand from drifting down to rest on his again. The one he still had on your waist.
Daryl's fingers twitched. He reacted. Shit, was he waking up?
"Mhm..." He mumbled. Not a word. Just a sound. And he moved again, a little more this time, his cock pressing harder against your ass, making your breath hitch.
The longer it went on, the hotter it gotâhim so unknowingly needy, and you, getting wet from the feel of it, every roll of his hips pressing that thick, aching cock against you like it just needed somewhere to go.
Daryl let out another soft sound behind you. Not a groan. Just a broken sigh that made you swallow hard and your pussy throb.
You could wake him up. You could turn around. You could grab his jaw, kiss him just like that, and show him what to do next. Or you could wait a few more seconds and see just how far that sleepy little grind of his was going to go.
And Daryl kept it going, his hips rocking ever so gently, pressing himself against your ass like he was in a different world entirelyâa fantasy, a dreamâwhere he got to have this. You. Where it was okay to want.
And oh, how he wanted you. You could also hear it by now, the way his breath hitched just a little more each time he moved. Louder. Another soft whimper barely made it past his lips. You wondered if he even knew he was making those little sounds and if he'd hate himself for them in the morning.
Shifting slowly, you let your thighs part just a little. Not enough to be obviousâjust enough to feel him better. You let his hand go, moving back with your own until your fingertips brushed over the side of his thigh. He jerked, only a twitch, like his body felt the touch even if he wasn't awake yet.
Then, quietly, carefully, you rolled over to face him, feeling how his strong arm slipped off your waist. His brow was furrowed just a little, his lips parted, almost looking innocent. And maybe he really was.
Reaching up, you couldn't help but let your thumb touch his bottom lip softly, parting his mouth a little more.
And then, you kissed him. Only one deep kiss.
Poor Daryl had no idea. Or maybe he did and just couldn't help himself. But then you slid your tongue along his lips. That was the moment he stopped moving entirely, and you didn't have to look to know he was wide awake now.
Still, you froze for a second. So did Daryl.
Then he pulled back in an instant, realizing what kind of situation he was in. "Shit! I⊠fuck! Whatâ?"
"I noticed," you whispered and gave him a loving smile in response. "And I simply kissed you in return."
He opened his mouth, like maybe he had something to say, maybe an apology, maybe an excuse, but you beat him to it. Crawling toward him, you quickly pushed him back down to keep him from escaping you, straddling him.
Daryl's face turned a shade of red you didn't think possible for a man who spent all day out in the sun. "IâI didn't know I wasâfuck, I didn't mean nothin' by it! I wasn'tâŠ"
You caught one of his hands and wrapped your fingers around his. "It's okay," you said, your thumb stroking his knuckles gently. "Was kinda cute, actually."
He made a strangled noise like he couldn't decide whether to groan or storm out of his tent as fast as possible. "Cute?" He asked, clearly offended by the word.
"Yeah⊠You heard me," you answered, sliding your hand down between your bodies until your palm pressed against the hard outline of his cock.
Daryl didn't know what to say anymore, but he didn't stop you either.
So you kissed him again, with just enough pressure to make him gasp. You felt the way his mouth opened for you, the way he stopped breathing, so you let your hand continue to move against his cock ever so slowly, and when it moved over the thick tip of it, he choked out a sound that damn near made you moan in return.
"Jesus," he groaned, letting his head fall back with his eyes squeezed shut.
Taking the opportunity, you leaned forward and kissed his jaw and his neck, nipping gently at his skin.
He was already so fucking hardâŠ
"Shit," he hissed through clenched teeth like the word had been ripped out of him.
"What?" You smiled against him. "You literally hump me in your sleep and then act like you don't want it when you're awake?"
He made another strangled sound, somewhere between a grunt and a moan this time, his face turning deep red. "I wasn'tâI didn't!"
Daryl's eyes looked into yours, wild and wide, and then lower, down your body.
"Yeah, you did," you smirked, pulling back a little, not wanting to overwhelm him. "You just didn't know I'd let you. Now..."
Making yourself comfortable to straddle him tighter, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, slow enough to make your point clear. His eyes never left your skinâstaring at every inch like it was something new, something forbidden. Your bra came off next.
And Daryl looked like he forgot how to breathe. His jaw dropped, his tongue wetting his lips so fast he didn't even realize he was doing it, his eyes fixed on your tits like he was terrified to blink, and his hands twitched at his sides.
You tilted your head and grinned. "Are you going to touch or do you want to stare all night?"
Swallowing hard and not wanting to refuse, one hand came up trembling, like he was expecting you to slap it away, but then he stopped halfway.
"Daryl... I'm letting you. Just try and touch me."
That certainly helped. His fingers moved up your waist first, cautiously, like he needed to warm up to the idea. Then, slowlyâso goddamn slowlyâhe brought his hand up to your chest.
And fuck, the look on his face⊠As if he'd never seen a naked woman in his life and wasn't sure if he was hallucinating or about to die from it.
Daryl's palm cupped one of your tits with doubt, but also hunger, like he wanted to devour them but was too scared he'd hurt you if he squeezed too hard.
He didn't even squeeze. He held.
But when you gaspedâwhen your back arched a little more and your mouth dropped open in a silent moanâthen he started to touch, kneading gently, his thumb brushing over your nipple, where he didn't even realize what he was doing until you shivered from it.
His eyes looked up to yours, panic on his face, thinking maybe that noise meant he did it wrong.
Reassuring him, you shook your head, smiling gently. "That was good, baby. Don't stop."
Daryl didn't. He kept touching. You could see the way his jaw clenched, see the tense muscles in his neck, and feel the way his cock twitched hard beneath you in an attempt to hold himself back from thrusting up against you.
Leaning down, you let your tits rub across his chest up to his face, just enough to tease, and kissed the corner of his mouth.
Daryl whimpered. He whimpered, the poor thingâŠ
You could feel the tremble in his thighs now, his hand still clinging to your tit with a look that said he was afraid you'd change your mind. But his fingers tightened further, wanting to make himself believe that your sounds weren't even pity, but want. Real want.
"Do you want to come for me, Daryl?"
His hips bucked up without permission, and his breath hitched again at your words, all the while you kept your hand on himâpressing and sliding your palm over the bulge in his pants, feeling how hard he was, but still trying to hold himself together, which was getting harder with every second that passed.
"I, uh," he stuttered, almost too quiet to hear. His eyes went shut when your fingers squeezed just the tip of his cock through his pants out of nowhere. "F-fuckâdon't⊠don't... PLEASE."
You bit back a grin. There it was.
His hips bucked up once again, just a little, trying to get you to touch him some more. It was obvious that his body didn't care that he had no real idea what he was doingâit wanted more of you.
Leaning in close, you let your tongue lick over his parted lips. "You sound like you're begging for it, you know..."
Daryl's eyes snapped open at your words.
Wide. Confused. Embarrassed.
You watched the realization hit himâwatched him remember what sounds came out of his throat. His mouth was still open, attempting to take it back, maybe deny itâbut nothing came out. Only another moan. By now, he was all whimpers and stutters and fuck-me eyes.
You laughed softly, rolling your hips against his thigh. "Didn't even realize, huh? You're just so damn worked up you don't know what you're saying anymore."
Tilting your head, you pressed another soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before dragging your lips along his jaw. "You never had someone make you feel like this before, Daryl?"
"N-noâŠ"
"Mhm," you smiled against his skin. "I didn't think so."
Daryl whimpered again, and you felt his cock twitch under your palm.
You leaned closer, letting your breath tickle his ear, whispering. "Does your dick get hard like this for just anybody, sweetheart?"
His head turned to the side with the expression of someone who was more than just ashamed.
"I'm gonna touch you for real, Daryl," you whispered, not moving your hand further for now. "And you're going to be good and let me. You're going to say âthank you,' too⊠like a sweet little boy who listens."
"IâŠ"
"You what?"
"I⊠thanks," he stammered, hardly able to say it out loud.
"Good boy. All the while you're begging for it without even meaning to."
His hips jerked up againâuselessly on instinctâand he made the softest sound you'd ever listened to in your life. Was it a sob? You weren't sure with his fingers still on your tits and him looking too stunned to do anything.
"Oh, babyâŠ" You smirked, pretending to be all sweet and kind while grinding down against his thigh. "You want it that bad?"
Daryl nodded. Just a tiny, helpless nodâbut he meant it.
You sat back some more, sliding your hand from his cock up to the button of his pants, but didn't open it. Not now. Reaching up, you started to open the buttons of his own flannel shirt instead, one by one, only to kiss your way to the middle of his chest. One kiss. Then another. Then lower, sliding your lips and tongue down to his stomach.
He was panting now, his chest rising and falling wildly, his other hand twitching like he didn't know where to put it. "Please," he whispered. It slipped out quietly. But you heard it. Hell, you felt it.
"Please?" You asked, not stopping your trail of kisses down to the skin just above the waistband of his pants. "Please, what? Tell me."
"Dunno," he whimpered, almost desperate. "Just, justâdon't leave."
You couldn't help but giggle at his words, kissing his skin just above his belly button. "Don't worry, Daryl. I won't leave, and believe me, I'll tell you what to do."
He blinked down at you, looking like he'd agree to anything if you just kept touching him like this.
As soon as you got off, kneeling down beside him, you grabbed his jaw. "Lay back onto the sleeping bag."
He obeyed immediately, lying down flat on his back and breathing like he'd run for miles, his eyes looking from your face to your tits and back again.
You straddled him again, slowly, getting comfortable like you had all the time in the world. "Wanna suck on my tits now?"
His mouth dropped open at your question. No sound came out. Just an overwhelmed, shaky cough. Suddenly cupping your own tit in your hand, you gave it a light squeeze, then brushed your thumb over your nipple, watching how Daryl's eyes followed the movement of your finger.
"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm letting you, Daryl," you whispered. "Come on. You can do that. Be a good boy for me and do as I say."
Daryl nodded slowly, pushing himself up on his elbows and thinking he might still be dreaming of a fantasy. A fantasy he's had since the first time he saw you at the quarry outside of Atlanta. But he already knew it back then⊠how you'd become his undoing.
You guided him gently, making yourself comfortable next to him now, and arched a little closer so he didn't have to reach far. He stared for one more secondâjust oneâand then leaned in. Awkwardly so. His mouth was unsure at first, with quivering lips brushing over your nipple that didn't quite know what was allowed and what was not.
So you sighed and put your fingers into his hair, caressing the back of his head. "Open that pretty mouth, sweetheart."
Daryl obeyed. You brought your nipple to his mouth and watched him. Watched him take it in, his lips wrapping around it as if he was scared. "That's it," you whispered. "Suck."
He did. Carefully at firstâthen with more confidence when your hand returned to his hair, guiding him. His tongue flicked over your nipple, his lips sucking gently, then harder when he heard you moan. You felt the way his cock throbbed beneath your thigh, how he was still so hard it probably hurtâbut he didn't ask for anything. Didn't even grind up to feel more. He just sucked. Sweet. Quietly. Needy.
"You're doing so good right now," you whispered, letting him take the other nipple into his mouth next, his tongue moving with more urgency now. "Look how well you listen."
Daryl whined again but never stopped. By the time you looked down at him again, his lips were shiny, and his cock was leaking so much precum that his pants were dark and soaked through a little.
But you let him continue to explore your tits as long as he wanted toâslow little licks, then sucking gently, then sucking harder when he was sure you liked it as much as he did. One of his hands came back up too, holding your tit, trying to memorize the feel of it while he kept going, switching sides when your hand in his hair pulled it a little.
And all the while, he kept making those noises. Not words. Just quiet, breathy sounds. Whimpers. Moans. Every now and then, a broken little 'fuck' or 'shit,' wanting to try and hide that he couldn't really handle it. Pulling back after a while, only enough to see his face, you smiled down at him.
Daryl only blinked at you, so you kissed his temple. "Do you realize how sweet you are? I bet I could make you come like this. Just from sucking on my tits."
That made his hips buck again. And the noise that came out of him? Practically a whine. You knew it nowâknew Daryl. How desperate he was. How careful. And you could tell that he was already close. Only from this. The thought alone turned you on.
You couldn't help but press your knee between his legs to tease him a little and to feel itâthat cock throbbing against you, for you, and still aching. Poor boy was losing it, and you hadn't even taken his pants off yet.
Reaching down slowly, you let your fingers tease the skin near the waistband, making him shiver. Daryl froze for a moment like he was trying not to run away. But he didn't stop you, even though he was still fighting with himself. You worked his button open, then, patiently, pulled the zipper down just enough to slip your hand into it. His breath hitched when you brushed over the front of his boxers. So warm. So hard. Fuck, he felt like steel, and he throbbed so wildly under your hand when you barely even touched him.
"You're so cute," you whispered, letting your lips kiss his jaw as your hand started moving over his cock. "So sweetâŠ"
Daryl moanedânot even loud enough, really, making it sound like a broken whimper. He looked down between you with disbelief in his eyes. It was clear no one had ever touched him that way before. And he wasn't even able to concentrate on touching you as well when you teased him for a while through his boxers.
Long strokes. Nothing fast. And enough to keep him on edge.
Watching him being this close so easily felt almost unfair.
"Don't," he whined all of a sudden. "IâI can't!"
"You can, believe me," you hushed him softly, watching him hide his face out of embarrassment, but you could still hear every broken little noise that left him. Then you slid your hand down, right inside his boxers.
Trembling and barely able to hold himself together, he gave you a shocked gasp when your fingers wrapped around his cock. His body betrayed him, wanting more before his mind could even catch up.
"You poor thing." You said, kissing his neck. "I hope that didn't hurt?"
Daryl didn't answer. He couldn't. His hand had grabbed part of the sleeping bag, eyes shut tight when you started to move your handâonce. Just a pump. Twice. Again. Watching the way he reacted to every single one. He couldn't stop shaking. Couldn't stop gasping.
"Already this wet and leaking," you smirked, feeling the precum dripping down along his shaft. "It's quite impressive how much you're trying to be good."
"PleaseâŠ" He then sobbed, and you looked up at him. That red face. Those quivering lips. His pleading eyes.
Oh, shit.
Your brain just kind of stopped working when your fingers wrapped harder around his cock at that sight. He felt so warm. So thick. And Daryl groanedâdeep, broken, as if in actual painâand his hips bucked up just barely. Lord... He really was desperate.
Slowly pumping his shaft with your hand moving up and down, you kept the pressure torturously gentle, making his abs clench every time you reached the base of his cock, his breath shuddering.
He was losing it, and his hand found your wrist suddenly, grippingânot to stop you, but to beg you without words.
You leaned down, lips brushing over his jaw. "What is it, baby? You wanna come for me?"
A strangled groan left him. He was too scared to say yes.
"You think I'll stop if you come too fast?"
Daryl didn't know if he should nod or shake his head at your words, and it turned into a mix of both. It looked almost pathetically wholesome how this strong man let himself go in a way you could've never even imagined. Especially not a few days ago.
"Good thing I want to see you come." And then, without warning, you changed your rhythm, pumping his cock harder now, faster.
"F-FUCKâm'sorryâI can't!" He moaned, louder this time. His back arched up off the sleeping bag, unable to control his body anymore, even though he wanted to.
Your other hand went to his hair again, stroking it gently. "Look at you. So cute. And I haven't even started riding you."
"IâI'll do anythin'! Just wanna come for ya⊠fuck! I'll be good!"
"Oh, I know you'll be good," you giggled. "But good boys wait. Good boys hold it back."
"Please," Daryl whimpered in response. "Please, please, pleaseâŠ"
You hushed him, cupping his cheek as he shook, letting it overwhelm him. Every twitch. Every breath. Every bit of feelings he didn't know how to handle.
"That's it, baby," you encouraged him. "Good boys come when they're told... Do it."
His whole body jerked and tensed up. A quiet, choked groan, a full-body tremble, and then a broken moan that ripped itself from his throat as he cameâhardâright in your hand.
You felt Daryl's cum shoot into his boxers, his cock pulsing against your palm while he gasped for breath, hoping that maybe you wouldn't see how ashamed he was.
"N-no," he whimpered to himself. "IâI didn't wanna! Fuck!"
"You didn't want to?" You teased softly, licking your lips. "Seemed like your dick had other plans."
Daryl groaned again as he let himself fall back down onto the sleeping bag, his hands covering his face, totally embarrassed. He didn't even realize your hand was still inside his pants, but you felt him shiver beneath you, his cock still throbbing in your grip.
He was quiet. Not because he didn't have anything to sayâbut because he didn't know how to handle this situation. Even when his sticky cum in his pants had to be starting to feel awkward, he just lay there, soon with his hands over his face.
But eventually, you moved just a little and smiled, "Let me clean you up."
Daryl stiffened immediately. "Ya don't gottaâ"
"No arguing. Be quiet. Give me something to clean you with. I want to. Now."
He flinched at that as if it hurt more than helped, but he obeyed, reaching for a cloth near him. You sat up gently and took it from him, just when he tried to push you back downâhis hand on your body feeling so unsure, like he didn't even know how to ask you not to leave. But you just kissed his forehead.
"Just a few seconds, sweet boy. Then you can go back to hugging me."
It made Daryl grumble, but he let go. You pulled his pants and boxers down slowly, cleaning him up with care. Like taking care of him was just what you did. And Daryl watched in silence. Red in the face, lips parted, still breathing a little too fast.
He didn't say thank you. But his hand found your thigh, poking it to make you notice him. It was a nervous apology for coming too soon, for shaking too hard, and for needing too much.
Once you were done, you smiled and kissed his forehead again. Then you crawled back into his arms, and this time, you were facing each other. Daryl's hand trembled where it rested on your back. Not from exhaustionâthough you knew he was exhaustedâbut from a little bit of fear. So you hugged him. Let him breathe. Let him come down for a while. And when he finally spoke, it was so quiet you almost missed it.
"Yer not⊠just doin' this 'causeâI dunno," He started. "Told ya⊠ya don't gotta pretend."
You tilted his face up, kissing the tip of his nose. "Daryl. Stop. Stop it right there."
Without saying anything, he put his head beneath your chin, one arm trying to pull you closer. You were still shirtless, and you felt the way his breath stuttered against your skin when his cheek pressed to your tits once more, but he didn't try to pull away this time. Didn't want you to cover up, either.
He just grumbled something into your skin, probably some curses, and you couldn't help but giggle. Another grumble. And his arm only held you tighter.
"You know⊠I know that you know that Maggie and Glenn went to the town not far from here, right? The pharmacy's still got a stash⊠I bet," you smirked, kissing his hair.
That made him lift his head just a little more. "What kinda stash?" He asked, confused.
"Oh, I dunno. Things a girl might need. Like... lip balm. Some body lotion. Maybe even condoms."
You ran your fingers through his hair again, and Daryl stared at you. Clearly shocked. His mouth opened, but he couldn't say anything, just like before.
"And if there are still some left," you added in a thoughtful voice, "maybe I'd put on that pink dress⊠Let you lay back. Let me climb on and ride you until I come."
Daryl whined. Honest-to-God whined and dropped his face back against your tits so fast it made you laugh. "Oh, you like that idea," you teased, stroking the back of his neck.
Without answering that question, he nuzzled deeper against your tits, praying that if he hid there long enough, the shame would go away. You stayed like this a little longer, just feeling the way his body stayed tense against yours, but Daryl feared that maybe if he moved again, he'd come a second time just from breathing the air you were breathing as well.
"Hey," you soon whispered into his hair.
A muffled grunt answered you.
"I've been thinkingâŠ"
Another grunt. Thinking was clearly dangerous right now.
"About that pink dress you got me," you smiled against his head, sliding your fingers up the back of his neck gently. He didn't say anything. But you could feel the answer.
Leaning back just enough to search for his gaze, you looked down at him. His eyes, still a little glassy, still wide and panicked, blinked up at you.
"Daryl," you continued, "do you want me to wear it for you?"
His mouth dropped open. Then shut it again. "IâI dunnoâŠ"
"You don't know?" You asked sweetly. "Or do you not want to say it out loud?"
He looked away fast, so you just giggled and cupped his cheek. "It's okay. You don't have to say it. But maybeâŠ" You let your thumb slide slowly across his skin, making him shiver. "Maybe I should try it on right now."
His whole body tensed up immediately when you pulled away, trying to reach for the bag where the dress was still inside, along with the other things he'd scavenged.
"What? No... No, don't!" Daryl reached for your wrist, panicking, but his pants were still half-down his thighs, and he couldn't move worth shit. "Just wait! I didn't... I justâfuck!"
But you were already crawling to the other side of his tent as you reached for the bag to get your hands on that dress again.
"Don't," he still begged, sitting up halfway but unable to stop you. "Ain'tâjust⊠Just wear it t'morrow!"
You turned to look at him, though you were a little confused by his weird reaction. "I could wear it tomorrow, or I could just wear it right now. Where is the difference? Why are you freaking out about a dress?"
"I ain't freakin' out!" He snapped back, his voice rising, and yanked his boxers and pants completely down to get them off and to finally move. "Just don'tâain't no need for ya to wear it now!"
"Daryl, stop⊠I'm sorry, but," you laughed, grabbing the bag anyway, "now I have to wear it. Whether you like it or not. And I think you will like it. Calm down."
Daryl groaned and dropped back flat onto the sleeping bag, his hands covering his face. "Jesus...shitâŠ"
You pulled the first couple of items out that you've seen before: the canned food, the bottle of water, the medicine, and other hygiene things that he probably got for you. But once you reached for the dress, your hand touched something else at the bottom of the bag.
Pulling it out slowly and turning it over in your hands, you had to blink several times in disbelief.
"...Daryl." He didn't answer, and you stared at the condoms in your hand. "Are these⊠what I think they are?"
He groaned once more and turned his head away from you, feeling how the shame was about to kill him. "I ain'tâI wasn'tâI just found âem!"
"Found them?" You responded, grinning by now. "And you just happened to put them safely into the bottom of your bag? For what, for emergencies?"
He grumbled something you couldn't make out, so you turned back and got closer to him, waving the condoms in front of his face on purpose. "Daryl Dixon," you whispered playfully, "you got these because of me."
"Nah. I didn't."
"You little liar," you smirked. "You didn't think I'd find out? Or were you just hopingyou'd need them in the future?"
"I didn't even think ya'dâ" He sat up finally, his face red all over, and ran a hand through his hair. "I ain't even know if they're good; I justâŠ"
Leaning in close, you reached down between you both, putting your hand on his thigh and feeling him shiver. "You've been dreaming about fucking me, haven't you, Daryl?"
His breath hitched.
"Don't worry, baby. I won't do anything⊠yet. ButâŠ" You leaned in to whisper right into his ear. "I love knowing that you thought about it."
Moving slowly, you gently pushed him back down by the chest until he lay flat again, with his eyes shut tight and parted lips.
"I should reward you," you continued, crawling onto him. "For being brave enough to even think about it."
Daryl's hands twitched at his sides as you straddled him, not right against his cock, but close enough.
"Undo my pants," you smiled, and he froze. "You heard me."
"IâI don'tâŠ" His voice cracked. "I neverâ"
"Doesn't matter," you promised, nuzzling his neck now. "All you gotta do is use your hands."
With shaky fingers, he actually reached for your waistband, but still, he looked at you once, pleading in confusion, and you gave him a nod. "Go on, baby. You can do that."
The button popped open under his fingers.
"Good boy," you praised softly. "Now the zipper."
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. But he did it. Slowly. Carefully.
You moved your hips to help him, watching as he opened your pants, and when your panties peeked out beneath them, Daryl let out another shaky breath.
"Want me to take them off for you?" You asked, all gentle and sweet.
He nodded fast. Desperate. Unsure if he should've said no and shaken his head instead, especially since he didn't know what you'd say next.
"No⊠You do it."
"W-what?" He asked in shock, staring at you.
"You're the one who wants to see," you teased. "So go on, sweetheart. Take them off as well. Not just my pants."
He was breathing harder again now, his chest rising and falling fast, his hands shaking like he didn't dare to touch.
"Don't be scared. You won't hurt me. I promise."
Slowly, shakily, his hands slid to your waistband. With a quiet grunt and a whole lot of effort, he tugged them down your hips.
"Iâ" His voice cut off into another broken groan. He was getting hard again. You could feel it. Your position over his thighs was perfect, and that little bit of pressure was definitely waking up his cock.
"Shit⊠PleaseâŠ" He begged, though he probably didn't even know what he was asking for.
But it didn't matter. You were going to give it to him anyway. Let him take off your panties. Let him see everything.
Out of nowhere, you stood up and got off of him slowly. He was still laid out on the sleeping bag, not wanting to move unless told to. Picking the pink dress back up from where you left it, you watched the way Daryl's eyes stayed on you while you played around with it.
"You want me to put this on for you, baby?" You asked, your voice sounding as sweet as sugar. "Me wearing this while I ride your dick like I promised?"
Daryl let out another groan and tried to hide his face behind his forearm.
"Oh no. Don't be shy now," you grinned, getting him to peek at you from under his arm in return, trying not to smile in embarrassment.
You held the dress up and slowly put it on, not pulling it all the way down just yetâonly down to your hips, holding it there. You knew what you were doing, and so did he.
"You're thinking about it right now, aren't you? Me in this little thing⊠climbing on top of you, telling you how to fuck me? Or maybe I'd ride you with it bunched up around my waist, my tits out of the top for you to suck on like beforeâŠ"
Daryl whimpered again with a visibly harder cock that wanted more, even if he wasn't sure he should.
Stepping further away from him, you pointed down at the end of his sleeping bag in front of you. "Crawl to me."
Daryl wasn't sure he'd heard you right and tilted his head.
"You heard me. Crawl. To. Me."
He opened his mouth to protest, but you looking at him like that stopped him before a word came out. Shame-faced and trembling, he started to move. And it wasn't exactly graceful. Daryl was awkward as hell trying to crawl with his cock hardening against his thigh, but he did itâhands on the ground, knees following as he moved closer, his face burning red the entire way.
Reaching down, you grabbed his jaw to make him look at you. "Good boy," you praised him with a smile. "Do you really want me to wear this dress when I ride you? Tell me."
"Y-yeah," he nodded shakily.
You smirked, letting out a relaxed sigh. "You really wanna be inside me while I'm wearing it, huh?" Another whimper. A twitch from his cock below. "But you know what you have to do first, don't you?"
Daryl swallowed, looking away from you. "N-no?"
You grinned a little and slid your other hand into the waistband of your panties but didn't pull them down. "You still need to take these off for me. But not with your hands."
He stared at you again, lips parted, a confused expression on his face. "Huh?"
"With your mouth, Daryl," you answered dryly, biting your tongue after those words left you.
His eyes widened. "With⊠with myâmyâŠ"
"Use your teeth," you continued sweetly, letting go of his jaw. "I'm not using my hands. And neither are you. Go on."
Daryl stared at what was in front of him, right at your panties, swallowing hard. And you? You just stepped a little closer. Close enough that your thighs were almost touching his face. "Do it, Dixon."
He stopped, but then you felt his breath on your skin as he leaned in, trembling. With his mouth open, he slowly caught the edge of the waistband between his lips, his nose pressing against your lower stomach. You gasped softly as the warmth of his breath hit your skin, his teeth barely biting into the fabric as he pulled at it. It took everything in you not to moan at how careful he was.
Working your panties down awkwardly slow, Daryl was clearly unsure if he was doing it right. But you just sighed calmly and stroked his hair, praising him further. "That's it. You're doing so good. Keep going, sweetheart."
He grunted, pulling them further down inch by inch, kissing your skin accidentally between his pulls, his stubble brushing your inner thighâand by the time they slipped past your hips, his nose was buried close enough to your pussy that you felt his shaky breath there.
"That's good, baby. Now pull them all the way down."
Daryl obeyed. His teeth pulled them lower until your panties dropped to your ankles, and you stepped out of them, one foot at a time. You bent to pick them up, but not before giving him a full view of your pussy. Though you didn't have to askâhis eyes were already staring, wide and stunned.
"Gonna let me ride your dick with nothing but this pretty little dress on?" You asked once more to get his attention back, running your fingers over your thigh.
No answer.
You looked down at his cock; by now it was already leaking.
"Now, look at that," you smirked. "I think you liked that more than you want to admit."
Daryl simply nodded, his hands twitching like he wanted to touch you, to taste, but was too scared to do so.
"Can you wait for me?" You asked, wanting to calm him down softly. "Can you stay good a little longer?"
He nodded when you leaned down, giving him another kiss on the mouth, slow and soft, before you took a few steps toward the bag, grabbing one of the condoms. Daryl was still kneeling, his eyes looking from your fingers to your face, trying to commit the whole moment to memory in case it was just a fever dream in the end, even after everything that has happened so far.
"Lie back down."
Crouching down after you said those words and helping Daryl with pushing him onto his back again, you suddenly moved to press a kiss to the tip of his cockâjust a quick oneâand he almost sobbed. You then crawled up into his lap, straddling him, your pussy just above it, not touching it yet.
"Arms over your head," you said next, watching as he obeyed without any words.
Stretching them and holding one wrist with one of his hands made his biceps flex instantly, while he himself was looking all helpless beneath you.
That was the moment you were the one almost losing your mindâjust because of him.
You hadn't expected how immensely strong he looked laid out like that. The second his arms flexed, you stopped breathing. No, you hadn't expected it at all. You'd known he was strong, sureâyears of hunting, tracking, and surviving lifeâbut seeing it? Your mouth went dry.
"GoddamnâŠ" You stammered before you could stop yourself, blushing slightly.
Meanwhile, Daryl looked at you kind of confused, not understanding what was wrong. "What?"
"N-nothing," you answered quickly, hoping he wasn't able to notice the effect he had on you. "Just⊠stay still. Eyes on me."
He obeyed again. Good boy. Too good. So good that you had to let out a deep, long breath. And he saw it. But you caught yourself quickly, pressing your thighs a little together to hold back the trembling building between them, your knees pushing against either side of his hips.
"Don't move," you whispered. "Not a muscle."
Leaning back ever so slightly and spreading your legs wide enough to show off everything, you then slid your hand down the dress. "You will stay quiet and watch me," you explained to him. "That's all you're allowed to do for now."
You slid your fingers down over your belly, past the edge of the dress, and let your touch slip between your thighs, making your breath hitch, and his too. Daryl's hips twitched slightly, but he still didn't move his arms. He just bit his lower lip, which was trembling a bit now. But you kept your movements slow. One finger was sliding between your pussy folds, parting them. Then two fingers, spreading them wider and teasing yourself, rubbing them softly over your clit while you moanedâjust for him.
Daryl groaned in return, and you pushed your fingers deeper, pressing inside enough to feel how wet you were before pulling them out and bringing them back to your mouth. You sucked one finger cleanâstill watching himâand his body shivered, his fists clenching where they lay above his head.
"Poor baby," you teased him on purpose. "You're trying so hard, aren't you?"
Daryl nodded desperately. No words, just him nodding, wanting you to save him from himself. Then, he did something again that made you stop.
Only one thing.
One tiny, unplanned, accidental thing.
Something he'd done since you'd woken him from grinding and humping against your ass in his sleep. It was him looking at you. But not at your tits, not at your pussy, but at your face. Daryl looked up at you with those goddamn blue eyes, as if he was already in love with you and wanting you to notice that this wasn't only about lustâit was all about you, you, you.
"God⊠f-fuck⊠Daryl," you whispered with a shaky voice.
Immediately grabbing for the condom next to you, you quickly bit at the edge of it, fast, tearing the package open with your teeth. Daryl's eyes went wide in confusion as you held the torn wrapper between your teeth, letting him see it there while you stared him down, lips parted around the piece you bit off, before spitting it away to the side.
Taking out the condom and throwing the rest of the package away, you moved lower over his body until your face was right above his cock. You watched Daryl flinch, his legs tensing as you reached out, gently wrapping your fingers around his shaft. He hissed through his teeth, whimpering at the feeling of your touch.
"Hush now," you whispered and began pumping him slowly, with just your fingertips at first. He throbbed in your hand, his head dropping back against the sleeping bag as you worked him up.
Still keeping your eyes looking at his, you leaned down toward his cock and pressed your lips to the tip, making it leak even harder, but you did manage to hold him still.
Smirking at him next, you brought the condom to your face instead, putting the ring of it carefully between your lips, and used only your mouth to roll it down over his shaft, inch by inch, holding his shaft steady with one hand. It took effort. But you managed it. When the condom finally slid all the way down, you pulled back, leaning over him again and letting your tits press against his chest.
Daryl moaned quietly, so you just kissed him againâreally kissed him.
Not like before. This time, you kissed him roughly, letting your tongue slide into his mouth. He gasped and shivered under you, his tongue all clumsy but wanting more, his body shaking all over.
"Look at you," you whispered against his jaw when you pulled back. "Lying there and just waiting for me to fuck you."
Daryl swallowed hard at your words. Then you moved, sitting upright on his thighs and moving forward until your pussy pressed to the length of his cock, still not letting him inside, just grinding yourself down along the shaft.
The warmth of his cock, the shape⊠Shit, it felt good.
"F-fuck," Daryl breathed out when you rocked forward again, sliding up slowly, notching the tip ever so slightly against your clit before grinding back down.
"Shitâpleaseâfuck."
You laughed as a response, short and sweet, and reached up to grab one of the straps of the dress, letting it slip slowly off your shoulder. It slid down, giving him another chance to look at your tits again.
"Wanna suck?" You asked him, and he nodded helplessly, staring up at you with an overwhelmed expression.
Leaning back down, you offered it to him. His mouth found your tit instantly, his lips sucking on your nipple while you kept grinding down along his cock. You could feel how close he was again, his cock throbbing with every little movement.
"God," you moaned. "You make me feel so good, Daryl..."
He whimpered against your skin, sucking harder at your nipple, until you straightened up, letting it slip from his mouth, only to reach down and grip his cock, guiding the tip right where you wanted it to be next.
That first momentâsimply letting the tip of his cock push against your soaked pussyâwas almost too much. Even through the condom, you felt everything. The thickness. The throbbing of it. The sheer size of him.
Jesus Christ. He really was big.
Then, slowly, so goddamn slowly, you sank down onto him. The tip of his cock pushed into you with such a deep, thick stretch, it made you both moanâlouder and longer, but not too loud. And you took your time. Letting inch after inch of his cock fill you up until he was completely inside, your ass pressing down onto his lap.
"Holy⊠holy shit," you breathed out, half-laughing, half-groaning, your hands now on his chest to steady yourself as you rocked your hips forward, letting yourself feel him pulsing inside. "Daryl, you'reâfuckâŠ"
Looking down at him, Daryl choked on another moan, but still, he didn't look. That wouldn't do.
"Look at me, baby."
He shook his head, his eyes still squeezed shut. "Can't."
"Why not?"
"Don't wanna fuck it up," he sobbed in return. Your heart damn near broke at that, but you didn't let it show. Instead, you reached out to caress his cheek.
"You're not doing anything wrong. You're doing good. Now open those eyes and look at me."
His eyes opened slowly, almost afraid, but when he looked up at you, they seemed to relax.
And shit, there was that same look on his face again, giving away that he'd never seen anything so unreal in his life. You, in that pink dress, breathing hard, your tits bouncing just slightly as you ground your pussy on his cock, your eyes looking into his like you owned him. Like this moment, this manâwas yours.
"There we go," you whispered. "Keep your eyes on me."
And then you lifted yourself just a bit, leaving only the tip of his cock inside of you before you sank back down.
Your mouth dropped open as he slid in again, inch by aching inch, and all you could do was to start riding him fasterâand you meant itâyour hips rolling, your ass slapping against his thighs. And the more you moved, the harder it was to stay calm. Especially when you looked at his reactions.
"Keep looking," you reminded him with a breathless voice.
Daryl tried; he really did. But his eyes looked down, then back to your face with another loud groan. His hips pushed up once, involuntarily, and you whimpered at the sudden, deep, rough thrust.
"Oh, fuck! Y-you like watching it go in, don't you?"
Daryl bit his lip and nodded, but then looked back at your face as if it was the most important part of you.
Smiling, you began to move faster again, your rhythm picking up, riding him harder now, which had both of you gasping, cursing, and trembling. Your soaked pussy was taking him again and again, his cock filling you so perfectly, stretching you with every movement, so deep you could barely concentrate.
And you loved it. Loved how shy he looked while his cock was buried inside you, loved how he watched you so insecurely, not wanting to hurt you.
Your hands moved to your tits, pulling out the other one, squeezing them right in front of him, and pinching your nipples as you bounced on his cock. That got you a gruntâand a broken, whispered, "Goddamn..."
Now he was really watching.
"Yeah⊠just like that," you breathed. "That's it, baby. Watch me."
He moaned again, his mouth open now, totally lost.
And you were getting close. You could feel itâthe way your clit ground down against him just right, the muscles of your thighs aching from the effort of riding him. But you didn't stop. You could feel him fighting it, staying still beneath you, letting you use him just like you'd promised. But then he bucked again. Out of nowhere, his hips thrust up once more.
"Oh Godâfuck!" You nearly screamed, your whole body tensing up as the thick tip of his cock slammed as deep into you as it possibly could.
Your hands searched for his shoulders as you struggled to hold on, and Daryl instantly panicked. "ShitâIâI didn't mean to!"
Not wanting to answer him, one of your hands grabbed for his wrists, holding them down roughly.
"Don't move," you hissed, but your voice cracked, sounding more like begging than an actual command he'd have to follow.
Daryl's biceps flexed, though he didn't resist as you leaned down, kissing him at first, only to bite him next, right on the muscles of one arm. Your lips left a bruise, your teeth a mark, and still you didn't stop moving, your pussy continuing to clench around his cock.
You couldn't even talk anymore. All the words were gone. All you had left were the noises you made. Breathy, broken moans. Shaky, little whimpers every time his cock filled you up completely. Soft, short gasps that escaped between kisses to his arms, his neck, his shoulderâanywhere you could reach his body with your mouth, but without ever letting go of his wrists.
"Fuck, fuckâŠ" Daryl was groaning beneath you, ragged and fast, his muscles twitching under your grip.
He was trying his hardest to hold back, knowing it would be beyond any kind of hope if he let his body continue to respond to your every little touch.
You felt drunk on it. Wild. Overstimulated and insatiable all at once. Then it hit you, that deep feeling inside that told you that your orgasm was coming fast, and you barely managed to choke out the warning.
"S-shit! I'm about toâ"
You had to slow down. With shaking hands, you let go of his wrists, putting your palms on his thighs instead, and leaned backâarching your body and trying to keep calm. It was right there⊠right there.
"Hold me," you then gasped. "Now. Please."
Daryl obeyed. His hands quickly moved to your hips, trembling and sweaty, but still as strong as always. And as soon as he gripped you, it slowed down everything. You didn't exactly know if time had stopped, but it sure felt like it. Just long enough to see him.
"Look at me," you whispered. He already was, and you knew that, but you felt the need to convince yourself that he wouldn't look away.
"I don't want to come without you⊠I want to come with you. With."
You weren't sure if you were begging or controlling anymoreâmaybe it was both. Maybe that's what desperation looked like on you: shaking, wet, aching, and stretched full with him, your voice almost nothing but that one plea.
With.
Daryl's fingers tightened just a little on your hips, but he didn't answer. His mouth opened in hopes to answer, to say anything, and to give you everything in return, but nothing came out except a long, needy moan that turned into a needy, broken sound as you rolled your hips slower, with Daryl feeling himself twitch inside you.
"Please," you said again, but this time it was quieter. You were so close it almost hurtâit was just too muchâbut you waited. You held it back with every bit of strength you had left. Simply to make sure.
Daryl looked done, even scared to let it happen. "'M tryin'âŠ"
His voice broke off, and you nearly screamed. Everything inside you tensed up. "Come with me, Daryl, come on⊠Touch me."
His hands finally grabbed your ass hard, pushing you down onto his cock, and his hips bucked up into you, uncontrolled now, losing himself. Then it hit you both at once.
You cried out but didn't care. Couldn't hold back the sob as you came hard on his cock, taking your breath away, your everything. Daryl came the same second. You felt it. The way he shook. The way he groaned with his lips trembling and eyes squeezed shut as his cock pulsed hard inside you.
As soon as it was over, you leaned forward, your forehead touching his, kissing him softly several times in a row. And for a while, neither of you moved. Nothing but the sound of panting. Of hearts trying to calm down. And Daryl⊠poor Daryl looked like he wasn't sure he'd survived it.
"Still with me, sweetheart?"
He didn't answer at first but nodded. His voice, when it came, was sounding kind of hoarse and unsure.
"Y-yeah⊠I⊠goddamn..." He trailed off, burying his face in your neck, without being able to stop himself from remembering something. Something he'd already been trying to push away, probably the moment it happened.
"Ya bit me," he then whispered, his voice quiet like he was trying not to draw attention to it. "âS'pose that was on purpose?"
Looking back at him, you raised an eyebrow, smiling knowingly. Not teasing in a way that might confuse him. Just amused. And maybe still a little⊠hungry.
"What, you didn't like it?"
Daryl looked away instantly. "N-no, I, uh, I didn't say that. I justâ" He swallowed loudly. "Was kinda⊠surprised, I guess."
"Surprised?" You repeated, moving your hand across his chest and further until it stopped above the spot on his biceps that you'd bitten. Biting your bottom lip, you then grinned at Daryl as if you were about to devour him all over again. "I simply told you to keep still."
"But I didâŠ"
Your smile turned into a tiny smirk. "Then maybe I was simply proud of you."
Daryl didn't know what to do with that answer. You could see it in the way he looked at you. He looked like a man who'd never been praised for anything except maybe not dying. "Flex your arms for me..."
"What?"
You pulled back just far enough to look right into his eyes again, your hand not leaving one of his strong arms. "I told you to flex for me. Be a good boy and flex your arms again. Come on, show me."
Daryl closed his eyes and still hesitated. Really hesitated. His brows were furrowed in thought, checking if you were messing with him. Knowing that his first instinct was to run away from being seen again, you continued to wait patiently until he breathed out slowly through his nose and obeyed. The muscles under your touch tensed, feeling ever so strong and still trembling a little from everything you'd done to him before.
Hell, he had no idea what that did to you.
You immediately leaned down and dragged your mouth along his bicep, soft at first, just a teasing little kiss. Then your tongue came out, licking along it until he shuddered, before your lips were pressed to the mark you'd left earlier, sucking a little harder this time.
"Shit," Daryl whispered. "What're ya doin'âŠ"
But he didn't stop you.
"I'm making sure you know," you said quietly, pulling back again, "that you didn't imagine this."
He didn't answer, but his eyes looked at his arm to where your lips had just been, then back up to your face, unable to believe it. As if all of thisâyour mouth, your voice, your gentlenessâwas too much to understand. And that was when you could feel how something changed. It wasn't even noticeable at first. The way his hands twitched and then went still. The way he stopped looking at you, even though your face was still so close to his.
"Hey, hey," you whispered softly. "Daryl, are you okay?"
His jaw clenched and his shoulders stiffened further beneath you, making him uncomfortable. "âŠYeah."
"Did I hurt you?" You sat up a little, carefully, and that's when he hissed again.
"N-no," he answered with a strained voice, not really convincing you.
"Okay, okay, wait," you whispered, slowly lifting yourself off him, trying to be gentle, but he winced again, his eyes squeezing shut as his cock slipped out. He turned his face to the side, biting down on his tongue, wishing it would help, since he didn't want you to hear him make another pitiful sound.
Once you slipped off him, you instinctively reached down to take care of the condom. Kneeling between his legs, your fingers cautiously slipped it off, tying it together and tossing it aside without saying anything, trying to keep things quiet.
But Daryl was trembling again by now. He was lying there with his face turned away, seemingly chewing on the inside of his cheek with his teeth. His hands were curled into fists on either side of him, his arms all stiff, not knowing what to do with them anymore.
Daryl only then realized that you'd pulled off him. Not because you weren't on him anymore, riding him. No, you weren't with him anymore. That was when his thoughts started screaming. That this was over. That you got what you wanted, and now you'd realize what an asshole he was underneath it all. He hated how much he wanted to pull you back down. Onto his lap. Onto his cock. Onto him. Just to feel safe again. Just to feel needed. But he didn't say a word. Didn't even breathe right.
Reaching out to caress his chest, you were caught off guard the second your fingertips touched him, his arm shooting out, grabbing your wrist.
You gasped, and Daryl realized what he was doing too late. His eyes snapped open, and he instantly let go. You pulled back a little from the shock of it, holding your wrist, and the expression on his face?
He looked like someone had just hit him. "Fuck, 'm sorry! This ain'tâ"
"Hey, it's okay," you cut him off fast, holding up your hands, even though your heart was still racing a little bit. "It's okay, Daryl. You didn't hurt me. I'm fine. I'm okay."
But you weren't sure he heard you when he sat up. His face was turning pale now, his hands shaking as he slid them through his hair, back and forth, over and over again. He was grumbling somethingâprobably to himselfâbut you couldn't make it out.
"Daryl," you said softly, still kneeling in front of him, but he didn't look at you. His eyes were somewhere else, far away.
"I fuckin' touched ya like that," he finally whispered. "Grabbed ya."
"Yeah, and then you let go," you said gently, but your voice was shaking now too, but not because of any pain he thought he'd caused. "Daryl, you didn't hurt me."
Then you realized he wasn't breathing right. Short, shallow gasps, like he was trying not to cry or scream or vomit. Or maybe all three.
"I ain't like that," he whispered. "I ain'tâI ain't him!"
You didn't know who 'him' was, but your heart sank at the sound of it. Some memory, or so it seemed. Some long-buried monster, maybe.
Daryl looked at you once again. But there was no man in front of you. He looked like beforeâjust a boy. A boy who never got held after someone hurt him. A boy who was taught that love was dangerous and wanting love made you weak. A boy who'd never been looked at like he was wanted, let alone loved, and now that he'd let you see all of himâlet you use him, take him, and especially care for himâit was too much. And now the shame was devouring him from the inside out.
"I fuckin' spat on ya," he then remembered. "Treated ya like shit. Told ya that ya were nothin' but some fuckin'⊠useless dumbassâŠ"
"Darylâ"
"Ya should hate me," he simply continued, louder this time. "Ya should. Ya should hate me, ya should leave, shit, ya should go!"
He moved to get up, but his knees wouldn't let him the second he stood. His legs gave out, and you caught him in time, your arms wrapping around him as he leaned against you, trembling harder.
"Daryl, hey⊠hey," you quickly said, holding him up, or trying to as best as you could. "I'm here. Listen to me⊠I won't leave. I won't."
Pressing his face into your shoulder, he didn't answer you and went silent. Breathing hard. Twitching a little in your arms like he was cold. Or scared. Or both. You sat down slowly, pulling him with you, holding him in your arms, sensing that he didn't know how to hold himself up anymore. You didn't do anything else for a while. You only held him.
Eventually, you felt one little, wet drop hit your naked chest. Then another.
And you said nothing, but Daryl had gone quiet now, with his forehead pressed against your collarbone. Eventually, he tried to put one of his arms around your waist, and the twitching of his muscles definitely wasn't the good kind. They twitched way too fast for someone who wasn't really moving.
As soon as you moved slightly away from him, he sobbed in shock, thinking you would really just leave.
"Easy, baby. Just grabbing something for you."
Daryl's eyes followed you, wide and glassy, unsure if he should stop you or not, so you gave him a tiny smileâjust enough to convince him you weren't going anywhere for real. Then you crouched by the corner of his tent, searching through the clothing you left on the ground. His pants, your panties, his boxers, your bra, and your shirt were all tangled together, looking through it until you found what you were searching for.
The flannel shirt you gave him. You picked it up and brought it back over to where he was still half-sitting, dazed and shivering.
"Arms up," you whispered, remembering how you'd told him those same two words before.
But Daryl only sobbed.
"Come on now," you said gently, watching how he moved awkwardly and unsure. "Only the shirt."
You slipped the sleeves on, one at a time, then buttoned the middle lazily. Not all the way. Just enough so it wouldn't slip off his shoulders if he moved again.
Then you leaned in and kissed his forehead. "Lie down."
He did. Not all the way at first, but once he did, you lay down next to him, pulling the edges of the sleeping bag slightly over both of you, hugging him close until his leg rested over your hip, your hand on his chest, and his forehead against your temple.
You thought maybe Daryl would fall asleep like that. But his breath stuttered.
And the next sob came out of him so suddenly, so harsh, it didn't even sound like crying. It sounded like a choke. Like his body was wanting to push away the pain and couldn't keep it in.
Daryl then grabbed onto you like he was scared, and you could barely keep him still. Even with both arms around his shoulders, his sobs cracked, and he stuttered every time he tried to apologize, repeating it over and over as if it were the only words left in his throat.
"âŠ'M sorry. 'M sorry. 'M sorryâŠ"
"I know," you whispered and kissed his cheek. "I know. I know."
It went on for a while. You lost track of how long. Could've been ten minutes. Could've been thirty. But you didn't care. Eventually, Daryl's crying stopped. He was still trembling, but not violently. His hands relaxed around you, though they didn't let go.
"Daryl?" A hum was the only answer you got. "Can I ask you something?"
This time, he didn't answer with a hum. Just a slight nod, the tiniest one, like it was all he could manage.
"I wanted to know," you started softly. "When you came out of the woods and went up to the RVâŠ" You waited, wanting to see if he remembered what you meant or if he would simply brush it off.
"Just gave Carol a damn flower..."
You nodded and smiled. Not a big smile. Not the kind that told him he did something wrong or something right. It was a quiet, understanding little smile, as if saying, I understand.
But once Daryl realized you weren't answering him, he looked up at you like he couldn't figure out why you weren't mad. Or confused. Or disgusted. Or whatever he thought he deserved. His hand then came up fast, moving in a way that wasn't really familiar for him, with his fingertips brushing against your lower lip once while looking at your mouth. And for a second, it really did feel like the world had gone normal again. As if all that crying and shame and panic never existed.
For you, it seemed Daryl just needed to remind himself that you were real. That your mouth hadn't cursed him out in secret, hadn't spat in his face like he used to do to you. That you were still kind. Still looking at him like he wasn't just white trash.
You then kissed the tip of his finger gently. That was all it took to undo him again. His eyes got wet instantly, and the little shaky breath he took like he was trying not to cry againâit hurt you. Moving closer, your nose bumped against his, one of your hands moving to caress his cheek with the back of it. His skin was still a little sweaty, and he swiped under his eye, even though the tears hadn't fallen again yet.
"You don't have to look at me like that," you whispered.
His voice cracked. "Like what?"
"Like you expect me to leave for good."
Daryl looked at your arm then, the one with the healing injury where you'd sliced it open, the one he thought he was guilty of, in shame and silence. He looked so tired. So tired from thinking that he was the one that almost killed you.
"I don't know what you told Carol," you then continued gently, brushing your nose along his cheek. "But you got her that rose for a reason, right?"
He swallowed once but didn't answer.
"She's not me," you whispered with a smile. "And I'm not her. But I understand."
That got him. He wasn't sure if he should move, if he should do what his twitching hands wanted to do right now. To hold you in his arms as well.
So you reached down and took one of his hands in yours and brought it to your chest. Laid it flat right over your heart. "I know the story," you continued. "The history of the Cherokee roses."
Daryl's lips were parting slightly, but he was nodding in silence.
"That flower only grew when their women cried. Their tears watered it. And when it bloomed, it protected them. It gave them strength. So they were able to keep going. So they could protect again as well."
"Yeah..."
You smiled when Daryl finally spoke, but still, you wanted to remain careful. "It's kinda like... it's a promise."
He tilted his head, still looking unsure.
"Like⊠no matter how hard it gets, no matter how much shit is in the way," you said, sliding your finger lightly over his chest through the flannel shirt, "there's this rose that grows. It's the courage to keep going, the strength to protect what matters. It sounds familiar, don't you think? Thinking it's invisible... but still holding on. Still here."
"But I hurt yaâŠ" He answered and immediately buried his face in your neck, reaching for your waist so hard that it almost bruised, but not from aggression. Just panic and instinct.
"You didn't mean to. You were scared. You still are."
You looked Daryl straight in the eye so he wouldn't flinch too far away. His lip trembled. Then he did it anyway, apologizing again.
Sighing softly, you pulled his arm a bit tighter around you, letting him feel how warm you still were, how unbothered, how there.
"You're not a bad man, Daryl," you smiled. "But you're a man who got too used to losing."
He didn't answer but held you again, this time much more gently. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other sliding up your back, then stopping like he was still afraid he'd fuck it up. But you just cuddled close and let him.
For once in his whole life, someone was feeling warm, safe, and simply there, and it was him getting to keep it. And for the first time since the world ended, Daryl Dixon let himself fall asleep with someone in his armsâwith no fear, no distance, no shame, and no guilt.
Just with you.
And he slept like he knew you'd still be there come morning.
Summary: Youâve been teasing Daryl all dayâbrushing up against him, bending over just enough to give him a view, and letting out soft, breathy sighs during your run at the warehouse. You didnât know what would happen when he finally snapped. But when he does, youâre not ready for just how unhinged he can be.
notes: hope you're okay with some dark!daryl
Warnings: SMUT: Daryl calls you a bitch but not like that youâre a bitch but in reference to like a dog, feral af daryl. animalistic daryl. biting, dirty talk. unprotected sex, 0 pull out. Rough. ooc. again uhhhh sorry! enjoy!
The warehouse is dark, lit only by thin streams of fading daylight that cut through broken windows high above. The air smells stale, tinged with rust and dust. Youâve been weaving through rows of abandoned shelves for hours, scavenging for anything useful, but the real tension isnât in the run. Itâs in him.
Darylâs been unusually quiet todayânot just his usual quiet, but simmering, brooding. Youâve felt his eyes on you more times than you can count, catching the way his jaw tightens every time you bend down to inspect something or brush past him in the narrow aisles.
To be fair, you hadn't exactly been subtle about it all day.
Maybe, just maybe, youâve been bending down just enough to let the cheeks of your ass peek out under your shorts, reaching a little too high on tiptoes to make your shirt ride up, sighing softly when your fingers finally grip something from the shelves.
Youâre playing with fire, and you know it. And with the occasional sway of your hips, the quick glances over your shoulderâitâs all to see if he's looking. Youâre testing the waters, seeing how far you can push him before he snaps.
And snap he does.
It's when you squeeze past him in another narrow aisle, the swell of your ass brushing his lap does he freeze like a predator catching a scent.
âEnough,â he growls, his voice echoing low in the cavernous space.
You freeze, not even fully past him, glancing back at him over your shoulder. Heâs standing stock still, shoulders rigid, his crossbow hanging loosely in one hand, the other clenched into a fist at his side. His eyes burn into yours, dark and smoldering, his chest rising and falling a little too fast.
âEnough what?â you ask, feigning innocence as you widen your eyes.
âYou think I donât know what youâre doinâ?â he rasps, leaning in closer, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.
You carefully, at an agonizingly slow pace, begin to lean back into him, craning your neck as you sit back on your heels, feet firmly planted. He leans in, one hand gripping firmly on the shelf beside your head, caging you on one side. His scentâearth, sweat, and leatherâfills your senses, making your head swim.
âWhat am I doing, Daryl?â you murmur, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, your lips betraying you as they curl into a whisper of a smile.
His eyes darken, flicking to your mouth for the briefest second before snapping back to yours. âBeen gettin' under my damn skin,â he says, his voice a low growl that makes your pulse quicken. âEvery look, every wordâhell, even the way yer walkin',â
You arch a brow, feigning innocence. âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
His jaw works, the muscle flexing as his nostrils flare. He steps in close, crowding your space even more, his chest pushing up into your back. The other hand plants itself on the edge of the shelf beside your head, now completely boxing you in. His breath is warm on your neck, and your mind begins to melt at the closeness, at the way he leans in closer, like he can smell your arousal. âYeah, ya do,â he mutters, his voice rough, almost guttural.
The tension is unbearable, the air between you electric. Your heart races as you squeeze your eyes shut at the sudden rush of heat in your veins. âThen say it,â you whisper, your voice barely audible.
He pauses, and the way his breathing quickens makes you wonder if heâs waging a war with himself.
His lips hover just above your ear, âSay what?â he bites out, his tone rough, but thereâs something else there tooâsomething raw, barely masked.
Your open your eyes to look into his again, challenging: âThat you want me.â
For a moment, the world feels suspended. Youâre both holding your breath, the cold bite of the shelving against your chest, contrasting with the furnace of his body pressing against you. His hands tighten on the shelves, the tension in his body vibrating through the air between you.
Then, as if time catches up, heâs on you, spinning you around with his large hands, and his mouth crashes against yours in a way thatâs all heat and desperation.
The kiss is searing, all consuming, and you barely have time to process before Darylâs hands find your hips, pulling you against him. You shamelessly hike your leg around his waist, his one hand holding you steady by the thigh, his grip nearly bruising. The thought flickers across your mind that you hope the shelves will hold you if he were to fuck you against them, as you didn't need a loud crashing noise to draw in outside walkers.
As the thought leaves you, the shelves creak as your body presses into them, but all you can focus on is himâhis mouth, rough and demanding, and the heat radiating off his skin. His tongue is possessive as it leads the kiss, surprisingly confident and fervent on exploring your mouth.
His lips trail down, planting kisses along your jaw, then your neck. Each press of his mouth is deliberate, almost punishing, like heâs letting out all the frustration youâve stirred up in him. His scruff scrapes against your skin, leaving it tingling, and when he nips at the sensitive spot just below your ear, a gasp escapes your lips.
âDaryl,â you manage, your voice breathless, but he doesnât let up. His hand grips your waist intently, sliding beneath your shirt, the roughness of his calloused fingers are electric and heated, a stark contrast to the softness of your skin.
âYou been drivinâ me crazy all damn day,â he mutters against your throat, teeth grazing as his voice registers low and gravelly. âEvery little thingâevery damn look.â
Your back arches instinctively as his lips continue their descent, brushing along your collarbone. His palms are cupping your breasts, pushing under your bra. Heat engulfs the space between your bodies as he kneads with roughness. You gasp as his fingers find your nipples, pinching and twisting. Your own hands find the edge of his vest, fisting the worn leather as you try to ground yourself, but itâs no use. Heâs overwhelming, consuming, and the fire building inside you feels like itâs about to consume you whole.
âThought I wasnât gonna do anything, huh?â he murmurs, his voice dripping with that rugged confidence thatâs so uniquely him. His hands grip even tighter your breasts, like he can't get you close enough against him, and you can feel the strength coiled in his body, barely restrained.
âMaybe,â you whisper, your lips curling into a breathless smile.
His eyes meet your hooded gaze, dark and primal, and the intensity in them makes your breath hitch. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss, before he pulls back just enough to make you chase him. The smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth is almost taunting, and it makes your pulse quicken even more.
âYou like teasinâ me,â he says, his voice barely more than a growl. âThat it? You like pushinâ me âtil I break?"
Your breath catches, but you donât back down. Instead, you let your fingers trail up his chest, brushing against the exposed skin at the base of his throat as you grind yourself into him. âMaybe I do,â you reply, your voice trembling but steady enough to meet his challenge.
His gaze holds yours for a long, agonizing moment, and the raw, unspoken emotions swirling in his eyes leave you breathless. Then, with a sudden, deliberate motion, his hands drop to your hips, and he spins you back around, your chest pressing again against the cold metal shelving. His hands are firm but not unkind as they guide your movements, and the sharp contrast between the roughness of the metal and the press of his body makes your skin prickle with anticipation all over again.
The warmth of him vanishes as he suddenly kneels behind you, and before you can twist around to see what heâs doing, his fingers hook into your waistband and tug your shorts down in one swift motion. You yelp, the sound echoing softly in the empty warehouse. The cool air bites at your flushed skin, heightening the contrast as his hand lands sharply on your ass, the sting spreading deliciously.
A second slap follows, then a third, leaving your skin tingling as your knees wobble under the intensity. Daryl's hands steady you, gripping your hips as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your thighs. Then, his face presses between your legs, his nose brushing intimately against you, and youâre no longer worried about keeping balanceâjust consumed by the sensation.
His tongue makes contact, and it's like a spark igniting deep inside you. His nose nudges at the delicate crease between your folds and your ass, the pressure melting into pleasure as he tongues at the apex of your thighs.
His mouth makes sinful, debaucherous noises as he slurps and laps and laves at your sex, his primal groans echoing in the empty warehouse around you. You bring your own hand up to your face, covering your mouth to keep yourself quiet as pressure builds in your lower abdomen, your knees nearly giving out as he pushes his face further into your cheeks.
The emptiness inside you aches as your walls clench around nothing, the longing for him almost unbearable. His tongue is relentless, sinful in its ministrations, and the tension coiled in your core finally snaps, pleasure washing over you in waves. You cry out despite yourself, your legs trembling as you cling to the shelving for support.
Daryl doesnât stop, his mouth working you through every last pulse of your orgasm until your thighs shake with overstimulation. Only then does he pull back, rising to his feet in one fluid motion. His hands slide up your sides, teasingly slow, leaving your pants pooled at your ankles. The heat of his breath against your ear sends another shiver rippling through you.
"Like a bitch in heat," he says thickly, voice filled with arousal. You whimper, arching your neck to catch his lips in yours, the tang of yourself on his lips now coating your tongue as he kisses you with fierce need. âGonna fuck you like one now, okay, baby?â he murmurs, his voice molten against your lips.
You nod vigorously, your anticipation mounting as he fumbles with his belt. The clink of metal and the low zip of his jeans send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. The blunt tip of him presses against your entrance, and you brace yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as he begins to push inside.
Your walls clenched against him, even just the tip as it slips into you, the tug of your pussy making him suck in air through his teeth, "Fuck," he breathes, "that's it, nice n'easy,"
He moves slowly at first, inch by inch, letting you adjust to him, but the moment heâs fully seated, he's moving. His hand grips your waist, the crescents of his nails digging into the soft skin of your curves as he pulls his hips back, the vice of your walls around him making both of you curse. You probably should've gotten a look at just how big he was before agreeing to this, because the way he was stretching you out on his cock was going to ruin sex with anyone else for the rest of your life.
Daryl still hasn't bottomed out into you when he continues moving, the slap of skin and grunts and your whines echo through the warehouse as you grip the shelving with all your life. He has a sort of predatory grace as he continues pounding into you, his animalistic grunts only adding to the pleasure, your body trembling under the onslaught. Every rough drag of his cock against your walls drives you closer to another release. His movements are raw, untamed, and utterly feral, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.
His thrusts suddenly begin to become mindless, words and curses incoherently slipping past his lips. From praising you, You feel so good. What a good pup, good girl. To cursing you, Fucking tease.
âDaryl, pleaseââ you gasp, glancing back over your shoulder, but you see his blue eyes flash with menace, teeth bared as he leans closer into you.
Suddenly, his teeth are sinking into the flesh of your neck.
You cry out as his growls rumble against your skin, the sharp bite of pain blending seamlessly into a tidal wave of pleasure. Daryl had always been aloof, always more wild than the rest of the group. But this--this was absolutely feral, and you loved every fucking second. Each guttural grunt from him feeds the raw, primal energy between you, leaving you feeling like nothing more than two feral creatures in the wild, chasing your highs with reckless abandon. Your mind blanks completely as his hips slam into yours, his cock driving deep and relentless, stretching you so completely it feels like heâs splitting you in half.
Your fingers slip from the shelves as your knees weaken, but his grip on you is unrelenting, keeping you steady as he continues to take you with wild need. The coil in your core tightens unbearably, your free hand slipping between your legs to rub tight circles against your clit.
âYouâre gonna take it,â he growls against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. âEvery last fucking bit.â
You hear his grunts turn into a low, whispering chuckle as his teeth tighten in your flesh when you moan in return, unable to form words. You're sure he's going to leave marks if not blood bruises in your skin very soon. His thrusts become more and more violent and aimless as he continues, but you can feel his rhythm faltering. He's close, and you are too.
âCum for me, Daryl, please,â you beg, your voice trembling with desperation. âI want to feel it. Feel all of you.â
His teeth release your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses along your jaw as he groans in your ear. âYou want me to fill you up, huh, that it?â he rasps, his voice thick and gravelly.
âYes,â you moan, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer.
His lips curl into a wicked grin against your skin. âGood girl,â he murmurs before his teeth nip your earlobe, sending you spiraling into your second orgasm.
Your body clenches around him, milking him as his hips falter. With one final thrust, he stills, his arms locking around you as he spills inside, a guttural growl tearing from his throat.
Stars burst behind your eyes as the intensity of your climax leaves you trembling, your legs barely able to hold you up. Daryl keeps you pressed against him, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as the two of you come down together, the warehouse filled with the sound of your labored breathing.
He doesnât move for a long moment, his arms still wrapped around you as if anchoring himself. When he finally gets his bearings back, his grip loosens, though his arms still hold you close. His touch is gentler now, almost reverent.
"Goddamn," he breathes against your shoulder, his lips brushing over the marks his teeth left on your neck until he finally slips himself out of you to return himself to his jeans. "Youâre perfect. S'like you were made for me."
You hum in approval, a shaky laugh slipping past your lips.
"What?" he asks, his voice raspier than usual, tinged with exhaustion.
"Nothinâ," you say, tilting your face to look up at him. âJust think you mightâve ruined sex with anyone else for the rest of my existence.â
âThat's alright,â he chuckles, the sound low and rough. ââCause now yer all mine. Ainât nobody gonna touch you like thisâlike I do.â
âSo⊠this isnât the last time?â you ask, aiming for casual but failing miserably, your voice betraying the anticipation and hope bubbling inside you.
"Only if you want it to be," he whispers, his eyes searching yours.
You shake your head quickly, your breath hitching as his words sink in. âI donât,â you admit softly, your voice carrying an edge of vulnerability you hadnât expected.
A small, crooked smile tugs at his lips, and his hand comes up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. âGood,â he murmurs, his thumb trailing gently along your cheekbone.
Though he doesn't say much, his words send a shiver down your spine, his tone low and heavy with promise. You lean into his touch, letting your eyes flutter closed for a moment as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
âCâmon,â he says after a beat, his voice still gruff but tinged with something warmer now. âLetâs get you cleaned up.â
notes: daryl has 0 game, 0 experience, and is eager to please. I thought about this as I was falling asleep last night and couldn't wait to write it for you. Inspired by Norman saying if Daryl ever got down and dirty there would be premature ejaculation
She/her pronouns, foreplay only, gets straight to it
The invitation had been innocent enough, though Daryl had found a way to make it a minefield in his head. Dinner at her house. Nothing fancy, sheâd said. Just them, some canned spaghetti, and maybe a drink.
Heâd almost said no, but the way sheâd looked at himâsmiling soft and easy, like she wanted him there more than anyone elseâmade him mutter, âYeah, alright.â
Now, heâs sitting on her couch, shoulders stiff, his crossbow propped awkwardly by the door. She hums in the kitchen, clinking dishes together. He wonders if itâs too late to leave.
âDonât sit too quiet in there,â she calls, teasing. âYouâll scare the furniture.â
Daryl huffs a laugh through his nose. âFurniture donât need me to make it nervous.â
She steps into the room, carrying two mismatched bowls. âYou kidding? Youâre terrifying. Real menace, Dixon.â She hands him a bowl, sitting close enough for her thigh to press against his.
Daryl shifts, his grip tightening on the bowl. âSânot what people usually say.â
She gives him a sidelong glance, lips quirking. âWhat do they say?â
He doesnât answer, staring into the spaghetti like itâs gonna save him. She leans in, the bare skin of her arm brushing his, and he forgets how to breathe.
âYouâre not used to this, huh?â Her tone is light, but her eyes are searching.
He shrugs. âDunno what âthisâ is.â
âSomeone flirting with you,â she says, blunt as ever, setting her bowl aside. âHowâs that feel, by the way?â
He almost chokes. âAinât what youâre doinâ.â
âItâs exactly what Iâm doing.â
His ears burn, and he fights the urge to stand up and bolt. âY/Nââ
She cuts him off, leaning closer, her voice dropping to something softer. âIf I haven't made it abundantly clear lately: I like you. A lot.â
The words hit him harder than any walker ever could. He swallows, glancing at her, then quickly away. âAinât right.â
âWhy not?â
âIâm⊠too old.â He shifts again, looking anywhere but her face. âYou could do better.â
Her laugh is quiet, almost disbelieving. âYou really think that?â
He nods, his jaw tightening. âDonât got think âbout it. Itâs true.â
She tilts her head, watching him for a long moment. Then, setting her hand lightly on his knee, she asks, âWhenâs the last time someone told you youâre wrong?â
He tenses under her touch but doesnât pull away. âNot wrongââ
âDaryl,â she interrupts gently. âYouâve got this whole big, twisted idea in your head about what you deserve. And itâs bullshit.â
He stiffens. âAinâtââ
âBullshit,â she says again, firmer this time. âAnd Iâm gonna prove it.â
She stands, setting her bowl aside, then his, and turns to face him. Her hands are on her hips, her gaze steady as she looks down at him. âCan I ask you something personal?â
He frowns but nods hesitantly.
âHave you ever⊠been with someone?â
His face flushes crimson, and he drops his gaze to the floor.
âThatâs a no, then.â Her voice is warm, not teasing, but it makes him flinch anyway.
âDonât mean nothinâ,â he mumbles, fidgeting where he sits.
âIt means everything,â she counters, stepping closer. âBecause if no oneâs shown you what it feels like to be wanted, howâre you supposed to know?â
His heart hammers against his ribs as she moves between his knees, crouching down and resting her hands lightly on his shins. He stares at her like a deer caught in headlights. âWhatâre you doinâ?â
She smiles, tilting her head. âOnly what you want me to. But you have to tell me if you do.â
He swallows hard, his hands gripping the edge of the couch. âI...I dunno.â
âItâs okay to want, Daryl,â she murmurs, moving her legs up and onto his lap with a slow, deliberate movement so she's straddling him, her hands now resting delicately on his shoulders.
His breath catches, and he freezes, his hands hovering uselessly in the air, "Okay," he breathes.
Her voice drops lower, softer. âYou donât even know where to put your hands, do you?â
âIâ I canâtââ
She gently lifts his wrists, guiding his hands to the curve of her hips. âStart here.â
He stares at her, wide-eyed, his fingers twitching against her waist. âYou sure âbout this?â
âIâve never been more sure.â She says, her hand coming up to cup his jaw, the touch sending electricity into his skin, âIâll show you what youâve been missing. Only if you want me to.â
His grip tightens slightly, a shuddering breath escaping him. âYeah. I want it. I want you.â
Daryl barely has time to process anything before she tilts his chin up, forcing his gaze to meet hers. Her hands are steady, her expression soft but laced with something deeper-desire, maybe? His throat goes dry.
"First things first," she murmurs, brushing her thumb along the line of his jaw. "You ever kissed anyone before?"
He shakes his head, his breathing becoming irregular.
Her smile softens as it spreads across her face, endearing and non judgmental. She leans in, her breath warm against his lips. "Then let me teach you."
Her mouth brushes his softly, testing, like she's giving him the chance to pull away. He doesn't. Instead, his hands tighten on her hips as she deepens the kiss, her lips moving against his in a way that makes his head spin.
"Relax," she whispers against his mouth, pulling back just enough to guide him. He exhales shakily, his shoulders dropping slightly. When she kisses him again, he leans into it this time, his lips parting hesitantly.
She hums in approval, her hands threading into his hair, tugging gently to encourage him. He nearly lets out an inhuman noise at the feeling of her fingers curling in his hair, but he swallows it down, instead focusing on her soft lips on his.
"That's it," she breathes, her voice low and sultry. "Just follow me."
Her tongue traces the seam of his lips, and he jerks slightly, his breath hitching. She pulls back, laughing softly. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he rasps, his face burning. "Just... wasn't expectin' that."
"Well, get used to it," she teases, leaning in again. This time, when her tongue slides tentatively into his mouth, he meets her halfway, mimicking her movements as best as he can. It's clumsy, but she doesn't seem to mind, her soft moans sending heat straight through him. It suddenly occurs to him that she might be enjoying this just as much as hime.
As the kiss deepens, her hips begin to move, rolling slowly against his lap. Daryl tenses, his fingers twitching against her sides as she grinds against him, finally drawing a low, shaky groan from his throat.
Her lips brushing against his stubble and eventually against the shell of his ear where she whispers, "You like that?"
"Yeah. Feels-feels good." he nods, swallowing hard.
She smiles, pressing a kiss to his jaw before pulling back just enough to grab the hem of her shirt. Slowly, she lifts it over her head, tossing it aside to reveal bare skin and soft curves that leave him staring, wide-eyed and trozen.
"You're beautiful," he mutters before he can stop himself, the words tumbling out unfiltered.
Her smile softens, and she cups his face in her hands, searching his eyes. "Could say the same about you. Touch me, Daryl."
His hands flex nervously on her hips, now pressing into bare skin that feels hot to the touch. "Don't wanna mess it up."
"You won't." She reaches for his hands again, guiding them upward until his calloused fingers brush the swell of her breasts. He sucks in a sharp breath, his touch featherlight and hesitant.
"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice rough with uncertainty.
"It's perfect," she murmurs, arching into his touch. "Here, let me show you."
She places her hands over his, guiding his fingers to knead and explore, her soft sighs of pleasure encouraging him. He grows bolder with each movement, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, drawing a gasp from her lips.
"Like that," she breathes, her hips grinding down harder against him. "You're doing so good, Daryl."
Her praise sends a jolt of heat through him, and he pulls her closer, burying his face against her neck as his confidence grows.
"Never done nothin' like this before," he admits, his voice muffled, his lips tracing the column of her neck and moving down to her shoulders, onto her clavicle and chest.
"You're a fast learner," she says breathlessly, tugging his hair gently to make him look at her. Her lips find his again, hungrier this time, and he responds with a desperation that surprises even him.
His hands continue their kneading of her breasts, traveling around her to hug her tight against him, the swell of them pressing into his clothed chest, his hips beginning to move instinctively beneath her. The thought occurs to him that he hates clothes.
She gasps against his mouth, breaking the kiss to press her forehead to his.
"You're incredible," she whispers, her voice breathy. "I've wanted this for so long."
Daryl swallows hard, his chest heaving.
"Don't know what you see in me, but... I don't wanna stop."
"Then don't," she murmurs, kissing him again. "I'll take care of you. Just let me."
With newfound confidenceâor maybe just desperationâDaryl leans forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her chest. He works his way down, his kisses slow and clumsy, but she doesnât seem to mind. Her breath hitches when his mouth brushes between the swells of her breasts, and when he kisses the top, then the underside, he swears she arches into him on purpose, trying to drive him out of his damn mind.
Then, tentatively, he takes her nipple into his mouth. The sound she makesâlow and raggedâhas his cock straining so hard against his jeans he thinks he might lose it right there. Her hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging lightly as his tongue flicks out, testing, tasting her. She gasps, and that sound drives a hunger in him heâs never felt before.
His hips shift beneath her as she continues grinding against him, her movements deliberate and unrelenting. The friction is almost too much, the ache in his lap unbearable. He grips her hips hard, trying to slow her down. âYouâre gonna drive me crazy,â he mutters, his voice rough, lips brushing against her neck.
She exhales a shaky laugh, a smile teasing her lips. âThatâs kinda the point.â
Before he can respond, she leans back slightly, her hands moving to the waistband of her jeans. âHere,â she says, popping the button open with practiced ease. His breath catches as she begins to slide the zipper down, revealing the curve of her hip.
His mind races. Heâs never had a woman like this beforeâso wanting for him, so sure of herself. His chest tightens at the thought of messing this up, of not being enough for her. But at the same time, his heart pounds with anticipation. God, heâs thought about her like this more times than he can admit. What her skin would feel like. What her lips would taste like. And now, itâs happening, and he feels so far out of his depth he doesnât know where to begin.
She must notice his wide eyed stare, because her other hand tilts his chin up then, catching his gaze, "Only if you want to," she says again.
His throat is suddenly very dry, and all he can do is nod.
She smiles, and his chest tightens. She guides his hand beneath the waistband of her jeans, the soft skin of her pubic bone brushing his fingers first. The light tuft of hair there is the only thing rougher than her skin, and when his fingers graze lower, they slide easily over the slick heat of her center.
A growl rumbles in his chest, unbidden, as he realizes how wet she is. For him. His head spins, his blood roaring in his ears. When his fingers dip lower, pressing into her, her walls clench around them greedily. She moansâloud, uninhibitedâand the sound nearly undoes him.
"Yes, Daryl, that's it," she breathes. "Curl them, baby."
He does as she says, his fingers pressing into her, finding that soft, spongy spot that makes her cry out and buck against him. His palm brushes against the swollen nub at the apex of her sex, and the way she moves against him, grinding against his hand, has him gripping her hip with his free hand to ground himself.
âGoddamn,â he mutters, his voice raw as he watches her, awestruck.
Sheâs beautifulâblissed out and needy, her body moving with his like theyâve done this a hundred times before. He canât take it anymore. His free hand comes up, fingers curling lightly around the back of her neck as he pulls her down to kiss him. The kiss is desperate, hungry, and the little sounds she makes against his lips make his body tighten unbearably.
âDonât stop,â she gasps against his mouth, her voice trembling. âIâm so close.â
Her words send a jolt through him, and he groans low in his throat, the tension in his core mounting to an unbearable peak as he groans against her lips, gasping for breath as his high flushes through him. Before he can stop it, his release hits him hard and stars break against his vision. Her whimpers rise to full on ragged moans as she presses into his hand then one last time, his fingers knuckle deep inside her as they press against her spongey walls as she tightens around them, sucking his digits further into her as the climax breaks over her.
His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, her kisses trailing down his jaw and neck as her hips slow, her ragged breaths giving way to soft, contented sighs.
When she pulls back, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hooded with lust, she looks down at him and smiles. âDid you justâŠ?â she asks, her gaze dropping to his lap.
His face burns as he remembers himself, the wetness in his pants prominent as they both look down. Slowly, he pulls his hand from her, the loss of contact making her frown slightly. He bows his head, shame tightening his chest as he presses his hands into his lap.
âThat is so hot,â she murmurs, her voice rich and warm, not even a hint of laughter behind it.
Darylâs head jerks up, his breath catching in his throat. âHot?â he rasps, his voice cracking slightly.
She nods, her smile soft and utterly disarming as her fingers trail along his jaw. âYeah. Youâre so worked up just from me, Daryl. Thatâs the sexiest thing Iâve ever seen.â
Her words make his head spin. Sheâs seriousâdead seriousâand it hits him like a freight train. She isnât mocking him, isnât annoyed or disappointed. She likes him. Wants him. And not just in some passing way.
âYou really mean that?â he mumbles, his hands twitching where they return to rest awkwardly against her hips.
Her brow furrows slightly, her expression turning tender. âOf course I mean it. You have no idea how crazy you drive me, do you?â
He stares at her, stunned silent, his heart hammering in his chest. He doesnât understand itâcanât wrap his head around why someone like her would want someone like himâbut the look in her eyes leaves no room for doubt.
Her lips brush against his, slow and teasing. âWanna go again?â she whispers, her voice like honey. âIâve got a few more things I can teach you.â
His heart stutters, and he swears the heat in her gaze alone could undo him all over again. Sheâs not just enjoying herselfâsheâs reveling in it, like sheâs been waiting for this moment as long as he has.
âYeah,â he says, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and hoarse. He swallows hard, his body stirring again despite the lingering haze of his release. âYeah, okay.â
Her smile widens, and itâs nothing short of radiant. She leans in, her mouth covering his in a kiss that feels deeper this time, more confident. He lets himself relax, his hands finding her waist, and for the first time, he lets himself believe this is realâthat sheâs here, wanting him, and not judging him for a second.
Her hips roll against him again, slow and deliberate, and his fingers tighten instinctively on her waist. When she breaks the kiss, her lips curve into a smirk, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. âGood. âCause weâre just getting started.â
This is so random but does anyone know the old fanfic where it's dean Winchester x reader, the reader has a pain kink and dean needs to stitch her up and girl starts MOANING and deans like "the fuck? That's freaky goddamn" And they have sex. Please does anyone know what I'm talking about