╭⊰ crush
daryl dixon/reader
you aren’t a big part of the group, but you always try to help out, especially if it meant daryl would notice you. constantly crossing the line all for the sake of trying to swoon daryl, trying to take care of him too often, offering to help him on runs, even start keeping track of the places he goes to… he doesn’t take too kindly to strangers minding his business, and tries to shut you down. but after much consideration, maybe daryl could play along.
warnings: lowkey dub con but not at all, asshole daryl, hinted stalking, obsession, fangirl reader, a hint of dacryphilia, blowjobs in the woods, she’s dumb and ditzy but is that on purpose? you’ll never know. maybe other tags idk lmk
since being picked up by rick and his group, you never wanted them to once doubt your loyalty. the lucky chance to see human life after aimlessly running through the thick, neverending forests of georgia, the day that marked your official survival. if it wasn’t for the people here, at this little camp, you’d be good as dead.
despite all your tireless efforts, they often saw you as next to useless. not good with weapons, not very brave, not quite tactial enough to keep up with others. you could sure as hell get the blood out their clothes and be a damn good listener. good advice, though?
“what about you y/n, what’s your input on all this?” the group was having a heated debate about what to do with the kid they had chained up in a shed. everyone shouting at each other made you nervous, but you had no clue what was really going on. you just enjoyed helping the greene family in the house and keeping clean.
“umm,” you swallowed the knot in your throat, tilting your head to the sides as you thought about your answer. “well, i’d say,” you bunched your shoulders up to a shrug, already unsure. “if he turns out to be good, he should stay. if he’s a bad guy, we should let him go.”
the room was finally silent for a good while. a lot of blank stares, disappointed or confused looks, and sheer embarrassment rising to your warming face. you could’ve passed out.
“what she means- what she’s trying to say- we can’t make judgments right now!” dale tried to help you out, and you nodded excitedly, relieved he was going to save you.
“hey, don’t use her to push your narrative man.” shane would shake his head with his arms crossed, and you mirrored him, suddenly not taking kindly to dale trying to twist your words around. everyone erupted into new conversation, and you slowly shrunk down, unnoticed once more.
one person you couldn’t seem to properly thank for their charity work was daryl dixon. brooding, quiet, your savior. an older, fine piece of man that you can’t shake the memory of being wrapped up in his big arms to shield you from a falling structure of a building. the way he cooly stepped away from you, shaking off the debris and drywall like a dog drying off from a bath. the way he took it and came out with no scratches.
so god forbid a girl gets a little crush, does a little staring from across the glowing fire, tries to slip into his routine unnoticed. you thought you’d start with something easy: helping out on a run!
“nah.” daryl didn’t even spare you a glance when you showed up in front of him suited up in a stocked up bag, a refilled water bottle, and some of his arrows you gathered from the trees he practiced shooting on. he wordlessly snatched the water and arrows from your hands, not even saying thank you, just a neanderthal-esque grunt.
you quickly tailed him as he already began to make his way out. “but i know the layout of the shops you’re going to! there’s a basement area too, where they used to keep extra shipments.”
“already said no,” daryl looked around a small workbench for something, picking up the tarp and kissing his teeth when he came up empty handed. he looked at you, peering over your shoulder.
“the areas already clear, just gotta go clean up missed spots. where’s that basement you were on about?” he spun you around, hands briefly squeezing your shoulders, sending goosebumps down your neck.
“well- by the- uh, main building,”
“uh-huh.” he carefully slid off the straps of your backpack, you let your arms fall through the loops. he loosened the straps, slinging it across his broad shoulder.
“and like, in the back, by this employee only door, this red door on the left. it has a circle doorknob…i think…” you could’ve been absently drooling at what he was- unknowingly- doing to you. he was basically undressing you. did he know what this was doing to your starved body?
“alright, there you go,” he spun you back around to face him once more, patting your shoulders. he had everything he needed now, courtesy of you. “you want to help me out?”
“yes!” your eyes lit up, you would’ve saluted if he asked.
“leave my plate of whatever they cook up tonight right on the table here when i get back.” he pointed to the workbench he just rummaged around. your face fell, and he was already making his way to his motorcycle. your backpack bouncing on his back as he strolled off, your water tied to it, the weapon you freshly reloaded. the nerve…!
you covered the tray with a cloth to protect whatever animal and heated up canned goods was grilled up for the night, placing it right in the middle of the wooden table. it was already getting dark, and daryl still wasn’t back. you dragged your feet, head down, all the way back to the campsite, maggie waving you over to sit with her and her family.
“you okay, y/n? something happen?” maggie noticed the pout on your lips immediately.
“just wonderin’ if daryl will be back soon, he took my pack and-”
some rowdy laughter from inside interrupted you, leaning back to try and peer in through- there he was, chatting it up with rick and carol casually.
the next time daryl went out, you were smart enough to not lend over your supplies so naively. you were going to follow him around, on your own, be so sneaky and undetected. if he ended up in trouble, you’d be there to save his day. that was your genius plan and if god was real and loved you he’d let this work.
daryl was a hound, so you kept a big distance. any small snap of a twig or rustle of leaves made you cringe, half expecting every careful step you took, he would just shoot an arrow in your direction. from a mile away you still watched him- his ease of taking down walkers, his perfect aim, the way he could tell exactly where the animal he was hunting down turned and breathed and would do next.
he cleared over a small hill, you nervously picked up your pace and rushed over the arc, heart dropping when you couldn’t see him anymore. did he keep going straight, cut off into the trees? without daryl, right now you were… lost.
you tried to channel your inner dixon, squinting at the muddy ground. everything looked like dirt. the leaves didn’t look misplaced, the air was still, everything was quiet.
a hand was over your mouth, preventing the scream from piercing your attackers ears and echoing across the forest. it was just daryl, just daryl, daryl… your racing heart slowed down to a gentle beat, eyes softening at the sight of him. you didn’t care that he was mad, didn’t care for his quick apology for coming onto you ‘like that’, didn’t care for him trying to push you away.
“go home.”
“well i’m already this far, why don’t you let me help you?” you sighed in defeat, and daryl crossed his arms.
“don’t need it,” he looked you up and down. “you ain’t got a gun, ain’t got a head on your shoulders, and you’re not wearing clothes.”
you couldn’t help the skip in your chest hearing him mention you and no clothes. oh, so he thought this was revealing? did he think it was… cute, sexy, hot??!!
“it’s humid, what’s wrong with shorts?” you swayed around, biting back a smile. daryl’s mouth parted for a second, then his face twisted up and he just shook his head. he waved you off, uninterested.
you grabbed him by his elbow, pulling gently.
“wait!”
“what do you not get-”
“is there any… other ways i can help you?” you tugged his arm a little more, a little lower, a little closer to the space between your legs. he nearly laughed, you could’ve sworn, that small tug of the corner of his lip, the tense of his forearm.
just as quick as he had surprised you earlier, he pulled his arm away and his hand was on the back of your neck. you hung your head in shame as he pushed you the way you came, embarrassment flushing your entire face. god hated you.
“imma get you home, and you can think about what you’re doin’, all by yourself, you heard?”
you hummed sadly, defeated.
“whaddya’ even thinkin woman. followin me out here, just to what, huh? what was your big plan here?”
“ok, im sorry daryl, i just…” you were stuck in your head thinking of a good response- should you be honest? let it go? tell a little lie?
“cmon, use that little head of yours an’ tell me.” you shivered.
“i’m… you’re… hey, where are we going-”
“don’t you worry about all that. go head and tell me what kinda help you woulda gave me.”
your head and heart and stomach spun. he trailed off the side of the path, his grip on you barely budging. your hand raised to feel him, fingers brushing against his arm, holding his wrist gently.
“i just… wanted to show my gratitude. in a way you’d actually like. is that so wrong?”
“hmm… nah. just think we got two different kinds of gratitude.”
“i think we’re more similar than you think, daryl.”
he held you still, his hand slowly releasing its firm hold, ghosting across the nape of your neck and down your spine. your lip trembled in excitement, holding your hands together and squeezing your fingers. your time to shine was here, but you were worried at how soon it came. now you were on the spot and feeling something akin to shame.
“don’t think a pretty thing like you goes too well with someone like me,” he took some strands of your hair between his fingers, gently feeling it.
“i-i think the opposite… i think, you deserve it, daryl.”
“you got this all twisted in your head, girl. im not-”
“i know, daryl,” you held your hands to your heart. “i know im not your ideal, but you’re ideal to me, and i wouldn’t care how you want it, just that you want me-”
he got real close, leaned down to your ear, brushed your hair out the way so you could hear his low grumble: “you just wanna be my bitch, don’t ya?”
you grabbed him by the back of his head, fingers curling around his hair, so so desperately pressing your lips to his as you turned your head to meet him. he was salty with sweat, tobacco hitting your tongue, made your head dizzy in more ways than you could handle.
he mouth engulfed yours, along with some teeth, but you didn’t care. not one bit- daryl dixon could bite you till you bled and you’d thank him. his hands hurriedly went to unbuckle his belt, tugging off his pants to mid-thigh.
“god girl, haven’t gotten like this, this fast, in…” he pushed you away, hands on your shoulders with his big fingers spidering on your throat. his thumbs rubbed your exposed collarbone, wondered if that was also considered revealing to him.
“is that cause’ your old or cause’ you like me so much!?” you cheesed, but his expression didn’t look so pleased. he pushed you down, bare knees hitting the muddy ground, faltering smile.
“tha’ supposed to be funny?” the pure heat of his dick warmed your cheeks, unconsciously leaning into it. you shook your head, pulling his pants down more, eyes wide when he sprung out the confines of the zipper.
daryl groaned, clutching your hair tight. he helped you close the gap, pushing your face against the tuft of a happy trail on his firm stomach. you’d seen it before when he stretched too far, or when he changed clothes by a tree after getting too dirty, or when he was washing himself where he thought no one was watching.
“sooo… you must really like me then.” you glanced up at him, mouthing at the tip, leaking through his old boxers.
“don’t fuckin’ like you, jus’ offered. and im takin’.” he spat, impatiently holding your head still and freeing his dick and letting it slap across your lips. your stomach dropped, but the drool pooling out didn’t.
daryl groaned as he inched himself past your pout and down your tongue, bucking his hips in the same spot, fucking the little entrance of your throat. you frantically gripped his legs, trying your best to keep your eyes open and keep eye contact, just how guys like it-
“stop fuckin’ looking at me.”
your eyes squeezed shut and you whined, legs trembling as you kept yourself up. maybe even something nothing short of a sad tear slipped past your eyelid, rolled across your cheek and mixed in with the spit soaking your chin.
“yeah, keep cryin’ just like that.” he whispered, nudging your head a little further, thrusting a little faster.
you gagged as you took more of his cock in, shaky hands pulling him closer by his legs, letting a choked sob escape you when he pulled out. you let your jaw loll open, holding still. with a deep, guttural groan, daryl finished on your trembling tongue. he wiped the sweat from his beard, but you caught the coy smirk he made anyways.
“you gonna swallow or what?”
you frowned, even with an open mouth. stuck in place because you really didn’t want to. no one, especially daryl, had a very clean diet. back in the day you were a notorious spitter, on the rare chance you ever actually went down on a guy. yet you found yourself letting his (gross) cum slide down into your stomach, a revolted shudder followed down your back.
daryl chuckled, hands on his hips triumphantly.
“want yer’ turn too?”
“really?!” you weakly got up, knees aching and indented with small twigs.
“hell no,” he laughed again, zipping up his jeans and packing up. “i’d take a guess and say a girl like you deserves a real bed to lay in when…”
he holds his palm against the back of your neck again, gently leading you back on the trail home.
“when…?” you hummed, taking a quick chug of water to… cleanse your palate.
“when i finally fuck you,” daryl states, obviously. “y’know, cuz’ you want it so bad. maybe it’ll leave you bed-ridden, so you don’t make the stupid decision to follow me around again. did anyone see you go?”
you wiped your hands across your face, sticky with cum-saliva. your throat was already raw and used… you couldn’t imagine- actually, you could, and you have. in great detail on many nights alone in bed. you matched his sly little smirk, covering your blush with your fingers.
“that doesn’t matter… you better hope no one sees you crawling into my bed dixon, might think you’re up to no good…” he squeezed his hand in response, shaking his head in feign-disgust. you knew he wouldn’t be caught dead with you around the others, but daryl knew no one cared- just someone like you worked harder when there was a secret to maintain…