Prompt: The former savior Justin makes a fatal mistake by pushing his luck with you.
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: Violence, cursing, suggestive comments, misogyny, typical TWD gore
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The day started off like most others. You were on watch this morning, having gotten up barely a couple of hours after Daryl came to bed. Your shift began at dawn, relieving the night crew. You remembered that Daryl was supposed to go out to the bridge today to help with construction, and to keep an eye on everyone in Rick’s absence. He had to go down to the Sanctuary today, so Daryl was covering for him overseeing the bridge.
You hated when he went to the Sanctuary, given all the horror that happened to him there, so you were glad that Rick was going today. However, the bridge construction wasn't a whole lot better. He'd still be surrounded by numerous former saviors, something you found very unsettling. So you typically tagged along, for your own peace of mind, to watch his back.
You left an apple on the bedside table and wrote a quick note beside it telling Daryl that you were on watch and that you’d see him in the afternoon. You hated not being able to see him much anymore - especially waking up together - but you each had a lot of responsibilities to manage.
Standing in the dim light, you lean over the bed to brush the hair out of Daryl’s face. You keep meaning to give him a little hair cut, just so that he could see better, but whenever you were able to see him it would completely slip your mind - too concerned with soaking up as much time with him as possible.
Your fingers brushed against his stubbly cheek ever so lightly, appreciating how peaceful he looked sleeping. He stirs a little, so you quickly try to retract your hand before you accidentally wake him up, but it’s too late - he catches your hand and places it back on his cheek. “Mmm?” He groans, one eye peeking open as his other hand comes up to snatch your free wrist, placing a tired openmouthed kiss on it.
“Sorry,” you whisper with a soft smile, rubbing your thumb over the back of his warm, rough hand.
“Where’re ya goin’?” Daryl questions, his deep voice so raspy that anyone else may have a hard time understanding what he said. You loved his sleepy voice, you found it adorable, sexy.
“I have first watch. Relieving the night shift," you remind him, leaning down so that you are squatting beside him at the bed. He rolls over onto his side, his hand still enveloping yours, and opens his other eye to get a good look at you.
“M’kay,” he mumbles. “Be careful,” Daryl says, his piercing blue eyes meeting your own. A shy smile crawls up your face and you nod in the darkness, moving closer and placing a kiss on his stubble covered cheek.
“I’ll see you at the bridge, hun,” you promise, moving to stand up, but he doesn’t release your hand, keeping you down at his level. He sleepily lifts his head and brings his other hand up to the back of your head. You instinctively meet him halfway, capturing his soft lips in a slow kiss.
His body heat radiates onto you, warming you up in a way only Daryl can. You pull away slowly, a frustrated whimper escaping your mouth as you lean your forehead on his. You miss him so much, you want to lay here beside him forever - but the sunlight beginning to creep through the window reminds you that duty calls.
You loved how Daryl would let his guard down and be more open when he was tired like this. He could be very affectionate in the mornings and nights, which was one of the only times that you go to see him anymore. You stand up from your spot and head out of the room, but not without one last glance at the love of your life.
~
Daryl’s morning was not off to a great start. He was exhausted from the night before, grumpy because he didn’t get to spend any time with you, and it was a cloudy and cold day. Everyone was getting on his nerves and he was practically counting down the minutes until he would be able to go back to Alexandria.
You hadn't arrived yet, and he was antsy about you being on the road without him. He knew you were with Carol and some of the others, coming to relieve some of the people working on the bridge, but he hated being apart from you inside of the walls, let alone outside of their safety.
One person in particular was seriously testing Daryl’s patience today - a savior, Justin. He had been giving everyone attitude from the moment they began working, and Daryl has just about had it.
Daryl was in the process of nailing down a board as Aaron talked to him about Gracie, just as he spotted you. He felt a weight literally lift off of his shoulders as you appeared in his vision. You hadn't spotted him yet, and he momentarily got distracted just watching you.
"-And the diaper just explodes, all over me." Aaron finishes his story.
"Good times," Daryl responds, taking a nail out of his mouth and getting back to hammering.
"You'll see," Aaron remarks.
Daryl shoots him a weird look, before glancing back to where you stood a handful of yards away, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and helping to lift a large board. You were wearing black khakis and a dark tank top, looking absolutely amazing in such a simple outfit. The thought of having a baby with you briefly crossed Daryl's mind, but he shut down the idea almost as quickly as it popped into his head.
"What? You'd be a great dad. Especially with Y/N..." Aaron trails off, teasing the archer.
"Yeah," he retorts sarcastically, dipping his head behind his hair and returning to hammering so that Aaron couldn't see the heat rising to his cheeks.
Aaron dropped it and they got back to focusing, which lasted all of a couple minutes until Daryl heard something stand out to him. Your name. In Justin’s mouth.
Daryl knew that Justin had tried hitting on you once before when you came to the bridge to help out, and he had given him a stern warning to stay away from you. Normally Daryl would have trusted you to handle the guy yourself, but seeing as he was a savior, and he was being very pushy toward you, Daryl had stepped in.
He stands up from where he was crouched, brushing the dirt off of his gloves and wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, listening in on the conversation Justin was having with some other savior.
“She’s a hot piece of ass. The things I’d do to her if that redneck asshole would let her out of his sight, I swear.” Justin remarks as he hammers at a nail unsuccessfully. The man beside him just scoffs.
“She’d never go for you, man," he responds.
“Sure she would. Just gotta get her alone.” Justin continues, a gross smirk on his face.
By this point, Aaron had taken notice and knew that shit was about to go down. The look on Daryl’s face was enough to warn the younger man that he needed to intervene, now.
"Hey! Back t' work! Stop chattin so damn much!" he growls as he shoves his way past Justin, abandoning Aaron to approach you.
You heard Daryl shout and immediately got distracted, almost wacking someone in the head with the board you were helping to carry. As soon as you and Rosita place it down, you search for Daryl, only to find him heading right over to you.
"Hey, you okay?" you ask, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand.
"Yeah, that prick over there pissin me off again," he grumbles, wiping some dirt off of your shirt for you. You smile softly, appreciating the gesture.
"Don't let him bother you, babe," you start. "Your only giving him the attention he wants."
Daryl grumbles in response. "Hi Y/N, hi Daryl," Henry greets you guys as he approaches with the large jug of water. "Need a drink?" he asks. Daryl motions to you and you open your mouth to fight him, but he shoots you a look, so you accept and take a very small cup of water from the boy.
"Thank you, Henry." You hand the cup to Daryl and give him the same look. He knows better than to argue with you and he was very thirsty anyway, so he pours himself a small cup too.
Henry then moves on and you let Daryl head off to grab another large plank with Gabriel. All is well for approximately three minutes, until...
You hear commotion and turn around to see that Justin has shoved Henry onto the ground and is now downing a bunch of water straight from the jug directly into his mouth. You immediately abandon your work and make your way toward Henry, but before you can get to the prick to handle business yourself, Henry has stood back up and knocks him clean off his feet with his staff.
You finally reached the two and just as the asshole is scrambling back onto his feet and some other former saviors are laughing at him, you place yourself between the man and the child.
"You better fucking not," you warn as he looks over your shoulder toward the boy who was hurrying to gather the water jug and get back to work.
"You see that shit?" Justin shouts, shuffling his body like he wants to go after Henry.
"Yeah I saw you bullying a child and him stand up for himself, just like he should," you retort.
Justin's eyes squint at you in shock and disbelief.
"Whatever! I let him do that. Better not get a big damn ego now!" he shouts dramatically.
"Yeah okay why don't ya get back to work," you roll your eyes and turn to walk away.
"Hey, hold up now. I finally gotcha away from the redneck," he grabs your shoulder and positions himself in your way.
"'scuse me?" you all but growl.
"Oh come on now, you know how long it's been since I seen a pretty face like yours?" he attempts to flirt with a gross smirk. "Take it as a compliment, sweetheart. Like you don't walk around in those tight little pants hoping every guy here is looking at you," he continues, and you move to walk away from him, but he follows you.
"I mean why else would you be here anyway? Not like a woman can be much help buildin a bridge," he blabbers on. You spot Daryl and instantly start walking toward him. The dumbass hasn't spotted Daryl and continues trailing you. "Hey, hold up! You think you're too good for me bitch?!" he grabs onto your shoulder, and before he has the chance to do anything else, Daryl literally tackles him to the ground like a football player, knocking the wind out of him and banging his skull against the ground.
Daryl gets two good swings in before you grab his shoulder to pull him off. He resists until you call out his name, wrapping your hand tightly around his raised fist. "Daryl!" you shout again, and he finally takes pause. Justin lies limp on the ground underneath Daryl. He grabs him harshly by the collar before saying: "Ya come near her again.. I'll beat yer ass into the ground," Daryl growls viciously before slamming him down as Rick shows up and gets an arm around him before he is able to decides to continue beating the prick to death.
He tries to scramble up as fast as he can as Rick and Aaron struggle to keep between him and Daryl. "Hey! Ya hear that shit! Huh?" Justin shouts and points over Rick's shoulder, trying to rile Daryl up some more.
"Enough!" Rick shouts, but Daryl doesn't stop pacing and stalking back and forth as he glares. Justin stupidly starts talking smack again.
"Unbelievable! Tried to kill me over nothin!" Justin tries to get people on his side. "Fuckin redneck asshole!" he shouts around Rick's shoulder. Before he can get any other insults out at Daryl, you reach up and punch him in the nose. Your hand immediately aches and you grab it instinctually, cursing out in pain. In your distraction, Justin grabs a hold of your shirt and suddenly you are in the middle of no less than four grown men pulling at you. Justin holds onto your shirt for dear life, as if keeping a grip on you will somehow prevent him from getting his ass kicked anymore.
Daryl is literally jumping over Rick to get to you as Rick tries to peel Justin off of you while keeping himself positioned between the two men, and Aaron tries to help hold Daryl back. By now a huge crowd has formed and everyone is egging each other on. "Enough!" Rick shouts again as he finally releases you from Justin's grip. "I said enough!" He hollers viciously as Daryl continues shoving his way through the men.
"Daryl!" you shout, finally halting him. He takes pause and notices your stretched out shirt hanging down low on your chest. He grabs your wrist, glancing at your knuckles and then peels his vest off of his back and swiftly pulls it over your shoulders, buttoning it in the front for you to cover you up a little better.
"Everyone get back to work! Now!" Rick hollers, guiding you and Daryl away from the crowd. "What the hell was that?!" he growls under his breath once you guys are far enough away.
"That asshole had it coming! This was neva gonna work Rick! Ya hear the shit he was sayin? He put his fuckin hands on 'er!" Daryl begins shouting again.
"Hey, hey!" Rick puts his hand up and you take Daryl's bicep. "You trying to kill the guy in front of everyone solves nothing, Daryl. You just stirred everything up!" He scolds.
"I'on care! He had it comin!" Daryl huffs.
"And you," Rick turns to you. "Not any better. Are you guys trying to make sure this doesn't work?" he scolds you guys like children.
"Hey," Daryl glares at Rick, pointing at him. "Leave 'er outta it. That prick should die for touchin 'er." Daryl warns Rick, who raises a brow at his friend. Rick puts his left hand up and his right on his hip, tilting his head and huffing.
"Daryl," he starts, trying to deescalate. "Alright, why don't you two go work on the logs, huh? Go cool off..." Rick sighs like a disappointed parent. Daryl wastes no time in grabbing your arm and quickly but gently leading you away to grab your stuff and head off to work on the logs.
Once you're out of earshot, outside of the cabin, Daryl stops and turns to face you. "Ya okay?" he asks, looking you up and down. You chuckle at his worry.
"I'm fine. Just stretched out my shirt," you respond, glancing down at your chest, which is covered by Daryl's vest.
"I'll getcha some new shirts. Go on a run tomorrow," Daryl mutters, grabbing your hand and inspecting your knuckles. "Shouldn't have hit him, don't want ya gettin' hurt," he continues, rubbing your knuckles with his calloused thumb.
"Asshole had it coming," you respond with a shrug. Daryl chuckles lightly and grins proudly.
"That's m' girl," he touches your chin. "Ya should head back for the day."
"Hell no. I just got here. I'm not leaving 'cuz of him," you state firmly. Daryl looks at you for a long moment, nibbling on his bottom lip before nodding in agreement.
"A'right, but stay with me," he starts leading the way toward the area of the woods where they are taking down trees for the bridge.
~
The rest of the day is pretty uneventful. You and Daryl spent a few hours helping with the logs, loading them up onto the trucks and whatnot. By the time the sun had gone down, your whole body was on fire. You'd definitely be feeling it in the morning.
You hadn't seen Justin since the incident in the afternoon, and you kept near Daryl for the most part, like he asked. The two of you were heading back through the woods, past the cabin and campsite, right when he happened to come out. Rick and Carol were right there talking to one another, and Rick made stern eye contact with Daryl from where he stood a few yards away. Daryl stood on your left as you continued to walk, his body shielding you from Justin.
The two men made intense eye contact as they passed one another, but neither spoke. Just when you thought you were in the clear... You hear: "Better keep your dog on a tighter leash!" Both you and Daryl whip around and spot Justin shouting at Rick as he is slowly walking away. "Damn near killed me for nothin," he continues stupidly.
You grab onto Daryl's bicep and Rick is instantly approaching Justin, his glare on Daryl, anticipating another fight - which seems to be exactly what the savior wants.
"Daryl don't," you try to stop him but he shrugs out of your grasp and strides over.
"Daryl," Rick warns, and Justin puffs his chest, anticipating his attack. Instead, Daryl stops two yards away from where Rick was standing near Justin.
"Listen up. Real good." Daryl points a finger at Justin. "Ya come near her again. Touch her. Talk to her. Hell. Ya look at her sideways," Daryl continues in a calm but dangerous tone. "Stitches won't fix what I do t' ya." It's not a threat, it's a promise. You cautiously take Daryl's bicep again, tugging him lightly to get him to back off, and when neither Justin nor Rick say anything, Daryl allows you to guide him away.
"I love you," you mutter up at Daryl once you are plenty out of earshot, taking his hand and interlocking your fingers as he leads the way toward the awaiting horses and other members of Alexandria to head home for the night. He squeezes your hand and smiles softly in return, silently saying it back.
• he walks the dead world bound by the ghost he can't save.
The world ended, but daryl dixon didn't. you were the reason why. at least, that's what he tells himself on the good days. on the bad days he knows it's the other way around. the world ended, and it took you with it.
He still carries your crossbow, a sleek, black compound you'd been so damn proud of. his own red handled hunting bow feels heavier and more brutish, but it's what he's used to. yours is slung across his back untouched, a silent promise he can't bring himself to break. he tells the others it's for spare parts, a lie so thin it's practically transparent, but no one calls him on it. they see the way his thumb sometimes traces the carbon fiber limbs when he thinks no one is looking.
You haunt the quiet moments the most. when they're holed up in some decrepit house and the fire is crackling low, he'll swear he hears your laugh from the next room. a ghost of a sound that makes his breath catch in his throat. he'll find himself turning to share a joke with an empty space, the words dying on his lips as reality crashes back in. the smell of woodsmoke and stale beer will twist into the phantom scent of your shampoo. something fruity and cheap that you had splurged on during a run to a ransacked Target weeks before it all went to hell.
He talks to you. not out loud, never where anyone can hear him. it's a constant running monologue in his head, a conversation he's been having for years.
“See that darlin'? big one. took its head clean off. you'd've been impressed.”
“This place is shit. no good defensible positions. you'd've hated it.”
“Carol made a casserole. tasted like ass. you woulda laughed.”
Every walker he puts down is a message to you. a tally. a testament. he tracks them, a silent grim accounting. each one is a monster that can't get to you, a threat that can't hurt anyone else he might let himself care about. it's a penance for failing you, for not being fast enough, for not being strong enough on that day in the pharmacy when you got swarmed. he remembers the way you screamed his name, not in fear, but in warning, as you shoved him toward the back exit and bought him time with your life. he remembers the sickening, wet tear of teeth, the sight of your body going down under a tide of grasping hands and gaping mouths. he put them all down, every last one in that store, but it was too late. you were already gone.
Sometimes, in the deep dark of the night, he swears he can feel you. a cold spot on the bedroll next to him. the faintest pressure on his shoulder, a touch so light it could be the wind. he'll close his eyes and pretend, just for a second, that you're there, your head pillowed on his arm, your breathing soft and even. he'll imagine the weight of your crossbow is your arm slung around him. it's a fragile, pathetic comfort, and he hates himself for it, but he can't stop.
You are the ghost in his machine. the reason he flinches when someone gets too close. the reason he pushes away every kind hand, every offered piece of himself. to let someone in would be to betray you. it would be to admit that the space you occupy inside him isn't permanent, that it can be filled by someone else. and he can't. he won't.
You are his North Star in a world of rot and ruin. a constant, painful reminder of the man he was when he was with you, and the hollowed out thing he is now. he lives, he fights, he survives, all while walking hand in hand with a ghost. the story of daryl dixon is the story of a man who keeps walking, because stopping would mean leaving you behind for good. and that, he knows, is a fate far worse than any walker.
When you find a man stranded on a rooftop, your soft heart won't let you leave him behind—He's crass, unpredictable, and has a mouth that could make a sailor blush. Between his lecherous comments and the endless stream of petnames dripping from his lips like honey-coated poison, he makes your skin crawl. But beneath the rough exterior and inappropriate advances, you catch glimpses of something more.
The journey to find his "baby brother" and a chance at survival drives you both forward through geek-infested Georgia, and somewhere between dodging the dead, weathering his crude jokes, and learning to give as good as you get an unlikely bond begins to form. You see past his walls and wandering eyes, and he starts to see you as more than just another pretty face to ogle in an ugly world.
But Merle's never been good with feelings, and some things are too dangerous to say out loud—especially when he's got a mission on his mind. When tragedy strikes changing everything, it's Daryl who's left to help you pick up the shattered pieces, carrying out a promise he doesn't even know he made.
Serial Killer!Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Teeth and Pearl earrings
Warnings: serial killer daryl, rough smut, inconsiderate smut, NO noncon, stalking, stealing, mentions of killing
Summary: Daryl can't decide if he wants to kill you, or fuck you. Switches between Daryl's and Readers POV.
Notes: SO SORRY ITS LONG This was really fun but really challenging to write, I tried to keep him as in character as possible, but that's hard when making him a serial killer lol! I'm making this a two pt, with the reader finding out in the next part.
Some days Daryl thought his luck might run out. He'd been lucky for too long. As far as he knew, no one suspected a thing. Every time he'd go out “hunting”, no matter how long he was gone for, he'd always managed to bring back something. Deer, rabbits, squirrels when prey was scarce.
It was easier now that the world had ended to keep it a secret. No threat of cops catching on, no more cameras on every street corner, no need to try to erase every possible trace.
The only thing he found to prove difficult had been finding a place to keep his trophies. He didn't really have a preference, hair, a tooth, or a piece of clothing, it was something he didn't understand the meaning of but something he did each time. He kept it in his room in the vent above his bed, behind a few boxes of books. The week prior he took it down to put the wedding ring of a man who tried attacking Rick out on their supply run, he’d had to restrain himself and keep the stabbing to a minimum because of Rick's presence.
He found himself growing uncomfortably interested in you. A revelation that he really, really didn't like. You were off limits, you were one of Rick's closest friends, you'd been there way too long. And you clearly hadn't done anything deserving of the things he daydreamed about doing to you, unlike the victims he’d killed before.
The more he tried to push those thoughts away, the stronger they came back. His hands around your throat, the way your eyes would tear up as you struggled against him and the fact someone you trusted so much was the one ending your life.
His eyes followed you over the flames of the campfire as you took your plates and went inside. Aaron had hosted a little get together in his yard in Alexandria, cooking dinner for everyone in celebration of the newest addition to the town. Some nobody he found out there on their own, who jumped at the idea of joining a large group of people.
If Daryl had to kill you, he’d keep a lock of your hair.
He couldn't stop staring at it as you went inside. His mind flooded with flashes of pictures of it, his hand in it, stroking your soft locks before grabbing a fistful and putting a knife to your throat. The way you'd squeal and beg, squirm against him as he presses the edge firmer into your skin.
He bit the inside of his cheek and looked away after you disappeared in the house you shared with Maggie and a few others.
It was like you were practically begging him to follow you.
Five different times that week you'd gone out on your own to ‘clear your head’, whatever the hell that meant.
First time he heard Glenn mention to someone that you'd just gone out beyond the walls, he wanted to follow you. The idea was far too tempting. But he didn't, he knew damn well he couldn't trust himself with you all alone, no one to hear you scream.
The fantasies he had begun to form disgusted him. He didn't just go out and kill any random human he felt like, he had to have some sort of rules or else things would get out of hand real fast. If he were to get caught, it needed to be someone Rick wouldn't think twice about him killing. Some raider, or any kind of piece of shit who'd be a threat to their group. He needed to have a fallback, worst case scenario one of Alexandria caught him.
Second rule, none of his people. Ever. His morals were questionable, if he had it his way he'd go out and hunt down any human he came across outside those walls.
But never his people. In a hypocritical way he did care about them, in the same way that any normal sane human being would care about their family. He could never even dream about hurting any of them, he’d rather die. But they had to earn that place in his heart.
It was a wonder you hadn't been killed by anyone else yet. The way you walked through the woods with your light pink sweater, leaving tracks in the leaves that a blind man could follow, and that fucking humming. He could easily track you with his eyes closed for miles with the way you kept humming.
You'd gone into an old shack in the backyard of an abandoned trailer.
A part of him felt angry then, how were you so stupid? If it had been someone else following you, and not Daryl, who knows what they'd do to you? And you'd have no idea until it was too late.
He paused at the thought. If he wasn't careful, that's exactly what would happen.
He followed you home about half a mile behind the entire time. When you were at the road that led to the gates he turned back, deciding it was the perfect time to go hunting.
The crossbow on his back weighed heavier than it normally did as he slunk down into the underbrush at the forest's edge. He hadn't decided on what animal yet, but the frustration and confusion alone caused by you made it pretty easy to guess.
He wiped the blood from the molar before he tucked it in the box in his vent, and decided to pay Maggie and Glenn a visit.
The house was completely empty, so he let his curiosity get the better of him.
Your room was pretty.
Your bed, a whopping full size mattress, made his pull out look like a military cot. You had an array of paintings on your walls, he remembered some of them. As soon as you got your own room in Alexandria you went out on runs with Glenn and Maggie just so you could decorate it.
His eyes went from painting to painting, then to your dresser. You kept it unexpectedly neat for someone who behaved so sloppily in the woods. Your journal, a small glass box you kept your sentimental jewelry in, a few makeup products. What drew his attention was the jewelry box, he could see the pair of pearl earrings you used to constantly wear. You never took them out back then, not even to sleep.
Orange bled into a dark purple against his face and he blinked, coming back to himself in front of your bedroom window. A strange confusion twisted in his gut when he realized he'd just been standing there, staring out your window for so long the sun had set.
You weren't stupid, or blind.
You'd have to be a fool to not notice the way Daryl had been taking interest in you.
There'd been several times in Alexandria where you'd be busy doing something, turn around and see him standing off in the distance, staring at you like fuckin’ Michael Myers.
If you'd go on runs and he came with you, you'd often glance at him to see him already looking. He'd always look away, pull out a cigarette and act like he wasn't just burning holes in the back of your head.
You'd come to the obvious conclusion that he had a crush on you.
What else could it be? You'd always thought he was really hot, men like that were hard to come by. Quiet, observant, strong as hell, he’d do anything for the people he loved and he wasn't an annoying pervert who'd suddenly turn into an asshole if you rejected him. Not that you'd ever reject him.
Each time you caught him staring your heart would race and you'd try to give a friendly smile, but apparently he was too shy for that. Which sucked, because of all the men you could have the hots for, Daryl was the most unapproachable and intimidating.
“Hey, have you guys seen an earring laying around anywhere?” You asked at dinner, glancing around the table. Carol had invited the inner group over for dinner, she'd made pasta and cookies.
You could never get enough of Carol's cookies.
“What's it look like?” Maggie asked beside Glenn, the two of them looking at you thoughtfully from across the table.
“Just a pearl earring. The one's I always used to wear.” You took a sip of your sweet tea, looking at the other faces to see if any of them had a split second look of recognition.
“Not that I can remember.” Glenn cleared his throat and shook his head after swallowing a heavy mouthful of alfredo pasta.
“I'll keep an eye out for it.” Rick tipped his head to you, nodding slightly before continuing eating. You smiled in return, knowing if anyone was likely to find it, it’d be him.
He'd grown very fond of you recently, the image of you had shifted in his head from another person he was responsible for, to a dear friend he could trust with his life. Mostly due to the way you were with Carl, always doing your best to be a figure of comfort to him. Not as close as he'd grown to Michonne, but more of a young aunt who takes too much interest in art and jewelry.
“I haven't seen you wear those in a while.” Carl spoke up.
You sighed when no one had any leads. “Yeah, I know. Just been worried about losing them, they're pretty important.” You took the last bite of your cookie, dusting your hands together before speaking again. “It's really weird, they were both in my jewelry box last time I checked, but this morning there was only one.”
“You think someone stole one?” Carol's voice held a tight tone of suspicion, her eyes narrowing so slightly you could've missed it if you blinked.
“No, I mean, no one goes in our house besides you all. And I know none of you care about a single earring.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek in deep thought.
You felt that familiar sensation of warmth on your cheek, like someone had a hot iron near you.
You turned your head to your left, met with Daryl's eyes from his spot at the end of the other side of the table.
To your surprise he didn't look away like he usually did. He kept his gaze steady, his elbows propped on the table and his hands clasped together in front of his mouth.
You didn't feel butterflies like usual, and your cheeks burned for a different reason. For the first time you were the one to look away.
Rick had put together a group to scout out further into town for more resources. The usual suspects, Aaron, Sasha, Rosita, Abraham, Daryl and of course, you.
He hadn't made up his mind on if he was glad or not. He'd been stupid, feeding the sparks of his mild obsession, and that pretty little pearl earring he kept in his jeans pocket felt like twenty pounds of red-hot metal.
They'd set up camp for the night in the woods right on the outskirts of town. Abraham had set up mediocre sound traps around the small clearing, and Daryl couldn't help but snort when you walked right into one and the cans failed to clash together.
Fire was a dumb idea too.
Daryl had started to remember why he preferred being alone. Aaron was too used to the safety of the Alexandria walls.
Abraham told him he'd better put it out after dark, also throwing in a passive aggressive insult, and Aaron stuttered out an agreement.
It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes off you. He sat across the fire from you, watching you smile and laugh and joke with Rosita like you were two young girls in summer camp.
As the flames of his fixation on you grew, so did his confliction.
He had no problems with you. He'd barely even paid attention to you before you'd arrived at Alexandria, you were just another background character in his story that wouldn't make a difference if you died or not. But you'd grown close to Rick and Maggie, two people he cared about. So by extension, he cared about you too.
He wasn't sure when it started. It kind of just happened over time.
He was always an outside observer, keeping details of each person he knew on a list in his mind.
But you, he couldn't think of any reason you'd be so special. It was obvious you were smoking hot, he wasn't blind. But he'd seen his share of beautiful women. Maybe it was the fact you seemed to always have luck on your side, you could go out singing in the woods and never run into any trouble.
If the two of you weren't careful, that luck might change tonight.
Abraham and Aaron were busy looking at a map of the town and figuring out what pathing they'd take in the morning. Sasha and Rosita were sitting on their bedrolls cleaning their guns and talking about meaningless things, he didn't care enough to listen.
You were the odd man out. Just like him.
Sitting in the dirt on the other side of the fire, fidgeting with a stick in front of you while you thought.
He could tell you knew he was staring at you again. And judging by the way you were forcing yourself to keep your eyes on the stick you were drawing circles in the dirt with, you were trying your best not to look up.
He didn't expect you to look up. He almost let the confusion show on his face, caught off guard by his incorrect prediction. He saw the way your cheeks flushed even though the light of the fire made your face glow orange. He flared his nostrils at the sight, why'd you have to make it so damn hard?
His heart dropped when you suddenly stood and walked off into the woods.
No one had even noticed, too wrapped up in their conversations. Another thing that succeeded in his self restraint slipping away.
Daryl followed after counting three minutes in his head. He'd really hoped you'd come back before then, praying you'd be lucky enough to slip back through the trees before he got to his feet.
It was dark in the woods away from the campfire.
He could hear you a few yards ahead, your boots crunching lightly on leaves despite your attempts at being quiet.
He kept his distance, just following the sounds of your footsteps and the slight silhouette of your body, the moonlight seeping through the treetops barely grazing your hair and shoulders.
This was way too natural to him.
Now out here you were just like any other victim, but it brought him comfort knowing there'd be no way he could hurt you and get away with it. The two of you disappear off into the woods at night and only Daryl comes back? He might think the people around the fire made stupid decisions sometimes, but they weren't stupid enough to not be suspicious of him.
Maybe he could say walkers got you.
He clenched his jaw when he realized he was at such a desperate point that an idea that stupid even crossed his mind.
“Daryl?”
The sound of your sweet voice made him physically recoil, his hand falling from the knife in his belt that he didn't realize he'd been gripping.
He could barely make out your figure in front of him. You were facing him, maybe six feet away, standing underneath a large pine tree.
There was no use in hiding. Your eyes would've adjusted enough by now to see the shape of him.
Finally, he answered, his voice coming out in more of a growl than a human speaking. “Shouldn't be out here alone.”
There was silence before you filled it with the crunching of your footsteps moving towards him.
His body tensed as you drew closer, now able to make out the pretty features of your face. An image of you flashed in his head, blood running down your nose and lips, tears in your eyes, your fingernails raking down his wrist.
“I just needed a minute to clear my head.” You said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, like you weren't out in the dead of night stomping around loud enough for any walkers within a five mile radius to hear.
Daryl said nothing, his eyes fixed on your face as you slowly crept near. Although he hated not being able to read your expressions, he was thankful for it, because he was hanging on by a thread and if you even showed the slightest hint of fear, he'd snap. He wouldn't be able to resist if your lips trembled, or if your eyes widened and you stuttered a single apprehensive syllable.
But as his eyes adjusted even further, his mouth ran dry and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He felt like he'd been slapped in the face. That would've been less of a stun than the look you were giving him, standing only a few inches away from him.
Your plan had worked. You'd been plotting it ever since Rick paired you up in that group, the silent attention Daryl had been giving you ended up driving you mad. You found it absurd that all it took was a few stares to make you feel like he was some A list celebrity giving you special treatment.
Maybe it was a little stupid the way you went about it, but the curiosity eating you up inside didn't have you thinking straight. Walking off into the woods was one thing, but at night? In woods so thick you could barely see your hand outstretched in front of you? Blindly trekking through the leaves in the mere hope that he'd follow you and make a move?
You hadn't had sex in way too long.
Yeah, that was it.
That's why you were making the decisions of a dumb bitch in a horror movie. But at least it was Daryl you were after, you knew you'd be fine if you ran into trouble.
You thought you'd be fine.
Emboldened by the darkness and privacy you'd secured for yourself, you approached him. Your heart hammered against your chest, and you had to bite your lip to keep from panicking, the fear of rejection or a humiliating scolding almost made you change your mind.
Your eyes strained in the dark to make out the features of his face.
He looked almost expressionless, but there was something in his eyes, something that had your steady breathing turning into shuddering breaths coming from your mouth. His gaze looked like a textbook example of ‘dark’. Your heart felt like it was literally about to explode, and when you saw his upper lip barely twitch, you let out an accidental sigh, too exhilarated to feel embarrassed with yourself.
He was right in front of you then. You'd crossed every single inch of ground that separated you, and you could smell his signature scent of cigarettes, smoke, those spicy little mint leaves he'd chew on for his oral fixation. There was a hint of male musk as well, just barely there after a day walking outside in the woods.
You could see his chest rising and falling more dramatically now.
He was still dead silent, his eyes never leaving yours, even as you looked over every inch of him. You'd been biting your lip so hard it started to ache, and so you released it, your mouth opening to speak, you yourself unaware of what you planned to say.
The sound of Abraham’s whistle signal breaking through the thick silence had you feeling like you fell out of a plane. You sucked in a gasp and pulled your hand back from where it hung inches away from Daryl's chest.
Daryl's posture snapped into something so different it gave you whiplash. He was Daryl Dixon again, the sight so drastic you couldn't help but feel unnerved.
He whistled back before looking at you once more. It was still too dark to tell if he looked relieved or disappointed. “C'mon.”
Keeping his distance from people had never been a problem for Daryl. But what you did that night had permanently altered something inside him.
He didn't know if he wanted to fuck you or kill you. Maybe both.
You became his new favorite pastime.
When everyone fell asleep that night, he sat with his back against the same tree he'd been sitting under for hours, his eyes keeping their unwavering stance on your sleeping form. All the while he imagined hundreds of different things to do to you.
His mind kept going between strangling the life out of you, watching it bleed from your eyes. Or the other one, the image where he was burying his face between your legs with his tongue and teeth sucking and nipping, licking till it became too much and you begged him to stop.
He carefully planned out his next encounter with you over the course of days. He acted it out the night of a “party” at Aaron and Eric’s house, so focused on his plan he didn't even know what they were having a party for.
Daryl didn't care if you caught him staring anymore. That night in the woods he could practically smell how bad you wanted it, it didn't matter to him anymore if he disregarded all basic manners.
The last time there was a party in Alexandria was when Rick's group joined. Daryl hadn't gone to that one, the feeling of being an outdoor cat watching indoor cats eating their fancy wet food too much for him.
But he'd do anything to continue this little game with you. It was new, and there were no rules.
For the most part he was his usual self, sticking to the side and keeping enough casual conversation to blend in. The perfect balance between himself, and the part of him that imagined in great detail all the sounds you'd make.
He took a sip of the beer Aaron forced in his hands, his eyes looking back to you.
You looked like a fresh cut of meat just waiting for him to sink his teeth into.
The dress you wore hugged every single piece of your body, fitting you in a way that was almost poetic, but it was modest enough that it didn't draw unwanted attention. You were beside Rick most of the night, happily chatting and drinking champagne in a way that oozed confidence.
Every now and then you'd look at him, and he'd savor all the details of the way your confidence faded into something he didn't have a word for. You looked nervous, but hungry, like someone reaching out a hesitant hand to stroke the pelt of a tamed predator.
Daryl wanted to bite that hand, hold it in his harsh jaws while your other one stroked his fur.
You played your part well, after most of the formal greetings and casual conversation had been taken care of you slipped out the back door.
He counted three minutes in his head before making his exit, which was stopped by Carol.
“Leaving already, huh?” She gave him a knowing smirk, unaware that her assumption he was just bored was incorrect. He'd never been more entertained.
“Yeah, shit ain't for me anyway.” He played along with a nonchalant shrug, pulling a lone cigarette from his shirt pocket. “Done enough already just by comin’.”
Carol nodded, that smirk still on her face as she looked at the people standing around making friendly conversation. “Don't get into any trouble. Don't wanna help you hide bodies again.”
Daryl snorted, the cigarette bobbing between his lips. If there was anyone he'd come to for help hiding bodies it definitely would've been her. “Yeah yeah. Night Carol.” He gave her a pat on her shoulder before turning sideways to fit through the cracked door.
He hadn't expected you to be so good at this. He'd been prepared to walk down the steps of the porch and see you standing down the sidewalk, waiting for him like he was your prom date.
You weren't too good, though. He found you rather easily. The bottom of your heels left slight little indents in the dirt, leading between the houses, down the street, and right up to the sidewalk in front of your house.
His heart rate sped up a little when he remembered that house was completely empty, all but you.
Or so he thought.
You weren't anywhere to be seen. He checked every room, growing increasingly irritated when each one turned up nothing. He was about to give up and just head home when he checked your room one last time.
Something caught his eye, a blade of grass, his eyes followed the bits of grass to see those black heels sitting under your dresser, taking the place of your boots.
You tried to keep from anxiously picking at your fingernails as you stood behind the thick underbrush at the woodline, watching for any sign of movement along the outside walls.
There was a spot at the back wall near a platform no one really watched anymore, which is where the both of you had gone to leave without being seen.
You were beginning to think maybe you'd read him wrong. Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered that look he gave you at the party, it was impossible to describe. He was lacking any sort of expression, but in his eyes held this darkness that made swallowing your champagne hard when you'd seen it. The way he leaned against the wall near a group of people, his eyes steady and fixed on you, you could only decipher that as a look of craving for something he'd been wanting for a long time.
If you hadn't been looking at the Alexandrian walls, you would've missed it. For a split second you saw a flash of dark clothing, even darker hair, and you darted from your position behind the thickets.
Thankfully it wasn't as dark as that one night.
The sun had dipped down below the trees and out of sight, but it left just enough light for the sky to be a dark blue. The full moon made it even brighter, and soon you were in one of the houses right outside Alexandria.
You stood in the living room and waited. You'd already checked the house for walkers before this, not keen on the idea of a growling monstrosity of green and purple flesh ruining whatever might happen there when Daryl arrived.
If he arrived.
You were beginning to think maybe he wasn't coming. The heavy front door was open just a few inches, you'd wanted to be able to see him approach the house, to take him by surprise, maybe giving him the same fright he'd given you countless times.
Suddenly, the air grew heavy. You felt that feeling again, like you were in danger, the feeling you might get being stalked by a large cat.
There was a breeze behind you, and you recognized it as a draft from the back window being opened.
Although it was happening behind you, your mind raced as you played out the scene. His hands bracing against the walls on either side of the window, his first leg dipping over like a spider emerging from its tunnel.
The tap of a boot meeting the wood floor under the window, so light and careful you almost didn't hear it. A second foot, he was in the house, only across the room from you. You held your breath as the footsteps drew near, slow, deliberate, you could tell just by the timing of his steps he was approaching you like a leopard closing in on a wounded deer. Confident, patient, nearly sadistic.
The feeling of his breath on your bare shoulder sent chills through your body and goosebumps down your arms. It was cold and barely there, you felt like if you turned around you'd be met with an empty house.
His fingers were just as light as his breath, tracing the thin dress strap over your shoulder, down and to the middle of your spine.
Never in your wildest dreams did you think Daryl could be this confident in this way. He acted like every antagonist in a romance novel, dark and self-assured with every move he made.
You felt yourself relaxing as you leaned your back against his chest, feeling the leather of his vest on your skin, as well as the buttons on his black shirt.
The feeling of his hand snaking over your shoulder and up to your neck succeeded in sending every last drop of blood in your body down between your legs. You were fully prepared for the best slow, deep, mind-blowing sex of your life, but that quickly changed when his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed.
It wasn't a firm and sexy squeeze, it was a ‘wait that's actually way too tight’ squeeze.
Your eyes shot back open but you tried to keep your cool, your hands instinctively reaching up to grab at his wrist.
Apparently, Daryl didn't like that.
He suddenly had your back pressed against the wall of the living room with movements so quick and precise it made your head spin. You looked up at his face, lit with a dim blue light from the windows, searching for any signs that would be cause for panic.
He decided to give you that reason you were looking for, and wrapped his hand around your neck again.
For once, Daryl wasn't fighting some internal battle on if he should kill you or not.
He'd made the decision as soon as he crept in the window and saw you standing in the living room, facing the front door and biting at your nails.
That decision wasn't final, though, you had the power in your hands to change his mind.
Hopefully you'd be as lucky as you always were.
He looked down at your face as he kept his one handed grip on your throat, burning the image in his mind. Your eyes were wide and full of this otherworldly beautiful fear, so much uncertainty it made his already hard cock twitch.
Your hands were still on his wrist, as if it gave you some sort of control, something he found endearing. You still trusted him, you still thought you had a chance to regain the control you thought you had this whole time.
“This what you wanted?” He breathed, looking from your eyes to your lips. Your face had turned a shade darker from his grip, your lips turning a pretty hue of red. “Wanted me to hunt you down, and then what? Huh?”
He watched for your reaction, waiting to see how you'd play the hand you'd been dealt, and to his pleasant surprise you managed to nod.
Daryl's hand loosened just enough to send the blood back to your head and you sucked in a deep breath, before letting out a trembling whimper.
His lips twitched into a soft smirk, and he dipped his head down to press his lips against yours. You kissed him hungrily, swallowing the growl from his throat as your bare knee pressed against the aching bulge in his jeans. You moved it in firm circles, and he decided that earned a returned gesture.
He used his knee to roughly spread your thighs before giving you the same treatment. The whine that drew from your lips, and the way your eyes rolled back in your head, had him letting out a deep groan. He ground his knee up between your legs, long enough to feel the wetness seeping from your panties and through his jeans.
You didn't get a chance to tell him about the bed you'd cleaned upstairs for this. Which was unfortunate, given you'd gone out of your way to do so, not that he would've cared anyway.
He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, fingers finding the zipper of your dress and unceremoniously pulling it down to your ass. Your heavy breathing fueled his desire and he grabbed a fistful of your hair before yanking your dress down with his other hand so fast it burned.
With the grip he had in your hair he forcefully guided you onto the floor, releasing you only to settle between your thighs and slide his hands up your bare chest to his favorite part of you.
You got that look on your face again. Lust blown pupils, breathing softly through your mouth. You still hadn't figured it out yet, that you could very easily be in danger.
This time he used both hands.
A yelp got choked from your throat as he squeezed, allowing himself a few seconds to please himself. The white of your eyes turned a light pink at the edges, a few beads of tears forming there as well, the sight making his dick throb.
He released your neck and you gasped, sucking down lungfuls of air as your head spun. You felt like you were on a carousel the way you got so dizzy.
While you regained your bearings he unbuckled his belt and took out his dick, his right hand wasting no time in giving himself relief. You took the opportunity to slide off your panties, and when he saw the glistening of your wet folds in the deep blue lighting he growled. The sinful sound earned a whimper from you, and he refocused on your face to see a pitiful look of impatience.
Daryl switched to stroking himself with his left hand, and guided the tip up through your slick folds. He savored the way you looked then, biting your bottom lip as you prepared yourself.
Instead of giving the satisfaction he pulled his tip back and carried on fucking his hand. As soon as your eyes opened and you went to protest, his free hand went right back to your neck.
He loved the way you looked then, desperate and pathetic, so full of frustration it leaked out through tears in your eyes. He squeezed hard, completely cutting off blood and air to your brain, tugging his dick faster as you squirmed.
Daryl lifted up his knee to pin one of your thighs to the floor in an effort to keep you still. He took his hand away from his cock and spit in his palm, wasting no time in getting back to touching himself.
He could've easily come right there. If he wanted to, he could keep squeezing just a few more moments, and your squirming would've stopped. He could spill his load on your stomach and effortlessly slip into his cleanup routine, but aside from the fact that part of him didn't really want to kill you, the way you orgasmed had him fucking frozen.
He hadn't even touched you, but you came.
Your eyebrows scrunched together and the leg he didn't have pinned down wrapped around his waist, your hips rolling in a desperate attempt to get friction against your clit. He relaxed his hand from your throat and you let out this bubbly whimpering sound that made his hips instinctively jerk forward.
Daryl watched you, holding his breath without realizing it. She just came from you chokin’ her. The words repeated over and over in his mind as you rode out the last waves of your orgasm.
He had to snatch his hand away from his dick to keep his own orgasm at bay. Not yet, not a chance in hell, not after you just did that. You deserved something for showing him the hottest thing he never would've thought possible.
His body went on autopilot. He slid down from your body, planting kisses in a trail from your neck to your naval, down to your thighs, then back up again. He buried his face between your legs, not giving you a moment's notice or time to recover. He swirled his tongue around your clit, grazing his teeth against it before sucking it between his lips.
You bucked against him like a wild horse, the stimulation so much your body didn't know how to react. It was desperate, finally getting some stimulation, but you'd just had a world shattering orgasm only seconds before. He wrapped his arms under your thighs and pulled you down against his mouth again, his grip tight to keep you from squirming away again.
The only control you had was your ability to choose what to do with your hands. Your fingers wrapped around clumps of his hair, winding up so tight it made his scalp burn.
He growled in response and took your clit between his teeth, holding it there as a stern warning, only letting it go when you stopped pulling so damn hard.
If he had the power to freeze time for everything but the two of you, he would've eaten your pussy for hours. But he settled on just long enough to pull another orgasm from you, sliding the tip of his tongue from your throbbing clit to the new trail of slick cum dripping out of you.
Daryl didn't give you time to recover from that one either. As soon as your cry faded out he flipped you on your back, ignoring the yelp of protest you made when your hip bones dug into the hard floor beneath you.
The only warning he gave you before shoving his cock into you was a quick slide of his swollen tip between your puffy folds. Just right enough to lubricate the head, and then he drove it in.
The way you groaned in pain from the stretch almost made him cum right there. He stilled inside you, not for you to adjust but for him to fall back away from the edge. The benefit to you was just lucky.
“Fuck.” It was the first time in a while that he'd spoken, and it was solely due to the way your hot plush walls squeezed his dick like a fist.
He should've known you'd feel like that, he hadn't seen you with a man the entire time he'd known you. His chest shuddered with his ragged breaths, and once he was ready he put both hands flat on your upper back. He put his weight there, keeping him upright so he could lift his hips and fuck his dick into you with all his weight.
Your arms slid out in front of you, your hands grasping for something, anything, you needed something to hold onto.
He wouldn't grant you that kindness either. He rested his knees back on the floor on either side of your thighs and grabbed your arms, bending them painfully behind you. When he held your wrists together at the base of your spine he started fucking you again.
Each rough snap of his hips drove a whiney moan from you. He liked that a lot, it sounded similar to a different type of crying, and he slowed down to keep his dick from getting friction burns. While you used the opportunity to squirm under him in an attempt to get more comfortable he spit on his fingers, letting it drip onto the base of his cock before changing positions once again.
He moved your arms up over your head and laid down on top of you, the weight of him pressing down on your back pushing all the air from your lungs.
Your check rubbed against the floor as he started thrusting again, this time settling on a new pace, rough and fast despite the fact he barely drew his dick out. If he wasnt fucking you so roughly, the feeling of his head resting against yours would’ve given you butterflies. You became acutely aware of the closeness, there wasn't an inch of space between your bodies, and every grunt and groan he made had his lips brushing up against the side of your ear.
He used his hips to grind his dick inside you, the new motion drawing filthy gasps and whines from you from the way his tip seemed to roll and dig into each and every crevice inside you. You'd never felt anything like that before, so used to the normal thrusting. He only pulled back about an inch, rolling his hips in a way that had you shamelessly moaning.
Daryl moved your hair from the back of your neck, pushing it up and away before leaning down to dig his teeth into the skin right at the base of your neck. He bit hard, something you didn't expect, and you cried out in pain, your body jerking under him.
It was hard for you to breathe with his full weight on your back. The heat of his body gave you uncomfortable hot flashes, adding to the sweat you'd already made. Your hair stuck to your forehead and you made an attempt to push it off, which was made difficult when he changed paces once again.
He started drawing out further now, but he'd just drive back in harder, faster, causing your body to grind roughly against the wood floor. The skin over your hip bones started to burn as well as your nipples, something you found almost agonizing but shamefully pleasurable at the same time.
He fucked you like that until you came for the third time, now around his dick. He pushed himself off your back and used his hands on your shoulders to keep you pinned down, watching as he breathed through his mouth at the way his cock disappeared inside you.
You were lucky he felt like a new position.
He waited until you stopped writhing under him from your orgasm before grabbing your thigh to turn you on your back.
Relief washed over you as the pain in your hip bones faded, only to have that relief taken from you when he grabbed your waist and yanked you up and off the floor.
Your feet didn't even touch the ground, your body swaying as you tried to get a sense of gravity, Daryl's hands tight on your sides as he took you to the couch.
All you could do at that point was relax and let him move your body for you, your hands shaking against your chest as he sat you on the arm of the couch. You let him push you down on your back, your ass and legs dangling over the arm for a few dizzying seconds before he grabbed your legs and held them around his waist.
Daryl pushed his dick back in your abused pussy and groaned, gripping your thighs tighter so he could pull you closer to him.
Your back arched almost uncomfortably, your hips angled up against his pelvis, the only part of your back that touched the cushions of the couch ended up being your shoulders. You were thankful you could at least breathe now.
Daryl was skilled at taking small bits of relief like that away.
He leaned down and bit your already sore nipple so hard and so suddenly you nearly shouted. Your hands instinctively went to grab his hair for support, but he leaned back and your fingers fell from his face.
He was proud of the new angle. Your pelvis tilted up and him fucking down into you sent him as deep as possible, and soon he began fucking you rough enough that it bordered closely on too painful.
Lucky for you, you liked it. Your walls burned pleasurably from the dragging of his dick, and he started speaking again.
“Look at you, dirty little whore.” He teased as he looked down at your abused body with a grin. Your nipples and hips were red from him fucking you into the floor, your neck equally as red from the force of his hands.
Your sweet, sweet pretty face, twisted up in a mix of pleasure and pain, your cheeks red, your lips swollen, streaks of black makeup running down your face. The sight made him seriously consider picking up drawing, because that look was, without a doubt, the best thing he'd seen in his entire life.
“Daryl,” You finally plucked the courage to speak to him and he raised a brow, impressed, he'd gotten used to you taking it so well without any complaints. “Too much.” Your voice broke as you whined, another orgasm bringing you to shambles.
He snorted as he watched you come around his dick yet again, your words asking for mercy but your body clearly asking him otherwise.
“You can take a little more, yeah?” Even he was becoming spent, his heart banging in his chest so hard he could hear the blood in his ears. He slid his hands down your sweaty chest to your breasts, his dick twitching inside you at the way you cried when he pinched that same sore nipple.
“I don't know,” Another wave of shivers overcame you, eliciting exhausted, long and shaky whines. Your body couldn't process going a little under two years with little to no sexual activity, and then suddenly being mind numbingly overstimulated with the most exhilarating sex you'd ever had in your life. Each time you thought you'd gotten used to it he'd pull the rug out from under you, either by causing pain or giving you more pleasure that you knew what to do with.
As if on cue you felt his flattened hand smack the side of your face, demanding your focus. Your eyes struggled to find him, your vision fuzzy and wobbly, but when you looked up and saw him your heart fluttered.
“Look at me. C'mon.” He didn't want you passing out on him, that took all the fun away.
Despite the obvious fact he had a clear disregard for your comfort or discomfort, the way he was looking down at you sent butterflies through your stomach and chest. His pupils were so blown with lust that you couldn't see the pretty color of his eyes, and his eyelids were heavy with the approach of his orgasm. His lips, glistening from the way his tongue had darted out to wet them, parted as he huffed in ragged breaths.
You could tell if he had a picture of you like this, he'd be reacting the same way with just his hand. The thought had a moan bubbling past your lips.
“C'mon.” His hips snapped forward roughly, jerking in a break from his steady aggressive rhythm. You cried out from that, your hands finding the sides of his dangling belt to grab onto like the reins of a horse.
He'd held back his orgasm as long as he could, but the sight of you shaking and trembling under him, exhausted and overstimulated, he couldn't last much longer. Your face twisted in discomfort as he fucked you faster again, your hips suddenly doing their best to wiggle up and away from the frenzy of his dick.
You'd managed to get a few short moments of relief, sliding backwards until his dick nearly slid out.
His upper lip curled in disbelief, and he shook his head, scoffing at you. “Don't be a baby, you can take it.” You were yanked back down on his dick, the sensation of being forced back into overstimulation had you moaning in distress.
You nodded your head feverishly, setting your jaw as you looked up at the ceiling, trying your best to keep it together. But each time his hips would ram into yours it made his crotch slam against your clit, and it got too much, your breathing sped up as the panic of overstimulation set in. You really tried then, actually tried to wiggle away, and to your surprise, and much needed relief, he stilled his hips.
You were expecting him to maybe find a better way to restrain you, or put you in a position you couldn't move from, but he just used the moment to catch his breath before his demeanor changed completely.
“Hey, hey, shh.” The sweetness in his tone made you whimper, your eyes falling closed as he comforted you. It felt so fucking good, you found yourself willing to do anything and everything to feel that tenderness some more. “Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” He cooed as your breathing slowed and your fingers stopped shaking.
Daryl released your thighs and with unexpected ease, he slipped his hands under the arch in your back, picking you up and moving so he could sit down on the couch, keeping you stuck on his cock the entire time.
The new position of being on top sent a fresh wave of pleasure flipping in the bottom of your stomach, the tip of his dick pressed right at the end of your walls.
It wasn't painful like you'd felt before when your cervix was accidentally hit too hard, quite the opposite, the feeling of pressure was so strangely good you found yourself pushing down with all your weight, desperate to feel more.
Daryl tossed his head back with a grunt at the feeling, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting it. His hands took their place on your hips, his fingers digging deep into the soft skin there.
He'd only switched to this position because his legs were getting unsteady, but the way you looked above him was something he didn't expect to enjoy as much as he did.
He took a second to catch his breath before he planted his boots firmly on the floor, pressing his back against the couch, and when he was perfectly leveraged he used his hands to keep your waist hovering above him, using the angle to fuck his dick up into you so hard you immediately came again.
The way you came for the fourth time made his jaw drop.
He watched you through heavy lidded eyes, taking in every second of it as he breathed through his open mouth. The way your face tensed up in twisted concentration, and then the way it dropped as you fell apart, your mouth falling open with a guttural moan that put every single goddamn porn video he'd seen to shame. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your mouth hung open in such a beautiful ‘O’, he broke.
He let go of your waist so your full weight would slam down on his cock and he came, his head tilted back against the couch, his dark hair falling away from his face.
You watched his face the same way he'd watched yours, rolling your hips down against him as you drew out every wave of the strongest orgasm you'd ever had. He looked fucking beautiful. You'd do everything in your power to get him like this again, but this time with your camera.
His orgasm literally shook him. He clenched the skin over your hips in a tight grip, using it to keep you as tight as possible against him. In those few seconds his mind went blank, almost devolving him into an animal. Those instincts wanted to keep you there on top of him, so he did, rolling his pelvis to fuck his cum deeper into you.
Daryl held you there until way after he came down from his high, only releasing his grip on your skin when he felt his dick grow soft.
You couldn't move off him if you tried. Your legs felt like you'd lost all muscle mass, same with your arms. Your body slumped forward and you fell against his chest, your nipples burning as they rubbed against his shirt and vest.
His arms wrapped around your torso, squeezing your body tight against his, his hips giving a few last weak rolls up against you.
It took you both a while to catch your breath, the mouth breathing leaving the two of you uncomfortably thirsty.
He made the first move when he realized you couldn't, and he slid your body off of his into the seat beside him. He sat there for a few more seconds before he carefully put his tender dick back in his pants.
His belt buckle clinked noisily as he fastened it, his fingers shaky and inaccurate. He watched as you slowly rose to your feet and grabbed your panties, the rising and falling of his chest gradually slowing.
The sight of you struggling to climb into your dress had him feeling a smug sense of satisfaction. He chewed on the skin around his thumb, watching you slip your feet into your boots before you leaned against the wall next to the front door.
You looked at it and faltered, realizing that the two of you had been pretty loud. When you looked back to him with a concerned expression you were just met with an uncaring smirk, the man now on his feet and wiping the sweat from his face with the top of his shirt. He grabbed his crossbow from the floor and flung it over his shoulder before leading you back home.
oh i have dirty gross evil downright filthy rick grimes thoughts rn someone stop me from writing it because it is literally grim and dirty and horny... peace and zen i am peace and zen 🧘♀️🧘♀️
Summary-> (Early season 3 based) Winter had been a long journey for all of your group, especially you and Daryl given that there was always a lack of privacy. You find it difficult to feel at home in the prison, but Daryl is always there for you when you need him, and you have the chance to relish in a night alone - or as lonesome as a cell can be (2.9k)
Warnings-> 18+ mdni, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, established relationship, mentions of arrest and imprisonment, swearing
daryl dixon // norman reedus works masterlist
It was an adjustment, that much was clear. After having been locked up in a prison for a few years, the last place you had wanted to be was in one, but here you and your group were, in a cell block after having cleared it out.
Your knee bounced as you sat upon the steps, gnawing upon lip, staring at the familiar grey walls that brought bad memories back into your mind. It wasn’t something you wanted to voice as a problem, you’d spent all winter out on the road, enduring the cold nights, you should have been grateful like everyone else was.
“Y’ okay?” Daryl asked as he took a seat beside you, brushing his shoulders with your own with a comforting manner, reading with no doubt that something was bothering you. Most of the day you preferred to be outside, killing the walkers that clawed at the fences, and you jumped at the chance to go out on a run for supplies just to get out of this pit of misery.
“I’m fine. Just need a distraction from all of this.” You gestured around you, sending him a small smile, feeling far too conscious to even think about falling asleep. “I know it should be good that we’ve found somewhere, and it is, don’t get me wrong, but-“
“I know.” He told you, nodding in understanding, before he put his large hand over your smaller one, clasping it in his grip and bringing it up to his lips. “Don’t have to like it, none of us do, but we woulda died if we hadn’t found this place. And that’s the last thing that I wan’ to happen to ya. I’m grateful for everything you did, ya know.”
“I know Dare.” You decided to look at him rather than the tin you were sat in, meeting his softened blue eyes. “Think if I saw Merle again I’d kick his ass for abandoning me on that night which cost me months in the normal world with you.” He grunted in agreement, smiling when remembering that you had found their camp, and you’d done just that to his older brother.
“Ya got out, that’s all that matters. Especially before all this and the world goin to shit.” The thought of you trapped in somewhere like this and most likely being turned into walker chow or one of them had his heart bursting at the seams. It was a vulgar thought, and the last thing that he ever wanted to happen to you. He wanted to protect you, and he should have done that before, but he was petrified, and you were too stubborn and claimed that you had to pay for your mistakes.
He’d come to see you a few times when you were locked away, he hated that a panel of glass separated the both of you, all he had wanted to do was run his fingers through your hair and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t, so instead he counted the days and hours until your release, he had this whole idea of collecting you from that place and driving you far away.
But your release day had been the same day that the entire planet was engulfed with the spreading news of a disease that turned people into monsters, and Merle wouldn’t let him go to see if you had made your sanctioned escape. He had no idea whether you were still alive until he saw Shane carrying you into the camp, exhausted from the lack of both food and fluids and running god knows how many miles just to survive.
“Guess you’re right.” He always was, even if he was too selfless to admit it. “Do you maybe want to try sleeping in a cell? I know we’ve got this whole thing of liking the floor, but I guess it’s worth a try.” Daryl surprising agreed, pulling you to your feet after he had stood, the two of you walking to an empty cell, passing by the other members of your group that were either asleep or lying down in isolation.
It was a big step for you to enter a cell after the months you had been holed up in one by the law, but Daryl kept his hand on your elbow, reminding you that he was there. And always would be. And so unsurely, despite it being your idea, you stepped within the cell, it was devoid of any personality, just a bunk and the normal silver basin and toilet, which all reminded you that this wasn’t home. You hoped that one day you’d find somewhere that felt less suffocating, there had to be a place out there, beyond the chain fence, where it was safe to breathe without the risk of walkers eating you in your sleep.
As you entered the room, you were strangely comforted by the sound of Glenn’s snoring from the cell over, he was no doubt laying beside Maggie, then both lulling in the chance to rest. “It’s not so bad.” You muttered, kicking off your mud accented boots, as Daryl remained close to the door, blocking the view from anyone that could pass as you shrugged out of your jeans, and lifted your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your underwear. It was something that you hadn’t been able to do in prison without the harassment of officers or other people fulfilling their sentences.
Daryl said nothing as you stood still for a moment, closing your eyes, before you reached back, unclipping your bra, his eyes danced over the expanse of your back, every scar traced by his pupils and every mole a target that he planned to pelt with gentle kisses. You turned around to face him, like a vixen testing his limits, tilting your head as you padded along the floor towards him, your fingers brushing against his sleeve butchered flannel. “I want your shirt.”
There was no resistance on his part as he helped you unbutton each button on it, shrugging it off of his broad shoulders as he handed it to you, watching you slip it on. You inhaled his scent as you did only a couple of the buttons on it, before testing the mattress with your hand on the bottom bunk, before sliding upon it and closing your eyes. “Aren’t you going to join me?” He said nothing as he silently kicked off his own boots, tossing the knives he carried out from his pockets onto the floor, them deliciously clattering upon the cement, as he readied himself to lay beside you.
“It’s been a long time since we had a bed.” Daryl spoke in hushed volume, not counting the time on Herschel’s farm after he had been scathed by a bullet in the left side of his head, no thanks to Andrea. He shuffled as he tried to get comfortable, deciding on laying on his side and facing you, trapping you in his arms as his nose brushed against your own. “At least it’s better than that one you had in your shitty old trailer.” He smirked, watching as you tapped his shoulder with your screwed up fist, rolling your eyes when you remembered why it hadn’t been so comfortable.
“It was perfect, we broke it in. Not my fault that the springs couldn’t hold up.” He shook his head at your words, clearly that sale you had got it from had been a scam, but you had insisted that it was better than sleeping on the floor. Truth be told, Daryl didn’t care where he slept, as long as he had you securely beside him, he never wanted you to be taken away from him again, and he was insistent that he wouldn’t allow that to happen.
“I think you’re the one tha’ couldn’t hold up. Or be quiet.” He remarked, causing a scoff to pass from your lips, as you attempted to turn away from him but he wouldn’t allow you. Instead his grip on you got tighter, as he raised a brow at your actions. “But if yar blamin’ it on the damn mattress, we migh’ as well see if this one is any better.” It wasn’t very often that Daryl would smirk, but when he did, you practically melted in a puddle in front of him and forgot where you were, which in this instance, was a blessing. His hand trailed down your sternum that was exposed by your lousy buttoning of his shirt that you wore, descending dangerously lower, so that his fingertip hit the top band of your panties.
Your breath hitched, as your body became almost immobile, frozen from his more that welcomed touch. He teased you, running his hand hand back to your stomach only to trail it back down to where his destination had been. “Damn it Daryl, do something.” You hissed, careful to keep your voice down. “I swear to- oh.” His hand had slipped into your underwear, rubbing against the outside of your cunt, causing your hips to jut up into his touch. He always knew how to make you sufficiently aggravated, you’d have cursed out from the bubbling annoyance in your chest if you had no worries that anybody could hear the two of you.
With that he slipped a finger into your walls, it felt like it had been a long time since the two of you had an opportunity to be physical. All through winter, after losing the farm to the mass of endless walkers, you’d had sex once out in the woods, when you were supposed to be hunting, and because of your lack of action you felt touch starved. Even despite Daryl proceeding to hold your hand when the pair of you rarely walked at the back of the group, and sleeping side by side with him. It just hadn’t been enough, but for now these taunting walls allowed you some release, ironically enough.
“Yer so fuckin’ tight.” Daryl muttered, kissing up your stomach all the way up to your lips, ushering and drinking your whimpers that threatened to escape. “Woulda fucked ya more if I’d had the chance baby, now I’m really gonna have to stretch ya out before I can put my cock in ya.” You could only moan into his mouth, hands clasping around his wrist as you ground yourself down on his hand, you let out a squeal as he unexpectedly entered another finger, alarmed by the welcomed intrusion, however Daryl stopped all movements. He spoke quietly to himself, eyes dancing around with a scheming glimmer in his eyes, as an idea revelled in his mind.
He yanked a pillow out from beneath your head, causing you to pant as you clenched desperately around his fingers, trying to allure him into continuing. Daryl raised your hips, fingers still in you, as he placed the pillow beneath them, your mouth making an O shape as he hit a new angle inside of you. If you hadn’t been in a prison, knowing that it was your worst nightmare, he would have calmed your sounds by placing the pillow over your head, but he knew where the line was drawn and he was never one to cross it if he was aware of your discomfort. “Good girl.” He drawled out, deciding to fasten the pace of his fingers as a wet spot began to leak onto your panties, he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip as he watched you. You were close, and it had come faster than expected, given how many months it had been.
“More.” You pleaded, wanting his cock, no matter how much it hurt when he stretched you out, but instead you were given another finger, and Daryl grunted as he rutted into the bed. “Dare, need you.” You huffed, feeling empty when he removed his fingers. The time dragged as he unbuckled his belt and pulled off his jeans, and finally he clambered on top of you, his naked form teasing every nerve in your entire body. “If you need me so bad, why don’ ya ride me?” He whispered, rolling the both of you over so that you were atop of him. You leant down, your hair falling in a cascade around both of your faces as you pressed your lips against his, sliding your cunt over his cock.
He was frighteningly hard, it had been months since the both of you had gotten this far, and there were no interceptions that could stop you this time, or so you hoped. Your slick coated his length as you ground yourself on him to fulfil your own insatiable drive of hunger, his hands bruising your hips as he attempted to keep you still so he could slip inside of you from beneath your trembling form. His tip grazed your clit, sending you into a frenzy, you couldn’t wait a second longer you mindlessly decided, grasping his erect cock in your hand to hold it still, as you slid him inside of you. It was an ethereal feeling, the two of you relished in the sensation of being so close, and not just emotionally.
Daryl’s head reached up, pulling you down flush on top of him, as he spread an array of butterfly kisses over your collarbones and the middle of your throat. “I love ya girl, you drive me absolutely crazy, but yar my kinda crazy.” He stroked your hair lovingly out of your face, distracting you from how he raised both of the weights of the lower halves of your bodies up, and before you could respond with your own spoken words of love to him, he began to thrust up into you, making the world around you drown into nothing more than a distant memory. Your breathing was messy as it mixed with your partner’s, you sturdied one hand on the pillow beneath his head, the other long discarded to the floor, as your opposite braced itself on the wall, clawing at the impenetrable surface.
“Fuck Dare.” Tears were glazing your eyes as you felt each vein of his cock within your cunt, and you began to move with his own thrusts, finding a rhythm that suited the position that you were in. You were careful not to raise your head too high so that you didn’t hit it on the bottom of the bunk above you, Daryl’s right hand left your hip and rested forcefully on your ass, squeezing the flesh as he tried and failed to hold in his grunts. Surely by morning, there was no doubt that someone would make a commotion about hearing you through the screen-less doors, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not after how long it had been since you had evoked such passion with the man below you.
Sweat began to bead upon his forehead, slicking the growing locks onto his face, as you brushed them away. A heavy creak rattled from the bed as Daryl once again turned you over, and pounded in you from above, without allowing his cock to slip out from your sweet and wet pussy. From the red tint that had appeared on his face, and how he frowned as though he was on a mission, it was clear that he was getting close, which wasn’t a surprise considering the amount of time that had passed since your bodies had moulded together in such a way. You grasped him by the back of the neck, pulling him down to entrap him in a fiery kiss, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as you approached your own high.
And there it was, the destination that you had been caving for, your own release. After all of those months that you had served as a resident in a prison, you’d missed his touch, and as soon as the two of you had reunited in Atlanta, you’d made the most of the time you could get together. Daryl’s thrusts began to get sloppy as he struggled to keep up his pace after feeling you clench around his cock and cum all over it, sending him into a delirium to chase his own high. He could feel his balls straining to be emptied, and when he was almost there, he pulled out, not wanting to further the risk anymore of getting you pregnant given the state of the world, and began thrusting himself in the apex of your thighs, until finally he allowed his seed to spill over your flesh.
He exhaled a deep sigh, leaning down to press a kiss against your sweaty hairline, before reaching down and grabbing your discarded shirt, wiping your upper legs clean. He wasted no more time to curl up next to you and bring you into his large arms, staring at your face, letting you know without words that you were the most important thing to him. He’d do anything for you and to keep you safe, nobody was going to separate the two of you again, he was stern on that. “Maybe this place isn’t so bad.” You muttered lovingly into his chest, brushing your nose against where his heart lay, and Daryl releases a small but real smile as he tugged the blanket out from tour forms, awkward as his manner was, and wrapped it around the two of you, so that you could drift off to sleep in his arms and pretend for a moment in your dreams that the world wasn’t as it was.
PITT AND WALKING DEAD CROSSOVER PITT AND WALKING DEAD CROSSOVER WALKING DEAD AND PITT CROSSOVER
i’ll spit my ideas out into this when they come to me, please feel free to steal and write more using these ideas if you wish, enjoy
you, robby, and abbott (or any other combo of folks) got forced into attending an Emergency Medicine conference in Atlanta
that’s unfortunately where you were when the outbreak hit, far from home in an unfamiliar city
jack’s running your little unit like your lives depend on it (because they do), and because he’s uniquely qualified with facing the horrors of at least one kind of warfare
