⊹⊱♡⊰⊹

It started small.

Tiny things.

The prison had become strangely gentle lately.

Not safe exactly.

Never safe.

But calmer.

There were routines now. Gardens growing in the yard. Laundry lines swaying in the breeze.

People laughed sometimes.

You still startled when people touched you, though.

Not in fear.

Just surprise.

Like you weren’t used to it.

Daryl noticed because Daryl noticed everything about you.

The way you froze slightly anytime Carol squeezed your shoulder. How your entire expression softened whenever Beth linked arms with you. How you lingered embarrassingly long after hugs.

At first, he didn’t think much of it.

Then one evening Glenn threw an arm around your shoulders while telling some stupid story during dinner.

And you—

You leaned into it instinctively.

Tiny movement.

Barely noticeable.

But your whole body relaxed like someone finally loosened a wire pulled too tight.

Daryl stared.

Because the look on your face—

Jesus.

Like warmth physically surprised you.

Then Glenn let go after a second and you smiled like you were trying not to miss it already.

Something uncomfortable twisted in Daryl’s chest.

The realization hit fully a few days later.

You’d gotten hurt on a run.

Nothing major.

A twisted ankle and a few cuts after slipping down an embankment.

Still enough that Hershel ordered you off your feet for the day.

Daryl found you sitting alone in one of the prison cells that evening changing the bandage around your ankle.

You looked frustrated.

Mostly at yourself.

“Need help?” he asked from the doorway.

You startled slightly before relaxing.

“Oh. Hey.”

Daryl crouched beside you automatically.

Large rough hands reaching for the bandage.

You hesitated only a second before letting him help.

Silence settled comfortably.

Then—

When Daryl’s hand wrapped carefully around your ankle to steady it—

You went still.

Not tense.

Still.

Your breath caught softly.

Daryl glanced up immediately.

You looked embarrassed suddenly.

“…Sorry.”

His brow furrowed.

“For what?”

You shrugged awkwardly.

“Nothin’.”

But your face had softened in that same strange way again.

Like simple touch affected you too much.

Daryl stared at your ankle in his hands.

Then slowly:

“…When’s the last time somebody took care’a you?”

The question slipped out before he could stop it.

You blinked.

Then looked away.

Daryl’s stomach dropped immediately.

Because that silence?

That silence was answer enough.

“Oh,” he said quietly.

You laughed awkwardly.

“It’s not a big deal.”

The words sounded rehearsed.

Like you said them often.

Daryl hated that instantly.

He finished wrapping your ankle carefully.

Then without really thinking about it, his thumb brushed lightly over your skin once.

You visibly melted.

Not dramatically.

Just—

Your shoulders loosened. Your eyes fluttered slightly.

Tiny reaction.

Huge impact.

Daryl’s brain short-circuited completely.

Because suddenly he understood.

You weren’t just shy.

You were touch-starved.

And apparently nobody had been taking proper care of you.

Something deeply possessive and furious rose inside his chest.

Not at you.

Never at you.

At the idea of someone going this long without softness.

Without affection.

Without being held.

Daryl swallowed hard.

“…That feels nice, huh?”

Your face immediately turned red.

You looked horrified at being noticed.

“I—”

Daryl’s expression softened instantly.

“Hey. Ain’t makin’ fun.”

You stared at him uncertainly.

Then quietly:

“Yeah.”

The honesty in that tiny word wrecked him.

After that, Daryl couldn’t stop noticing it.

And once he noticed it—

He started doing something about it.

Not consciously at first.

Instinctively.

Like his body made decisions before his brain caught up.

He’d hand you things and let his fingers linger slightly. Stand close enough your shoulders brushed. Rest his palm briefly against your back guiding you through doorways.

Every single time, you reacted.

Subtle.

But there.

A tiny breath. A softened expression. A quiet almost-startled look of relief.

And every single time, Daryl felt like he was losing his damn mind.

Because you looked at touch like it was something precious.

Like you weren’t used to being handled gently.

It made his chest ache.

The first hug happened because of a nightmare.

You woke the prison with a scream.

Daryl was moving before he fully woke up.

Knife in hand. Heart pounding.

He found you sitting upright on your cot breathing hard, eyes glassy with panic.

No danger.

Just fear.

Daryl lowered the knife slowly.

“Hey.”

You looked up immediately.

Humiliation crossed your face.

“Sorry.”

Again with the apologizing.

Daryl hated that too.

“You ain’t gotta apologize for nightmares.”

You rubbed at your eyes quickly.

“M’fine.”

Bullshit.

Daryl stepped closer carefully.

Then stopped.

Because he wanted to touch you.

Badly.

Wanted to comfort you.

Wanted to ease that awful lonely look in your eyes.

“You want a hug?”

The question came out rough.

Awkward.

Like he physically wasn’t used to offering things like that.

You stared at him like he’d spoken another language.

“A what?”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably.

“A hug,” he repeated. “Jesus Christ.”

Your eyes widened slightly.

“You’d hug me?”

The sheer disbelief in your voice nearly fucking killed him.

Of course he would.

Jesus.

Daryl’s chest tightened painfully.

“…C’mere.”

You moved instantly.

Like your body decided before your brain could.

And the second Daryl wrapped his arms around you—

You collapsed against him.

A tiny broken sound escaped your throat as your hands clutched weakly at the back of his vest.

Daryl froze.

Because nobody had ever held onto him like that before.

Like he was safety. Like he was home.

Your entire body relaxed by degrees in his arms.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Like you were afraid it might disappear.

Daryl tightened his hold immediately.

Protective instinct hitting him so hard it almost hurt.

“It’s okay,” he murmured awkwardly into your hair. “Gotcha.”

You trembled once against him.

Then whispered so quietly he almost missed it:

“Thank you.”

And that—

That absolutely ruined him.

After that, things escalated quickly.

Because now Daryl knew.

And now you knew he knew.

Which meant every bit of affection became charged with unbearable awareness.

Daryl started touching you constantly.

Not even on purpose anymore.

A hand at your waist. Your knee pressed against his during dinner. His arm slung around your shoulders during watch duty.

And every single time, you unconsciously leaned into him like a moth to a flame.

Daryl became addicted to it immediately.

The way your eyes softened when he touched you. The sleepy little sighs you made. How naturally you started seeking him out afterward.

It destroyed him.

Completely.

Carol noticed first.

“You’ve gotta stop looking at her like that.”

Daryl frowned.

“Like what?”

“Like she hung the moon and invented kindness.”

Daryl looked offended.

“Ain’t lookin’ at her like nothin’.”

Carol stared.

“You carried her juice box across the yard yesterday.”

“…She asked.”

“She was fifteen feet away.”

Daryl grunted and walked off.

Carol laughed herself breathless.

You were not doing much better.

Because Daryl Dixon touched like he meant it.

Careful. Steady. Protective.

Every casual touch from him felt devastatingly intimate because Daryl wasn’t casually affectionate with anybody else.

Only you.

And the worst part?

He always looked at you afterward.

Like he needed to make sure you were okay.

Like your comfort mattered to him more than breathing.

One evening in the common area, you ended up tucked against Daryl’s side beneath a blanket.

Halfway through the conversations, you realized his fingers were absentmindedly rubbing slow circles against your arm.

Your brain nearly shut down.

You tilted your head slightly to look at him.

Daryl noticed immediately.

“What?”

“…Nothing.”

His hand paused.

“You want me t’stop?”

Immediate panic hit you.

“No.”

Too fast.

Too desperate.

Heat flooded your face instantly.

Daryl stared at you.

Then very slowly resumed the gentle motion against your arm.

Something soft and wrecked crossed his face.

Like that answer affected him way too much.

Truthfully?

It did.

The breaking point came during a storm.

Heavy rain hammered against the prison roof while everyone crowded into the cafeteria overnight.

Space was limited.

Blankets everywhere. People sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder.

You sat beside Daryl shivering slightly from the cold.

Without a word, he opened one arm toward you.

Invitation.

Your heart stumbled.

“Y’sure?” you whispered.

Daryl looked at you like the question offended him.

“Get over here.”

You curled against his side carefully.

Daryl immediately wrapped his arm around you fully.

Warm. Solid.

Safe.

Then—

Without thinking—

You nuzzled slightly closer.

Tiny movement.

Instinctive.

Daryl stopped breathing.

Because holy shit.

You trusted him.

Trusted him enough to seek comfort from him naturally.

His hand tightened carefully against your shoulder.

And then quietly, rough like confession:

“Ain’t nobody been takin’ care’a you right.”

Your chest tightened painfully.

You looked down.

“No,” you admitted softly.

Daryl went still beside you.

Then after a long moment:

“Gonna change that.”

Your breath caught.

You looked up slowly.

Daryl was already staring at you.

Eyes dark. Intense. Terrifyingly honest.

“Don’t think I can stop now anyway,” he muttered.

And suddenly you realized something equally devastating.

Daryl wasn’t just comforting you because he pitied you.

Daryl liked touching you.

Needed it too.

Maybe almost as much as you did.

Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

“Daryl…”

His hand slid carefully up your back.

Slow.

Gentle.

“You got any idea what ya do to me?” he asked hoarsely.

No.

No, you really didn’t.

But judging by the way Daryl looked at you right now—

Like touching you had become something dangerous and necessary all at once—

You were starting to understand.

Then finally, slowly, Daryl pressed his forehead against yours.

“It’s you who’s wearing a tiny top and thong. If you’re so cold, dress warmer.” He teases you. You know he’s joking and loves it when you wear almost nothing to bed with him.

“I know you love it silly.” You say, kissing his lips.

“You know me so well. I can warm you up in other ways…” Daryl jokes, not really, tucking your face into his neck, feeling you inhale his motor oil and cigarette smell. Meanwhile he has your hair up in his nose, your smell intoxicating him. “You smell so good, I want you.” He says, pushing his hand down to your ass, moving it towards his dick, groaning when you start to rub your barely clothed cunt on his soft, starting to grow, bulge.

“Oh, why so soft huh?” You joke. “Can’t get it up, you old man?” You say giggling after feeling a sharp slap on your ass.

“I’ll show you how old I am.” He says, squeezing your ass hard and slamming his face into yours, tongues intertwining, interchanging saliva. He tastes like cigarettes and you love it. “You have to be quiet baby, can’t have others hear us.” He says into your mouth, knowing damn well everyone has already heard you fucking so many times that they moved you to the furthest and most isolated cell of the block. “Will you be quiet for me?”

“Mmhh...” You mumble an affirmative response into his mouth.

“Say it, baby.” He demands, separating himself from you, leaving an empty and cold space.

“Yes.” You say, whining from the loss of contact.

“That’s my girl.” He says, laying on his back. “Ride me baby, since you’re so cold, work for it.” He smirks, putting his hands behind his head, flexing those muscles you love so much.

You whine but get on top of him. He’s rock hard underneath you, making a mess in his boxers.

You push yourself down on his covered bulge, both of you moaning at the much needed contact, and start rocking back and forth.

“That’s it my girl, doing so well for daddy.” He says, shoving his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, wetting them and then placing them on your ass to play with your thong string, pulling it to the side to reveal your asshole. His wet fingers find that little tight spot and press on it.

“Oh…” you whine. You quickly pull off him to see a wet patch on his grey boxers, not knowing if it’s his or your wetness on there, maybe both. You pull his boxers down and pull your panties to the side.

“Spit.” You demand Daryl, who obliges and spits into your open hand. You rub his spit on his cock and line yourself on him. Pushing down, your head and eyes roll back from pleasure. “Yes, so big.” You say, trying to bounce faster.

“You’re doing to well baby.” He says, helping you by holding onto your ass cheeks and pushing you up and down. Meanwhile, his fingers re-find that tight hole and start pushing in. “This ok?” He asks, pushing his finger deeper into you, you nod.

“Feels so good, daddy.” You say, drool falling onto his chest while you speak.

His finger goes all the way in, a second one following.

“Yes, yes…” you moan, going faster.

Daryl pulls your tank top down, revealing your tits, and buries his face in them, sucking one and then another while his other hand plays slightly with your clit and that’s when you come. The orgasm so hard your vision goes blank and you’re squirting.

“Such a good baby, you’re doing so well.” He praises you once you’ve come down from your high. As you look down, you see his lower part being covered in all types of bodily fluids. You instantly blush and hide in his neck. “Don’t you dare hide from me now, I’ve seen and touched all of you. That was the hottest thing you’ve ever done. We should do this more often.” He says and you giggle.

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store hummed overhead, casting a sterile, flickering glow over the aisles of stale chips and canned soup but the atmosphere between you and Daryl was anything but cold. It was caustic, the air was thick with the residue of a three-hour screaming match over a shredded tire and Daryl’s stubborn refusal to admit he’d botched the patch job. That frustration had curdled into a desperate, aggressive hunger and now, the only sound filling the store was the rhythmic, wet slap of skin hitting skin.

You were bent over the checkout counter, your palms pressed flat against the cold Formica, your pants and underwear pooled around your ankles. Daryl was behind you, chest heaving against your back as his calloused hands gripped your hips with bruising intensity. He was fucking you with a raw, punishing cadence, driving his thick cock deep into your pussy with every thrust, as if he were trying to drive himself right through you.

Even now, with your vision blurring and your breath hitching, you couldn’t shut your mouth.

"This...the only thing you're good at, Dixon?" you gasped, your voice strained and shaky. "Since you can't...oh fuck! fix a damn tire... you just...ah! fuck things dumb?"

The response was instantaneous. Daryl’s hand flew up, palm connecting with your right butt cheek in a loud, stinging smack that echoed through the empty store. The shock of the pain sent a jolt straight to your clit and you let out a loud pathetic moan, head tossing back.

"Watch yer damn mouth," he rasped, his voice a low, dangerous growl near your ear.

He didn't slow down, if anything, the insult fueled him. He reached forward, winding his fingers deep into your hair and yanking your head back sharply. The sudden tension in your scalp forced your throat open, leaving you exposed as he hammered into you. You rolled your eyes back in sheer pleasure, the sensation of being dominated and filled to the brim making your brain feel like it was melting.

The friction was intense, a searing heat that built with every plunge. You could feel the walls of your pussy stretching, gripping him tight as the wet sounds of your lubrication splashed against his thighs. You were being fucked dumb, the cognitive part of your brain shutting down until there was nothing left but the feeling of his cock hitting your cervix and the stinging heat on your skin.

"You're so...goddamn desperate," you teased, a breathless laugh escaping you. "Mmm angh! Can't handle...a little criticism...so w-what? have to just...shove it in?"

Daryl groaned, a sound of pure animal frustration and accelerated. He began to jackhammer into you, his thrusts becoming short, fast and punishing. You were shaking, fingers clawing at the counter as the pleasure became too much, forcing a tidal wave to crash over you. 

You felt your internal muscles seize, pulsing rhythmically around him as a forceful orgasm ripped through you. You screamed, the sound echoing off the linoleum floors, body shuddering under the weight of the climax but as the waves began to subside, Daryl didn't stop. He kept grinding into you, breath hot and ragged against your neck and cock still hard and insistent.

You panted, head hanging low and voice returning in a needy, blabbering whine. "Don’t fucking stop, ’m gonna cum again, fuckkkk agh! You wanna break me?" You shifted your hips, feeling the lingering sensitivity. "D-Daryl…If you actually...make me go again... I'll be quiet...all the fucking way back to the quarry. I swear."

Daryl tightened his grip on your waist until it hurt. He leaned in, lips brushing your ear with a gravelly, ruined whisper.

"That’s even if ya can still walk by then," he rasped.

The sheer arrogance of it, the promise of the wreckage he intended to leave you in, sent a fresh surge of arousal crashing through you. Your pussy clamped down on him in a sudden, involuntary spasm and the intensity triggered a violent reaction. You felt a hot, gushing release as you began squirting, the fluid spraying down and soaking your thighs as you wailed, body arching back into him.

Daryl let out a choked sound, his own control finally snapping. He let out a guttural groan, body stiffening as he drove himself in one last time, burying his cock as deep as it could possibly go. You felt the hot, thick jets of his cum erupting inside you, filling you to the brim, pulsing against your walls in heavy waves.

He stayed there for a moment, panting, forehead pressed against your shoulder, before he slowly pulled out. The sound of him sliding out of your drenched pussy was wet and loud and as he stepped back, he delivered one final, sharp smack to your sore ass.

"Now keep yer damn word and shut yer mouth fer once," he commanded, voice returning to that stubborn, gruff tone.

You collapsed forward onto the counter, limbs trembling and quaking, breath coming in shallow sobs of exhaustion. You felt completely undone, mind now a blank slate of pleasure and fatigue. As you slowly pushed off the counter and straightened, you felt a warm, viscous stream of his cum leaking down your inner thigh, dripping onto your panties.

You leaned back against the nearest shelving, staring up at the ceiling, body still humming with it. You thought about the birth control pills you had tucked away, enough for the next six months. 

Every morning he told himself he was being stupid. Every night he touched the small velvet box hidden inside his jacket and thought about you anyway.

It had happened during a supply run outside Alexandria. It was just like any other day. Just another abandoned house slowly being swallowed by time and nature. Broken windows, collapsed furniture, dust coating every surface.

Daryl had only entered because Aaron wanted canned food from the kitchen cupboards.

Instead, Daryl found the ring upstairs. A tiny velvet box hidden inside a bedside table drawer.

He almost ignored it completely, but then he opened it.

And there it was.

A simple ring with a small diamond that still caught the afternoon sunlight somehow despite years of dust and ruin. Daryl stared at it for a long moment. The old world felt strange sometimes. He found ghosts everywhere.

People who once loved each other enough to promise forever. Most days Daryl thought forever was a dangerous thing to believe in.

Then he thought about you.

About your sleepy smile every morning when he returned from runs. About the way you automatically reached for him. About sitting on the porch together after dark while you rested your head on his shoulder, fingers interwined. About how Alexandria finally felt like home because you were there. And suddenly the thought appeared so naturally it nearly stole the air from him.

Marry her.

Daryl immediately shut the box again.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself.

Yet somehow the ring still ended up in his pocket. The problem was that once the idea existed in his mind, it refused to leave him alone.

By the second day, Carol noticed something was going on with him. Mostly because Daryl kept absentmindedly checking his pocket every five minutes.

“You’re acting weird,” Carol Peletier observed casually while chopping vegetables.

“Ain’t.”

“You nearly walked into a wall earlier.”

Daryl grunted and Carol narrowed her eyes.

 “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You’re going to ask her to marry you.”

He looked genuinely horrified.

“Keep your damn voice down!”

Carol gasped dramatically. 

“You are!”

“Shut up.”

“You found a ring, didn’t you?”

Daryl stared at her silently, Carol placed a hand over her heart.

“This is the best day of my life.”

“It ain’t even like that.”

“You have carried around that expression for three days straight, Daryl. You look like a frightened raccoon.”

“A what?” He scowled deeply.

“You heard me.”

Carol spent the next several days being completely unbearable. Every time you walked into a room she smirked at Daryl like she knew a secret.

Which she did.

Daryl considered throwing himself off Alexandria’s walls at least twice.

Meanwhile you remained blissfully unaware, mostly because Daryl still acted normal around you.

Well.

Mostly normal.

You noticed the increased staring and the fact he kept opening his mouth like he wanted to say something before changing his mind. One evening while sitting together on the porch outside your house, you finally nudged his shoulder lightly.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothin’.”

“You’re terrible at lying.”

“Said I’m fine.”

You studied him carefully, he looked nervous, which almost never happened unless something truly mattered to him. You reached over and took his hand gently.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Daryl’s chest tightened painfully, that was exactly the problem, because he loved you so much it genuinely frightened him sometimes.

That night he barely slept, and by morning he had decided two things.

First, he was absolutely going to ask you.

Second, he might actually die from the anxiety beforehand.

The opportunity arrived unexpectedly later that afternoon, most of Alexandria gathered near the centre of the street helping repair fencing after a recent storm.

You stood nearby sorting tools while laughing at something Glenn said.

And Daryl suddenly thought, If I don’t ask now, I never will.

His heart hammered violently.

“Hey,” he muttered.

You looked over immediately, smiling the second you saw him.

There it is, Daryl thought helplessly.

That damn smile.

“You alright?”

“Yeah.”

He absolutely was not. Daryl rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms against his trousers before glancing around.

Too many people.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

“Can ya come with me a sec?”

You tilted your head curiously but followed him without question, Daryl led you behind one of the quieter houses near the edge of Alexandria where the noise from the others faded into the background.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, worried, you have never seen Daryl like this before. Daryl turned towards you. Then immediately forgot every single sentence he had prepared.

Brilliant.

“Daryl?”

He swallowed hard, his fingers fumbled nervously inside his jacket pocket before pulling out the small velvet box. Your eyes widened instantly.

“Oh.”

Daryl stared firmly at the ground, he was too afraid to look at you in the eyes.

“Found it on a run.”

You looked down at the ring before looking back at him, he was still staring at the ground.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.”

Daryl’s heart pounded so hard he genuinely thought he might throw up, finally he forced himself to continue but he still couldn’t look at you. 

“Been carryin’ it around.”

“Why?”

Daryl finally looked up at you then, his blue eyes were full of something so open and vulnerable it made your chest ache.

“Cause I kept thinkin’ about you.”

Daryl rubbed a hand nervously over the back of his neck.

“Ain’t got some big speech planned or nothin’,” he admitted roughly. “Don’t really know how ta do this right.”

“You’re doing fine,” you whispered, he laughed a little under his breath.

“Nah. Prob’ly not.” Then his expression turned serious again. “But I know I wanna wake up next ta you every day I got left.”

Tears immediately filled your eyes Daryl stepped closer.

“Know the world’s all messed up now. Maybe rings don’t mean much anymore.”

“They do,” you whispered shakily as his thumb brushed nervously against the edge of the box.

“You make this place feel good.” His voice cracked slightly. “Make me feel good.”

Your heart completely melted.

“And I…” He exhaled shakily. “Hell.”

“Take your time.” You smiled, you could only imagine how difficult this was for him. He was never a man of many words. Daryl looked at you with so much love it nearly hurt.

“Will you be my wife?”

Silence.

Daryl’s entire body tensed immediately. Then you started crying, his eyes widened in panic.

“Oh God. Was that bad?”

“No!” You laughed through your tears instantly.

“You cryin’ seemed bad!”

You grabbed his jacket quickly before he could spiral further.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!”

Relief hit his face so hard it almost looked painful, you were sure a huge weight fell off his shoulders just then.

“Oh thank Christ.”

You burst into laughter while he shakily slid the ring onto your finger. It fit surprisingly well.

“There,” Daryl muttered softly, staring down at your hand like he could not believe it. “Mine.”

Your entire chest warmed.

“Your wife,” you corrected gently.

Daryl looked absolutely wrecked emotionally by those words.

Then he kissed you, with overwhelmingly tenderness.

One hand cradled your face while the other settled firmly against your waist like he needed to keep you close.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were smiling helplessly. Unfortunately, neither of you realised Carol had followed him.

“Oh my God!”

You jumped, Daryl groaned. Carol stood nearby looking ready to explode with excitement.

“I knew it! I knew it!”

“You were spying on us?!” Daryl snapped.

“Yes,” Carol replied easily. “And I regret nothing, that was so cute.”

Then she spotted the ring on your hand and immediately screamed loud enough to alert half of Alexandria. Within seconds, people started appearing around the corner.

Glenn looked delighted, Maggie gasped happily, Rick blinked once before grinning.

“Holy shit,” Glenn laughed. “Daryl proposed?”

“Everybody shut up,” Daryl muttered, already turning red.

Too late.

The entire street erupted into celebration, yet through all the noise, Daryl only looked at you. Still staring at the ring on your finger like he could barely believe this was real.

“You happy?” you whispered, Daryl looked back up immediately, then he cupped your face gently.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Got everythin’ I ever wanted.”

And honestly? You felt exactly the same way.

~Masterlist~