Rae Writes Fiction

it was no surprise when daryl avoided you after your last interaction. what a blow to the ego, being humiliated like that. but fuck, neither one of you could stop thinking about it.

the way he melted in your hand, the pathetic whines escaping his lips—they haunted your brain like a demon in your ear. and daryl? boy, was he fucked. the man couldn’t shut his eyes without picturing your snide grin, that cheeky fuckin’ face. couldn’t get himself off without longing for your hand. shit, when did i get so weak? he thought.

naturally, the next time you two spoke was awkward. a community campfire, though somber and bittersweet, was a nice change from fighting, eating, sleeping, repeat. despite the fact that either of you could’ve gotten up, sat somewhere else, you both chose to side eye each other like middle school enemies.

the group went off on tangents, old stories from before the fall. chuckles, even a few bouts of real, raw laughter escaped them. the booze helped, of course, but for once, everyone was calm. it almost felt normal.

“what about you, daryl?” rick finally asked, a sloppy smile on his face. “best memory of the old world. go.”

you snorted, causing daryl to shove you. a million ideas came to mind, ones that would no doubt stab daryl’s ego. he eyed you suspiciously, before waving his hand.

“nah, ain’t got nothin’ y’ain’t heard before,” he muttered.

“oh, come on, daryl,” carol nudged him. “don’t be a wuss. share a damn story.”

you smirked, watching him flounder. of course, on the outside, he just looked spaced out, lost in thought. but oh, you knew. he wasn’t one for fond memories, or old tales of his past.

“bet i know what ‘is favorite pastime was,” you mumbled, eliciting a couple snickers.

“ah, yeah? go on, ‘en. say it,” daryl growled back, voice slightly slurred. “since you seem t’know so much ‘bout me.”

you paused, wondering how mad he actually was. worth it, your brain replied. a big, sick grin painted your face, and you sucked in, waiting to say it. “jackin—“

daryl didn’t let you finish, grabbing you by the collar and dragging you along the dirt. “yeah, we’ll see jus’ how much you know ‘fore sunrise,” he snapped.

rick hollered something at daryl, but it was ignored. the group glanced around as daryl yanked you along the ground, wondering if this was the time to step in. “leave ‘em,” carol scoffed.

“umph,” your back hit the ground as daryl dropped you onto the yellowing grass. “jesus, man, whiskey don’ fuck around with you, ah?”

“y’wanna make a fuckin’ fool’a me?” daryl grunted, towering over you with glazed eyes. “you think you know me?”

your shit-eating grin dropped slightly, your confidence waning as his anger seemed more and more dangerous. “not like i’s gonna actually blow your cover,” you snorted, hiding your nerves. “can’t have big man rick thinkin’ you’re a softy, now can we?”

“shut up,” daryl snarled, hit boot stomping dangerously close to your thigh. “jus’ shut the hell up. you dunno nothin’.”

“i know that you absolutely fell apart with my hand around your cock,” you replied, unable to help being snarky.

the wind blew some leaves up from the dirt, an unsettling chill running through the air. daryl huffed, before slowly crouching down to be eye level with you. he didn’t speak for a moment, his heavy glare boring holes into your skull.

“you made me beg once,” he finally grumbled, voice low and dark. “don’ make me a bitch.”

your eyes went wide, unsure of where his head was at. you couldn’t gauge his next move, and that alone made you hesitant to give a mocking comeback. instead, you shook your head. “never called you a bitch,” you said, voice much smaller.

his brow went up, as if searching your features for deceit. he found none. “don’t have to,” daryl replied, calmer that time.

his hand came up, stroking your cheek gently, carefully. his eyes darkened, pupils swallowing the icy blue of his gaze.

“you’re easy to make fun of,” you smirked, voice breathless.

daryl chuckled at that. he supposed he was a bit of a hot head. leaning in, his breath was hot against yours, stare becoming more intimidating. you shuffled back until you were propped on a large rock. the angles cut into your back, but you ignored it.

daryl bit back a smirk, sensing your discomfort. he wondered if you were nervous, scared, aroused. “go on, then,” he jerked his chin at you. “say what you wanna say.”

you didn’t move. didn’t breathe. you said nothing. he raised a brow.

“…i liked it,” you admitted.

daryl scoffed. like that was news to him. his hand shot out, holding your throat. gentle, not squeezing, just holding you still. “you’re a freak,” he muttered.

“you liked it,” you spat back, a dusty pink blotching your cheeks.

“says who?”

“the cum in the dirt,” you smirked.

he snapped. maybe it was the booze on his breath, your incessant taunting, or his underlying attraction to you. maybe all three. but daryl kissed you, teeth and tongue, not gentle or sweet.

“fuckin’ bitch,” he grumbled against your mouth, biting your bottom lip and tugging.

you choked back a whine, hips jerking instinctively. “pussy,” you snapped back.

that’s how daryl ended up straddling you, hand tangled in your hair, tugging your head back, claiming your neck. how his belt came unbuckled by your nimble hands, cock out with your familiar fingers wrapped around it.

“fuck,” daryl bit your shoulder, bucking into your strokes.

“see?” you smirked. “you like it.”

“i’ll kill ya,” he growled, hand gently squeezing your neck just to hear you squeak. “keep strokin’.”

your smile never faded. god, you were such a freak. daryl wouldn’t say it, sure, but he was finding himself just as enthralled as you.

“you act like—ack—no one’s ever made ya cum ‘fore,” you giggled, strained from daryl’s hand. “like a virgin.”

“shut up,” daryl snarled, panting heavy from your tight grip of his dick. “you talk too much.”

“prove me wrong,” you dared, pupils blown wide.

daryl’s hands pressed against the rock, just beside your head. he caught his breath as your hand devilishly slowed. you caught a glimpse of those canines, almost a smirk.

“yeah,” he nodded. “alright.”

and then your back was in the dirt.

his tongue trailed down your body, not even bothering to take off your shirt, just shoving it out of the way. he nipped your hips, making you squirm and loving it.

when daryl got to your abdomen, he undid your jeans with his teeth, yanking them down just enough to tease.

“fuck off,” you groaned, arching your back in need. “don’t tease.”

“no?” daryl grumbled. “you don’t think you deserve it?”

he went down on you first, sloppy and wet, like a cannibal devouring human flesh for the first time. he groaned and slurped—disgusting if not for how good it felt. your hands came down, tugging his hair desperately.

“holy shit, daryl, slow down—“

he paused, lips shiny and eyes glossy. “can’t take it?”

you whimpered, a small noise that escaped your lips without permission. “jus’…. fuck me?”

daryl tilted his head. got ‘em.

pants discarded onto the forest floor, he lined himself up, yanking your hips up to meet his. you stared wildly, wondering if he’d even fit.

for the first time, daryl paused. his expression turned gentle, and his hands hovered over your stomach. “you good with this?” he asked.

you didn’t hesitate, nodding yes.

“m’kay,” daryl mumbled, before he pressed the tip against your entrance. “gon’ go slow. don’t scream.”

“hah,” you let your head fall back. “please. jus’ tell me when it’s in.”

“right,” he rolled his eyes, pressing in.

one inch. two. three. you grit your teeth and sucked in. your nails dug into the dirt.

“good still?” he asked, eyebrow raised. “or can you not feel it?”

“fuck you,” you spat. “keep going.”

so he did. slowly, daryl pushed himself to the hilt, groaned as he let himself sit there. your breaths came heavy and uneven, getting used to the stretch. “jesus…” you breathed.

“go on,” he rasped. “tell me i got a tiny virgin dick.”

“shut up,” you whined. “move.”

daryl chuckled, slowly pulling out, the tip catching, before sliding back in with a grunt. “fuuuck, so tight,” he grumbled.

your voice got weaker as he gained rhythm. god, it was good and you couldn’t even deny it now.

“fuck yeah, oh god, mhm,” you babbled, eyes shut. “keep going, keep… yes…”

“christ,” daryl shook his head, hand moving to cover your mouth. “keep quiet, idiot. ‘less you want an audience.”

but he kept going, picking up the pace. the way you clenched around him had daryl reeling, cock throbbing inside you.

you continued rambling under his palm, begging mindlessly. it was cute, how quickly you’d fallen apart. he smirked, leaning in close. “what’d i tell ya? got me to beg once, only fair i do the same t’you.”

then his hips snapped forward, sharp and purposeful. you squeaked under his hand, eyes wide.

“don’t scream,” he reminded you softly.

daryl was fucking you now. pounding, head nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he thrust in and out with fervor. boom, boom, boom, you were close, crying into his skin.

“don’t,” daryl growled. “gon’ draw ‘tention. gon’ make me cum quick if y’don’t shut it.”

“mmn’fair!” your moans muffled.

“nothin’s fair,” daryl grit, coming to a sharp halt. “jus’ wait… jus’ wait.”

you whined pathetically, body aching for release.

“you can wait,” daryl whispered sternly.

you shook your head, pouting with your eyes.

daryl scoffed, “i can keep goin’, but we’ll be done quicker.”

he finally let his hand fall from your mouth, hearing you gasp, admiring the sticky drool on your chin.

“don’ care,” you panted. “close, please.”

“what?” daryl leaned in, grinning darkly. “what’d you say?”

you groaned, grabbing his collar and pulling him against you. “i said please. wanna cum, damnit.”

daryl rumbled low in his throat, a pleased sound, before leaning back. “alright. where you want me?”

you paused, confused.

“stomach? face? ain’t stuffin’ ya. don’t like ya that much.”

“don’t care,” you whined.

“fine. dealer’s choice,” daryl shrugged, before grinding his cock in again.

your noises were too loud, though. he couldn’t let go without risking a hoard to come watch the show. so daryl flipped you over briskly, shoving your face in the dirt.

“smack me for air,” he growled, before forcing his way back inside you.

with your cries now muffled into the ground, the new angle had daryl struggling to keep quiet. so tight, so deep.

“fuck, you’re fuckin’ milkin’ me,” he grunted. “gonna cum soon, you better be close.”

he slammed home over and over, the slick sound of flesh on flesh echoing through the forest.

“breathe,” daryl snapped, yanking your head up by your hair to hear you wheezing. “gonna cum?”

“mhm,” you croaked. “please!”

“gonna give it to ya,” daryl spat between breaths. “gonna fuckin’ cum fer me, ah? do it. do it, fuckin’ cum—“

“daryl?!” a familiar voice rang through the forest.

rick grimes. fucking fabulous.

to get daryl into a comfortable enough headspace to even consider letting go of control, is no easy feat. getting a dixon to open up is like trying to break a brick wall with a plastic spoon. he’s hard-headed, stubborn and cold. so why do you have the feeling he’s a whimpering mess underneath it all?

it started on accident. you were looking for someone else, and frankly, daryl was the last man you wanted to run into. but on your hunt, you stumbled across daryl, leaning against a tree. a hand clasped over his mouth, muffling the whines as his other hand pumped his cock, leaking pre-cum all over the forest floor. what a mess, you thought. there’s no way that’s…

but oh, yes it was. daryl dixon, eyes watery and fluttering, hips bucking like a wild animal. shit, you’d never seen him so desperate. hell, you’d never seen him expressive at all, let alone gasping and moaning like a total man-whore.

of course, the show was short lived, as daryl came minutes after you found him. spurts of hot, white load spill onto the grass, and daryl’s soon huffing, puffing, flushed and guilty.

the image haunted you for weeks, plaguing your mind like a sick disease. of course, you let no one know what you saw. because hell, you’d be called a pervert for it, despite daryl being the one jerking it in the woods.

but it’s not an easy thing to get over. when you saw him wandering away from the crowd next, you had to follow. curious.

back against the tree, eyes fluttering, zipper pulled down. daryl was at it again, like a dog in heat. you didn’t know what to think, what might’ve gotten into him that made his libido spike—you weren’t even sure he could get it up before now—but something had him whipped.

which was all fine and dandy until you slipped and hit your face on a rock. blood pooled, spilling from your nose with a groan, one that had daryl pulling his pants up, stuffing his aching dick away as he saw you struggling.

“jesus H. christ,” daryl growled, before marching over. “the hell y’doin’?!”

you blinked, a goofy, messy grin on your face. “totally not watching you jack it,” you said bluntly.

daryl scowled, ready to rip you a new one. “oughta leave y’here to rot,” he grumbled.

“you oughta,” you spat, grass and dirt coming out of your mouth as you stood. “but you won’t.”

“says who?” the man snapped, glaring accusatorially.

“says the boner in your pants,” you replied with a shit-eating grin. “you ain’t just gonna leave yourself hangin’, are ya?”

daryl debating smashing your face into a tree. but lord knows he ain’t one to start something he can’t finish. instead, he stared at you with a beet red face, trying to process what just happened.

“are ya?” you repeated, taking a step closer.

daryl meant to move back, to lean away from you, but he was frozen. “shuddup,” he spat.

“nah,” you snickered, cupping his chin. “y’know what i think? heh… i think you wanna keep going. think you’d like an audience, someone to push you while you desperately try t’cum.”

daryl grumpily moved his head out of your hold, but felt his pants tighten further. goddamn, where did this side of you come from?

“c’mon, dar,” you cooed, smirking something fierce as you stepped even closer. “you know how irritable you’d be if you just… walked away? how pent up and stiff?”

you let your hand rub up and down his arm, feeling him shudder against your touch. damn, this man was a mess—a broken wreck who’d never been given an ounce of love in his life.

“i could help you,” you breathed, brushing your nose against his ear. “c’mon, jus’ lean up against the tree… let me help…”

you pushed him until his back hit the wood, and your fingers danced around his belt, mocking him. the man wanted nothing more than to bash your head in, to scream at you, call you a sick pervert and fuck off somewhere for the rest of the day.

unfortunately, he couldn't seem to move. he stood frozen, allowing your hands to undo his belt, unzip his fly. "damn," you snickered. "still hard as a rock, doll."

"don't fuckin' do that," daryl grumbled, looking away with a flushed face.

"why?" you cooed, licking a stripe up his neck as your hand wrapped around his aching cock slowly. "can't take it?"

"ain't no doll," the man spat.

you couldn't hold back a laugh. it was adorable, how shy he got like this. you never knew him to be hesitant, to be nervous. but here, now, with his cock in your hand, slowly stroking him... god, he was a wreck.

it was inevitable that he'd start giving in. soon, daryl's hips were bucking into your hand, nails digging into the bark, breath heavy. your hand moved faster, but not fast enough to give him what he needed. curse you and your taunting ways.

"fucker," daryl snarled, still unable to make direct eye contact.

"oh, c'mon," you purred, leaning in close. "you can do it, baby, c'mon. cum."

daryl shook his head. not because he didn't want to finish, but because christ, he was humiliated. and that fact only got him closer.

"f-fuck off," he growled.

you scoffed, hand slowing until it came to a stop. "heh. okay," you replied, letting go of his swollen dick.

daryl huffed in frustration, suddenly looking you dead in the eye, a hint of desperation hidden beneath the anger and irritation. "what..." he panted.

"you said to fuck off," you smirked, stepping back. "so... i'll go."

daryl let his head fall back against the tree, catching his breath. his dick was throbbing, twitching, uncomfortable in the cold air without a hand to grasp it, to keep it warm. daryl knew this game. he was going to have to admit it. kill me now, he thought.

"please..." he muttered under his breath, looking down in defeat.

"hmmm?" you leaned back in, mocking him with your expression. "what?"

daryl groaned, wiping his face and debating whether or not to go through with this. his own hand grasped his cock, desperately attempting to relieve that tension. but he knew what he wanted.

"please," he repeated more firmly. "jus'... fuckin'..."

he grunted, stroking faster. he had to. he couldn't stop now.

"you want... hm?" you tilted your head, eyes glazed over with lust as your hands traced his sides. "ohhh... you wanna cum, huh?"

"fuckin' please," daryl roared, heart pounding. "don' care anymore, just fuckin' do it, god, fuck-"

"shhh," your face moved into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. "relax, baby. let me take care of you..."

daryl sighed, a breath of relief, as you replaced his hand. slowly, you matched his pace, your grip god-sent. it was humiliating, horrendous and gut wrenching, being degraded like this. and yet, he was letting you do it.

“you got it,” you praised, squeezing him just right, letting your thumb swipe across the tip. “jus’ drippin’ for me, ain’t ya?”

daryl whined, nails digging into the tree bark. he felt his stomach churning, that familiar coiling. he almost wanted to draw it out, to feel your hand forever. but god, he needed to cum. his hips thrusted involuntarily, eliciting a snicker from your lips. he glared up at you through wet lashes, but you only went faster. he tensed, panting and gasping like a pathetic dog.

“gonna cum?” you breathed, biting his neck gently.

daryl only nodded.

“got it,” you smirked, moving at the perfect pace, just enough pressure. “go ‘head. cum for me.”

daryl’s head fell back, scraping his scalp on the rough wood of the tree. he didn’t even feel the sting, just the pounding in his chest and his balls tightening. “fuck, fuckin’, fuck, i’m–“

his words were cut off by a strangled snarl, something deep and primal as he let go. your hand slowed, but didn’t stop as you milked his orgasm out. he spilled onto the forest floor, tainting it with his seed as he wheezed, breathless.

“ohhh, there ya go,” you cooed. “so good for me, doll. so good. such a good boy.”

soon, your hand left his cock, and daryl nearly collapsed. his legs were jelly, mind blank. you looked over his disheveled appearance, how the sweat stuck strands of hair to his forehead. he looked utterly wrecked. it was beautiful.

daryl finally looked up at you, flushed and spent. “fuck… fuck you,” he grunted.

“you would,” was your only response.