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
Masterlist
Etsy Shop! | Support My Blog | Coming Soon | Prompt Ideas
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.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
"What's up, Doctor S!" Daryl walks over to where you and Carol are standing.
"Hey Daryl!"
"Mornin Daryl!" At least two different people call out from different directions. He is momentarily stunned, looking around briefly, surprised these new people knew his name, let alone going out of their way to speak to him. He looks back to you, and you smile.
"Good morning, Daryl," you singsong, reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He looks down, clearly embarrassed.
"Smells good," he says, referring to the food Carol was passing out.
"Good morning to you too," she teases. "Just so you know, we liked you first."
"Stop," the archer blushes, takes a bowl and scooping up some food with his fingers dramatically, plopping it in his mouth. You chuckle at his childish behavior, knowing the attention made him uncomfortable.
"Hey Carol, he's mine," you playfully poke the older woman and she grins at you.
"Ima leave," he threatens half-heartedly, but coming to stand beside you. "Sleep good?" he asks you, and you nod, feeling your inside warm up. He didn't get to bed til pretty late, long after you had, as he was on watch last night.
"Once you were there I did," you utter quietly as to not embarrass him too much, but still having your fun. He looks down again, his long hair falling into his face.
"Mm," he huffs, taking another big scoop into his hand, this time moving closer to you, leaning in and dramatically eating off his hand.
"You animal!" you laugh, playfully shoving his hard chest.
"Hey, Patrick," Carol greets the young boy who has just come up.
"Good morning, ma'am. Morning Mr. Dixon, Mrs. Dixon," he greets both of you. All three of you stop in your tracks, stunned into silence. Your eyes are so wide they almost pop out of your head and Daryl looks like a deer in headlights.
"I-uh, uhm..." you start, unsure how to respond. You are flattered, and have absolutely no issue being referred to as Daryl's wife... However... The archer's face is beat red and stunned, just staring at the boy. "Uh, you can just call me Y/N, Patrick. I'm not much older than you," you try to make light of the immensely awkward situation. He seems unaware of why you are all suddenly awkward and silent, but nods.
"Uh, Mr. Dixon? I just wanted to thank you. That deer you brought back yesterday, well, it was a real treat. And I'd love to shake your hand, sir." He outstretches his hand and Daryl continues to stare at the younger boy, still dumbfounded. You give him a little nudge and he clears his throat, before popping each of his food covered fingers into his mouth and slapping his hand into Patrick's smaller one, giving him a firm shake. Patrick grins before walking away and Carol continues to stare between the two of you, unsure what to do now.
"Well... I'm just gonna... get back to it, then," she mumbles, jabbing her thumb in the direction of the food.
"Sorry..." you mutter finally, looking up at Daryl.
He chews on his thumb for a moment, before saying: "Why?"
"For...that. I know that kinda stuff makes you... uncomfortable."
He thinks for a long moment, studying you.
"Wha? Ya don' wanna be my wife?" he teases, shoving you with his shoulder lightly, starting to shuffle away from the crowd.
"I-uh, I... What?" you stammer and he chuckles.
"Relax, I 'on't care. Was funny, s'all," he shrugs. You finally relax and laugh.
"Oh so you do know how to joke!" you tease.
"Better watch yer mouth, Mrs. Dixon," he mutters the last part more quietly, but gives you a teasing smirk. You blush wildly and try to hide it in your hair.
"Daryl!" Rick shouts, motioning him over from by the fence where they are getting ready for a run. Daryl lets out a huff and sets down his bowl.
"I'll see ya later?" he asks, and you nod. He hesitates for a moment, but seeing you smiling up at him, he can't help but lean down and give you a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek, close to the corner of your mouth, taking his time pulling away from you.
"Be safe," you mutter, your face still close to his, soaking him in.
"Always am," he assures, grabbing your hand and giving it a little squeeze before starting to head toward Rick.
After a few paces he turns around, walking backwards, saying: "I'll see ya soon," the corner of his mouth raising in a brief smile, silently telling you he loved you.
Etsy! | Support My Blog | Coming Soon | Prompt Ideas
A - Aftercare
If you are in a committed relationship with Shane, he can be affectionate afterward. He'll toss you a rag to clean you up, or if he's in a particularly affectionate mood/made a big mess of you, he'll clean you up himself. He may rub you hips or anywhere he was a little rough, kiss bruises, praise you in your ear. He'll toss an arm around you lazily and hold you for a little while, buck naked, occasionally making little comments with that signature smirk.
B - Body parts
He's very confident in his body, and loves when you recognize how hot he is. He loves when you run your hand down his abs and chest, and he may grab your hand to direct it where he wants you to touch. He loves when you leave scratches on his biceps and back, run your hands through his hair, whatever.
His favorite part of your body is your ass or hips, depending on your physique. He loves to paw at both, especially when he wraps his arms around you in a hug and plants a firm smack on your ass.
C - Cum
Shane makes a big mess. He will cum anywhere on you that you allow him to, and make a big show of making a mess. He's basically marking his territory.
D - Dirty Secret
He's secretly putty in your hands when you stroke his cheek during missionary, caressing him softly, treating him like he's not just a killer. It catches him off guard, makes him slow down and start making love to you for a little while.
E - Experience
Very. He was a fuckboy before the world ended. Shane's been with plenty of women over the years, and he knows what he's doing.
F - Favorite Position
Doggy, 100%. He loves pawing at your ass, smacking it, muttering dirty nothings into your ear as he takes you from behind - to grab your hair and pin you down beneath his larger body...
G - Goofy
Not really, sometimes he'll chuckle or tease you but he's not necessarily goofy in bed.
H - Hair
Above the waist, he keeps himself neat. He'll shave his chest hair, keep his actual hair nice, but he doesn't care much to do anything with his pubes. He's a got a little toxic masculinity, so he thinks it's too girly/a waste of time to spend time trimming up his pubes.
I - Intimacy
He can be intimate in the bedroom, but it's not an all the time thing. When he is, he will shush you, hold you close, move slower, treat you softer... But times like this are not all that often.
J - Jack Off
He does not jack off. It was already extremely rare before you guys began sleeping together - but anytime that he feels in the mood enough to where he needs relief he will just let you know. He doesn’t have much time for it and would rather the real deal with you.
K - Kink
Oh he's a kinky sob. He's got a size kink, a dominance kink, daddy kink, a breeding kink, he's into ropes and cuffs and knife play, begging, choking, praising and also name-calling, cum-play, edging... There isn't much he's not open to trying.
L - Location
He can be a little experimental, as long as you have privacy. If he catches you alone in the house, he'll take you against a wall or piece of furniture. He's fucked you on the ground in the woods, in tents, in the RV, a car, the bathroom... He's really not ashamed to take you anywhere he wants, so long as it's safe.
M - Motivation
He's highly motivated to get you to cum, but maybe not as much as some others (like Daryl). He thinks it's a requirement for you to cum before him, at least once, and he likes to get you screaming his name.
N - NO
He's not experimental with things to him - he likes to be the one doing things to you. Another big no is he will never have a threesome, he doesn't share.
O - Oral
Shane lives for oral. He absolutely loves how pretty you look with your mouth around his cock. He would have you suck him off every day if he could. He loves to receive, and he also loves to give. Shane enjoys pinning you down, his strong arms wrapped tightly around your thighs and hips, holding you down while he makes you cum two or three times on his face...
P - Pace
He's definitely more of a fast and rough kind of guy. He switches it up sometimes, but it's usually his go-to.
Q - Quickie
Shane is definitely a quickie kind of guy. It's not his favorite, but he doesn't mind them at all. He finds it hot when you just can't keep your hands off each other and need a quick fuck. Time usually doesn't allow for you to spend hours alone together, anyway, so he's constantly dragging you behind something to fuck your brains out for ten minutes.
R - Risk
He is risky in the sense of he isn't overly careful about being caught, or getting you pregnant. He doesn't always wrap it, and he's constantly taking risks of getting caught... But he doesn't usually risk your safety. The times in the woods were early on, when the camp was pretty secure and tight on privacy, but most of the time he's very careful about not putting yourselves in the unnecessary danger.
S - Stamina
He's got a lot of stamina, more than most men. Not as much as some other men (Negan or Daryl), but more than most. He can easily go for an hour or more, depending on the mood.
T - Touch
He's a very physical man. He needs to be all up on you, grabbing you, caressing you, touching you in any way he can. In doggy, he likes to lean his chest down over you and mutter dirty nothings in your ear... Even when you're on top, he's got his hands all over you.
U - Unfair
He's a hypocrite, 100%. He wants to do all kinds of stuff to you that he would never let you do to him.
V - Volume/Voyeurism
He's not overly loud, but he grunts a lot, and is all about dirty talk. He's constantly talking, muttering in your ear, under his breath to himself... This man doesn't shut up.
He is not into voyeurism and would be pissed off if someone saw his girl naked... But at the same time, he isn't very careful about getting caught. He'd never be okay with someone watching, but he isn't overly cautious about having privacy or keeping your voices down. Like I said... hypocrite.
W - Wildcard
He's really skilled with his fingers... He loves to lean over you while he fingers you, slow and deep, leaving hickeys down your neck as he curls his fingers in just the right places, praising you in your ear, calling you his dirty little girl...
X - X-Ray
He's above average, with a good amount of girth. Packing, but not overboard.
Y - Yearning
Shane is constantly horny. He always wants you, he'd easily fuck you every night if he could.
Z - ZZZ’s
When time permits, he likes to fall asleep shortly after sex. He'll hold you lazily for like ten minutes, still nude, before eventually falling asleep with his other arm behind his head.
Daryl was very displeased that you tagged along for this little "meeting" with the Governor. He swore up and down: "Ya ain't comin!" But here you stood, leaning against the old green SUV you drove over in with Rick and Hershel rather than the motorcycle, since Daryl was pissed with you. Rick wanted Daryl and Hershel there, one for moral and logic, one for muscle. You were one of the best shooters and had become someone Rick trusted to be honest and logical, as well. He trusted you and Hershel to see both sides and help him make rational decisions.
Daryl, however, was not rational when he was emotional. As the car drove up at a fast speed, he had his bow aimed at the driver, his face scrunched in a focused frown. He took a few steps toward the truck, keeping his body positioned before you. He was anxious - scared even - with you being there. He imagined all the worst case scenarios in his head and all of them ended with you hurt or worse.
You kept your hand on the pistol holstered on your right hip, watching intently as two men and Andrea step out of the tan truck. You instantly get off vibes from the driver, a man with a buzzcut and attitude practically dripping off of him as he stares at Daryl, slamming the door closed behind himself. A nerdy, scrawny man with glasses and a far too formal outfit, gets out from the seat behind him, a frown on his face and no visible weapons on his person.
Andrea makes eye contact with you for a second, but says nothing before averting her gaze to Daryl.
"What the hell! Why's yer boy already in there?" Daryl calls out, not lowering his bow.
"He's here?" Andrea seems genuinely surprised, before heading straight inside. The man leans against the front of the truck, seeming very at ease, smirking at Daryl. You nudge his bicep, wordlessly telling his to chill out. His eyes dart to you, then back to the man, before finally lowering the bow.
No one talks for the first few minutes, waiting in uncomfortable silence. Eventually, Andrea returns, having been kicked out by the "Governor" and Rick. This pissed her off, but amused you.
"Maybe I should go in there?" Hershel says aloud to Daryl.
"The Governor thought it best if he speak to Rick alone," the nerdy guys speaks up.
"Who the hell are you?" Daryl retorted.
"Milton Mamet," he responds.
"Great. He brought his butler," Daryl snorts, and you bite your tongue to keeps from laughing aloud.
"I'm his advisor."
"What kind of advice?" Daryl shuffles around, still eyeing up both men.
"Planning. Biters. You know, I'm sorry I don't really feel like I need to explain myself to the henchmen." The attitude catches you off guard, making you flex your fingers laced on the gun tucked in your holster, but Daryl is unphased.
"Better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he drawls, squinting at the smaller man with a dangerous calm in his voice.
"Look, if you and I are gonna be out here pointing guns at each other all day, do me a favor - shut your mouth," the other guy retorts. Your fingers tighten on the gun in your holster, glaring at the smug man. Daryl doesn't hesitate a second before walking right up into the man's face, sizing him up, ready to shut him up real quick. You unstrap the holster and wrap your hand around the pistol, pulling it up just an inch, waiting for a signal from Daryl.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him. He's so sure of himself - and you know he can easily take this man on - but their egos could start a brand new fight, one between both communities, not just the men.
"Hey, we don't need this!" Hershel speaks up. "If all goes south in there, we'll be at each other's throats soon enough," he says, temporarily quelling the tension between the men.
The men exchange a look a moment longer before Daryl backs down, respecting Hershel - and more than that, prioritizing your safety by not starting something that doesn't have to happen.
A few more minutes pass by in tense silence. Daryl paces back and forth for a while before sort of settling beside you against the SUV.
You leaned on the car beside Daryl, keeping a couple of inches between the two of you, as you know how he feels about giving him space in front of others. You were thirsty, so you stood up, catching the attention of everyone from the sudden move. Clearly everyone was on edge in each other's presence.
"Relax. I need a drink," you announce, turning around and opening the driver door, bending in and leaning across the seat to grab the bottle of water on the passenger seat.
"Ay! Ya serious?" You snap back around in time to see Daryl tossing his arm angrily, glaring at the man you still did not know the name of.
"Keep yer fuckin eyes to yerself," Daryl growls. Oh. Had he looked at your ass when you leaned over?
You feels your cheeks heat up, enjoying that Daryl stood up for you but also a little embarrassed. The man throws his hands up in defense sarcastically, still grinning cockily as he leaned on the hood. Tugging at the bottom of your shorts, you glance up at Daryl as he watches you, standing up straight, his fingers stiff on the trigger of his loaded bow, ready to defend you at a moment's notice.
Andrea rolls her eyes. "Really?" she huffs.
You and her had never gotten along, she got on your last nerve, and the feeling was definitely mutual. Daryl leans on the car again, making eye contact with you and Hershel for a brief moment before huffing and fiddling with his crossbow.
Another moment passes in awkward silence before Andrea speaks again. "So you two?" she asks, motioning her head toward you and Daryl.
You look at him for a brief moment, seeing him chewing on his bottom lip, glancing over at you from where he stood and making an annoyed sound of acknowledgement. She snorts but says nothing else.
"Well... There's no reason not to use this time we have together to... explore the issues ourselves," Milton approaches Hershel hesitantly, a small book in hand.
"I say we sit tight and shut up," says the other man.
"And no one cares what you have to say," you grumble, not necessarily speaking to him, just aloud, but both he and Daryl look at you all the same.
"What'd you say?" he starts, and you stand up a little straighter, about to fire back before Daryl interrupts.
"Whatchu, the governor?" Daryl rasps sarcastically. The man and him exchange another dirty look, the tension in the air thick.
"I mean it's a good thing, that they're sitting down... Especially after what happened," Milton tries again. "They're gonna work it out, nobody wants another battle."
"Wouldn't exactly call it a battle," Daryl scoffs, a twinge of amusement displaying on his face from the smaller man's word choice.
"I would call it a battle. And I did," he holds up the little book in his hand. "I recorded it."
"For what?" Daryl grumbles, shifting his weight, his hand gripping his bow slung over his shoulder, standing beside you.
"Somebody's got to keep a record of what we've gone through... It'll be a part of our history."
"That makes sense," Hershel finally speaks up, seeming to like the nerdy guy's idea. Milton takes this as encouragement to continue.
"I've got... dozens of interviews-"
"Didn't I say shut up?" the other guy grumbles.
"Hey, chill," you say, having had enough of the attitude.
"That goes for you too, sweetheart. Why don't we all just shut the hell up and wait for our damn orders," he says. Daryl stiffens beside you and takes a step forward, but you put your arm out to stop him from approaching the other guy.
"The hell'd ya just say?" he growls.
"Daryl," Hershel warns, but he's not listening.
"Hey, he's not worth it," you mutter, waiting for his gaze to drop to yours. When it does, it softens, and he nods ever so slightly.
"Damn, Y/N, really got Dixon wrapped around your little finger," Andrea calls out, amused. You glare at her and let out a huff.
"Can we all stop trying to get under each other's skin? Seriously? Act like some fucking adults," you grumble, suddenly anxious to get back home to the prison.
A familiar growl of walkers approaching gets everyone's attention, making Milton shrivel away to the side of the truck, whereas the rest of you grab your weapons.
Daryl takes the lead, with the other guy and Andrea following close behind. You watch Daryl's back, uneasy about this guy behind him.
He spots only two walkers, so he lowers his crossbow and makes a motion to him swinging his arm. "After you," he drawls.
"No hey, you first," he aims his bat toward the walkers. Andrea rolls her eyes and shoves between the two men, hollering and dramatically stabbing the first walker in the head.
"Pussy," the guy insults Daryl, making a face toward you before turning and swinging his bat dramatically a few times, smashing a walker's head in one violent swing, turning to grin widely, winking at you.
Daryl's jaw tightens and he shoves past as the next walker comes around the corner, easily shooting the walker directly between the eyes. The guy does another move with his bat before smashing that walker's head in, and by this point, Andrea has lost interest and heads back. You continue to trail behind, watching Daryl's back, letting him take the lead in this situation.
The Governor's guy approaches the next walker, but just as he raises his bat to smash their head, Daryl shoots an arrow through that walker in the head from behind him. The man moves toward the final walker, but Daryl has already unsheathed his large dagger. He holds it skillfully in his hand before throwing it from at least ten yards away, whizzing past his head and directly into the skull of the remaining walker, stealing the kill.
The man looks between the two of you, trying to mask his astonishment and the fact that he's actually kind of impressed with Daryl. You grin at your man before turning around and heading back, allowing him to trail behind you, feeling Daryl's eyes burning a whole into your back.
The rest of the remaining handful of minutes are passed in silence. After what felt like an eternity - but was probably only about twenty minutes - the door finally slides open and everyone shoots up, back on guard.
The Governor strides out confidently, not looking at anyone or speaking a word before he opens the door to their truck and gets in, turning it on immediately. Rick follows closely behind, also wordlessly approaching the driver seat of your car, but keeping an eye on the Governor as he does so.
Daryl watches the others closely as he sits down on his motorcycle, giving you a look that practically says 'cmere.' You walk around cautiously and throw your leg over the back as he revs the engine to life.
Andrea stands in between both cars, looking between both leaders, seeming unsure of herself before finally walking back to their truck and climbing into the passenger seat.
You wrap your arms around Daryl's torso as he kicks the stand up and starts moving, he and the Governor make intense eye contact as he drives by their truck leading the way of Rick and Hershel.
Their truck drives off in the opposite direction and you feel the tension and thickness of their air finally fade away. Daryl gives your thigh a quick squeeze before replacing his hand back on the bike, and you place a soft kiss in the crook of his neck, allowing the breeze in your hair and the scent of Daryl to calm your anxieties.
The large banquet room was dimly lit, casting shadows and dark corners, perfect for Daryl to stand in and avoid the crowd. He scoffed aloud at the ridiculousness of the 'ball' that Pamela was hosting. The dead walked just outside the walls, and here people were drinking champagne and engaging in old world politics.
You, on the other hand, saw the benefit of this sort of thing. The exclusivity bothered you, but you could see why the Commonwealth was trying to preserve some of the old world.
The only reason you were even invited to thing 'ball' was because you 'worked' for the local newspaper, similarly to Connie. She was on the job, but you were more so expected to catch the gossip and make the Commonwealth sound great, whereas Connie was interviewing different people and trying to get the real information. Daryl was allowed in because he was a Commonwealth soldier, expected to go wherever he was told, and Mercer demanded that he be here as backup. He was allowed to dress in regular clothes, as to blend in, like many of the other soldiers who were, for all intents and purposes, undercover, in case anything went south.
You had felt his eyes on you throughout the night, but whenever you looked his direction, he turned away, pretending like he hadn't been watching you. You knew the archer better than that, though. Your relationship wasn't exactly established, but it was no less meaningful. The two of you had been through so much over the years, and up until recently, there was never any time to explore the chemistry between you.
Behind the safety of the Commonwealth walls, though, you began pressing him more than you normally had. Standing closer, lingering touches, longing looks, teasing comments... You were treading slowly, but you wanted Daryl to know - without any doubt - how you felt about him.
"Hey, you," a shy smile toys at your lips as you approach your favorite person. His well defined arms are crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall, half of his face shadowed by the low light and his loose strands of hair drooping in the way.
"Mm," he acknowledges you, glancing your way before returning his gaze straight ahead, taking in the scene around him.
"Hiding over here?" you tease, turning to lean against the wall by his side. Daryl turns his gaze back to you, shooting you a look before his eyes dropped down to your body, looking at your dress. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as he quickly takes you in. The simple, knee length black dress hugged your body in all the right places, but wasn't overdoing it.
Daryl's eyes are back on yours as quickly as they had left them, but you had seen him looking you over.
"Not hidin'," he grumbles.
"Sure," you tease, looking out at the groups of people mingling. "This is weird," you comment, referring to the dance.
"Very," he agrees. " S'stupid."
"Maybe, but it's kind of nice too,"
He looks over at you like you have three heads, scoffing.
"'Course ya think so," he mutters.
"What? It's nice to have some things from the old world," you shrug.
"If ya say so," he grumbles, clearly not agreeing.
The pianist start to play a slow beat, and couples fall together. You actually recognize the song, one that you used to like before the world ended.
"Oh my God," he rolls his eyes and shuffles awkwardly beside you.
"Aw," you mumble, finding it nice to see people feel safe enough to dance together. "I know this song," you mumble, sadness filling your heart as you remember singing it in your car so many years ago.
"Really?" he asks, seemingly surprised.
"Yeah, it's a good one," you tell him, and he looks at you with an unreadable expression, the way Daryl usually does when he's really listening.
You feel the invisible force pulling you to Daryl, as you have so many times before, and glance up at him hesitantly. He catches your eye, and spots the light blush on your cheeks.
I'm jealous of the rain
"Wha'?" he asks, and your eyes drop from his to his hands, which are toying with his black cargo pants pockets. His thumbs are inside of the pockets, with the rest of his thick fingers still visible.
You wonder what it would feel like to interlock your fingers with his. It was a thought that had crossed your mind many times before, more than you'd ever admit to. How they'd feel in your hair, on your hips, your face... other places...
That falls upon your skin
Your lip stings where you bit it unconsciously, bringing you back to reality, where Daryl is studying you.
"You gonna ask me to dance, Dixon?" you tease, grinning up at the taller man. His eyes widen slightly, taken aback by your forward request. He looks at you for a long moment, probably only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity in his intense gaze.
Then Daryl scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.
"Yeah, okay," he responds sarcastically, brushing you off like you couldn't possibly be serious.
"What? You can slay walkers and people but you can't dance with a girl?" you tease, bumping his bicep with your own, trying to keep the teasing light, but also pushing your luck, seeing if you could actually somehow get this man to dance with you. You're sure Daryl would rather cut off his fingers than to dance, but you just had to try. When would the opportunity ever present itself again?
"Yup," is all he says, shuffling in his boots.
"Ugh, you suck. You're gonna make me go find some poor guy to force to dance with me?" you ask. Daryl's eyes lift from where he was studying his boots, meeting yours with an icy intensity.
He didn't like that.
"What? You won't dance with me but I can't dance with someone else?" you ask, and he actually makes a sound in agreement.
"Can't dance," is all he says, catching you off guard. You expected him to say how stupid it was, or make some other rude comment - not that. Does that mean he wants to? That he would oblige?
"Neither do I," you shrug.
He snorts in amusement. "Ya wanna dance but ya don' even know how?"
"Well, slow dancing is easy, Daryl. You just sway. Look."
He looks around, seeing the other couples. Most were just swaying in place, not even moving much. Then he looks back at you, studying you for a long moment as you look at the other couples, almost longingly.
It's closer than my hands have been
Oh I'm jealous of the rain
With a huff, Daryl stands up straight, and before he can think too much about it, offers his hand.
You are caught off guard, looking between his extended palm and his face.
"Really? I was teasing you, I didn't expect you to agree..."
"C'mon, woman, 'fore I change my mind," he grumbles softly, seemingly embarrassed.
You hesitantly place your smaller hand into Daryl's palm. He stands there for a moment, looking at your hand in his, seemingly a little unsure what to do - then his feet start moving and guiding you out a few paces. Not far from the wall, on the very outskirts of the crowd, keeping plenty of distance from the others.
Daryl stops, turning to face you, very unsure of himself. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you take him in. You hesitantly twist your hand in his, turning it so you can hold it more properly, then take a step closer to him, invading his bubble. He chews on his bottom lip, letting you get him into position, his blue eyes watching your every move.
Reaching your left hand up, you place it on his right shoulder, gently, almost like you were afraid he would recoil if you moved too fast. There's still plenty of space between the two of you, but you're afraid of moving too fast. You watch as Daryl's right hand comes to rest at your waist, very hesitantly, kind of moving in slow motion.
You have never been this close together unless you were fighting off the dead, or one of you was hurt... Sure, you'd sat together plenty of times, your knees or arms have brushed... But this was different. You were pretty sure Daryl Dixon had never danced with a woman before in his life.
You take one more hesitant step toward him, then sway a little to the left, finding the beat. "See?" you smile lightly, looking up to catch his eye. He tears his eyes from your hand in his, meeting your gaze, but says nothing.
You hum under your breath, quietly, the words coming back to you. There is a woman singing her own version of the song, a very slowed down version of the way you remember it, but you like it.
I'm jealous of the wind
That ripples through your clothes
You never in a million years would have expected that you'd be able to get Daryl to dance with you. If Carol could see you... She'd be grinning from ear to ear.
There's a burning heat inside of you as you sway with Daryl. You feel small in his arms, like he is your personal protector, your person. His fingers wrapped around your hand feel warm and safe. It's a funny thought - Daryl is probably one of the most dangerous people in this room (and in most rooms), yet you feel the most safe in his arms.
It's closer than your shadow
Oh I'm jealous of the wind
You glance down from his blue eyes to his pink lips. His expression is hard to read, but he doesn't look like he's searching for an escape route. He's looking back at you, studying you the same way that you are him. His feet move slowly, unsurely, but following your pace. You barely move, it's really less of dancing and more of swaying in one place - but it's perfect. His fingers tighten ever so slightly on your waist, just above your hip bone, where your body curves - holding you a little more securely, more certain.
"Words are weird," he mutters, and you chuckle softly.
"They're sweet," you counter.
"'I'm jealous of the wind?'" he quotes the lyrics the woman just sang, raising a skeptical brow, and you chuckle again.
"It's about longing to be near the person you love," you explain. "The rain that falls on their skin, the skin that you can't touch. Not actually jealous of the rain or wind, just that they can't touch them, or be with them..." you explain, not meeting his eye, instead looking over at the woman as she sang.
When you look back, Daryl is watching you. He studies you, taking you in, paying attention to you.
"Sounds like ya can relate," he drawls. "T' the song."
With a slight gulp, you shift your hand on his shoulder nervously.
"I can," is all you say. Daryl doesn't respond, and he doesn't take his eyes off you, either. There's an understanding in his eyes, like something has clicked,
I'm jealous of the nights
That I don't spend with you
I'm wondering who you lay next to
Oh, I'm jealous of the nights
Daryl catches you off guard by pulling you closer, shifting the way he was holding you so that your chests are nearly touching, and his right hand is fully grasping your waist, securely, tightly. You look up into his eyes, finding an expression that you don't recognize. He says nothing, but his hands speak louder than words.
"Me too," he mutters lowly, so quiet that you almost didn't hear him.
His left hand moves so that it is resting against his chest, near his heart, still cupping yours. His warmth radiates off of him onto your own body. You can smell the woodsy smell on his clothes, a mixture of trees, fire and cigarettes - a smell that you have come to recognize as Daryl. The combination of his touch and smell is dizzying your senses, hypnotizing. You adjust your hand on his shoulder to lower it, allowing it to drag down his chest, agonizingly slow, memorizing it.
Even with his black button down in the way, you can feel the hard muscle beneath your hand, which moves slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until it is resting slightly above his pec, the tips of your fingers splayed across the bottom part of his shoulder, palm over his upper chest. You can see some of the exposed skin behind the one single button left undone, the tiniest bit of chest hair showing and part of his collar bone.
The thought of resting your head on his chest crosses your mind, but you find the urge, not wanting to push him too far. His right hand moves as you take another swaying step, shifts to the middle of your back, making it so his arm is loosely wrapped around your frame. Being this close to Daryl makes your head spin, and you try to take in the moment as best as you can - memorizing his touch, how gentle he is being, the comfortable but charged silence between the two of you.
Wordlessly, you look up from his chest, meeting his eyes. His gaze shifts from your hand on his chest to your eyes, and suddenly your faces are very close. You can smell the cigarette and whiskey on his breath, sees the lines in his lips, the small scars littered across his face. His eyes drop from yours to yours lips, making your heart beat so loud in your chest that you think he must be able to hear it.
He chews on his bottom lip, his nervousness getting the better of him and he leans back, just an inch or so, putting a little space between your faces, but not letting go of you even a little. He'd never admit it, but he was loving every moment of this - he never wanted to let go of you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Everything was dark, almost pitch black. You couldn't see much of your surroundings besides the silhouettes of trees and the distant red car lights ahead down the road.
Daryl drove on, barely going ten miles an hour, one hand splayed on the wheel as he chewed on the thumb of his other hand, watching intently. You, on the other hand, were watching Daryl.
"Wha'?" he finally says when he feels you continuously staring at him. You turn away, your cheeks warming as you lean your head against the window and try to think about anything else other than how Daryl's muscles look as they are flexed on the wheel while he drives.
"Nothin," you mutter as a halfassed response.
"Ya stare a lot," he mumbles, not as an insult but as an observation.
You bite your cheek, looking back at him once again, taking in how his jaw flexes, how it is so defined and the stubble across it compliments his facial features so perfectly...
"Just at you," you tease, chuckling when he shoots his head over at you in surprise. He shoots you a lot, a silent "stop," but you catch the way the corner of his mouth raises in amusement. He's used to your teasing and flirting, you do it all the time. Sometimes he returns it, most of the time he pretends it annoys him.
It doesn't.
"You think she'll be okay?" you ask after a few more minutes pass in silence, tailing the black sedan from a distance. Daryl hadn't said much about his time with Beth after the prison fell, but you can tell that he grew to care about her. You can't help the tinge of jealousy that you felt toward the younger girl.
You knew that Daryl didn't feel that way toward her, and she likely didn't either. Still, he was alone with her for a few days. They bonded, and he jumped at the first chance he saw to rescue her.
It was admirable and you had no reason to be jealous... But the feeling was still there.
"Hope so," is all he says. You don't respond, trying not to let your mind wander to worst case scenario.
---
Eventually, the car ran out of gas and it was too dark and dangerous to attempt to follow the car on foot. So you and Daryl headed for the first tall building you could find to hold up for the night before searching the city at first light.
You watched Daryl's back as he attempted to force open the barricaded door, and followed closely as he lead the way through. You guys climbed a few staircases before coming across a door with a sign that read "Temporary Housing."
"Probably have beds," Daryl says aloud, and you nod in response, though his back is to you. You guys quickly search the rooms, barricading off the main hallway and front door with some desks, then take a look around.
Daryl shines his flashlight on some random spots, looking for anything useful. You trail behind him doing the same, though tiredness was creeping in and Daryl's arms reflecting in the moonlight in his vest was a very distracting sight.
"I can feel ya starin' again," he drawls without turning around, picking up a book.
"Surviving Childhood Abuse," you read around his bicep, your chin touching it. "Must be a place for people trying to escape abuse," you comment. He hums in response, and you feel a ting of sadness for him, being reminded of his own childhood, and the scars on his back that you had seen once or twice.
"C'mon," he continues down the hall and opens a door, revealing a small makeshift bedroom. There's a small bed, definitely no bigger than a full size, and a desk with a crappy chair.
"This'll do for the night."
You remove your backpack from over your shoulder and place it down on the desk, and Daryl follows suit. He closes the door behind you guys and locks it. The click makes your heart skip a beat in your chest, and you look over at him in the dark. The moon lights the room up enough to see each other clearly through the large window. You have to be at least six stories up, and can see a lot of the city from this high.
Daryl takes a seat on the bed with a loud and ungraceful plop, and that is when you notice: there's only one bed.
One much too small bed up against a wall.
How was this going to work? It isn't even a big bed where you could possibly both be in it without invading each other's personal space (not that you'd mind).
You clear your throat nervously and shuffle your feet.
"Wha'?" he asks.
"I can go find another empty room," you start. Daryl looks around him, picking up on the fact that the bed being small was causing you discomfort.
"Nah, no way," he starts. "I'll take the floor, if that makes ya more comfortable."
"No, no. You're definitely not sleeping on this hard ass floor," you object. "I don't care I just... don't wanna make you feel weird, is all," you attempt to explain, blushing.
Daryl looks at you for a long moment, pondering.
"So ya do all that flirtin' and yer too scared t' share a bed with me?" he asks, his words seeming teasing but his face serious.
Your blush deepens and you look out the window, unsure how to respond.
"Look I don't mind Daryl. I'll sleep on top of you if you want me to but you're the one who gets... I don't wanna scare you off," you stumble over finding the right words. He can see how nervous you are, worried about saying or doing the wrong thing. The thought of you on top of him makes his chest tight and his head fuzzy, so he tries to ignore that part of what you said.
"I'll take first watch," you offer before he can respond.
"Nah, place is locked up pretty tight," he starts, watching you fight back a yawn. "C'mon," he says. Your eyes widen as he scooches over, making space in the bed for you. You hesitantly walk over, gently taking a seat beside him. Daryl leans his elbows on his knees and runs his hands over his face and through his hair, clearly exhausted. He rests his head in his hand, turning to look over at you.
"Ya look so...awkward," he chuckles.
"You bring that out of me," you tease, trying to lighten the mood.
Daryl snorts in amusement. "There she is," he comments, referring to your constant flirting and teasing.
You smile and relax a little, leaning backward on your hands. Daryl tries to fight the impure thoughts crossing his mind as he sits beside you in the bed.
"Ima move this," he suddenly states, getting up and moving to the other side of the desk, beginning to push it to the door. You sit up to help, but he's already halfway there by that point.
You look anywhere but his flexing muscles as he pushes the desk. He dramatically plops into the bed beside you on his back, bringing his bare arms to rest behind his head. You gulp and wonder if he is doing this intentionally.
"Sure ya don't want me on the floor?" he asks from beside you. You shoot him a look and he raises his hands in surrender. "Yer stiff as a log over there," he comments. "I won't bite."
You give him a big shit eating grin before saying: "What if I want you to?" You get another snort in amusement before he sits up, reaching down to unlace his boots.
"I'll sleep on the outside, just in case." Such a gentleman.
You kick your shoes off before scooching your butt backward and laying down on the inside of the bed against the wall. Daryl turns and lays down beside you with a huff. The bed is definitely too small for two grown adults, especially this man who was all muscle.
Still, he attempts to keep from crowding your space too much. You get under the thin crappy sheet and shuffle into a somewhat comfortable position on your back, and Daryl does the same.
It's quiet for a few minutes. Neither of you really know what to say, or if you need to say anything. Your heart is beating so loud in your chest you swear Daryl could probably hear it.
"Why don't ya say what's on yer mind?" he finally says.
"Whaddya mean?"
"Ya wanna say somethin, jus' say it."
You think about it, the thoughts just waiting to blurt out but you don't want to ruin this.
"Was just thinking about you... and Beth," you respond, trying to be vague.
"Wha' abou' us?" he responds. You don't like the way he says "us:" it makes something inside of you sting a little, like it had a deeper meaning.
"Nothing just... wondering if maybe... the time you spent with her... maybe you started to have feelings for her, or something," you ramble nervously, focusing on the ceiling above you.
Daryl doesn't respond for a long moment, studying you, pondering - and you worry about what he will eventually say.
"Nah," is all he says at first when he finally does speak. One word, simple, but you're not sure if you believe him. "Not her."
You turn your head and look over at him, seeing that he is already looking at you. He has a soft expression, one you haven't seen too many times.
"Not her?" you ask, pushing just a little further. Daryl continues to look at you for another long moment, studying you with an unreadable expression.
"Yeah, not 'er," is all he says, chewing on his bottom lip and growing visibly uncomfortable. "Should get some sleep." His deep, tired voice sends shivers down your spine, and you can't bring yourself to respond even if you wanted to. You turn away, looking back up at the ceiling, pondering his words. Did he just tell you he had feelings for you?
You spent the next five or ten minutes attempting to get warm and comfy under the thin blanket, your mind racing as you shuffled over and over. You tried not to, knowing it was disturbing Daryl, but he didn't say anything.
Rubbing your hands over your bare arms, trying to generate some more heat. "Ya cold?" Daryl asks when he peeks an eye open and sees you. You try to play it cool but it's obvious.
Daryl raises his head and looks around the room, but spots no more blankets. "A'ight, c'mere," he says, moving his right arm over toward your side. He's unable to stretch it out fully because of the limited space, but he is inviting you to move into his arm. You hesitate for just a quick moment, completely caught off guard.
"C'mon, I'll keep ya warm," he drawls. With a nervous gulp, you scooch over and lift your head so that he can stretch his arm out, and you lay yourself in the crook of his arm, right on his bicep.
Immediately you feel warmer, though that has nothing to do with the warmth Daryl emitted and everything to do with the fact that it was him.
"You're comfy," you tease him quietly, leaning your head further into his arm and chest, turning onto your side. He smells good, like the outdoors, a hint of leather, and smoke. Like Daryl.
He does that cute snort laugh thing that he does and doesn't respond, but wraps his arm a little tighter around your shoulder.
"You smell good too," you continue to tease, placing a hand on his chest hesitantly. You feel vibrations from him chuckling under his breath.
"Ya talk too much," he taunts.
"You don't talk enough," you throw right back, earning another short chuckle.
"Sleep," he drawls into your hair above you. You shiver again, though this time not from being cold. Still, he wraps his hand around your bare shoulder and rubs it lightly with his calloused fingers.
-
Eventually, sleep overcame you, and you woke with the sun in the early morning, still in Daryl's arms. You were fully hugging his torso now, with his arm securely around your shoulder and his face resting in your hair. You can't help the giant grin that spreads across your face, which you move into his chest further, taking the moment in.
"Mm," he groans as he starts to wake. "Anyone ever told ya you move a lot in yer sleep?" he asks, releasing his grip on you a little but not making any attempt to move away from you. He trails his fingers lightly up and down your skin.
"But I give good cuddles," you tease tiredly. He hums in response, seemingly agreeing. You turn your head to look up at him, meeting his intense blue eyes. Your faces are barely inches apart, and you spot his eyes as they drop to your lips, before snapping back up to your eyes.
"Mm," is all he says, but it's enough. It's more than enough. Your eyes trail down his features to his thin pink lips. You so badly want to lean in and kiss him, but your body won't allow you to move in fear that he would reject you. You don't actually think he would, not anymore, not after the night you shared. Still, you miss the opportunity.
"C'mon, gotta get a move on," Daryl starts sitting up, and you move away so that he can stand.
You guys get your stuff together in silence, snacking on some stale chips quickly before heading out of the building and scoping out the streets for a car. After trying two, Daryl is finally able to hotwire one that actually has some gas in it, and you guys begin scouring the streets for signs of the car from last night.
Your eyes kept wandering back to Daryl, though, and you even felt his intense gaze on you a few times, a shy smile creeping up your face as you tried to stay focused on your mission. But everything had changed...
Prompt: The pent up tension finally becomes too much
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: Flufffffffff
Advent Calendar Day 1!
Masterlist
Etsy Shop! | Commissions | Requests | Coming Soon
Daryl couldn't help but keep glancing over at you. Trying not to get caught, but just unable to control himself. Your hair was flowing lightly in the brisk winter air, your eyes shining brightly in the intense sunlight reflecting off the snow-covered ground. Your smile was wide like a child on Christmas morning as you took in your surroundings.
You and Daryl had just stepped outside into the winter snow, still early in the morning, the sun only having risen recently. There was nobody else outside in this part of Alexandria, most of them still sleeping or getting ready for the day. Daryl had work to do on the fence and you offered to help out, having nothing planned to do until later in the day and secretly just using it as an excuse to be alone with him.
The moment you guys had opened the door to the house, you gasped aloud. You had seen the snow from the window as you were getting bundled up, but actually stepping outside into it was totally different. It had been more than two years since you had seen snow, let alone inches of it.
Daryl watched as you stepped out ahead of him, immediately reaching down on the porch to touch it, turning back to grin at him. He snorted in amusement, but his heart was fluttering in his chest. Seeing you so excited and happy made him feel so... warm. There wasn't a word to describe the way he was feeling as he watched you. The snow squelched under your shoes as you inched further out, pulling your coat tighter around yourself.
You pick up a handful of snow and squish it into a small snowball in your hand before turning and facing Daryl with a devilish look in your eye. He cocks a silent brow at you, shaking his head once to object.
"We should build up a bunch of snowballs and throw them at people as they walk by!" you exclaim. Daryl deadpans you, internally laughing at your childishness.
"Yer a child," Daryl comments, but he isn't annoyed- far from it.
Suddenly, you slip on some snow and fall right onto your butt. Daryl lets out an obnoxious short laugh and your face turns bright red in embarrassment.
"Hey, don't make me drag you down with me," you threaten as you struggle to try to get back up.
He reaches his hand out and you hurriedly accept it, placing your gloved hand into his large one. Despite the cloth barrier between your hands, shivers shoot through your hand in his, thrilled to be hold it. He yanks you up with ease, but you lose your footing and basically fall into his chest.
Daryl catches you by your biceps, steadying you on your feet.
"Thanks," you groan in embarrassment, before looking up and meeting his eye. Your faces are less than 6 inches apart, close enough for you to feel his warm breath in the brisk air, and smell him. You suddenly gulp, having never been this up close and intimate with your favorite person yet.
Instinctively, your eyes move without your permission and drop to his lips. They are more pink in the cold winter air, and you press your lips together subconsciously, before raising your eyes back to his. He is staring down at you with an intensity you haven't seen before. You swear you've seen all of Daryl's expressions, he was a very silently expressive man. But his gaze was unfamiliar.
He looks intense, but not angry.
It is taking everything in Daryl not to kiss you. He's never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life. He'd wanted to kiss you tons of times, practically every time he was close to you. But now, with the snow in your hair, you looking at his lips, close enough to smell, his hands on your arms... You felt like a magnet to him.
When he saw your gaze drop to his lips, pressing your own together, he knew you wanted to kiss him too. He was very good at reading people, and he knew you had feelings for him too. Neither of you had acted on them much, but he knew that you returned his affections. He wasn't sure to what degree, insecure and unsure - how could someone as perfect as you want him back?
Daryl glanced up from your eyes and spotted a spec of a leaf in your hair, and instinctively reached out to get it. He plucked it out of your hair, allowing his two fingers to touch your soft locks, grazing your cheekbone slightly.
You leaned into his touch, your eyelids fluttering closed momentarily, and Daryl's restraint broke. You saw him lean in, and your heart skipped in your chest.
You tilted your head up, inviting him - willing him - and so Daryl did. He'd been fighting the urge for months now, he just couldn't do it anymore. Not when you were so willing. When you were practically begging him to.
He closed the space between you, quick but softly. His lips brushed against yours, hesitantly, barely grazing them before backing up just a hair. The tip of his nose brushing against yours, waiting. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but you understood the archer's silent language. He was hesitating. Worried about your reaction.
(Little did this man know, it was taking everything in you to not throw him against the side of the house and rip his clothes off).
You tilted your head to the right just a bit, brushing your nose against his again, willing him.
Only about five seconds had passed, but your self control was draining with each millisecond, and when the archer didn't back away, you couldn't take it anymore. You closed the space between your mouths and pressed your cold lips to his once again, but without moving away like he did.
You didn't move at first, testing the waters. But then you felt it - Daryl reciprocated. His lips pressed harder into yours, though still softly. You brought your hand up and ran your fingers up his left arm gently, feeling the scratchy fabric and hard muscles beneath the sweater.
You separated to breathe, foreheads resting against one another, before Daryl reignited the kiss. This time, he reached out and grabbed your face, cupping your neck in his right hand, his half-gloved hand electric on your skin. You move in closer and press your body into his, leaning up and wrapping one arm around his neck loosely, trying not to come on too strong but wanting him so bad.
The kiss is soft, but needy. Months - hell, years - of pent up tension finally being released in one nervous, messy kiss. His exposed fingers brush the skin on your neck and his other hand comes to rest on your hip, grabbing on like he was afraid you'd slip away.
You couldn't help but let out a whimper into his mouth, bringing your other hand up and wrapping both arms around his neck securely, deepening the kiss.
He's caught off guard by your sound and almost pulls away to make sure you were okay - until you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. He realized that he was doing this to you. Making you fall apart in his arms, just from a kiss.
Both of you were hanging onto your self control by a thread, equally wanting to go inside and ravish each other, but both too scared to.
"Oh, shit, um... Sorry," you jump and release Daryl in an instant, having been startled by the sudden interruption. It's Rick, standing at the bottom of the stairs, scratching the back of his neck and chuckling nervously. "I'll uh, just meet ya over at the fence, then," he smirks. "No rush."
Your face burns bright with embarrassment, and you hesitantly make eye contact with Daryl. He is equally as awkward, his hair falling into his face, lips swollen. He shuffles awkwardly, unsure what to say or do.
"Uh... We should probably," you start, motioning a hand toward the direction Rick started to. Daryl nods, chewing on his thumb before readjusting his poncho and motioning a hand for you to go first. You smile shyly and start down the stairs, Daryl following beside you.
The walk is silent besides your footsteps crunching in the fresh snow, though not awkward. As you walk, you feel Daryl's hand bump against yours here and there, fingers brushing against yours, and you catch him trying to hide his grin.
Request: "Hii! I hope I'm not late to the party and you're still taking requests? 🤗 If yes, how about Reader just being so in love with Daryl's physique and look? Like... His bulky frame, the dad-bod, etc. 🤗 I hope that makes sense. 🤗 Thank you!"
Setting: Alexandria, season 5
A/N: Ah I love this! and it's perfect because I already had an idea very similar to this!! Thanks for your request! <3
Masterlist
Etsy Shop! | Commissions | Requests | Coming Soon
Watching Daryl work on cars or his motorcycle was like porn to you. Literally. You could sit there and watch him all day. And in fact, you made it a point to do exactly that, whenever possible. You'd become his little helper - handing him tools, shining a flashlight, pretending to be valuable. Really, it was just to be near him.
Spend alone time with him. Watch him while he worked. The way the sweat dripped down his bare biceps. The motor oil smeared on each curve of his arm. How his jaw flexed as he concentrated.
"Hand me tha' ratchet, will ya?" Daryl's voice snaps you out of your daze. You scan the tools spread out by your feet, searching for a 'ratchet,' which was useless because you had no idea what that was. So instead you use process of elimination, picking up a tool that you don't know the name of that looked like it may be somewhat useful.
Walking over to Daryl's side and placing the tool in his outstretched hand, only for him to look up at you, one eye squinted, and make a face that said 'really?'
"Not a ratchet?" you ask with an embarrassed smile.
"Nah, not even close," he responds, standing from where he had been crouched beside the bike that Aaron gifted him.
"Oops," you shrug, paying attention as he grabs the correct tool and rolls his eyes at you.
"With how often ya watch me, I'd figure ya'd know wha' some o' the tools are by now," he remarks, bending down to continue on the bike. You were only half listening, watching as he spread his legs into a squatting position, reaching under the bike, his biceps flexing once more.
"Hey, I'm learning... Slowly." He lets out a snort in amusement but said nothing.
"Don't got nothin' better t' do than hand me the wrong tools?" he asks without turning around. You know he's just teasing you, so you don't take offense to his comment.
"Nope, I could do this all day, Dixon," you joke. He looks over his shoulder again, a brow raised. Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth, eyes completely honed in on his muscles shining in the sunlight.
"The hell ya lookin' at?" he asks, standing upright, removing his rag from his back pocket and wiping his greasy hands on it. Your eyes shoot up to his own and a blush creeps across your cheeks in embarrassment.
"Your biceps," you respond with a casual shrug. Daryl is caught off guard by your forwardness, making a face.
"Why?" he asks in his southern accent.
"What do you mean 'why?' What kinda question is that?" you ask in astonishment, taking a step closer to your boyfriend.
"Ion know," is all he says, getting a little shy by your flirting.
"Why do men look at women's asses? It's the same thing," you reach out and touch his bicep, cautiously, gently. He looks between your hand and your face.
"Not the same," he grumbles lowly.
"It is," you smile. "Don't you ever look at my ass?" you tease. Daryl shrugs and focuses hard on his hands, toying with the dirty rag.
"Yeah," he mumbles, his hair in his face.
"Well, there ya have it," you let go of the poor guy's muscle, not wanting to embarrass him too much. "Why do you think I always wanna hang around you while you work on this? It's like live porn," you joke. Daryl shuffles his weight and squints at you like you're crazy.
"The hell?" he asks, chuckling. "Yer crazy, woman."
"It's true!" you tease as he bends down and grabs a tool. "If you did it shirtless I think my ovaries would combust," you continue to tease the poor archer. He looks at you in astonishment before completely ignoring you and turning his attention back to the bike.
"Go bother Rick or somethin," he drawls.
"Nah I'd rather stay here and bother you," you take a seat on the porch step once more. "I should wash your bike for you. Return the favor, ya know?" you ramble. "I can do it in my bra and shorts, too. Make it real sexy."
Of course, you weren't paying attention and didn't see Abraham and Eugene approaching, stopping in their tracks a few feet off to the left.
"Shit I'd like to see that," Abraham says, a smirk plastered on the redhead's face. Daryl shoots a glare at the tall man before turning his glare toward you, like you just got in trouble. You raise your hands in surrender and blush lightly.
"Abraham, don't girls find biceps super sexy?" you drag him into your debate.
"Uh, I would assume so, yeah," he responds, glancing down at his own large exposed muscles. Eugene is watching everything unfold silently, looking stiff and awkward. Daryl, on the other hand, is glaring intently, still squatting beside his new bike.
"Daryl thinks I'm crazy for checking him out," you inform Abraham, who looks over at him.
"Forget it," Daryl grumbles, standing up and beginning to gather up his tools. Abraham chuckles.
"I don't think that's it, Y/N," is all he says.
"I'm sorry I think you're hot!" you tease Daryl as he physically drags you up the porch steps into the house.
"Really?" he glares in fake annoyance after he slams the door closed with a kick of his boot. You giggle.
"You're cute when you're mad," you continue the teasing, approaching the taller man.
"Yer so annoyin'," he groans, but reaches out and grabs your waist.
"I know. It's fun to tease you," you shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to place a quick, chaste kiss on his lips. "I'll get changed so I can put on a show for you and all the boys," you taunt, trying to slip out of his arms and toward the stairs. Daryl's eyes go wide and he takes two large strides after you, catching you from behind by the waist again and wrapping his large arms around you.
"Hell nah!" he exclaims, pressing his face into your neck as you squirm playfully in his arms.
"What? You don't want a show?"
"Just fer me," he drawls in your ear. "Nobody else," kissing your neck.
