Never Have I Ever -- Part I
Daryl Dixon x F!Reader
✮⋆˙Summary: based on S4E12 of twd titled "Still". You and Daryl come across an old cabin in the woods, bringing up sour memories and the hope of some protection. Due to a night of drinking crystal clear moonshine and a game of Never Have I Ever on the decaying floorboards, you two open up when you dare Daryl to be blindfolded for the rest of the game.
✮⋆˙Warnings: smut, cursing, intoxication, blindfolding. subby Daryl who's nervous to touch you...
✮⋆˙Word Count: 2.3k
✮⋆˙a/n: welcome to my first installment of Kinktober 2025! i chose a few of the themes from this first week that i loved, including intoxication, blindfolds, and coming untouched! the first time i watched this scene i knew i had to rewrite it with my own horny twist ;)
˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚
It had been a while since you’ve properly relaxed. After the prison fell, all you could focus on was the likelihood of being eaten by walkers and picking up tracking skills from Daryl out in what felt like purgatory. It was hard not knowing what all happened, who made it out, and who didn’t. Fear overpowered every aspect of your life, and worry was an invisible mass forming in your stomach.
So when you and Daryl stumbled across a shitty cabin in the woods, you felt a light sense of relief. Never in your life did you think you would ever be so grateful to see four walls and a roof. Daryl, on the other hand, was hesitant. Part of you knew a spot like this would probably bring up some old memories from his past, things similar to what Merle had briefly mentioned to you in the prison. Teasing you, doing anything he could to steer you away from his brother. Nevertheless, there was something about Daryl that always intrigued you. He was a puzzle that couldn’t be solved, because you have all the pieces. And the way he worked with a crossbow, quickly, effortlessly, made you feel some type of way. It was selfish, but you were secretly ecstatic that you had escaped the prison with him. Maybe now would be your chance to see a side of him that was hidden behind the motorcycles and leather.
The house reeked of piss and cigarettes. Home sweet home You thought.
“Shit.” Daryl chuckled from the other side of the living room. He knelt down beside the torn recliner.
You turn your gaze from the stack of newspapers sat on the wooden bookshelf, noticing the mason jar in his hands. “What’s up?”
He straightened his back, facing you. “This fucker has moonshine. Shoulda known.” He explained.
“Jesus. Can’t you go blind from that or something?”
He smirked before locking his blue eyes with yours. “Nah. It’s all horseshit.” He tossed the jar to you. Frantically, you clumsily caught it midair before hitting the floor. You turned it over in your hands, looking for any type of indication of what it was. And yet, Daryl recognized the stuff in an instant. Maybe this would be a good way to loosen-up a bit? Get to spend some time with Daryl? You thought.
You chuckled. “Well… Should we try some, Dixon?” You replied.
“Right now?” He said, surprised.
You took a step over to him, closing the gap slightly. You could feel the heat blooming in your face. “Got nothin’ better to do.”
The room was heavy. You sat across from him, legs crossed on the floor with another mason jar half-full of the crystal liquor. He was at the foot of a beat-up leather couch, hugging his knees to his chest, eyes locked on the floor. You could feel a cool line of sweat fall down the centre of your back in anticipation, a rush setting off your senses the same way a rustling bush would. This was the first time you weren’t together fighting for your lives, instead having to face a real conversation. Something you both avoided until now. You rarely ever seen Daryl like this. Unsure, avoidant. You had to do something. You had to take control.
“Let’s play Never Have I Ever.” You insisted.
“Huh?” He said, blankly.
“You know. Like… I say something I’ve never done and if you have, you drink. If you haven’t, then I drink. And we just go back and forth.”
“Sounds easy ‘nough.” He shrugged.
“Okay. I’ll go first then.”
“Sure.”
“Never have I ever… Shot a crossbow. So now you drink.” You explain.
Sure enough, he tilted the glass and took a swig of the booze, making a sour face.
“Okay, fine then. I’ve never…” He paused for a second, thinking of a prompt. “Worn a dress.”
You rolled your eyes before taking your first sip. It tasted like poison, burning your throat as it melt into your stomach. At this rate, it would take you years to actually get to know each other.
“Let’s make this more interesting.” You giggled. “How about if the other person hasn’t done it, they have to dare you to do something.”
“Like what?” He said, looking at the floor.
“Anything.”
His face tilted up, looking at you intrigued. “Anythin’?”
“Yes. Anything.” You stated.
“M’kay, sure. Let’s do it.” He snarled. It was obvious that he was hesitant to the idea given how little he had looked at you this whole time. Hopefully, this would help him come out of his shell.
“Okay, my turn. Never have I ever been stopped by the cops.”
“Damn.” He sighed, taking a long drink from his glass. “It was one time, m’kay?”
“Seriously? For what?” You asked.
He shook his head. “Somethin’ dumb.”
“No, really, tell —”
“Never have I ever…” He started, ignoring what you just said. “Been outta Georgia.”
You stared at him in silence. In all your years on this planet you truly never left the state. You had planned to after college with your friends to celebrate graduating. Instead, the thought of leaving was bitter, a tender memory of what life used to be.
“Really?” He looked at you puzzled.
“What? Like you’re the only one in the whole state who’s stayed?”
He looked uncomfortable, shifting in his spot. Silenced by the overwhelming guilt of touching a nerve. “Well, I just. A girl like you usually leaves to see places like they write about in them books.” You could see the regret in his puppy dog eyes.
You took a moment, finding a spot on the floor to focus on instead of crying, rearranging your legs to sit more comfortably. “I just… I just never got to, is all.”
Great. Now this was awkward. Definitely the last thing you needed tonight. You couldn’t bear to see the sadness in his gaze. It reminded you of your own pain, prompting you to think about what else you had lost. Your family, your friends, the hopes and dreams you once had. It was all gone.
But you couldn’t think about that right now. Instead, you needed to loosen up. You straightened your back and took a long drink from your cup before pulling it from your lips.
“You know… Now I have to give you a dare.” You said.
“Fine.” He looked back up to you, questioning what exactly it was you would make him do.
You knew what would help you more forward. “I dare you to play the rest of the game blindfolded.”
He shook his head, smiling to himself shyly. “Are you serious right now?” He said, his voice cracking.
“Do I look like I’m serious right now, Dixon?” You said blankly.
“M’kay, fine.” He drew a black piece of fabric from his pocket, holding it out in front of you for assistance. “Gon’ need some help here.” His voice was squeaky with defeat.
“My pleasure.” You teased before grabbing the fabric. You swung your legs under yourself and got up before walking over to his side of the table. Once you were standing over him you squatted down, gently wrapping the cloth around his eyes and securing it behind his head with a knot. His hair smelled like blood and wind, further intoxicating your senses.
Before another second could pass, you got back up and resumed your spot on the floor. Despite being blindfolded, he was calm, trusting you in this moment.
“So it’s my turn I guess.” You gulped, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Never have I ever… Been in love.” You blushed.
He was quiet. “Nope.” He said dryly.
“It looks like we’re both losers then.” You laughed.
“Looks like it.” He smiled. “I, uh… I have to give you a dare now, right?” He was nervous.
“Those are the rules.”
From under the blindfold you could see redness spread across his face. “Okay then. I dare you to… Let me touch your hair.”
“My hair?” You moved your hand back, feeling the loose braid hanging between your shoulders. It was the only way to keep your hair from getting matted.
“Yeah, I guess. Those are the rules, right?” He said.
“I guess so.” You replied.
Slowly, you got up from your spot, making your way over to him and sitting down on his left side, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. Close enough to be met by the same faint scent of cherry red blood.
You took the braid in your hands, patiently unweaving the strands holding it in place and brushing your fingers through your hair, allowing it to fall over your shoulders. Revealing yourself to him, the pieces tucked away since this all started.
He leaned in closer, whispering to you gently. “Is this okay?”
You leaned in, meeting his tone. “Yes, Daryl. It’s okay.” You confirmed quietly.
Timidly, he reached a hand to the pieces falling beside your face, touching them lightly, being careful to not pull too hard to hurt you.
A breath escaped you, enjoying the feeling of being touched for the first time in months. Hell, it’s been years. In response, his fingers froze in fear, scared that he hurt you.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
“Yeah. Sorry, it’s just been so long since I’ve felt like this.” You giggled. “This feels so nice, Daryl.”
He let out a sigh of relief, air he was holding in while waiting for you to answer.
Something felt different between you. Your head felt lighter and the air was sweet. Maybe it was the booze, sure, but there was more to it. You liked getting to know him like this, so intimately, so relaxed. His touch was so gentle, nurturing you and silencing all the bad thoughts that have been circling your mind for so long.
“Never have I ever…” He started. “Been to college.” He said, fingers still running through your hair.
“Nice one, Dixon.” You teased before taking another drink. Your heart was beating fast, pounding with every stroke he ran down your hair. It was dizzying, clouding your thoughts and hurting your eyes. The alcohol made your lips tingle, begging for relief.
“My turn.” You said, turning towards him to whisper in his ear. “I’ve never kissed someone who’s been blindfolded before.” Your voice trailed off, pressing for a response.
His hand left your hair, darting back down to rest on his knee. You could see the way his ears turned red under his dark hair. He shifted in place, taking in what you just said, unsure of what to say. Instead, he laughed nervously, shaking his head as a reply.
“I want you, Daryl.” You said breathlessly.
“You drank too much.” He exclaimed nervously.
And in that second, you took control, pressing the palm of your right hand behind his shoulder and angling your face down to him, touching his soft lips to yours. He tasted like moonshine. Bitter, cold, but addictive. At first, he sat there frozen, before leaning into you, bringing his hand to the back of your head, digging his fingers into your hair, deepening the kiss.
You reached your other arm across him, fingers finding purchase on the side of his neck, pulling him in until he pushed himself up and turned his body to face you to face you, his figure forcing you between him and the foot of the couch. Your mouth parted, allowing his tongue to frantically brush over yours, tasting you. You couldn’t get enough, he was so gentle with you, running his hands down your hair and kissing you with so much patience, being sure to do it right.
Your breath grew heavy, gasping for air between every kiss, unable to control your heartbeat to the point where you thought it might explode out of your body. You reached a hand to your head, taking one of his hands in yours and placing it on your chest, begging him to feel just how much his touch fucked with you. But you needed more, needed him to touch you, to make you feel a way you haven’t in years. Slowly, you dragged his hand onto your right breast, dragging his palm over your hardened nipple straining through your shirt.
Daryl gasped at the feeling, unable to control his breath, tightening his grip on your hair to brace himself. Concern brushed over your body, hoping you didn’t take it too far and scared him away. He pulled back, prompting your eyes to open. This was quite the scene. Your legs were parted, laying on either side of him, opening your body up to him. He was kneeling between your thighs, the blindfold damp with sweat and beads of moisture falling from his neck.
“Fuck.” He sputtered. “Fuck me.” He said, tilting his head down.
“What is it?” You asked, mouth wet and swollen.
“Nothin’. Just… Just gimme a sec. Ah, shit.” He was flustered, lips reddened from kissing you. He reached his hands up, untying the fabric covering his eyes. It fell between you, revealing the worry in his face and an expression that almost read as embarrassment.
He was paralysed, looking down to the wet spot dotting the crotch of his pants.
He came. Daryl Dixon was covered in his own fucking cum from kissing you. You didn’t even have to touch him and it happened. Your heart was still racing, but now it was at the realization that you were the reason for this. You made Daryl Dixon cum.
His eyes tilted back up to look at you, widened at the sight and scared of the fact that you had pieced together what had happened. Terrified that he fucked this all up. Panic took over, pushing him to stare at you blankly, doing his best to decode what was going on inside your head. Was it all over?
Instead, you bat your eyes at him, cheeks blushing from excitement.
“All this for me, Dixon?” You teased, leaning over and planting a sweet kiss on his cheek. You spoke to him slowly, making sure he heard every word you said. “Just… Make sure you return the favour next time.” Because there would definitely be a next time.
