In the Trunk

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You and Daryl ended up alone after the Prison fell, and you'd both been through your fair share of hardships together and apart, but this takes the cake.
You had noticed a herd stumbling towards the two of you while you were crossing a road. Both of you panicked, desperately searching for a place to hide while the herd felt as if it was coming from all sides. You finally found a car with an open trunk as the herd was almost on top of you. Daryl forced you in first, then followed swiftly.

The two of you were head to foot in the cramped trunk, listening to walkers claw at and press against the ass end of the car for who knows how long. Daryl had his crossbow pointed at the opening of the trunk for hours, just waiting for one of them to find a way in.

Eventually the herd was alerted of fresh meat, and stumbled off to claw at it instead, but by that time it was night and there was a storm outside. So the two of you stayed in the safety of the trunk, both eventually falling asleep, Daryl facing the opening of the trunk and you facing the backs of his legs.

~~~~~

Your eyes crack open, noticing quickly that light still wasn't coming into the trunk through the crack between the rear door and the car. It must still be late. You sighed, accepting that this was going to be yet another night where you were going to lay awake for hours.

You looked around the dim trunk groggily, noticing that Daryl was still sleeping unusually soundly. You grinned, enjoying seeing him finally relaxed.

Daryl had always been a protector in your group, making himself responsible for everyone and constantly keeping watch over others rather than himself. You admired him, truly. He was a purely good man in a world full of cruelty.

Your eyelids began to grow heavy again while you were thinking, so you let them close. You slowly drifted back to sleep with the warmth of Daryl's body next to you.

~~~~~

You woke back up suddenly, bright light streaming into the trunk of the car from outside. You rubbed your eyes groggily, before looking around the trunk with slightly blurred vision. Daryl had flipped over to face you in the night, and was holding your legs to his chest. You giggled to yourself at the innocent move, before speaking up, "Hey, Daryl? It's morning."

He groaned groggily, pulling you closer. The action dragged your face down to knee height, with you pressed against him. "Daryl!" You whispered impatiently, trying not to draw any outside attention.

He didn't respond again, pulling you closer until his arms were wrapped around the backs of your thighs and your hands were pressed against his thighs trying to keep your face from pressing against them.

You gave up on waking him quickly, and maneuvered your body a little, wiggling it away from his grasp so that your bodies weren't pressed flush against each other. Then, you scooted toward the back of the enclosed trunk, your back pressing against the back wall. Daryl's sleeping body was still only inches from you, but the two of you weren't pressed up against each other any longer.

Daryl slept soundly, occasionally making a noise or fluttering his eyelids, but you'd learned by now that it was a regular occurrence. You presumed that he had nightmares, but you'd never asked.

Then, he groaned. Not an annoyed or groggy groan; a groan of pleasure.

Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed, trying to comprehend what just happened. Then, he scooted towards you again, still presumably asleep. His arms wrapped around your back and his face was pressed against your thighs, so close to your crotch that you ached at the feeling of his breath against you. Your position matched his nearly identically. Your face was pressed against his thighs, his hard on painfully obvious pressing against your jaw. Though, this time there was nowhere to escape to. Your arousal was growing into a pit in your stomach, and the feeling of his fingers grasping your back desperately wasn't helping.

Your hands grasped his thighs tightly, "Daryl..." you mumbled.
He didn't respond, only moving slightly in the midst of a dream. "Darylll." You groaned, and his face only pressed deeper into your thighs.

God damn it, he never sleeps this deep.

Daryl's mouth opens slightly, his lower lip brushing against your clit. You muffle your moan against his legs, wiggling against him restlessly, accidentally creating more friction for yourself that causes you to let out another moan.

Shit, what am I doing?

"DARYL!!" You try again to wake him up.
"Y/n~" he groans, and you think for a moment that he's awake.
You glance down at him to find his eyes still shut tightly. Daryl tilts his head downward, and his nose brushes against your aggravated clit. Your fingers dig into the back of his thighs hard enough to scratch, and it startles Daryl awake.

His eyes slide open softly, opening to a strange view. He immediately catches an eye full of the drenched crotch of your pants, and notices his hands grasping desperately at your back. He glances down to find your heated eyes searching him, fingers dug into his thigh desperately with his hard on pressed against your cheek.

His cheeks flare, redness creeping from his cheeks to his ears. You smile nervously as you feel the stiffness in his muscles, like a cat ready to skitter away from your grasp.

Daryl's hands leave you, much to your displeasure, and he backs away from you swiftly, grabbing for the emergency release handle. He pulls down hard and barrels out of the trunk, running off into the woods in a flustered manner without his crossbow. You grabbed it and ran after him, knowing it was best not to split up even in highly embarrassing moments.

Daryl Dixon one shots Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt