*Sort of based off Norman’s movie Sky.
Request; Daryl and the reader are out on a supply run when out of nowhere, he kisses her. Please and thank you!
- Daryl Dixon x Reader
- 900 Words
- Warnings;Language, cutesy shit.
You hear Daryl’s light footsteps behind you. As a tracker, a hunter, he’s normally very light on his feet, but since you came along in the group, he took to trying to walk a bit heavier. His light footsteps always scared you, always put you on edge.
You are rummaging through a bin in the mall, looking for any type of clothing the group could use. Some of them were running low. Blood stains don’t come out too easily and it’s much quicker to just throw them away once they turn red.
Daryl’s breath feels like it’s hitting the back of your neck as he gets closer, almost standing directly behind you. Goosebumps appear on your arms and a chill runs down the center of your back, causing you to cough to hide the shiver.
“Found anythin’?” He asks, his voice always much softer with you around. Rick always teases that Daryl has a crush on you, but you doubt that. There is a little bit of an age difference and you thought Daryl may want someone a little older.
You turn around, ready to give him a full report on what you have found, when you suddenly stop and lay your eyes on Daryl, who hardly looks like Daryl at the moment. It takes a few seconds to register what was on top of his head and you can’t help but to giggle at the sight.
“What?” Daryl huffs, his eyes watching you closely as your shoulders shake. “Look like you’ve seen a clown.” His drawl was worse when he was messing about, giving his vowels a longer sound than they need, but obviously you thought it was the most adorable thing.
“I think I have.” You giggle and wipe at your eyes, trying to hide the tears that the laughter caused you. “That’s a look…”
Daryl tips the cowboy hat and gives you a little wink. “Don’t think you appreciate my hat.” He grumbles.
This isn’t like Daryl. He was pretty quiet and serious for the most part, hardly ever cracking a joke or straying away from the mission at hand. The others say it’s you—you bring out the kid in Daryl Dixon.
With a quick shake of your head, you turn around and continue looking through the bin of clothes, hoping something will pop up soon. Most of the items were already torn or far too large for the rest of the group, and with none of you knowing how to take in clothes, large wasn’t good enough.
“Whatever you want, Dixon.” You tease and move on to the rack of clothes, spotting a jersey that may fit one of the new kids back at the prison.
You feel Daryl’s eyes watching you as he stands behind you, that big, silly hat atop his head. It’s a style you never quite liked, but you have to admit, it was a damn sexy look on the redneck behind you.
After tossing the few shirts in the bag you brought, you zip it up and throw it over your shoulder, ready to move on to the next shop. It’s almost time to start heading back. This was only meant to be a day trip with the two of you, and the mall wasn’t too far away. You two can make it back by sunset, perhaps a little after dark if you stay for another hour.
Turning around, Daryl is still behind you, leaning against the bin you were previously looking through. You raise an eyebrow and watch how he’s staring at you. “What, Daryl?”
“Ya don’t like my hat.” Daryl’s eyes find yours and he locks onto yours, keeping his arms crossed in front of him.
A little annoyed, you decide to go along with it anyway. “I told you to keep the damn hat, dude.” You groan. “But can we go? We still need some baby supplies.”
Daryl grunts, though it’s not an answer you knew how to decipher. He continues watching you, his eyes trailing down your body. This hat makes him a whole new person. It seems to make him, confident?
He stands straight and strides over to you, grabbing the bag away and throwing it over his own shoulder instead. “Told ya I’d carry the bag.” He says in his usual rough tone.
You look up at him through your eyelashes, unsure how to act around this new Daryl. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying a bag full of clothes.” You insist.
“Mm hmm.” He takes a step closer and pulls his hat down, covering one of his eyes. “Pack mule, at yer service.”
You let out a laugh and cover your mouth, still unsure what was happening in the world today.
Before you have a chance to calm down and collect yourself, Daryl places a hand on your hip and pulls you closer to him, nearly touching your body to his with just enough space between you two. It confuses you, causing you to gasp and put your hands against his chest.
He tilts his head as he watches you, the hat tilted up slightly so you could still see his face. “Don’t cha laugh at me, little girl.” He whispers in your ear, sending a different kind of shiver down your spine.
Without a warning, he crashes his lips to yours, throwing you off your guard and nearly smacking him, but then he softens himself, kissing you gently and with a little hesitation, as if he wasn’t expecting it himself.
You slowly slip your arms up and around his neck, playing with the little hairs sticking out from underneath the cap. His hand is still firmly on your hip.
In no time, Daryl is pulling back, blinking down at you as if he isn’t sure what to do now. Honestly, neither do you. This is something new between you and Daryl, but you don’t exactly want it to stop.
“Keep the hat. I love it.”