Hello, and thanks for stopping by! This is my first foray into fanfiction, and all comments, critiques and feedback are greatly appreciated. This chapter is mostly setting the scene and back story. Stay tuned- next chapter has smut! Hope you like it! ;)
Disclaimer:
I'm the author of this story. The Walking Dead is the source of the original work. This story is mostly back story for now. Daryl Dixon/OC fantasy. I don't know Daryl Dixon, do not own the character Daryl Dixon, and do not mean to cause harm, confusion or headaches. This story is simply intended for enjoyment of the readers. Please don't sue me!
I wasn't ready for the end of the world, and I certainly wasn't ready to meet a man like Daryl Dixon.
When the world went to hell, I was just a Junior in college trying to figure out what I would do once graduation rolled around. One minute I'm writing an essay on The Fall of Western Civilization; next minute, I'm living in it.
Everything happened so fast, but it is burned into my memory like a brand. My parents came help get my boyfriend Tom and I out of town. Before my very eyes, my own roommate ate my mom, and bit my dad when he tried to help. Tom cried like a baby, as if they were his parents. He couldn't even get up off his knees to help. I pulled my shit together, and did what had to be done. There's not a day goes by I don't think about my mom and my dad, and I won't forget the disdain I quickly felt for Tom.
Two weeks in, and we've made it into the Georgia countryside. Tom is off weeping while he sets up our camp for the night. Hunting for food and getting fresh water is my job. I don't mind, gives me an excuse to clear my head. My daddy raised me in the mountains so I'd be able to hold my own. Who knew how useful that was going to be?
I finally came across a fresh stream, first one we'd seen in days. Filling our canteens, I desperately wanted to wade in and wash off the grit of the road. The water was cool and crisp, and tasted sweet on my lips. What the hell, I thought. Tom will survive if I take an extra hour for myself. Little did I know, that decision would snowball into a whole new life.
I set my rifle and hunting knife down on the dirt, took off my leather Flyboys jacket and kicked off my boots. I half thought about wading in fully clothed, just to get them clean, but decided the discomfort of sitting in wet jeans the rest of the day wasn't worth it. Up and over my tight orange t-shirt went, and down went the dark blue skinny jeans. I decided to keep on my matching black lace bra and thong though. Girl can't be too careful.
Wading out into the middle, I felt divine. Finally, a moment of peace, quiet, and more importantly, solitude. Or so I thought.
"What the hell you doing, woman?"
Looking to the other bank, my heart leapt into my throat. Standing there with his crossbow cocked, his black leather jacket, ripped jeans and work boots, he was wild, free, and sexy as hell.
"You mute or somethin'?"
Answer him! Say something, anything!
"What the hell does it look like, I'm going for a swim!" Good one, Lucy.
"I can see that. Can't figure as to why?"
"I can't figure as to why it's your business."
"S'pose it ain't, then. Y'out here by y'self?"
"Do you see anyone else right now?"
Daryl couldn't believe her sass. Out there swimming around like it was just any old day in June. Woman had a set of balls bigger than a bull.
A piercing scream interrupted, breaking my staring. Oh shit, Tom!
"Sorry, gotta run!" I sprinted out of the stream, grabbed my gun and my knife, and took off back towards camp.
Right then and there, watching the water run down her back, seeing her sexy ass in her lace thong, Daryl knew it. He was going to have her…she was his.