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darylscvmdumpster · 9 months

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another life - carl grimes

warnings: BIG SPOILERS. s8, cute fluffy things at first, angst-ish, sad, sad, normal walking dead stuff, mentions of death, lots and lots of tears. 1.6k words

“where’s carl?” you asked michonne as you walked up the stairs of their porch. she looked like she was going somewhere.

“he’s upstairs. you need anything?” you smiled and shook your head. “no, just wanna see him.” she walked down the porch. “where are you going?” she didn’t answer she just kept walking.

i opened the door to the house calling out for carl. “carl.” i drug out the ‘l’ in his name. shutting the door behind me i made my way up the stairs.

“y/n?” he rounded the corner. your boyfriends face coming into view. “what’re you up to, pretty boy?” i smiled brightly at him. we went into his room. “i was just washing up.” he sat on the floor moving what looked like envelopes.

“i missed you.” i sat on his lap, straddling him. i threw my hands around his neck and pecked his lips. “i missed you too.” his hands fell onto my hips.

“you’re very pretty, y’know that?” he was always so sweet, no matter what’s happening. “shut up, grimes.” you said pushing yourself off his lap, causing him to wince.

“did i hurt you? i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to.” he shook his head standing up. “no, no you didn’t hurt me.” if i didn’t hurt him why’d he sound like he was hurt.

“come here.” i said reaching my hands out. he took my hands with a confused face. i took his shirt into my hand and started to unbutton it, he pulled back.

“what are you doing?” i tried to take his shirt back into my hands but he backed away again. “i wanna see if you’re hurt. you said i didn’t hurt you but you sounded like it hurt.”

he shook his head. “it’s just a scratch from a run, i’m fine.” he buttoned his shirt back up. “let me see it, please carl.” he sighed and unbuttoned the bottom of his shirt. lifting it to see a bandage placed there.

“that looks pretty big for just a scratch.” you carefully peeled back the bandage. you looked up at carl whose eyes were tearing up.

“carl.” he had a walker bite under the bandage. “why didn’t you tell me?” you looked up through your teary eyes.

“i didn’t want y’all to spend the last moments of my life treating me like i’m fragile.” i pulled him into a hug. “you should’ve told me, we could’ve spent all day doing your favorite things.” i pushed myself away from him and wiped my tears.

he was dying and he didn’t tell me, he didn’t tell anyone. if i knew this was time last time i would see him i would’ve done something special.

“i just didn’t want you, or anyone treating me differently.” i reached out and buttoned his shirt back up.

“you know me, baby. i would’ve treated you the same of you wanted me to. i wish you would’ve told me.” he wiped the tears from my eyes.

“i love you.” he kissed my forehead. “i love you too, carl. i will always love you.” i laid my head in the crook of his neck. we stayed like that for a while.

eventually we got into his bed, just laying there. “what were those envelopes?” you looked up at him. his finger’s tracing circles on your skin.

“letters for everyone.” the silence after that was all that i needed to know what was in the letters. “i’m gonna miss you, y’know.” he looked down at me. “your cute smile, the way you actually listen, brushing out your rats nest you like to call hair.” you pulled on a strand of his hair.

a weak smile tugging at your lips. “this isn’t fair.” your voice breaks slightly as you push his hair out of his face. “we were supposed to grow up together and get married and have kids.” he rubs your back as you cry in his arms.

you and carl grew up together. y’all were best friends since birth, then the apocalypse happened. the walkers crowded the streets and carl and lori came to your door. y’all have been together since then, never leaving each others side.

once y’all got to the prison that’s when y’all started to notice the feelings y’all had. you never acted on it until after you thought you were safe in alexandria.

you and carl had started dating shortly after y’all had settled down in alexandria. you’ve been even more inseparable after that.

“i know, life isn’t fair sometimes.”

we woke up at the sound of someone talking. it was way too loud to be just outside. we got up quickly and went outside to see what the noise was.

“negan.” he said before going around alexandria getting the people to the safe spot in the sewer.

“go y/n. you need to be with them when this all goes down, you need to be safe.” you look at him in disbelief. “no. no way! i’m coming with you, carl. no matter what you say.”

negan started to launch fire into alexandria. you and carl made it to the sewers and climbed in. carl wasn’t looking very good, he was burning up and sweating bullets.

as soon as you got in he sat down and leaned against whatever was closest. rick and michonne were down there and they saw this.

they came over and asked what was wrong. you looked away tears in your eyes. rick and michonne look at each other.

“i-i dont..” rick hesitated. “dad.” he shook his head and looked up at carl. “how..”

“dad.” carl cut him off once again. “it’s alright.” he took a breath before saying, “it’s gotta be.” carl eas holding back his tears. we all were.

“i wasn’t sure if you’d make it back before..” he stopped and panted. “but just in case y’know” he pulled the letters out of his pocket. “i wanted to make sure i was able to say goodbye.” he looks at me and i wipe one of my tears away.

rick shook his head. “no. it’s them. it’s them. they— they don’t..” he looks away. “it wasn’t..” he looks back at carl and michonne starts to cry. “carl.”

carl looks at his dad. “no.” rick says. “no.” carls eyes start to tear up. “i got bit.” his lips pressed into a thin line and he shakes his head. “i was bringing someone back. his names siddiq. we saw him at the gas station before…” his breathing becomes heavy. “it wasn’t the saviors.” he cries. “it just happened.”

rick looks down and you can hear the distant booming coming from above. michonne is shaking and i’m beside carl crying. “i got bit.”

everyone had exited the sewer and rick, michonne, carl and you had gone up to an empty building. they laid him on the floor and he was breathing heavily.

“thanks for…for getting me here.” he weakly said. “i’m sorry. i just.. i didn’t— i didn’t want you out there.” carl shakes his head. “no..no for getting me here. for—for making it so i could be who—who i wound up.”

his breathing became shallow and we all silently cried. i held his hand. “back at the prison…when we got attacked. there was a kid, a little older than me. he had a gun, he was— he was starting to out it down and then i—i shot him.” he shook his head. “and i..i just..i shot him…i think about him. what i did to him and how—how easy it was to just..kill him.”

rick tilted his head. “carl, no…no” he cries, “what happened, what you’d lost..” he cries. “all those things you had to..” he sniffles. “all those things you had to do..you—you—you were just—you were just a boy.” carl shakes his head. “and you saw it. what it did. how—how easy it got.”

“thats why you changed..why you brought those people from woodbury in..you brought them in, and we all lived together. we were enemies. you put away your gun. you did it so i could change, so i could be who i am now.” he cries softly.

“what you did then, how you— how you stopped fighting..it was right. it still is.” he shook his head. “it can be like that again. you can still be like that again.” his voice cracked.

“i cant be who i was. its different now.” carl took a big breath. “you cant kill all of em’ dad. theres gotta be something after. for you…and for them.” michonne looks at rick. “theres gotta be something after. i know.. you can’t see it yet..how it could be.” he swallows. “but i have..” carl describes the future that he sees for everyone.

“carl, it was all for you.” he frowns slightly. “right from the start. back in atlanta, the farm—everything i did, it was for you.” he repositioned himself. “then, at the prison, it was for you and judith. it still is, its gonna be. and nothing—nothing is gonna change that.”

he exhaled. “i want this for you, dad.” rick cried. “i’m gonna make it real, carl. i promise. i’m gonna make it real.”

carl silently sobbed and looked at michonne and then at me. “i love you.” i put a hand on the side of his face. “i love you too, y/n, we’ll be together again in another life.” a tear rolled down my cheek. i gave his hand a light squeeze and then everything went silent.

the last words i heard from carl. my world shattered to pieces that day, the world ended again.

DARYLSCVMDUMPSTER i cried making this. i am so sorry. i love carl and it literally broke my heart making this but i’m evil so the thought popped in my head. you should def. checkout my stories on wattpad (darylscvmdumpster) im not as active on there tho!

#CARLGRIMES #carl grimes #the walking dead #the walking dead carl #twd carl grimes #twd grimes #twd #the walking dead season 8 #the walking dead x reader #im not crying you are #DARYLSCVMDUMPSTER

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geralallfandoms · 1 year

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|RICK GRIMES|

When everything falls apart

Warnings: Violence, grief, depression, beatings, blood, death, suicidal thoughts and all kinds of common things in twd.

Rick Grimes X Fem reader

The whole place was in a strange silence that had made you uncomfortable. You had gone out looking for your sister who was keeping watch in one of the towers but when you arrived, you noticed that it was empty.

On the other side of the fence you saw that something was moving, so you decided to go out and see, maybe she had gone out to get rid of a walker, just to go around the perimeter, but when you got there you'll immediately regret going.

The Governor, along with two of his men, were tying Hershel and Michonne hand and foot. You quickly reached for your weapon, but before you could even reach for it, one of them lunged at you.

"I don't think that's a good idea…" He whisper in your ear. If something else to do, you let them tie you down too, there would be no use fighting three people who were twice as big as you.

You thought about all the things they were going to do to them, even the idea of never seeing your sister again crossed your mind, but with a sharp and strong blow with the butt of the gun, all those things were erased and everything went dark.

When you woke up, your head was resting on Michonne's shoulder and Hershel's gaze was locked on you. "Are you alright dear? You received a strong blow." The man whispered, but it was not necessary to say it, your vision was cloudy and everything was spinning, it was obvious that the blow had been strong.

You looked up and were surprised to find that you were in front of the prison bars. Next to the truck was a tank that was aimed directly at your group. To your family. To the people you had met under horrible circumstances and who had changed your life forever. The people you would give your life for without thinking twice.

One of the men opened the door and took Hershel's arm "Is Hershel on the council?" You heard the governor say. "What about Y/n and Michonne? Are they on the council too?" The man took you and Michonne by the arm, leaving you kneeling in front of the tank.

You were in the middle of them, you could see your whole group in the distance, while Rick was on the other side of the fence closer, talking with the governor.

Actually, you weren't fully aware of listening to what they were talking about, you just thought about everything that could happen, about everything that could end badly, you couldn't stop thinking about what would happen to all the children who were in there, in all those who were sick and who would need help to get out.

"We can all live here. We wouldn't even have to see each other, we'd live in different pavilions...it might work. Your friends, they live here now, they're leaders...it might work." Rick's words sounded hopeful and for a moment you believed in them, for a moment you thought that they could work things out, come to something...

"Liar."

Said the governor interrupting your thoughts. And suddenly, without you noticing the moment in which he had taken the katana, you saw out of the corner of your eye how it shone in the sun, how it seemed to move in slow motion and how the edge cut part of Hershel's neck with a single blow.

The blood that spurted from his neck was going straight to your face.

Rick's scream along with his first shot were the triggers for the war to begin.

Bullets were flying everywhere and all you could do was crouch down and watch as the man writhed in pain, as gasps came out of his mouth, incoherent, perhaps you had managed to hear the name of his daughters, but your state of shock did not let you hear or think clearly.

You saw to your left how Michonne was rolling behind one of the cars, you wanted to copy her action taking advantage of the fact that the ties on your legs were quite loose, but when you managed to get up, a woman ran towards you until she threw you to the ground again.

His fists went directly to your face, another went to your stomach and after fighting and fighting with the ties of your hands, when you managed to let go, you hit her directly in the face, causing her to destabilize. The fight continued for a few more minutes that were endless, the physical and mental pain was too much and you just prayed for it all to end.

And as if it were a miracle, Michonne appeared behind her, grabbed her hair as she took the gun away from her and ended her life with a shot.

The blood came out of your nose without stopping, the woman passed an arm through your arm, helping you to stop. With slow steps they walked to where Rick was, who was still fighting against the governor, and once again, Michonne became someone's salvation; she took her katana from the floor and completely pierced the governor, ending all the curse.

Rick was almost the same or worse than you, but he clearly had much more willpower, since he got up practically alone, screaming in search of his son.

The woman took you by the arm again, began to guide you when she saw that you were still in shock and did not react around you, they walked all over the place in search of someone, of something that was useful.

As she lifted one of the weapons from one of the bodies, you saw a walker approaching you and when you looked up, you wished that katana had hit you and not Hershel.

In front of you, gray-eyed, snarling, arms outstretched, mouth open in search of meat, was your sister.

The woman you loved the most in the world, the woman you had always taken as an example to follow, the woman you had not been able to fire... to tell her that you loved her for the last time.

You allowed yourself to cry and scream. You walked up to her and started pushing her away, forbidding this thing to pose as your sister.

Arms took you by the shoulders, pulled you away from her. Michonne whispered in your ear that they had to go, that she was so sorry but they had to go, and when you realized that she was right, you simply let her take you as long as she thought it was necessary.

---------‐---------

They walked for hours, Michonne practically dragging you, you simply repeated the image of your sister over and over again in your head, without caring what was happening around you.

It wasn't until you saw that they were in front of a house, the woman was looking out the window as tears fell down her cheeks and her chin trembled. After a few minutes the door opened, revealing the person you least expected.

Carl and Rick grinned from ear to ear seeing that they were okay at least one more of the group had survived.

Rick practically ran to hug you, caressing your head and back, but he separated from you when he noticed that you didn't respond to his hug.

"Y/n?what's wrong?" he asked as he put his hand on your cheek, removing the dirt that ruined that soft skin that he had always loved.

"She...sh-shes dead"you said as the tears fell down your cheeks again.

Having him in front of you, caressing your face, seeing his eyes that transmitted so much peace, you let all your incentives flow.

Your legs went limp and he quickly took you in his arms, taking you to the couch inside the house, Rick sat down first and took you in his arms, causing you to sit on his legs, with your head resting on his chest, allowing you to listen. their beats.

You cried all night as you let Rick comfort you, you thought of all the moments with your sister, you thought of the thousand and one ways she had died, but in the end it was Rick's reassuring words and hugs and kisses, who managed to calm you down and put you to sleep.

Those who allowed you to rest your wounded heart, together with the person you had dreamed of being for so long.

(Hello! Thank you very much for all the support to the other story😭 I really did not think I would have so much support! I am always willing to take requests! I hope you like it, sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language. )

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alwaysthequietones · 29 days

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You're the brave man? I am. But maybe you can call me dad.

#richonne #rick x michonne #the ones who live #the ones who live spoilers #they did it #they fucking did it #I'm not doing well guys #they're back with their babies #they got their dad back #losing my shit #rick grimes #michonne grimes #judith grimes #RJ grimes #the walking dead #twd #twd spoilers #my gifs

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riickgrimes · 1 month

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#the walking dead #the ones who live #twd: the ones who live #twdedit #towledit #towl spoilers #richonne #richonneedit #rick grimes #michonne grimes #andrew lincoln #danai gurira #mine and only mine #JUST LIKE HIS DADDY #LIKE HIS MAMA #😭😭😭

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msanonships · 1 month

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rick grimes, the romantic™️

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azizefan · 2 months

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RICK + MICHONNE in The Ones Who Live s1.3 // The Walking Dead s7.5

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taiturner · 1 month

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THE ONES WHO LIVE ◆ 1x04 "What We"

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antlergrave · 16 days

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uh oh

oh damn he was just dreaming

#someone wake his ass up before the dream escalates any further #twd #the walking dead #crack ship #regan #rick grimes #negan #twd fanart #the walking dead fanart #one sided regan #diehard r1chonners dont attack me for this put ur pitchforks down #rick x negan #negan x rick

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sharpesjoy · 1 month

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It could only ever have been you.

THE ONES WHO LIVE | Become (1.05)

#*mine #twdedit #towledit #towl #twd towl #the ones who live #richonne #rick grimes #rick x michonne #towl spoilers #dailyflicks #dailytwd #tvedit #rick the man that you are

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coolpartytimefan · 28 days

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Michonne + Cat 🐈 - TOWL s1.6 / TWD s7.10, s3.12

#the one who lives #the walking dead #towl spoilers #michonne #the ones who live spoilers #towledit #twdedit #twd thce ones who live #michonne cat #towl #twd #parallels #richonne #rick grimes #carl grimes #twddaily #my edit

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nat111love · 2 months

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THE ONES WHO LIVE ↳ Season 1 ↳ Episode 1 ↳ Years

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tangerineprettygreen · 29 days

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Don’t mind me, just snot nose crying rn.

#i dreamed of times like this #towl spoilers #the ones who live #twd towl #richonne #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #towl #judith grimes #rj grimes #grimes family

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scudslut · 2 months

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Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'.

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.”

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water.

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily.

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly.

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy.

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away.

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong.

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?”

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank.

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

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