🛐DILFS🛐

However, although he had begrudgingly accepted such a reality, that certainly didn't mean he had enjoyed it. Daryl did not become passive or even slightly civil amongst the others. He did not simply remain both silent or compliant in regards to the constant proximity of the group members. Instead, Daryl often openly expressed his negative emotions regarding the entire ordeal, whether that be through blunt behaviors or simply articulating his own opinions. In fact, there had been many occasions in which he had utilized some rather choice words when referring to the others, obviously not afraid to admit that they were actively annoying him.

Typically, Daryl was rather reserved, antisocial, and misanthropic around camp. He consumed each meal alone, blatantly avoided any form of shared conversation, and even attempted to ward the others away through the usage of a rather dramatic and harsh demeanor, honestly believing that if he behaved absolutely unpleasant, the other group members would promptly distance themselves entirely upon their own accord. Daryl savored the rare occasions in which he was provided with any form of alone time, often even going out of his way to achieve such solitude. Whether that be through the usage of unnecessary hunting trips, or by abruptly barricading himself within the confines of his own tent, he obviously wasn't afraid to distance himself.

According to Merle, his baby brother had always been that way. Even as a young kid, Daryl was prone to simply removing himself from any form of social interaction, no matter how rude or disrespectful his abrupt absence may have been perceived as. Since the moment in which he was born, Daryl had always been both aloof and reserved. In fact, during the first few months of his life, his parents had even considered the possibility that maybe something was wrong with him, due to the reality that he rarely ever cried or fussed, as most babies did. Yet, his silence probably wasn't the result of simple relaxation or comfort. Instead, it was most likely due to his parents constant torment, the fact that they would immediately punish him the second he displayed any sort of needs.

"There he goes again." Merle would drawl with a smirk, attempting to somehow embarrass Daryl whenever he would suddenly wander away from camp, in search of any form of solitude "Throwin' another one of 'is tantrums 'cause it's too loud for his sensitive little baby ears." Regarding Daryl as if he was some sort of emotional kid simply searching for attention through the usage of both dramatic and obnoxious behaviors.

And now that he had been practically forced to occupy every single second of the day constantly surrounded by others, his antisocial tendencies had only further intensified.

The constant proximity was driving him absolutely insane, causing Daryl to yearn for even just a brief moment of solitude. Suddenly, he was utilizing every possible excuse, no matter how childish they truly were, simply in order to gain some sort of alone time. Whether that be by going to sleep much earlier than anyone else, or awaking long before the sun had even graced the morning sky, Daryl would utilize every possible second of silence to his own benefit.

Of course, everyone else had immediately perceived his rather avoidant tendencies. Whilst the other members of the group would be participating within some sort of group activity, whether that be during a shared meal or whilst washing their clothing within the quarry, Daryl would always be absent. If someone had even dared to offer their company during one of his various hunting trips, he would immediately reject such an invitation. And they certainly weren't ignorant to the numerous occasions in which Daryl would just outright demand that someone were to leave him the fuck alone.

Yet, there was seemingly one exception to this social rule of his: You. Not the children, who required much more protection and surveillance. Not even Merle, his literal brother. No. Just you.

"The fuck I look like tah ya? A damn babysitter?" He'd growl towards Lori after she had suggest that he was to take Carl hunting with him one day, in order to teach him some rather important survival techniques, especially within todays world.

"This ain't God damn Lord of the Flies; I don't need ya to watch me fuckin' sleep." Daryl would huff after Glenn had been kind enough to offer to keep watch by his tent one evening, due to the fact that Daryl's sleeping area had been positioned much farther away from the rest of the camp, causing him to become easily accessible to any sort of woodland threat.

But God forbid, the mere second in which you had even mentioned learning to properly hunt, Daryl had failed to even briefly protest. Rather than pushing you away or immediately rejecting such a notion, just as he would have done with any of the others. Instead, he had simply allowed you to join him. During your adventure, Daryl had taught you a few basic techniques in regards to successfully utilizing such a weapon, explaining that it was the safest and least obnoxious option. The two of you had talked, chatted, and even laughed together, which was an extremely rare audio for anyone to perceive.

Of course, once you had first decided to accompany him, Daryl had released a grumble of audible irritation, muttering beneath his breath in an attempt to appear both frustrated and vexed. In all honesty, most people annoyed him; shared conversations were boring, spending time with others had been regarded as tedious, and even the mere notion of further bonding with someone new was utterly draining. Getting to know people was something Daryl had compared to a chore, a monotonous task he often attempted to avoid.

However, specifically in regards to yourself, for some odd reason, he had felt much differently.

Surprisingly, your rather talkative and energetic personality had failed to simply annoy or irritate Daryl, as such a demeanor usually would have. Instead, your warm and welcoming behaviors had greatly excited him.

Maybe it was due to the reality that you did not just simply focus upon basic topics such as survival, rations, and your own personal concerns. Each of your thoughts did not revolve entirely around protection, safety, and the restoration of society. You failed to constantly complain about your own struggles, fears, or the lost life you now mourned. Instead, amongst a constantly decomposing world, you had still possessed some sort of optimism.

Such hope had not been directed towards attempting to repair humanity or somehow resolving the current situation. Rather, it was almost as if you had simply accepted the entire circumstance, and were trying to make the best of it. Compared to Lori, Shane, Andrea, and all of the others, you did not constantly complain or whine. In fact, it was as if you were the last remaining remnants of normalcy, typically chatting about your nightly dreams, silly memories, and the things you loved. Out of all of the other group members, Daryl had decided that you were the only one who was actually interesting.

When you had first requested to join him, even though Daryl appeared both annoyed and frustrated. In all honesty, he was the least bit upset. In fact, as the two of you begun to traipse into the wilderness together, he had desperately attempted to conceal the soft smile of excitement that was currently etched across his features by subtly tilting his vision towards the ground below him.

Everyone else had simply assumed that Daryl would dislike you, due to your extremely contradicting personalities. Whereas Daryl was gruff, quiet, and rather rude most of the time, you were the complete opposite: Happy, positive, and energized. They predicted that he would regard you as naive, childish, and foolish, due to your often carefree behaviors. Out of everyone, you surely should have been the main person to piss off Daryl, with all your constant happy-go-lucky bullshit.

However, the reality was almost the exact opposite.

Although Daryl was often visibly annoyed and irritated by the mere existence of others, usually resorting to simple avoidance. In regards to yourself, he had immediately accepted your company, within his own, Daryl Dixon fashion of course. Sure, he certainly wasn't jumping up and down with joy whenever you managed to greet him every morning or offer to join him during each hunting trip. However, he was a lot less jaded and snarky in regards to yourself, which said a lot.

Almost instantly, Daryl had allowed you to accompany him almost everywhere, whether that be throughout various scavenging missions, dinner around the camp fire, or even during the numerous late nights in which he was much too stressed to properly sleep. He allowed you to follow him around like some sort of lost puppy dog, all without any form of protest. Instead, quite the opposite: He almost seemed happy. The two of you would talk, chat, and even laugh together. In fact, the first occasion in which Dale had perceived the audio of Daryl's gruff laughter after you had shared a stupid joke amongst each other, the older man had honestly become somewhat frightened, worried that Daryl had been secretly attacked by one of those creatures, and such signs of joy were the initial symptoms of the disturbing transformation. Appearing genuinely happy wasn't natural for Daryl, so obviously, something was amiss.

Christ, he had even become so accustomed to your constant presence, even growing to honestly enjoy your company, the singular occasion in which you had failed to immediately offered to join him upon yet another hunting trip, Daryl had instinctually turned towards you and asked "Well, are ya comin'?" Obviously, his features had immediately flushed with embarrassment as soon as he perceived the manner in which the other group members peered towards him, silently judging him as if he might have been replaced by some sort of identical copy of himself that previous night, a much less quiet and reserved version of himself.

And the more you had attempted to successfully acquaint yourself with him, the more Daryl found himself searching for you. As much as he hated to admit it, he actually didn't mind your company, often even looking forward to the time in which the two of you spent together.

Whilst consuming breakfast each morning, Daryl would often discover his vision instinctually dancing across camp, silently observing you from a far. At night, upon the evenings in which it was his turn to keep watch, he would promptly situate himself as close to your tent as possible, in order to successfully defend you (in case of an emergency), without becoming too obvious of course. Even during rather intense events, the rare occasions in which a group of stray walkers may have accidentally stumbled upon your quaint little community, you were the first person he would search for, simply in order to confirm your safety. In all honesty, in regards to most of the other group members, Daryl couldn't have given too shits about their own survival, certainly not afraid to sacrifice them in order to save both himself and his older brother. And, for some odd reason, you as well. In fact, Daryl probably would have allowed himself to become some sort of chew toy for one of those monsters before they managed to lay even a singular finger upon yourself.

Sure, maybe it was corny and foolish, but there was just something about you that was different. Throughout the expanse of his entire existence, Daryl had despised most others, actively attempting to completely remove himself from society. Previously, he had disliked individuals he would have regarded as much too cheerful, nice, and even obnoxious. Maybe it was due to the current circumstance, the rapid decay of humanity causing his mind to become jumbled. Yet, whatever the reason may have been, your rather warm behaviors (a personality he would have previously regarded as annoying) had successfully provided Daryl with an unfamiliar sense of delight. In all honesty, he had enjoyed your strange form of optimism, cherished your almost intense companionship, and for the first time within a very long while, someone made him genuinely happy.

Initially, when Rick had first joined the group, Daryl had been extremely skeptical. Of course, he had always been a rather cautious individual, well aware of what society was truly capable of, no matter how kind the people around him may have appeared. Especially now, he certainly wasn't ignorant regarding the fact that, without any form of a proper government or legal punishment, society would swiftly devolve. Whilst encountering such an extreme version of despair, humanity certainly wouldn't be afraid to steal, fight, or murder for what they desired, especially when there was no longer any form of penalty. Lacking any form of enforced order, society was now allowed to do whatever they pleased.

Even worse, Rick was an officer, a specific category of civilian that Daryl had been taught to hate since birth. His parents had always claimed that law enforcement officers were corrupt, vile, and evil. And due to the manner in which Rick barged in like he owned the place, waltzing around within his stupid little uniform, barking orders like some sort of power hungry drill Sargent, was even more concerning. Daryl had regarded his foolish game of dress up as absolutely idiotic, even borderline crazy. Didn't he know the world had ended? There was certainly no need for such social status anymore. Within todays world, a stupid metal badge was completely useless. In fact, such a job title was now comparable to jumping from a plane with just an umbrella for support.

As soon as he discovered that Rick had basically left his brother for dead, Daryl was even more enraged. Sure, Merle was annoying, patronizing, and extremely irritating, someone he would typically describe as an asshole. However, such treatment was completely inhumane. For someone who constantly preached about both community and unity, Rick easily abandoned such ideology the moment in which it no longer benefited him.

In fact, Rick even had the nerve to act as if he was the crazy one, like Daryl had been simply over reacting regarding the entire, fucked up situation. God, he was beginning to hate this Rick Grimes character more and more with each second that passed.

Yet, he could tolerate such treatment from Rick, he was a complete stranger after all, and possibly even insane at that. In all honesty, Daryl wasn't too concerned regarding what a grown ass man dressed like a stupid cop had thought of him. And sure, the fact that a majority of the other group members had seemingly supported Rick (despite the reality that Daryl had been apart of the camp for much longer) was somewhat irritating, but he could manage. However, the most painful part of the entire situation was the manner in which you had observed Daryl.

As both Rick and Shane had struggled to successfully detain him, physically forcing him to the ground as he continued to both struggle and argue, like he was some sort of rowdy inmate, Daryl had done just as he always had: Instinctually searched for you, desperate for any form of comfort. Yet, as soon as he discovered the expression currently etched across your features, brows furrowed and vision uncertain, an empty pit had immediately formed within the depths of his stomach. You were currently gazing towards him as if you were completely disappointed, a hint of sorrow glimmering across your irises as you silently pitied him. And God, it absolutely shattered Daryls heart.

A warmth of shame instantly exploded across his features as soon as Daryl perceived your attention, his struggle suddenly ceasing in an attempt to somehow redeem himself. Even just the notion that you were even slightly disillusioned by him, the possibility that your perspective had instantly shifted, had caused Daryl to physically freeze, his vision basically glued to your own.

Rick had offered his assistance, willing to resolve the entire situation, all whilst he admitted no sign of blame, basically demeaning Daryl with the utilization of such a calm and mature tone, as if he was the one acting childish. Typically, Daryl would have refused, becoming both frustrated and stubborn as he rejected any form of assistance, simply in response to his own anger. However, as your vision continued to practically burn holes into the side of his skull, Daryl had begrudgingly agreed.

And besides, if Rick had been the one to initiate such a mess, then it was his responsibility to resolve the entire ordeal.

As the group of men began their journey back towards the city, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Rick possessed even the slightest sensation of regret. Sure, Merle had been behaving irrational, dangerous, and violent. However, stranding him on top of a random building, unable to successfully escape from the confines of the handcuffs, was comparable to that of murder. And as much as he had attempted to appear both calm and composed, Daryl's blatant distress was extremely upsetting. Of course, it hadn't been Rick's intention to actually harm Merle, just to somehow force him into obedience.

Therefore, in an attempt to somehow reconcile the entire relationship, Rick had initiated a bit of polite small talk. Of course, if he had known any better, Rick would have been well aware of the reality that this was a poor choice, due to Daryl's rather reclusive personality. In fact, such verbal confrontation would probably only further enrage him. Yet, he was determined to make amends, to avoid accidentally tarnishing the possible friendship before it had even gained the opportunity to actually form.

"So uhm, what did you do before all this?" Rick had suddenly inquired, whilst both Glenn and T-Dog strayed behind, the perfect opportunity to share both a proper and civil conversation with Daryl.

Of course, he had been attempting to act both kind and polite towards Daryl, to offer some sort of truce through the usage of simple conversation. Honestly, it truly hadn't been his intent to actually abandon Merle during such an intense moment. Rick had only planned to detain him long enough for the other man to properly relax. The unexpected group of walkers and accidentally losing the key had never been intentional.

However, Daryl had failed to properly respond, simply relying upon a low growl of irritation, within the same manner a temper mental house cat may grumble as some sort of warning. Yet, Rick had failed to successfully surrender, much to determined to simply give up. Instead, he had swiftly shifted towards a much more serious topic, a subject in which no man could ever easily ignore: His girlfriend.

"You and (Y/N)..." Rick started, hesitating for a brief moment as he considered exactly how to properly word his following question. Obviously, he had perceived the reality that Daryl was the prickly type, someone who was easily irritated, offended, or annoyed by others. And of course, accidentally managing to insult his girlfriend would surely only further enrage Daryl. This was a sensitive subject, and Rick was determined to avoid further spoiling their possible friendship. "How long have the two of you been together? Like, did you meet before or after everything happened?"

Now, this inquiry had appeared to successfully capture Daryl's attention, a topic he was unable to simply ignore.

Rather than remaining completely silent, as he had in regards to Rick's previous question (of course, other than the small, cautioned growl he had released before). Instead, Daryl's vision immediately flickered towards Rick, brows furrowed and a hint of confusion actively glimmering across his irises, as if he was attempting to somehow decipher the other man and his obvious antics. In all honesty, Daryl appeared rather perplexed, upset, and a bit frustrated as well, like such an inquiry had accidentally irritated him.

"What?" He asked, voice both short and cold, threatening the verge of anger.

Such an inquiry had been completely innocent, certainly not a strive towards further offending Daryl or somehow inducing any additional doubts. Within Rick's mind, selecting such a basic topic had been comparable to conversing about hobbies, movies, or interests. Honestly, Rick had only been attempting to bond with Daryl, to resolve their previous tension through the usage of simply small talk. However, due to the manner in which Daryl currently appeared completely vexed, Rick worried such a subject might have accidentally upset him once more, and he certainly wasn't prepared for yet another scuffle.

Obviously, Daryl was very territorial and protective regarding those he truly cared for: First, it had been Merle, the entire situation causing him to become instantly enraged. And now, it was you, just the simple mention of your own name had caused Daryl to become both tense and cautious, as if the mere notion of another man treading onto his territory had immediately managed to irritate him.

Of course, in response to such a visible reaction of irritability, Rick had frantically attempted to defend himself, desperate to avoid another confrontation.

"I didn't mean anything by it, swear." Rick swiftly explained, a hint of urgency laced within his tone "You two are just really cute together and I wanted to know the story. Just trying to get to know you better, man."

Maybe he had been much too quick to judge, failing to provide Rick with a proper chance before he had instantly become skeptical of the new group member. Sure, Rick could have possessed some redeemable qualities, such as a quick and reliable decision making process, or admirable leadership abilities. Yet, simply based upon his interesting outfit selection and the fact that he could be perceived as somewhat bossy and arrogant, Daryl had instantly decided to dislike him. Christ, Merle constantly tormented both himself and everyone else, but Daryl had failed to properly dismiss him within the same manner he had ignored Rick, before even getting to know him. In all honesty, Daryl was the most familiar with Merle, and he was well aware of the reality that maybe his older brother had deserved such treatment.

Or, it was entirely possible that such a defensive reaction regarding the mere mention of your name was extremely concerning. If you weren't his girlfriend, then there was absolutely no reason for Daryl to behave so protective. Yet, for some odd reason, he had, and he surely didn't want any of the others to become even slightly intrigued by his rather fond emotions and strange actions towards yourself.

Whatever the reason may have been, it had caused Daryl to become rather sheepish and nervous, immediately attempting to conceal the evidence of his own embarrassment. He instantly shielded his flushed features as his vision flickered towards the ground blow him once more, head hanging low and properly shrouding his current expression of shame. An annoyed sigh suddenly slipped from his lips whilst Daryl finally allowed his shoulders to relax, as if to display his obvious form of defeat.

"Well don't bother. There ain't nothin' there. She's jus' a friend." Yet, he had remained as sassy as ever.

Sure, Daryl could recoil, to refrain from any form of additional protectiveness regarding yourself. However, in an attempt to maintain his somewhat dismissive and reserved personality, along with warding off any further suspicion from Rick regarding his emotions towards you, Daryl relied upon a prickly form of frustration once more, just as he always had.

"Oh..." Rick had muttered, sounding genuinely surprised "I just thought... Never mind."

Rick had ultimately decided to simply disregard the entire topic, especially following such a dramatic reaction from Daryl. Obviously, there was something between yourself and Daryl, something both fragile and sensitive that had certainly intrigued Rick. If the two of you truly weren't dating, as Daryl had claimed, then why did the two of you act as if you were? However, for the sake of his own safety, along with the fact that he was still determined to resolve the possible friendship, it was probably for the best if he were to just forgot about the whole topic.

Besides, once Rick had successfully managed to repair the entire situation, along with form a proper friendship between himself and Daryl, he could always broach such a touchy subject once again within the future.

However, despite the fact that Rick had seemingly surrendered, providing Daryl with the proper escape that he had so frantically desired, it was obvious that Daryl wasn't as accepting. In all honesty, he had always wondered how others viewed the entire situation between him and yourself: Was he as nonchalant as he had intended to behave? Or, were his emotions towards you crystal clear? Obviously, if Rick, someone who had just recently joined the group, was able to discern such an interesting dynamic, then so could the others, right?

Unable to ignore the tingling sensation of curiosity that had plagued him for months at that point, the flush of embarrassment currently glazing his features had only further intensified as Daryl suddenly pressed for any additional information.

This entire time, had it really been that obvious?

"What on God's green Earth made ya think tha' in tha first place?" He suddenly asked, gruff voice piercing the thick silence. His tone was so low, Daryl was basically whispering, only further displaying the fact that such a topic was obviously a secret.

Sure, he had relied upon a weak form of defensiveness, a faltering hint of anger trembling upon his tongue as he allowed his inquiry to support a bit of venom. However, despite the fact that he had concealed such a question beneath a mask of frustration, spitting poison in an attempt to avoid any further suspicion, his obvious curiosity regarding such a topic was completely undeniable. If the two of you truly weren't dating, then Daryl had absolutely no reason to be so inquisitive. Yet, he was, and such blatant intrigue certainly wasn't assisting him within his goal to remain completely careless.

Daryl was unable to dismiss the warmth of shame that slowly began to spread across his features before venturing down the column of his neck, infecting his entire form with utter embarrassment. He allowed his vision to remain glued to the ground, attempting to shield the obvious evidence of his current anxiety. Sure, he should have just remained silent, in order to avoid any further suspicion from the other man. Yet, he just had to know.

"I-I don't know." Rick nervously stammered, frantically deciding upon the most delicate words, concerned that just one wrong phrase might cause yet another brawl. Daryl had been instantly frustrated in response to his previous inquiry. Yet, here he was, seemingly allowing the conversation to prevail? Obviously, this was some sort of trap, right? "The two of you are just always together or lookin' for each other. And to be honest man, you only ever seem happy when you're with her. So, I just thought..." His voice trailed off, obviously referencing something he was much too scared to verbally mention once more, due to Daryls previous reaction.

The pair were utterly silent for a few moments, completely mute as Daryl digested such information. This entire time, had he really been that obvious? Every occasion in which he had secretly observed you from across camp, perceiving the manner in which your kind smile never failed to delight others, the way in which you attempted to maintain moral despite the constant berate of the world, was his attraction so clear the whole time? And if Rick could perceive his affection, could everyone else as well? Had you noticed too? If so, did you feel the same? Or were his emotions entirely unreciprocated? God, all the possibilities were causing his brain to ache and his heart to sink.

"Well, whatever you thought, you were wrong." Daryl had finally responded, deciding against simple sincerity, to possibly search for any form of reassurance from Rick, and ultimately relying upon defensive frustration, just as he always had. Anger never failed to protect him from pain.

However, despite Daryl's obvious irritation, Rick wasn't so easily fooled. Sure, maybe Daryl was strong, rough, and honestly a bit intimidating at times, and it was entirely possible that such anger had managed to repel those around him. Yet, Daryl's immediate rage was obviously just some sort of defense mechanism, an attempt to conceal his true emotions. There was absolutely no reason for someone to behave constantly temper mental and frustrated, if they weren't attempting to protect themself.

Yet, of course, Rick had simply failed to argue. Sure, an additional conversation may have revealed the truth, possibly managing to force an honest answer from Daryl. However, such assertive tactics certainly would have only further pushed Daryl away. The initiation of such an interaction hadn't been focused upon deciphering the mystery regarding the relationship between yourself and Daryl. No. Instead, it had been an attempt to somehow remedy the entire situation, for Rick to resolve the tension and begin forming a proper friendship with the other man.

Therefore, Rick had decided to rely upon the same sassy technique as Daryl had. Maybe meeting him on his level would somehow ease Daryl's stress. And besides, fighting back would only manage to expose Daryl's true feelings.

"Alright, whatever you say." Rick had muttered, a smirk of victory quivering upon his lips.

You were both standing at the entryway now, you fixing your shirt while Daryl was setting his heavy duffel on a side table to organize the dry goods and medicine bottles you'd gathered. His hands working methodically, tightening straps and sealing canvas pockets.

You leaned back against the closed front door, quietly watching Daryl shove the last box of pills into his bag. And before you even realized it, your gaze had wandered to his bare arms, lingering on the way his biceps flexed with each movement. Even something as simple as tightening his grip around the strap made the muscles shift and bunch beneath the surface. He slung the bag over his shoulder and straightened, the broad muscles across his back rolling beneath his shirt—

It didn’t take long before a very different idea took root.

"We finished early" You said softly, the words lingering on your tongue as you pushed yourself off the door with a slight shrug, letting the silence sit for a beat afterward.

Daryl offered a low, familiar hum in response, giving a brief nod without looking up from his pack. "Yeah. Still better head back ’fore it gets dark tho” He said, pulling the strap closed and adjusting it over his shoulder. "Nahh… We're good” You countered smoothly, taking a step closer. "I think we have some time”

But Daryl just nodded again, totally unaware, his mind still entirely focused on the work. "Mhm" He grunted, adjusting his crossbow, completely oblivious to your tone or the way your gaze had shifted.

"The house is nice, too…” You continued, stepping even closer.

He spared the place a quick, indifferent glance, clearly not caring about the decor. "’S nice" He mumbled gruffly, totally missing the hint before dropping his gaze back down to fix the hunting knife at his hip.

But you didn't back down—You took another step, right into his personal space, until the heat radiating off his body was impossible to ignore. You leaned in, placing your palm flat against the center of his chest before slowly, deliberately, trailing your fingers down the rough fabric of his shirt, moving lower toward his belt.

"Lucky us, we have it all to ourselves” You murmured, biting your bottom lip slightly.

Daryl finally paused, his blue eyes snapping up to meet yours as a small, confused frown tugged at his brows. But before he could process that, your fingers hooked on his waistband, tugging closer as you tilted your head up.

"And no one's gonna walk in…” You added softly, catching his eyes, while intentionally slowing your breathing, letting your gaze linger on his lips.

Back at the prison, especially after the crowd from Woodbury had moved in, privacy had become an absolute myth. The cells didn't have doors—just thin, fraying sheets slung over wire that did nothing to stop boots echoing down the catwalks or people constantly popping in to ask questions. With the crowded cellblock and the constant chores, it was impossible for the two of you to have a single, quiet, uninterrupted moment entirely to yourselves.

Daryl scanned you up and down, taking in that unmistakable look you had in your eyes and the sudden, heavy tension in the room—The realization hit him like a physical spark and you watched the exact second it finally clicked. His eyes widening just a little as the sharp line of his frown melted away instantly, his gaze locking onto your lips.

Fucking finally.

Without a word, Daryl shrugged his heavy supply bag off his shoulder, letting it thud carelessly to the floor. His large hand swept out, his broad arm wrapping tightly around your waist to yank you flush against his chest, while your own bag clattered on the wood.

He leaned down, his mouth crashing onto yours in a deep, bruising kiss that immediately turned into a heated, passionate, breathless make out—It was desperate and demanding from the first second. He tasted like rain and salt, his tongue tangling with yours with an urgency that made your knees weak.

With a low groan, his arm hooked securely under your thighs and hoisted you off your feet, his strength taking your weight without a second of hesitation. You wrapped your legs around his waist in an instant, clinging to his shoulders as he held you effortlessly with one powerful arm. Your hands buried in his hair as the kiss deepened, your tongues brushing together in a frantic, unhurried rhythm that had been building up for days.

Without breaking the kiss, his lips moving hungrily against yours, Daryl turned and carried you toward the staircase, holding you tightly against him while still carrying his crossbow in one hand, his fingers remaining curled around the grip. He walked up the steps smoothly, his heavy boots thudding against the wood as he carried you up to the second floor as if you weighed nothing at all.

At the top of the landing, Daryl didn’t miss a beat, kicking the door of the bedroom wide open. The door swung inward with a hard slam, the force knocking back the locked-in walker behind it and sending the snarling corpse stumbling backward a few feet onto the bedroom rug.

But Daryl didn't even drop you. Still holding you tightly against him, he raised the crossbow with his free hand, aiming toward the shadow. He let the bolt fly, the heavy snap of the string echoing in the room as the arrow buried itself deep into the walker's chest.

The corpse staggered but kept creeping forward, its jaws snapping air.

Daryl started to turn his head just slightly, breaking his focus from you so he could get a clear line of sight to finish it—But before he could pull away entirely, your hand reached out, cupping his jaw hard to turn his face back to you, pulling him right back into the kiss.

With your legs still locked around his waist, you reached down, your hand slipping his hunting knife straight out of the sheath on his belt and without even breaking contact with his lips—You whipped your arm back and threw the blade across the room. It flew straight and true, sinking with a heavy, wet thud right into the walker's forehead. The corpse collapsed instantly to the floor, dead before it hit the rug.

Daryl pulled back an inch, a rough, breathy rumble escaping him against your mouth. "Jesus, woman”

He carried you the remaining few steps to the mattress, finally letting his crossbow go and clatter to the floor. He laid you down on the dusty sheets, his heavy body immediately shifting his body over yours and pinning you down.

And the second your back hit the mattress, you didn't waste a single moment. Your hands immediately darted down to his waist, your fingers almost trembling with urgency as you worked fast to unbuckle his heavy leather belt. But before you could get the thing off—Daryl’s hand came down over yours, catching your wrist and stopping your fingers right mid-motion.

"Nah, uh" He grunted out softly as he pulled back just enough for your lips to part, his gaze locking on yours. "Ya said it yarself...” The corner of his mouth tugged upward ever so slightly, his thumb brushing lightly along your side. “We got time”

A soft, impatient whine escaped you, a small pout tugging at your lips as your fingers twitched restlessly against the metal of his buckle, still trying to push past his grip. "Daryl..."

He just let out a quiet huff, gently catching your hands and pushing them back up, pinning your wrists loosely above your head. He leaned down, capturing your lips once more in a deep, lingering kiss before his mouth slowly began to travel downward.

His rough jaw dragged along your cheek, his hot breath brushing against your skin as he pressed a slow, heavy trail of kisses down the side of your neck. Every press of his lips was deliberate and unhurried, making your skin tingle as he moved lower over your collarbone, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your flesh.

"Wanna taste ya first" He mumbled lowly against your bare skin, his hands releasing your wrists to slide down your sides.

His mouth glided over the hem of your top, trailing warm, breathless kisses down your stomach, sending a sudden shiver straight through your core.

He dropped on his knees, quickly working your boots off one by one and letting them hit the floorboards with heavy thuds. Slowly, deliberately, his hands moved up to unbutton your shorts, easing the denim down your thighs before tugging them completely off, leaving you in just your top and your lacy panties.

But instead of rushing, Daryl stayed right there between your legs. His dark head dipped down, and he began pressing soft, warm kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, right near the hem of your lace. He lingered there, his stubble grazing your skin as he took his sweet time.

"Mm, Daryl—Stop teasing” You breathed out, your hips twitching restlessly against the sheets.

He ignored you completely. With a quiet, dark huff against your skin, he shifted his focus, moving over to press more slow, lingering kisses along your other thigh, avoiding what you actually wanted.

“Please…” A quiet, desperate whine escaped you as you looked down at him with pleading eyes.

Finally, Daryl slid his hands up your hips, taking the waistband of your panties between his thumbs before slowly, unhurriedly, he dragged the soft fabric down your legs and tossed it aside.

But even then, as you lay completely bare to him, he didn't dive right in. He rested his hands firmly on your thighs, pressing another warm, slow kiss just inches away from your core, pulling another sharp gasp from your lungs. "Daryl, I swear—"

But before you could even finish your sentence… he dipped down, burying his face between your legs.

A loud, sharp gasp ripped from your lungs, your lips parting as a helpless, breathy moan echoed through the quiet room. “Fuck—!”

His hands parted your thighs widely, his tongue sliding through your folds, tasting you with a fierce, driving hunger that made you grip onto the worn sheets helplessly. He didn't hold back—his mouth working over you like a starved man, like a man who hadn't eaten in days and was finally getting his favorite meal, taking you in with a fierce, relentless devotion.

He didn't give you a rhythm either.

He edged you on purposely long, filthy licks that had you panting, then sudden hard sucks that had your eyes rolling back. His tongue circled your clit in tight, precise strokes, then dragged lower, pushing inside you just enough for you to feel it before retreating again.

Your back arched up off the bed just slightly before collapsing back down, every muscle in your body locking up as your fingers frantically curled tighter around the rough bedding, knuckles turning white. His tongue circled your clit again, then flattened against it, applying just enough pressure to make your entire body convulse.

“Mmhg—right there” You moaned out, your hips unconsciously bucking up against his face, trying to chase his mouth in a desperate attempt to tip yourself over the edge. Daryl groaned against your core, the vibration sending another shock of sensation through your nerves.

"Quit movin’" He mumbled gruffly against you, his voice thick and deep as his hands clamped down tightly on your thighs. His broad, calloused palms locking you in place with an unyielding grip, holding you still as your body tried to squirm.

You whined again, your hips shaking and twitching involuntarily against the sheets as his tongue pressed harder around the small ball of nerves. You were shaking, thighs trembling under his grip, every breath a broken sound.

“Ya taste s’ good” Daryl mumbled quietly—though it sounded more like a thought spoken aloud than anything else— and his tongue was back on you in a second, persistently lapping at your now very swollen clit.

You could only whimper softly in response, your hands scrambling blindly across the mattress for leverage until your fingers tangled tightly into his dark hair, gripping him close. "Mm, Daryl—" You gasped out, your voice breaking into desperate, breathy whimpers as the sensation overwhelmed you. "God, don't stop”

He didn't.

His hands squeezed your thighs before trailing up to your waist and pulled—No, yanked you more firmly against his face, his rhythm now growing entirely unhinged.

You were just a panting and whining mess, completely helpless under his grip. And as if that wasn’t enough—Daryl brought one hand up, pressing his palm down firmly over your lower stomach. The sudden pressure hit the exact knot of tension building inside you.

Your body reacted before your mind could, the intensity almost too much and your knees instinctively squeezing shut around his head, but Daryl didn't hesitate—without saying a word, he forced your thighs apart again, holding you open, even wider than before.

"Daryl, please—" You whimpered, your fingers gripping his hair even harder—so hard you were sure it had to hurt, yet Daryl? He didn't even react. Didn’t pull back an inch. "'M close—Fuck! So, so close"

The moans you were letting out were downright sinful. The pleasure almost blinding. You threw your head back in sheer pleasure, gasping frantically for air—only to be met with your reflection staring right back at you through a mirror standing right in the corner of the room.

How had neither of you noticed this earlier?

From that angle, the reflection was flawless, capturing the entire bed in vivid detail. Through the blur of your own heavy breathing, you locked eyes with your own image, your mouth parted wide, your chest heaving, rising up and down rapidly as you took in the sight of Daryl’s dark hair buried firmly between your thighs, holding you pinned through the rush.

Your breathing grew faster and faster. The combination of the visual and the way Daryl’s mouth sealed over your clit and sucked hard, drove you straight over the edge.

Your back arched high off the sheets as the built up tension finally snapped. Your eyes shut for just a moment, a breathless moan escaping you as you came undone with a cry of his name, your thighs trembling as he rode out your orgasm.

The slick, wet noises continued as he worked you through your high, his tongue savoring every last drop of your release and your body slowly sank back into the mattress, your eyes fluttering open to the same reflection staring back at you.

Slowly, Daryl lifted his head. His breath hot and heavy against your inner thigh as he wiped a thumb across his lip, his blue eyes tracking yours up to where you were staring. He paused for just a second, staring at the reflection of your wet, parted skin and your legs wrapped over his broad shoulders before his gaze caught yours in the glass

"Well, look at that" He mumbled against your inner thigh, a rough, possessive smirk pulling at his lips

You looked down at him, chest heaving as you caught your breath. Daryl gradually leaned in, pressing a small kiss right on your mound before trailing upward, his lips brushing over your stomach, then between your breasts, and along your shoulder to your neck, drawing a soft sigh from you.

When he was finally close enough—He paused. His lips lingering just above yours, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

Without thinking, you instinctively leaned up, desperate to close the small gap between you, but just before your lips could make contact—With a swift, smooth movement, he flipped you over onto your stomach.

A small gasp escaped you as your face planted briefly into the mattress. But before you could even gather your thoughts, his hands clamped around your waist, yanking you roughly back toward the edge of the bed, another sound slipping out.

Without a word, you watched him through the mirror as he shifted his weight, the metallic snap of his belt buckle echoed in the room before he frantically shoved his jeans and boxers down his thighs at the same time, letting them pool at his ankles. His cock already hard and pulsing, pre-cum leaking from his tip as it slapped against his stomach.

Then, suddenly, without so much as a warning, his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you upright until you were kneeling on the bed, your back pressing flush against his broad chest. A small whimper escaped you as you hit the solid warmth behind you, your eyes never leaving the glass, watching as he leaned closer. His mouth pressed a slow, heavy trail of lingering kisses all along your shoulder and up the sensitive line of your neck.

“Couldn’t even wait t’ get back to the prison, could ya?” He rumbled quietly, his stubble scraping against your skin, sending shivers right through your whole body.

A soft, desperate whine slipped from your lips, your breath coming in shuddering hitches and before your mind could even catch up—your hips instinctively pushed backward against him with an impatient, almost pathetic need.

Daryl let out a low grunt against your shoulder, his teeth grazing lightly against your neck as his hands tightened on your waist to keep you grounded. "Always s’ damn needy..." He rasped out.

"Daryl, please..." You whimpered, biting your lower lip slightly as you locked eyes with him through the mirror, your gaze filled with raw need. Yet, he stayed right there against you, taking his time to press another slow kiss to your shoulder, keeping the tension coiled agonizingly tight.

"Please..." You breathed out again, completely unable to hold back any longer.

Slowly, his hand left your waist to grab at his slick cock before moving it to your entrance. His tip slid against you up and down teasing before steadily pushing into you. Your walls tightened helplessly around him, small, pitiful whimpers escaping you at the slightest stretch. Though it didn't seem like he cared. He continued to slowly push himself all the way into you, your mouth dropping open as you gasped again, attempting to hold in the loud moans you desperately wanted to let out.

“Fuck…” You breathed, the word barely more than a whisper as you adjusted to the feeling of him stretching you, your breath faltering for a moment.

He nearly withdrew completely, leaving only the very tip before one sharp thrust drove him back into you. Your body jolted from the force, the air punched clean from your lungs as his hands clamped tighter around your hips, holding you firmly against him. “Fuck—!” You cried out, your hands trying to find something to hold onto.

But before you even had the chance to recover, he set a punishing pace, each thrust following the last without warning. His grip never loosened, keeping you steady against him as each movement forced your body to follow the relentless rhythm he’d set. In the mirror, you could see every movement-the slick sheen of sweat on his neck, the dark focus in his eyes as he looked up into the glass, watching the way your body reacted to every hit.

"Look at ya" Daryl rasped out, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent shivers straight down your spine. His hand reached around your front to grip your waist, anchoring you tight against his thighs as he set a faster pace. "Can't even take yar eyes off, can ya?"

“Daryl…” You moaned, your eyes fluttering shut, your head falling back against his shoulder as the intense image completely overwhelmed you.

“Nah, uh, uh—” His hand quickly reached up, his fingers cupping your jaw firmly to tilt your head back up toward the glass. "Keep 'em open” He ordered roughly, his grip tightening just slightly as he thrusted deeper. "Wanna see ya watchin'” He rumbled low, his voice thick against your ear.

You obeyed immediately with another whine, staring straight into the mirror at the reflection of him holding you. "Look at yar pretty face” Daryl mumbled against your skin, his grip on your jaw easing back down to your waist.

But as his thrusts turned even harder, reached even deeper—He kept knocking your body forward with each sharp rock of his hips. And no matter how much he tightened his arm around your waist, no matter how hard he tried to keep you steady, keep you pinned against him—Your body was, still, jostling too much. Seeing that you, too, struggled to stay upright, small, clearly frustrated whines escaping every time your body got jerked away—He shifted his grip.

His free hand left from your hip, his arm coming around your neck in one smooth movement and settling into a firm, but loose enough headlock, pressing you tighter, steadier against his chest, locking you in place.

You couldn’t stop the loud moan that left you. The sudden feel of his thick bicep squeezing your face, his arm solid around your neck—not tight enough to hurt or restrict your breathing, but hard enough to keep you trapped—made you instinctively lean into him, your walls spasming violently, humiliatingly around him, swallowing him in like a damn vice.

A low, heavy grunt escaped his throat right against your neck, feeling the sudden tension in your body. "That do it for ya?" He rasped out against your skin, his voice thick and rough.

You just nodded helplessly against his arm with another breathless, broken whine as your hands came up to grasp his forearm. Not trying to push him away, no— Clung to him, your nails digging into his skin for dear life as his hips snapped forward again, burying himself to the hilt.

Daryl let out a quiet chuckle against your cheek, his lips dragging closer to your ear before softly biting at your earlobe. "Little freak..." He whispered roughly, feeling you tighten around him again. "Ya like tha’?" He let out a another breathy laugh, holding you in place as he dragged himself all the way back, stopping just before his tip slipped out.

"Daryl, please—!" Your words barely had time to linger before he slammed back into you with one hard thrust, his groan breaking into a whimper as the motion sent a wave of electricity through both your bodies. "Fu—uh—ck! " You whimpered, the intensity too much to bear.

His eyes never left you as his large hand traveled slowly from your waist, catching the hem of your shirt and pushing it upward. His palm settled over your breast, giving the soft weight a single, deliberate squeeze—just to tease—before his touch wandered downward again. His fingers skimmed over your stomach, lingering for only a moment before continuing lower, his hand finally settling between your thighs and cupping your, soaked, heat.

“Mmhg, Dar—” Your breath hitched as his fingers slid between your drenched folds, moving with practiced certainty and instantly finding your sensitive clit.

His fingers worked in firm, deliberate circles, the rhythm of his hand matching the relentless pace of his hips almost perfectly, not giving you a single moment to catch your breath. A broken cry ripped from your throat, raw and desperate enough to sound almost obscene.

“’S too much—God don’t stop” You barely even knew what you were saying anymore. The combination overwhelming, leaving you struggling to put together any kind of coherent thought, your back arching once before colliding with his chest again. “C’mon. Let go f’me” He mumbled lowly, his own breathing becoming erratic.

Your lips fell open, unable to quite close again as your breathing grew increasingly uneven. Every shaky inhale seemed to dissolve into another breathless moan, another soft, broken whimper slipping freely from your throat before you could catch it— Yet your body still moved instinctively with his, meeting every movement instead of retreating. You took everything he gave you, only to find yourself wanting more, your hands gripping onto him as though you couldn’t get close enough.

He thrusted into you again, his tip hitting against your g-spot, forcing the air out of your lungs. The stretch burned in the best way—thick, relentless, filling you completely as his hips slammed flush against your ass. He stayed buried for a second, breathing hard through his nose before pulling almost all the way out, only to drove back in harder once again.

“Fuck—'M close” Another loud moan slipped from you, your eyes struggling to stay open as you fought through the haze, forcing yourself to keep your gaze on your reflection—just like he’d ordered you to. “Yeah?” He teased, his mouth going back to trailing wet kisses across your shoulder. “Mmm”

But before you could catch your breath—He repeated the action. The wet sound of it filling the room, filthy and loud, echoing off the walls. It was impossible to ignore, mixing with your ragged breathing and the low sounds coming from him.

A loud cry tore from you, so loud you were almost certain it could’ve been heard from two blocks away. “Ya have t' keep it down, sunshine” He mumbled, though he, too, struggled to hold back his own sounds. “Gon’ attract a whole damn herd”

And so, to muffle your resounding, echoing cries, you leaned forward, sinking your teeth straight into his thick bicep. “Christ—!” Daryl let out a low, guttural groan at the bite, his pace quickening as he drove deeper, his breath hot against your ear as his cock pulsed uncontrollably.

“Bitin’ like a damn walker, ain’t ya?”

The teasing words only made you arch into him harder, sink your teeth deeper, so deep you swore you could almost taste blood. Yet your eyes remained locked, watching yourselves in the mirror as the friction built to a fever pitch, your pussy clenching desperately around him and causing him to release an involuntarily, loud moan.

His hips stilled just a moment, enough to let you register the pause, then slammed into you with punishing depth and precision. “I know yar close, angel. Just let go f’me” Every drive, every roll of his hips dragged along every swollen nerve inside you, the muscles of his arm tensing under your teeth as he pushed into you over and over again.

“That’s righ'” He felt it, your walls weakly tightening around him and still, he didn't ease, pushing deeper, chasing every last spasm of sensation while drawing out his own edge. “That’s it”

Slowly, your teeth released his flesh, and through the glass, you instantly caught sight of the unmistakable mark you had left behind—a deep, imprint of your teeth framed by red, broken blood vessels beneath his skin. A thin trail of your drool running freely down his arm, but Daryl didn’t seem to give a single damn about it, keeping his grip entirely firm around you as his hips snapped against yours once again.

“Daryl—!” Your mouth fell open. A loud, broken moan tore from your throat, his name barely recognizable between your ragged breaths, your walls tightening and releasing around him, spilling your release down his cock.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, your chest heaving rapidly as you struggled to catch your breath, every inhale coming shaky and uneven. Your thighs trembled beneath you, your legs shaking so badly that you could barely keep yourself upright, clinging to him helplessly just to steady yourself.

Your mind completely turned off, utterly blank and lost in the haze, barely registering anything around you except the sound of Daryl’s ragged breathing against your ear. “Fuck—” His pants grew louder, his control slipping, unable to hold his sounds back as your walls squeezed him tighter.

Then, suddenly, while still completely dazed and lost in the aftermath, his arm unwrapped from around your neck. And before you could even process what’s happening, his heavy palm pressed hard into your upper back, shoving you straight down against the mattress. You gasped as your chest hit the worn sheets, left bent over the edge of the bed as he kept control, maintaining the same overwhelming pace.

“So good f’me” His voice was broken now, his chest colliding against your skin with every harsh movement, dragging you back onto him to meet his thrusts. You didn't answer, just kept whining, moaning with every deep shove of his cock inside you.

You cried out as he buried himself all the way in again. Your stomach caved, your back arching helplessly. Every nerve was on fire. Your pussy dripping, twitching around him, every stroke pushing more of your release down your thighs, and still—He dragged his cock out slow, just to slam back in harder, your whole body jolting.

“C’mon, baby…” You whispered softly between whines, urging him, and his hands dug painfully tight into your hips as his composure completely broke. His pace turned desperate and sloppy, the smooth control he usually kept shattering as he chased his own high.

He leaned over your back, his forehead falling heavily onto your shoulder, eyes dropping to watch you take his whole length. He was the loud one now—raw, breathy groans and ragged whimpers escaping his throat right into your neck as he buried his face in your skin.

“Inside—Please, Daryl, I need it” You mewled, titling your head slightly, gasping shakily as you pressed your cheek against the mattress. “Mm, I need it, please” You pleaded with another soft whine, purposely tightening around him just to push him over the edge.

And that did it.

With one final, heavy thrust, Daryl buried himself deep, a low, strained whimper breaking from his chest as he held you pinned tightly under him, his broad chest rising and falling heavily against your back as the intense quiet of the empty house settled over you both once more.

For a long, breathless minute, the only sound in the abandoned room was the slow rhythm of your shared panting, his warm breath puffing in slow, damp bursts over the sensitive skin of your shoulder. The full, comforting weight of his body pressed flush against your back before, slowly, Daryl let out a low, breathy exhale, shifting his weight to roll onto his back, crashing heavily onto the mattress beside you.

"Fuck” You rasped out, your voice low and muffled against the sheets as you tried to catch your breath. "I needed that” Daryl grunted in response, staring up at the cracked, faded ceiling plaster as his chest rose and fell in heavy lulls. "Yeah… Figured” He let out a low, rough huff.

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, shaking your head as a quiet scoff escaped you. “I think we should stay here for a little longer” You said quietly, letting out another heavy breath before settling more comfortably against the bed.

“Yeah, right” Daryl let out a quiet half-scoff, turning his head just enough to glance over at you. “Way you were moanin’, coulda sworn ya were tryin’ to call every damn walker in the area over” His brow hitched, his rough voice still husky with exertion. “Probably got a line of ’em waitin’ outside by now”

You scoffed, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to look at him. “As if I was the only one being loud” You fired back, rolling your eyes playfully once again before shifting your weight. "Plus—From what I recall, it wasn’t exactly my fault" You added, looking down into his dark eyes with a knowing look.

Daryl didn't chuckle; he just scoffed again, a low, dry sound in his chest. “Oh, yeah?” He lifted his arm slightly, turning his arm so the light hit the deep bite mark on his bicep, the imprint of your teeth still clearly visible against his skin. "Tha’ ain't yar fault either, I suppose?" He gestured toward it with a mocking little tilt of his head.

You leaned in a little closer, tilting your head with a dry, teasing smirk. "Mm, pretend like you didn't like it” You mumbled, your eyes, purposely, lingering on his lips for a second longer than necessary before slowly returning to his.

Daryl huffed, turning his face away for a second with a quiet twitch of his jaw. "Didn't say that” He muttered back, his voice dropping into a low, gruff grumble, like he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of hearing him admit it.

Yet you simply ignored him, rolling your eyes once again before leaning in to meet his lips. And for all his grumbling, Daryl kissed you back without hesitation.

Your lips moved gently against each other, falling into a natural, unhurried, open-mouthed rhythm. His hand came up, his broad, calloused palm gently cupping the side of your face, his fingers threading into your hair as his thumb dragged over your cheekbone. He pulled you in closer, deepening the kiss into a slow, heavy slide of lips and tongue that tasted like sweat and raw relief, taking his time as you sighed against his mouth.

When, suddenly, the heavy sound of the front door downstairs creaking open filled the empty house—

Both of you froze instantly.

The warmth in the room vanished in a fraction of a second. The kiss broke as you pulled back, your breathing instantly halting as your eyes locked onto Daryl's. He stayed completely still, his hand dropping from your face as his eyes narrowed toward the bedroom threshold.

Downstairs, heavy boots scuffed against the worn entryway floorboards.

"Ya sure you heard somethin' in here?” A coarse, skeptical voice muttered, the sound echoing up the stairwell. “Yeah, man, I told you!” A second voice joined in, followed by a sleazy, low chuckle that made your skin crawl. "Bitch was moaning like a fucking animal in heat—Heard 'em clear from the treeline”

The voices echoed through the house—And you and Daryl didn’t waste a second, moving in dead, silent instinct, sliding off the bed without letting the mattress spring—You quickly grabbed your panties off the floor, stepping into them and pulling them up before pulling your shirt back down over your ribs. Beside you, Daryl reached for his boxers, yanking his jeans up his legs right after but leaving the fly completely unbuttoned and undone in his hurry.

"Shit... look at this!" A third voice chimed in from the doorway downstairs, the distinct sound of heavy canvas straps rustling hitting your ears. "These packs are fucking loaded!"

Daryl stepped around the bed, his movements fluid and frantic as he snagged his crossbow off the floorboards, pulling a bolt back to lock it into the groove with a quiet click. You reached right for his waist, slipping his heavy hunting knife straight out from the sheath attached to his still unzipped jeans.

"Let’s go upstairs!” The second guy snickered downstairs and you heard the creak of leather boots shifting toward the base of the staircase. "Those idiots are probably passed out by now”

"What, just like that?" The first guy asked, his footsteps scuffling near the bottom step.

"Yeah. Put a blade through the guy's throat real quiet" The second voice replied smoothly, his tone sickeningly casual as the heavy thud of his boots hit the first wooden step. "Then we take turns on the bitch. Hear how good that pussy sounded from the street?—Least she can do is share”

Daryl’s body paused for the briefest moment at the words. His jaw tightened, shoulders tensing as his pulse kicked hard beneath his skin. His brows drew together, his fingers curling slowly into his palm as a hot rush of anger shot through him. His mind already running through exactly what he was going to do to that fucking prick.

"Hell yeah!" The third guy chuckled from down near the door, staying behind. "Go on up. I'll guard the gear”

With the knife in hand, you stepped lightly over the floorboards, taking position right beside the doorframe in the dark shadow of the wall. Daryl stepped up right behind you near the threshold, his knuckles white around the frame of his crossbow, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles in his neck stood out like wires.

The boots came up the stairs slowly—step by step, creak by creak—accompanied by quiet, arrogant chuckles.

The second the lead guy cleared the top landing, his shadow breaking over the doorway, Daryl exploded out of the bedroom.

"Fuck, he's awake—!" The guy gasped, but he didn't even have time to raise a weapon before Daryl slammed straight into his chest, tackling him hard against the hallway wall.

The second intruder—holding your hunting knife that he’d stolen straight out of your supply bag downstairs—rushed you immediately. "Fucking dumb bitch!" He hissed, his face twisted as he brandished the stolen blade. “Hey!” You narrowed your eyes, backing up a fraction as you raised your chin with a sharp smirk. "That's my knife!”

"Oh, you want it, bitch?" The guy spat, lunging forward with a nasty grin. "Then take it!"

He tried to slice wild straight at your throat, but you dodged clean back, the blade missing you by an inch. However, the space was too tight. His heavy free fist swung around and caught you hard straight in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of you instantly, pain flaring hot as you staggered back against the wall with a gasp. But the adrenaline surged through your blood before the pain could sink in. You bit through it, driving Daryl’s knife forward with a hard, brutal swing, slicing a deep, jagged line clean across the man's forearm.

The guy screamed out a filthy curse, dropping your blade from his hands as blood sprayed onto the floorboards, and he lunged at you again with absolute murder in his eyes.

Right as you dodged his arms, your gaze flicked back to Daryl—who had his problem pinned against the wall. He was raining heavy, brutal fists into the man's face. And in just a second, the idea clicked— Mid-fight, as your guy reached for you again, you darted sideways, your hand snatching Daryl’s heavy leather belt right out of his belt loops.

Daryl caught the sudden tug at his waist and threw you a quick, bewildered glance, but he didn't have time to pay attention as his own guy started swinging back.

Meanwhile, you went straight back to fighting your dude, the heavy leather strap taut in your hands. Taking advantage of the opening while he reeled, you whipped the belt over his head and locked it tight around his neck. Turning on your heel, you pulled with everything you had, walking backward and dragging him with you step by step. He thrashed wildly, hands clawing at his throat for air, until your back slammed hard against the wall, pinning him in a ruthless chokehold.

The guy swung again, but this time his fist caught Daryl across the cheek. His head snapped to the side, but he barely reacted before swinging back, his fist connecting hard with the man’s jaw. The guy stumbled, only to lunge at him again, throwing another punch, but Daryl caught his arm, shoving him back, and droving another quick hit into his face before the two of them stumbled into the wall. "I'm gonna gut you, bastard!” The intruder snarled frantically, spitting blood on the floorboards. “Then I'm gonna fuck your bitch really nice—!"

Daryl’s eyes went pure, lethal red. Adrenaline surging through his veins so fast he didn't wait to load another bolt—he drove the sharp wooden tip of his crossbow bolt straight through the guy's jaw, pinning his head to the wall and ending him instantly.

"Daryl!" You gritted out through your teeth, straining to hold the choke firm against the guy's desperate kicks.

Daryl spun around in an instant at the sound of your voice, his breathing wild as he saw you struggling to keep the guy still. His body reacted on pure instinct, and without a single hesitation, he instantly raised his crossbow, took aim in a split second, and fired point blank—The bolt sank straight into the guy’s forehead.

The man went dead weight instantly, collapsing onto the floorboards in a limp heap as you let go of the belt.

You stumbled just slightly as you pushed yourself off the wall, bending down to snatch your knife from the bloody floor. “My knife” You muttered, throwing the now dead asshole a kick straight to his ribs before moving along with Daryl out of the room and at top of the stairwell landing.

When, the third guy—whose stupid ass had just started scrambling up the steps to check on the noise—froze at the top step, his eyes widening in absolute horror. "Wait—fuck, don't—!"

But before he could pull a gun or turn to run, you lunged forward and buried the knife deep into his chest. And in the exact same breath, Daryl charged up from behind you, kicking the man brutally straight in the gut and sending him tumbling backward down the entire flight of stairs.

His body crashed off every step until his skull hit the hardwood floor at the bottom with a loud, sickening crunch. Blood spilled out over the entryway floorboards as he lay still.

A heavy, ringing silence fell back over the house.

You both just stood at the top landing—you still wearing just your shirt and panties while Daryls undone jeans ride low enough to reveal the waistband of his boxers— trying to catch your breath while simply watching the dead body right down the stairs.

Your hands rest flat on your knees as you bent forward, panting heavily. Between the brutal adrenaline rush of the fight and the intense, exhausting session against the mattress just minutes prior, your legs felt completely weak, trembling so badly under your weight that it felt like a total miracle you were even standing at all. You were overwhelmingly thankful for the adrenaline keeping you upright.

Without taking his eyes off the stairwell, Daryl reached out and tapped you slightly, gently with the back of his hand against your thigh. "Ya alrigh'?" Breathing deeply, you gave just a small nod. "Yeah”

You straightened up slowly, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. "Are you?" You asked, your gaze still fixed down at the corpse before as Daryl grunted, giving back another single nod. "Yeah…”

After what felt like a very long second— "You think this is our sign to stop fucking on runs?" You asked breathlessly, a tiny, adrenaline-laced smirk tugging at your lips through the sweat as you slowly turned your head to look at Daryl beside you.

Daryl’s chest heaved as he stared at the body below, his hands still shaking slightly from the rush. "Yeah…” He gave a single, quiet nod before slowly, raising his head to look at back you, his dark eyes locking onto yours instantly.

You both just looked at each other in the quiet hallway, breathing hard, everything passing between your eyes— And in a split second, Daryl closed the distance between you.

His mouth crashed hard against yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. Without a second thought, you dropped the knife to the floorboards, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck as his broad hands clamped around your waist, pushing you backward straight into the bedroom once again.

“Guess we’ll stick to that next time" You murmured against his lips with a breathless, dry smirk as he backed you up to the bed. He grunted out softly against your mouth, titling his head just slightly as a low raspy hum vibrated in his chest, his dark eyes flashing with pure heat. "Yeah…"

.✦ ݁˖ ———

The engine of the heavy motorcycle sputtered to a stop, the low, deep rumble fading into the hot afternoon air as Daryl kicked down the kickstand in the main prison yard. Dust swirled around your boots as the two of you get off, the heavy metal gates grinding shut behind you. Rick and Carol were already walking down the gravel path toward the yard to meet you, both of them eyeing the long delay.

“What took you guys so long?” Rick asked, resting a hand flat on his hip as his eyes darted between the two of you, taking in the dust, the sweat, and the sheer length of time you’d been gone. "You were supposed to be back hours ago”

"About that…" You sighed out, swinging your leg off the back of the bike before popping your back, and rolling your stiff shoulders. "We got into a bit of a trouble”

Carol raised her eyebrows, her sharp eyes taking in the way you were moving before she reached over to take one of the overflowing supply bags from the back rack. "Trouble? What kind of trouble?"

"Three assholes tried t’ jump us in one of the houses down the road" Daryl grunted out, swinging his leg over the seat, his boots hit the gravel with a heavy thud as he pulled his crossbow strap off his shoulder.

Rick’s brow furrowed, his posture instantly tense with concern. "Are you two okay?"

"Yeah" You nodded casually, running a hand through your hair before pulling it forward over your shoulders, letting the strands fall around your neck to hide the fresh, reddish marks as best you could. "We took care of them” You explained, giving Rick a small nod before turning toward Maggie and wasting little time before falling into step beside her.

The two of you padded down the corridor, heading toward the upper cells—not quite rushing, but really having no intention of lingering around the others long enough for anyone to notice the marks on your neck and realize the assholes you’d been fighting weren’t the only reason you and Daryl had been late.

Meanwhile, Daryl took the heavier crates of canned rations down the main hallway toward the armory with Carol.

As you walked with Maggie, your hand kept periodically coming up to adjust the hem of your shirt, trying to pull the fabric higher around your neck to hide the stubborn hickeys. But near the entrance of the cell block, Carol crossed paths with you two and her keen gaze dropped straight to the dark, fresh red bruises blooming along your collarbone and the side of your neck, peeking out just beneath the hem of your shirt.

She pursed her lips tightly, fighting back a knowing smirk as her eyes twinkled with silent amusement before she turned to follow Daryl toward the supply tables.

In the storage room, Daryl was busy stacking the haul, his worn leather vest leaving his arms exposed as he reached down into his canvas bag and pulled out a few cans of beans to stack nearby. But then—as he lifted another heavy bundle, the light hit his upper arm, exposing the obviously fresh, deep bite mark standing out red on his bicep.

And Carol’s eyes caught it in an instant.

She tilted her head, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips as she huffed quietly. “Huh… those assholes did that to you too?” She asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly, her hands never stopping as she continued stacking the food onto the shelves.

Daryl froze for a split second, his grip tightening around the metal rim of a can. “Mm” He gave a single, stiff nod, deliberately avoiding her gaze as his hands moved straight back to stacking the beans onto the metal shelves with aggressive speed. "Fucker got a good pair of teeth”

He lied straight through his teeth, keeping his head shoved down, focusing entirely too hard on organizing the food.

Carol nodded in pure amusement, continuing to move around the selves as she shot him another knowing look, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. "Oh... was he the one who gave [name] those hickeys too?"

Daryl stopped completely mid-reach, turning into a literal statue. The tin can in his hand hovered an inch off the shelf as he slowly turned his head, his dark eyes narrowing into a stone-cold glare that could melt iron.

Yet Carol didn't back down for a second.

“Hey, hey I'm not judging! I don't blame you—Good for you two!” She said with a small shake of her head, holding her hands up in mocking defense. "Lord knows it’s damn near impossible to find a quiet place to get fucked properly ‘round here” She mumbled, nudging Daryl teasingly with her elbow. “—Not with all these people breathing down your neck” She added with a small playful grimace, a low laugh bubbling up in her throat.

Daryl's jaw clenched so tight the muscle twitched beneath his beard. "Stop”

"No, no, I'm serious! I get it!" Carol chuckled, her tone entirely too bold and shameless as she turned on her heel to head back toward the common area. "Just do me a favor—next time tell her to ease up a bit. She bites any harder, she's gonna give you rabies”

Daryl just glared hard, his ears burning bright red under his greasy hair as grunted out. "Shut up”

Carol just smiled proudly as she leaned against the frame for one last moment. "Was it worth the trouble, at least?" She spoke again, tilting her head just slightly, watching him carefully.

Daryl immediately shot her a sharp, stern warning look, warning her to drop it—But, of course, Carol didn't budge. She just held his gaze, giving him a patient, knowing look in return, standing her ground and silently waiting for an actual answer.

Daryl held her eyes for a long beat before he finally cracked, shifting his stance. He looked back at the food, staring down at the metal shelves lined with tin cans in front of him and for a moment, the room was dead quiet. Then, slowly, hesitantly and so quietly it barely carried across the concrete room—