My mercy prevails over my wrath.

Hershel's farm seemed like a damn miracle, water in a desert. The white house, seemingly unaffected by the chaos outside the perimeter, was a breath of fresh air.

The path to get here was not.

The group had been surviving on fumes, running around in desperate search of anything that could be utilized for the good of the group.

Until Sophia got lost.

The frantic, racing thoughts and constant noise of searching for that little girl nearly put everyone over the edge. Hell, even Rick was beginning to lose it.

It wasn't until Carl was shot that anyone had a clue about what lay beyond that highway.

After a few days, Carl was feeling better. And life seemingly had color again.

"Y/n, you and Daryl will work on gettin' those tents up. We're camping outside for the time bein'." Shane ordered everyone around, seemingly a distraction while Lori and Rick coped with their son's healing process.

As Shane barked orders across the yard, you glanced over at Daryl, who shook his head with a brief scoff.

"Who made him the boss?" Daryl mumbled, watching you crack up in quiet laughter.

Daryl made life a little easier. His calm demeanor, the way he was able to joke around with you, even in the darkest situations.

He never failed to make you smile.

"C'mon, these tents ain't gonna make themselves." You shoved his shoulder as you walked by to grab one of the folded-up tents from the RV.

As you began placing them, your eyes lingered on Daryl. His lean muscles flexed in the hot Georgia sun as he helped you, skin shimmering with sweat. His shirt clung to his skin, revealing the outline of his body.

If this wasn't the end of the world, you wouldn't bat an eye at the sweaty man helping you make tents. But getting to know him, helping him while you were camped out at the quarry.

You've got to see his kinder side, the one that everybody else had trouble seeing.

"S'hot out here, might wanna take this off." You smirked at him as you poked his shirt. "I sure wouldn't mind." Your banter with Daryl was always flirty, always pushing boundaries.

Daryl looked up at you from where he was securing the tent, hammering stakes into the ground. He snorted softly. "Shut up, ya' just wanna get a good look at me."

He stood up and stretched his back. "Gonna have to try harder than that."

The sun began to set across the fields and the farmhouse. The orange and yellow hues reflected off the grass and white wooden boards.

Now it was Daryl's turn to stare at you. His eyes traveled across your skin, admiring your furrowed brow as you worked.

Sweat dripping down onto your chest.

Goddamn you.

Weeks had passed since Daryl met you at the camp just outside of Atlanta. Merle just about made you throw a few punches within the first hour of you being there.

After shutting down his older brother, he got to know you in a way that he hadn't known anyone else in the group.

The tents were all set up, with Daryl's several meters away from everyone else's. "What, you don't wanna hang out with the rest of us?" You held your arms out as if you were offended by his lone wolf-ish style.

Daryl tossed you an eye roll, the corners of his mouth moving up to a smile. "Don't wanna hear the little love triangle bickering all night. Should move your tent with mine so ya' don't hear 'em." He pointed to Rick and Lori, who stood on the porch discussing something, holding hands in an oblivious manner.

And Shane was watching, brooding.

"Startin' to think you just want me sleepin' next to you." You blow Daryl a kiss, watching a bright red blush spread across his face.

"Shut up, woman." He ran a hand over the back of his head and went to go let Shane know that everything was done. You followed him, staying back to hear the conversation.

"Shane, tents are all set up." Daryl leaned against the pillar on the porch, the muscles in his arms bulging and flexing as he crossed his arms.

You nearly drooled at the sight and glanced down at your feet to give yourself a breather. Staring at Daryl put you in a trance, and you knew exactly what that was.

That feeling.

Love. Affection.

Quickly, you were brought out of it by Shane's words. "Thank you, Daryl. Swear to god we're the only ones who give a damn about survivin' out here." You cleared your throat to make your presence known.

Shane leaned over to look at you. He said nothing, moving inside to go check on Carl.

Daryl turned around and approached you with a smug smirk. "Yeah, should put in more work 'round here." He teased you with a shrug, earning himself a prompt shove.

Daryl nearly fell over, catching himself by wrapping an arm around your waist. "Nearly took me out, ya' tryin' to prove somethin'?" His laugh was confident, relaxed.

"Yeah, prove that you're an idiot." You placed a hand on his where it lay on your waist.

It was right then that Daryl realized what he was doing. He pulled his arm away, his heat leaving yours just as quickly.

For a second, you swore you could see his brows furrowed in some emotion that was indescribable.

Anger? Disappointment?

You pushed it down, taking the rest of the evening to help out the rest of the group.

Morning approached fast, and the sunrise made your eyes peek open to start another day.

Well, that and the scratching at your tent. "The fuck?" You slowly opened the zipper and poked your head out to see what was happening. An uncertain, nauseous feeling rose in you at the thought of danger approaching the group in the night.

But, when you glanced out, you were met with Daryl poking your tent with a stick to wake you up.

"You awake?" He had his crossbow slung around his shoulders.

Daryl couldn't sleep. His mind was spinning, thoughts of you surrounding him and flooding his senses. He couldn't stop thinking about you, how you looked last night as you helped him, how his hand fit perfectly around your waist.

And how you didn't pull away. He did.

Daryl could hardly think about anything but survival these days, but everything was blurred and complicated when you were around. Many nights after he met you, he'd spent lying awake on the ground obsessing over your every move.

Many nights spent with his hand.

"I am now, thank you very much." You let out a sigh and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. "Real charming, y'know. Poking me with a stick." A yawn escaped your tired frame.

Daryl just stood watching you, a giddy feeling washing over him. The way your eyes were barely open, still trying to shake the sleep from your body, made the corners of his mouth curve into a smile.

And how the strap of your tank top slid down your shoulder…

"At least get me some breakfast in bed?" You stepped out of your tent and fixed your clothes, all twisted and disheveled from a night of sleeping.

"This ain't a damn romance movie." He shook his head at your statement.

Even if he wanted to be romantic like that, the best he could do was a cooked squirrel.

And even he knew that wouldn't be the most romantic gesture.

"No? Coulda' sworn it was from the way you're lookin' at me." Eyes meeting his, you brushed your arm against him.

As quickly as the words came out, his eyes averted from yours as if you'd turn him to stone.

Daryl didn't want you to get the wrong idea, but you made it so damn hard not to fall for you. The teasing, the way you could point out every thought he was having.

It only made his denial harder to justify.

After taking a few minutes to collect some supplies for the search, you set off into the forest with Daryl to look for Sophia. The ground was uneven and rocky as you crossed creeks and large tree trunks to look for the missing girl.

"Can we take a quick break?" You tapped Daryl's shoulder and slung your backpack off of your back.

Daryl gave you a silent nod and stepped a few feet ahead to scan the safety of the perimeter. Once he confirmed it was all clear, he grabbed a water bottle from his own bag. "Need a break already?" A smirk formed on his face as he took a swig of water.

"Hey, speak for yourself. I can hear that you're out of breath." You took a sip from your own water bottle, eyeing him from where you sat below him. "Would'a thought you had more stamina…" Your voice trailed off at the end of your sentence.

From the way his jaw tightened, it seemed that your words had the exact effect you wanted them to.

Daryl clenched his fists. "I'll show you stamina, sweetheart." A shudder ran through you at the way his tone changed.

"Right now?" As much as you'd love to take him right fucking there, you both were a tad exposed in the woods.

"Nah, my tent. S'far away from everyone." Daryl wiped a layer of sweat from his brow, his whole body on fire in anticipation. "Tonight?" He asked you.

He didn't even have to ask.

"Tonight. Then you can show me what you got." Running a hand down his torso, a smirk made its way onto your face at the way his stomach tensed.

Daryl broke away first, his attention returning to the task. "Gotta keep lookin'" You felt whiplash at the abrupt change in topic, suddenly speechless.

The way he would avoid you, avoid your touch.

You'd never tell him, but goddamn did it make you feel insecure. Like the things you did just weren't enough to earn his affection.

Later that night, it seemed like Daryl was around you more. At dinner with Hershel and his family, his hand grasped your thigh firmly underneath the table.

In the back of your mind, confusion still raked through you. Maybe Daryl was acting tense earlier because of Sophia?

The sound of discussion from the rest of the group was drowned out as the feeling of his gaze made your skin heat up in anticipation.

"Still on for tonight?" Daryl leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"Yeah, but you better not be mean like you were today." You admitted, it sounded a little childish but it was true. His affection would hit you suddenly and then leave without a trace.

"Won't be too mean, promise." He pinched your thigh, a smirk plastered across his stubbled face.

After dinner, you were helping the rest of the ladies clean up and get the dishes washed. In that time, Daryl had disappeared from your view. Part of you felt this longing, an impatient rush running through you.

Because once this line was crossed, things would be different.

Eventually, everyone had settled in for the night, the sun had fallen behind the trees several hours ago.

Shuffling over to Daryl's tent, you felt nervous.

After weeks of teasing and flirting with seemingly no intent to actually do anything about it, you couldn't help but feel hopeful that maybe this would finally be your peace, your reminder that the world can still be somewhat normal.

"Psst! Daryl! You awake?" In a whispered breath, you contemplated turning back around when there was no response.

Guess he forgot.

"Shoulda' just stayed in my own place." You mumbled to yourself.

"Will ya' give me a minute, woman? Christ." He unzipped his tent to let you in. Daryl was shoving something into an empty beer bottle, his back turned partially to you.

A hot blush spread across your face in embarrassment. "What'cha got there?"

Daryl turned to face you where he was sitting inside his tent. "Somethin' I found, thought ya' would like it."

It was a small bunch of beautiful wildflowers, sprouting with blue, yellow, and pink hues on their petals. Your heart was nearly bursting as you took it from him. Sure, it was stuffed into a beer bottle, but the gesture was sweet nonetheless.

"They're so pretty! When did you find time to do this?" You set the bottle next to you and scooted closer to him, your knee touching his.

"Jus' thought they look nice, s'all." He shrugged away your compliments and wrapped an arm around you.

Daryl walked around the farm for half an hour while you were busy talking to Maggie. He figured that he should at least try to do something romantic for you.

Especially since he had been wanting you and begging himself to make a move for weeks now.

"Hm, maybe you were expecting something in return?" Your hand pressed against his chest. You knew Daryl wasn't that shallow, but the teasing made his ears flush red anyway.

His brain froze for a moment, eyes flickering down to your hand and then back up to your eyes. "What would I get in return?" His hand brushed across your jawline, eyes glancing over your lips.

The wait was too unbearable, you closed the distance with a light kiss. One that Daryl deepened almost immediately, his hands tightly grasping your waist to keep you close.

Leaning into you, his body pressed against yours as you both collapsed onto the tent floor, thin blankets being your only mattress for the time being.

But that didn't matter.

His hands were all over you, frantic and attentive. A quiet groan vibrated against your lips as he kissed you.

All restraint was lost, his stubble lightly scratching your skin as he pushed your shirt off. The kiss was messy now, his tongue slipping inside your mouth, and one of his hands cupping your cheek.

As Daryl pulled away, you could see the look on his face. His lips were a shade of pink now from his kisses, and his eyes were traveling all over your body as if he were memorizing your frame.

He leaned back in, this time attacking your neck with kisses and bites. "Can't stay away, can ya'? Been comin' onto me since we met." He wore a smirk as he shrugged off his vest. An offended expression washed across you.

"Look who's talking! I know you've been wanting this since Atlanta, don't even try to deny it." The silence gave you an answer.

Daryl huffed and pulled his shirt off, hands grasping at your hips to pull you closer. "Gonna get these off f'me?" He helped you unbutton your jeans and pull them off.

"You need help pulling a girl's pants off? Wow, very sad." You snickered to yourself, blissfully unaware of the stare he was throwing you.

Daryl had little patience left with your teasing.

"Gonna do what I promised earlier, sweetheart. On your knees." Large hands wrapped around your waist to help you flip yourself over onto your knees. A low heat grew in your core, sending an unbearable satisfaction up your spine.

His hands caressed your skin for a moment, sliding down over your ass to admire you. "Y'gonna do what I say? Or should I shut you up instead?" He unzipped his jeans, slipping them off quickly to reveal the large outline in his boxers.

You glared at him from your position, head turned to look. "We do have all night, if you really wanted to."

Daryl groaned at your words, fingers palming his erection through his underwear. "Shut up, woman." His strong hands pulled your hips against his, giving you a feeling of just how badly he wanted this.

Moaning quietly and pressing your heat against him, you were fucking dripping at the thought of him inside.

And it was obvious to Daryl when he pulled your hips away to see a wet spot on his boxers from where you pressed against him. "Fuck, such a good girl f'me." He couldn't wait any longer to see you, to see your aching core that was practically begging to take him.

He yanked off your panties and left them hanging around your knees. Dragging a long stripe up your cunt with his tongue, he tasted your arousal with a deep hum.

"Taste even better than ya' look." He pulled away to shove his boxers down to his knees as well, hands quickly returning to grip your hips with a bruising hold.

He got his revenge when he rubbed the tip of his cock on your entrance, hitting your clit and threatening to push into you.

"Daryl please-" You gasped as your plea was answered immediately. The tip of his cock pressed into your entrance, both of you letting out a heavy sigh.

This was a long time coming. Impossibly long nights alone with nothing but your hand and the thought of how he flirted with you that day; they seemed to wash away all in one fell swoop as he finally inserted himself where you both wanted him to be.

"Jesus-" Daryl let out a choked groan and pressed in further, eyes glued to the way your cunt took him so well. "So good-" he caressed your sides as he felt you struggle to relax enough to fit his large size. "So good f'me."

Leaning over you, he pressed kisses into your back and over your neck.

Gentle, but the way he stretched out your pussy was not.

Daryl gave you a minute to adjust before tapping your hip. "You good?" He was biting his lip to keep some semblance of control, but fuck the way your back was arching against him, it was almost unbearable.

After hearing a whimpered "yes" from you, he pulled out agonizingly slow. Without warning, he slammed himself back into you with one thrust, making you jolt forward with a scream.

"Holy shit!" You managed to get out before Daryl's hand found your mouth and covered it.

"Shh, can't have the rest of the group hearin'." A thought flashed into his mind as he began hard thrusts into your tight cunt with a grunt.

If only things could stay this way. Maybe there was truly some hope that he could keep you, have you near to him when he needed you. Not just for sex, but when either of you were feeling lonely.

A lover.

"Feels good-" You bit back a moan as Daryl slammed your hips back onto his cock. He hummed in response.

"I know baby, I know." He shifted his position to angle his thrusts into you, striking your spot as he mercilessly fucked you.

You stuffed his sleeping bag into your face as you screamed his name, your legs beginning to shake. Daryl was holding you up at his point, fucking into you with no abandon, like you weighed nothing.

Daryl was beginning to lose control as well, his head thrown back in pure bliss as long groans escaped his mouth that was hanging open.

Squirming against his grip, you felt the white-hot pleasure building up in you with every thrust he pounded into you. "Please-" you sobbed out, "Please don't stop!"

Oh he wouldn't dare. Not when you could barely hold yourself up from the immense pleasure, your legs beginning to close upon themselves.

Before you could collapse under his grip, he sat up abruptly.

Bringing you with him.

You were now sat in his lap as Daryl was on his knees, his hips jackhammering into you. Daryl wished he had a mirror right now so he could see the way your tits bounced as he drilled you.

Now, you were an absolute mess. Tears were flowing down your face as he held onto your ass. "Know you're close, sweetheart. Let go f'me, wanna feel that pussy cum on me." Daryl was breathless as well, his words coming out in pants as his orgasm rushed closer.

With his pleads for you to cum, your high hit you intensely. Neither of you cared about the sound anymore, with you moaning his name loudly. You practically melted in his grasp, your body jolting and convulsing in pure pleasure.

Daryl came right after you, pulling you close to him as his hips bucked up into you uncontrollably. His warm cum seeped into you, earning an appreciative hum from Daryl. "Oh-" He groaned into your neck. "Oh fuck."

A fucked-out smile spread across your face. You used all your energy to toss him another tease.

"That good, huh?"

Daryl huffed at your teasing and bit your neck gently, making you yelp.

Jerks of pleasure hit both of you as you separated briefly. Daryl wiped you off with a clean rag he had managed to find in his tent. "Says the woman who couldn't stop sayin' my name. Whole camp knows who fucked ya' now."

Daryl couldn't shake the pride that he felt in that fact.

That you were his, that you were here in front of him.

You curled up to him despite his teasing, your bare skin touching his in a way that he could only describe as freeing.

How often did two people have a real connection during the current world situation?

Daryl wrapped an arm around you and managed to cover both of you in the thin blanket he had in his tent.

"You're stayin', right?" The question sounded more like a command, but you nodded anyway.

"Since you're begging, I guess I have to." You giggled to yourself and pressed a kiss onto his stubbled cheek.

"Hush." He shook his head, letting silence fill in the gaps of your conversation.

The crickets outside were blaring, reminding you of the dark world that lay outside the tent. Small lights flared up around you as lightning bugs flew by, offering just enough light to see a smile on Daryl's face as his eyelids began to droop.

"G'night." He mumbled against your ear. The warmth from his body kept you from freezing in the night breeze as your eyes closed alongside his.

Morning broke through Daryl's tent, the early sun shining bright onto his face in a comforting warmth. But there was more warmth than he'd been used to.

Then he suddenly remembered last night. With one glance down at your sleeping body, blissfully unaware of his gaze, a knot formed in his stomach.

A new day brought new concerns, new worries.

Daryl slowly moved away from you, so as to leave you undisturbed by his movements. He stumbled to put his clothes on, his hands beginning to tremble.

Because it was all hitting him at once.

How could this ever work? How could he be so stupid?

Daryl took one last look at you, eyes ghosting over your naked body in admiration. If things were different, if there wasn't this danger hanging over everyone's heads, he'd love to wake up to this sight every morning in a nice warm bed.

But things were different. He couldn't even take care of himself, couldn't even find Sophia.

How on earth could he protect you?

Daryl unzipped his tent quietly and slipped out, fingers fumbling with the zipper as he zipped it back up.

Thoughts swirled around him faster than he could even process them, making his feet move faster to find a place of solace. Alone.

He ran his hands over his face to try to wipe away his stress, his worry. But no such luck.

Folks were dying, and people went missing all the damn time. If he gave into this feeling, this thing that the two of you shared last night, he couldn't afford to lose you.

Anyone but you.

Daryl made his way over to his motorcyle, grabbing his gun out of one of the compartments. If he was going out to look for Sophia, he'd be going alone. There's no way in hell he could even fucking look you in the eye without hurting.

Hurting inside because he couldn't be with you. You didn't deserve it, and neither did anyone else in the group.

Attachments get you killed. Can't feel sad about it if you didn't associate with them in the first place, right?

And the worst part was; he believed this could work. He picked out those flowers, thinking of you in every one he plucked out the ground. A sliver, a shimmer of hope that this could work. He fell asleep with you last night, imagining that this is how it could be every night, you curled up next to him with that beautiful smile.

What a goddamn idiot.

He jumped a mile at the sound of your voice.

"Daryl? You didn't wake me." Your voice only twisted the knife he had voluntarily stuck in his side to rid himself of the feeling he had for you.

And then, a hand was on his shoulder, fingers brushing against his vest like this was some kind of romantic greeting from his lover.

He pushed your hand off. "Didn't need to. You're grown." He stepped away, making distance between you.

"Just thought you might've wanted to take advantage of being the first two people awake." Approaching him, you placed a hand on his chest, the same way you did last night.

He flinched, as if you had burned him. "Wanted to get an early start. Been too distracted lately, probably why I couldn't find her." Adjusting where his crossbow strap sat on his shoulder, he looked in an off-direction.

"Alright, let me grab my things-"

"You ain' comin'." Daryl grunted, his jaw clenched tightly. You looked offended at that, brows furrowed in confusion.

"And why not? We could take advantage of the alone time?" You reached to grab his hand when he yanked it from your grasp.

"Will you stop trying to touch me, woman? S'bad enough what we did last night." He shouted at you, alerting some of the others who were sleeping nearby.

"Excuse me?" You were angry right back at him, as he knew you would be. You were tense as you stood in front of him, your eyes narrowed to hear his explanation.

"Ain't nothin' good can come out of what we did last night. S'best we both forget it." He got in your face this time, his finger pointed at you accusingly.

"And what the fuck does that even mean? You regret it?" Anger was racing through your veins, making your fists clench up in rage. He seemed so sweet, so different last night. What happened?

"Hell yeah I do!" He shouted, throwing up his arms in rage.

You felt the air leave your lungs all at once.

"Really? You regret everything?" Tears pricked at your eyes, more out of anger than anything. Because it wasn't just a fling. You bared yourself to him, physically and emotionally. You spent hours getting close to him, finding your peace with the man.

And he regrets it?

Your arms were crossed against your chest, your brows furrowed as you gazed harshly at him.

"Every goddamn thing." He snapped back at you.

You laughed sadly. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"You're my problem! People are dyin' every damn day. Hell, Sophia's still out there because I can't do my goddamn job and find her." He was shouting at you, ignoring the approaching group.

"Oh so that's my fault now?" You were breathing heavily now, suddenly becoming very aware of the eyes on the both of you. Rick and Shane were staring at you with a look that you could only pass off as judging.

Daryl was pacing now, his crossbow dropped somewhere in the heated argument. "Can't do a goddamn thing to save anybody 'round here! Everybody's either hurt, missing, or we lose 'em."

"And you think that's my-" You were cut off sharply.

"And I can't lose you, too!" He shouted, his voice breaking as he spat out his last few words.

Both of you just stood there. The confession hung in the air, unaddressed, unquestioned.

The silence broke Daryl from his white-hot rage, and he glanced around at the camp's nosy eyes observing him. He was near tears, his chest heaving with the emotions swimming through him.

"Show's over." He managed to speak out, albeit cracked and unsure. Daryl grabbed his crossbow and took off towards the forest.

Standing there, Carol was quick to come over to console you, or at least drag you away from prying eyes. It was difficult to process the bag of complex emotions that Daryl had dropped on you that morning.

Did he really regret it? Or was he scared of losing you?

Hours had passed since you had seen Daryl, and, from the sympathetic looks given by the other camp members, he wasn't back yet.

You were sitting out with Carol doing laundry, hanging clothing out on a line to dry it. Andrea, who was sitting on top of Dale's RV, stood up quickly.

You were a few meters ahead of Andrea, and you could see what she was looking at. It was a figure coming out of the woods.

Bloody, beaten, slow.

"Walker?" You glanced back at Andrea as she tried to look through the scope.

"Yup. I'll get that fucker." She settled into position to shoot the figure. And your eyes followed where she was aiming.

Only, you realized the walker was holding something.

"Hand me those binoculars." Carol passed you her binoculars with no hesitation.

Your heart sank into your stomach at the sight. It was Daryl.

Not a walker, but so bloody and bruised that he looked like death himself. And Andrea was about to shoot him.

"Andrea, fuck-" You tripped over yourself trying to reach her. "Don't shoot, it's not-" A shot rang out, and you turned just in time to see Daryl collapse.

And you froze. Like time itself had stopped, like nothing else mattered in that moment.

You couldn't hear anything else in that moment, just your heartbeat and your feet brushing through thick grass as you ran over to Daryl. Rick and Shane had followed, reaching him before you.

As the men were assessing what happened, you stopped yourself from joining them. A sick feeling rippled through your body.

The last talk you had was in anger, in hatred. And now you were losing him, the one person here who you felt truly understood you.

You didn't even feel the tears that streamed down your face until you could taste them on your tongue. Wiping your face, you watched through teary, blurred eyes.

Rick and Shane lifted Daryl up, carrying him across the field. His head was bleeding.

"Oh god-" A quiet sob broke out from you.

Carol rushed over. "He's alive. Look, he's alive." She pointed to the way his legs tried to keep up with how fast Rick and Shane were dragging him.

You let out a shaky, heaving breath that you had been holding in. The thought of losing him broke you. He was alive, but for how long?

Laughing sadly to yourself, you came to the realization of what Daryl meant. Why he was so upset.

Because now it was your turn to feel this. To experience the loss he feared.

After a few hours, Hershel came out to give you the news. "How is he? Is he going to be okay?" You were trembling, exhausted from the emotional journey this whole day had been.

"Thought his girl should be the first one to know. He'll be fine. He's just getting dressed. The bullet grazed him, no harm done, but he's very lucky." Hershel chuckled at the hug you gave him after hearing his news.

It made you feel warm inside being referred to as 'his girl'. But that was definitely due to the heated and very public argument you had this morning.

"I will let you know, he's very upset. I don't know exactly what went down this morning, but I suggest you give him some space for a little bit." Hershel gave you a tight-lipped smile before walking back inside his house.

You decided to listen to Hershel, even though you were practically shaking in anticipation of getting to see him. That only lasted about 20 minutes, and you were unzipping his tent to visit him.

"Daryl." You peeked inside to see him lying down, his head supported by a pillow and wrapped in a large bandage. The sight made your stomach churn.

He didn't say anything, just stared out the tent entrance with a loaded glance. You could tell he was deep in thought by the way he was biting his lip.

"Can I come in?" Your voice was soft and pleading. Hell, you probably needed this more than he did.

Daryl gave you a nod and turned to look away from you as you stepped inside.

"Fuck, she really is a good shot-" You reached to hold his head in your hands, and he didn't resist.

He just let you with no protest.

"You're never going out there on your own again. Could have lost you." You let out a deep sigh, your eyes meeting his.

Daryl felt the guilt sink in his stomach. "M'sorry for this morning. Was just scared, s'all." His eyes scanned you for any anger. He felt horrible for blowing up at you, when it was his own damn fault that he couldn't cope.

"No, I understand. I was a mess when I thought Andrea had actually shot you. Could barely breathe thinking I lost you." Daryl was your best friend and the one man you truly thought you could form a stable relationship with.

Daryl reached out to you, his fingers nudging your hand. You grasped his hand firmly, a smile growing on your face. "I thought you said you regret everything?" You questioned him, trying to ignore the flashes of last night that moved through your mind. "You really hurt me, y'know?"

"Was bein' an asshole to you." He couldn't even look you in the eyes, the guilt overwhelming him.

"Never regretted nothin'. Just wanted to push ya' away so I didn't have to lose ya'." Daryl shrugged, squeezing your hand. "M' sorry."

"You know you can't get rid of me that easily. Wasn't gonna let you." You heard him laugh, a sound that made you feel like everything could be alright again. Like you could move past this.

"Should've dragged you back here for yelling at me like that." You smirked at him, fixing the bandage and kissing his head gently.

Daryl grabbed your waist and in one move, pulled you up into his lap. A quiet yelp escaped your lips. "What're you doing?" You hold onto his shoulders for some solid grounding.

"Wanna show you how sorry I am." He looked up at you from where he was lying down.

"But your head-"

"Should'a stayed here this morning. Ya' looked so good all laid out from last night." He hummed quietly.

"Daryl Dixon, you're gonna open your stitches, stop it." You grab his cheeks in between your hands to focus his attention.

"Nah, long as you can keep your hands off my head." His hands roamed your body, traveling from your waist down to your ass, grabbing a handful and squeezing.

"Will you at least let me do most of the work? You can lay there and heal. Like you're supposed to be doing." You grabbed his hands that were pressing your hips down into his.

Daryl grumbled and nodded. "Fine. Y'gonna close the tent?" He snickers as you roll your eyes.

"You couldn't have waited until it was dark? Anybody could see us!" You crawl over to go close the tent zipper. Daryl's eyes fell to your ass, letting out a satisfied hum.

"Nope." His arrogance started to shine through again, making you smile to yourself. Finding your way back onto his lap, you felt his erection pressed against your core.

"Pervert." You pressed a kiss to his lips, one that he returned hungrily. It was gentle, his lips moving with yours slowly but in a way that let you know he was so desperate.

You slipped off your shirt, leaving you in your bra. Daryl pulled away to watch you, his hands flying up to squeeze your tits through the rest of your clothing you still had on. You quickly unclasped your bra and let it fall down your shoulders, not missing the way he let out a relieved sigh at the sight of your breasts.

"Prettiest sight ever." He grumbled, his fingers unbuttoning your jeans, eyes never leaving your chest. Daryl tried to sit up, pressing open-mouted kissed onto your tits. A quiet moan left your lips before you gently pushed him back down onto his back.

"No no, you just lay there. Let me do the work." You smirked at his annoyed huff and stood up to push your jeans off, bringing your underwear with it.

"Should be makin' it up to you, not sittin' here makin' you do everything." Daryl's lip jutted out in a small pout. He slipped off his jeans as well, shoving his boxers down to his ankles before kicking them off.

"Mmm, next time be nice, and you can have me however you'd like." You slipped back onto his lap. "Hate to say it but you got your karma." Running a finger down his chest, you stopped right at his hip. Daryl's breaths were heavy as he watched. Your teasing was driving him crazy.

His hands held your hips firmly, eyes glued to where your hand was lining his cock up with your pussy, dragging him through your arousal with a whimper.

Sinking down onto him, a loud gasp escaped both of you. You took him about halfway before you winced, your cunt adjusting to his size despite the way he was stuffing you last night.

His hands held you in place, a reminder to pace yourself. Glancing up towards him, you saw his eyes staring at you in pure awe.

After about a minute, you sank down on his cock, taking the rest of him with a heavy sigh as you tilted your head back in pleasure. "Holy shit-" you whimpered.

Daryl rubbed circles into your waist, his chest heaving as he tried to keep his composure. He could just thrust up into you if he wanted. But seeing you have control over this, over him.

It made him impossibly harder.

Before Daryl could speak, you began to slowly ride him, your cunt squeezing him tightly as you moved up and down. His head fell back onto the pillow, jaw wide open in an 'o' face.

You were barely moving and Daryl was already gone. "You like when I'm on top, huh? Like when I'm ridin' you?" You bent down to whisper in his ear.

Daryl gasped quietly as you picked up speed, your hips bouncing on his cock like you had done this hundreds of times before. "Mmhm." He whined with a quick nod.

You pressed your lips to Daryl's shoulder, desperately trying to mask your moans as you rode him harder. Daryl's hands held onto your ass and hips, helping you bounce on his cock.

The feeling was fucking euphoric. Your pussy squeezed him as you let out a high-pitched whine against his skin. The sensation made him thrust up into you instinctively.

"Oh my god-" You moaned loudly and clasped your hand around your mouth. You kept up your movements, riding him with fervor, your tits bouncing with every movement you made.

Daryl was beyond control now. His hips were bucking up into you wildly, ensuring you took all of him down to the hilt. "So pretty, so sweet f'me." He groaned as his hips pistoned into you. "You gonna come f'me, sweet girl?" His voice trailed off into a high-pitched whine, nearing his orgasm with every rough thrust he pushed into you.

"Fuck-" You cried out, hands grasping his shoulders firmly. "Yes baby, keep going please!" You were trying your best to keep up with him, to ride him without collapsing onto his body.

Pleasure ran up his spine at you calling him 'baby'. "Shouldn't have yelled at you this morning-" he cut himself off with a loud groan, his fingers trembled against your skin. "Should'a stayed here-" His forehead fell against yours.

"You mean everything-" He kept up the pace, his hips thrusting into you more than you were riding him. His hands were grasping onto your hips tightly, listening to the way you were a whimpering, shaking mess on top of him.

"Daryl please I'm so close." You pressed a kiss onto his lips, the gesture making him melt. He planted his feet and fucked up into you, his eyes shut tight. His orgasm was so goddamn close. But he had to wait.

He would not come without making you come first.

"Give it to me, please sweetheart. Need to feel you-" He was begging at this point, his skin burning with the desire to let go.

With that, your orgasm hit you hard. You screamed into your hand, body shaking and jolting with shocks of pleasure as Daryl kept pushing into you mercilessly.

Daryl was so blissed-out. Watching your orgasm made him reach his own, his arms wrapping around your waist as his thrusts slowed to a stutter. His breath was incredibly shaky and mixed with pathetic whines.

"Fuck- I love you." He groaned, the words leaving his mouth before he could process them and stop them.

You collapsed onto him, his words just starting to come to your brain. "W-What?"

His eyes widened like he'd seen a ghost. "M'sorry- fuck." He ran a hand over his face. He couldn't even say anything else. It was too late to take it back, especially with the stunt he had pulled this morning. "Don't have to say it back."

You took a beat to respond. And in that silence Daryl's heart could have pounded out of his chest.

Maybe he should have just taken it back, told you he didn't mean it, told you it was a spur of the moment emotion.

But then your hand came up to his cheek, your fingers rubbing his stubble affectionately. He melted into your hand, his eyes closing for a brief second.

"No, I love you too. Why do you think I tolerate you so much?" Your body was still trembling against him, his softened cock still stuffed inside you, cum threatening to spill out.

He lifted you off of him slowly, the both of you wincing at the cool feeling that came after. "S'why I can't lose you." He was being sincere in this moment, his eyes meeting yours with heartbreaking sincerity.

"Can't promise anything. You know that." You started, heart hurting at the way his face dropped. "But we're here now. We're safe." You placed a kiss onto his forehead.

"You have me now. And I have you. That's what matters." You were trying to get your point across.

That even though tomorrow may not be promised, you can find peace in what is here right now, in this tent.

You and Abraham were on a supply run together, rumbling through the abandoned streets in the old fire truck. The sun beat down mercilessly, but neither of you minded—survival had long since hardened you to discomfort.

You wore a pair of fitted capri jeans and a snug tank top, practical but still clinging to your frame in a way that made Abraham’s gaze linger when he thought you weren’t looking. As for him, his cargo pants and white tank top did little to hide his broad chest and thick, muscular arms, the fabric straining with every movement.

The two of you had just cleared out a small horde of walkers near an overrun gas station, leaving your clothes splattered with dark, sticky blood. The smell clung to you, metallic and rotten, making your skin crawl. You wiped your hands on your jeans, but it did little to help—just smeared the mess further.

Abraham wiped his knife clean on his pants before sheathing it, then turned to you with that usual confident smirk. "I’ll go look over there for more supplies," he said, jerking his thumb toward the back of the building. "Can you handle bein’ alone for a sec?"

You nodded, rolling your shoulders to shake off the tension. "Yeah, I’ll be fine. Don’t get yourself killed." His grin widened, and he winked. "Don’t you worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. I can take care of myself."

With that, he strode off, his heavy boots crunching over broken glass. You watched him go for a moment before turning back to the fire truck, swinging open the door and climbing inside. The truck gave you a moment of rest from the oppressive heat, and you exhaled, letting yourself relax for the first time in hours.

You unzipped your bag, going through the contents until your fingers brushed against something soft. Frowning, you pulled it out—a white lace miniskirt, delicate and entirely impractical for the apocalypse. You had no idea why you’d even packed it. Blame it on hormones, you thought with a quiet laugh.

Maybe it was the ovulation talking, or maybe it was just the sheer absurdity of life now—where death lurked around every corner, but human desire never really faded.

Birth control was hard to come by these days, and whenever you and Abe got carried away, he was careful to pull out. Not that you’d mind if he didn’t—not anymore. Alexandria was safe, stable. The idea of a little one running around, with his fiery hair and your stubbornness, wasn’t the worst thought in the world.

You peeled off your blood-soaked jeans, the fabric stiff and clinging unpleasantly to your skin. The lace miniskirt was an impractical choice, but the soft material felt freeing against your thighs.

After a moment of hesitation, you stepped out of the truck, the breeze ghosting over your bare legs as you climbed onto the roof, rifle in hand.

The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows across the empty streets. You scanned the area, finger resting lightly on the trigger, ready to pick off any walkers that stumbled too close.

Then Abraham’s voice cut through the quiet, rough with amusement.

“Hey! What happened to your pants? You givin’ the walkers a free show now?”

You turned your head, glancing down at him where he stood near the truck, arms crossed over his chest, that familiar smirk playing on his lips.

“No one’s stopping you from watching,” you teased, biting your lip.

He chuckled, deep and warm, shaking his head. “Oh hell, girl, I’m definitely watchin’. But are you tryin’ to get me killed or what? ‘Cuz Goddamn, that’s a nice view. Don’t know how I’m s’posed to focus on walkers like this.”

You grinned, shifting slightly to give him a better angle. “Then come up here. You’ll be safer with me.”

“Ain’t gotta tell me twice, darlin’,” he growled, hauling himself onto the roof in one smooth motion.

The moment he settled beside you, his gaze raked over your body—slow, deliberate—from the hem of your skirt riding up your thighs to the dip of your tank top, where the fabric clung just a little too tight. You noticed, of course, and didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened.

“Come closer, Daddy,” you murmured, voice low.

Abraham didn’t hesitate.

In one swift movement, he closed the distance between you, his calloused hand cradling your face as he crushed his lips to yours. The kiss was hot, all hunger and barely restrained need, but there was something softer beneath it—something that made your chest ache. His other hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and for a moment, the world faded.

The approaching groans of walkers was long forgotten. All that mattered was the heat of his mouth, the rough scrape of his mustache against your skin, the way his fingers tightened possessively on your hip.

Until a particularly loud snarl shattered the moment.

Abraham broke the kiss with a rough exhale, resting his forehead against yours. “Damn it not now” he muttered.

You smirked to yourself and turned back to your rifle, settling onto your stomach on the sun-warmed metal of the fire truck’s roof. Abraham’s gaze burned into you—you could feel it, heavy and possessive, tracing every shift of your body.

Deliberately, you arched your back, lifting your ass just a little higher under the pretense of adjusting your aim. “Gotta get a better shot,” you murmured, peering through the scope.

Abraham let out a low, knowing chuckle. “Uh-huh. Real tactical, sweetheart.”

You exhaled, steadying your breath, and pulled the trigger. The walker’s skull snapped back, collapsing into the dirt.

When you glanced over your shoulder, Abraham had already unbuttoned his cargo pants, freeing his cock—thick, heavy, veins standing in stark relief under the fading sunlight. Your mouth watered at the sight.

“Stay on lookout,” he ordered, voice rough.

You turned back to the rifle, pulse hammering, but before you could even pretend to focus, his hands were on you—big, calloused palms squeezing your ass, kneading the soft flesh before dragging your damp underwear aside. A thick finger slid into you without warning, and you gasped, fingers tightening around the rifle.

“Fuck, babe,” he growled, curling his finger just right, making your hips jerk. “Shootin’ walkers get you this wet?”

You bit your lip to stifle a moan as another figure shambled into view. “Abe, I—fuck—I need to—”

“What, you gonna cum already?” he teased, adding a second finger, stretching you deliciously.

You laughed breathlessly, struggling to keep your voice steady. “N-no, I need to kill walkers.”

His breath hit your ear, hot and wicked. “Then let’s see how many you can take down with my dick stuffed inside you.”

Your heart pounded—part thrill, part fear. The risk was intoxicating: the groans of the dead too close, the need to stay silent, conflicting with the way he filled you, ruined you.

And then he was pushing in, slow, letting you feel every inch. Your head dropped forward, a whimper escaping as you fought to keep your aim steady.

“Eyes forward, soldier,” Abraham rumbled, hips flush against you. “Don’t miss.”

His cock was buried so deep inside you, the thick head brushing against your cervix with every slow, deliberate thrust. The sensation was maddening—bliss edged with sweet torture.

A broken moan slipped past your lips before you could stop it, and Abraham’s hand clamped over your mouth, his grip rough but his eyes burning with dark amusement.

"Baby, don’t lure ‘em all here with those dirty sounds," he growled, breath hot against your ear. You nodded, biting your lip as he removed his hand.

He’d never fucked you like this before—agonizingly slow, each drag of his length leaving you trembling. The heat between your thighs was unbearable, your nails digging into your rifle as you whined.

"Need you to go faster, Daddy, or I’ll never cum," you pleaded, voice shaking.

Abraham smirked, the bastard, his hips rolling just hard enough to make you gasp. "Look at you," he murmured, "begging me to fuck you harder while the dead come for us."

You hated how much that thrilled you.

But he gave in, snapping his hips forward with a force that punched the air from your lungs. The sudden pace had you arching, your back pressing against the cold metal of the truck’s roof as he drove into you, relentless. Pleasure coiled tight in your belly, threatening to snap—and then the words spilled out before you could stop them.

"Cum in me, please–I need to feel you, need your warmth inside me. Wanted it so bad for so long–fuck, please–"

Abraham’s grip on your waist turned bruising. You’d never begged like that before, and the effect was instant. His rhythm stuttered, his control became ragged. Your hands, which had been clutching the rifle beside you, now scrambled for the edge of the truck as he pounded into you, the force of his thrusts making the entire vehicle rock.

Somewhere in the haze, you registered the groans of walkers closing in.

Abraham didn’t stop.

One hand left your hip, snatching up his gun in a fluid motion. A single shot rang out and a walker dropped just feet away. But his hips never stilled, his cock filling you so perfectly you could’ve cried.

Then your climax hit, sudden and overwhelming. Your walls clenched around him, a silent scream trapped behind your teeth as you bit down on your lip hard enough to taste blood. Abraham groaned, his free hand tangling in your hair as he watched your juices coat his length when he pulled out—only to slam back in, fucking you through it.

You collapsed forward, limp and weak, letting him use you like his own personal fleshlight as he chased his own release. Another walker lurched into view—bang. Another shot. Another corpse hitting the dirt.

Then, with a ragged curse, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his cum flooding your cunt in thick, pulsing waves. The heat of it was intoxicating, claiming, and for one reckless second, you never wanted him to pull out.

Reality crashed back when a decaying hand slapped against the truck’s side.