Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead.
Author's Note: This is a prompt from na-bruma-leve. Basically, she wanted JealousDaryl!
Can't Let Her Get Away
Daryl sat on the porch watching various Alexandrians heading home for the evening as the sky began to settle in the western sky. Actually, he was trying to make himself look busy fidgeting with his crossbow, but he honestly couldn't concentrate on it for more than a few seconds before something in the back of his mind was nagging at him and he was looking up again, looking around, looking for her.
The screen door swung open on its hinges and slammed shut, making him jump, and he peered over his shoulder to see Rick coming out adjusting his belt. The two men caught each other's gaze, and Rick's face turned a funny shade of pink.
"You been sitting here long?" Rick asked.
"Long enough to know that you and Michonne been in there alone the past two hours." He saluted. "Officer."
"Shit," Rick muttered. "That obvious?"
"Yeah," Daryl muttered. Rick cleared his throat and stepped off the porch. "You waiting for Carol to get home?"
"No. Why would I be waiting for Carol?" Daryl asked, feeling the back of his neck and the tips of his ears burning. And then, shit, his face was warm. Rick couldn't help the smirk that fell upon his lips.
"Alright," he said with a shrug. "Don't wait up for her. Think I heard Morgan say he was takin' her out to teach her a few of them—what're Tara and Eugene calling them?—Jedi moves." Daryl perked up then.
"She's out there?" Daryl asked, standing up and slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. "She got a gun with her?"
"I'm sure she does," Rick replied, narrowing his eyebrows. "You know she can take care of herself, right? And even if she got in a bind, Morgan's with her." He watched as Daryl's jaw tensed and twitched. "You, uh, you coming in for dinner later?" Daryl was already halfway down the sidewalk. "Uh, alright. We'll talk later then."
Sasha was on guard duty, as usual, when he approached the gates.
"You wanna open these up?" he asked, motioning with his hands.
"Why?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yeah, actually. We already have a group out on a run, and Carol's out there with Morgan. I'm not supposed to let anybody else out. It's too much of a risk to have that many people outside the walls at one time."
"Don't fuckin' care about the risks," Daryl muttered. He looked up at her. "You gonna open 'em or not?" Sasha sighed and shook her head, but he saw her gaze fix on something over the gates. "Well, looks like your luck's changing, Daryl. Here comes Carol and Morgan now." Sasha came down and started opening up the gate, and it squeaked on its rusting bearings.
Carol came in, all smiles, twirling a makeshift staff like it was a fucking baton. Morgan was at her side, smiling and chuckling, talking under his breath, saying something that was apparently really fucking hilarious, because she started laughing. Daryl couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her laugh. And she had this glow about her. Where did that come from?
"How'd it go?" Sasha asked, closing the gate as soon as they were both inside.
"She's a natural. She's just got to remember to breathe when she's listening to her surroundings," Morgan chuckled. "I thought she was gonna pass out on me for a minute." Daryl's hand shot out as Carol passed by him, and he gently squeezed her upper arm, startling her.
"You ok?" he asked.
"Yeah, Daryl. I'm fine," she chuckled, giving him a funny look.
"Daryl?"Sasha asked. He didn't look at her. "Daryl? You staying or going?"
"Stayin'. Ain't got nowhere else to be," he muttered as Carol went walking on by with Morgan at her side. Sasha furrowed her brows and shook her head, sealing the gates and locking them up tight.
Daryl walked several paces behind as Carol and Morgan talked quietly together on their way toward the row of houses. He listened to Carol laugh again as Morgan said something, and he had the urge to ask what was so damned hilarious.
"I'll see you tomorrow then?" Morgan asked brushing his hand over Carol's arm as they stopped in the middle of the street.
"Yeah," Carol said with a smile. "I look forward to it. Thank you so much for today. I had…well, I had fun." She laughed a little. "It's been a long time since I've gone outside the walls."
"And you were very good. You didn't have to use your gun once."
"I'm handy with a knife," she said with a shrug.
"And before too long, you'll have yourself one of these." He popped his fighting staff on the cement a couple of times. "You did great."
"Thank you," Carol said softly. "Thank you for everything, Morgan."
"Of course. Good night, Carol." She waved at him as he left, and as she turned to walk into the house, she caught somebody in the corner of her eye. Daryl was just standing there with his jaw open and his crossbow slung over one shoulder.
"Hi."
"Hi?" he asked.
"Yeah…that's usually what somebody says when they see somebody they know." She furrowed her brows. "You ok?"
"Great." His tense stature and the fire in his eyes told a different story.
"Daryl…"
"I'm good. You good? You have a good time out there?"
"I…Daryl?" Daryl brushed past her and headed into the house, and as soon as the door swung shut, he started up the stairs and nearly tripped over the first step.
Fuck.
The door swung open again, and Carol stood in the foyer staring up at him on the steps.
"What's the matter with you?"
"Nothin'. M'great," he replied. "Gotta get washed up for dinner." He started up the stairs then, grumbling something under his breath as he went along, and Carol sighed heavily, leaning back against the front door as she tried to figure out who the hell was walking around looking like Daryl and what the hell he'd done with her best friend.
...
"Potatoes? Carol?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you done peeling the potatoes?" Michonne asked. Carol looked down at the pot in the sink filled with freshly peeled and sliced potatoes.
"Yeah," she murmured. "Sorry." She turned the water on and filled the pot with water. She then moved the heavy pot onto the stove to boil.
"Where's your head at today?"
"I don't know," she muttered. "I was fine. I had a good day. I went out with Morgan and he was teaching me how he fights off walkers, you know? He can really get through a pack of them without even using a bullet."
"Oh," Michonne murmured, raising an eyebrow. The tone of her voice was loaded with insinuation.
"What?"
"Hmmm?" She smirked at Carol and began to sprinkle in salt and pepper and even a few bits of dried garlic that Carol had managed to persuade Olivia to fork over in trade for some delicious cookies.
"Oh," Carol murmured. Then her eyebrows rose. "Oh! No. No! Don't even think that."
"Well, why not? He's a man. You're a woman. You two are getting close, right?"
"No! Well, yes. I mean, we're friends. But that's…that's all we are. He's very kind, and he's handsome, and we have a few things in common, but…but it's not like that with us."
"Oh, really?" Michonne replied. "You go outside the walls with the man, disappear for hours? All he's doing is teaching you some moves? Fighting moves, that is."
"Oh shut up," Carol laughed, flicking her with a dish towel.
"Well, you've had a few of us wondering," she said with a shrug.
"What? Who?!" She heard a creak upstairs, and she felt a knot tighten in her stomach. Daryl's room was directly above the kitchen. "Oh. God. Wait. Does Daryl think…is that why he was acting so…"
"Carol? Speak in full sentences, please."
"Does Daryl think there's something going on between me and Morgan?"
"Well, he did sit out on the porch for a good, long time this evening," she said with a shrug. "And I don't think it was just because Rick and I were…you know."
"God, you're still in the honeymoon phase," Carol chuckled. "Just wait…it won't always be sunshine and multiple orgasms." She rolled her eyes. "Oh, who am I kidding. I've never experienced multiple orgasms. Ed's motto was one and done. One for him, anyway." Michonne's jaw dropped slightly before they both burst into giggles. When they sobered, Michonne smiled at Carol.
"This is nice," Michonne said softly. "I don't think I've ever seen you this…happy."
"I am happy," Carol said quietly. "Morgan's…well, he's been a big part of that. He's been through a lot, and we've talked about…about a lot of things. Things he's gone through, things I've gone through. We're good friends, but I don't feel that way about him."
Another creak from overhead.
"You and Daryl aren't as close as you used to be," Michonne pointed out.
"That's not true. We're…we are. It's just that thing are different now. We're here in Alexandria, he's always going off with Aaron, and I'm here. We still talk. We're still close."
"Hmm," Michonne said with a shrug.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Carol asked.
"Nothing. Just…hmmm."
"Oh, you're a big help," Carol snorted. "Come on. Help me get this roast out of the oven." They worked at getting the rest of supper ready, and when all that was left was the wait on the potatoes, Carol decided to head upstairs to get her bed turned down before dinner.
The door to Daryl's room was open, but he was nowhere to be found, and she paused at his door briefly before shrugging and heading into her room and began getting the quilt and sheets folded down so she could just slip right in. As she was working, she heard a creek on the floorboard in the hallway, and when she looked over her shoulder, she found Daryl leaning against the doorway.
"Hey," he said quietly.
"Hey yourself," she replied, turning away to finish straightening the covers. When she was finished, she turned and sat down on the edge of the bed with a hint of a smile on her face.
"M'sorry for how I acted earlier."
"I don't really know what to make of that," she admitted, folding her arms across her chest.
"You…you like him?" Daryl asked. "I mean…are you two…" She saw his cheeks grow pink as he ducked his head slightly.
"I do like him," she said with an honest smile. "He's easy to talk to." She swallowed hard. "You can come in. You holding up the door frame or something?" Daryl shifted uncomfortably before stepping into the room. He was cleaned up, but he looked pretty out of place in her very feminine room, standing there in his angel wings vest with his hair a little messy and in need of some trimming.
"You, um, you're bein' careful out there? I mean, you gotta take a gun."
"I had my gun," she promised. "And my knife. I'm just learning a few new things."
"I could teach ya the crossbow, if ya want."
"You tried, remember? The winter after the farm? That was a disaster," she snorted. Daryl smirked, chuckling a little at the memory of her nearly falling over the first time she released a bolt. She'd said it was too heavy and clunky and that she felt steadier on her feet with a gun or a knife.
"Yeah. I remember." His eyes were on hers for a moment, and then he was looking away, looking at her shoulder or something on the wall.
"I miss that," she said quietly. "The last time we really spent any time together was when we went to Atlanta to…"
"Yeah," Daryl replied quickly. "And you nearly died in the process."
"You're not still blaming yourself for that, are you?" Daryl's shoulder ticked up in a shrug, and Carol sighed softly. "God, Daryl, I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"I've been…well, and you've been busy with Aaron and Rick, and I just…I was ready to talk, and you weren't there, and Morgan was. And I didn't even stop to think that maybe you needed to talk. I just…maybe I just assumed that you were talking to them."
"That ain't on you," Daryl said with a shrug. "I ain't been ready to talk. But I'm ready to talk now."
"Ok," Carol said quietly. "We should do something tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Thought you had plans with Morgan." The way he said Morgan's name hinted at a bit of jealousy, and it made Carol's heart do silly things in her chest. She smiled a little.
"Aw, Pookie, you know I liked you first."
"Stop," he muttered, crossing his arms and biting his lip to hide a grin, reminding her very much of the Daryl that not everybody had gotten a chance to see, the fun Daryl, the softer Daryl. She missed that. Then his smile faded. "Don't joke like that." It was Carol's turn to frown.
"Daryl…I'm sorry."
"Just…don't." He turned to leave then, and Carol sighed heavily.
"Would you just talk to me, already?"
"What the hell you want me to say?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her as he threw his arms up in frustration.
"Daryl, I want you to tell me what the hell is wrong with you!" she exclaimed. "I miss how we used to talk."
"Maybe I don't wanna talk," he muttered, crossing the room toward her in two steps. "Maybe I don't wanna think about what you might be doin' with him out there." Carol raised her eyebrows.
"That's what you think? You think…Daryl, Morgan is my friend. He's a good friend, but that's it. And I really don't think I need to explain myself to you." She put her hands on her hips, and she watched as his face reddened, and he took a step back. Two steps forward, one step back.
"Just do what ya want," he muttered.
"Yeah?" she asked.
"Yeah," he replied.
"Well, alright," she said, stepping toward him. Before he knew what to say or do, she was bridging the gap between them, and she was looking up at him, those beautiful blue eyes darkening as she stared up into his. He felt his palms begin to sweat and his heart began to race, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt anything close to this, unless he counted that time he fooled around with Kasey Kendrick in the back of Merle's old pickup, but even then, he hadn't come close to feeling anything like what he was feeling now. What was she doing? Was she going to kiss him? Was she going to slap him? He honestly didn't know what to think as she stood there, those gorgeous eyes silently challenging him as they stood at a stalemate.
"What're you doin'?" he asked.
"I'm not sure," she admitted. "What do you want? What do you want me to do? What do you want to do?" Daryl stood there, mouth open slightly, and Carol sighed in frustration. "Tell me, damn it!" He took a step back then. And then he turned, and Carol felt her heart sink as he made his way to the door.
She sat back down on the edge of the bed and sighed, but when she heard the door shut, she looked up and saw him standing there with his hand on the lock. He bent his head forward, locking the door, and she noticed the way his shoulders heaved with each breath he took. And then he was turning to her, eyes dark with desire, and before she could open her mouth to ask him what was happening, he was crossing the room, leaning over her with his hands flat on the mattress. And before she could react, his mouth was on hers, and she was falling backward, and he was crawling over her. Everything happened so quickly, and she felt her legs open instinctively as he crawled over her, kissing her like she'd never been kissed before. She gasped against his mouth, closing her eyes as the warmth of his breath mingled with hers, and she opened up to him as his tongue begged at her lips, and then she was tasting him. And it felt so good. He felt so good.
And then he stopped kissing her, and he pulled back, but he was still on top of her. His face was tinged with pink, and Carol couldn't help but smirk up at him.
"Was this…all you had to say?" she teased.
"There was more, but I can't remember right now." Carol laughed then, a laugh he'd missed so much, and she gently ran her fingers over his cheek before threading them through his hair.
"Well, that's alright. So long as I've got you here…" She leaned up then, pressing her lips against his, and she sighed softly as he seemed to sink into her, pressing her back against the mattress as his hands began to roam over her shoulders and arms, gently playing with the bare skin between her pants and the edge of her ridden-up shirt. She trembled under him, but it wasn't anxiety. No, it was a need she'd felt deep for so long but hadn't been able to bring herself to act on. She'd come close a few times before, but then Hershel had been attacked, and then she'd nearly died, and then Merle died. Then he was out recruiting to bring people back to the prison. Then the outbreak. Things had never been the same, but now she felt like she was right back at that prison with her best friend, only now they were finally doing something about those teasing flirtations and those stolen glances. And he was just as sweet as she knew he'd be, just as nervous.
His hands trembled as Carol took control, urging him to roll onto his back. She climbed over him, smiling down at him as she tugged her shirt over her head and tossed it somewhere off into the corner. She took his hands in hers, gently running her fingers over his knuckles before grabbing his wrists and bringing his hands up to her waist.
"Touch me," she urged, voice low and soft as his calloused hands began to move up her sides. An anxious glance from him had her smiling again. "It's ok. I want you to." She took his hands again, guiding them to her breasts, where he tentatively kneaded them, the lacy fabric of her bra rubbing roughly against his fingertips.
"This ok?" he asked.
"Mmm," she moaned, throwing her head back a little as she grinded down against his pelvis. He moaned then, and she felt the reason why. He was getting hard, and it thrilled her that she was the one having that effect on him.
"Fuck," he panted, as she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. He tore it away from her, flinging it away. He snorted when he watched it get caught around the bedpost. But he was only momentarily distracted, because she was leaning down over him, kissing him hungrily and running her fingers through his hair until she arched her neck and let him explore her with his tongue and lips. And then he was kissing down her chest, and she gasped when she felt him suck a nipple between his teeth, gently biting down until she was writhing against his lap.
"Daryl. God." She threw her head back, and then he was flipping her onto her back, much to her surprise, and his hands were tugging at the waist of her pants. She laughed, suddenly surprised at his eagerness. She knew virtually nothing about his sex life. All she'd really known was that flirting had always made him awkward and fidgety, and it had always given her a thrill to see the blush in his cheeks, though she'd often been left feeling slightly guilty that she'd made him uncomfortable. But now, the way he was staring down at her, she wondered how she hadn't been kissing him sooner, why they hadn't taken their relationship to the next level? He obviously wasn't a virgin, judging by the way he seemed to know exactly what to do the second her breasts were in his face, but he was still a bit of a mystery.
She smiled as she felt a swarm of butterflies in her belly at the idea of being the one to learn everything there was to know about the very private Daryl Dixon. With a sigh, she tugged at his shirt, letting him know it was time to start leveling up the playing field. Thankfully, he took the hint, and he shifted to strip his vest off, tossing it aside before removing the shirt underneath. Carol smiled then, lifting her head so she could press a kiss to the center of his chest. And when she heard him inhale deeply, she trembled.
"Wanted this for so long," he admitted, laying her back down against the mattress. "Just didn't think you did, too."
"Hey, I was giving you the green light that first night at the prison, just so you know," she teased. "Do you remember?"
"You kiddin'? Some nights, it's all I can think about." He tugged at her pants.
"Yeah?" she asked. She cocked her head to the side. She'd honestly never pegged Daryl to be one to enjoy something like that so much, but apparently, he was full of surprises.
"You sure you want this?"
"Let me think about it while you take off your pants," she murmured, moving her hand around to cup his ass through his pants. He stood then, and she quickly wriggled out of the rest of her clothes before he even got his belt unfastened.
"You good?" he smirked, impressed with how quickly she'd gotten naked. But he knew it had been a long time for her, too.
"Shut up and get naked," she replied.
"You're bossy when you're all wired up," he pointed out.
"Yeah," she said with a grin. "You have no idea." She scooted to sit at the edge of the bed, and she took over stripping him, sliding the pants down his legs, boxers and all, in one swift motion. When his cock bobbed at the motion, long and thick before her face, she wanted to take him in her mouth, wanted to show him she could be full of surprises too, but right now, there were more pressing matters, and the throbbing heat between her legs wanted one thing only. "Jesus." Daryl looked down in that moment, face red with embarrassment, and Carol shook her head. "Believe me, Pookie. That's nothing to be ashamed of."
"I ain't got...I mean…" He motioned to his dick to indicate the lack of personal protection.
"Oh," she murmured. "Ed was my last, and I'm pretty sure he was faithful, because he was too busy keeping an eye on me." She cringed.
"I only ever used a rubber, and I ain't never had a problem."
"Ok," Carol said with a nod.
"But what about…"
"Not a problem."
"It ain't?"
"I had my tubes tied," she promised. "He didn't want another mouth to feed, and I didn't want to bring another kid into that mess." She reached for him. "Can we stop talking about Ed? Please?" He gently placed his hand against her cheek, and she nuzzled it. Then her hands were tugging at his arm, and he was falling over her again, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him hungrily as their bodies seemed to melt together, skin to skin, blood simmering just under the surface.
Daryl took his time, kissing her slowly, moving his hands over her body as she wrapped one leg over his hip. And he kissed down her neck and over her breasts, taking his time, needing her to feel just how much he loved her, even if he couldn't say it yet. He knew what he felt, he knew that he needed her more than he'd ever needed anybody in his entire life, but he just couldn't say it. But he could show her. He could show her just what she did to him, just how much he needed her and loved her.
And as he kissed his way down her stomach, she began to tremble. The moment he parted her legs and began to touch her, fingers slipping through her damp curls as he sought out that sensitive bundle of nerves, he knew she hadn't been touched like this before. He knew Ed Peletier had been a miserable bastard, but in all the years of being married to Carol, he hadn't once even attempted to please her?
"It's ok," he promised, kissing her hip and then the patch of skin below her belly button.
"Daryl," she panted. "You don't have to…"
"Stop," he murmured. "Just relax." He pressed his hand gently against her stomach, stroking her there as she lay back against the pillow, chest heaving and jolting slightly as she attempted to calm herself down.
He took his time with her, and if she hadn't felt so good, she'd have been surprised at the skills he had, the way he could just barely touch her and send her heart skipping away, blood boiling as the sweat broke out all over her body.
He used his lips and tongue on her, and then just when she least expected it, he grazed the little nub with his teeth, just enough to have her hips bucking against his face. And she whimpered as a part of her went soaring, as if she was watching it from above, as if she could see and feel everything with her eyes closed in that one exquisite moment as the orgasm took over and her body shook as he kissed his way back up to her, settling between her hips.
"Been a while," he panted.
"Yeah," she whispered. "Don't worry. I'll go easy on you." Daryl snorted at that as he buried his face into her neck. Carol laughed as he sucked at her neck, and she gave his biceps a squeeze. "Stop it, you'll leave marks."
"So?"
"Is this your way of peeing on me to mark your territory?" He laughed then, his chest shaking against hers, and she smiled, closing her eyes as they just lay together, and she knew in that moment, she had her best friend back. He was never a barrel of laughs, but she knew that somehow, despite the distance between them lately, they'd found one another again, and it was finally time to move on to something more.
And then the laughter stopped, and he pulled back to look down at her, to caress her face with his calloused hand. And her hands moved down his scarred back, making new memories with each touch of her fingertips. She smiled up at him, eyes glittering with tears, face flushed and almost glowing. He reached between them then, gently easing himself against her, and she gasped at the feeling as he slowly started to push in, stretching her, filling her slowly and fully.
She squeezed his arms tightly, and he pushed in further, giving her time to adjust, though his body was screaming inside, desperate for relief and pleasure, but as she whimpered beneath him, he knew she needed a moment to adjust.
"It's ok," she promised, kissing the side of his neck as she moved her hips a little, urging him to move with her. And then he began to make love to her, slow and sure, bodies trembling and slipping over one another as he rocked her against the mattress. He felt the drag of a heel down his calf, the scraping of nails down his arms, the wet heat of her tongue against his skin as he buried himself inside of her. He groaned at the sensation of her walls fluttering and squeezing against him, and he knew he'd never felt anything quite like this. It was like they were made to fit together, made to move like this perfectly oiled machine, like they knew exactly what to do for one another.
It wasn't perfect, but it was perfect enough for two people who had spent so much time fighting feelings and uncertainties, and somehow, it had brought them here to this moment.
He was slow and gentle until she asked him not to be, and he held on as long as he could, making sure she came again before he let go, and when it was over, he lay with her wrapped in his arms.
"You still jealous?" she asked with a grin, kissing his neck as her fingertips brushed over his jaw line.
"Weren't jealous," he muttered.
"Is that why you sat on the porch waiting for me for hours?"
"Wasn't waitin'," he replied. "I like the fresh air."
"Ok," she replied with a grin.
"You don't believe me?"
"I'm flattered," she replied, pressing a kiss to his lips. "But you have nothing to worry about." She laced their fingers together. "But maybe we can do something tomorrow night, just the two of us." She looked up at him hopefully as he tightened his hold on her.
"Sounds good," he agreed. Just as Carol settled back down against his chest, Michonne called out from the kitchen that supper was ready.
"You hungry?" she asked.
"Starvin'," he replied, grinning at her as he pulled her to him for a kiss. She laughed against his lips and gave into the kiss, moaning softly as she felt herself being seduced by the magic of his kiss. Then the smell of roast began to waft through the crack at the bottom of the door, and Carol groaned when her stomach grumbled.
"Ok, pause," she laughed. "I really am starving." Daryl reluctantly let go of her so she could climb out of bed. When she was just buttoning up her blouse, she raised an eyebrow at him as he lay sprawled out on the bed. "You coming to dinner naked, because I could get on board with that." Daryl tossed a pillow at her and she tossed it right back at him before handing him his clothes.
"Just as she reached the door, she felt his breath on the back of her neck, and she spun to look right into his eyes.
"Wanna make it a quick supper and an early night?" he suggested, pressing against her as she wriggled between him and the door.
"I like the sound of that," she said with a wink. "Put your pants on, Pookie." She kissed him sweetly on the lips and decided that they could be a little late to dinner. Some things were just more important today.