AN: There is a long and heated response to a guest reviewer at the end. I invite anyone who does not need to read it (and doesn't need to "suggest" direction for people's writing) to ignore it. Most of the time I delete such things or simply ignore them…but today hasn't been a great day and I didn't feel like ignoring it today.
The short of it is that this is not a story about just Daryl and Carol and their sexual endeavors together. It has NEVER been presented as that. If you weren't sure, however, I'm letting it be known as clearly as possible now. It's about them, yes, but it was also intended to be about other characters and about their relationships. It's not just a "we're tangled up in each other and nothing and no one else exists" fic. If that's not your cup of tea, I invite you to stop reading now.
Otherwise, here's another chapter and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think.
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"OK…so you got…" Daryl started, digging through the bags of fast food that he was emptying onto Carol's table.
By the time that they'd left Salty's, she'd been tired and he'd been tired too so they'd opted for the healthiest meal option available to them…a drive thru dinner.
"Chicken sandwich," Carol said, ruffling the papers to look at the sandwiches nestled inside them. Satisfied that she had hers, she opened it and started to eat without any real fanfare. Daryl snickered to himself and sat down, pulling the first of the two burgers he had planned for himself toward him.
She hadn't changed out of the dress clothes for the second performance that they'd done, and Daryl wasn't sure exactly how he was going to introduce his question about whether or not he could talk her out of them. She had loosened the tie so that it hung even more open than before, but that was about all the change that had taken place.
Daryl chewed through a few bites of his burger, making faster progress with his food than she was, and then he swallowed down the food and started to talk to her.
"So…uh…tomorrow night? That's the last night?" He asked.
Carol looked at him and nodded as she chewed.
"You uh…ya got nice costumes for that one too?" He asked.
Carol smiled.
"They're bright," Carol said. "They're…all these…I don't know what you'd call them. Pants suits? I guess? They're really…"
She broke off and laughed to herself and Daryl couldn't help but be amused.
"What?" He probed.
"They're super tacky," Carol admitted. "But…I guess it's just for the one night and it was Jacqui's idea…throwback to the seventies."
Daryl chuckled.
"Good times," he commented.
He finished his first sandwich, felt a little sheepish that he was gobbling his food while she appeared to be someone who was much more delicate…actually making a fry last for more than one bite…and then he pulled his other sandwich toward him.
"So…pants? Again?" He asked.
Carol nodded and held her gaze on him a moment. The way that she was looking at him at the moment made him a little uncomfortable because he could tell that it wasn't an entirely innocent look. It wasn't devoid of meaning. Her eyes were slanted like she was trying to see through him or something…and he cleared his throat in response and offered her a half smile through his eating to try to get her to look away or change the expression she might not know she was making.
"You're really into fashion, aren't you?" Carol asked, her voice taking on something of an ironic tone.
And Daryl felt his face grow warm. He'd been figured out as sure as he was sitting there. He laughed, almost choking on his food and shook his head.
"Not really…just…ya know…liked ya costume, that's all," Daryl said.
"This one?" Carol asked, looking at the outfit she was wearing.
Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. But he wasn't going to insult her. So he nodded his head with very little commitment to the act and then fell silent.
He finished eating before she did, but he sat there and picked at fries while she finished in silence, not wanting to make her feel bothered that she was still eating when he'd already swallowed down twice as much food.
When she finished, though, she got up and cleared the trash off the table, leaving him with the fries in front of him that he didn't really want, and then she went about walking around the kitchen and piddling with things here and there as though he wasn't even in the room.
Finally he cleared his throat rather noisily to remind her that he was there…just in case she'd forgotten.
She crossed the room and leaned, her hand on the table near him.
"Were you planning on staying the night tonight?" She asked.
"You invitin' me?" Daryl asked.
Carol smiled.
"I don't want to interrupt your…other plans…" she offered.
Daryl snickered.
"I think ya might think I got more goin' on in life than I do," he commented.
Carol smiled again and nodded her head.
"Did you have anything in mind…anything you wanted to do?" She asked.
Daryl cleared his throat again. It was now or never if he was getting his way with this whole thing. She couldn't leave the door more open for him if she'd simply asked him how he wanted to have sex with her.
"Like ta get another look at that purple dress you was wearin'…it…well…" He broke off and laughed at himself in conjunction with the look she was giving him, eyebrows raised, nodding her head slightly as he spoke. "It looked good on ya…"
Carol nodded her head.
"It did?" She asked. "You don't like this one?"
Daryl swallowed.
He felt like she was playing with him…in fact, he was more positive that she was playing with him than he'd been about most things in his life.
The part that he wasn't sure of was what the stakes of this game were.
"Like that one too," he said. "Just…like the purple one…better…"
Carol nodded her head like he'd just told her some kind of deep information that she was going to have to think over for a moment. Then she narrowed her eyes at him again and set her jaw, her tongue very obviously exploring her back teeth while she considered it.
"Are you asking me…to put on the purple dress?" Carol asked.
Daryl smirked, amused at the game now that he felt sure it was a game…and not one he was likely to lose.
"Yeah…reckon I am…" he said.
Carol made something of a disappointed face and straightened herself up from where she was leaning against the table. She started to unbutton the white dress shirt that she was wearing, stopping in Daryl's opinion just when she was getting to the good part so that her bra was visible, but just barely.
She sighed.
"Well…I can change, I guess…it's just a shame…" she said.
Daryl furrowed his brow at her.
"S'a shame?" He asked.
She nodded, the look of disappointment not entirely gone from her face. She pulled the tie over her head and Daryl was momentarily confused when she slipped it over his head, hanging it loosely like a red necklace. She stood there a moment, fumbling with it and sliding the knot so that it was a little tighter around his neck, but not choking him.
"Yeah," she said, smiling at the tie more than at him. "It's a shame…because…I didn't think I was going to like this one until I put it on…and now I think it's kind of…sexy. At least it makes me feel sexy…"
Daryl cleared his throat again, not sure if the sudden choking up that was coming over him was coming from his normal dislike of ties or because he was oddly turned on right now and he couldn't even explain exactly why it was…except that maybe it was Carol's cleavage close to his face…or maybe it was her tone of voice…but something had him finding it a little more difficult to swallow than he thought an the action had to be.
"That makes you feel sexy?" He asked.
Carol smiled broadly then…more broadly than before and she backed off of him, stepping back a few steps.
"Yeah…kind of…different…maybe…" she shrugged. "I don't know…maybe powerful. It makes me want to do things…"
He couldn't even pretend that his interest wasn't peaked. At the moment he was pretty sure that she'd look sexy wearing a black plastic trash bag of the variety that Merle usually got in boxes of nearly a hundred from the A and P.
"What kinda things were ya thinkin' 'bout?" Daryl asked.
She pursed her lips at him.
"You like the purple one," she said.
Daryl nodded his head.
"They's always tomorrow night," he said. "Thing about me is…I'm pretty damn flexible…"
She smiled.
"A real go with the flow kinda guy?" She asked.
"If that's what'cha need me ta be," he said.
Carol smiled again.
"I don't want to mess up your evening…" she offered. "If you had plans…"
Daryl got up then. He could barely concentrate for being turned on and he wasn't sure how much more of the game that he could stand playing before there was some kind of touch involved between them besides the light resting of her hand on his chest when she'd slipped the tie over his neck. He stepped toward her, half expecting her to skirt his advance just to tease him, and caught her, pulling her close to him.
She kissed him hard…harder than she had before and bit his lip hard enough when she pulled away that it stung afterward and he thought to himself that he wouldn't be surprised if it was bleeding…but he wasn't going to complain if it was because it just made him suddenly appreciate her…and whatever it was in the outfit she was wearing that made her feel this way…even more than he had before.
He moved his hands to her pants and tried to figure out how the hell the things were fastened. It wasn't just a typical button and zipper get up and he wished, for a moment, that women's clothes didn't have to be so damn complicated.
"I think you need ta come outta these," he said finally, leaning his face close to her ear and then biting and sucking her neck…hoping she wouldn't be pissed if he left there the purple bruises that he was considering putting anywhere on her body that she gave him the opportunity to.
She backed up, pulling away from him.
"No…" she said, shaking her head at him. "I think you need to come out of those…"
Daryl smirked.
But that was fine…he would give. He had an itchy feeling that she'd make it worth his while anyway and at this moment he didn't have any real affinity for his pants…nor did he intend to keep them.
"Bedroom?" He asked, reaching and popping the button on his pants, wondering exactly how dramatic she wanted this little removal to be.
Carol shook her head.
"Dining room?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
He wasn't exactly that well-versed in places to have sex. Bedroom was most common to him…couch…and a few times in cars which never turned out to be like he wanted it to be.
Carol looked like she was considering it.
"I would," she said with some hesitancy, "but I think there's a brace loose on the table…"
Daryl closed his eyes and shook his head, taken over by her sincerity at the moment.
"I can fix that…later…" he said. "So where?"
Carol shrugged.
"Living room…" she said, and she turned, leaving him there, pants unbuttoned, to lead the way to where she apparently saw this happening. When Daryl followed after her, shucking his pants without any pomp and circumstance because he thought, at this point, she didn't care, and toeing out of his shoes as quickly was as humanly possible, she stood and waited on him, ogling him.
"There…" she said, pointing to one of the cushioned chairs. He nodded and went toward it.
"Underwear?" She asked.
Daryl smirked.
"You ain't lost nothin' yet…an' you want my pants an' my drawers?" He teased…but he came out of the underwear, and to meet her challenge in the game, deliberately stroked himself slowly twice while he stared at her…and before he took the seat that she had designated for him. "Socks too?" He asked.
She made a face and nodded her head.
"I think socks too…" she said. "And the shirt…but leave the tie…"
Daryl snickered, but he complied with her wishes until he was left feeling more than a little exposed, wearing nothing more than a tie and his amusement.
"You said that shit makes ya feel sexy…I think it makes ya feel bossy," he muttered.
But even as he was speaking, Carol shimmied out of her pants…and if she'd been wearing underwear with them, Daryl wasn't sure because she'd taken the panties off in the same move if they'd ever been there to begin with.
And he felt himself grow harder.
"Damn…" was all he managed to get out.
She smiled and came toward him, her hands going to the back of the chair as she leaned down. He moved to kiss her, thinking that's what she was dipping down to do as she brushed against him, but she surprised him by skirting the kiss and dropping her head to lick and suck at his nipple, adding her teeth in later, until he squirmed uncontrollably in the chair out of the pure necessity to move.
She pulled up then and looked at him with what he was now sure was the look that she wore for torture.
"Shirt?" He asked, embarrassed at the sound of his own voice.
She backed off of him a little and shook her head.
"I like it…" she said.
She reached around and unclasped her bra, pulling one arm out and then the other, and threading them back into the sleeves of the shirt before she let the garment fall to the floor.
"I think I'll keep it…" she said.
She didn't ask him if he was fine with that or not…but he didn't care now that the shirt hung open and she was void of everything else. When she came back, this time kissing him with all the force that she'd used before, he reached a hand and found her breast, pinching her nipple hard to match the force of the kiss. She moaned at him and stayed that way, attacking his nipples the same as he was doing to hers while they kissed and nipped at each other's lips, for a moment and then she backed up and turned around.
He didn't need instructions to help her arrange herself as she lowered herself down onto him, her back against his chest. He moved the shirt enough that it hung loosely off her shoulders, her hands gripping the arm of the chair for leverage as she directed the speed and depth of his thrusts and he latched his teeth onto the soft skin just where her neck and shoulder met, gently biting her there while his hands looked for something to do, one harassing a breast, while the other found the place just where they met and teased her into harder, faster movements on her part.
When she came, she dug her nails into his thighs, where her hands had sought a hold, and the biting sting of her nails coupled with her pulsing around him drove him to find his own end and to bite hard than he'd intended on the place that he'd suckled at her neck.
Void of breath and still wrapped up in the temporary euphoria of the moment, he dropped one of his arms around her waist, pulling her to lean back against him as they both tried to find breath before they worried about words.
He could honestly say…at that moment…that the outfit he'd thought he didn't care for at all was now sitting somewhere at the top of his list for costume choices, were she looking for his advice on the issue in the future.
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AN: To the guest reviewer…I considered whether or not to address your comments. And really, if I felt like being the "big person" here, I wouldn't address them…but maybe today just simply wasn't that day. So I'm going to address them.
I invite you…in fact, I almost implore you…to stop reading now or at any point that you see fit to stop. Really…it's OK. If you don't like a story then you shouldn't keep reading it. It's a waste of your time and energy and if it causes you any undue stress then it's probably bad for your health and I don't want to contribute to that in the least.
That aside…I will now address the rest of your comment.
Does this "storyline pothole" have a point? No more than any other "storyline pothole" has ever had. If you don't like it…stop reading. It's simple. Will it "get out of the pothole?" Well…that's up for interpretation. I don't think it's in a pothole, so there's nothing to get out of. Plots have lots of different "parts" to them…or at least I think they should…so this is simply one of them. That's it. That's all there is to it. It would be awfully boring to see the same thing over and over again or have the entirety of the story summed up instantly. The only time that works, in my opinion, is if you're either reading one shots (in which case that's the whole point) or smut shots (in which case we know what the point is). Whether or not the story will crawl out of its pothole, I can't answer for you…but I invite you to get out if you can. I wouldn't want you to be stuck in a pothole.
As for why "we" read the story originally, I would invite you to speak for yourself since I'm sure you don't speak for the entirety of the story's readers. Some people read the things I write for no other reason than to simply support me…that's it…I'm sure that you don't fall into that category. So when you address "why we read" the story, perhaps you should think about speaking for yourself. What you seek in a story is very individualized. I don't read anything the same as anyone else, and neither do you.
"Friends fall by the wayside" and you want more about Daryl and Carol…well let me just go ahead and nip this in the bud right now. That's not always true. That's owing to a certain kind of psychology, one that I don't subscribe to.
This story was NEVER intended to be solely about Daryl and Carol. That should have been evident from the get go to anyone not reading with shipping blinders. Other relationships mean a good deal in the story and have shaped who Daryl and Carol are and how they interact with each other as well as the "outside world". I'm not writing a story about just their relationship. I never intended to, I never pretended that's what this was going to be. If that's what you thought it was going to be, then you simply jumped to your own conclusions. Please don't assume that you know anything about where this story was intended to go or about any "detours" or "potholes" I've had along the way.
Contrary to popular belief, tacking "please" on the end of anything doesn't make it any more pleasant and doesn't excuse the rest of your way comment and/or attitude. Nor does tacking on any false flattery. It also doesn't exactly make me want to do anything that you suggest that I should do…in fact, it makes me almost want to do the opposite entirely.
Again, I invite you, since this story is obviously not going to fulfill any of your entertainment needs, to find something that does.