AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.
I wasn't sure if these were all separate words but put together it was hilarious, so...!

He had a weird kink about her bellybutton. She didn't really know what to think of it but he seemed to enjoy it a lot. Well, rather, she didn't really care because it seemed to make him happy. He was kind of like a giant puppy and had to use his animal instincts to interact more often than not. So for whatever reason, he really, really liked licking her bellybutton whenever it was exposed to him. She thought it was silly, but it was his way of being both lighthearted and intimate.

Of course, only her, though. Her stomach seemed to be his most favorite part of her body for whatever reason. More than that, he loved to lick her whenever he could; sometimes, coming home from hunting, he would come up behind her and lick the back of her neck, making her practically jump out of her skin while she mended the buttons on his shirt he always pulled off when he got caught on a tree. He was ridiculously messy when it came to his clothes and he knew it drove her crazy, so he did the best he could to take care of his clothes.

There was just something about that dip in her stomach he was undeniably intrigued with. Perhaps, she thought, it was because it was rather ticklish, so whenever she was upset or cranky when they were alone he would sneak his head up her shirt just a little and lick and she would burst into giggles and squeals. Even in the apocalypse, being tickled was still the worst possible thing that could happen to her ultimately. She told him to stop and pulled on his unruly hair and it would become giggles and tickle fights until eventually one of them ran off in an effort to get away from the other tickling them.

More or less, it was his own little way of showing a bit of affection. That little kink meant so much more than a kink. It was a way for him to tell her he loved her and he wanted her to stay healthy, a way for him to lighten the mood. He was endlessly intrigued by it. She thought maybe it was just the ghost of a man that had barely had a childhood. If nothing else, it lightened the mood when it was appropriate and showed he had a little sense of humor, even if it could seem a little vulgar... or sexual?

"Daryl," Carol moaned, half-asleep, the sunlight filtering in on them, digging her fingers into his scalp through his ridiculously long hair with her tank top pulled up a little while he licked away at the soft skin, "Stooop, you have to go..."

Daryl just made a feral purring sound, but they both froze when they heard a man clear his throat. Rick. He was bright red, taking in the scene, but at the same time smirking. "If you're quite finished, I need to borrow Daryl for a run, actually."

Daryl had turned a deep shade of red and scrambled to his feet, pulling on his vest quickly and buttoning his shirt hurriedly. He grabbed his crossbow and gave Carol a kiss goodbye, scurrying past Rick, who was snickering. "Some kink he has."

Carol just smiled meekly and sat up, rubbing her eyes and fixing her shirt. "We all love Daryl."