Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: This story is meant to fit in during the group's time at the Green Farm in season two. Set some point after Sophia's death, but before Shane's death and their subsequent escape when the farm becomes overrun with walkers. I found this collecting dust in my unfinished/unpublished folder (like two years old amount of dust) and decided it deserved a night on the town.
Warnings: Contains some season two spoilers, references to Daryl's past, allusions to Carol's past: domestic abuse/violence, sexual imagery, adult language, masturbation, mild exhibitionism, mature language and mature content. This is basically smut and it is all tumblr's fault really.
Sonnets during Hurricane Season
Chapter Three
There was no talking. No questions. No him trying to talk her out of it or her askin' why he wasn't. It was just him, her and the steam misting through air above their heads.
He wondered idly if the others knew. Had Shane seen her leave camp? Had he noticed the empty tents? More to the point, did he even care if the self-righteous prick put two and two together? Either way, his brain was still playing catch up. He felt like an old truck trundling up an incline but refusing to change gears.
He sucked in a breath, still more water than air when she stepped forward, palm up and cautious for a handful of beats before she started tracing the curve of his face. She was humming – more a vibration than anything as her fingers lingered - smoothing the hair already fluffing around his temples as all the protests he could've sworn had been there a minute ago suddenly vanished.
Because without preamble, her hand was tugging at his shorts, encouraging him to lift up as she worked them down his hips. He leaned back on the seat, fighting down a groan as she settled atop him, bare skin to bare skin. He struggled to return the favor, yanking weakly at the elastic of her panties until she put him out of his misery.
And call him easy, but he was already breathing hard, dick weeping at the tip, over-eager and jonesing for it as he smeared pre-cum across the span of her inner-thigh. He bit his lip, thumbing a smattering of freckles that stood out just above the pale, fighting the urge to answer as her hips hitched up and rocked – a teaser for the main event.
There were no words, they didn't need them. The entirety of everything that had happened, everything that had brought them to this point stretched out between them. A vast landscape of choices made, a series of events that'd led them to what was happening right here, right now.
There were stress lines under her eyes, a redness that told of sleepless nights and more than a little bit of crying. But there was also determination, goodness, warmth and Christ he wanted her.
The admission momentarily brought him up short.
He didn't usually get what he wanted. Hell, he could probably count on one hand the number of times life hadn't short-sheeted him out of something or other. Maybe the end of the world wasn't so bad after all?
He held back a sneer just in time. Just figures that it would take some heavy ass shit like the entire god damned world ending for him to actually come up even.
Because really, if that wasn't a metaphor for his life, he didn't know what was.
He marveled on this for a few seconds, eventually getting distracted by the way she was scooting across his lap, high-tipped nipples brushing across his chest in a way that made him tense on reflex.
He nearly fell right off the toilet seat when she bit down on his earlobe, dick throbbing, snug in the crease between their thighs as she dug her nails into his shoulders. It took him a moment to realize she was shushing him, taking his shuddering and flinching for something else as her hands explored the length of him.
His heart was beating wildly in his chest, but not for the reasons she might have thought. No. He was too far gone for that. His hands tightened around the curve of her hip, keeping her close as his erection throbbed. It was more the fact that after a good year or so of tending to himself – so to speak – at this point he was probably well within his rights to have a god damned heart attack.
She arched up, pretty and deliciously high pitched in his lap when he snuck a hand between them. His pulse roared in his ears when his fingers came back wet, nearly drippin'. She was ready for him – more than ready by the feel of it. He gritted his teeth.
Christ, there was no way in hell he was going to last!
The kiss that followed was equal parts soft and fierce. It was affirming and gentle and a thousand other things he probably had no business putting a name to. All he knew was that she tasted like peaches and salt, suddenly jealous of the need to breathe whenever lack of air forced them apart.
"…Daryl."
He forced himself to pull away, lips swollen and hot as she mewled out a negative. But, considering he let his hand dart down again, tracing her slit with his thumb, he figured he'd be forgiven. His chest strained as he fought to catch his breath, using his distraction to collect himself as he tried and failed to reign himself in.
He was in so deep he didn't even want a fucking paddle.
The push and pull of her chest reminded him of a bird fluttering in a broken cage. So close to freedom, but not quite sure what that meant as it flittered back and forth in confusion. He parted her folds with the crook of his thumb, muffling a groan into her shoulder as he slipped in easily, rubbing her wetness between his fingers before he swirled the digit inside her.
The noises she was making were fucking with his head.
Because you couldn't fake that kind of pleasure.
She wanted him.
Jesus Christ, this was his life?!
He took a moment to look – to stare, ogle, whatever the hell you wanted to call it. He figured it would be something he could take with him for the road, for the lonely nights where there was nothin' but him and his right hand for company. For when she was gone, for when she finally came to her senses and moved on to someone better, or-
She was thinner than he liked, naturally slender but noticeably underfed. Most of it was a product of being on the road, but you didn't have to be a rocket scientist to wonder how much she'd actually been eating with that shit-stain of a husband sulking around.
Still, he cupped the inside of her thigh, more lean muscle than soft flesh, encouraging her to spread them wide as the pale pink of her center was revealed. His mouth watered. Fucking perfect. He looked up, catching her expression when his fingers found her nub and peppered it with slow, rolling circles.
The low light and hanging mist seemed to highlight the arcs of her cheekbones, cutting out a profile that could have made an angel fuckin' weep.
"…Daryl- Daryl, please."
He would have probably continued that way if Carol hadn't decided to get even. Because a second later her nails were digging in and she was breathing out his name, all throaty and shit as she clenched around his finger. He was done. Fucking done.
There was no finesse to it, no grand overture, nothing to mark the moment as he took it to home base and gave her what she'd come for. He just yanked her up, fingers slipping free with an obscene sounding squelch, positioned himself at her center and dropped her down on top of him.
"Sweet je-"
She was so sweet, so slick, so fuckin' right that sparks went off behind his lids the moment he slid home. They paused when he bottomed out, heeding her instinctively when her fingers tightened on his shoulders, holding him in place as they stilled.
Their breaths mingled as they took a moment and just breathed.
The urge to thrust up into that impossibly tight, wet heat, was almost unbearable. He gritted his teeth, bucking up only once before a sound, pitched with warning, filtered through the steam.
Even now, feeling her twitching and tightening around him, the need to start up a rhythm - something - anything to sooth the pressure building around his cock, was akin to an act of god to ignore.
She was so fucking good.
And it had been way too long.
But for now, he would wait. The body had a way of talking without words, tellin' you everything you wanted to know if you took the time to listen. And right now hers was tellin' him to stop, to keep it at parade rest.
He could do that.
For now.
A/N #1: Thank you for reading. Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! – Okay, I lied. There will be ONE more chapter. The last one got super long and I felt it was better to break it up than put you all through that