This is the longest chapter I've ever written, I just couldn't cut it. It didn't make sense to make it shorter.
Dream a dream, here's a scene
Touch me anywhere 'cause I'm your baby
Grab my waist, don't waste any part
I believe that you see me for who I am
So spill my clothes on the floor of your new car
Is it safe, is it safe to just be who we are?
Is it safe, is it safe to just be who we are?
The taste, the touch, the way we love
It all comes down to make the sound of our love song
Love song by Lana del rey
Chapter 30 - Alice in Wonderland
As you trudge through the dense forest, your feet ache with every step, and your back cries out in protest. "How far are we going?" you complain, wondering if the end is even in sight. But you can't give up now. This was your plan from the beginning, a chance to understand the thrill of hunting and be part of something that Daryl involved himself in a lot.
It all started when your father announced his upcoming political convention in DC, and your mother decided to join him for some sightseeing and shopping. You thought this was the perfect timing for an adventure of your own, and since you often just hang out at the cliffside, you begged Daryl to take you hunting, even though he scoffed at the idea, claiming you didn't have the stomach for it. But with your best puppy eyes, a few kisses, and pleading lips, you managed to sway him.
And now here you are, in the midst of the forest, your boots crunching the dry leaves underfoot as you follow behind Daryl. He leads the way, a few feet in front of you, his eyes fixed on the trail ahead. "You said you wanted to hunt," he reminds you, his voice firm. "So, keep walkin'."
"Not fun at all." you mumble with a sigh, as the coolness of fall hangs in the air, and a gentle breeze rustles the branches overhead, dancing through your loose hair.
You had driven to the trailer home to pick up Daryl, and as you expected, his brother was there, lounging on the front porch and smoking like a chimney. The moment he sees you, he flashes that stupid, sly smirk and starts hurling insults your way. But you refuse to engage, instead lift your chin, and give him the cold shoulder.
It was a relief when Daryl finally emerged from the trailer, crossbow in hand and light backpack in tow. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of doubt as you look at your own overstuffed yellow backpack, towering over you like a monolith in the back seat. Perhaps you overpacked… Maybe camping gear and provisions weren't necessary for a hunting trip after all.
As you swap seats with Daryl and he gets behind the wheel, you can't resist one final act of defiance towards his obnoxious brother. You thrust your hand out the window, flipping him off, and you watch as he laughs and returns the gesture in the rearview mirror. It's petty, but it feels satisfying as you hold the middle finger until he's out of sight.
"Ugh, this backpack is killing me," you whine, feeling the weight of the load pressing down on your shoulders. You had tried to anticipate every possible need and had ended up with a backpack that was almost as tall as you were.
"You didn't even offer to carry this for me." you grumble, and Daryl's head snaps towards you incredulously, and you can tell he's about to call you out on your lie. Sure, he had offered to carry it for you earlier, but you had declined. Still, you hadn't expected the hike to be this grueling.
"Why do I gotta carry all that shit anyway?" he protests, pausing to wait for you to catch up. "You're the one who decided to bring your whole house with you." You immediately feign exhaustion, pretending like you're moving a mountain as you groan and moan your way a few steps forward.
"Is this how you treat your girl?" you mumble, fluttering your lashes at him. "Watch her break her back carrying all this weight."
"Such a drama queen," Daryl rolls his eyes, but a faint hint of amusement flickers across his face. Despite his statement, he takes the backpack from you and swaps it for his own, shouldering the burden. You beam up at him, slinging his light backpack over your shoulder with a goofy grin on your face.
With a shake of his head, he continues his walk, and this time your steps quicken. Your eyes take in the scenery overhead. You notice how the colors have changed with the fall weather, with leaves in shades of red, orange, and gold littering the ground like a gateway to heaven. Taking a deep inhale, you feel at peace, as the autumn air is filled with the earthy scent of fallen leaves and the distant sound of rustling trees. You can't help but wonder if this is something Daryl loves as well.
You both walk for what seems like hours, with only the rustling of leaves and occasional bird call breaking the silence. Yet, Daryl seems to know where he is heading, and as usual, you follow. Eventually, he stops at a clearing that looks promising for a cozy little campsite, surrounded by tall trees.
"We'll settle here. There is a creek nearby," he says, placing your backpack on the ground. The ground is flat and covered in a soft bed of pine needles, and you can hear a small creek trickling nearby.
Without wasting any time, you grab your hiking backpack and start unloading your camping tent. With Daryl's help, it doesn't take long to set up. As you arrange your sleeping bed inside, you can see Daryl from the opening of your tent, gathering firewood and preparing a small pit to light up later. You leave your backpack inside, which holds a change of clothes, your mother's leftover casserole, and a few bottles of water.
With a content sigh, you step out of the tent and stretch your sore muscles. Daryl stands before you with his crossbow in hand, "Are you ready to hunt?"
"Hell yeah!" you grin excitedly, taking his hand as he reaches for yours. Hand in hand, you venture deeper into the woods.
As you venture deeper into the heart of the forest, towering trees loom overhead, seemingly reaching for the sky. The sun's rays filter through the leaves in golden beams, illuminating the occasional burst of vibrant red and orange leaves that punctuates the green landscape. Your eyes widen with amazement as you take in the breathtaking beauty surrounding you.
The forest is alive with the sounds of nature - birds singing their musical tunes, small creatures scurrying through the underbrush, and the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. You adjust the heavy crossbow in your hand with a shrug, its polished string glinting in the sunlight. Daryl had allowed you to hold his weapon, and now you march through the forest feeling like the big bad wolf.
"This makes me look so cool," you murmur in awe, examining the intricate mechanism that pulls the bowstring tight. Daryl glances briefly in your direction, shaking his head at the infectious grin on your face.
"Yeah, yeah, keep em' fingers away from the trigger," he cautions, his gaze returning to the forest floor. You hum in agreement, your eyes remain fixed on the crossbow, running your fingers over its surface, admiring its sturdy build and the small scratches and dents that adorn it. Despite its worn appearance, you can tell that it has been well taken care of.
"I always thought you hunted with rifles or something," you comment, your voice laced with curiosity.
"Nah, I'll leave that shit for Merle," Daryl responds with a smirk. "I prefer it quiet and clean." You nod in agreement, remembering some of your father's wealthy friends who were avid hunters and often brought their dogs along. However, the thought of using a rifle for hunting always seemed a bit messy to you.
You can't contain your excitement as you turn to Daryl, "So, what are we hunting today? Deer, elk, maybe a moose?" Your voice trails off as you wonder if there are even any moose in Georgia.
Daryl looks up at you from his squatting position and squints incredulously. "The hell you tryin' to do with a moose?" he asks with a hint of amusement. "Keep its head as a trophy hunt?" You laugh at the absurd image that springs to mind - you dragging a dead moose into your car and bringing its head home as a trophy, and you can't help but imagine the look on your mother's face.
"Huntin' don't work like that," he explains. "You need a tag for big games unless you're doing the illegal shit."
"Then what are we tracking?" you ask, assuming that's what he was doing, but you had no idea about the rules and regulations surrounding hunting.
You've been wandering around in the woods for a while now, turning left and right multiple times as Daryl's eyes follow the ground. Every few feet, he stops and marks trees with his small Swiss knife, carving a unique symbol that looks like the letter V with a slash into the middle of the letter, right into the bark.
"You tell me, ain't you the one who wanted to learn," he remarks, a sly smile playing at the corner of his lips. As you crouch down beside him, confusion creeps over you, unsure of what exactly you're supposed to be looking for.
"We're gonna get you a small game," he announces, his gaze fixed on your furrowed brow.
"A small game?" you repeat, your voice laced with uncertainty.
"A bunny," he responds matter-of-factly, his attention shifting as if he's spotted something of interest. Suddenly, the image of a fluffy bunny materializes in your mind, and you gasp.
"A bunny?" you exclaim, unable to contain your surprise. "But they're so cute!"
At the funny look he gives you, you realize that your perception of the creature doesn't quite match his. Just because they're adorable doesn't mean they're off-limits, you suspect.
"Stop yappin' and focus on the ground," he chides, his tone blunt. You let out a sigh, raising your arms in surrender while holding your crossbow firmly.
"Alright, alright," you mutter under your breath.
As you continue walking alongside him, your eyes scan the terrain, and you turn to him with a curious expression.
"So, what exactly are we looking for?" you probe, watching as he brushes dirt aside.
"Bunnies stick to the same ol' paths," he explains, gesturing towards the vegetation surrounding you. You notice a small hole in the ground with a pile of dirt outside of it, and you realize that it must be a rabbit hole.
In amazement, you turn towards him, "Who taught you how to hunt?" You ask, as you observe several other rabbit holes in the surrounding area that you hadn't even noticed before.
There's a moment of silence before he responds. "My old man," he says, his tone changing in pitch and taking on a distant quality. As you scrutinize his unreadable expression, you wonder if he suffered the same kind of abuse out here that he had at home. Perhaps his father punished him for not learning the skills quickly enough or for making simple mistakes.
"But when I got a little bit older, I started goin' out with Merle," he adds, breaking your reverie. "I've also been on a few huntin' trips with my Uncle Jess. For cheap-ass man, he always gets the top-notch tags, no skimpin' there." he says, and you wonder if hunting runs in the Dixon family.
"You're really good at this," you compliment him, impressed by his tracking and hunting skills. It's clear that he has a talent for it, much like his skillfulness with his exceptional hands.
"Well, I otta be good at hunting if I want to eat," he scoffs, marking a tree and leading you deeper into the forest.
You stop mid-step, confused by his statement. "What do you mean?" you ask, looking at him for an explanation.
"Ain't like there is someone at home goin' grocery shopping and makin' tofu lasagna," he says, his eyes full of melancholy. Your stomach drops like a stone as memories flood your mind - memories of your mother's cooking and the lunch you packed for a beach trip. He had even cleaned the bowl despite making side comments about the tofu. You also remember how he ate your burnt cooking at his birthday picnic, saying, 'Ain't nobody ever cooks for me.' You had thought he meant specifically for him, but now you realize there was more to it.
"My ma never left her bed, and my ol' man only knows how to buy himself a bottle of liquor," he tells you, his voice heavy with sadness. "Merle'd get us some bread and peanut butter and shit, but if you wanna eat, we catch our own harvest."
As he turns back to his tracking, you can't help but be amazed by him. Every day, you discover something new about him - something that reveals his strength and the kind of man he is.
"I see," you whisper, never taking your eyes off him. You picture him as a young boy, catching his own meal and hunting with his brother to feed themselves and their mother.
"What?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow, when he notices the soft expression on your face.
You bite down on your bottom lip, fighting against the emotions that threaten to overflow, and with a hushed voice, you try to contain the raw feeling that had been brewing inside of you. "It's nothing," you whisper, trying to steady your voice as you feel the tears welling up behind your eyes.
But the words couldn't stay hidden for long, and soon, they come pouring out of you, like a rushing river breaking through its dam. "It's just that... you're incredible, you know that? Every day, I love you more," you say, your hand reaching out for his as you step closer, your fingers intertwining with his in a gentle lock.
A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you watch the bewilderment on his face, and without a second thought, you pull him closer to you, relishing in the softness of his lips as you kiss him tenderly.
As the kiss deepens, all the sounds of nature disappear, and you forget everything else around you. The woods, the crossbow, the dirt - it all fades away, forgotten for the moment, as you press yourself against him, his body radiating warmth against your own.
Your fingers get lost in his hair, pulling him closer to you, and he responds just as eagerly, his arms encircling your waist and drawing you close to his chest, his tongue meeting yours in a dance that leaves you breathless. The faint taste of the cigarette he smoked on the drive here lingers on his lips, adding a layer of complexity to the moment.
As you finally break away from the kiss, you rest your forehead against his, your breaths mingling together. But Daryl's voice suddenly pierces through the haze and brings you back to reality.
"There's your game," he whispers, his eyes darting to the side. But you are so absorbed by him that you barely register what he is saying until he gently nudges you, causing you to turn your head slightly. And then, like a flicker of light, you see it.
"Ah," you breathe, gazing at the small, delicate bunny nibbling at the leafy vegetation and mushrooming tree roots, unaware of its impending danger. Daryl guides you down into a crouch, and you hoist the crossbow up, preparing to take aim.
"Raise it higher and steady yourself," Daryl advises, his voice a husky whisper in your ear. He moves around you, his solid, warm form pressing against your own. As he envelops you, his fingers tighten around your upper arm, his movements soft and fluid, tweaking your aim as he guides your wrist downwards.
The hairs on your arms stand on end, and you feel a cascade of goosebumps wash over your skin. Your throat is dry as your focus shifts from the bunny before you to the man behind you, your body completely consumed by the sensation of his touch. You're powerless to resist his pull, captivated by his presence in a way that feels all too familiar, harkening back to the time he taught you how to fish. You glance at him sideways and realize with a start that you've been completely seduced, despite him not even trying.
Daryl's breath caresses your neck as he murmurs, "This crossbow here got a draw weight of 150 pounds, so be prepared, it's got some kick to it." You nod, though you barely heard him. He guides your finger to the trigger, and you mentally berate yourself for your lack of focus, steadying yourself for the task at hand.
Your gaze locks onto the small creature, and you draw in a deep breath before squeezing the trigger. But the recoil is more than you anticipated, and your body jerks backwards, almost cartoonishly, as the arrow embeds itself in a nearby tree with a loud thud, far from the intended target.
"Ouch!" you exclaim, stumbling backward and dragging Daryl down with you. He catches himself on his elbow, and you rub your shoulder, wincing at the unexpected pain.
"I warned you about the kick," Daryl chides, pulling himself up to a seated position. "Let me take a look," he says, gently tugging at the collar of your shirt. You groan theatrically, allowing your body to slump against his in an exaggerated manner.
"Oh no!" you wail in a melodramatic fashion, clutching your shoulder. "I fear this is the end for me. What will my family think? Dying while hunting a bunny." As Daryl inspects your shoulder and finds no mark, you struggle to stifle your amusement.
"Well, if you gotta go, might as well go out like a champ," he muses, but before he can finish his thought, you lunge at him, your arm slinging around his neck and pulling him down onto the grass with you. You both tumble backward, and you burst out laughing as he playfully wrestles you to the ground.
"Or maybe you could kiss it and make it better," you suggest coyly, pouting as you rub your shoulder once more. With a roll of his eyes, Daryl leans down and plants a gentle kiss on your 'injured' shoulder.
"There, all better," he declares, and your grin widens.
"But wait, there's more," you tease, pointing to various other parts of your body. "I'm hurt here, and here, and here!" You dissolve into a fit of giggles as your laughter echoes through the clearing.
When Daryl mentions the draw weight of the crossbow, you find yourself confused at first. It's not until you try to load a new arrow and feel the 150lb force required to do so, that you fully grasp the concept. However, despite your newfound understanding, you can't seem to hit anything with the crossbow. The bunnies are too quick, and the jerking motion of the shot throws off your aim every time.
Like everything else, Daryl teaches you how to use the crossbow, demonstrating the proper technique. As you watch him expertly load a new arrow, you can't help but notice the impressive curl of his bicep as he pulls the bowstring back with ease. You're struck by how effortless he makes it seem, and you reach out to touch his muscular arm mid-load. When he catches your gaze with a raised eyebrow, you can't resist putting on a little show for him, swooning, fanning yourself, and winking at him coyly.
Despite your lack of success in hunting, you still have something to offer for dinner - your mom's leftover casserole. Daryl chuckles at the irony of the situation, mumbling "so much for hunting" as you both return to the campsite.
Now, as the warmth of the campfire envelops you, you sit between Daryl's legs with your arms leaning on his muscular thighs, cradled on each side. The soft glow of the fire casts a gentle light over your faces and the small tent, and an empty bowl and two dirty forks sit next to you.
Daryl's fingers are gentle as he massages your sore shoulder, and you allow yourself to sink into the moment, closing your eyes fully and melting into the sensation. The nocturnal sounds of the woods surround you, creating a serene feel that's heightened by the soft running water of the nearby lake.
When you open your eyes again, a soft sigh escapes your lips as you gaze up at the breathtaking starry sky above. The coolness of the air is offset by the warmth of the fire and the comfort of Daryl's embrace. In this moment, you feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and happiness.
"It's beautiful out here," you whisper, leaning back into Daryl's strong arms.
"You should see it up in the mountains," he replies, his arms moving to wrap tightly around your waist and pulling you closer to him. "Once a year, my Uncle Jess gets himself a big game huntin' tag, and we cook up our catch right over the fire while we smoke a joint." A chuckle escapes his lips as if he's reminiscing about something fondly. "Of course, I can never get too high like those fuckin' rednecks because I'm always worried about the fuckin' bears, but the stars...it feels like you can touch 'em if you just reach for it."
As the stars grow brighter and more dazzling above you, you can't imagine anything more beautiful. "Take me out there one day?" you ask, turning your head slightly to gaze up at him.
"Anywhere you want to go," he responds with a smile, his eyes sparkling in the flickering light of the fire.
"Really?" you ask, scanning his handsome face, your heart swelling with emotion. He hums in affirmation, his grip on your waist tightening as he leans in to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. You respond eagerly, chasing after his lips and your hand moves to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and losing yourself in the moment.
As you pull away from the kiss, your heart races with indescribable feelings of awe and wonder. Your body returns to its leaning position, and his hands still firmly grasp your wrist, his fingers interlocking with yours in a way that makes you feel safe and secure.
Together, you watch the sky in companionable silence, and it dawns on you that you are equally captivated by the boy beside you. It's hard to believe that just a few months ago, he was just another face in the crowd, someone you never paid much attention to. But now, he has become your entire universe, a boy who holds you with a rare tenderness.
Suddenly, the cozy moment is disrupted when Daryl makes a move to get up. You gaze up at him, startled, and blurt out, "Where are you going?"
"I gotta piss," Daryl responds as he stands up.
"But... but," you whisper, as the darkness around you and the glint of small animal eyes make you feel uneasy.
"Don't be a wuss, I'm just right around the corner," he reassures you before disappearing into the inky darkness.
Your heart pounds with fear as you look around at the unfamiliar surroundings, the little golden eyes of small animals seemingly watching you from the shadows. You quickly scurry into your tent, seeking refuge from the ominous darkness outside.
Once safely hidden within the familiar confines of the old tent that has been a part of your family since your childhood, you pull out a small, battery-operated lamp and light it up. The soft glow illuminates the interior of the tent, casting shadows like a projection screen thanks to the reflection of the nearby fire on the surrounding trees. You try to focus on something else to take your mind off the scary shadows.
And as you sit there, the image of Daryl consumes your thoughts, and you can't help but smile as you ponder the idea that has been percolating in your mind for some time now. You are uncertain about how he would take it, but with a huff of bravado, your fingers fumble as you immediately start unbuttoning your shirt, using your feet to kick off your shoes in a swift motion.
You have thought about this moment, touching yourself as you think of him. Ever since the incident on your first date, your relationship has progressed to one of emotional affection and deep conversation. Even though there has been no physical intimacy, you feel completely owned by him, body and soul.
As you start to unbutton your pants, your hands tremble, and nervousness tightens inside your stomach. The anticipation and fear of rejection mingle with the longing to experience something new with the boy who has become your universe. A week after that fateful night when he first came knocking on your window, you decided to take matters into your own hands and went to the local pharmacy to pick up a pack of contraceptive pills. You knew that you wanted him to be your first and that it was only a matter of time before you two took things to the next level. It was best to be prepared and take the necessary precautions.
Peeling off your bra and panties, your stomach churns with nerves and anxiety. You can hear Daryl's voice outside the tent, calling out to you, "You big baby! I told you I ain't goin' anywhere, just around the corner."
You swallow hard, feeling the dryness in your throat, and run your fingers through your hair, trying to fluff it up as you kneel there, completely naked. Your heart races as you hear the sound of the tent unzipping, and you hold your breath as he crawls inside.
Time seems to slow down as you watch him freeze in his tracks upon seeing you, causing him to choke on his own saliva before quickly looking away and coughing awkwardly.
"My bad, didn't know you were changin'," he stammers, fumbling to turn around and leave the tent.
"I wasn't," you say quickly, shifting closer. "I was waiting for you," you whisper, your voice barely audible. His back is to you, but he doesn't move. You feel your heart thump loudly in your chest and slowly reach to touch the back of his shirt, hoping to get his attention.
"Hey, you can look at me, you know," you say softly, gently grabbing onto his shirt with your fingers. He takes a deep breath and gathers himself before slowly turning around in the cramped tent. The small lamp casts a warm and soft glow, providing enough light for him to see you clearly. He starts at your face, and you brush your hair back, watching as his eyes take in every inch of your body. You feel his gaze linger on your neck, then move down to the valley between your breasts, perky and full.
As his eyes move down the curves and lines of your stomach, you notice his breathing getting heavier and more labored. His gaze settles on the soft, wispy dark hair between your legs, and you can see him visibly shaking, his hands clenching and unclenching as if he's struggling to control himself.
"Do you want to touch me, Daryl?" you ask, your voice quivering with anticipation as you force your body to remain still under his gaze. Despite your bravado and wild fantasies, being in front of him makes you feel shy and vulnerable. It's the first time you've ever been naked in front of a man, and the last time you were half-clothed, it was also for him.
Slowly, you lift your gaze to meet his, your fingers nervously playing with your hair as insecure thoughts plague your mind. You expected him to have cold feet, but it takes you by surprise when he gives you a hesitant nod.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as he looks at you with lost eyes, as if he's been seduced by your mere presence. In that moment, all of your self-conscious thoughts melt away, replaced by the heat and desire in his gaze. It's almost suffocating, making your breath hitch and your heart race.
Without delay, you take a step closer, kneeling only inches apart from him. "Then touch me, Daryl. Make me yours forever," you whisper, every nerve in your body crackling with electricity. A rush of warmth floods your core, the tingling sensation between your legs only intensifying with every passing second.
You're not sure if you pressed yourself against him or if he pulled you into his embrace, but either way, you find yourself in his arms. His lips inhale you as though he's been starving for your touch, and the kiss deepens rapidly. His tongue meets yours, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your arms wrap around his neck, while his hands circle around the small of your back. His fingers travel down fervently to grasp your ass, eliciting a moan from your lips.
As you fall backwards into the sleeping bag, he pushes into you with feverish intensity. Your fingernails scratch his skin as you yank on his shirt, feeling the growl emanating from his chest as he roams your body. Daryl's fingers fill with the soft suppleness of your breasts, squeezing your hard nipples with just the right amount of pressure. His hands and lips explore every inch of you, as if unable to keep still for even a moment.
You fight to peel off his shirt and he lifts his head up to let you. When he returns, skin against skin, he's burning up, making you tremble against him as he runs his fingertips freely over your body. His kisses wander to the side of your jaw and you throw your head back to give him better access to your throat. The fervent kisses he plants there send sparks of pleasure throughout your entire being, coaxing small gasping breaths from your lips.
One of his hands smooths down your back, coming to rest on your buttock, and he digs his firm fingers into the muscle, pulling you up closer to him. You let your arms drift from around his neck, coming down over his broad shoulders, feeling the strength of his muscular arms. Every feminine part of you craves more of his touch, and you can't help but respond to the feel of him.
As his lips trail down your body, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake, your heart races with anticipation. Your nipples harden at the soft brush of his tongue, and without thinking, your hand reaches for the buttons of his pants, eager to feel more of him.
But before you can go any further, Daryl's hand jerks, grabbing your wrist to stop you. He pulls his lips away from your nipples with a pop, leaving them wet and cold in the open air. His eyes widen in uncertainty, his chest heaving as if he's just run a marathon.
"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice breaking with breathlessness.
You bite your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yes, I'm sure," you whisper, feeling shy and inexperienced. You've never done this before, but you're not ashamed in front of him. You trust him completely.
"I've never...you know," you confess, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Daryl looks at you for a moment, and you suspect that he, too, is a virgin. You know him well enough to understand that he's not the kind of man to simply jump into bed with anyone just because it's available.
"Me neither," he finally admits, his gaze never leaving yours.
"If you're ready, then I'm ready," you whisper, opening your legs slightly and letting him see just how much you want him.
With a nod, he slowly edges his hand towards the waistband of his pants. You hold your breath, watching as he kicks off his shoes and unzips his pants. It's both intoxicating and embarrassing to be so exposed to each other like this. Even though you know him better than you know yourself sometimes, you can't help the heat rising in your cheeks as you see your first naked man, and as you watch him watch you, his eyes heavy-lidded and almost black with desire.
As he lowers himself towards you, you eagerly lift yourself up to meet him, your lips seeking his with greedy hunger. His hands roam everywhere, igniting a frenzy of gasps and moans that fill the small space of the tent. The hard length of his cock pressing against your thighs only serves to intensify the heat between you, and your body responds naturally, growing wetter by the second.
Your eyes close in bliss as Daryl's fingers run down your stomach, dipping shyly between your legs. You gasp as he teases his fingers between your slick wetness, exploring your folds with a skill that leaves you breathless. It's a different sensation than when you touch yourself, and your clit throbs and tingles under his touch. His name slips from your mouth, and his cock twitches against your thigh in response.
As he removes his hand, you almost want to cry out in frustration, but your cry becomes a gasp as Daryl swiftly lowers himself, his face moving towards your core. You watch him with wide eyes, your fingers gripping the sleeping bag tightly as he looks at your wet pussy.
Unable to hold back any longer, you cry out in pleasure as he dips his head and his tongue tentatively meets your opening. "You taste good," he says in amazement, as if discovering something new and wonderful. It's a reminder that this is his first time too, and he's experimenting as he goes.
He eagerly returns to your throbbing pussy, and your anticipation builds to a fever pitch. Your eyes roll back in your head as he sucks and kisses your clit with fervor, the intensity of his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your back arches at an impossible angle as you lose yourself in the sensations, consumed by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.
He lifts your ass with a firm hand, and you wrap your legs around his head, desperate to keep him locked to your wet center. You have never experienced such ecstasy before, and your toes curl as the only sounds that fill the air are your own meows of pleasure and the wet, intoxicating noises of his ministrations.
Your body is on fire, and a constant low moan lingers in your throat as you keep arching your back, almost floating off the ground. Nothing exists except for Daryl's tongue and his warm, calloused hand, the vibrations of his groans reverberating through your clit and sending shivers down your spine. Sweat beads on your back as your body reaches its limit, and you feel like a rubber band that's been pulled to its breaking point.
But Daryl never pauses, eating you like a man possessed. It doesn't take him long to bring you to the brink, and as something snaps deep within your core, your whole body vibrates with pleasure. A gasp escapes your lips as you come undone, your nails digging into the fabric of the bedding.
Small gasps continue to escape through your parted lips as you try to catch your breath. Daryl moves over you, brushing your sweat-streaked hair away from your face with tenderness.
"Was that okay?" he asks, and you can't help but laugh, your fingers running through his hair and back.
"That was better than okay," you tell him, your voice husky with desire. "Are you sure you've never done this before?" you tease, and he chuckles at you.
As he presses down on you and kisses your sweaty neck, your laughter dies down, replaced by a deep yearning. Your legs are on each side of him, his hard cock gently pressing against your opening.
Reaching down, you close your hand around him, and it's as though you are holding a warm iron rod covered in soft, supple skin. As he groans at your touch, you wonder how he will ever fit inside you. Biting your lip nervously, you tentatively move your hand up and down, unsure if you're doing it right.
With a soft thrust, his hard cock angles upwards, gliding between your lips so his head slides over your clit with each thrust, the wetness of you seeping into the fabric of the sleeping bag. With a shaky finger, you guide his throbbing cock to your entrance, feeling the heat emanating from his body as it presses against yours.
Your hands on his back, your fingers run up his spine, tracing the ridges of his scars as he slowly penetrates you inch by inch, his hot breath fanning out over your sweaty throat. Your nails dig into his skin, the pain mingling with the pleasure that courses through your body.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, concern etched into his voice.
You shake your head, clenching around him as he fills every available space inside of you. Your body shakes with the intensity of the sensation, and he kisses your forehead and brows, his movements gentle as he thrusts inside of you, stretching you to fit him perfectly.
The contours of his hard cock hit all the right spots you didn't know you had, and even though the pain is there, it's a new feeling of being full, a pleasure that's different from anything you've ever experienced. Bracing yourself against his shoulders, you allow him to set the pace, thrusting inside of you while pulling your hips towards him. Sounds spill from your lips that you didn't know you could make, the pleasure overwhelming your senses.
He lets out hard puffs of breath, grunting with the effort of shoving himself inside of you over and over again, and it turns you on even more. It feels so good, so, so good, and you want to touch him all over, your hands running over his muscular arms, dancing over his rippling abdominal muscles that tighten from the effort. You lose yourself in the moment, your bodies moving in perfect sync.
As you surrender yourself to him, your legs open wide, and his hard cock slides in and out of you, the intensity of the pleasure building inside you almost unbearable.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god!" you pray out loud. The look on his face indicates that he's barely holding on, but he doesn't stop. Instead, he grabs you under your ass, pulling your legs further apart to give him the leverage he needs to thrust into you with even more intensity.
Despite wanting to see him, you have to close your eyes as the pleasure inside you intensifies. You can feel the wave building, and it crashes over you like a freight train, causing your whole body to convulse and tremble.
Your walls tighten around him, drawing him in deeper, and then everything goes white. You feel him gripping your legs tightly as he too reaches his climax inside you, his throbbing release filling you up with his warmth.
Afterward, you lay there with him on top of you, feeling his weight and warmth pressing down. His cheeks are flushed, and sweat glistens on his forehead. He pulls out and slides off you, leaving you feeling empty and dazed. You close your eyes, feeling sleep wash over you like a warm, comforting blanket.
As you awaken, you feel disoriented and unsure of how long you've slept. The darkness outside engulfs you, and the campfire that once illuminated the area has faded away into nothingness. Your portable lamp provides a feeble source of light, and as you adjust your position, you feel the hard ground beneath your back through the thin sleeping bag. Suddenly, you sense something touching your feet, and your eyes dart down to see Daryl sitting at the foot of your sleeping bag. The blanket you brought along covers his private parts while half-covering you.
"What are you doing?" you ask, furrowing your brows in confusion.
"Just thinkin'," he responds, absentmindedly fiddling with your toes. "You paint the tip white here too," he remarks, gesturing towards your French-tipped toes.
"What's on your mind?" you question, curious about what's been occupying his thoughts. You suspect it's late, but you're unsure of the time.
Daryl remains quiet, lost in thought for a few moments before finally speaking up. "The future," he says, his voice low and pensive. "In a few months, school will be over, and then what? What comes next?"
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden line of questioning. "College, of course," you respond confidently, having already submitted your application to a few. "I was going to ask you once I received my acceptance letter," you admit, unsure if this is the right moment to bring up the topic. "But I was hoping you'd come with me."
Daryl arches an eyebrow, curiosity etched across his face. "And do what, exactly?" he inquires.
"Live in a new city, plan, and figure out our future," you reply determinedly, having already pondered the idea in the quiet of the night when sleep evades you. "It's only a plan, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately."
A note of sadness creeps into Daryl's voice as he responds. "Where you're going, your future," he says, shaking his head. "I ain't gonna fit into your world."
With a sigh, you rise to a seated position, taking the blanket with you. "Then we'll create our own," you declare with conviction. Perhaps, it's the intimacy between you tonight that seems to urge him for more, keeping him awake with thoughts.
"I'm nobody," he says, his expression pained, and your heart aches at the defeat in his voice. "I ain't gonna be able to give you the life you deserve."
Without hesitation, you take his hand, squeezing it firmly. "Yes, you can!" you insist, your voice unwavering. "And why do you always say that? I hate it when you say that. You're not a nobody." Your touch is gentle but firm, and when you pull him closer, he follows until you both fall back onto the sleeping bag. You wrap the blanket around the two of you, creating a cozy cocoon in the darkness.
"Why can't it be you?" you ask, lying side by side as your eyes searching his face. "Do you think there could be someone else out there who could care about me more than you? Love me more than you? You don't have to answer out loud but answer it to yourself."
In your heart, you already know he loves you, even though he hasn't said it. The way he holds you, kisses you, and looks at you with such tenderness is proof enough. But if you've misread his feelings, then you're as gullible as your mother thinks.
"Daryl, I hope you know that I take us seriously. You're not just some boy I'm dating. You're the boy I hope to plan my future with... if that's what you want," your voice is soft but firm.
You both are young, but not kids. The future looms large, and it's time to start thinking about what you want. "Does your future include me? Is that what you want?" The question hangs in the air.
"Of course, I want that... I want you," he whispers, his finger delicately brushing strands of hair away from your face before he reclines back onto his back, the weight of his words seemingly crushing him. "It's just...ain't no way I can have it. Things never really work out for me,"
"Yes, it can," you say firmly, your voice brimming with conviction. "We just have to work for it." You know the negative thoughts drilled in his head by his father are his constant companion, and you refuse to let him win.
As you lean over him, your chin resting on his bare chest, your legs intertwined with his, warmth radiating through you. "When my grandma died, she left me some money," you say, your voice low. "It's just sitting in a bank waiting for me to turn 18 in a few months."
When your grandfather passed away, your grandmother inherited his illicit fortune. She was a woman who grew up during the world war, a generation where women relied on men to bring home the bacon. But as her only grandchild, she left everything to you, so you never have to rely on a man.
"I plan on using some of it to pay for college," you tell Daryl, determined not to be burdened with a lifetime of debt for a fancy education, especially since you'll be paying for out-of-state tuition. After all, you will most likely end up attending Columbia University in New York. This is where your father received his law degree, and where your family legacy began with your grandfather's migration to the Big Apple.
"You've got a knack for working with your hands, and it's something you enjoy. Even if you're thinking about dropping out of school, I can help you get your GED," you speak with an earnest tone, "You could even get certified and gain some real, hands-on experience as a mechanic in whatever state we end up in. And we take some of that dirty old money and open you a shop."
"I ain't no charity," Daryl scoffs, averting his gaze from you.
"This isn't charity," you stress, bringing his chin back towards you and locking eyes with him. "it's a business loan towards our future. You work hard and pay me back every penny, no interest. Or if you'd rather, you could pay me back the interest in the bedroom," you add with a playful wink and a laugh.
Your mind races with possibilities as you gaze at Daryl, confident in his potential. "I can see it so clearly," you muse out loud, lost in a dreamy state. "We'll buy a plot of land outside the city, close to the woods and mountains, so you can still have your stars. We'll build a cozy home with a big porch and a fire pit. We can even adopt a few dogs to go hunting with you. A chicken coop would be lovely too, where we could harvest fresh eggs. Every morning, I'll whip up a slightly overcooked breakfast for you," you grin, knowing he'll eat it anyway because he loves you.
Daryl chuckles, never taking his gaze away from your radiant face. "Chickens, huh?" he responds, clearly entertained by your enthusiasm.
Excitedly, you continue with your grand plans, "We could even get some goats. Have you seen how adorable baby goats are?"
Daryl raises a brow, an amused glint in his eye. "And pray tell, who's gonna be takin' care of all these animals?" he asks, a hint of skepticism in his tone.
You laugh and lean your head back on his chest, feeling his warmth envelop you. "Why, you, of course! I don't know the first thing about taking care of livestock," you reply cheekily.
As his fingers glide through your silky tresses, you speak softly, continuing your daydream. "We could even get married and have a couple of kids," you whisper, a soft hum in your voice. "And on lazy Sunday afternoons, I could sit on the front porch sipping coffee while watching you teach our children how to hunt and shoot a crossbow or mow the lawn."
"Seems like I'll be the one doing all the heavy liftin'," he grumbles teasingly, his voice vibrating beneath your head.
"I'll be a modern woman with a career, but a traditional wife at home," you remark, letting out a carefree giggle, but your tone becomes serious as you look up at him. "I'll cook every meal, clean up after all my Dixons in our home, and take care of you in every way a woman is supposed to take care of her husband. I'll support you in every way you need me to." You can see the emotion in Daryl's eyes as he listens to your heartfelt words.
Together, you will build a life overflowing with love and laughter, the complete opposite of how he grew up, a life that overflows with joy and happiness, where he never has to hunt for meals again. And when the time comes, he will make a wonderful father, kind, warm, and selfless, just like the man you fell in love with.
"If this is the future you want, believe in yourself, trust in me," you urge, leaning in towards him, your hands tenderly cupping his face.
But as he looks back at you, you can see the vulnerability, doubts and fears that have been eating away at him, his father's words still echoing in his mind. "What if I can't... What if I ain't enough?" He questions.
"You are enough, god, Daryl, you are more than enough." You respond, your voice wavering as you catch the glistening of tears in his eyes. Drawing him close, you plant a tender kiss on his lips before pulling him tightly against you, his head nestled in the crook of your neck.
"Even if things don't go according to plan, even if we fail, I am content," you say, looking into his eyes. "I would sleep with you under a bridge if it came to it. But we won't fail, not if we try. I just want us to try." As you stroke his back, you trace the scars with your fingertips.
As silence envelops the small tent, you both contemplate the weight of your words. You know it could work; you can feel it in your bones. "I love you," he whispers, barely audible. "I been in love with you since the library, you know."
Your heart soars with his words, a bright flame igniting within you as you hold him tighter than ever before. "I know," you whisper back, your smile brightening your face. "You and me, we're unstoppable. Together, we're infinite - and even beyond that."
Notes:
what really annoys me about the walking dead is when they fuck up on simple detail. In season 4, Beth shoots Daryl's crossbow. in the same season, when Daryl is with the claimers, they mention his crossbow has 150lb the draw weight. Beth shouldn't be able to shoot it so easily, and in season 6, Dwight says it has a serious kick, and he is struggling to shoot it. In fact he accidentally shoots Denise because of the force of the kick.