Your legs were propped up on the fireplace of your house in Alexandria and your back rested against the sofa chair behind you. The warmth from the fire radiated from the ashes to your feet and you wrapped the blanket draped around your shoulders tighter to your body to trap in the heat. As you took in a breath, you exhaled by wheezing from your scratchy throat. You sniffled and nuzzled your face closer into your book as you heard the front door open and cold air gush in.
It was an unusually cold day in Alexandria and if there was one thing you hated more than talking to people, it was the cold. It made your lips chapped, made you sick as all get out, and it was so much work to get back warmth. However, the cold gave you an excuse to sit inside and not have to face people. Ever since the group with the leader named Rick joined, things in Alexandria finally began to slightly look up. You had been in Alexandria since the very beginning, so you never really had to fight unless times called for desperate measures. You were very nervous around their group, as they all seemed very placid and standoff-ish. After they had finally settled into their separate houses, you had gone to the couple, you assumed, named Abraham and Rosita, living next to you and offered to have dinner with them. Rosita slammed the door in your face and that was how you had first met her. You took it as a lesson and only spoke to them if you needed. After all, you were practically invisible in this community. You live alone in your house and offer your services to guard the gate. There was one person in the group that had didn’t seem too guarded and her name was Carol. She was the one person you talked to the most. She would come over to your house or you would go to hers and you two would exchange various recipes. After a few times of going to her house, though, you preferred for her to visit yours. The man she lived with, Daryl, would make rude, snide comments every time you were around and you felt extremely uncomfortably under his heavy stare. If you weren’t so timid, you would’ve slapped him by now.
“Hey! Where are you at?” Carol’s voice chimed through your living room. You pushed yourself up and set the book and the blanket down on the chair behind you.
“I’m here,” You responded, coughing up a lung in the process.
“Oh God, it’s this weather that’s made you sick isn’t it,” she sighed, grabbing a pot from under your stove.
“I can’t seem to make out why it all of a sudden has just gotten so cold,” you rubbed your hands over your dry skin.
She looked through your cabinets, looking for whatever recipe she was going to show you today.
“Damn, you don’t have any broth,” she said, shutting the cabinet and putting back the pot.
“What were you going to make?” you asked.
“Well, I was going to make you some homemade chicken noodle soup, but it appears you don’t have the ingredients,” she paused, grabbing your hand and leading you to the door. “I will just have to make it at my house.”
“Carol, no, you know I can’t stand Daryl,” you whined.
“Look,” she said, leading you out the front door into the frigid air. “You need some soup and possibly some medicine. If he says anything I will just slap him or something. He listens to me, I promise.”
You groaned as you walked through the cold air, wind cutting into the skin on your face, wrapping the worn jacket tighter over your body. Carol lead you up the stairs to her house and you entered, warmth engulfing your body again. You shed your jacket, hanging it onto the coatrack, and you headed into her kitchen. You saw Daryl lounging on the sofa, cleaning his arrows. At the sight of you entering and looking at him, he looked into your eyes, and for just one slight moment you thought he wouldn’t say anything. But you were wrong.
“What the hell you lookin’ at?” he asked. You averted your eyes to the ground and he went back to cleaning his arrows. You shook your head and headed the the island that sat in the kitchen. Carol was already preparing the stove when you asked, “Are you gonna show me the recipe?”
“Maybe some other time,” she said as Daryl got up, walking into the kitchen and stood right next to you, as if intentionally winding you up. You stiffened as you felt his eyes land on you, then down your body. “But for now you just need to get well. Daryl,” she addressed and he tore his eyes from you to meet hers. “Can you please get her the medicine from Denise?”
“I ain’t getting nothin’ for her,” he said, starting to walk back to the couch.
“Daryl,” she said more stern, as if reprimanding a child.
“The hell’s she ever done for me?” he asked. You focused on the bubbling broth on the stove. Daryl sighed and muttered something under his breath before grabbing his crossbow and heading out the door, making sure to slam it.
“What have I ever done to him? You asked, anger bubbling in your chest.
“Don’t worry about it, he’s just Daryl,” she said resuming her recipe.
“Shit,” she cursed, slamming the cabinet door. “I should’ve told him to grab me some carrots.”
She walked to the door and threw on her jacket, talking to you in the process.
“Sorry about this, I will be right back. If Daryl returns, just don’t egg him on. Watch over the broth for me.”
You didn’t even have a chance to argue before she shut the door, leaving you in silence. You rose from your seat, looking into the pot where canned chicken broth bubbled. You clutched onto the wooden spoon, stirring it ever so softly.
The front door opens and closes again after a few minutes and you look up to see the dark eyes of Daryl. He carries the bottle of medication in his large hand and gruffly sets it down on the counter next to you.
“Thanks,” you mumble, eyes locked on the soup. He scoffs in response.
“Yeah, whatever, you should be thankful.”
Something deep inside you snaps and maybe it’s because of the sickness you had or the raging sexual tension you endured when around him, but you don’t hold back as you throw the spoon back into the pot.
“What the fuck is your problem?” You roar.
“Woah, see that? You can fuckin’ talk,” He rolls his eyes. You storm from around to the island to right under his nose.
“What the fuck did i do to you? I’ve barely spoken to you and you are always fucking commenting on me or staring at me! Either stop fucking talking to me all together or tell me what the fuck I’ve done wrong!” you shout. Daryl pauses for a moment, and you see something in his eyes that you’ve seen too many times. But this time he acts on it. He grabs you by your shoulders and shoves you against the nearest wall and boxes you in with his arms.
“Wanna know what the fuck you did wrong?” He mutters, anger dripping from his voice. “I’ll tell you. Ever since I first saw you, I can’t stand it. You’re always parading around with that perfect fuckin’ body of yours and all I want to do when I see you is pin you down to my damn bed and fuck you so hard you can’t see straight and you’re screaming my name and squirting all over my cock. And that’s what I’m gonna do,”
You look up at him, eyes wide, a nervous lust coursing through your body with Daryl’s words. “B- But I’m sick, you’ll get sick.”
“You know what, I wish I gave a damn,” he moans, getting closer to your face.
You take his sentence in and your breath hitches, looking into his eyes. With your newfound, lust-powered confidence, you pull him close to you, almost kissing him and whisper, “Then fucking kiss me already.”
The second the words leave your lips, you pull Daryl’s face to yours, roughly dragging your lips over his. He sloppily kisses you and throws his hands around yours and shoves them against the wall above you, locking your arms above your head. You gasp as his hands tighten over your fragile wrists.
“You’re so damn quiet all the time, who knew you could be so dirty,” he groans. Keeping one of his hands locked around your wrists, he drags his hands down your body and feels for the button of your jeans. His lips harshly suck on the skin of your neck as his hands delve into your pants, coming in contact with your panties. His fingers start to rub your clit and you moan out loudly. He pulls his hand back and you whimper at the loss of contact, but suck in a breath when his fingers dive into your panties. He runs a finger up your already-slick folds, collecting the wetness on his fingers. He pulls his hand back again and holds the finger up to your face.
“Such a fuckin’ dirty slut. Lick my fingers,” he commands and you are far too aroused to argue. You run your tongue up his finger, tasting your salty-sweetness. You wrap your lips around his fingers, as if teasing him. In the midst of your acts, you hear Carol’s voice outside talking to whoever was accompanying her. Daryl whispers in your ear, “To be continued.”
You button your pants and shakily walk back to the stove, smoothing your hair over your neck where there was undoubtedly love bites. Daryl goes to lounge on the couch, then Carol enters, hanging her coat back up. You reach for the medicine and get a pill out and Carol takes a closer look at your face.
“Your cheeks are flushed,” she points out. You reach for your cheeks. “Do you feel worse?”
“I’m okay, I think it’s just a bit… hot in here,” you shrug, looking at the ground and slipping the pill in your mouth and sitting at the island while she continued to make you soup.
It’s late that same night and you are just getting out of the shower. The towel was wrapped around your body and you turned to look in the mirror at your reflection. You pull your hair back and gaze at the single bruise that stayed planted on your neck. Your eyes were glowing with excitement and you wondered if he was going to show up at your house that night. You don’t know what had happened to you, but you had no problem with it. You dry the rest of your body off and slip a shirt over your bare breasts and slip a pair of pajama pants on on top of some black panties. Like clockwork, your front doorbell rings. You walk out of your room and into the foyer of your house. You reach for the door and open it. Daryl rushes in, almost as if he was going to be late, and slams the door behind him. He grabs your face and connects his lips to yours, not an ounce of gentleness in him.
“Lead me to your room right now,” he gruffly mumbles. You comply, walking quickly to your room with him in tow. You turn to face him, back to the bed and you fall back, arms open and legs sprawled out. He moans slightly, but crawls on top of you, shedding his shirt in the process. He grabs the thin shirt you’re wearing and nearly tears it off of you. He groans again when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. He presses his hands to your breasts, tweaking your nipples as his mouth comes in contact with the left nipple. He licks around it and gently bites it, doing the same to the other. He massages them together and kisses in the valley between, his lips sloppily making wet kisses all the way down to the elastic of your pants. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your pants and panties, dragging them down your legs.
“God, I’ve been thinking about this cunt ever since our encounter earlier,” he says, his mouth inching closer to your center. However, when your hands tangle themselves in his long hair, he shoots himself up. He turns to your closet, yanking it open. He sees a flannel and yanks it off the hanger, turning back to you. He crawls on top of you.
“Put your hands up,” he commands. You gladly put your hands above your head, smirking at him. He ties your hands together in a tight knot.
“Listen here,” he whispers, his hands reaching up to wrap around your neck, constricting your airways. You moan. “You like this don’t you, you dirty girl. But one thing, you moan, you get punished. Got it?”
You nod, gasping for air when he lets go. He scoots down back to your core and settles his head between your legs. He lightly blows on your core and you’re already biting your lip, fighting moans threatening to tear from your chest. He finally licks a stripe all the way up your core, and your breathe in hard. He continues licking until one of his fingers dives into you suddenly. Your hips jolt at the contact, and you fight the feeling to moan. You feel your climax approaching fast and furiously, and you clench as tight as you can around his fingers. However, when his tongue comes in contact with your clit as his fingers ruthlessly dive into you, you let out a yelp, forgetting the rules. All at once, his actions stop. You pick your head up, gazing at him. He sits back, unbuckling his pants. He slides them down his legs and steps out of them.
“I done told you to not speak a word,” he mutters.
“I… I just…” you whimper as he slowly crawls over you again.
“Look’s like you need to be taught a fuckin’ lesson,” he shrugs. Suddenly, he flips you onto your stomach and grabs fistfulls of your backside as you rise on all fours. Your arms are twisted against the bedpost, but that was the last thing on your mind. Without any warning at all, he shoves himself inside of you, already setting a pace.
“Speak,” he moans. “Tell me how good it feels.”
You immediately yelp out, “Shit, Daryl, you feel so good!”
He continues to relentlessly thrust into you, making the bed rock violently underneath you. Each time he thrusts, the bed hits the wall and your sure your neighbors can hear you moaning. Daryl reaches down to the flannel shirt and rips it untied, reaching down to wrap his hands around your throat again. He pulls your neck upwards, your body sitting straight up against his chest on your knees. With your new freedom from the restraints, you reach behind you, grasping at his hair and pulling it with the pleasure pulsating through you. He thrusts into you at the same pace and you moan out as his fingers leave bruises on your neck.
“Please, Daryl,” you gasp.
“Please, what? Use that quiet mouth of yours.”
“Fuck me harder,” you say.
A scream tears from your throat as he thrusts up into you even faster now. He finally realizes he hit the spot he’s been looking for when you throw your head back against his shoulder, not holding back moans as his other hand works on your clit on vigorous circles.
“Oh… oh shit,” you curse as you feel yourself approaching the edge, clenching around him.
“You better not cum until I say,” he says through gritted teeth, giving your throat one last squeeze before he throws you back down on all fours. He continues his thrusts and your hands are squeezing the sheets tightly and your teeth have sunk into your bottom lip, droplets of blood seeping into your mouth. When Daryl pulls out, you’re shocked at the sudden loss of contact, but he flips you on your back again and pushes your knees up to where your legs were going over his shoulders. He thrusts into you again, showing no mercy as he pushed your legs farther up. You screamed for him, nails running down his back so hard you’re sure you drew blood.
“Not yet,” he muttered, voice breaking as his own end was approaching. You screamed again, the pleasure too much for you to handle. You felt like a dam about to burst.
“Okay, baby. Cum for me,” he says. The second the first word left his mouth, you came with a shout, twitching and moaning repetitions of his name, the sound of skin slapping skin, moans, and the bed hitting the wall shaking the house. You kissed him through your climax, the passion and pleasure spreading through your body like a wildfire. You twitch beneath him as you finish your high. He still thrusts into you, but pulls out after a few final sloppy thrusts and starts to finish himself off over you. You move shakily, still surfing the aftershocks of your own high, so that you can help finish him off. You quickly wrap your hand around his slick shaft and pump, tongue teasing his head. He finally moans your name one final time before his load shoots out and coats your hand. His breath evens out and he sits back.
“Didn’t know you was a squirter.”
You chuckle slightly, “Neither did I.”
After you clean yourselves up you convince Daryl to stay the night and sleep with you, and he finally reluctantly agreed, crawling under the sheets with you.
“You’re gonna get sick, you know,” you say, sleep making your voice groggy. He shrugs.
“That’s honestly the least of my worries right now.”
“Why is that?” you inquire.
“Normally, I never woulda done something like… ya know, that. But this whole zombie apocalypse thing has made me think, why not take some risks ‘cause who knows what could happen tomorrow,” he says, thinking hard about his words, as if he was a child trying to put a sentence together.
“I can relate to that wholeheartedly,” you softly smile and pull him in for one last kiss before turning over and letting your heavy lids down and your soul slip into a sleep.
requests are open - i write for twenty one pilots and twd.
can you imagine being so ugly that when you see daryl/carol breathe on another person you immediately go: “they’re in love” but when daryl and carol are makin out with each others shoulders and beating on people for threatening to hurt each other you say: “oh thats just what brothers and sisters do to each other” just….imagine being that ugly
Daryl likes to trace the word “love” over and over her naked back assuming she’s sleeping soundly. Carol stirs, turns her head, looks him in the eye and mumbles “you too” before closing her eyes and going back to sleep. It’s only their first I love you’s but won’t be the last.
A/N: The whole time writing this, I blasted Better Than That by Marina and the Diamonds. Just felt like sharing lol!
Pairing: Reader x Carl x Enid
Type: Super Angst
Warnings: violence, brief blood, cursing
“What am I going to do!!” You screamed to yourself, running away from the window that was now walker-filled. You were scavenging in a random house trying to find any possible food for your weak body. When you found the hoard of walkers in the garage (now in the house) you ran to the bedroom and locked the door. You planned to escape through the window, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen. You put all your weight against the door to prevent walkers from coming in. You threw a chair against the door to hold it closed as you ran to the closet and started throwing things out of drawers. You found some bullets stuffed in the back of an underwear drawer. “Interesting” you commented before loading your gun. You threw off the chair and in came the walkers. You started shooting walkers, and when it was clear enough to get a strait shot to the back door, you ran, grabbing your one bag of supplies. You ran and ran until you reached the woods. There was still walkers everywhere. Your gun ran out of bullets and you reached for your knife, but resulted to running until the coast was clear. You were running when suddenly, a walker came out of nowhere and fell on top of you, causing you to fall on your arm and you heard your wrist snap. You screamed and you heard approaching footsteps. The walker went limp on top of you and you threw it off of you. You breathed a sigh of relief and stood up, dusting yourself off. You look up and see a guy about your age, reloading his gun. He has blue eyes and beautiful brown hair, and on top of it sits a brown cowboy hat.
“Are you okay? You almost got bit. Did it scratch you?” he asked, panting. You were too caught up in his eyes to answer, you just shook your head no and took his hand and he helped you up.
“Carl!” you heard another voice. You see a man with short brown hair and a beard running up, with a few others trailing behind.
"Dad, it’s okay. she was surrounded.“ The boy, Carl you guessed, said to the man with a beard. After telling the group how you were scavenging in a house, and how you were on your own, the man with a beard introduced himself.
“Well, I’m Rick, and this is our group. We’ve been traveling for a few days on foot until we find a camp. The previous group we were at… didn’t work out…” he trails off. "Where are you from?“
"Texas,” you said. “When it started, me and my friends families were together. Then we all got kidnapped by some gang, they killed some of our group. After we escaped, we stole a car and drove, with no destination, but as soon as we ended up at the Alabama border, it broke down forcing us to carry on foot. I’ve lost every member of my group because I was so unarmed. The gun I have is my dads, and this knife I found at the house I was scavenging at.” you breathed.
Rick was silent for a moment before saying, “How many walkers have you two killed?"
You laugh, dryly, "too many."
"What about people? How many people have you killed?"
You look at the ground and take a shaky breath, hating telling this story.
"A few. The people that killed some of our families back in our home state kept us hostage for god knows how long. But we managed to escape with the little family we had left. As I escaped, I had to kill most of their group until I felt safe. I only kill to survive, I don’t like killing people. But sometimes it’s necessary,” you said, feeling tears swimming in your eyes.
Rick put his hand on your shoulder, “It’s okay. We understand."
A small man came forward, "My names Aaron, and I’m just now leading them to my camp called Alexandria, would you like to come?"
You quickly nodded, relieved. Rick then introduced you to the rest of his group, and thats how you became a part of the infamous group.
But that was about a year ago. A year later, you now live in the Alexandria Safe Zone. A lot had happened. Alexandria had been taken over by a gang, and walkers. In the process, Carl got his eye shot out. But everything was calm, for now.
You shared a house next to Rick and Michonne’s with Carol and Daryl. Because you spent most of your time alone, you had started to go for walks for fun. When you would go on these walks, you would talk to Carl. You could feel yourself getting feelings for him, and you would bet all your weapons he felt the same way. Every time you are exploring together, you just feel the connection blooming, and you were hoping you and him could be more then friends.
You were pacing atop the wall of Alexandria, standing guard one night when you heard shuffling down below. You aimed your gun quickly, but Carl put his hands up.
"I just wanna climb up there."
You two had stood in silence for a while, enjoying each others company, when Carl spoke suddenly.
"Have you ever thought about being in love nowadays?” Carl thought out loud.
“I guess,” you answered nonchalantly, hiding your inner love for him.
“I mean, Maggie and Glenn made it work. I guess I could, if I meet the right person.” you said shyly.
When you said that, Carl looked over at you and you just stared at him, admiring him.
"How do you think you can find love in a world like this?“ he asked you, close to your face.
"What if I already have?” you whispered.
you started to lean in, and Carl pulled away and exhaled sharply.
“I cant do this."
You sat back and ran your fingers through your hair.
"Why not carl? You know how I feel about you. I know you feel the same way! What’s holding you back!? I’m sitting here in love with you and I can see it in your eyes but there’s something blocking you from showing it!"
He inhaled to reply, but you heard Sasha approaching the gate to take over your shift.
Carl had walked you to your home in silence. Just as you were about to turn and leave him, he pulled your face into his and kissed you passionately. He muttered a barely audible ‘I love you’, then he walked away into the darkness of the streets of Alexandria. You stood, frozen for a moment, but you turned to walk up the steps of your home, so which Daryl and Carol were sitting on the porch, talking. You didn’t want to talk to them, so you ignored Carol and walked in the house.
Morning had just broken over Alexandria. The sunrise was peaking over houses and you decided to shower and make breakfast. It had been three days since Carl had kissed you, and ever since that night, Carl has been missing. Either missing or avoiding you. You finished eating then left your house to go look for him. You were walking in between some houses when you heard the all-to-familiar voice. You walked a little further and you saw Carl leaning against a wall with Enid, the one girl in Alexandria you couldn’t stand.
"Don’t go, carl,” Enid whined.
"I need to go babysit Judith, please let go of me,“ Carl said sternly.
"Okay, but please don’t be too long,” she said pulling him close.
He sighed loudly. You saw her cling to his shirt and push herself onto his lips, slobbering all over his face. Suddenly your presence was known and both of them stared at you. Enid with a sadistic smirk and Carl with a face like a deer in the damn headlights. You were upset for a second, your heart broken. But that quickly faded, and it was replaced with a burning hatred for the both of them. You contemplated walking away, but before you did that, you let your rage out.
You walked up to Carl and pulled your hand into a fist, socking him right in the nose, causing him to fall on his ass.
“How dare you kiss me with the same lips you kissed her with,” you said, anger dripping from every word.
“How dare you say you love me with lips you kiss her with.”
Enid pushed your shoulder weakly, trying to seem tough. You laughed at her, then spat at her feet. You turned to Carl and motioned towards Enid.
“I mean really Carl? Enid?…” you said, getting really close to his face, “You can fucking do better than that, Jesus Christ,” you said.
You looked at Enid and scoffed, turning and walking away to home.
Carol and Daryl were sitting on the porch. Carol could tell you were fuming anger, so before you could walk in the house she stopped you.
"What happened, and don’t try to ignore me and shut me out,“ she demanded.
you looked down at your hand that was bruising and your knuckles were split open. Daryl got up as Carol grabbed your hand to examine it.
"Shit, Y/N, who’d you knock out?” Daryl asked.
“Carl,” you said, still angry.
Carol walked in to the house to get a wet paper towel and some bandages. You told them the whole story starting from the kiss all the way to the punch, tears falling.
“How stupid of me to think I was the only flower in his garden.”
Never forget that Daryl managed to make Carol smile and laugh only about two days after she endured the horrific events in the grove. She was in a very bleak place but still, Daryl running and hugging her was enough to make her smile and cry tears of joy. And Daryl being a clumsy, awkward dork and trying so hard to help her in any way he could, was enough to make her laugh.
It is worse now, I know. But that doesn’t mean Daryl no longer has this affect on her.
He has been able to make her smile and laugh even in the darkest of times. So I think there is a good chance that this is still true, and he will be able to get a smile and/or laugh out of her in 7.10.
Carol reuniting with Daryl and spending time with him, one on one, for presumably several hours - is actually, imo, the best chance we have at seeing her express some happiness.
No one else has a better chance at making her smile and laugh. Daryl has the power to do this.
“Hey, lil asskicker” Daryl whispered, walking to the toddler.
Carol stood in the doorway watching him quietly. Daryl just came back from a long day, was tired and grumpy and the first thing he did was visit Judith. It put him in an instantly better mood.
He picked her up in his arm as she cooed. Carol reminisced of when Judith was just a baby, Rick was off and Daryl fed her after going on a last minute run for her. Daryl cared for this child, like he did for Sophia and Carl. Maybe he saw the innocence in her, envied it. She didn’t have to fight for her life everyday, she just chilled at home. Maybe he wanted to relive his childhood, give her everything he didn’t get in his. Either way, it was adorable.
“Long day” Daryl sighed, speaking to Judith “No people. I swear we a’int gonna find no more, and I’m okay with that”
Judith couldn’t speak back but that didn’t matter.
“Negan has taken enough, more people, more victims. I don’t want nobody else gettin into this mess we’re in. We just got Carol back but it’s only to fight”
Carols heart filled with warmth hearing that.
“Ugh, you’re lucky you got a strong father like Rick, he’s good to you and all of us. I didn’t like him at first but he’s good, he’s my brother” Daryl turned around and saw Carol.
He stopped, his face turning red in embarrassment. He scoffed and shook his head with a smile. Carol just smiled at him.
LOL I just saw a post saying that the Melissa and Kh@ry vid is proof that C@rzekiel is happening because AMC allowed them to post it and that they haven’t allowed Norman and Melissa post that kind of videos because Caryl is never going to happen. So according to that person, Carol and €zekiel are going to be a couple for a long term because they posted a vid, approved by AMC, about their lovechild.
imagine Carol is a huge fan of Boondock Saints. one quiet night in Alexandria, Daryl suggests they relax and watch the movies together but ends up realizing she has a huge crush on that actor Norman Reedus. he cannot quite explain it but he doesn’t like how she keeps praising the guy’s so called “acting skills,” so he squirms and quirks, “too bad pretty boy must’ve been nothing but walker food.”