Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: Vague spoilers for season four, meant to set in sometime after "Indifference" where I take a drastic AU from canon. Basically, all you need to know is that after being abandoned by Rick, Carol is turned by Vampires and left to her own devices. Things go badly at the prison as they do in canon, but instead of eventually all meeting back up again, Carol finds Daryl, turns him and then the happy couple finds Rick and…well…play with him a bit. - Written for anon on tumblr who wanted: "how about that Daryl and Carol sexy romp with Rick watching? I'm all up (teehee) for some self love."
Warnings: *Contains: adult language, torture-ish, rough sex, hint of slash, blow jobs, threesome-hints, a wee bit of minor character death, adult content, blood, blood drinking, vampires, bondage, dub-con in terms of Rick's involvement but nothing too bad (definitely dub-con/non-con in terms of his capture and turning which is only really alluded to), porn without plot, kinda-definitely evil!Caryl?
He woke to the sound of a familiar laugh – coiling and light. He didn't open his eyes. Too weary of the sting of red-rimmed irises and blood-stuck lashes. He'd learned that lesson before. Learned it the hard way. Learned it when his eyes had blown open and the lingering rays of the dying sun had made him scream in agony.
How long had he been like this?
He couldn't remember.
He'd known the answer once.
Back when he'd been fresh.
The chains criss-crossing his wrists were grounding – familiar – as he tentatively unfurled his new senses. But the hope that had flared high and bright in his chest muted itself just as quickly when he realized he wasn't alone. His nostrils flared. Blood. Sex. Wet. Old urine. The molding chill of the same concrete basement he'd woke up in a few days after the prison had fell.
"He's awake," Daryl purred, voice so close to his ear he startled, jerking himself away only to moan in pain when the silver-laced chains kept him pinned to the cement pillar. He drew his bare feet close from his place underneath the narrow strip of window. Knowing well enough what happened when they strayed too close to the bright.
He tried to turn around, to see where the hunter had gone, only to get a face full of muted sun and distant shadows. He recoiled, canines sinking deep into the plush of his lower lip, trying to keep out of the worst of the late afternoon light as new instincts and unfamiliar drives throbbed insistently just underneath his skin.
He was so thirsty.
"Mmmm…" Carol responded, throaty and rich from where she was lounging on the mattress in the center of the room. White sheet riding low on the small of her back as keen eyes watched him lazily. She seemed to come to some sort of decision as she looked him over, because soon enough she was stretching out - bold and deliberate. Baring her sex as eager fingers dipped between her legs, circling her nub almost teasingly before she offered them up for Daryl to wet. Never once looking away – keeping him captive - as Daryl sucked her fingers obediently, stroking the inner of her thigh hopefully until she pushed him away. Spreading her legs all the wider as she played with herself.
It had taken four days, but he'd eventually stopped trying to tell himself that he didn't enjoy the view.
This time her clit was swollen, angry and protruding. Crowning the deep pink of her as elegant fingers swirled expertly, showing him – her unwilling audience - exactly how she liked it. Teaching him as Daryl leaned back against the opposite wall, palming his cock with predatory interest as his eyes drifted between them hungrily.
She didn't call Daryl back until the tang of his own reluctant arousal scented through the air around their heads. Gloating smugly at her victory as she tipped her chin, fangs glinting in the low light – sphinx-eyed and dangerous - as Daryl pulled her in from behind, dick already hard and gleaming with excitement.
He lost time after that.
There had been a woman called Lori.
She'd been important.
Awareness returned in time to find himself humping air. Prick rubbing wetly across his navel - so hard he could cry - knowing he should be shivering as the concrete kissed his naked skin. But was too caught up in the fever of it to either notice or care.
"I want-" he started, fidgeting, voice raspy and dark as creamy thighs flexed. Watching as Carol rode the other man with a vicious sort of focus that had Daryl arcing and seizing underneath her, blood drunk as the twin punctures Carol had re-opened on the hunter's neck wept red.
The answering laugh was sing-song and cruel.
"Oh, sunshine, the newly born always want," she thrummed, watching him squirm, spine arching back at an unnatural angle as Daryl kicked back into her. Cussing under his breath as the slick of her wetness echoed, rebounding off the concrete walls as he met Daryl's eyes in the dark.
There had been recognition there once. Empathy. Other drives besides lust and thirst. He remembered that. Daryl had been angry. Angry when he'd told him how he'd left her behind. Angry when he'd tried to explain to him what she'd done. There hadn't been any time to see how the rest might have played out, before the Governor and his crew had rolled up to their gates – but he knew Daryl wasn't with him on it. Right from the start. He'd known that without question. He just figured they would have had more time to hash it out.
He shook himself, hearing Jenner's voice, plain as day as the word came back to haunt him.
You always think there's going to be more time.
Then, it runs out.
He struggled to remember what had come before. Fighting to retain the last scraps of the man that had existed before the dual pricks of sharp teeth sinking into either side of his neck. Before they'd claimed him. Before he'd slid to the floor – weak and cold – as Carol and Daryl had traded bloody, snarling kisses above him. Hissing out their pleasure and satisfaction before they offered the other their wrist and sliced open mirroring veins. Forcing him to drink as he'd struggled in their vice-grip – yelling for Michonne, Glenn, for Carl – anyone – as the warm, velvet-rich of his blood was fed back to him.
He'd screamed for days.
Body wracked by the change.
But no one came.
And that was a good thing…maybe.
"Tell me what you want, Rick."
He blinked, hearing her voice inside his head, sinking deep through platelets and cells. He gritted his teeth, hissing in defiance – or maybe just pain as the silver chains burned through another layer of diamond-cold skin.
He tried to look away. To look anywhere but where her and Daryl were still moving – hips rocking – purring with it as if the pleasure was almost too much - too decadent - until Carol rolled them, sitting back astride her lover as Daryl gripped her by the inner of her thighs, baring his teeth until she caught him between her legs and sank back down.
"Daryl was just like you, you know, like me," she told him, huffing out a series of breaths she didn't actually need as she licked a strip down the man's chest, sharp nails raking bleeding furrows down his belly. Worrying them deeper with her teeth until Daryl hiked her up, thumbing her clit as he growled out her name and came.
The 'after you left me' was silent, but he still felt the sting. Forcing himself not to react despite the fact that he knew she could tell. They both could. They'd made him after all – turned him – changed him.
"So stubborn. So determined. So good," she praised, rocking back and forth until Daryl sprawled back, over-stimulated. Setting her free to pad lithely over him, stroking the curve of his face with cum-streaked fingers, rubbing her and Daryl's release across stubble-strewn skin before she caught his chin in a vicious grip. "But the thirst always wins, you know that by now, don't you?"
He was partly aware of Daryl watching them, sated and loosely coiled from the mattress. Limp cock drooling between his legs. The sight making him shudder as he remember how he'd woken up after the blood and the pain with Daryl's lips wrapped snug around his cock. Drinking him down, an inch at a time, before deep-throating was an understatement and he came explosively before he could even take stock of where he was.
"I should thank you, you know," she whispered, nipping at the shell of his ear - fangs grazing. "I am strong now."
"You were always strong," he croaked, licking at cracked lips as his words made her pause – considering. There was flicker there, awareness, maybe even recognition before golden irises veiled themselves and the monster under her skin let go of an audible purr.
"It's time to evolve, Rick," she replied, red lips parting as she scented him, smoothing back a thatch of sweaty curls. Kissing him with surprising gentleness before she ruined it by wrenching him forward, splaying his legs as she straddled him. Sinking down on him in one smooth stroke as he sobbed in relief - despair. "It's time to listen to what the world is telling you…"
"You need to feed," she continued, breasts brushing against his chest, burning him up from the inside out as she stole a brutal kiss, then another. "Let me help you."
He nodded, whimpering. Not sure exactly which of the two he was actually agreeing to as her inner muscles flexed, encouraging him to meet her thrusts as something in him caved – breaking - and suddenly he was soaring.
When the shock of blonde hair and pink skin was thrown at the ground at his feet he didn't hesitate. The moment the chains slipped loose, he struck. Wrenching a pretty neck bare before tearing into it with a muted whimper of pleasure and relief.
He didn't remember that the prey had a name until he'd drunk his fill, gorging himself as her soft voice slurred out into nothing. Almost musical in its rhythm like she'd lapsed off into the gentle white of oblivion with a song on her tongue. But by that point, he was too far gone to care that she did.
A/N #1: Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! – This story is now complete.