Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: This is a response fill for the USS Caryl's 2nd Fanfiction/Fanart Challenge on tumblr regarding the following prompt: (Scenario #2) "Natural disaster trope. Instead of the zombie apocalypse, some other country-wide/world-wide disaster has occurred." - As requested by Sempaiko.
Warnings: Contains spoilers for all three seasons of the Walking Dead, AU, smut warning, hurt and comfort, strong language. It also bears saying that I deviated slightly from the prompt in the process of writing this. It kind of became a mix between the natural disaster trope and scenario #3 – which was: "Where they are in 10 years. Post apocalypse trope (a cure is found)." - So, you might want to view this as a mixture of both prompts.
She woke up to the sound of screeching tires peeling off down the street, recognizing the squeal of worn brakes and the thunk-thunk-scrrrrraaape of a metallic underbelly ricocheting off the curb at high speed. She listened until the sound faded, gradually replaced by the distant din of honking horns and far away sirens as the world did it's best to render the last few strains of privacy they had left to them completely moot.
She expelled a long, pent up breath of air, feeling her chest expand to accommodate the action as she forced the hand that'd found its way underneath her pillow to retract. Her fingers hesitantly left the grip of her Glock .22 as the distant sounds of a city tearing itself apart at the seams retreated into the background. Old habits die hard and all that.
The midnight chill drifted in through the bedroom window, making her grateful for the warm duvet as she stretched - the movement luxurious and self-indulgent as her naked skin glided across the worn cotton sheets. Daryl stirred beside her, not quite awake as he turned over, squirming across the mattress until he had one arm curled around her side and his right leg anchored across the curve of her thigh, pulling her close.
She smiled into the gap between their pillows as a soft snore rose up into the hush. Typical.
She let her fingers spider across the covers, skimming idly down her naked skin as Daryl's warm exhale caused her nipples to stiffen, pulling tight in clear interest as he dug his face deeper into his pillow and pressed his hardness up against the curve of her ass. Coasting uncertainly between sleep and wakefulness as subconscious desires finally got the better of him.
She smiled wickedly. She loved him like this, all innocent and unaware. Not vulnerable, but open, hers to have and explore. She shimmied closer, teasing now as she moved her hips back against him. She knew she'd hit pay dirt when he grunted, snuffling into the curve of her ear for a few breathless moments before his hips started moving, rhythmic and appealing as a familiar, smoldering burn started churning in her lower belly.
The subtle slide of naked skin gliding across naked skin welcomed her home as she moved in his arms, pressing soft kisses into his chest, along his shoulders, and down his arms. She slowly coaxed him onto his back, swallowing his sleepy protests, stealing gentle, drive-by kisses from chapped lips as she rolled on top of him. She came astride him in a slow, unbridled movement as he stirred below her, hard and throbbing against her center.
He blinked up at her sleepily, bleary-eyed and messy hair, with sleep-mussed tufts sticking up in all directions. She smoothed one of his cow-licks behind his ear on reflex, letting her fingers linger as she took in the occasional patch of silver that had started coloring his temples. All else considered, the years had been kind to them both.
His gaze quickly sharpened, pitching headlong into wakefulness as he bucked his hips, letting her know he was more than on board with whatever she had in mind as she dipped her head down and-
The thwock-thwock-thwock of an approaching helicopter rippled through the quiet, startling them both. She stilled on top of him, on point as a police megaphone blared through the unnatural still. They were urging people to get indoors, to head to the nearest evacuation center or hunker down in their basements and wait for further instructions. They were acting like it wasn't too late, that the entire human race hadn't just run out of time.
Denial was a powerful thing, she supposed.
Daryl made to get up, his lips twisting, ugly and tense, but she pressed him back. The muscles in her thighs clenched as she stood her ground. She'd made her decision. Her hand was light on his chest as he let her push him back towards the mattress. His dark eyes found hers through the gloom as a search-light flickered through the curtains, reflecting off the wall length mirror set up on the other side of the room, highlighting the belongings they'd collected over the years, mementos of a life spent together.
But she just smiled.
She moaned as she sank down on him, spine stiffening all the way up as her inner muscles quivered, then relaxed, fighting to accommodate his girth as she took him in far too fast. But she didn't care. She wanted to feel him. Her clit throbbed as she ground herself against him, tugging playfully at the coarse tangle of hair that stood out at his groin, feeling completely unrepentant as he let go of a strangled sound.
She paused; he was peering up at her with that same old look of his, the one he'd never quite managed to lose despite the years that had passed since she'd tip-toed through the prison and quietly let herself into his cell, slipping between the sheets and settling in next to him as he'd nearly jumped out of his own skin. It was a look that existed somewhere in between pleasure and pain, excitement and disbelief – and it never failed to make her chest tighten in response.
He growled low in his throat as she firmed around him, tensing her inner muscles in an offbeat rhythm as her belly fluttered. He gripped her by the hips, his lower lip caught between his teeth as she began to move.
"Fuckin' move, woman."
She groaned, arching her back as she rose up, one hand braced against his chest as she started to ride him, sinking back down again and again until she finally found a rhythm that made her toes curl. He bucked into her, swearing loudly as her hips swiveled.
"Damnit, yes, com'on-…"
She could see their silhouette in the moon light, perverse and beautiful as they let their bodies move at random. They abandoned logic and conscious thought as she leaned down and stole a kiss, nipping at his pouting lower lip in a way that made him slam his hips against hers, making her hit a high note as he caught her by surprise. He mashed up against her cervix as somehow, his fingers entered the fray, searching out her clit even as she leaned down, bracing herself against his shoulders as she concentrated on keeping the rhythm.
Somewhere in the distance, a gas station exploded. Filling the air with the scent of singed petrol and burning ozone as a chorus of screams rose up to accompany it.
She knew if she looked outside now, if she arched her back and bridged her thighs as he met her, thrust for thrust, she'd be able to them, a million distant dots streaking across the horizon. They were brighter than any star, brighter than any satellite as they blossomed outwards, spitting petals of brilliant red and orange in all directions as they hurtled through the atmosphere, arrowing towards their final destination.
But she didn't look. Instead she let him roll her into the sheets, capturing her lips in a messy kiss, as she gave up the reins willingly. She let go of a cautionary hiss as his teeth grazed her neck. As gentle as always, but just rough enough for her to know it was him as he soothed each nip with his tongue and lips. The roughness was dependable, grounding.
She fisted her hands in his hair as he trailed stubbly kisses down the length of her chest and belly, one large palm pressing gently against her lower lips, warm and tantalizing as she squirmed underneath him, thrusting up into his hand encouragingly as he blew a stream of warm air against the thin thatch of hair that crowned her sex. Teasing.
Apparently two could play at that game after all.
A/N #2: Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! This is only my second foray into Caryl smut, so yeah. Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! – There will be one more part to this story; it will hopefully be up in the next few days.