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 1st Kinky/Non-Kinky Drabble Challenge on tumblr regarding the following prompt: "Daryl sees Carol is stressed, and catches her alone. He helps her get off - quick and dirty."

Warnings: Contains spoilers for all four seasons of the Walking Dead, sexual content, smut, strong language, and possible consent issues. Set during the fourth season, so watch or for spoilers, sometime in between the second, third, and forth episodes.


Chapter Two

She tried to inch forward; whether to get closer or to push him away, he didn't know. Either way, it didn't matter. He held her back, keeping her pinned against the wall like a butterfly tangled in a spider web - flighty and uncertain.

She needed this. He needed this.

"Relax," he grunted, thumbs tangling with the delicate edges of her underthings, tracing the freckles that dotted across her hipbones as he murmured into her skin. "I gotcha…"

And for all her protestations, he could already smell her. Heady and musky, just like always. Only this time it was better, her coal-grey panties were already soaked in the front, a testament to her need as she rubbed her thighs together, embarrassed and aroused as he chuckled.

His dick throbbed, pressing up against his zipper as he darted in, licking and sucking through the wet spot as her fingers dug deep into his hair. She was a fuckin' vixen. And worse? She knew it.

"Daryl…" It was breathy this time, needy. He grinned against her snatch, nibbling and rubbing his face against the fabric, thin and slick as she pressed herself against him.

God, he could hardly wait.

He tugged the panties down incrementally, enjoying her frustration as her eyes, blown dark and gleaming in the half light, slitted with pleasure. Her fingers tightened in his hair, telling him to hurry up, to get on with it - god damn it, and a hundred different shades of the exact same emotion as he tongued his way up her slit. He let the panties flutter to the ground, forgotten, as she made a sound, pitching and high in the back of her throat.

His girl.

She jumped when his tongue found her clit, her hands almost painful as they dug into his scalp. But his erection didn't flag – pretty much the opposite really. So sue him, he was twisted like that, alright? He liked it when she lost control, when she made it hurt.

Her pulse was racing under his tongue, throbbing,as he bathed the sensitive nub with a series of unrepentant little licks - lulling her into a slow, soothing rhythm that quickly had her hips rolling, panting now as she tried to grind herself deeper. He smirked. He could almost taste her frustration.

He gripped her by the hips, taking it as his due to keep her upright as he sucked a bruise into the inside of her thigh, shushing her whenever she tried to speak, to tell him that it wasn't enough, that she needed more. He growled into the curve of her hip, palming himself through his jeans as he mashed his jaw into the jut of her slit, tongue tracing around and around her nub, savouring the taste as a gush of fluid spread across his tongue - bringing her closer to the edge.

Her hand settled on top of his head, petting through his hair as he hummed against her, teasing her with the vibrations as the action elicited a breathy little whine.


But whatever it was she'd been planning on saying, they both lost track of it; they were too keyed up now, too invested. He loved her like this, so open and vocal, all raking nails and grabby hands. There was just something special about knowing you were the reason she was falling apart, you and no one else that was making her feel this way.

He spread her lips, wanting to get a better look at her. Her skin was flushed red, stinging with stubble burn, clit swollen and slick between her folds. She was a fuckin' mess, wild and his as her chest rose and fell above him. Her nipples, jutting and proud, had been pulled free of the bra that was now sitting crooked on her chest, barely there underneath the thin material of her shirt.

He rolled her clit with his thumb, keeping her with him as he licked a stripe down her center, once, twice, then again. He grinned into her skin as she mewled, thrusting into his face as he slid a finger in alongside his tongue, crooking it just so as she practically screeched – her eyes tightly closed, face pleasure-wrecked as she neared her peak.

His movements took on a new urgency, sensing how close she was as her pulse started to sing, hips jerking under his hands, face slick with her juices as he laid into her, slurping and mashing his thumb against her nub until all he could feel, all he could see, hear, taste and smell was her.


It was only when she stiffened, pulse flat-lining for a split second before every muscle in her body pulled tense, catapulting her off into subspace as her orgasm swept over the both of them, that he realized what else she smelled like.


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.