Twd Rick - Blog Posts

You're not going to believe this but I'm kind of writing one maybe oops

Judge me for only now watching the walking dead series, but I just finished Season 8 and now I'm starving for the regan ship guyssss. Where are youuuuu?

It was a dangerous idea, without getting spoilers onwards, but Ive read fics all the way up to the date season 9 started sooo

THERE ISNT ENOUGH ABO FICS? IM SURPRISED. I need someone to write where Alpha!Negan says "you're telling me your leader is an omega?? Well that's just badass as shit!"

BUT ALSO IN GENERAL, I'm gonna need you guys to write more Regan in general please and thank you (I could not write the amount of Negan-sayings that aren't just dick talk every 5 mins), I KNOW ITS BEEN YEARS BUT LIKE.... That'd be swell.

Judge me for only now watching the walking dead series, but I just finished Season 8 and now I'm starving for the regan ship guyssss. Where are youuuuu?

It was a dangerous idea, without getting spoilers onwards, but Ive read fics all the way up to the date season 9 started sooo

THERE ISNT ENOUGH ABO FICS? IM SURPRISED. I need someone to write where Alpha!Negan says "you're telling me your leader is an omega?? Well that's just badass as shit!"

BUT ALSO IN GENERAL, I'm gonna need you guys to write more Regan in general please and thank you (I could not write the amount of Negan-sayings that aren't just dick talk every 5 mins), I KNOW ITS BEEN YEARS BUT LIKE.... That'd be swell.

merle: bad born

muchnne: bad born

merle: fucking black

michonne: fucking white

merle: silly

Michonne: Dumb

Merle: kiss me

Michonne kisses him and slaps him for yelling at her.

Daryl who was in the room going to look for Merle just looking at what is happening without believing it.

Andrea: What the hell did I just see?

Rick: I don't know but I don't like him.

Daryl: They changed my brother, that's not Merle.

Google Classroom - Daryl Dixon

(and the rest of the walking dead)

Please come and visit! We would love to talk and see you around!

All of my work is collected here, as well as a place for us to talk, for you all to share your work or what your working on, get help, and of course, to talk about whatever we want!

Link: https://classroom.google.com/c/NTI5ODk0MjU4Mzc1?cjc=4o3eotm

Class Code: 4o3eotm

The End Will Justify It All - Chapter 4

A Negan Series

Chapter 3 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 1

Warnings - mention of death, mention of torture, other Walking Dead themes.

Part of me wants to apologize that these chapters are going so slowly, but I don't think I will. I do hope you're enjoying them, though! Feedback is always welcome.

She awoke the next morning, the sun higher in the sky than she’d expected, and a dread in her stomach like a rock. She fought to shake the grogginess of the two sleeping pills she’d taken last night – the first time she’d used the gift from Shery, although Sherry left a new supply in her room after every dinner with Negan. As the fog in her mind began dissipating, her memory wasted no time filling the open space with the events of the day before. She’d seen Daryl, worn down and abused, and decided to do exactly what Negan had asked of her. She wouldn’t let him be tortured more than he already had. Not because of her.

So she’d gone to dinner that night, not touching the food, and told him everything she was willing to risk. She drew the layout of Alexandria for him, noting the armory, the make-shift infirmary, and Rick’s house. She’d told him all about Rick. She told him about his love for Glenn and how hard his death would have hit Rick, about his family, the things that made him angry, the things that made him happy, but most importantly, the fears that drove him – the love for his people and the responsibility of protecting them. Negan wanted his next move, and she gave it to him. Keep driving home that he could take any of Rick’s people from him, threaten even one of them, and he’d fold like a lawn chair. She’d told him all about Carl and his recklessness. She’d even gone as far as to suggest that guns were known to be unaccounted for, from time to time.

Negan leaned back in his chair when she finished talking, nodding and staring at her, eyes narrowed as if he could see everything in her mind. “I think you’re holding out on me,” he said after studying her for a long minute. Her stomach dropped, but she gave no physical sign of nervousness. He leaned closer to her.  “Tell me,” he demanded, lifting her chin with his thumb grazing her lip. Her stomach fluttered at the touch. Nerves, she’d told herself, nothing more than fearing him.

He had guessed right. She did have another idea. She knew where it had come from, and she wasn’t proud of it. It had come to her while she soaked in her pre-dinner bath, from a part of her that had hardened and darkened after the world fell. A part of her she’d buried deep enough that she hadn’t felt its presence in months and thought she never would again. She hated it, hated the idea it had given her. She didn’t want to tell Negan. If she told him, if she put it out there, there’d be no pretending this dark part of her didn’t exist. No denying it ever again. She feared what it might unleash within her again.

“Tell me,” he said again, his voice a little softer, purring a little. She felt herself flush at the sound of it.

“Make him hold it,” she said finally. “The bat. Lu- Lucille.  Make him hold it for you the next time you visit him. For as long as you can, make him carry it around for you.”

Negan sat up straight in surprise. “That,” he said, pausing as a wicked grin crept across his face. “That is sexy. as. hell! Somehow, I knew you had that in you. Man!  have never been more turned on than I am right now.” Again she felt that flutter in her stomach, and waited for his next move.  But it never came. He’d simply poured them both a drink, laughing to himself as he did. She drained her glass quickly, and walked as fast as she could to her room when he’d dismissed her, where she took her pills and laid shaking in her bed until she was dragged into a dreamless oblivion.

She made her way down to the kitchens for some coffee and breakfast, noting the lack of guard at the wives’ dorm door. That was a first in the 4 days she’d been here.

As she made her way down, she noticed… well, she noticed that she didn’t notice anyone. It was eerily empty in the halls for this late in the morning. When she reached the ground level, she exited the building and found - where there would typically be no less than 20 saviors hanging around - there were only two guys standing guard. She walked around the building to the area where they all parked their bikes and trucks – empty. Except for one box truck and a few pickups that were now being loaded with what seemed to be the remaining Saviors.

She noticed Simon talking with one guy and heading for a truck.

“Simon!” She called after him. He stopped and turned, waiting for her to catch up to him. She and Simon had only had a few short interactions since she got to the Sanctuary, but she’d developed a small sense of safety with him. She liked him, or thought she could if she spent any time with him. “Where are you headed?” She asked as she approached him.

“We are going to see a guy that’s supposed to be dead.” He answered, chuckling a little.

Greg… Hilltop. She remembered the deal Rick had made – the event that marked the start of this whole mess. 

“Is everybody else already there?” She asked him, gesturing to the empty – well, everything.

He chuckled again. “Nah, Negan took a big crew to visit your old pals a little earlier. I imagine they’ll be gone most of the day.”

Her heart sank. She knew Negan wouldn’t ignore her advice, but she didn’t know he’d implement it this fast.

She watched as the last of Simon’s crew loaded up and he turned to go, too. “Can I come with you?”

Simon stopped again and turned to look at her. He sighed as he said “I would love to take you along; I think you’d be valuable. But Negan hasn’t okayed you to be on a crew yet.” And with that, he finished his trek to his truck and got in. He gave her a sympathetic look and a nod as they drove past her and out the gate.

When the last truck was out of sight, she turned on her heels and sprinted back to the building.

----

This was her chance. With the place all but empty – at least of Saviors – she could get Daryl out. They’d still have to be careful not to be seen by any of the workers or people who lived here, but that shouldn’t be hard.

She knew where they were keeping him – she’d followed Dwight at as careful of a distance as she could manage after seeing Daryl in the hallway yesterday. She’d watched him put him in a dark room, lock the door, and start playing some godawful song that sounded like it was from a 70s sitcom on a boombox outside his door.

She almost slammed into a wall turning the corner into his hall. And there it was – his door. His door was open. Wait. Open? She rushed into it and immediately deflated. In the light from the hall, she could make out a puddle of vomit in a corner. It was completely empty otherwise. Of course Negan had taken Daryl with them. What better way to remind Rick that Negan could hurt his people than by bringing the one he now owned? She thought for a moment, before quickly making her way to a room she had barely registered as an office when she ran past. She grabbed a pen and found a small piece of paper. She scribbled out a note to him. She needed him to know she was still with him, still working on a plan.

Stay strong. I’m coming for you soon. -Sunshine

She folded it as small as she could and pulled the door behind her in the cell just shy of closing. She followed the small stream of light from under the door and placed the note on the edge of it. No one else would notice it, she hoped.

She took one last look around his cell. Fury rose in her as she pictured him sleeping on the cold concrete for the last 3 nights. Her shoulders sagged and she felt suddenly exhausted as she made her way back to her room. How long could she go on like this? How long could she hold onto hope that she really would get Daryl and herself out of here? Back in her room, she crawled into bed and stared at the wall until she let herself slip into a restless sleep.

----

She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but when she opened her eyes again it was dark outside. She blinked away the blur of a long nap, and almost shouted when she heard a throat clear in the dark.

“You’re awake.” Negan. In her room? Her pulse quickened. He was back, which meant Daryl was back… had someone found her note after all? Was he here to punish her? She slowly moved into a sitting position with her back against the headboard, and looked to where he sat in the armchair in the corner of her room.  She furrowed her brow in a question.

“I wanted to tell you something,” he said in answer, “but I found you asleep. Sherry said you’d been asleep since 2pm. I was worried you might be sick.” She saw what looked like genuine concern in his eyes. He was worried about her? He waited for her to respond.

“I’m fine.” She croaked out, with a dry mouth.

“Good!” He exclaimed suddenly and stood to walk to her bedside. He sat down beside her, grinning that wicked Negan grin. “I have good news for you! I went to see your old friends today, and I have to say, it went so. much. better. than I had hoped. And that is all thanks to you!” He patted her leg on the last word, a little high on her thigh, and a jolt shot through her from the touch.

“I just did what you asked,” she answered humbly.

“Oh, you did more than that,” he chuckled, “and like I told you, I am a generous husband. You start with Simon’s crew bright and early tomorrow morning!”

She was still processing the information; stuck on a question she was too afraid to ask. He must have read it on her face.

“Well, I had hoped for a little more gratitude…” he said pointedly.

He sighed. “What is it? I thought you’d be happy to get what you wanted.”

“No, I am. Really. I just…” she looked into his eyes, let him see her concern. “You saw…everyone? How was Maggie doing? She was the sick one the night everything happened.”

He went still, his face serious. He shook his head slightly, “she didn’t make it.”

She tried to hold back the tears stinging her eyes, but there were too many. She turned her head away from Negan to wipe them.

He watched her, and when she finally turned back to him, she was surprised to see sympathy on his face.

“I liked Maggie,” she explained, closing her eyes to stop more tears. “She accepted me faster than the others, quickly became my friend. We got close.” She didn’t tell him about the baby – that secret wasn’t hers to tell. Especially not with him.

She felt the bed shift, and suddenly Negan was scooting beside her, wedging himself between her and the headboard. He wrapped his arms around her, and she found herself resting her head on his chest, unable to stop her crying now. She hated that he felt… good, with his arms around her, comforting her. Even though she’d slept most of the day, she felt exhausted with the weight of grief. He held her while she cried, rubbing her shoulder with his hand. She cried for Maggie and Maggie’s baby. She cried for Glenn and Abraham – she had not let herself feel that until now. She cried for Daryl and the unimaginable things he was experiencing. She cried in fear that she might not be able to pull this off after-all, that she might have taken on more than she could handle. And she cried for herself, for the change she could feel blooming in her. It scared her - what she might become. So she kept crying, and Negan kept holding her, until she fell asleep against his chest.

She awoke again a few hours later to feel him standing from her bed and making his way to the door.

“Thank you, Negan,” she said softly as she settled into her pillow. Whether she was thanking him for letting her join a crew, for telling her about Maggie, or for offering her comfort in her grief, she wasn’t sure. Maybe a little of each. “I really am grateful.”

“You can show me tomorrow how much,” he answered from the door, and she could hear that wicked grin in it. It didn’t register that she grinned, too.

The End Will Justify It All

a/n - Season 7 of TWD, Negan is just... he's so bad but so good. I have a small series in mind to follow this one, but it's a loosely formed plan…more like the whisper of a plan. Trying out third person POV for a y/n story. It might be a stinker. Feedback is welcome!

warnings - gore and death, a little innuendo, some language, Season 7 spoilers

Relationship is Daryl x female reader, y/n

“Wait!” she shouted, as she lunged herself forward and fell at Negan’s feet, halting him in his steps. “Please… take me with you.” She could feel the atmosphere change. Shock tensing the air. She could feel her friends’ confusion behind her. She could barely register any of it, though, the way her mind was racing.

The plan was barely formed, a shadow searching for shape in the back of her mind, but she pushed it away. She would have to work that out later. There was only one objective right now - stay with Daryl. It was now or never, as Negan left them with instructions for the first offering in a week. She’d barely managed to stop him before he walked to his vehicle.

“He’s mine now.” Negan’s claim on Daryl was ringing in her ears, fueling her. Her Daryl, not his. She would not let this maniac have him. Would not let him cut Daryl up. She would not lose him, not without giving her last breath fighting for him. For all of them.

Everything that had happened was on a constant slideshow loop, flashing through her mind, in sharp, horrible detail. The thump of the first blow of the barbed wire wrapped bat and Abraham’s ginger hair turning a morbid shade of red. Glenn’s eye, then his guttural promise to Maggie. Rick’s strong defiance exuding from him as he swore to Negan he would kill him. His posture now, bent and broken, no trace of that promise left in him. Daryl being dragged off and thrown in that van like a captured animal.

Her knees were stiff and aching. They had been pushed into the gravel for the last several hours, supporting her full bodyweight on the sharp rocks. As the images played again in her head, and the weight of Negan’s words sank deeper into her, she couldn’t think of an alternative – or not one she could live with, anyway. She pushed through the pain, willing her body to move, and sat back on her heels to look up at Negan with pleading eyes.

“What is this?” Negan chuckled as he peered down at her, his bloody bat hanging near her ear, filling her nose with a nauseating metallic tang.  “Have you been here the whole time? Has she been here the whole time?” He directed the second ask to his men. He got amused smiles and shrugs in return.

He looked back to her, eyes beaming with something she couldn’t quite name, but recognized its malicious nature. “Why exactly would you want to leave your band of merry men and come with me?” He asked, as he swept that damn bat in the direction of the half circle of her people.

“I – I can’t go back with them,” she stuttered out, bracing herself as she prepared her explanation. It was going hurt. He raised his brows in question at her words. “I didn’t see it before but now I see how weak Rick is. I thought he was someone who could protect his people, but… after this,” she gestured to the two messes on the ground where her friends' heads should be.

“I can’t follow him back.” She let her mind picture every man that had ever let her down before, every person who had been too weak to protect her, or to even try.  Her father in the old world. Her fiancé as the chaos descended. The “friends” she’d made in the months following, before she’d found Rick’s group. All their memories making her stomach turn and filling her eyes with rage and disgust.

“Anyone who can bring him to his knees like this, break him like he is broken now… and inspire this kind of loyalty…” she tilted her head in the direction of the large group of Saviors around them, “that is a person I can follow.”  Awe, and a bit of intrigue, was the look she forced on her face as she met his stare again, trying to shut out the knowledge that the people she loved had heard every brutal word.

Negan’s eyes raked her from head to toe, taking in every inch of her with an animalistic gleam. She was wearing what she referred to as her tactical leggings, a skin-tight pair of pants with enough pockets to carry any knives she’d need outside the walls (and space for condoms if she was with Daryl), a belt that made the pants perfect for tucking in handguns, and they were thick enough to keep her warm in the early fall weather. She couldn’t deny her favorite feature was that they made her ass look fantastic.  “Ya can’t wear them pants,” Daryl had once told her while they were preparing for a run together, “when ya wear ‘em the only place I can look is at your ass. ‘at’ll get me killed.” She wore them anyway. He never complained. She’d put them on when she left this morning with Michonne, Glenn, and Rosita to track Daryl, hoping they’d be an asset in persuading him to give up the hunt for Dwight. The fitted long sleeve shirt she wore - made of a sweat-licking material for athletes in the old world - clung to her form in a way that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Her curves had filled out a bit in the last month, now that she was eating three square meals a day, softening the harsh angles that months of traveling and near starvation on the road had given her. She wasn’t a vain person, but as Negan worked her over with his eyes, she knew he’d like what he saw.

“I’m willing to… pay for my admittance,” she said with enough emphasis on the word pay to convey her meaning, but she threw a suggestive glance at his belt as she bit her bottom lip to make her offer clear. She fought back the bile creeping up her throat as her brain worked out what this implication might bring later. She knew it wouldn’t matter, that she would do anything to keep Daryl alive. This world needed him. Their family needed him, especially with what was lost today. It would be a small sacrifice in comparison, and one she wouldn’t think twice about if that’s what it came to.

Negan searched her face as he contemplated. “You hear that, Rick?” he asked, throwing a cocky smirk at the exhausted man in the gravel, “This – what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Y/n”

“Y/n wants to know what a strong leader looks like. I think I’m gonna show her.”

A couple of Saviors took her by the arms and half walked, half dragged her to the double doors of the van that now caged the man she loved.

“Now you can’t leave ‘em all without saying goodbye, can you, sweetheart?” Negan heckled from behind her. She half-turned to look back, sweeping across the faces of the group before reaching Rick’s. Fury. That’s what she read on each of them. Fury, hatred, rage, a twinge of heartbreak as she met Carl’s glower. She found Rick’s eyes, and had to stifle her surprise. In them she did not see so much as a hint of the anger she expected. Instead, in his bright blue gaze, she saw understanding. He nodded at her, and she gave the most subtle dip of her chin in return. Then she narrowed her eyes, and turned, climbing into the van without another word.  

¨ ¨

The Saviors had been gone for maybe three minutes, but it felt like thirty. Everyone sat in silence, still on their knees on the hard ground, processing the horrendous events of the night. Sasha broke the silence. “What the fuck?” she breathed out. “Y/n?” 

Rick turned to look at her. “It’s okay.”

“What do you mean, it’s okay?” Michonne asked, indignant.

"She's with us," he replied calmly. "She's gonna bring Daryl back."

Hi! I’m looking for people that would like to RP on Discord, It's just a lot easier for me. I sometimes have to take a break because of Chronic Pain so don’t worry if I’m not there for a day or two, I usually will tell you if something’s coming up or if I’m not going to be on after a day or two.

I’ve been watching TWD recently and some characters have stolen my heart and I’ve made OCs for them but I’ve really been wanting to do something with Carl, I just have a lot of ideas for him but if you’re not comfortable with OCs I also ship a canon character with him. I’m also up to double and as I said before I also do CC x CC and if you want to know more about the OCs I can send it to you in DMs but I’m also working on making bios for all of them so please be patient with me.

✄My OCs

➻Carl Grimes x Ethan Reagan

➻Enid x Irene Reagan

➻Ezekiel x Amari Mambwe

➻Ezekiel x Isaac Reagan

➻Ezekiel x Dal Yoo

➻Glenn Rhee x Isaac Reagan

➻Glenn Rhee x Amari Mambwe

➻Gabriel Stokes x Isaac Reagan

➻Gabriel Stokes x Amari Mambwe

➻Michonne Hawthorne x Akiva Ito

➻Paul "Jesus" Rovia x Isaac Reagan

➻Paul "Jesus" Rovia x Dal Yoo

➻Rosita Espinosa x Dahlia Amana

Who I’d rather be is the 💞, If it doesn’t have 💞 that means I’m fine with either.

These are all of the ships I can rp if you don’t want to rp one of the OC ships/doubling.

✄Het

➻Carol Pelletier x Ezekiel

➻Michonne Hawthorne💞 x Rick Grimes

➻Maggie Rhee x Glenn Rhee

✄Slash

➻Aaron x Eric Raleigh

➻Carl Grimes x Ron Anderson

➻Caesar Ramón Martínez x Daryl Dixon💞

➻Daryl Dixon x Paul "Jesus" Rovia

➻Daryl Dixon x Glenn Rhee

➻Daryl Dixon💞 x Rick Grimes

➻Ezekiel x Jerry

➻Paul "Jesus" Rovia x Aaron

✄Femslash

➻Beth Greene x Tara Chambler

➻Cyndie x Tara Chambler

➻Denise Cloyd x Tara Chambler💞

➻Michonne Hawthorne💞 x Andrea Harrison

➻Sasha Williams x Beth Greene

➻Tara Chambler x Rosita Espinosa💞

✄Poly

➻Daryl Dixon x Aaron x Paul "Jesus" Rovia

➻Daryl Dixon x Rick Grimes x Paul "Jesus" Rovia

➻Ezekiel x Carol Pelletier x Jerry

┊Alternate Universe & Important Headcanons

༻Modern AU

༻High School AU

༻College AU

can you guys guess what day it is?

yup, it's my birthday!! 🤩

p.s. thanks to my mom for giving birth to me bc glenn wouldn't have his #1 babe here 🤭 /j (or am i?)

Y/N: I’m so happy I could kiss you

Daryl: *nervous laughter* Ummmm... neat

[later]

Daryl, lying face down on the bed: I can’t believe I said “neat,” Rick, “Neat.” Nobody says neat anymore! It’s not neat to say neat. I hate myself.

Rick: Hey, don’t beat yourself up. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what happened when Michonne kissed me?

Daryl: Didn’t you thank her?

Rick, staring blankly into the distance: I thanked her

Rick Grimes x F!Reader x Daryl Dixon Smut: And There was only One Bed

Warnings/Mentions: Smut, unprotected sex, jealous Rick, awkward inexperienced Daryl, dry humping, spooning sex, oral, handjobs (Daryl receiving), staying quiet/fear of being caught, Daryl pretending to be asleep

Summary: Rick, Daryl, and reader get caught out on a storm and take shelter in a small cabin. They're stuck there for the night, and you'll never guess what happens next. THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED

Notes: God this is so hot I don't care that the morals are questionable!!!! I need it more than anything I've ever needed before thank you for requesting anon

Being squished between a snoring Daryl and Rick's hard-on was not how you imagined your night going when you set out that morning.

It was supposed to be a cut and dry intel run. Scope out the new group nearby, learn a few things, maybe grab some supplies on your way back, but no, it's never that easy.

First off, you couldn't find the group. Aaron claimed they were composed of maybe forty people living in the nearby school, but the place was quiet when you'd checked it out.

Then, Rick's truck broke down. Dead battery. Daryl set out looking for one with enough juice to get you home when the first signs of a storm rolled in. Angry dark clouds and cold fat raindrops.

The only place nearby in walking distance was down a long gravel road. It was the smallest, but also the cutest, cabin you'd ever laid eyes on. It only had three rooms, one bedroom with a bathroom, and a large open living area that held a tiny kitchen and a couch with a fireplace.

“Get those windows boarded up.”

Rick was quick to spew out commands after the three of you busted through the front door, all wet and shivering. The wind was so strong it slammed the door closed behind you, blowing the curtains and causing stray paper to fly off their tables.

“Can't!” Daryl shouted. He stood behind you shielding his face from the rain shooting through the broken windows.

That's how you ended up in the bedroom. You sat shivering on the foot of the bed as Rick went through the dresser, looking for clothes to replace the soaking fabric you all wore.

Daryl slid the bedroom vanity in front of the door. He even went as far as to set the armchair on top of it.

“Can we just wait it out?” Your teeth clattered together as Rick tossed you a towel from the closet. You ruffled it in your hair and watched Daryl.

He was standing in front of the only window in the room, his arms crossed and his thumbnail between his teeth.

“Yeah, should ease up soon.” Rick sat on the bed opposite from you, drying his arms and hair with his own towel.

“Naw.” Daryl muttered. He finally turned away from the window and began drying himself. “Gonna be a few hours, at least.”

You furrowed your brows, looking down in your lap. This was quite the predicament. Stuck in a bedroom with two men, one you barely knew and were pretty sure hated you.

The other… Well, you weren't sure what Rick was to you.

Daryl wasn't right, but he wasn't wrong either. The storm did continue for a few hours, but it also didn't show any signs of stopping.

You glanced down at your watch and felt your heart drop. It was seven pm, and the sun would be setting very soon. Not that you could see much outside anyways, the clouds were thick and covered a majority of the sky.

Your voice broke the long streak of silence.

“Are we gonna have to stay here tonight?”

Rick and Daryl had known the answer to that question two hours prior. Neither of them wanted to be the ones to say it, but their lack of direct answers filled you in enough. Rick looked down at his revolver and Daryl continued staring out the window.

“Fuck.” You groaned, sitting back down on the bed. “I promised Maggie we'd watch season two of True Blood tonight.”

“That dog fucker show?” Daryl muttered around his cigarette. He was leaning against the wall next to the window, legs crossed at the ankles, cleaning under his nails with the blade of his knife.

“No Daryl, there's no dog fucking.” You sighed and he just mumbled in response, not looking up from his fingers.

Rick had made himself busy trying to prepare the room for the night.

He'd found a few hurricane lanterns and set two up on the bedside tables, and began anxiously ‘cleaning’. The room only had the bed, dresser, and bedside tables, so there wasn't much he could do besides look in the same drawers over and over.

At some point he went into the small bathroom and shut the door. He stayed there for a couple minutes, doing god knows what.

There were a few clothing items left by the previous owners. Daryl and Rick got some raggedy sweatpants, shirts full of holes that were a little too small for them. You were stuck with a massive piss yellow sweater and the ugliest pair of basketball shorts.

Anything was better than your soaking rags.

The storm had eased up a bit, but that didn't do much in terms of easing your boredom. The sun had long since set, your watch read ten-thirty, and neither man was very talkative.

“I'll take first watch.” Daryl was the first to speak in a while.

“No. I'll do it.” Rick protested. He'd been cleaning his revolver for the last thirty minutes. “I can't sleep anyway.”

“Yeah, well. Neither can I.”

You'd found a box of random items under the bed and had been looking through them while they bickered. A dead Gameboy, random PlayStation controllers, a few comic books, pieces to Monopoly, and an array of broken crayons. There was a pen and a notepad though, so you started drawing a caricature of Daryl.

Angry eyebrows, a cigarette that was half his height in his frowning mouth, and a speech bubble filled with hash tags for explicatives.

“Hey.” You nudged Rick's knee with your elbow. He sat on the bed above where you were, cross-legged on the floor next to your box of bullshit.

He looked down at the paper you showed him, and for the first time that day you saw his lips twitching up into a smirk. His eyes trailed over the paper and he grabbed it from you, bringing it up closer to his face.

“Is that Daryl?” He questioned, and you nodded, a grin splitting across your face.

“That's good.” Rick nodded, shrugging his mouth. “You got a real talent. Looks just like him.”

Daryl was too bored to hide his interest, so he stood from his spot under the bedroom window and walked over to you. He grabbed the notepad from Rick, and you could see his eyes narrowing as he tried to make out your scribbles in the dim lighting.

“Yeah?” Daryl looked up when he heard the two of you stifling giggles and laughter. “Think that's funny? Gimme that.” He snatched the pen from your hands and flipped the page, sitting down on the dresser and scribbling furiously.

The pad was tossed in your lap a minute later. Your eyes widened on the drawing.

It was obviously you. You had on the same sweater, but it went down to your feet instead of your knees, and you were standing beside a cat. The only problem was, the cat was three times taller than you, and you had the ugliest expression on your face. Your mouth hung open and you were nagging the cat about scratching up the furniture. It was based on a scenario that had happened the day before, with your cat back home, Daisy, who you had caught shredding the living room couch.

“Dude, what am I? Two inches tall?” You laughed, handing the paper to Rick. He covered his mouth to hide the smile, but you saw it through his fingers and stood to give him a shove.

“Right, sorry. Drew ya too big. Hold on.” Daryl came over and drew a new stick figure of you so small that it was the size of a real ant.

“Ooookay, fuck you.”

Daryl dogged the small notepad you'd tossed at his face, and started laughing. Actually laughing. Your smile grew softer as he and Rick began to joke. It had been a while since you'd seen either of them behave in such a lighthearted manner. It made the bare bedroom seem not so cold.

Eventually the curtains were drawn and the lanterns dimmed considerably. You'd claimed the only spot on the bed that wasn't lumpy or sunken, which just so happened to be the middle.

No other reason, promise.

For the sake of his joints, Daryl had given up trying to sit on the hard floor and joined you on the bed, claiming the side closest to the window. He'd made sure to put distance between you, so much so that he was nearly hanging off the edge.

Rick had a little more resolve than the other man and stood by the window for a bit, occasionally peeking out the heavy curtains to see the same amount of darkness as before.

“Thank god you showered this morning.” Rick grunted as he sat down on your left, knocking his boots together before he brought his legs up on the bed.

“Me?” You blurted immediately, already feeling the tiniest but of anxiety, Rick never teased you like that. He saved that for the men.

He gave a toothy grin and shook his head. “No. Him.” He pointed over your body to Daryl, who was smoking his third cigarette of the night. “Carol made him take his monthly shower after he came home covered in coyote blood.”

You giggled, glancing over at Daryl.

“Yeah. Laugh it up.” Daryl took a deep drag.

You kicked off your shoes and sat upright, taking off those god awful shorts while the two men continued to playfully insult each other.

Rick caught himself going quiet when he saw you pulling the shorts down your thighs, his mouth drying at the sight. Daryl quickly shot him a look, dragging his attention away from your now bare legs and back onto him.

You didn't notice a thing, but you wished you had. Maybe you'd have started grinding against him earlier that night.

You were the first to fall asleep, to no one's surprise. There were little things that you loved more in life than sleeping.

Curled up underneath the sheets that you'd checked twenty times for bugs, sleep came quick and easy for you.

The sweater you were wearing had become incredibly uncomfortable so you swapped it for Rick's hole ridden T-shirt, leaving him shirtless. The image of his bare chest and the muscles in his back almost gave you enough adrenaline to stay up the entire night, but Daryl's soft breathing and Rick's body heat beside you tugged you unconscious.

Rick was next to give in, he'd kicked his boots off and climbed under the sheets with you, not before sliding a pillow between your bodies, more for your consideration than his modesty. He didn't give a shit, but he was worried you might.

Daryl was last, and by complete accident. He'd meant to take the first watch but the sounds of rain on the roof, gentle thunder outside, and your soft breathing beside him had him out like a light.

Two hours went by before something woke Rick up. The feeling of pressure against his crotch.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times in a struggle to see, but the room was too dark to immediately recognize his surroundings.

Once he remembered where he was he relaxed. He closed his eyes again and almost fell back to sleep when he felt it.

A gentle nudge of something soft and plush against him, something that made him well aware of the situation in his sweatpants. He was painfully erect.

His eyes opened again, but the room was no easier to see in. He could still hear the sounds of quiet rain and wind, and the new sound of Daryl's soft snoring.

Then you whimpered.

It was quiet, barely audible, and whiny. You were squirming in your sleep, the pillow between the two of you now between your knees, separating them to prevent the annoying feeling of bone on bone.

Your ass moved back against him again. He pulled his hips back, his dick immediately complaining about the loss of contact with a slight twitch. He clenched his teeth together and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall back asleep.

Think about cold showers. You're taking a cold shower, he thought, taking deep breaths. Cold cold shower. She's in a cold shower--- raw potatoes, grub worms, rotten walker flesh, her flesh, her ass is only a few inches away, snug in those cute boyshort underwear-

Daryl let out a sudden louder snort, startling Rick out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped open, only closing once he heard the earlier gentle snores return.

Your movements stilled and he was able to sleep once again, not without an iron will mindset.

You weren't sure how long you'd been sleeping when you woke up. You checked your watch, seeing the green glowing hands pointed at the twelve and nine.

It was only twelve forty-five.

You sighed.

The room had grown colder as the night went on, cold air seeping through the thin cracks in the walls and floorboards.

As a result of said colder temperature, Daryl had moved closer to you, be that in his sleep or on purpose, you didn't know. All you knew was he was there on your right side, his bicep warm and pressed against your upper chest.

Rick had also moved closer. So close, in fact, that his hand was on your waist, resting there like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Your heart sped up when you realized this, and when he pulled you closer in his sleep you almost gasped.

He was hard.

Like, really hard.

You could feel it behind his sweatpants pressed right into your ass. His breathing was slow and deep, letting you know that he was definitely asleep, not that the knowledge did much to stop the arousal filling your chest.

You couldn't stop the whimper that sounded deep in your throat. Daryl's snoring covered it, or you thought it did. Rick stirred behind you and you heard the sound of him sniffing sleepily.

He had to be awake, you were sure of it. His breathing had become quiet, much different than the sounds of someone who was deep in sleep. He made no move to pull his hand away from your hip, confusing you even further.

Maybe he wasn't awake.

A lightbulb went off. You wiggled your hips, very slightly, only a few millimeters side to side. It was enough to gain a reaction from him, which let you know that he was definitely awake.

Rick's grip tightened on your hip.

Then he pushed into you.

There was nothing you could've done to prepare yourself for that kind of response. You sucked in a breath and felt your pussy throb. It was such a faint and quick movement, but you could vividly feel the shape of his dick pressing against your ass.

You heard movement behind you, the sound of his stubble scraping across his pillow as he moved his lips to your ear, speaking barely above a whisper.

“Stay still.”

Your eyes flicked to Daryls face.

You could barely see the outline of his head illuminated in moonlight thanks to the parting clouds. His nose pointed up at the ceiling, his lips parted as he breathed.

A wave of heat traveled through your body, starting in your chest and shooting down to your core. You felt that flipping sensation in your lower stomach and you whimpered again, rubbing your thighs together.

Rick inhaled deeply through his nose at the action. His hand shifted upwards, moving over your hip and splaying over the curve of your waist. He could feel you pressed against him, even if you weren't moving, and it made him groan faintly.

The sound of him groaning sent another spark through your core. You couldn't help it, you arched your back just enough to feel friction. You were too weak willed.

“Sweetheart.” He breathed, his forehead resting against the back of your hair to try and steady himself. “You gotta stop, please.”

He hated how desperate and wrecked the whispered words came from his lips. Hated how his dick was aching in his boxer briefs.

Hated how he was just as weak willed as you, his hips moving forward in a way that betrayed his words and stomped them in the mud.

You couldn't understand why you were so unbearably aroused. You weren't a teenager going through puberty. You've had partners.

Sure, you had a little admiration-fueled crush on the two men, but the way your body was behaving was animalistic. Your heart felt like it was going to burst through your chest and your pussy was soaked.

If only you had your vibrator that was back in Alexandria, you'd orgasm in five seconds, you knew that for a fucking fact.

Daryl muttered a nonsensical sentence in his sleep, his head lolling over in the direction of the window. His right arm rose to lay over his chest, and his left leg spread out in your direction.

His knee bumped against the top of your thighs, almost slipping between them.

You could've screamed.

You tried to stay still, really, you did. But the feeling of Rick pushing against you again, Daryl's knee nudging between your thighs, it was impossible. You moved your hips, intending on just pushing back against Rick but your action also succeeded in grinding down right on Daryl's knee.

Rick could feel resistance in your movement but his mind couldn't focus on anything but the feel of your plush ass pressing against his dick.

His blood ran cold at the sound of Daryl mumbling in his sleep again. He held his breath, waiting with baited breath to see if he'd stir awake.

Relief flooded his body after a moment of silence, and he pressed his face back into your hair. There was still a faint smell of shampoo or conditioner despite the earlier rain. The feminine smell made his dick twitch and he flexed his jaw.

You were caught between excitement and horror. Daryl's knee was wedged right between your thighs, and occasionally it would jerk up against you. Each time it would make you fight away a gasp, and make your clit throb.

Daryl was definitely asleep, right? If he woke up he'd roll over on his side, right? There was no way he was awake, pushing his knee right up against your pussy, right?

You reached down to grab Rick's hand, which was still resting against your waist, gripping onto his fingers for support. His fingers curled around your own and sent butterflies in your stomach at the feeling of comfort.

He hated himself for all of it, but in the moment, he felt like he didn't care. His hips rocked against yours, once, twice, the need to get relief clouding all judgment he was capable of having.

You couldn't help yourself either. Your eyes fluttered shut and you rolled your hips, soft and slow, against Rick's bulge and Daryl's knee. You'd tried several times to push it away, wiggle back further into Rick, but it was like there was a goddamn super magnet attached to your clit and his knee cap.

You bit down hard against your lip, trying to keep your voice from escaping. Everything felt so good, Rick dry humping his heart out, your clit buzzing, it all felt so overwhelmingly amazing that you hadn't even noticed Daryl's snoring was no longer present.

In the end, it wasn't enough, Rick was being too cautious. You needed more, just a little bit. You pushed back hard against him and heard his breath hitch in his throat. His hand gripped yours so tight it almost hurt, and he leaned into your ear.

“Movin’ too much. Stop.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. You shook your head, your lip trembling between your teeth.

“Can't.” You breathed. You physically couldn't stop, you knew that and Rick knew that. You were both so close to relief, you'd already gotten this far, there was no point in stopping now. No going back.

Rick swallowed hard as he felt his resolve break at the way you and your body pleaded. It was all he needed. His hips moved a bit faster, a bit rougher. His hand left yours and grabbed the string of his sweatpants, fingertips pinching the ends, hesitating only for a second before he pulled.

Time seemed to literally freeze when you felt him digging his cock out behind you. Your heart stopped, your breathing stopped, and so did the grinding of your pelvis. You couldn't think. It was suddenly all too very real.

You didn't expect Rick to do something like this. The dry humping, sure. He was horny and it wasn't really that big of a deal. But this? Tugging down your underwear? Spitting on his hand and stroking his dick to get it wet for you? It felt like a dream and way too terrifying at the same time.

“Sweetheart…” His hot breath against your ear snapped you back to reality. “You… you gotta be quiet, okay? Promise?”

You'd never nodded so quickly and eagerly in your life. Your heart felt like it was literally up in your throat. The tight knot in your core became more and more taut, and it trembled when you felt the hot tip of his wet dick bump between your folds.

Rick nearly came when he felt how wet you were. It was mind blowing, you were fucking soaked. The hot lube was covering your pussy and trailing down the side of your ass, reaching his hip bone.

You inhaled deeply when you felt him start to push in. You'd think with how wet you were it would be easy, but your muscles were wound tight due to the nearly paralyzing fear of possibly waking Daryl.

There was a bit of self disgust when you felt the weight of reality sinking in. The absolute pathetic degeneracy of what you were doing with Daryl right next to you.

That self disgust faded when Rick pushed into you.

Rick swallowed a groan as his cock dug up into you, your walls hot and soft and squeezing the life out of him. He could feel how nervous you were so he slipped an arm over your side, his hand reaching for your own again.

You moaned.

His hand broke from your grip and clamped over your mouth. Neither of you moved for a solid minute.

It was the longest minute in history. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you, your clit throbbing so hard you thought it was going to have its own little heart attack.

Your thighs absentmindedly squeezed against Daryl's knee, and you were sure you'd start crying.

Finally, Rick began moving. His breathing was growing heavy behind your head, his face burying back into the mess of hair in front of him.

His movements were slow at first. Tantalizingly slow. He waited until he was sure you could stay quiet before picking up the pace.

Your eyes had adjusted a fair amount in the darkness. You looked up to Daryl, finding comfort when you saw his eyes were still closed, but he'd stopped snoring long ago.

You dismissed it and grabbed onto the wrist of the hand covering your mouth, gripping tight for support.

Your right hand slipped under the sheets to rest on your thigh, but instead landed on Daryl's lower thigh. He must've been a very heavy sleeper, because he didn't react to it beyond the muscles tensing under your palm.

The sound that escaped Rick's lips had your eyes rolling back into your head. A trembling whimper. His movements grew quicker and deeper, his dick dragging your walls against him, pulling out every drop of arousal he could and thrusting it back in.

Your mind spun as all thoughts left your brain. There was nothing going on up there anymore, just dark blackness, the feeling of Rick fucking you taking over your conscious body.

His hand grabbed yours, the one on Daryl's knee, and pulled it away from you, to the right.

When your fingers brushed up against something warm and soft, you didn't question it. You didn't even question his fingers moving yours to wrap around his dick.

Your eyes shot open.

Rick's dick was still inside you. His right hand was still on your mouth, his left on the small of your back.

Daryl's eyes were open, and looking right into yours.

You went to jerk your hand away out of reflex, but his grip was tight, forcing your fingers to stay wrapped around his thick cock. Your eyes flew over him, fighting to understand what was happening, when had he woken up? Just then? Or was he awake when he pushed his knee between your thighs?

The orgasm that came out of nowhere pushed all those questions aside.

You moaned against Rick's hand as you came, no longer trying to be quiet, no longer trying to keep your hips still. Your thighs clamped down on Daryl's knee, grinding rough and quick.

Much to Rick's absolute heart-stopping horror.

He tried to muffle your moans, forcing his hand down painfully hard on your mouth, but it did little. He bared his teeth near your ear and hissed for you to stop, the sound sharp and jarring as it came through his clenched teeth, but then his eyes landed on the scene over your body.

Daryl using your hand to stroke his dick. Daryl with his other arm bent behind his head, his face tilted to the side to watch your expressions with parted lips.

It took Rick a few seconds to recover from the near heart attack. He almost lost his boner from the heart dropping adrenaline, but your wet walls spasming around him coaxed his hips forward.

Now that you didn't need to be quiet you pulled Rick's hand off your mouth and gasped down a lungful of air. Your mouth was hot and dry, and it was hard to swallow.

You couldn't take your eyes off Daryl, his eyes, the eyes that hadn't left your face since he woke up.

God, he was unbelievably sexy. The way he was so responsive to your touch led you to believe your hand might possibly be the first hand to touch his dick other than his own.

He grunted softly, his eyes finally falling shut after you gently squeezed the base of his dick. You'd be content to get him off with one hand like you had been for the past few minutes, but you couldn't resist the urge to give him his first hand job and blowjob.

“Up.” You panted. You curled your finger at Daryl, pointing up. He happily obliged and sat upright, scooting up towards the headboard until his lap was right in front of your face.

He seemed absolutely thrilled, ecstatic even. His once heavy eyes were now wide open, watching every move you made as you shifted your upper half so your mouth could reach his dick.

Rick was still thrusting with hesitation when you moved. He watched you lick broad stripes on the underside of Daryl's dick, and he couldn't help but glance at his face to see his reaction.

Mouth hanging open, eyes clenched tightly shut, his expression almost looked pained. His hands had found their way to your hair, gripping two handfuls as he began trying to move your head for you.

You slapped his hands away and grabbed his wrists, an action that had his eyes opening and looking down at you.

“Don't.” Your hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of his tip. He pinched both his lips shut between his teeth, nodding quickly, a shaky closed-lip moan rattling in his throat.

Rick finally got ahold of himself and grabbed your hips to turn your lower half on your stomach. He kept his dick inside you as he slid on top of you, his knees spreading to rest on either side of your thighs.

You were taking Daryl's head past your lips when Rick suddenly fucked you like he'd been wanting to the entire time. Both his hands rested on the small of your back, pushing your hips down into the mattress with all his weight to keep them firmly in place.

You gasped around Daryl at the feeling of Rick pounding into you from above. It was a comically drastic change from only five minutes before when he thought Daryl was asleep.

Daryl's wrists flexed in your hands where you had them pressed against his lower stomach. You knew he was only keeping them there in your grasp because he allowed it, and not because you were somehow strong enough to keep even a single wrist of his in your fist, let alone two.

It took a lot of effort on Rick's part to actually finish. Having Daryl in the room when you fucked was one thing, but having him making all that noise just from your mouth was another.

He was honestly more surprised that Daryl actually enjoyed sex acts than the fact he was engaging in them with him in the room. With no one other than you, a girl he almost never saw him interact with.

Rick had assumed Daryl simply wasn't interested. Incorrectly assumed.

Either way, having Daryl only a few feet away from him while he had his dick inside you was something he wasn't sure he enjoyed. But the way you clenched around him every time he pulled back was enough to make him forget about it.

Daryl was struggling to keep himself together. He had no point of reference, but he thought you were incredibly talented at giving head. You were giving it your all, sucking and licking like your life depended on it. It was impressive how well you were managing to concentrate on blowing him with Rick making such a mess of your pussy.

You couldn't be happier. You knew there were so many women back in Alexandria that would kill to be in your position, lying in front of the Daryl Dixon, lying under the Rick Grimes, both of their dicks inside you.

“Wa-wait.” Daryl suddenly sputtered and ripped his wrists from your hands to cup the sides of your face, giving a few gentle slaps with the tips of his fingers.

You looked up, not taking your mouth off of him. His expression made your pussy clench around Rick and he groaned behind you, the sound raw and deep. He shifted his hips and ground down against you, quick and rough, his tip jabbing deep inside you.

The ragged moan you let out reverberated through Daryl, and the hand you had around his base gave a trembling squeeze.

“M’boutta, Jesus! Hey, oh, godfuckindamnit-” Daryl's jaw dropped and his eyes rolled back, his head tipping backwards as he made that same pained expression and came down your throat.

Your hips were roughly jerked up from the bed, shoving you back on Rick's dick, and then his hands slipped under your armpits to pull up your top half.

It was hard to stay upright, but thankfully Rick was generous enough to provide you the luxury of his hands tight against your tits, keeping your back flush against his chest.

Oh, it was a goddamn shame Daryl had just come. The sight in front of him was something he knew millions would pay- no, kill- to see. You looked breathtaking. Rick had taken your shirt off some time ago, leaving you completely bare as you kneeled in front of Daryl.

He forgot to breathe as he watched your face, slack in pleasure. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and on him, something that made his softening cock twitch. All that struggling just to look at someone like him? The hell did he deserve to have someone like you looking at him like that?

Rick deserved praise for the way he supported your weight with just his hands, keeping your entire upper half pressed against his chest while he fucked you in desperate effort to finally get off. His dick felt raw from how long he'd been at it, his balls throbbing from the delayed orgasm, it was a wonder he was able to keep himself upright, let alone you.

“Daryl.” The way you whimpered his name made his cock jump back to life, and he pushed himself up on his elbows to look up at you, eager to obey whatever it was you were about to ask.

“Yeah?” He rasped as he stared up at you.

You'd placed your hands over Rick's and moved his fingers over your nipples, which he was pinching and rolling, something he understood without you even needing to ask.

“Touch me, please.”

You didn't need to ask twice. Daryl inched down the bed and kept himself propped up on one elbow, his other arm sliding over his chest to reach your clit.

Rick decided at that moment he definitely didn't like threesomes. Feeling you twist and hearing you moan due to Daryl's thumb rubbing against you made his chest and face hot, a childish reaction considering you and Rick were not a thing, and certainly not an exclusive thing.

He just wasn't good at sharing.

The silly jealousy led to him putting his all into pleasing you. His thrusts became slower but deeper, more forceful, knocking out a gravely groan from your throat with each one. His hands left your breasts to tangle in your hair, pulling it up into a makeshift ponytail with his fist being the hair tie.

Your skin buzzed when he pressed his face into your neck to plant sloppy kisses. He bit down and you whined, arching your back against him and tilting your head to the side to provide him better access.

Unlike Rick, Daryl didn't have a care in the world. His mind was completely blank as he stared up at you above him, oblivious to the way his thumb cramped from the constant circles he rubbed into you.

“C'mere.” You breathed, wrapping your fingers in Daryl's hair to urge him up and guide his mouth to your nipples.

Daryl's eagerness to please was one of the hottest things you'd ever witnessed. He took your right nipple in his mouth and went to town like his life depended on it.

He flexed his tongue, digging the firm and wet muscle around your bud, circling it the same way his thumb now circled your clit.

Your orgasm came screeching out of nowhere.

You cried out and gripped Daryl's head tighter, pulling his mouth firm against your breast as you came.

The feeling of your walls squeezing the life out of his cock finally brought about Rick's own climax.

He wrapped his fist around the hair bundled in his grasp and tugged your head to the side, baring your neck to his itching teeth, and clamped down as he gave a rough thrust.

You'd failed to notice that at some point Daryl had grown hard again, only noticing when he let out a ragged moan into your wet chest.

Your bleary eyes found him and caught sight of his hand quickly jerking himself. There was the flash of thick cum spurting out, long ropes coating the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck.” You slurred. Now that was the new hottest thing you'd ever seen.

Rick's teeth released their grip on your neck. He pulled back and let his head droop back as he caught his breath, his shoulders heaving with deep and ragged pants. He became aware of how uncomfortably sweaty he was. His chest and back felt soaked, and he dropped your hair to pull away from you.

You heard Rick plop down on the bed behind you, the springs creaking from his sudden weight dropping on it all at once. You were too busy admiring Daryl to pay attention to it.

There was a lazy smile on your face, your eyes half lidded and glued to his face. Even though the room was dark you were sure you could see how red his cheeks were. His lips were glossy and parted as he took in deep breaths, still wet from drooling all over your tits.

He could barely keep his eyes open, and with the way you had one hand cupping his face, the other brushing back his sweaty hair, he wasn't sure he wanted to. The sweet way you were looking down at him was just too hard to look away from.

The next morning wasn't as awkward as one would think, even though it was obvious Rick was having some internal battle on the ethics of what he'd done the night before. He'd never been in a situation where he knew he really shouldn't be doing something like that, so his lack of restraint was new knowledge he'd have to ponder over.

Daryl couldn't give any less of a fuck, that morning he gave you the whole princess treatment. Grabbing your now dry clothes, your bag, your shoes, and bringing them to you. Offered you the last of his water and opened every door you came across for you. He didn't say much at all, much like Rick, but his mood was clearly the exact opposite.

It was so sweet it made your heart ache.

“Hey.” Rick pulled you aside after you finally got back home, shooting Daryl a look to give the two of you privacy.

“Hi.” You smiled. The stern look on his face was cute.

“What we did-”

“Don't.” You stopped him, giving the man a tired smile. “It was the sexiest thing I've ever done and I'm fine with it being a one time thing, but don't ruin it and tell me it was wrong.”

“I wasn't going to say that.” His gaze had softened, but he still looked down at you with his hands on his hips like a disappointed authority figure. “I just don't want you to think it's okay to bring up if we're all alone again.”

“I'm not stupid.” You snorted, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “Won't bring it up again.”

He sighed in frustration, trying not to roll his eyes but failing. “No, it ain't that either. Let's just- next time,” your eyes widened, “not be as spontaneous.”

You grinned. “Alright. You got it.”

Daryl was nowhere near as reserved about the experience. You could understand Rick's point of view, conservative family man, that was probably the most extreme thing he'd ever done in bed. But Daryl, oh, you'd just changed his fucking world.

“Pst.”

You stopped in front of the bathroom to see Daryl nodding you over, lighting a cigarette as he stood near the door to his room.

“Hi.” You smiled after approaching him.

“You okay?”

You beamed at the question, shifting your pile of clothes in your arms. “Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?”

He nodded as he took the first pull, turning his head to blow the smoke away from your face. “Is, uh…” He nodded his head to the front door, where Rick still stood on the porch talking to a few people. “He alright?”

“He's fine.”

“Alright. Good.” He shifted awkwardly. He cleared his throat, looking down at the cherry on his cigarette before bringing it back up to his lips. “That somethin' you wanna do again?”

You pursed your lips in an attempt to hide the ecstatic smile that threatened to embarrass you, and nodded.

He let out a breath that sounded like a laugh of relief and disbelief. There were a few seconds of silence, his eyes darting between his cigarette and your face. “With me?”

“Of course. Maybe next time just you.” You turned to head back to the bathroom but quickly turned on your heel and walked back to him. “Daryl? When did you,” you struggled to get the words out, ironic considering how bold youd been the night before, “you know, wake up?”

“Oh.” He grunted, his ears burning. “Dunno. While before.”

You felt a mix of embarrassment and relief. So he had pushed his knee between your legs on purpose. The thought had your stomach flipping and your face getting warm, so you gave a quick and polite smile before running off to the bathroom.

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