Okay so look. This is fanfic and it contains sex. Daryl sex.Posted on 2012.04.25 at 23:16
I should mention probably that it contains an OC. I'm pretty sure I ship Caryl, but not certain enough to, you know, let them get it on. I don't think there's much you need to know about this OC except that I have a story arc for her that I may or may not write. Basically she hooked up with our merry band after escaping from a Bad Situation (Gas, Grass or Ass no one rides for free! Except, you know. Dark). Nightmares are a regular thing. So is attacking people who wakes her up from said nightmares.
Oh my God, she's a Mary Sue. What have I done?
Well if it gets really Sue-ish, I don't have to show you. So there.
Here it is.
Please don't be mean.
I cannot handle it.
By sunset, they were late. She sat with Lori and Carol around the campfire and they exchanged tight-lipped smiles and tried to pretend that their insides weren’t clenched tight with fear. Tanya always slept with the screens of her tent open anyway so it wasn’t a stretch to rearrange her blankets so she could watch the driveway for headlights. Plans were, at best, guidelines in this world and they were probably just late, sweaty and cranky and hungry and tired and fine and going to turn up the road any minute.
She slept and felt guilty when the sun woke her and sick when there was still no truck in the yard.
“It’s safer not to travel at night.”
“They might have blown a tire.”
“Maybe they just got turned around.”
“Mom? Is Dad dead?”
No one ate. Tanya washed the laundry and fed the horses and went looking for the raspberry bushes Maggie swore didn’t grow far back in the woods. She tried to help Andrea keep watch as an excuse to turn the binoculars toward the road but the sun torched her already frayed nerves and she went to take a shower to keep from screaming.
At 5:30, Lori started crying and she couldn’t stop. Beth and Carol forced Carl inside, but there weren’t walls enough to keep out the sound of her sobs turning to screams. Tanya felt hollow. Daryl and Rick had been gone 36 hours. There was no reason to expect that they’d be back. She couldn’t face her own emotions so she stood near Lori, waiting as she cried herself out and then helping her clean up the mess she’d made throwing everything within reach to the ground.
“Tomorrow, we’ll make plans,” Lori said, her voice thick. “We are not letting this group fall apart.”
Tanya nodded, shrinking in front of the other woman’s strength and letting herself wonder for the first time that day how she would manage not to fall apart.
The sun set again and the fires burned low and everyone pretended to sleep. Tossing and turning in her sleep sheet, Tanya felt the reality of it wash over her. Gone. Daryl was gone. Never coming back. She bolted upright, zipping closed the flaps of her tent, and ghosted barefoot across the yard. She’d be brave tomorrow, maybe, if she could; but not tonight.
Daryl’s tent was hot and a little musty the way all tents were, but his things were neat. Shivering in her night shirt as she unzipped the windows and buried herself in his blankets, Tanya suddenly couldn’t breathe. The pain was a rock in her chest; her heart could hardly beat around it; her sobs came so hard they were soundless and the ragged breaths between them filled the tent. She dug her fingernails into her arms and rocked slowly until crying began to hurt so much it scared her. Then she lay down, clutching Daryl’s pillow to her chest and letting her mute tears soak into it.
She didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve this. After everything they’d survived. Tanya was so monumentally sorry she’d voted to spare the stranger’s life. She would kill him herself a thousand times to spare Daryl. Daryl who was so afraid to belong to the group and protected it more fiercely than anyone. Who had rarely so much as touched her shoulder, but whose gaze embraced her and supported her and made her feel like she belonged too.
It wasn’t sleep she fell into so much as a stupor. The world vanished behind the pillow in her arms and the chill in her bones. She would live here forever. The world would never be what it was so why not simply drift away? Here she could imagine that the pickup did crunch into the driveway. That five tents and one screen door all flew open at once and Lori closed them again with one stern order:
“Everybody get back to bed. They’ll tell us about it in the morning.”
Even in her imagination she wouldn’t dare imagine Daryl Dixon limping toward her tent, frowning as he saw the zippered windows, panicking when he found it was empty. Tanya couldn’t imagine that Carol appeared behind him, to hug him whether he wanted it or not and to nod in the direction of his own tent. Even in the pillow world, it was too much to hope that his pace quickened as he turned around and single-mindedly sought her.
It was too much to hope for, but his fingers unzipped the tent.
Afraid to believe in him, but too desperate not to, Tanya lifted her head. The full moon was a lantern and she could see that his face was dirty and oh so tired, but whole. And he could see the wetness on her cheeks and all the uneased fear in her eyes. They couldn’t fall on each other as Rick and Lori were doing yards away. She couldn’t ask what had kept them and how he was alive and he couldn’t tell her, not yet, not while it was still raw and the hair still tingled on the back of his neck. So he toed off his boots and set down his weapons and she watched for any glitches, for any sign that she was hallucinating.
When he crouched down on the floor, he didn’t ask permission; but she was in his bed and Tanya unfolded the blankets and scooted to give him more room than he needed. Daryl settled in and they lay absolutely still. Tanya didn’t think she’d ever been further from sleep. Her entire body tingled with not touching him. She wanted to press herself against him and hold him, holding her, until she was convinced that he was whole. She settled for passing him most of the blankets; she was too flushed to want anything but his skin on her own.
They lay there, counting each other’s breaths until Daryl seemed to realize that they would be trapped there forever unless something changed. His voice scraped the dark as he said, “Engine seized up. On our way back. Fuckin’ thing just died. And we musta been on the only empty road in the goddamn world.
“It was dark so we stayed in the truck. Next day we walked back to where we dropped the kid off, five miles or so, grabbed another truck and headed back here.”
“And that took all day?”
“Road was a little more crowded on the second pass. Got a little hairy. Mostly ‘cause our dumbass sheriff brought the wrong caliber ammo for his piece. He ain’t that efficient with a knife.”
The rest of the story was in what he didn’t say. They were massively outnumbered. For them to have to use guns, to have to reload. Tanya wondered what state the truck was in. She saw Rick and Daryl, back to back, each shooting out his own window, switching to a knife when hands started reaching inside. How many had there been? How close had they come? A shiver coursed through her and she didn’t want to hear anymore.
“I’m glad you made it back.”
A grunt in response.
“Seriously. Glenn was about to start a revolution; take over leadership.”
“Little man’s welcome to it,” but the laugh that accompanied the statement was real and Tanya knew they were passed the disaster. Neither of them was going to bring it up again.
She still wanted to reach out and touch him, but didn’t know how. Instead, Tanya turned over on her side and sought his face in the dark. If he felt her watching, Daryl kept his eyes closed anyway. His chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths and by timing hers to them, Tanya was able to drift off to sleep.
Nothing stopped her nightmares. She could only ever hope they weren’t the screaming kind, didn’t leave her shaking and nauseous for the rest of the day. They were so familiar now, that Tanya didn’t think they could change; but there was always room for new fears.
Held down, helpless, hopeless, useless, thrashing, hurting. Her own role was the same as it ever was. Daryl’s presence was almost as much of a shock as his screams. They tore him apart in front of her; there had never been so much blood. His face was like she’d never seen it, stripped of everything but fear and pain. There was so much blood. There was too much blood. Too much blood for real life.
Wake up. Wake up!
A drowning gasp and not a scream marked her entrance back into the real world, but Tanya didn’t arrive all at once. Her arm flew out to the side, desperately reaching for Daryl, searching for confirmation of life, proving that he was really back with her and not dead on the highway. She found his wrist, warm and strong under her fingers. There was tension, he flinched as she brushed his skin, but he wasn’t entirely unprepared. Wrenching her eyes open, Tanya found him staring at her, waiting for her.
Of course he hadn’t woken her after what had happened before. Tanya felt the sheets tangled around her legs and knew she had at least been thrashing and probably moaning and her face felt hot. She snatched her hand away from his and clenched her fists as she tried to slow her racing heart.
“What was it?” Daryl asked
Slowly Tanya turned back toward him and found his blue eyes waiting for her. His face was gentle, not mocking and she felt the softness of his words in her chest. He’d never asked before and Lord knows he’d seen her in this state often enough. He would ask now; the one time everything was different.
“Engine just seized up,” she whispered. “On your way back. There were walkers everywhere.”
Daryl stiffened and Tanya closed her eyes, turning her head back to face the roof of the tent. The nightmare was nothing, nothing, compared to what had gripped her before she fell asleep. The terror of his death was a living thing, cold, black, and choking her. She didn’t really want him to know, but she couldn’t keep it inside.
“Everything was falling apart. Lori- None of us knew what to do. We didn’t know how we were going to go on. I didn’t know how I was-”
The threat of a sob cut off a sentence she didn’t know how to end anyway. Not that she would have gotten the chance, because Daryl was on top of her then, not comforting, but nearly snarling, pinning her shoulders to the ground.
“You’d fucking go on,” he said, his face so close she could feel his breath. “You hear?” He shook her. “I don’t care how; you’d just fucking go on. Jesus.”
If he was expecting an answer, he was disappointed because Tanya couldn’t give him one. Startled, but not scared, she stared up into his face, marveling at the wildness in his eyes, something that was almost like fear. With his hold still tight on her, Tanya couldn’t reach up to embrace him, but bending her arms at the elbows she could place her palms on the backs of his arms, caressing gently, reassuring him that she was there and would be as long as she could.
And then he kissed her. The crush of Daryl’s mouth on hers was really only pleasant in the sense of desperation Tanya could feel in it. His need for her, whatever it was driven by, pushed out any other feeling she was having except her own aching need. But she didn’t dare to moan; she didn’t dare to whimper, which was the more likely sound given that she thought he might have split her lip. She didn’t want to do anything that would bring Daryl back to himself, make him remember that he did not want to be kissing her.
The need for air outweighed all and eventually he pulled back but not away. To Tanya’s surprise, he kissed her again and then again, softer, and then softer and rested his forehead against hers, breathing, waiting. They both breathed and it was entirely up to her. If she waited long enough he would roll off her, maybe apologizing, but probably not acknowledging the emotional assault then or ever. If she kept him there, there was a good chance he wouldn’t even look at her in the morning. But if it didn’t happen now there was every chance it never would.
Lifting one hand up to cradle the back of his head, Tanya licked her lips and whispered, “I hear you.”
His eyes snapped open and they were darker than she’d ever seen them. Before he could object, Tanya kissed him, her mouth demanding, her tongue tasting his lips until he opened his mouth to her, everything burning. Her shoulders ached as he finally moved his hands, releasing her so he could get closer, lowering himself onto her, letting her feel him against her bare legs.
Helpless, she moaned and the sound made Daryl suck in his breath. “Fuck,” he breathed, abandoning her mouth to kiss his way down her neck.
He showed remarkable restraint by not simply tearing her shirt from body. Quickly but efficiently he undid the buttons, ignoring the lower ones once her breasts were open to his mouth. Even Daryl’s patience had its limits.
It was easy to surrender herself to him, clutching his hair while he tormented her, making up for what he lacked in skill and tenderness with hunger and the warmth of his mouth. But when he slid a hand up her thigh, pushing aside her shirt and slipping his fingers under the band of her underwear, Tanya wanted more. She wanted him to feel her the way she was feeling him right now. Placing her hands on his cheeks, she drew his mouth back up to hers and then put her fingers to work on the buttons of his shirt.
She should have pushed him away instead of pulling him closer if she wanted to get his clothes off, Tanya realized. The feel of his mouth on hers cost her all of her dexterity. It was so hard to focus on the tiny fucking buttons when all she wanted was to melt into him. Daryl noticed.
“Christ sakes,” he said, sitting up and pulling the shirt over his head.
He had the deepest farmer’s tan Tanya had ever seen, his arms and the swathe of his chest where he usually kept the top button open were dark brown while the rest of him was so white he nearly glowed. She smiled, but contained the laugh that would have sent Daryl running and skimmed her hands up his torso. Under her fingertips, his muscles flexed involuntarily and she throbbed for him shuddering for her. She wanted to trace the path with her fingertips, tasting him with her tongue and making him groan but suddenly there seemed to not be enough time.
Now, now, now.
While Daryl tried to find her mouth again, Tanya grabbed at his jeans. This time the button gave way easily and she tore them open. He started to say something, but the words dissolved into a guttural groan as Tanya slid her hand into his boxers and took him in her hand. The sensation and his response to it thrilled her; she stroked the length of him and used her other hand to try and pull his jeans down for better access.
Capturing both of her hands, Daryl forced her backward. He held her hands above her head and stared at her, eyes dark and… and what? Through the haze of her desire, Tanya suddenly realized the intimacy of this moment. She didn’t know if Daryl was afraid of hurting her or of her wanting him or if he didn’t think he was any good. She didn’t care. If tenderness freaked him out, they didn’t have to be tender; but they couldn’t stop. Not now.
“Please,” she breathed, lifting her hips, pressing against him. “Daryl, please.”
Gripping both of her wrists, he pulled her up, just far enough that he could reach her underwear with his other hand. Daryl yanked at them, cursing as they twisted and tangled. Tanya lifted her ass from the ground and then pulled her knees up so he could get them off more easily. When he’d managed it, flinging the fabric against the tent wall, Daryl didn’t look back at her. He pushed his own pants down to his knees and his hold on her wrists hurt.
Neither looking at her face nor releasing her, Daryl lowered her back down to the floor and followed after her. Tanya started to squirm. She wanted her arms. She wanted to kiss his chest and guide him into her and clutch him to her, but he denied her. Roughly grabbing the back of her right leg below the knee, he forced it toward her chest and thrust completely into her.
Her body arched and her mouth opened in a silent ‘O’. She wasn’t as ready as she thought she’d been, but even the ache amplified the pleasure of having him inside her. Daryl groaned in her ear and when he pulled nearly all the way out before plunging back into her, she cried out loud.
“Ah. Oh. Daryl. Daryl, please.”
She thrashed under him, trying to push him deeper and trying to pull her arms free. “Please. Daryl-” Make me. Let me.
At last he moved her arms. He didn’t let her go, but this time she was pinned with her arms bent and her hands at her shoulders. This time he laced his fingers with hers. That simple gesture and one more hard thrust at their new angle sent Tanya over the edge and the “oh” that escaped her lips was a growl. Pleasure so sweet that it was almost painful tingled through her. But her orgasm was short, too short. Tanya whimpered as she chased it, pulling her legs up, wrapping them around Daryl’s waist, begging him, pleading with him to help her back there.
There was no going back. Desperate as Tanya was for the slow burning ache to rebuild within in her, Daryl no longer had the presence of mind to wait for her. He quickened their pace and his breath was erratic. Tanya matched him. As much as she wanted her own satisfaction, she wanted his with her in her from her more. He kissed her neck, surprising her; the gentleness of his lips on her pulse was a sweetness she hadn’t dared to hope for.
His groan as he came. The weight of him against her chest as he sagged against her. The smell of the two of them. The tingle between her thighs. The warmth of him inside of her. Tanya savored each sensation. She tried to memorize them for the weeks ahead when they would pretend this hadn’t happened because there was no place for this in the new world. Mostly she treasured the feel of his hands in hers. The callous of his palms and the roughness of his fingers. He didn’t let go. As he rested on top of her and they both caught their breath, Daryl kept his hands locked with hers.
His head was on her breast; his hair tickled her skin. Not thinking, or rather thinking that it was her only chance, Tanya pressed her lips to his temple. Daryl looked up.
Sex had stripped him of his intensity. He couldn’t be angry or hard in that moment and his gaze was even softer than when she’d awoken from her dream. There was a timidity there in the blue of his eyes. A shyness, an uncertainty that tempered the pleasure and the satisfaction. Tanya saw the boy who yearned for so much and thought he deserved so little and it broke her. She lifted her head. Kissed his cheek. The corner of his mouth. His lips. She wanted to comfort him and meld them together.
When she pulled away, Tanya held his gaze and tried to convey as much as she could with a look. “You hear me?”
Daryl looked away, swallowed, and considered and she held her breath. When he looked back, he squeezed her hands and nodded once, quickly.
“I hear you.”