Just a bit of fun for my friends on Tumblr... thought I'd share it with my friends here as well.
The Walking Dead isn't mine.
They'd gotten into a routine. Every evening after eating and before watch he would find her in her cell and sit awhile. Sometimes they were silent, each doing their own chore. Carol still mending most of the clothes. Daryl cleaning his bow. Sometimes they'd talk. He'd surprise her with a gossipy jab at the expense of one of the others. But she'd laugh, which was clearly his goal, as he always broke into a pleased grin, which he ducked to hide.
At first she thought he sought out her company just to avoid everyone else. He hadn't exactly warmed to the Woodbury group, though he'd agreed with Rick's decision to bring them back to the prison. But as time went on and Fall crept toward Winter, Carol allowed herself to wonder if Daryl might just prefer her company. It hadn't escaped her notice that when they sat together in the evenings, he had been very gradually choosing to settle himself closer to her. She didn't say a word.
Every night she heard him come in from watch and settle in his cell. She never really drifted off into sleep until she knew he was in for the night. He walked softly, but she knew his step. Then, for several nights, she heard him pause outside her cell. He'd hover there for a space of time that stretched as the number of nights increased. And then he'd move on.
Finally, one night, she heard him enter. She was about to turn over and speak, when she felt the bunk sink from his weight. She heard his boots hit the floor as he removed them. He seemed to hesitate again, but in one movement, lifted her comforter and slid into the bed next to her. He lay on his side with his back to her and she wondered if she should acknowledge him, or just feign sleep.
"This alright?" His voice barely a whisper.
"Yeah." She answered quietly, deciding not to question his presence there, or worse, tease him.
After that it seemed settled. He bunked with her. She wasn't even sure if anyone else had noticed. He only joined her after his watch and was always gone on his hunt before the sun rose. She could convince herself that she'd imagined the whole thing. Except that some of his things had found a home in her cell. Perhaps the others were all politely ignoring the leather vest hung over the end of her bunk.
As it got colder, Carol theorized that she was serving as a bed warmer. Daryl would lift the covers and fold his frozen body into her cozy bunk. He made her shiver. He noticed this one night and for the first time, turned toward her, pressing his body against hers and resting a hand over her hip.
"This alright?" He whispered into her hair.
"Yeah." She said, and so they slept with his body wrapped around hers.
And so it seemed to be settled that Daryl slept curled around her every night. Things progressed more quickly after that, surprising her.
Once his icy fingers slid just inside her shirt.
"This alright?" In spite of the goose bumps everywhere, it was.
Another night his icy fingers traveled further and cupped her breast.
"This alright?" She simply moved her own hand to cover his and pressed down firmly, encouraging him to stay just where he was. This seemed to be his preferred position, and each night after that, his hand would claim her breast.
Some time after that, braver, he pulled her hips tight to himself and pressed his erection against her.
"This alright?" She rubbed against him appreciatively. He rubbed back.
Not too much time had passed after that when his hand found it's way down the front of her pants.
Always she answered, "Yes, yes, yes."
Finally one night as he was bucking into her wildly, he froze, realizing he'd forgotten to ask.
"Don't stop!" Carol gasped. "It's alright! It's alright."
Afterwords, she reached up and kissed him, letting her lips linger.
"This alright?" She asked.
He grinned sheepishly at her before grabbing a handful of breast and snuggling in for the night.
"More than alright." He muttered.