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woopdeed00da · 25 days ago

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This scene lives in my head rent free.

DarylxFemReader, Alexandria Era.

Summary: An answer to one of @dixondisease’s request where Daryl is at dinner (with the group, sorry it’s just Daryl/Reader and Carol/Tobin) but he’s being somewhat suggestive and they end up in the bathroom down the hall. Enjoy!

Warning: Smut. Fluff. Language? Maybe.

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Daryl hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since dinner started—the rough pad of his thumb brushing across his bottom lip as he pops the digit into his mouth to savor every taste of Carol’s food. It’s making your heart race and your face flush pink.

“Everything taste okay?”

Carol has to say your name twice before you jerk your attention up to her concerned expression.

“Y-yeah—yes. Everything was delicious Carol—t-thank you.”

Your eyes cut back to Daryl as a huff of amusement escapes him. His smile. God—his smile is everything. It floods your insides with warmth and love and—Daryl chokes on his drink as you drag your foot up the seam of his jeans, brushing your toes along the inside of his inner thigh as he sits up straighter in his seat.

“Yeah. Real good.” He mutters, letting his ocean eyes fall to your parted lips. Carol and Tobin stand at the same time and start gathering dishes—bringing you to life as you rise to help them.

“We’ve got this. You guys have been on the road all day—take a load off.”

Carol winks.

Daryl clears his throat.

“M’gonna smoke.” He says, chair scraping across the floor desperately as Tobin nods and follows Carol into the kitchen—taking all of the air in the room with them. When Daryl lifts his eyes to yours again it stops you in your tracks, fingers hesitating over your fork as he jerks his head to the hallway and the lone half bath near the end.

His gaze tells you everything you need to know—silverware forgotten as you take off down the hall with Daryl on your heels. He doesn’t bother with the light. Grasping your hips to sit you down on the sinks edge and then his mouth is on yours—tongue demanding as strong hands sink into your hair. He cradles your head as it falls back to the mirror and then his hands are on your thighs, sliding your dress up to your waist as he hooks your panties—pulling them off slowly and without breaking the kiss.

A soft gasp rushes from your lungs as his thumb brushes against you, his own low groan vibrating against your throat as he places soft kisses along your jugular. “Yer always ready for me.” He whispers, eyes closed tight as he slips a finger inside of you—arching your back with another soft moan. “Always sound so pretty for me, princess.” Another finger beckons inside of you, rolling your eyes back in your head as his tongue takes its time across your throat.

His teeth graze the spot just blow your ear, breathing heavy as you sink your nails into his shoulders and try to pull him closer. “Daryl…, please—I need y—-.” His mouth is on yours again, demanding—one hand in your hair pulling you forward as his slow tongue moves with yours, the other deep inside of you—thumb brushing slowly against your clit.

A whimper escapes you with each pass.

Daryl pulls away just enough to take in a breath, eyes wild and searching as your head falls back against the mirror again. “…so beautiful.” He whispers suddenly, shifting the energy in the room for just a second as you reach out to brush your fingers along his jaw. He turns his head and kisses your palm then he’s kissing you again. Working his fingers inside of you until he feels your body begin to coil. Your hands rake into his hair as your moans fill his throat—body quaking with desire as he hits that perfect spot—shattering you as you cry out against his lips.

“Good girl.” The words rumble between you as his kisses turn slow—savoring, bringing out the softest little moans that turn his blood into liquid heat.

“I bet ya taste as good as ya sound baby.”

Another gasp.

Then he’s on his knees before you—spreading your thighs apart to bury his face between your legs. Your body curls around him as he moans into your heat—lapping up every drop like a man starved. Desperate hands grasping your hips to pull you closer, guiding your legs over his shoulders as his tongue fills you—making tiny stars dot your vision as you grasp his hair, pulling gently and bringing on another deep moan from the man on his knees before you.

“Daryl—.”

You clasp your hand over your mouth to muffle the sob that rushes from your lungs, falling back on the sink as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

Body trembling as you come undone.

Daryl doesn’t stop until your moans turn back to whimpers—kissing the insides of each thigh as your body begins to relax in his arms.

When he pushes to his feet—a rough hand running over his mouth you feel your soul leave your body. He looks so sexy standing before you—illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight coming through the window. He looks feral—primal and when his hand clasps his belt you spread your legs wider for him receiving a slow grin as he settles between them.

“Such a good girl for me.” Daryl whispers against your ear, eyes closing as your hand caresses his throat then his chest—sliding between you to stroke him, running your thumb over the sensitive head as his breath catches as you lean forward to kiss him slowly.

You take your time, brushing your tongue against his lips in the same slow motion you’re using to stroke his aching cock. It’s Daryl’s turn to whimper, tightening his fingers in your hair as he forces his tongue into your mouth—kissing you deeply as his hips jerk with need. When he pulls away this time your hand falters, eyes closing as he presses his forehead against yours.

“…gonna make me cum if ya keep doing that.”

His words are feather soft against your lips, setting your soul on fire as you guide him to your soaked center—grasping his hips as he sinks into you with one harsh thrust, his mouth on yours—swallowing the moan that rushes between you.

Daryl groans a slur of profanity against your jaw—one hand coming up to press against the mirror while the other wraps around your hips to hold you against him as he thrusts into you deeply.

Over and over—he feels you tighten around him while he pours everything he has into fucking you. The groan that leaves his throat when you wrap your legs around his hips brings him closer.

Deeper.

Squeezing him so good his strokes falter.

Rough hands sink in your hair—resting his forehead against yours as he fucks up into you harder—stealing his breath as you come undone around him, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck as you cry out desperately—bringing him over the edge with you.

Daryl’s eyes close tight as he fills you, groaning against your temple as his limbs nearly give out and he sinks into you further.

Your breathing is shallow, limbs limp and trembling as Daryl rests against you—forehead still pressed to yours, both of your chests rising and falling in perfect rhythm. His hands, those strong, callused hands now stroke your thighs with a reverence that makes your heart ache.

“You okay?” He mumbles, voice gravel-soft, guilt brushing the edges. You nod, bringing your hand up to sweep his damp hair back from his forehead. “Better than okay.” You whisper and that’s when you see it—his whole face softening, eyes lifting to yours with something raw and beautiful flickering there—like he wants to say something but the words are too big for his chest.

Instead, he leans in and presses the softest kiss to your collarbone. Then another. Then your jaw. Your cheeks. He worships you with his mouth, the way he’s never been taught to with words.

“Daryl.” His name falls from your lips like a warning. If he doesn’t stop neither of you will ever leave this bathroom. He pulls away with a soft laugh, hanging his head between you for a moment before he nods knowingly. Eventually someone—Carol—will come looking for you.

Daryl helps you down from the sink gently, tucking your dress back in place before running his hands down your arms. “You shake like a baby deer.” He whispers with a half-smirk, pulling your panties from his back pocket and crouching slightly to help you step into them.

When he lifts his eyes to yours you see vulnerability like you’ve never seen with him.

Daryl is strong and brave but right now he looks lost in everything he can’t say. He stands, thumb brushing your bottom lip—slow and trembling like he’s never touched anything this soft before. He continues down your jaw—across your cheek. To your neck where your pulse flutters beneath his fingertips.

And then both his hands are cradling your face—calloused palms cupping you so gently, like he’s terrified you might break and you swear he’s never looked at anyone the way he’s looking at you right now.

Like you’re the only peace he’s ever known.

His lips part like maybe he wants to speak but nothing comes. His brow pulls together and you can see him fighting it—the wall, the fear, the aching need to say something he’s never said to anyone before.

He swallows hard, gaze falling as he presses a kiss to your forehead then your nose—finally meeting your lips. His breath is shaky, hands still framing your face like you’re keeping him from falling apart.

It’s the first time you’ve ever seen Daryl scared—not of you but what you mean to him. Just as your hand comes up to cradle the back of his neck—to assure him you know even if he can’t say it—a loud crash from somewhere in the house shatters the moment like glass—jerking you both apart.

Daryl blinks, jaw tightening slightly as he straightens and fumbles with his belt, the clink of the buckle echoing in the quiet. You smooth your dress, cheeks still flushed—heart pounding.

Without a word, he takes your hand—fingers lacing through yours, warm and certain—leading you silently down the hall toward the sound of the crash. Nothing prepares you for what you see when you step into the dining room.

Carol is flat on her back across the table giggling breathlessly. Tobin hovers over her, shirt half undone and eyes feral as he braces a hand beside her head. The table groans beneath them as Carol wraps her legs tight around his waist like they’ve forgotten they were entertaining guests.

You freeze in the doorway—eyes wide, stunned as Tobin finally notices movement and glances up, face red—not from embarrassment but sheer exertion.

“Uh—hey guys. We thought you left—“

You place your hand over your mouth to muffle the laugh bubbling in your throat. “Obviously.” Daryl assures with a grunt—matching Carol’s sly grin as he tugs you towards the door.

“Ya’ll are lucky that table’s solid oak.” He adds, tightening his fingers around yours as you thank them for dinner and slip out into the cool night air.

Daryl huffs out a laugh—shaking his head. “Better them than us.” You whisper, a smile ghosting in your lips. When he looks at you everything stills. His smile softens. The lines around his eyes ease. He steps closer, cupping your face in his hand like it’s instinct, like he has to.

You lift up on your toes to kiss him under the soft glow of the porch light, carding your fingers through the back of his damp hair.

“Y/N…, I…” Daryl chokes on the words desperate to escape him. Shaking his head again—forcing them out. “…love you.”

Four broken words stop you in your tracks. Barely audible but so so powerful. Daryl watches you like you determine his next breath—your smile lighting up his entire world, pulling him out of the darkness.

“I know.” You whisper, letting your thumb brush against the side of his neck. The undeniable shiver that runs through him making you giggle again. “I love you too, Daryl.”

He smiles, unable to meet your eyes as you continue the slow strokes against his skin until he’s squirming—shoulders twitching like he might bolt, but he doesn’t.

He stays.

With you—breathing the same soft night air.

The cicadas hum somewhere far off. The porch creaks beneath your feet. And for once, there’s nothing to run from. No walkers. No fear.

Just this.

Just him.

Daryl slips his arms around your waist and pulls you close, burying his face in the bend of your neck. You feel the brush of his lips there—warm and reverent like he’s finally found exactly where he belongs.

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