Picture You
You and Daryl both fantasize about each other--at the same time it turns out.
Inspired by Picture You by Chappell Roan
Content warnings: smut !!!!
I had to run and splash cold water over my face after this one
black font: you blue font: Daryl purple font: when you're actually together
There had been a lot of…touching going on lately. That’s as plain as you could explain it. Anytime you were near Daryl, he’d find a way to put his hand on the small of your back if he was passing behind you. He would manage to sit by you a lot, brushing the side of his arm against yours. On runs lately, he stayed closer to you, touching your arm to get your attention. Protecting you even when against the smallest threats. You noticed him…watching you too. If Daryl were anywhere near you, his eyes were always latched onto you; studying, assessing… admiring? You weren’t sure if you’d go that far. But god, did you love it.
He couldn’t stop himself from just…being around you. You had some sort of magnetic field specifically calculated to his center of gravity–his true north. He couldn’t help the times he’d brush by you, his hand on you or if he was lucky enough to be close, smell the lingering scent of your shampoo. Even if you hadn’t showered in days, which sometimes was the case, your scent drew him into you. He couldn’t stop watching you either. Everytime he caught himself staring and you’d meet his gaze, he would kick himself for probably being such a creep. You were hypnotizing to him.
So, he finds himself in the bathroom alone, thinking of you at dinner that day. Sucking your fingers clean after your meal, licking your lips when you looked up at him. He’s unsure if he was imagining the hunger in your eyes–even after a full meal.
He’d been aching in his trousers the entire time it took him to excuse himself from the group and make his way down the cell blocks into the bathroom, shutting the door tightly behind him. In what must’ve been a guard’s bathroom–it was a single washroom with a counter for the sink and white tile all along the room, from floor to ceiling. When he finally was confident he was in the bathroom alone with the door locked, he unzips his pants and pulls out his already throbbing member.
His hand is wrapped around the base of himself, teasing and gentle like he pictures you holding it. He closes his eyes, imagining you on the sink in front of him now, sitting on the edge of the cold counter, your legs around his waist. Behind his eyes, he is wrapping his hands around your thighs as he leans into you, his mouth on yours, tongue plunging into your warm, wanton mouth. He can almost smell you, imagining the scent of cheap green apple shampoo you found on your last run. His tongue dances with yours, letting himself take control of the embrace, his mouth claiming you. His hand fists his cock slowly up and down, but tightening his grip as he pictures you reaching down to palm him through his pants. In his mind’s eye he kisses along your jaw, down to where your neck meets your shoulder, eliciting a small moan from you. He pulls back from you, lifting your shirt over your head gently, but with haste. When he looks back at you, your eyes are half lidded with desire, lips wet and swollen. God, you’re so fucking pretty like this. So needy for him. His lips reattach to the skin of your neck, your hand coming up behind his to hold him close. Your fingers reach and scratch gently at the nape of his neck. His lips journey down your body, tongue gliding around your nipples before he pulls one into his mouth between his teeth. Your heavy breathing and moans bring a smile to his face as he looks back up in your eyes.
He crouches down, his hands coming behind your knees and down your calves, bringing your bottoms and panties down with them. After discarding your clothes, he begins kissing your legs from your ankles, nipping when he gets to the softness of the inside of his thighs. He imagines your hand coming down and intertwining in his long hair. He lifts his eyes up to yours as he slowly makes his way to your center, your legs trembling in anticipation. His mouth meets your dripping—
Daryl’s hand comes up against the mirror roughly, losing control of himself. His eyes flash open as he stumbles and grips the wall beside the sink, steadying himself. He has to release his hand from himself to keep from finishing right then and there. He’s not done with you yet, even if it’s just in his mind.
You’re settling into your cot a little while after dinner. Daryl had been watching you again today. So, you decided to play his little game back at him. At dinner you saw him watching you with a predator’s gaze. He was fixed on you through the whole meal, so god forbid you wanted to be a little tease. You made sure to lick your fingers clean slowly, licking your lips looking at him afterwards. It took you aback when you saw his eyes darken even more, but you just returned the look with one just as hungry. Eventually he excused himself a little while later, but the look in his eyes was on your mind the rest of your time you stayed at the table.
Back in your bed, you have your hands traveling down your chest, over the thin fabric between your fingers and sensitive nipples. You let your eyes flutter closed, imagining Daryl’s hands traveling where your’s are. You slowly let them drift down your stomach, pressing your thumb in gentle circles on your hips. Your legs can’t help but start to fidget as you get more and more impatient for him. In your fantasy, Daryl is leaning over you now, bringing his lips down to the sensitive skin of your hips, nipping at you affectionately, bringing his tongue out in apologies when he bites you harder, making your hips buck.
“Easy,” he would growl out, his breath fanning over your eager center. He turns his head and bites, licks, nips, sucks on your inner thigh near the juncture of your apex and leg. Your hand reaches down to intertwine into his long hair, your body begging for him.
Your fingers slowly meet your wetness, starting on the lips and entrance, imagining his tongue there instead. Circling your most sensitive area without giving you what you want most. Your back is arching off the bed, sweat starting to bead on your chest and forehead. You imagine his hands gripping your hips harder now, trying to steady you as he devours you. His tongue finally comes into contact with your clit, flattening his tongue and laving at it like it’s his last meal on earth. He purses his lips, suckling you and grazing his teeth against the nub. Your eyes flash open at the feeling of it, pausing and breathing heavily. You stare at the top bunk above you, collecting yourself before you get too close to the edge. You gently glide your fingers down again, toward your slippery hole.
Daryl has his mouth back on your center in his mind. Fisting his cock again, he leans back against the bathroom wall, mouth slightly agape, eyes closed in ecstasy. In his mind’s eye, he is kissing, sucking, eating, nipping, devouring you. Your fingers tighten in his hair and your legs are resting over his shoulders as he brings his fingers up to tease your entrance, his mouth never leaving you. You gasp and buck when he inserts a long finger into you, immediately finding the corner of your walls that makes your eyes roll. You’re already close, he can feel you tightening around him and he brings another finger into you. Your hips are undulating against his hand, riding his fingers in pure bliss. Your sweet, gushing cunt is convulsing against his fingers, your legs beginning to tense. But before you have a chance to finish, he pulls away from you.
“Jesus, Daryl” you whisper to yourself, your hips bucking at your own fingers inside of you. You’re grinding against your own hands, trying to find the friction you so badly need.
“Fuck,” Daryl growls out loud as his hand is moving faster on himself, his cock hot and heavy in his hand. He’s raising himself up in front of you, hands back under your thighs to pull you towards him. His cock slides up and down your soaked entrance, and your hands are gripping his arms, nails pressing into him, eager. So eager for him. Your body begging before you can speak the words, “Daryl,” he imagines you whispering into his neck, finally able to make a coherent word in your blissed out state, “please,”.
He grabs your hips, pulling you into him fully. He lets his throbbing cock enter you. Your head falls back and his mouth meets your throat, loving the salty taste of your sweat on his tongue now. The symphony of your moans and slapping of skin echoes in his ears making his cock twitch in his hand.
You’re gyrating against your hand in hopeless abandon, your other hand coming up to graze your nails against your throat, imagining Daryl’s teeth on you while he enters you. He isn’t a quiet lover in your mind—he’s grunting against your skin, his mouth vibrating with the sound coming from him. You don’t mean to you but your quiet whispers of ecstasy are turning into whimpers. And when your fingers finally find that one spot, hitting your clit perfectly against the heel of your palm, you let out a moan.
“Daryl,”
Your moaning is driving Daryl wild, he’s thrusting into you with sweet abandon, pulling you flush against him like he can’t get you close enough. But suddenly he takes a pause from a disturbance in the hallway outside. He stills and listens intently. There’s a gentle echoing out in the cell block and—did he just hear his own name? No, no, he’s just imagining it from thinking of you.
No wait— yes. Yes, that's his name. Softly being called out to him. He tucks his pulsing, aching member back into his pants in what only can be described as bewilderment. He gets out of the bathroom and softly walks down the cell block, getting closer to the sounds of a desperate whimpering.
You are careful not to let another loud moan out again, aware people could be sleeping around you. But you truly could not contain the whimpers coming out of your mouth, the heavy breathes that you were gulping as you continued to ride your hand, imagining the archer’s cock deep inside you. You wondered what he’d really feel like, how he’d stretch you out as you’d cling to his gorgeous biceps. Would he be slow and agonizingly tender or would he be so ravenous he wouldn’t be able to be gentle with you? You knew in your core you didn’t want him gentle. At least not the first time he got his hands on you. You’re palming your own chest, imagining his hand grabbing, pulling, kneading your breast. Your legs are trembling from the pressure building in your core now, your skin flushing with heat. You can’t help the desperate whimpers escaping from you now in the moonlit cell block, forgetting the people sleeping around you. His name keeps slipping through your mouth along with a string of incoherent curses.
“Are you going to cum for me?” You hear him say, but you jolt with electricity when you realize it wasn’t in your head. Your eyes fly open, your body frozen in place. You are fully and completely in the direct view of the archer in the doorway. His eyes are hauntingly dark with desire, and when you get a good look at him, his pants are tight against his lower half.
“What—what’re you—“ you hoarsely whisper.
He makes his way over to you, pulling your hand up to his face, taking both of your fingers into his mouth to taste you. His tongue glides deliciously around your sensitive finger tips, sucking and grazing his teeth just as you imagined him.
“Do you want—“ he whispers.
“Yes, god yes,” you plead.
He stands and begins to undress, your hands all over him and soaking in the sight of his beautiful body. Your fingers trace the lines of his muscles as he discards the last of the things keeping you from him. He joins you in the bed, leaning over you, caging you in between his arms on either side of your head.
“I wanna hear you say my name again,” he whispers, holding his fingers against your wet center.
“Please, please no teasing. I need to know what you feel like,” you beg of him.
He groans, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. His sweat slicked hair sticking to you as he kisses and bites you tenderly. You reach down and grasp his member in your hand. It’s hot and thick and heavy with need. He growls against your skin, sitting up now and taking your hand off of him. He interlaces your fingers and puts them back by your head, making you helpless. His other hand is on his cock, leading himself up to your entrance. He is sliding the head along your drenched center and your hips buck with need.
“I’ve been thinking about you, just like this. Under me, on top of me, all of you. Been thinkin’ about it a long time,” his voice is hoarse, almost a whisper.
“Daryl,” you whisper. Your other hand is grabbing for him on his stomach, chest, shoulders. Touching anything you can reach, “please”
He plunges into you in sweet euphoria, and your moan escapes you before he has time to cover your mouth with his large hand. He leans on top of you now, his weight pressed into you as he thrusts with desperation into you. God, you feel just as good as he expected. Better even. Tight, warm, delicious walls constricting around him.
He doesn’t relent, bringing his hand down between you finally to press his thumb on your sensitive nub. Your eyes roll back and you're meeting his hips with every thrust now. He’s beginning to get messy with his rhythm and his sweat drips down onto your chest.
“Fuck,” he grunts.
You nod vigorously, “I’m–mm so c-close-ss-” you breathe, gripping his arms with desperation.
“Cum with me, baby, please–fuck. I want to see you cum with my cock inside you,” he says breathlessly. Your back arches at his words, and the feeling of your cunt convulsing around him topples him over the edge just as you do the same.
Daryl’s face is tucked into your neck as you both take deep breaths. Your hand is on the back of his neck, gently brushing the nape of his neck. He then pulls himself out of you and drops next to you. But he turns and wraps his arm around your body, pulling you in tight. You turn to face him, looking into his icy blue eyes. When you meet his eyes, both oh you can’t help but let out breathy laughs, utterly awed by the night’s events.
