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He watched from a distance as you strolled through the streets of the peaceful community. Not a single incident in months, how about that? It was nice to relax for a while.
Deanna had put a halt on recruiting for a while, after the attack by the Wolves, so Daryl had kind of been twiddling his thumbs, begging for an excuse to leave beyond the walls. He felt so closed up.
He had too much time on his hands, too much room in his brain for thoughts and feelings. He didn't like it. Ever since he stopped going out, he crossed your path often. You were quiet, shy even. You rarely spoke up unless spoken to. You didn't make eye contact often, if at all. But most of all, you were beautiful. From your head to your toes. He'd often find himself admiring your (hair length) (hair color) hair. It framed your face perfectly. When the sun would shine just right, your (skin tone) skin would glow in ways he hadn't noticed before.
Your body was something else entirely. The shape of you drove him nuts. The way your ass swayed when you walked. You didn't even have to try, you were effortlessly seductive.
He gulped as you walked up your steps and went inside. He wondered how hard it would be to initiate a conversation, to get to know you. He shook his head. Surely that was a foolish idea. As a whole, he had bigger things he needed to be worried about. So, surely asking you about something important would be harmless, right?
You worked at the pantry with Olivia, who had mentioned to him recently that they'd need to stock up soon. He decided to ask you to make him a list. Then, he'd get to talk to you, and he'd have an excuse to go on a run. Two birds, one stone, right? Right. He sucked in a breath of confidence and strode to your door. He went to knock but his fist stopped just centimeters from the door.
"Oh.." He heard you whine. Were you crying? He tried to peek through the tall slender windows on either side of your door. The glass was lightly frosted, so the image was blurry, but he could make out a silhouette on the couch.
"Daryl.." You moaned out louder. His heart stopped. His neck and ears heated ashe gulped. Were you...?
----
You stared at the sidewalk as you walked home from work. You couldn't get the image out of your mind. Daryl was there earlier, rearranging shelves for you and Olivia. In his tight black button up shirt, his muscles bulged against the fabric, aching to bust out. Or, maybe you were just aching to bust them out. Either way, your lustful mind couldn't get enough. The visual was painted vividly in your mind's eye, and you'd be storing it permanently in your vault of lewd thoughts about the quiet archer.
The entire rest of your shift was spent silently fantasizing about all the ways you'd let him use and abuse you, if only he wanted anything to do with you. You'd never even spoken to him, beyond a quiet and polite thank you or a curt nod in passing. By the time you made it to your door, you were throbbing between your legs. You couldn't hold it back. You didn't even care to scurry up the stairs and hide away in your bed. No, you simply threw your pants to the ground and sprawled out on the couch, slipping your fingers right inside your panties.
You started with a gentle trace up and down your slit with a single finger. You stared up at the ceiling, using your imaginary paintbrush to paint a picture on the white canvas. Images of Daryl, his arms, his hands, the way he walked, each drag of a cigarette.
You got worked up pretty fast. You got tired of teasing yourself. Wasn't lusting over an unattainable man torture enough?
You slipped a finger inside yourself and sucked in a sharp breath, using your wetness to rub circles over your clit. "Oh..." You whined, closing your eyes, picturing his fingers in place of your own. You sped up the pace a little, rocking your hips as the tension began to build. You pictured the way he'd look down at you if he were there instead of your fingers. How he'd hold you still so you couldn't wiggle out of his grasp, how he'd make you cum until you begged him to stop, and he'd probably keep going.
"Daryl.." You moaned out, feeling a knot build in your abdomen. You were getting so close.
----
He listened closely. You were moaning, that was for sure, but all he could see through the foggy windows was a blob on the couch that appeared to be moving.
Fuck it, he thought. The tension was killing him. If you were moaning his name in there, there was no reason for him to hold back and be polite. He only hoped he could catch you in the act.
He carefully grabbed the doorknob, hoping you wouldn't hear him. He twisted softly, and when he realized it wasn't locked, he pushed the door open.
You jumped up and pulled your hand out of your panties, startled and wide-eyed as you stared at him. Shame washed over you as he gazed at you, pushing the door shut behind him.
"Daryl.." You breathed quietly. Your heart was beating so fast your chest could explode. He made slow steps over to you. Each thump of his boots on your floor made you flinch. "W-What are you doing..?"
He glanced down at your wet panties and back up to you as he approached, towering over where you sat on the couch.
"Could be askin' you the same." He rasped. You gulped.
"I was just--"
"You were sayin' my name." He cut you off. Your eyes grew wide. So, he definitely heard you.
"No I wasn't." You lied.
"Mm." He hummed. "Sure sounded like it."
"Well even if I was you shouldn't be eavesdropping at my front--"
"Shh." He hushed, tracing a calloused finger over your lips and down the front of your throat, hooking it on the collar of your shirt. His gaze was predatory, scanning down your body with a sense of starvation that made you tremble.
He dragged another finger up your thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He admired the goosebumps that raised on your soft skin in the wake of his touch. His eyes met yours.
"Tell me to stop and I will." He whispered. Your eyes widened as he leaned in and fluttered shut as his lips brushed against yours. You gasped into the kiss as he snapped with elastic of your underwear against your skin. He pulled back and peered down between your legs. You hadn't told him to stop, but he still hoped his next move would be okay. "Lemme see."
"W-What?"
"Lemme see." He repeated, tugging at the hem of your panties. You were too nerve stricken to act, so you just nodded.
Slowly, he dragged your panties down your thighs and held them up with a nearly invisible smirk. You glanced at the wet spot and blushed shamefully. "All for me?" He teased.
He spread your legs wide.
"Show me." He instructed. Your eyebrows met in confusion. "Show me how ya play with yourself." He clarified.
"I-- I don't.."
"Don't get nervous on me now. Sounded like ya had it under control just a minute ago."
With a shaky hand, you reached between your legs and aimlessly traced a circle over your clit with a single finger, never looking away from his face. He watched you for a minute and shook his head.
"Stop." He ordered. You did. You gasped as he traced his own finger right down your slit one time. "Like this..." He took your finger back to your clit and guided it, gentle laps around your clit causing your hips to jerk. "Now, do it just like that."
You continued as he took his hand away, holding back the noises that threatened to escape. You kept asking yourself what you were doing, if this was even real.
He admired the show for some time, but it became quickly apparent you'd never make yourself cum with him watching like that. You were too nervous and clumsy. You couldn't keep a rhythm and you faltered every time you started to build yourself up to a climax. He gently pulled your hand to the side again.
"Need some help?" He offered. You didn't respond. "Need an answer, darlin'."
You hesitantly nodded.
"Mm. Gon' need more than that." He taunted cockily. You nodded quicker this time, eagerness in your eyes. He smirked. "That's more like it.." He cooed, tracing his fingers up and down your clit gently. You let out a tiny whine.
Between him cutting you off right before you came earlier, and all those times you almost came trying to masturbate in front of him, you were so sensitive, and he could tell. Your clit was swollen and red and every little touch made you jolt and writhe.
"Don't hold out on me. Let me know ya like it." He said as he slipped a finger inside you. You gasped and moaned as he massaged you, slipping a second finger in when he found your sweet spot. You bit down on your bottom lip and rolled your hips. Your moans grew louder and more confident as pleasure crept over you. That bashful, reserved girl from the pantry was quickly melting away, leaving you in a raw, lustful, dirty state.
Your eyes closed as your head fell back on the couch. His thumb pressed down on your clit as his fingers worked carefully inside. You moaned again as his rough thumb traced skillful circles over the sensitive area.
"Say my name." He ordered.
"Daryl.." You moaned shamelessly. He smirked.
"Again."
"Daryl." You whined. He was getting you close.
"Look at me." He demanded.
You opened your eyes and watched him. Your eyelids were lazy and your eyes were glazed and sex drunk.
"Say it."
"Daryl." You squeaked. You were so close. That knot in your stomach was back, tied so tight that the rope was begging to snap.
"What's my name?"
"Daryl." You breathed.
"C'mon, darlin.' Ya wanna cum or not?"
"Daryl... Daryl.."
"That's it." He slowed his pace to a stop, leaving you right at the edge.
"Daryl!" You whined and pouted.
He ignored your plea and pulled your shirt over your head before he tugged your bra down to expose your breasts. Your nipples were hard and bumps littered your skin as the cold air conditioning hit them. He pinched one hard, eliciting a small cry. He played with them a little before he slipped his fingers back inside you and worked his thumb over your clit again. You shuttered and exhaled a shaky moan. That was like, the fourth or fifth time your orgasm was cut off right before it started. It was torture. Painful, blissful, pleasurable torture.
You flinched and squirmed against his fingers, walls clenching and pulsating around his fingers, making it a little harder for him to work them. Nonetheless, he pressed on.
"Look at me." He demanded. You obeyed. Your eyes welled up with tears as he built you back up.
"Please..."You begged.
"Please, what?"
"Please, Daryl."
"Wha'd'ya want?"
"Please, Daryl. I wanna cum."
Triumph washed over him as you begged.
"I'm so close." You whispered.
"Then say it."
"Daryl." You cried.
"Again."
"D-Daryl.."
"Don't stutter."
"Daryl!" You moaned loud. A wave washed over you as you finally reached the climax. Your body shuddered, legs shaking as you moaned and writhed. He kept going until you rode the entirety of your high, only stopping when he was sure you couldn't take anymore.
He looked down at the wet stain between your legs where the couch cushion soaked up all your cum, save for the mess all over his fingers. You shook and whined as he pulled his fingers out, watching with your mouth hung open as he sucked them clean and licked his lips.
"Next time, just ask." He whispered as he kissed your forehead and left your house.