So I owe you guys a big, fat apology for my disappearance. I've still been writing for this story, but I kept getting writers block and smut is not an easy thing to write, at least not for me. Anyway, Daryl's up again. I was working on a Shane piece, but those Dixon's are damn stubborn so I ended up finishing this one first. This is a monster, but I didn't want to break it up or anything so you'll just have to suffer through all the smutty goodness. *GASPS* Oh the horror! Anyway, I haven't abandoned this story and I truly appreciate all the reviews, follows, and favorites! Keep 'em coming and enjoy!
Daryl- Layla + Daryl= BFF's
Layla walked up the metal steps leading to the upper row of cells in their block. The sun was long gone and the sounds of the prison were muted as people readied themselves for bed. Layla was doing the same thing a moment ago in her cell when she'd come across a bottle of Jack Daniels in her backpack. She'd nearly forgotten that she'd picked it up while out on the run earlier that day. She wasn't a whiskey drinker, but she figured someone would be and at that moment she had just the person in mind.
It felt eerie on the second level with the empty row of cells, well nearly empty. There was a cell on the end that was occupied and hopefully the person she was looking for would be there. She tried her best to be stealthy as she walked across the concrete floor. She held the bottle behind her back as she neared the cell with a sheet hung hap hazardously over its doorway. Layla rapped her knuckles against the steel of the bars and waited for an answer. She heard a muffled curse and then shuffling before the sheet was thrown back. Daryl stood blocking the entry to his cell with a shirt thrown on but unbuttoned and his pants sitting dangerously low on his hips. He looked pissed and she immediately felt nervous and stupid for her intrusion. She noticed his eyes had softened somewhat when he'd noticed it was her, but not much. His hair was sticking up and she guessed he'd been in bed already.
"Everythin' alrigh'?" He asked gruffly. She knew he was just being polite. Nothing she'd done suggested she or anyone else was in trouble and so he'd taken the route of trying to be polite while his tone suggested he was already annoyed with her presence. She noticed his hands moved to belatedly button up his shirt and Layla tore her eyes away to answer his question.
"Yeah…I just…I brought you something." She inwardly cursed herself for her fumbling. Daryl made her nervous. It had lessened over the time they'd gotten to know each other, but there was still an underlying anxious energy that surrounded her whenever she was around Daryl. On most occasions he seemed to mirror her own nerves. It made things awkward at times, but she'd grown use to it.
His eyes did a quick sweep of her body at her response and she felt a shiver run through her. His gaze rested back on hers and he stared at her questioningly, waiting for her to continue. She moved her arms to her front and brought the bottle up to eye level so he could get a good look at the label. He didn't say anything at first and she immediately began to explain her reasoning behind presenting him with this impromptu gift.
"I found it today on the run and figured someone might want it. You got the first stop."
"Why?" He asked and it made Layla pause for a second before she shrugged. "You seemed like a whiskey man to me. Am I wrong?"
His lips quirked up into a smirk and for the first time since climbing those steps Layla felt the tension release from her shoulders. His hand reached out and took the bottle from hers. He held the bottle up to the faint moon light and read the label before smirking again.
"You'd be right." He finally said and Layla took immense pleasure in knowing she could read someone like Daryl Dixon. He was a complicated man with a complicated past. He and his brother were survivors of a different kind of hell long before the world ended and Layla had a great amount of respect for him.
"Thought I would be." She quipped. His eyes drew back up to hers and she smiled despite his serious expression. He seemed to be thinking something over as he stared at her. Layla tried hard to hold his gaze, but it was impossible. She felt her cheeks flush and she bit her lip as she quickly averted her gaze to her hands.
"Wanna share?" His voice was low and hesitant and Layla forced herself to meet his eyes again. He was holding the bottle out in invitation. The last time she had any alcohol was at the CDC. It had felt good to get a strong buzz and momentarily forget that flesh eating assholes were trying to kill you. It would be different this time. She'd no doubt be drunk after just a few sips, but she found herself welcoming the idea. It'd be nice to release some control and be in the moment. There may not be much to celebrate, but she was still alive and so was Daryl…that was enough reason for her.
"Sure." She finally answered. He nodded before pulling the sheet back and letting her pass through and into his cell. She'd never been in his personal space before. He was a private guy and it didn't take a scientist to know that Daryl didn't take kindly to people invading his space. Layla noted there wasn't much to the room; the bunks that housed the beds, a chair in the corner that had clothes thrown over it, and his crossbow propped up by the head of the bed. She noticed his blankets and sheets were tangled into a heap that suggested he'd been lying underneath them a moment before.
"Shit, were you already asleep?" She turned to face him as she gestured to the bed. His eyes followed her movements and he shook his head in response.
"Nah, just lyin' down. Doin' more tossin' and turnin' then anythin'."
Layla only nodded and stood awkwardly in the middle of his cell, unsure of what to do or say. She'd hoped he'd take the lead on this one, but he was standing as awkwardly as she was in his own cell. He seemed to snap out of it and quickly moved to the bed to push the blankets and sheets to make a spot for her to sit. She smiled and immediately sat down near the foot of the bed. He hesitated, holding the bottle of Jack in one hand and running his hand through his hair with the other. Finally, he pushed the clothes off the chair and sat it down near the bed facing her.
It bothered Layla that it was this uncomfortable between them. They'd never had any issues or heated exchanges before. Their relationship was underdeveloped compared to the others, but not completely at a loss. It seemed they just had trouble navigating how to interact with each other. Daryl intimidated her and Layla seemed to make him nervous, although she didn't understand why. She'd written it off as him being socially awkward around any woman, but she didn't think that was entirely it. She wanted things to change. She wanted them to be able to talk freely and interact without either of them being self-conscious. Layla decided that it was going to end tonight. She was going to get drunk with Daryl Dixon and they were going to become the best goddamn friends in the world.
Layla leaned forward, with her new mission in mind, and took the bottle from Daryl's hands. He seemed shocked by her actions, but she ignored him and set about opening the glass bottle. The lid was secure and she struggled for a bit before she finally pried the cap off. She smiled victoriously at Daryl and noticed she got a smirk in return.
"You wanna do the honors?" She asked, holding the now uncapped bottle out to him. He shook his head and gestured to her instead.
"Nah, you go ahead. Seein' as how you're in a hurry and all." He was teasing her and she mentally high fived herself. She went to argue his statement, but she knew it was the truth. She needed alcohol in her system and she needed fast.
"Alright, here it goes." She raised the bottle in a mock cheer and took a long pull from the bottle. The whiskey stung her throat, but it wasn't all together horrible. She immediately felt the heat of the alcohol line her stomach and start coursing through her veins. She'd missed that feeling. It was a mixture between disgust and addiction. There was a moment when the taste and smell of alcohol made you feel nauseous and like it almost wasn't worth it, but then you started to feel the power and high that came with being intoxicated. It was an addiction. It was an excuse. An excuse for people to do or say things they normally wouldn't. Layla was going to let Jack Daniels lead her words and actions tonight. It was going to be her excuse.
She'd tried hard not to make a face as the liquid burned down her throat and she felt like she did a good job, until she met Daryl's stare. He was eyeing her with obvious amusement. She laughed and extended the bottle out to him.
"Strong." She warned as he grabbed the bottle. He didn't acknowledge her comment and instead took a long pull, unaffected by the liquor's harsh taste. Layla was impressed. Even if Daryl was a whiskey drinker beforehand, it had to have been awhile since he'd had any. You'd think he'd at least twitch at the potency of it, but he didn't. It made her feel like a wimp in comparison.
They continued to pass the bottle back and forth as Layla talked mostly about her life before the spread of the infection and Daryl would grunt a response or nod, occasionally adding in his own comments or experiences. It was nearly an hour later and she knew she was drunk. She could feel the warmth from the alcohol encase her and the way her body loosened up on the bed. She could feel her comfort level rise as she drank and told Daryl stories from her previous life. He didn't have much to say, but she figured he wasn't annoyed with her yet. He wouldn't be shy about kicking her out if that was the case. Instead, she knew he was listening to her. She could feel his eyes on her as she spoke. She wanted to ask him about his life, about his brother but she was afraid. Afraid he would snap at her or put an end to their drinking session and she didn't want that. Then she remembered her mission. She wanted them to be friends…best friends by the end of the night and in order for that to happen Daryl was going to have to start talking.
"Tell me a story." She demanded softly. His gaze burned in to her for what felt like hours, but had to only be seconds. He looked stone cold sober, but she knew he had to at least have a strong buzz. He didn't do anything for awhile, probably wondering if she was doing some type of drunk rambling, but after a moment he finally spoke up.
"'Bout what?" He drawled, his accent as strong as ever with whiskey in his system. Layla shrugged and swallowed the drink she'd taken from the bottle. The alcohol stopped burning a long time ago.
"Anything…about you and your brother. I bet ya'll had some good stories."
She passed the bottle to him and he immediately took a drink. A small line of whiskey made its way down his throat and Layla couldn't help but follow the liquid as it trailed along his skin. She felt herself heat with lust instead of an alcohol infused warmth and she felt a longing to reach out and lick the path the liquor had taken on his skin. She didn't stop to think about her sudden thoughts or what they could mean. She didn't question the sudden attraction she felt to Daryl. Instead, she went with it. She let herself be pulled with the current.
Layla's thought were quickly interrupted as Daryl's hand roughly wiped off the whiskey around his mouth and neck. He was back to looking at her, accessing her and her request. He expected her to backtrack, but she wouldn't. She was curious about him.
"Nothin' really to tell. Got into a lot of trouble because of my brother's dumbass." The slur was used as a term of endearment rather than an insult and Layla found herself smiling at the signature Dixon finesse.
"What kind of trouble?"
He took another drink of whiskey and then handed the bottle back to her. Layla watched as he seemed to go into his own thoughts and search for something to say.
"There was this time we got thrown out of a strip club." He was playing with the hair on his chin as he smirked at a memory playing in his mind. Layla smiled, happy to see he could conjure up a story.
"For what?" She asked as she put the bottle to her lips.
"Some guys Merle owed money to were there when we showed up. Merle was high as a fuckin' kite. Thought he could take three big ass dudes."
"I'm guessing he couldn't?" Layla guessed playfully. Daryl shook his head and scoffed.
"Hell no…got his ass beat and mine. Funny thing was…" He paused and Layla waited as she took another drink. "While we was gettin' our asses handed to us, Merle got a hold of one of the guys' wallets. I was pissed for him gettin' us kicked out, but he showed me the wallet and all the cash in it and we hauled ass to the other strip club across town."
Layla couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up from her throat. She was picturing the whole scene in her head and couldn't control her amusement at the situation the Dixon brothers got themselves into. Daryl chuckled and that's when Layla knew he was more than a little buzzed. Daryl never laughed about anything. The most anyone seemed to get out of him was a smirk or scoff. It made Layla feel special that she got to see him like this, even if it was alcohol induced.
Her laughter died down as she cradled the nearly empty bottle of whiskey in her lap. She leaned her head back against the wall of the cell as silence once again permeated the air. It wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't awkward. It was peaceful. The kind of silence you use to take in something that happened moments before. She let one of her fingers dance across the rim of the bottle and thought about some of her own experiences from her previous life. She doubted she could compete with anything Daryl and Merle experienced, but she thought she had a fair chance.
"I went to a strip club once." Daryl was busy picking at a hole in his pants, but looked up as soon as she spoke.
"That right?" He mumbled, eyeing her curiously.
"Yep." She answered, still looking down at the bottle in her lap.
"What'd ya think?" She met his eyes at his question and smirked.
"That it looked terrifying getting up there and taking off your clothes in front of a room filled with men."
"Guess so…" He trailed off. He was still picking at the hole in his pants, seemingly distracted by his own thoughts.
"But I got over that pretty quickly." She pointed out as she sipped from the bottle, thinking she should stop but loving the confidence it was giving her in this moment.
"How's that?" He asked.
"I got up on stage." She stated nonchalantly.
"And did what?" He asked, not doing a good job of hiding the slight surprise in his voice. It made Layla smile.
"Knitted a sweater." She deadpanned. "Stripped. Gosh, I thought you were supposed to be the observant one." She teased.
"You were a stripper?" His eyebrows were raised slightly in question and he began to chew on his thumb, something she noticed he did when he was stressed or nervous.
"We prefer the term exotic dancer asshole." She quipped as she passed the bottle back to him. He leaned forward to accept it and eyed her in the silent way that only Daryl knew how to.
"Right…" He finally drawled out. He took a large gulp, nearly emptying the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"It was a onetime thing. I was a broke college student. The club was having an amateur night and you only had to strip down to your underwear. First prize got a thousand bucks. I signed up, did my song and dance, and that was it. End of the stripping career."
He was looking down between his legs now with his bent elbows resting on his knees and she had to strain to hear his question. "Did ya win?"
"No, some chick with tits as big as my head decided she wanted to go topless. Blew everyone else out of the competition."
She heard him snort as he continued to look down at the ground. "Got second place though. Five hundred dollars." She added proudly.
His head finally came up as he smirked. "Not bad…for an amateur." He drew out the last word and for some reason it made Layla shiver in response.
"Guess not. Not even my parents knew about that." She shared.
"It'll be our secret." He offered as he started ripping the label off the bottle. His words had an effect on her. She was sure it was arousal, but she knew that had to be wrong. Daryl was Daryl. He wasn't ever someone she'd considered looking at in that way, but now sitting in the dark with him alone in his cell had her second guessing herself. She observed him silently as he pulled at the paper wrapped around the glass bottle. She noticed he seemed to fidget a lot, which was odd considering he was a hunter. She knew in everyday life he always liked to be doing something with his hands. He couldn't stand to just sit or stand. He had to be keeping his hands busy. It intrigued her. She thought it was cute and a big contrast to the behavior he most likely exhibited when he was out hunting. She bet if he really wanted to he could stay still for hours.
Daryl's eyes drifted up and Layla quickly averted her gaze to her own lap. She could feel the heat radiating off her body and it gave her the urge to sleep in the nude tonight. She'd be way too hot to sleep in sweats. Her thoughts seeped into her observations only moments before and she was suddenly seeing flashes of Daryl and herself tangled in a mass of sheets. She felt embarrassment and then lust. The images had been planted and now they wouldn't stop manifesting. It was like a video on replay. All the things she'd noticed about Daryl were now turning her on. His rough and calloused hands on her body, his scruffy face trailing along the skin of her thighs, his teeth biting into her skin roughly, his husky voice whispering into her ear. It was all happening at once and Layla didn't know what to make of it, but she knew with the whiskey in her system she was most likely going to act on it.
She looked back up to Daryl and caught him staring at her. It took her by surprise. She wondered how long he'd been watching her. He seemed to be embarrassed about getting caught, but she could still see him making glimpses at her as he continued to remove the label from the liquor bottle.
"What're you thinking about?" She asked, surprising herself with her straightforward behavior.
"Nothin'." He quickly mumbled, not meeting her gaze.
"Liar." She teased. His eyes immediately snapped up to meet hers. "You're thinking about my story. That I stripped. I can tell." She couldn't know that for sure, but she had a pretty good guess that she was right. God…she hoped she was right. She was going somewhere with this.
"How?" He asked skeptically.
"I can feel your eyes on me." She pointed out. He fought hard not to look away, but he did anyway when she wouldn't. He went back to his previous task of tearing at the label.
"So?" He asked with indifference in his tone.
Layla smirked to herself and then moved so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed instead of against the wall. Her knees were nearly touching his and she could smell his signature aroma in the air. It was sweat and woods with a hint of cigarette. She could smell the whiskey too. It made a glorious mixture and one that could never be replicated.
She leaned forward, just enough to get in his space. Daryl immediately tensed and eyed her sharply. His hands stopped moving as he waited for her next move.
"On my lips…breasts…legs." She whispered lowly. She had thought she'd noticed him looking at her. She knew men. She knew when they tried to be discreet about their leering. She didn't picture Daryl as a guy who was obvious about it and he wasn't, but she supposed the alcohol had dulled his discreetness because she'd easily caught him.
In response, Daryl scoffed and leaned back against the chair, distancing himself from her. "You're drunk." He mumbled.
Layla shook her head and smiled. "Nuh-uh Dixon…" She watched as something in his eyes changed. He crossed his arms over his chest and she couldn't help but admire the tan muscle. His arms were quickly becoming an aphrodisiac for her. She let her eyes trail up to his broad shoulders, strong jaw line, and piercing blue eyes. He was all man. He was a wild man by nature, but had since been tamed. She yearned to pull the animal back out of him.
"Has anyone ever stripped for you before? Like a girlfriend?" She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. She could tell she was making him slightly uncomfortable, but she also knew the whiskey was in full effect. He was just fighting it.
"No." He answered simply, uncrossing his arms.
"Do you want me to?" She scooted further towards him, but he shook his head.
"Layla…don't…" He started, but she interrupted him as she stood up and placed herself between his legs.
"You wanna know what my stripper name was?" She asked suddenly. He was watching her with hooded eyes and she could sense his hesitation, but above that she knew he wanted this. He just needed a little bit of prodding.
"What?" He asked gruffly, acting as if he was playing along with her game, but she knew better. She smiled and leaned down as her hands rested on the buttons of his shirt. She felt him tense beneath her and she could hear the slightest acceleration of his breathing. It thrilled her. It made her literally drunk with lust to know that she had some sort of power over Daryl Dixon.
"Venus." She whispered back. He was trying hard to seem unaffected by her proximity to him and her touches, but she took notice. He was still leaned back against the chair and his legs were still thrown out in front of him in what she assumed was supposed to be a casual manner. His arms hung limply between his legs as the bottle dangled from his hand. It was a position that should've oozed casualness, but she could feel the electricity thrumming off of him. His senses may have been dulled by the booze, but now they were peaking at Layla's obvious display.
"Like the Greek Goddess or some shit?" He asked. Layla didn't bother questioning how he knew that. She'd learned a long time ago that the Dixon brothers were a lot smarter than most people gave them credit for.
"Like Venus flytraps." She corrected. She started lowering her body slowly, all the while keeping him locked in her gaze. "They're plants that lure in prey and trap them." She explained as she lowered herself enough so that she was even with his crotch. Her hands were resting on his thighs and she resisted the urge to run her nails along his inner legs to feel the strong muscle she knew would be there.
"Kinky." He quipped as he brought the bottle to his lips and finally drained its contents. He watched her as he rested the arm that was holding the bottle back between his legs. She smirked and felt a sudden tidal wave of arousal roar through her. She felt the throbbing between her legs and the moisture that would surely accompany it. She felt her nipples harden and her breasts push forward at an invisible force to cup them. An idea struck her and she smiled devilishly up at Daryl from her spot between his legs. She kept her eyes on him as she leaned forward and licked the rim of the bottle, wanting to taste him and the whiskey on her tongue.
He remained very still, but she swore she heard him let out a breathy curse at her actions. She pulled away and licked her lips seductively. She grabbed the bottle and set it down on the floor while Daryl kept his gaze on her, letting her do what she wanted. Layla leaned forward into his lap, pushing her heaving breasts into his clothed crotch. He shifted and went to push her away, but she pushed into him harder causing him to not hide the curse that left his mouth this time.
"Fuck…" He drew out as she moved her body at a slow and tortuous rate along his. She let him feel all of her as she moved to stand back up, making sure each part of her brushed against his dick. She could tell he was struggling. It had to have been just as long for him as it had been for her. Every nerve was hypersensitive now as she stood above him. She knew if he reached out and cupped her breast right now she just might climax from his touch.
She turned around and gradually lowered herself onto his lap. She moved her hips slowly over his now very distinct erection. He pushed into her and she moaned at the sensation. She let her head fall back onto his shoulder as she braced herself against his thighs. He was tense still, but she knew that probably had more to do with not exploding before they'd even started rather than nerves. She let herself fall into him as she grabbed his hands and slid them up to her heaving breasts. She kept his hands under hers as she demonstrated the way she liked to be touched. She moaned lowly, but it was cut off by a yelp when she felt his lips and then his teeth graze her neck unexpectedly. He pinched her nipple through her clothes and whispered huskily into her ear.
"Gotta be quiet." Layla only nodded as she continued to move and Daryl's hands kept their place on her breasts. She could feel herself losing control. She didn't want that. She wanted to control Daryl. She wanted to make him delirious with pleasure. She wanted to watch him come undone.
She moved away suddenly and she immediately felt the loss of his body and his heat. She turned around and was met with a puzzling look from Daryl and one she almost laughed at. She bit her lip and moved forward to stand between his legs again.
"Can I do something for you Daryl?" Layla asked huskily. Confusion laced his features, but he nodded in agreement anyway.
"I want us to be friends…" She moved her hands to the hem of her shirt and inched it up her stomach as she spoke. His eyes followed her movements closely and she felt her skin heat under his gaze. "Best friends." She added as she pulled her shirt over her head to reveal her purple bra underneath. It was a size too small and her breasts spilled over the cups. She watched with pure female pride as Daryl's eyes trained on her heaving breasts. She could feel the throbbing between her legs increase as he shifted on his chair. Her own eyes became drawn to his crotch as he readjusted his position, trying to make himself comfortable with his increasing arousal.
"Best friends, huh?" He breathed out. Layla smiled and nodded as she started unbuttoning her jeans. She turned around and pushed the denim down her hips and thighs slowly, wanting to torture the man sitting in the chair. She bent forward, letting her ass line up directly with Daryl's face. She pushed the legs of her jeans down and stepped out of them, having removed her shoes awhile ago. A rough hand glided across the skin of her ass and she moaned lowly at the action. Daryl's hands were rough and big and they felt delicious on her bare skin.
Layla stepped back and lowered herself back on to Daryl's lap. She slowly started to gyrate her hips against his, already loving the friction his pants caused against her skin. She could hear him groan in her ear as she skimmed over his crotch and then pushed back, feeling all of him behind the fabric. He was hard and Layla couldn't wait to get a peek.
She could feel him starting to buck his hips into hers as his fingertips dug into the flesh of her hips. She removed her ass from his lap and turned back around to face him. Without hesitation, she lowered herself to straddle him. Their lower bodies met and he immediately thrust his hips up into hers. The action caused Layla to bit back a moan and dig her nails into his shoulders. She leaned forward and grazed her lips and teeth along his neck and ear lobe.
"I wanna show you how good a friend I can be. Can I do that?" She teased as she bit his ear lightly. His hands glided over her ass and she felt them dig into her flesh as she rolled her hips.
"You can do whatever the fuck ya want." He quipped. His voice was lower and rougher, if at all possible. It made Layla wet as he spoke into her ear. She smirked at his words and bit his neck in response.
"Shit…" He blew out as she began to suck on the flesh of his throat. The thought of seeing Daryl with a hickey turned her on more than she cared to admit. Her fingers moved to the buttons on his shirt and she quickly undid them to reveal the taut and tan skin of his chest and abdomen. She leaned back and let her nails drag across his chest. He hissed at the action and she smirked in return. She pushed the fabric off his shirt off his shoulders and he helped so that it now lay on the floor of his cell. The need to feel his bare flesh against her own became overwhelming and she hastily unclipped her bra and let it fall from her shoulders.
Daryl's mouth was like a moth to a flame and he immediately latched onto her breasts. His tongue lavished at her nipples while his teeth grazed over her flesh. She moaned as she let her fingers grip his hair in pleasure. She bit her lip and screwed her eyes shut at the sensations coursing through her body. His tongue and teeth nipped deliciously at her skin and it sent a jolt straight to her core. She could feel Daryl throbbing beneath her and she pushed down as his lips moved up her neck and to her mouth. The kiss was all consuming. Their tongues didn't hesitate to dart out and tangle with each other. There was nothing gentle or timid about his movements. He seemed to know exactly what he wanted and he wanted to devour her.
They both pulled back when air became an issue and his hands immediately started to venture south and under the waistband of her underwear. Layla quickly stopped his movements and pulled away. She lifted herself off his lap and ignored his irritated gaze as she lowered herself back to her knees in front of him. He got the message and visibly relaxed as she bit her lip and began undoing his pants. He aided her movements by lifting his hips up and allowing her to lower his pants to the floor. He wasn't wearing any underwear, but Layla wasn't the least bit surprised.
She took a moment to study him. He was breathing heavy and she watched in amazement as his chest and abs rose and fell with every breath. He was naked to her hungry eyes and she was impressed. Daryl was a man she most likely would've passed right by in the old world, but in light of recent shitty events, he was the catch of the day. He was strong and resourceful; a man who knew how to protect and survive. Having a degree didn't impress anyone anymore.
Layla reached her hand forward and grasped his hot, hard flesh in her grasp. She was gentle with her touch as he bucked into her hand. She could see he was trying hard to keep his eyes open and on her as she increased the pressure and speed of her hand on his dick. His eyes screwed shut as her other hand gently scraped his balls and she immediately halted her movements, her hands still grasping him.
"Daryl…" She called softly. She could see his eyes open and settle on hers as he waited for her to continue. "I want you to watch me." She cooed as she moved her mouth closer to his twitching cock, keeping eye contact the whole way. She let her breath and lips dance lightly over his overheated skin and she could see out of her peripheral vision that his hands were gripping the sides of the chair tightly, nearly white knuckled with tension.
"Hold my hair, will ya?" Layla questioned and waited as his hands released the chair from his grip and made their way into her long, dark tresses. Without wasting another moment, she hungrily took him into her mouth. He immediately jumped and she loosened her throat muscles to accommodate him. Her hands and mouth worked in tandem as she brought him closer and closer to the end point. The grip he had on her hair tightened as she took him all the way in her throat and rough curses filled the cell. She pulled away and met Daryl's lust-filled gaze as she licked his member from bottom to tip, tasting the white liquid that had started to collect there.
"Fuck!" He whispered harshly as he bucked into her tongue. Layla smiled, a burst of pride pushing through at being able to get Daryl Dixon as uninhibited as he was right now. It made her thighs clench in arousal that she was the reason he was this turned on. It was a forgotten feeling and one she relished in upon its return.
She'd continued to assault him with her tongue, alternating between slow and fast paces, when his hands pulled her up roughly.
"Ain't gonna come in your mouth." His words caught her off guard and made a wave of lust wash through her and settle between her legs.
"Where then, Dixon?" She asked as she rubbed her still panty clad sex on his cock. They both moaned at the contact. Only a thin piece of fabric separated them and Layla could tell they were both becoming increasingly impatient.
"I wanna have a taste first." He mumbled as he stood, bringing Layla with him and walking her backwards towards the bed. She stopped once her legs and back made contact with the bunk beds and Daryl instantly trapped her in with his arms.
Layla knew what he'd been referring to and she'd felt a literal shiver run through her at his request. Not many men, as she recalled, were very good or even liked to perform oral, but she'd bet her life that Daryl Dixon was neither type of man. She felt goose bumps pepper her skin as their naked chests met and Daryl's lips hungrily sucked at her neck. She gripped his shoulders and dug her nails into his skin as his teeth joined his lips on her skin. He was taller than her and she could feel him rubbing against her stomach. She couldn't help herself and immediately latched a hand onto his throbbing cock. He growled and pushed into her hand as his hands moved from their place by her head and grasped at her heaving breasts. Layla moaned as his fingers pinched and kneaded her chest, creating a delicious pattern of pain and pleasure. A hand ventured lower and this time she didn't stop him as he dipped his fingers into her underwear.
"Goddamn, you're so fucking wet." Layla bit her lip harshly and gasped at the beautiful intrusion. The combination of his words and fingers had her inner walls fluttering slightly and she knew she wouldn't be able to last.
"Daryl…" She croaked out as she abandoned her task of jacking him off and immediately dug her nails into his sides. "Don't…I can't…" She couldn't form words. Her brain was only focused on the pleasure she was currently experiencing and she couldn't say the words to get him to stop. Instead, she latched onto his wrist and stopped his movements inside her.
"I can't last." She breathed out as she met his eyes and struggled to catch her breath. He grunted his acknowledgment of her statement, but his fingers still managed to move inside of her, causing Layla to grit her teeth in pleasure.
"Figured…I can feel ya twitchin'." He noted and hesitantly pulled his hand from her underwear. He stepped back, gazing at her from top to bottom. Layla felt heat in the wake of his stare as he motioned to the bed behind her. She didn't argue, her legs felt like they were about to give out anyway. She ducked and lay back across the bed as her elbows propped her up. Daryl wrapped a hand around his cock and made his way toward her. She could see he was squeezing himself, fighting off his impending orgasm. The action had the opposite effect on her and made her squeeze her thighs together in anticipation. He noticed the action and licked his lips hungrily.
"You have to stop that." Layla whined as her body pleaded for a release. He smirked, but released himself and bent down so he was level with her lower body. His hands went to her underwear and she mirrored his earlier actions as she lifted her hips and allowed the fabric to be removed from her body.
"I'm gonna keep these." Daryl mumbled huskily and threw the piece of clothing near his discarded pants. Layla bit her lip and nodded, too far gone to even care if they were only one of a few pair. He wasted no time and greedily licked, sucked, and nipped at her arousal. She tried to stay on her elbows so she could see him, but her arms turned to jelly and she fell onto her back. The moans and whimpers were becoming increasingly harder to muffle and stifle. Daryl's mouth feasted on her as if his life depended on it and she was reaping all the benefits. She let her hands tangle in his mass of dark hair as he sucked on her bundle of nerves. She pulled his hair to keep from crying out, but a strangled moan still penetrated the evening air.
She could feel herself getting ready to release and she both wanted it and didn't. She didn't want the feeling to end. She didn't want Daryl to ever stop. His tongue made a flickering motion inside her and she locked her legs around his head as tingles shot up her body. It was going to happen and she quickly made a decision as she pushed him away with her foot.
"What's the matter?" He asked with an even thicker drawl than normal. Layla shook her head, signaling to him she was fine.
"I-I want to feel you inside me. I don't want it to end this way." She explained breathily. A hand came up to wipe at his mouth as he studied her in silence.
"Can get ya there more than once." He pointed out roughly. He made a move to grab at her hips and continue, but she pulled away and brought her knees together.
"No, Daryl I…I haven't slept with anyone in awhile." She stopped, waiting for him to catch her drift. He only stared at her, not getting the meaning behind her words. "I don't think my body will be up for more than one round tonight." She explained.
His eyes triggered recognition and he gave a slight nod as he stood up to his full height. He licked his lips and made a move towards her, but stopped and turned back towards his pile of clothes instead.
"What're you doing?" Layla whispered as he dug around in different shirts and pants. He said nothing, only turned back around as held something in his hand. She couldn't quite make out what the item was, but as soon as the moon light caught the foil packet, she knew. A condom. A very welcome sight. She released a breath and huffed out a laugh as he made his way back over to her.
"Let me." She insisted seductively as she took the packet from his fingers and tore it open. She sat up and waited as he walked in between her legs so she was level with his dick. She grasped him with one hand and rolled the condom on with the other.
"Shit…" He drawled as his head fell back and his eyes closed in arousal. Layla smirked and leaned forward to place a kiss near his belly button. The action caused him to look down and meet her eyes.
"How'd you want me?" She purred softly. His cock twitched at her words as she waited for his answer.
"On your back." He ordered. Layla moved her body so that she lay at the head of the bed and watched as Daryl followed her, laying his body over hers. The heat coming off of him was scorching and it felt amazing. Their lips met in a series of hungry kisses as tongues and teeth clashed. She could taste herself on him and the thought of what he'd been doing with his mouth only moments ago made her moan. She felt him against her thigh and she arched into his body to make contact. His hand immediately came down forcefully on her hip to stop her movements.
"Ya fuckin' impatient, aren't ya?" He grumbled as his teeth bit down on one of her nipples. The pain melted into pleasure and had her whimper turning into a moan.
"I've been forced into celibacy for the last two years, so yeah Dixon…I'm a little fucking impatient." Layla bit back as she pushed up again. A deep chuckle flew from his lips as his hand moved from her hip to grasp himself and line up with her entrance. Layla's legs immediately locked around his waist; drawing him closer to the place she wanted him the most.
"Ya ready?" He asked softly. The question and tone caught her off guard, but she locked eyes with him and nodded. He entered slowly and Layla held her breath as he filled her up. "Fuck…ya feel good." He breathed out as he held himself still. "Ya alright?" He asked. Layla nodded as the discomfort started to disappear and the lust came back to the forefront of her brain. She could feel him struggling not to move, throbbing inside her. She unintentionally clenched herself around him and his head immediately fell to her shoulder.
"Damn…don't do that. It'll be over 'fore we even start." He chastised roughly. Layla ignored him and wriggled below him.
"Move." She whispered breathily. His body did as she demanded and he pulled out slowly and back in again. Her hands grasped at his back, ignoring the scars she knew to be there, as he continued to thrust at a torturous rate.
"Faster, harder, something." She mumbled nearly incoherently as she thrust her hips up to his. It felt so good. Almost too good. Her brain was having trouble processing all the pleasure and she didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry. It was nearly overwhelming, but she definitely did not want it to stop.
Daryl said nothing in response to her words, but she felt him thrust into her much harder than he had been. The force of his hips against hers made her eyes squeeze shut and she never wanted to be louder than she did at that moment. Moans and whimpers died on her lips as he seated himself deeply inside her, filling her up completely.
"Again." She demanded breathlessly and he complied silently. Another rough thrust of his hips had her biting her lip and digging her nails into the flesh of his back. His mouth was back on her breasts and he seemed to quickly figure out what kind of mood she was in because he started sucking on her nipple with as much fervor as a newborn. The roughness of his hips and mouth brought the tingling sensation back and she could feel herself sporadically clenching around him. She didn't have to ask him again to move his hips and on the third deep thrust she came with an intensity she hadn't known existed.
Layla didn't stop the moans that flooded past her lips and instead let her body ride out wave after wave of pleasure that washed over her. Her body arched at a nearly impossible angle as she kept Daryl locked inside her legs. She held onto him, not caring if she was breaking the skin, as white noise filled her ears. She could vaguely hear him mumbling what sounded like curses, but his voice was drowned out by her own moans and the fogginess that lingered. Her body rolled with spasms that felt like electric shocks until her limbs relaxed and her mind started to clear. Daryl had been still, allowing her to cling to him as she experienced the greatest orgasm of her goddamn life. Layla's vision adjusted as he looked down at her with a smirk and shifted his body over hers.
"Ya alright?" He scoffed down at her as she fought to calm her racing heart and lungs. She nodded, not trusting her voice. "Can I get mine or did I kill ya?" He asked with humor that Layla wasn't accustomed to hearing from Daryl. She laughed breathlessly and smoothed her hands along his biceps.
"Gonna take more than that to kill me." She quipped and he smirked in response. He pulled out of her and Layla felt the loss immediately. She stared at him questioningly as he shifted off the bed.
"Switch positions."He gruffly ordered. She didn't hesitate. Layla moved so Daryl could lie back on the bed and she could straddle his waist. She bit her lip as she situated herself above him. She didn't immediately take him inside her and instead positioned herself just below his hardness so he'd be able to see what she was doing.
Layla's body still felt boneless, but at seeing Daryl so hard she was beginning to get a second wind. She grasped him in her hand and moved her palm slowly over him. His breathing picked up and his hands tightened on her thighs. She shifted slightly and allowed him to rub against her opening. She rotated her hips above him so that he was coated with her juices even more. His tip hit a particularly sensitive spot and she whimpered and pulled away.
"Ya hurt?" He asked lowly. Layla could tell it was taking all of him to force the words out, but she continued to rub her hand over him as she shook her head in response.
"Sensitive." She replied and he grunted in acknowledgment. She bent over him, letting her hair form a curtain around them and let her tongue dart out to lick around his pressed lips.
"Relax." She softly commanded. His eyes, dark with hunger, opened and she felt his body loosen up slightly. She smiled and moved down his body, licking and biting at the hard planes of his chest and stomach. Her nails dragged along his abdomen and he bucked his hips and hissed in response. She met his eyes as she sat up and aligned himself with her opening.
"Ready?" She asked with an arch of her eyebrow. His hands dug into her thighs and ass as she teased him.
"Fuck yes!" He cursed and Layla took that as her cue. She sunk herself onto him, savoring the feel of him inside her again. She could tell her body was still sensitive from her previous orgasm, but she pushed ahead and encased him fully inside her.
She was rewarded with a low groan as she slowly started to move her hips. She kept him inside her as she rode him unhurriedly. His jaw was clenched tight and his stomach muscles were tensed as she placed her hands on his chest. His own hands were now fully on her ass, aiding her movements. She leaned forward again and attached her lips to his neck. She could feel his hips thrusting up to meet hers and soon after his arm wrapped around her, trapping her against his body, as he began pounding into her. Layla gave out a startled yelp at the change of pace and fisted her hands in his hair.
The only sound was their bodies slapping together and Layla could feel her body protesting the oncoming climax. She still felt too sensitive, but she ignored it and focused on Daryl. She clenched her muscles around him and he groaned into her shoulder as his pace increased.
"Shit, I'm gonna come." He breathed out as his grip on Layla tightened. She bit his ear lobe and not a second later she felt his entire body seize up beneath her. His grip was hard as he thrust and emptied himself into the latex inside her. At feeling Daryl's release, Layla had another small orgasm and attached her lips to his to swallow the moans. She could feel her heart beating wildly against her chest as both she and Daryl loosened their grips on each other and came down from their highs.
She felt utterly lethargic as she laid her head on his chest and listened to his own heart rate struggle to slow. She could feel him soften inside her and she found herself already missing him filling her. She was dick whipped for sure now.
"Holy shit…" She breathed out. "I think I'm gonna be sore for awhile." She added as she laughed and met his eyes. They were hooded with exhaustion, but he smirked and slapped her ass.
"Me too. Not as young as I used to be." He grumbled as they repositioned themselves so that she lay next to him. She could feel her eyes becoming heavy and she knew if she didn't move Daryl would end up with a bed buddy for the night.
"I better get back down to my cell." She went to crawl out of the tiny bunk when his hand and voice stopped her.
"Just stay…I'll wake ya 'fore anyone notices." Layla smiled appreciatively and made herself comfortable among the blanket and pillows. She closed her eyes, but she felt the bed move with shifted weight. She opened them to see Daryl taking off the condom and rifling through discarded clothes.
"What're you doing?" She asked lazily. He didn't turn around, but found his pants and set about putting them on.
"Gotta get rid of this…" He held up the used condom in one hand as he got his pants up with the other. "And gonna do a quick walk around." He finished as he threw on his shirt and shoved his bare feet into his boots. Layla nodded sleepily, not really caring where he was going.
"Get some sleep. I'll be by later." He stated as he moved towards the curtain covering the cell opening.
"Daryl…" She called out softly. He stopped and turned as he waited for her to say something. "Are we best friends now?"
Now that the adrenaline of arousal was gone, the combination of booze and exhaustion hit her like a brick wall. She knew she sounded silly. And she knew Daryl would probably growl something at her or ignore her, but she wanted to know if her plan had worked. Were they closer now? Or were they going to act as if nothing ever happened?
She could see him hesitate slightly before a small smirk graced his lips and words flowed past them. "The best." He affirmed and left her in his bed. Layla smiled and felt sleep take her.
It was nearly a week after Layla and Daryl had slept together. She'd been afraid of the fallout from their drunken tryst, but there hadn't been any. They hadn't talked about it, both wanting to keep it a secret, but their dynamic had changed slightly. It was…pleasant. They were friends now…better friends. There wasn't any more trepidation or nerves when they spoke with each other. There was a level of comfort that hadn't been there before and it was refreshing. Others took notice of their altered relationship, but no one commented on it. Layla was thankful for that.
She'd been taking inventory of their food supply when Daryl approached her. It wasn't an usual occurrence, but it was a welcome one. Layla smiled in acknowledgment, but kept going about her task.
"Hey." He greeted somewhat shyly. Layla noticed, but didn't call him out on it.
"Hey you." She threw back, hoping to ease his sudden shyness. She was checking cans on the table laid out before her when his voice caught her attention.
"Got somethin' for ya."
Layla stopped what she was doing and smiled as she moved from around the table to meet him on the other side. "Something for me?" She asked excitedly. She brushed her hands off on her jeans and immediately held them out in front of her. "Gimme gimme…" She beamed.
"Ya always this impatient?" He asked gruffly as he started to pull something from his pants pocket. Layla laughed and bit her lip.
"I've been told that a time or two. Just last week in fact." She made it a point to lock eyes with him when she said that and was rewarded with a scoff and a faint blush appearing on his neck.
"Here." He held something out to her and she opened her palm to catch her surprise gift. Layla looked down and noticed it was two bracelets made out of leather binding and beads. They looked like those homemade bracelets kids used to make. Layla turned the multicolored bracelets over and could see that there were lettered beads that spelled out a word on each. 'Best' was on one and the other read 'Friends'.
Layla smiled widely and laughed as she clutched the bracelets in her hand. "You got these for me?" She asked through laughter. Daryl only shrugged in response.
"Was nothin'. Saw 'em on a run." He explained as casually as he could, though Layla could tell he was still nervous about presenting her with a gift.
"Their great Daryl. I love them." She affirmed. He nodded and went to walk away, but she caught his arm to stop him.
"This one's for you." She shoved one of the bracelets into his hand. He looked down at it puzzled, but then smirked as he noted which one she'd given him. 'Best' it read in block lettering.
"We're BFF's now." She stated proudly as she placed hers in her jean pocket. He scoffed and mirrored her actions as he shoved his own into his pocket.
"Uh-huh..." She heard him say as he made his way back out into the prison yard. Yep, she and Daryl Dixon were the best "fucking" friends.