You shuffled your boots in the dried leaves and it made a satisfying noise. Daryl glanced over at you with one eyebrow raised. The two of you were taking a well-deserved rest after tracking a deer. You grinned at him briefly and then glanced up toward the glowing yellow canopy above you. You sighed, smiling contentedly.
"Sometimes I wish—"
Daryl chuckled and shook his head before you could even get the whole thought out. "Here we go..." he drawled, lifting his canteen to his lips. You nudged him with your shoulder and he gave you a sly smile.
"Sometimes I wish I was a plant," you said, picking up a particularly bright yellow leaf.
Daryl cocked an eyebrow at you. "Christ, me too. At least then you'd be quiet sometimes."
"Ass!" you retorted, trying to hit him playfully but he leaned away, laughing.
"Nah, but really. Why d'ya wanna be a plant? Tell me what's goin' on in that damn head of yers."
"Because they eat light. And I think that's magical. I want to be a Light Eater."
Daryl was staring at you and you finally glanced down again from the trees overhead and caught the soft look on his face. You felt your cheeks and ears grow hot and gave him a sheepish smile. "I dunno," he drawled, ducking his head and grabbing the lone red leaf that had drifted down in front of the two of you. He held it out, an offering. A little token you'd keep. "Yer pretty magical the way ya are."
Prompt: None. My brain.
A/N: I'll take Shit I'd Actually Say (or Maybe Have Said) for 1000, Alex.
Daryl's the kinda guy to have a small table in the living room that has the puzzle he's been slowly working on for practically months set out on it – he delicately moves it in front of the couch then sits and silently works on it some evenings, expect for little grunts of understanding when he finally figures out a certain section he was stumped on.
He gets so flustered when you come over to look, standing beside the couch and rubbing his shoulder for a little bit while admiring his work, and he so shyly says a thanks, sheepishly reaching for the next piece while you watch for a little.
He likes to go do it some nights where he can't sleep and feels like he's gonna disturb you by just lying awake next to you in bed, usually when he's having a harder time emotionally – this gives him something to do rather than sulk, even though the thoughts still do get to him while he's working on it sometimes.
Oh god and once he probably went to do that, but Dog came over and had a bit too much energy and knocked the table just enough for everything to slide off and crumble to the floor, ruined.
He just sat there for a moment, looking at the 3d triangular shape his nearly finished puzzle landed in. He didn't even sigh in defeat; he just got up and trekked his way back to your bedroom, gently waking you up by crawling into your arms.
And he buried his head into your neck, breathing you in uneasily and trying to steady himself. But as you rubbed his back and scratched his scalp, asking him what's wrong, he couldn't help but cry a little cause he already felt so negative and now felt sort of crushed, the time and effort he put into that for nothing. It makes him feel stupid; like why is he crying over a damn puzzle? He's a grown man, in a fucking apocalypse. He doesn't have time to cry over something so childish, let alone be doing a puzzle in the first place.
But your soothing helped to wash away his self loathing, tenderly reminding him it's okay to be upset about those kinda things: that it may be small in the perspective of the world, but it meant something to him. He put his time and his effort into it, and that's what made it something big.
That made him cry harder, your confirmation that it's okay to cry, getting that allowance to. His father surely banned crying, even over major things like his moms death, telling him there's no reason for a man to ever cry – and every time he'd beat him he would repeatedly demand he stop crying, until he eventually did: and the only times he ever cried were when he'd escape to be deep in the forest, sit alone and let his walls down for a little before having to put them all back up and face his homelife again, and shamed himself for doing such in the first place.
You're what finally let him express his love for the little things, and express how he felt when bad things happen with said little things.
He definitely didn't have many toys growing up, so he turned to things like puzzles – secretly doing them in his room late at night then shoving them under his bed when he wasn't working on it cause he knew Merle or his dad would make fun of him for it or destroy it – so doing puzzles now heals his inner child, and it getting knocked over hurt him even more cause it brought him back to those memories.
This was not meant to get sad but now I'm tearyeyed at 4:30 am while writing this. He's just tryna mend the kid his childhood broke :(
Summary: Since arriving in Alexandria, everyone is trying to adjust. One morning, when you come home from a hunt before dawn, you accidentally overhear your best friend and housemate, Daryl, indulging himself. What happens when you discover his favorite fantasy is... you?
Warnings: smut (minors, DNI!), mentions of typical TWD gore and violence, innocent & inexperienced Daryl, unprotected sex, past hurt/trauma, size difference kink.
[angst, romance, SMUT.] Daryl is soffftttt, sexy, and adorable. This is the chapter where things finally get... graphic.👀
Word Count: 3.7k (I got a little carried away OK)
Chapter 1: here
Chapter 2: here
---
Upon approaching the house, you and Daryl both slow your steps. We can't get ahead of ourselves. Your hearts are pounding in you chest, cheeks flushed in the darkness. You hadn't said word to each other since your suggestion to come back to the house, both silently swimming in your own surreal thoughts.
Your eyes scan the house for signs of movement. Although it had only been 30 minutes or so after Daryl's admittedly-dramatic exit from dinner, it seems that Rick and Carl had already cleaned up. The windows of the first floor are dark. On the second floor, where Rick's room is, you can see a figure through the closed curtain milling about. The light in Carl's attic space also appears to be on.
"Gotta be quiet," you whisper to Daryl, who has been assessing the house as well.
Wordlessly, the two of you creep up to the front door. Your mind is spinning; it's a funny feeling, sneaking around like horny teenagers trying to avoid their parents. It's surreal. You realize that you never thought life could be this simple again.
You watch as Daryl silently twists the handle and pushes the door open. Tiptoeing, literally, you follow Daryl's figure through the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement. You send a silent prayer that that one creaky step won't betray you again. Your eyes, now deprived of the moonlight, falter, and you nearly lose your step in the darkness. Luckily, Daryl's strong back in there to catch you.
"You okay?" he asks in an almost impossibly quiet voice. You nod and give him a shy smile.
So odd, you think to yourself. You can't even remember a time when Daryl made you feel shy, and now, here you were, acting like he's your high school crush.
Intoxicating.
Once the door to Daryl's bedroom is closed, and you're safely inside, you hear Daryl sigh a breath of relief. He slowly turns to you, as if unsure what to do now. His brown hair is a gorgeous mess, falling into his face. His feet shuffling a nervous dance -- fuck. He's so damn irresistible.
You make the first move, closing the gap between you with haste. Your hands rise to cup his face. His cheeks are burning, despite the chilly night air you'd just come in from. His large, work-worn hands waste no time coming up to hold to your waist. With every movement, your inhibitions seem to float further and further away.
When he dips his head to press his warm lips into yours, he tastes like moonlight, strawberry, and faint tobacco. You feel lightheaded from the realization that this is really happening. From the way Daryl's chest is pounding against yours, you know his head is spinning, too.
Your hands wander upward, gripping hungrily at the hair at the base of his neck. With that, he lets out that same soft, uncontrollable whimper. He pulls back in surprise at his own abandon, and you smile at him with amusement.
"Shut up, " he retorts with a tiny smile before rejoining his lips with yours, harsher this time.
You giggle, careful not to raise your voice above a whisper, as Daryl walks you backwards towards the bed.
Daryl's space is plain. It's just his bed, a shamble of blankets and a crumpled pillow, and his crossbow leaning up against the corner of the room. It's so perfectly... him.
He lightly pushes you onto the bed, and for a moment, he just gazes down at you through his disheveled hair. His dark eyes are blown wide with lust, and suddenly you realize how much larger he is than you. Tall, broad, and covered in beautiful lean muscle. Of course, you always knew the man was a force to be reckoned with, but now, with him towering over you like this... You think about how easily he could take you. How easy he could have taken what he wanted all this time, instead settling for pumping himself into his fist. Arousal pulls at your belly with the thought.
Of course, though, you knew it wouldn't have been easy. Physically, maybe, yes. But you knew Daryl's insecurities would have never let him make a move unless he was deadly certain you felt the same. Maybe others would see that as a short coming, but for you, it was just one of the many reasons why you adored Daryl. There was something so soft in him, under that steely exterior. A wave of gratitude washes over you, that you're here now, witnessing this side of him.
Daryl lowers himself down on the bed over you, leaning you onto your back. He takes care not to put all his weight on you. His lips collide with yours again as you wrap your legs around his waist. You can't help but groan when you feel his erection through his pants, pushing against your core where you need his most. A shaky breath escapes his lips as well.
You grip at the fabric of his shirt as he starts experimentally rutting forward, rubbing his hardness against you. It's as if your bodies are moving on their own, beyond desperate for some kind of relief. It had been so long for you; you hadn't touched someone like this since before the world went to shit. You need Daryl.
Suddenly, Daryl's movements slow. He removes his lips from yours, leaving the two of you quietly panting in the darkness. Worry sets in.
"What's wrong?" you whisper, trying to make out the expression on his face. "Are you OK?"
At first he doesn't reply; in fact, he's not even looking at you. Did I do something wrong? You desperately need him to speak. Finally, after a long pause of silence, he starts to move himself off of you, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.
Shit. This was a mistake. I knew it. A million thoughts are scrambling through your brain as you hurriedly come to sit beside him, the edge of the mattress dipping under your combined weight.
"[Y/N]," Daryl finally says. His voice sounds small and far, far away.
"What is it? If you changed your mind, it's --"
"No, no," he cuts you off with a swift shake of his head. "I want to."
You're confused now. This is the Daryl you hated seeing. The quiet, pained, ashamed Daryl. You bring your hand slowly to his cheek and turn his head to face you.
"Tell me."
His eyes finally meet yours, and your heart shatters at the hurt in his brown irises.
"I want you. But what if I can't... make you feel good?"
You furrow your eyebrows, shaking your head lightly. No.
"I'm no virgin," he blurts out when you don't reply. Daryl straightens his posture a bit, clearing his throat and gathering his courage. "But... it's been a long time. I mean, even 'fore shit hit the fan, before that. And I ain't never done it like this."
"Like this?" you ask gently, wanting to fully understand his anxieties.
"Sober. In a bed instead 'a on some couch in some tweaker's apartment. With someone I actually care 'bout."
The last part comes out softly, as if the words physically stung to say aloud. Your heart swells with thankfulness for his confession and trust in you. The honesty. For the man before you, laying himself bare in the most intimate way possible.
You kiss him. It's soft, and nothing in the world has ever felt more right.
"If you want this, then I want this. And I don't care if I don't come, if that's what you're worried about. I just want you."
Daryl seems to physically melt at your gentle words. The tension in his muscles eases, and the ever-so-slight quivering in his bottom lip fades. A touch of confidence seems to return to his expression, and you beam with happiness when his hand wraps around your waist once more.
"Tell me to stop. And I'll stop. Don't matter when," Daryl breathes out, swiftly moving back over you. Your breath hitches in your throat, both from surprise and arousal, as you're pushed back down into the bed.
You swallow his kisses, which quickly become more and more heated. You graze your teeth against his bottom lip, eliciting a deep moan from the back of his throat. Soon, your hands are at his hips, frantically unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans.
The whimper -- that fucking whimper -- that escapes his lips when your hand accidentally brushes against his underwear-clad member has you in shambles. You're certain that your panties are completely, utterly ruined. Daryl stands up for a brief moment to slide his jeans off. The tent in his boxers look painful, straining. So, you lean forward and hook your fingers into the waistband.
"Can I?" you ask, meeting his wide eyes with yours. You'd never seen him nod so quickly.
When his erection springs free, you groan at the sight. He's huge: long and thick and as hard as a rock. His cock is beautiful, perfectly shaped with a slight curve upward. The head is shiny with slick, and a bead of precum is sliding -- so erotically -- down the shaft.
Something feral takes over you as you dip your head down without another word. A too-loud gasp rips from Daryl's lips, as you lick a thick, wet stripe up his cock. You hope that the two floors of distance between you and Rick was enough to stifle the sound. Daryl quickly brings his arm up to his mouth, biting down on the back of his wrist to keep quiet. His head tips back in pure ecstasy. You wonder if anyone has ever done this for him before.
After another firm lick, you take him into your mouth. The salty precum coats your tongue, making you moan quietly. The vibration of your moan elicits another gasp from the man above you. Daryl's free hand swiftly comes down to palm your scalp, fingers grasping desperately at your hair. You relish in the feeling of being able to make him come apart like this. You bob your head once, twice --
"Fuck, [Y/N]," Daryl frantically chokes out, both of his hands coming to grip your shoulders. "You gotta stop, or I'm gonna be finished righ' now."
You remove your mouth from his member, wiping a bit of droll that had spilled past your lips. You're about to make some quick-witted jest about how you've barely touched even him yet, but you're just as ruined as him. Years now, without being intimate with another human, has left you both oversensitive and frantic.
You pull your shirt and sports bra up and over your head, letting the clothing drop to the ground. Daryl's discarded his own shirt, and is on you before you can process it; his large, calloused hands roam your body like a wild animal.
"So damn gorgeous," he breathes out roughly, pushing you down into the bed and peppering your soft neck with kisses and nibbles. "Wan' make you mine so badly." Your hands roam over him, feeling his innumerable scars -- old and new -- underneath your fingertips. You grab at his shoulder muscles, trying to ground yourself.
But it's too fucking late. You're already lost to the sensation of his bare chest on yours, his mouth working hungrily at your skin, the clean, pine-like scent of him... You're a goner.
Daryl's head travels lower to your breasts, making you gasp out quietly. Your eyes fall shut as his mouth and hands explore your left breast, then the right. The valley in between them, and then finally, his lips close around your nipple. Your back arches off the bed as you writhe beneath him.
"Daryl," you moan out. "That feels so good."
He continues to pleasure you, alternating between your nipples. His lips and tongue work in tandem until your legs are shaking. After taking his time on your breasts, Daryl comes back up to your face, planting gentle kisses on your lips. His care and attention to detail make you feel weak. How long has he imagined doing this?
When Daryl's hands begin to roam lower, tracing the edge of your pants, you waste no time unbuttoning them and pushing them off your legs. Your panties are soaked, and when you remove them next, the air is cool on your wetness. When you peer up at Daryl's face, he's staring down in awe. The shininess of your arousal coating your pussy and inner thighs makes him suck in a sharp breath through his teeth. The way his eyes are trained on your wetness gives him the appearance of a wolf in heat. So focused, so lustful.
What he does next makes your heart beat even harder. Daryl, the huge, rough man who would never kneel for anybody, sinks to his knees on the hard floor. He pulls you to the edge of the bed until is face is face inches from your throbbing pussy. He's so close that you can feel his breath on your core, teasing. Slowly, timidly, Daryl brings his middle finger to the dripping entrance of your pussy. The feather-light touch makes you bite you bottom lip.
“Can I taste you?” His voice is so soft, almost pleading.
“Please, Daryl,” you reply breathlessly. “Taste me.”
Carefully, he dips his head to your cunt. Painfully slow, he licks at your slit. He can't help the moan that escapes when your juices coat his tongue. When Daryl's tongue finds your clit, an involuntary "fuck" slips from you. He feels so damn good.
"Shit. Even better than I thought you'd taste."
"More. Faster," you beg.
Daryl instantly complies. He continues to swirls his tongue around your sensitive bud before experimenting with his lips. He gently sucks on your clit, making you see stars. Delicately, he slides his middle finger -- which had been teasing at your entrance -- into your pussy. One knuckle... two knuckles. You feel yourself clench around his finger. When he adds his index finger as well, you cry out with pleasure.
"Daryl! Fuck."
"That feel alright?" he asks, pausing and meeting your eyes.
"Yes, fuck... So good," is all you can manage to reply. You hadn't had anything besides your thin fingers in your pussy in what felt like a lifetime, and you're unimaginably tight. Daryl's digits opening you up and stretching against your walls is ecstasy. You shiver at the anticipation of what his cock will feel like.
"Tell me what feels best," comes Daryl's voice again. So sweet, so needy.
"When you swirl your tongue... do that again. And keep fingering me," you reply, pleasure clouding your mind. "Please."
Daryl follows your instructions without a word. And fuck. He catches on quick. As his mouth works your clit, he begins to curl his fingers upwards inside you. When his fingertips push against your g-spot, you gasp out and shiver. Your knees threaten to clamp together, but Daryl's free hand holds your legs apart.
You're in heaven.
As you feel the knot of pleasure in your stomach start to grow, you frantically grip at Daryl's shoulder.
"Come here. I need you," you gasp out, clawing at him. "I need you inside me, Daryl."
As he rises from the floor, you shuffle backwards on the bed a bit so you're not so close to the edge. His cock is covered in precum again, leaking streams of the clear liquid. As Daryl climbs on the bed, you take the moment to admire his beautiful physique: tanned skin over hard muscle, shoulders and arms that can lift you with ease... The best part though is his face. His dark eyes half-lidded with overpowering arousal, lips covered in your juices. He looks like an angel.
He lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock through your drenched folds. Daryl's gorgeous mouth is hung open in awe.
"Do you still want this?"
"Yes, yes, Daryl." The words come tumbling from your mouth. "I want you so badly. Fuck me."
That's all the encouragement that Daryl needs. He begins to push into you, so painfully slowly. You grip his hips in a vice, needing something to steady yourself. His forearms frame your head, surrounding you in his scent. The feeling is indescribable; Daryl's cock is so big, and so desperately hard. He slides in easily with your combined juices, yet he moves at a snail's pace, not wanting to hurt you. A litany of curses fall from his lips.
When he's about half-way into your pussy, Daryl pulls back. When he thrusts forward again, it's faster. You cry out in pleasure, attempting to muffle your voice against his bicep.
"I'm not gonn' last long," Daryl admits, his light southern drawl dancing on the shell of your ear. "Fuck. I've wanted this for so long, [Y/N]. You have no idea."
"Go slow," you whisper to him, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes from ecstasy and pain. "It's okay."
Daryl continues his controlled thrusts, venturing deeper and deeper into you until your pelvises meet. The burn you had initially felt is replaced only with pleasure. You moan out his name as he fills you over and over again.
"[Y/N], oh. Fuck," Daryl growls, face buried into the crook of your neck.
You can feel every groove and vein on his cock as it pistons in and out. You shut your eyes, stars filling your vision. All you know is this very moment: the feeling of Daryl inside you, his mouth sucking and kissing desperately at your neck, the heat radiating off of him. You think back to what he had confessed earlier, and wonder if, maybe, you've never had it quite like this either. Bliss fills you, growing.
Soon, Daryl's movements start to lose their controlled nature. He trusts in harder, more sloppily -- his need starts to take over. His hips collide with yours hungrily, and his moans transform into whimpers. You know that he's close.
"Just a bit more, babe," you moan encouragingly, tangling your fingers in your hair.
Suddenly, you feel his teeth as they bite at your earlobe. You let out a shuddering gasp. It's enough to sting, but not enough to truly hurt. It drives you crazy. Before you can process the sensation fully, you're there, too, the knot of pleasure in your stomach snapping and sending you over the edge. Your orgasm rips through your body, making your pussy flutter wildly around Daryl. Your ears ring as you ride out your ecstasy, but you still manage to hear Daryl's voice.
"[Y/N], oh, god. I'm..." is all he can muster before swiftly pulling out of you and releasing on your stomach. You watch in awe as Daryl pumps himself onto you, covering your skin in glistening ropes. His face is contorted into the most beautiful picture of pleasure you've ever seen.
He lets out one final groan before letting go of his cock. As you both catch your breath, you can't help but admire how absolutely gorgeous Daryl looks. A slight sheen of sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead. The heaving of his chest and back as he tries to slow his breathing. And finally, his dark eyes that open to meet yours.
As if suddenly realizing that you're covered in his spend, he hurries himself to the bathroom attached to the bedroom through an open door. He returns a moment later with a wet hand towel. You reach you hand out for it, but he ignores it. Instead he carefully cleans you himself, wiping the warm towel over your stomach and breasts. He does this wordlessly, taking his time, focusing to make sure there's none left. When he satisfied with his work, he tosses the hand towel into the corner of the room.
You reach out again, this time, for his body. You beckon him into arms, and he allows you to lay him down on the bed beside you. Daryl is so warm, so secure and safe. Your entire body buzzes with contentment as you lie there, limbs tangled together.
As the ringing in your ears fades to nothing, the feeling of disbelief slowly starts to creep back into your mind. Did this really just happen? You decide, right then and there, that you don't care if this was all just a dream. You could die right now and be happy.
Finally, Daryl speaks.
"Was that okay?"
Despite the tinge of concern in his voice, you can't help but chuckle. You lay a delicate hand on his cheek, letting your eyes lock on one another.
"Daryl, that was perfect," you assure him. "You're perfect."
Your easy, content smile seems to make its way to Daryl, who allows to return a happy grin. You nuzzle closer to him, enjoying the warmth between you.
"I wasn't lyin'," he suddenly says after a few moments of silence. "I've been wanting you for a long time."
You run your fingers through his messy brown hair, savoring every moment of this unexpected intimacy. After all, it's not just about sex. This quiet -- just laying together, holding one another, laying hearts bare in the silence of the night -- is something you never thought you'd get again.
"When did you start seeing me like this?" you ask curiously.
"Hmm. I don' really know," he admits. "It's like I jus' realized one day that I always wanted to be around you. I dunno. The quarry, maybe."
You whip your head to look at Daryl, shocked by his casual confession.
"The quarry? Like outside of Atlanta?"
He shrugs lightly, a bit of pink returning to his cheeks. "Yeah. Maybe since then. Now, hush. Remember, we ain't the only ones in this house."
You scoff at him, smiling in disbelief. Atlanta. It felt like so long ago -- was so long ago. You settle back into him, letting his strong arms engulf your body.
"All this time..." you whisper, feeling sleep start to tug at your eyelids. "Let's not waste another day."
---
Sorry Part 3 took so long, yall! Life got crazy! This is probably the last part of this Fantasy storyarc, but I'd love to write more chapter of this "world" if people are into it. :)
Warnings: Soft!Daryl. Send help.
"Mmm? What's that look?" you asked softly, stroking your fingers through Daryl's wavy hair. He looked so relaxed, reclined into the pillows with you tucked up against him, basking in the afterglow of a blissful evening alone together.
He shrugged, his fingers drawing idle circles on your bare shoulder. "Nothin'. Was just thinkin', ya know? I was lost before ya," he drawled, ducking his eyes for a moment. "And ya came walkin' in and... s'like ya just dropped love into my heart and that's all I need. Yer all I need."
You were overcome with emotion for a second watching this strong man, this badass warrior, this man who had been owed softness his entire life be so soft for you. Those words were the sweetest you'd ever heard. You pressed your palm flat to the center of his chest so you could feel his heartbeat beneath it. "Babe," you finally managed. "You're all I need too."
He kissed you then, clasping your face delicately and trying to put every ounce of the feelings he had for you into it. In another moment, the two of you were completely lost in each other again.
Prompt: "You came walking in and dropped love into my hear and that's all I need."
A/N: HELP this is so fucking wkerh;KHQS*T^PQ(@IRGKJBDA;EUIFH;bskjfgwe&@#T ugggggghhhh you know what I mean? lol
You were carrying the fawn in your arms as Daryl walked beside you, one hand on the strap of his crossbow. He couldn't stop himself from glancing sideways at you, taking in the way you were cradling the baby deer that had already fallen asleep in your arms.
Finally, you looked over at him as he stole another glance and you laughed lightly, the smile lighting up your face. "That's like the fifth time I've caught you glancing over here! What is it?"
He shrugged, ducking his head. "Nothin'... s'just... I dunno. Ya just ain't like anybody I've ever met," he said nervously. He hazarded a furtive glance in your direction to see one of your eyebrows cocked up in a question.
"Because of this baby?" you asked, looking down at the sleeping fawn. "What was I supposed to do, just leave her to starve? Those walkers killed her mom." You lifted a hand and ran your finger gently over the soft fur down her back.
Daryl shrugged. "A lot of people would've left it... or—put it down," he said. "Ain't gonna be easy to keep her goin'."
"We'll figure it out. I'll find some formula or something somewhere. Besides, she's not a newborn. Eventually she'll start grazing."
Daryl smiled at you again. "It ain't just this. Yer just—different, I guess."
You laughed again. "Okay... Hopefully in a good way."
He ducked his head again. "Yeah. Ya just—despite how the world is now, ya do little things that make it... better."
You hummed a thoughtful noise. "Well, you do too. A lot of us do, to keep each other going."
Daryl scratched thoughtfully at a spot on the back of his neck. "Yeah, but—it ain't just that. I—I ain't good at tryin' to explain it..." he trailed off. In truth, he could have, but his nerve was rapidly diminishing. You were the person that treated him with the most softness, the most kindness, the most steadfast belief in him as he was and you were strong at the same time. He didn't understand how you did it... and he was quickly figuring out that he'd fallen for you a long time ago. "Let's just get that little one home and warm, yeah?"
It was still dark out when you heard Daryl moving softly about your little camp. You shifted on your bedroll and smiled when his poncho slipped down off you as your propped yourself up on your palm. You rubbed at the sleep still keeping your eyelids heavy. "Daryl?" you called softly.
"Yeah, 'm righ' here," he drawled quietly, materializing in the low glow of the coals.
"Is everything okay?" you asked, your breath rising in a translucent cloud in the cold air.
He nodded. "Yeah. I heard somethin'. S'just a deer. Go back to sleep."
You studied his broad shoulders for a moment and a flame of heat wicked up suddenly in your chest. "Are you?"
"Uhh—" he shrugged. "I dunno. Not sure if I can. I ain't much good at goin' back to sleep once 'm up."
"Mmmm," you hummed, nodding. "Well," you went on, sitting up, "we can get warm again now and maybe that will help." You leaned forward and Daryl watched you throw some small sticks on the coals and stir them around, blowing the ash away. The sticks caught and soon you had fed the fire back to life.
Daryl sunk down a short distance away from you, chewing on his bottom lip. It was a nervous habit of his that you knew well. "Are you alright? Something on your mind?" you asked.
His blue eyes shot up to land on your face again. "Yeah... kinda..."
"You wanna talk about it or no?"
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and ducked his head for a moment, trying to heave up some courage like an anchor from the depths. "Could—" he gulped, "—could you be happy... here with me? I mean," he suddenly became very interested in a loose string on his pants, "if I asked ya to—to stay? I know that would mean ya can't go back to Hilltop with Maggie. I know that... ya can't be in two places at once. But—"
Your face suddenly grew into an elated smile, and you seemed to brighten with a glow as it did. When Daryl hazarded a glance at you again, he couldn't look away. "Are you asking me to?"
He gulped again, but nodded. "Yeah. I am. I just—" his brow furrowed for a moment as he tried to figure out how to voice his feelings, "—I feel like part of me is missin' when ya ain't here."
Your expression softened and Daryl's heart raced. "I feel the same way. Exactly the same."
A cool rush of relief passed over Daryl. "Ya do?"
"I do," you said, nodding again.
Daryl thought he was about to burst he was so happy.
Warnings: Drunk Daryl lol, Soft!Daryl is probably also a warning cuz ugggghhh
"Alright, cowboy. Watch the steps, okay?" Your arm was slung behind Daryl's back as you led him toward the front door.
"I ain't a damn cowboy. I ride a bike, not horses. Fuckin' jumpy-ass dinosaurs. No thanks..." he drawled, drawing a laugh from you.
"I didn't mean it literally," you retorted. "Okay, straight downstairs, mister. Can you manage?"
You'd stopped at the top of the stairs down to the basement and Daryl wavered a little on his feet, frozen as he tried to regain his balance.
"Okay—just to be clear, I can't catch you if you fall. If you trip, you're going all the way down to the bottom," you said, laughing. "You're bigger than me..."
"I got it," he retorted, murmuring it just loud enough for you to hear. He reached out and gripped the railing and you let out a breath of relief as he seemed to regain his balance and go down steadily. You trailed behind him.
Daryl made his way over to his bed and sank down on the edge of it, looking back at you as you moved into him. He suddenly froze and gave you a strange look.
You froze too, smiling at the expression on his face. "What?"
"Whaddaya doin'?" he asked, his brow furrowing.
You laughed again and Daryl rubbed at his chest where it fluttered and warmed at the sound. "I'm gonna help you with your boots," you said, bending to unlace them.
"I can do it," he said stubbornly, attempting to toe them off, but you'd already tugged them free in an instant.
"I know you can," you said. "Now just lay down, drunky, and get some sleep." You went to his pack and dug his canteen out, bringing it over and setting it by his bedside. You felt his eyes on you and looked down at him where he'd settled into his pillow, one arm slung up over his head and his features soft. "Hmm?" you hummed, your heart suddenly pounding.
"You're so, so, so pretty," he drawled sleepily. "I ain't ever told ya that before, but I think it every second that I see ya."
You were so taken aback you froze completely for a long moment. "I—You're—" you sighed. "You're so drunk, Daryl," you finally laughed nervously, adjusting the sheet over him.
