Blame it on the alcohol - Daryl Dixon
Words : 682.
🍷: mutual pinning, mention of alcohol, kissing, friends to lovers.
It’s just the two of you. Again.
No group. No voices. No safety net.
Just trees stretching endlessly around you, the quiet hum of the night, and the kind of exhaustion that settles deep in your bones.
But tonight- You got lucky. A small abandoned cabin. Half-rotten, barely standing, but with a roof that holds and walls that block the wind.
And inside—A bottle.
You stare at it like it’s treasure. Daryl eyes it like it’s suspicious.
“Could be bad,” he mutters.
You raise an eyebrow. “Could be great.”
A beat. Then— You open it.
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It starts simple.
You sit on the floor, backs against the wall, legs stretched out, the bottle between you.
“I have never…” you begin, a small grin tugging at your lips, “stolen food before all this.”
Daryl snorts. “Really?”
You take a sip. “Your turn.”
He rolls his eyes slightly. “I have never… trusted anyone first.”
You both drink.
A quiet laugh escapes you. “Okay… that one’s a little sad.”
“Shut up.”
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The game goes on. Questions get a little bolder.
The alcohol warms your chest, loosens the edges of everything. Your laughter comes easier. His answers come quicker.
And the silence between rounds— Feels less heavy. More… intimate.
You lean your head back against the wall, smiling faintly.
"Alright," you say, glancing at him. "I have never... kissed someone in the last year."
You lift the bottle to your lips. Take a drink. Then glance at him—And freeze.
Daryl hasn’t moved.
“…Wait.”
He shrugs slightly, avoiding your gaze. “Ain’t happened.”
You stare at him, then laugh softly, a little incredulous. “No way.”
He frowns. “What?”
“You’re telling me—” you gesture vaguely at him, “—you, Mr. Brooding Survivalist, haven’t kissed anyone in a year?”
“Not exactly a lotta options out here.”
You grin, teasing. “Still. I figured you had some secret charm going on.”
He scoffs. “Yeah, real charmer.”
You shake your head, amused. “That’s wild.”
A pause. Then your tone softens, just slightly.
“…It’s been a long time, huh?”
Daryl doesn’t answer. Just looks at you. And something shifts. The air feels warmer. Heavier.
You don’t look away. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, a small, daring smile forming.
“Well…” you murmur. “…we could fix that.”
He blinks. “Fix what?”
You lean in just a little. “This.”
Your voice is softer now. Closer.
“You’re overdue.”
His breath catches—just barely. “You serious?”
You don’t answer with words. You just lean in the rest of the way— And kiss him.
It’s slow at first.Careful. Like neither of you quite believe it’s happening. Your hand brushes his jaw lightly, grounding him, steadying both of you.
Daryl stills for half a second— Then responds. And it’s different than you expected. Not clumsy. Not unsure. Just… real.
His hand comes up to your waist, pulling you closer without hesitation now, like something in him finally clicks into place. The kiss deepens. Warmer. More certain. The alcohol hums in your veins, but this— This feels clearer than anything all day.
You shift without thinking, your legs sliding over his as he adjusts, pulling you onto his lap. Neither of you question it. It just… happens. Your hands find his shoulders, his grip tightens slightly at your waist, grounding you there, like he doesn’t want you going anywhere.
And the kiss— Turns. Not rushed. Not messy. Just deeper. Closer. Like months—maybe years—of something unspoken finally finding its way out. It’s the way your tongue brush his, the way you head angle to feel him better, the way you allow yourself to make some faint sounds of approval when his hand caress your leg, the way you, almost-, let your hips grind back and forth on his jeans when his hand grip your hair out of your face…
When you finally pull back, you’re both a little breathless. Foreheads almost touching.
Silence hangs between you— Then you laugh. Soft. Light. A little disbelieving.
Daryl huffs out a quiet breath, something close to a laugh slipping through too. “Damn,” he mutters.
You grin, still sitting in his lap, hands resting loosely against him. “Not bad for someone out of practice.”
He rolls his eyes slightly. “Shut up.”
But there’s no bite to it. Just warmth.
You glance down briefly, then back up at him. “…Guess I should thank the alcohol.”
He shakes his head faintly. “Ain’t just that.”
Your smile softens. “No?”
His gaze lingers on you. Steady. Honest. “No.”
A quiet pause settles. You don’t move. Don’t pull away. Just stay there— In his arms.
Warm. Close. Real.
And for once— The world outside doesn’t feel quite so heavy.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ My dear readers, I fear i might be back in my TWD era ... <3 If you have a beloved request, you can comment in any of my posts or use the link in my bio to spill your dearest fantasy with whoever you want (you can found all the fandoms i want to write about in the masterlist) of whatever dream you have. I wish the sweetest day to all of you. 🍷 Lady Red Velvet wine
