#i was reading a fic earlier and merle said smth about daryl always liking the sweeter girls and idk it inspired this

[letterstotheflre]

oh god the first three gifs… dating pre-apocalypse daryl and him waiting everyday for you after your shift 🥺 either takes you home cause you’re tired or rides around cause you’re stressed

pls :') you work at an old diner and he waits by the backdoor cause there's almost no one there, ever. most of the other workers leave through the front door except for one or two others like you, but they don't work the same shifts as you. that means there's no one to watch you as you skip towards daryl and slump yourself against his chest with an exhausted sigh while he leans against the bike.

"hi, handsome," you whisper and leave a sweet little kiss on the base of his neck. if there were people around you know you wouldn't be able to do it, so you take full advantage of the empty street.

"hey." there's the tiniest bit of pink on the tip of his ears that you think is adorable. he flicks the end of the cigarette, ashes falling to the ground. he could see the tiredness on your face the moment you opened the diner door. "shit day?"

"the shittiest," you whine and squeeze his middle tighter.

daryl tangles his free hand in between the strands of your hair and massages your scalp. "somethin' happen?" he asks casually, but you know there's an edge to his question.

you like your job, you really do. but there's been a few times daryl's had to resort to his fists and mean words to get creepy guys to leave you alone. more times than you'd like.

"no, just an entitled old lady and some annoying teenagers." you skip over the part where you could feel the teen boys trying to take a peak under your uniform skirt. daryl looks relaxed for once and you'd like to keep him like that, not give him an aneurysm on a friday afternoon. "just wanna go home and sleep the entire weekend."

"can do tha' for ya." he throws the cigarette away and places the helmet safely over your head. he only has one and he never wears it, only carries it around for you. doesn't matter how many times you tell him to wear one you always got the same scoffed answer: "ain't no pansy, woman. don't need no helmet."

he helps you get on his bike and gives your thighs a good old pat before kicking the kickstand back into resting position and bringing the bike back to life.