Crossbowking

EDDIE MUNSON

ONE-SHOTS

Beneath The Stars : During a party, you find yourself growing closer to Eddie, sharing things you never thought would come to light.

Sloppy Joe Special : After an incident in the cafeteria leaves the Reader feeling down, Eddie takes things into his own hands.

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Daryl Dixon

SERIES

The Road Ahead : (ON HIATUS) (Set in the beginning of season 1) Anna Brooks lost everything after the world ended — the last remaining part of herself being her older brother, who she lost contact with after communications dropped. While en route towards Atlanta to find him, Anna’s truck breaks down, leaving her at the mercy of the cruel new world. Now, Anna must face her fears head on as she struggles to deal with devastating loss, constant danger, and finding her way in a land that now belongs to the dead. But sometimes, a glimmer of hope can be found disguised as a short-tempered, hard-headed redneck who may just save her life in more ways than one. 

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MINI-SERIES

Keep You Safe (Part 1) : (Set late Season 3) You and Daryl find yourselves in a life or death situation. It was supposed to be a simple hunt - but when do things ever work out the way you plan?

Keep You Safe (Part 2)

Keep You Safe (Part 3)

Keep You Safe (Part 4)

Fight For Survival (Part 1) : (Set in the beginning of Season 5) After the Governor attacked the prison, you were separated from the rest of your group. Now on your own, you face the true struggles of survival.

Fight For Survival (Part 2)

All Our Scars (Part 1) : (Set late Season 3) After the Reader is kidnapped and tormented by the Governor, Daryl finds her having been brought back to the prison alive. Once back home, she struggles to distinguish what’s reality as she deals with the aftermath of her attack.

All Our Scars (Part 2)

That’s My Girl (Part 1) : (Set late Season 3) While scavenging for supplies in preparation for war against The Governor, Glenn, Daryl, and Y/N run into some bad people with even worse intentions.

That’s My Girl (Part 2)

That’s My Girl (Alternate Ending)

No Way Out (Part 1) : (Set mid Season 3) Trapped inside an abandoned hospital and on the run from a vicious herd, Daryl and Y/N find themselves caught up in a fight for their lives.

No Way Out (Part 2)

More Than Anything (Part 1) : (Set mid-season 6) The reader's feelings towards the archer evolve, but a supply run that goes south threatens to destroy it all.

More Than Anything (Part 2)

More Than Anything (Bonus Scene)

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ONE-SHOTS 

I’m Right Here : (Set in the beginning of Season 3) You and Daryl go on a run attempting to find supplies for the group, when you come face to face with an unlikely threat.

Don’t Look Back :  (Set early Season 2) After a devastating loss, you find yourself fighting for your life against the dead. But you realize you’re not alone when a stranger with a crossbow saves your life.

Here With You : (Set early Alexandria) You find the perfect gift for your favorite crossbow wielding survivor.

By Your Side : (Set early Season 3) In a world as dark as this one, nightmares are a common occurance - and tonight is no different.

The Road Ahead : (Set in the beginning of Season 1) After your truck breaks down while driving towards Atlanta, you find out just how dangerous this new world can be — and how the dead are the least of your worries.

The Silent Man : (Set in the beginning of Season 3) After Sophia’s death, Daryl pushed himself away - especially from the reader, avoiding her at all costs. But one day after tensions rise, the reader finally confronts the archer, letting him know just how much his distance has hurt her.

Days Turned Cold : (Set between Seasons 2 and 3) Ever since Hershel’s farm fell, Daryl had been distant. One night, after growing tired of his coldness, you confront him. And it does not go how you planned.

The Night Before : (Set in the beginning season 3) Despite the struggle of surviving day to day, the group finds a way to celebrate Christmas.

The Dark Place : (Set in the beginning of Season 4) While on a hunt for supplies, the reader is forced to face a childhood fear.

Space Between Us : (Set at the beginning of Alexandria) After the reader has one too many drinks, she finds herself being taken care of by the archer.

Look After You : (Set in the beginning of Alexandria) After a supply run goes wrong, the reader is forced to face one of their greatest fears.

Monsters Like Us : (Set late season 4) After the prison falls, the reader is forced to survive on their own. Soon after, they run into a group called “The Claimers” and things quickly go from bad to worse. But there they find a familiar face who may prove to be the difference between life and death. 

I’ve Got Sunshine : (Set early Alexandria) The reader’s feelings for the archer finally come to light.

Home Like Ours : (Set early season 9) After tensions rise while building the bridge, Daryl seeks out the only thing that seems to bring him any peace.

Be Just Fine : (Set mid season 5) The reader finds comfort during a storm.

Melt Into You : (Set between seasons 3 and 4) You always assumed your feelings for the archer were one-sided. But after an argument, the truth comes to light.

Wait For You : (Set in Alexandria) The reader shares a goodbye with the archer before he leaves on a supply run.

Just The Beginning : (Set season 1) After the quarry is overrun, the reader struggles with reality and finds comfort from an unlikely source. 

Not Like This : (Set early season 9) After everything that happened at the bridge, the reader refuses to lose anything - or anyone - else.

Honey & Whiskey : (Set throughout series) When the world ended, everything good died along with it. At least, that's what Daryl Dixon thought. But then he met a stranger in the woods and his entire world turned upside down.

A Little Longer : (Set sometime during Alexandria) Daryl leads the reader on a trek through the forest, promising an end worth waiting for.

What Comes After : (Set mid season 5) The reader falls ill while on the road after Terminus - but Daryl refuses to lose anyone else.

Don’t Look Down : (Set during the prison) After a close call with the dead, the reader finds themselves facing an entirely different kind of danger.

Life Before You : (Set mid-season 6) A quiet night between the archer and reader.

The Sweetest Thing : (Set mid-season 6) Daryl reflects on life before the end - before he met you.

Lines We Cross : (Set early season 4) A close call brings out a fiery side to Daryl.

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PERSONALIZED READER ONE-SHOTS

To Be Yours : (Lexie x Daryl) Daryl finds a way to surprise his birthday girl amidst the chaos of the new world. 

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COLLABS

More Than This : (Set during season 3) Daryl and Reader are on a supply run when they find themselves under attack.

Ain’t Over Yet (Part 1) : (Set in early Alexandria) Daryl Dixon has never been anything but cold and distant with you. But when a supply run goes south, you begin to realize that perhaps things aren’t entirely as they seem.

Ain’t Over Yet (Part 2)

The Calm Before : (Set early season 4) Daryl and the Reader are on a hunt, tracking down food to bring back to the prison, when they find themselves caught in a raging storm.

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CHALLENGES

TWD GIF Challenge Masterlist

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HEADCANONS

Full list here

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DRABBLES

Full list here

Now, hiding out in the bathroom, you were scrubbing furiously at your clothes, attempting to salvage your favorite Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. But your efforts had made it worse, the redness only spreading further as the white tee absorbed the sauce entirely. At this point, the stain was so vast that the best way to fix the situation would be to cut your losses and set the shirt on fire.

The kids at Hawkins High were ruthless, relentless in their teasing and taunting — usually, you managed to fly under the radar, but other times, like today, you ended up wearing someone’s “Sloppy Joe Special”. You huffed a breath, forcing back the lump that grew in your throat, the tears that sprung to your eyes. 

You refused to give those assholes back there the satisfaction of seeing you cry — you’d rather keel over, quite honestly.

When the door to the bathroom suddenly cracked open, you jumped away from the sink, half expecting another surprise attack — but instead, it was Eddie Munson that came into view.

He peeked his head around the door, loose curls bobbing with the momentum, one ring-laden hand clamped firmly over his eyes. “Everybody decent in here?” he called out.

You rolled your eyes despite the wave of fondness that rushed through you. 

When you didn’t respond, Eddie split two fingers apart and cracked an eye open, shooting you a lopsided smile before slipping inside the bathroom. 

You fought back the urge to shrink under his scrutiny, his gaze sweeping over you, up and down, settling on the giant, red stain in the center of your shirt. It had all happened so fast, you weren’t even sure he’d seen what happened or simply heard through ‘word of mouth’ — gossip spread quickly around the school, he was no stranger to that.

Eddie leaned against the sink beside yours and crossed his arms against his chest, cocking his head to the side. “This is quite the look,” he remarked coyly. “I’ve gotta say though, sweetheart, you really do pull it off.”

You ignored his comment, tugging at the bottom of the fabric as you examined the damage further. “This was my favorite shirt,” you sighed, tracing the band’s logo with the tip of your finger.

“Really?” Eddie retorted, scrunching his nose up in blatant disapproval. “I always forget about your trash taste in music.”

You shot him a glare from beneath your eyelashes. “Don’t diss Stevie Nicks like that.”

Eddie relented, letting out a laugh that echoed off the walls of the bathroom, that eased the tension you hadn’t realized settled in your shoulders. 

The boy just had that kind of effect on you. 

When you felt your cheeks warm, you turned back towards the bathroom mirror, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it under the faucet. You dabbed at your cheeks, beneath your chin, near your hairline, cleaning up the sauce that’d begun to dry there. After a few moments of silence stretched on, something you weren’t used to when in the presence of Eddie, you glanced at his reflection in the mirror when you knew he wasn’t looking.

He was watching you carefully, brow furrowed above darkened eyes. His mouth twitched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, toying absently with one of his brunette curls. It was the troubled expression on his face though that broke your damn heart.

He looked so…so…

So fucking sad.

When he caught you staring, he snapped out of whatever reverie he’d found himself in, another lazy smile slipping over his features — though this one didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Here, you’ve got —“ he pushed off the sink, moving to stand behind you, “— you’ve got shit in your hair.”

You subconsciously stiffened at the sudden closeness, watching in the mirror as he began to pick at the pieces of ground meat that’d gotten caught in your locks. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingertips combing through your hair and tickling your scalp, sending a chill from the base of your skull down your spine. 

His eyes flashed up to meet yours, the sound of your breath catching in your throat amplified in the quiet. 

A small smirk toyed at the corner of his mouth as he focused back on the task at hand. “There you go,” he declared a moment later, flicking away a tiny piece of food that’d stuck to his thumbnail. “Good as new.”

You ran a hand through your hair, brushing through the tangles. “Thanks, Eds,” you murmured, slipping on the sweatshirt you’d grabbed from your locker over your t-shirt.

But when you turned to leave, Eddie remained rooted in place.

The two of you stood face to face, your back pressed up against the sink. He looked like he wanted to say something but it was like he didn’t quite know how to say it, like he was struggling for the right words. He let out a resigned sigh, placing his hands on either of your shoulders and leaning in a fraction. “Don’t let them get to you, okay? Those pricks —“ he shook his head, a flash of anger flickering over his expression, “— well, they’re pricks.” 

You huffed a humorless laugh, staring down at the dirty bathroom floor. “No shit,” you mumbled, digging the toe of your shoe against the tile, hating how vulnerable you suddenly sounded.

Eddie reached for you then, his pointer finger curling beneath your chin, his thumb pressed gently against the pad of flesh beneath your lips. He tilted your head up so you would look at him, his fiery gaze softening. “You are the best person I know, Y/N,” he enunciated each word, slowly, his chocolate eyes turning to honey. “To hell with anyone who thinks otherwise.”

A small, somewhat bashful, smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah?” you murmured.

“Are you kidding?” he scoffed like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his fingers slipping away from your chin. “I would’ve dropped out of this shit hole a long time ago — but someone’s gotta stick around and pick soggy meat out of your hair.”

A surprised laugh bubbled out of you, erasing any negative feelings that lingered. “Aw, shucks, my hero,” you cooed, batting your eyelashes as Eddie let out a laugh of his own, familiar with the way you danced around each other when the line between “friendship” and “something more” muddled.

He slung his arm across your shoulders. “And hey, at least you don’t have to worry about that asshole bothering you for a while,” he said then, swinging open the bathroom door and ushering you out.

You slipped out from under him once you made it into the hallway, turning to face him. “What’d you mean?” you asked, confusion evident on your features.

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Eddie cocked a brow, leaning closer and speaking in a hushed tone. “Principal Coleman found ‘suspicious items’ in Andy’s gym locker — anonymous tip, apparently,” he shrugged, very clearly fighting back a smirk.

It only took a moment for the mischievous gleam in his eye to clue you in on what exactly he was getting at. You gasped. “Oh my God, Eddie!” 

“What!” he exclaimed, leaning against the lockers beside you, a shit-eating grin firmly planted on his face. 

You dropped your head into your hands. “Do I even want to know what you put in there?” you mumbled through your fingertips, glancing up at him. 

Eddie scratched the top of his head. “Probably not,” he admitted, albeit sheepishly.

A giggle slipped past your lips when you imagined the look on Andy’s face when he was pulled into the principal’s office. Eddie had really outdone himself this time — and it was then and there that you realized, without a doubt, that he too was the best person you’d ever known. 

Suddenly, the bell rang, alerting the students of Hawkins High that it was time to head to their next class. Kids began piling out of their classrooms, the hallway a sea of backpacks and chit-chat. You glanced around cautiously, making sure no one was eavesdropping before you took a small step toward Eddie and lowered your voice. “You didn’t have to do that for me, you know,” you whispered, unable to help the ping of worry you felt that someone might realize what he’d done.

But he simply scoffed a soft breath, resting his forearm against the lockers above you, leaning in even closer. “Nobody should treat you like that and get away with it,” he murmured, his dark gaze unwavering and steadfast. “Over my — exquisitely crafted and ruggedly handsome— dead body,” he grinned then, waggling his eyebrows, the goofy side of him back in full swing. 

You merely shook your head, huffing a laugh of your own, feeling a redness creep up the base of your neck — being with Eddie sometimes felt like ‘emotional whiplash’ in the best way possible. You wouldn’t change it for the world. 

A second bell rang soon after, signaling the final call for students to get to class before being marked as ‘tardy’. “Shit, one more late and it’s Saturday detention for me,” Eddie swore, quickly pushing away from the wall, giving you a swift kiss on the cheek, and turning on his heel to leave.

But he only made it a couple of feet when he twirled back around, pointing a finger at you as he continued to saunter backward. “We getting food after school?” he called out, a ritual the two of you practiced religiously every Friday.

You nodded. “Anything but Sloppy Joe’s!” you yelled back, smiling cheekily, feeling much better than you had just a few minutes ago.

Eddie’s face lit up as he raised his hands over his head, proudly displaying both of his middle fingers. “Sloppy Joe’s can go fuck themselves!” he cheered, letting out a loud ‘whoop’ while a few students shot him strange looks and one teacher chastised him.

But he paid them no mind — instead sending a wink your way, spinning right side round, and hurrying the rest of the way down the hall, a bounce to his step that wasn’t there before.

You watched him leave, uncaring if you were late to your next class, affection rooting you in place. The line between you, the one that distinguished “friendship” from “something more”, was getting foggier as more and more time went on. There was just something there — a spark, a connection, whatever you wanted to call it. 

And one day, that line would break.

It was only a matter of time.

With a sigh, you fell back against the lockers, resting your fingertips against the apple of your cheek. You swore it still tingled in the spot where his lips had touched you last.

An invisible marking only you could feel.

A/N: Okay, I had no intention of making a part 2 for this but I'm almost feeling like it NEEDS one??? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Tag List

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"Drop the damn thing, Bob!" the archer's voice suddenly sounded, cutting through the noise as he dropped beside you, grabbing onto the waistband of the man's pants and tugging backward.

The struggle ensued until finally, you felt the tension give way, allowing you and Daryl to pull Bob back onto the safety of the walkway. You fell onto your backside with a huff, your fingertips feeling fuzzy as you stretched them out, hissing softly from the strain.

A hand appeared in front of you then, calloused, dirt-stained, familiar. “Hey, ya good?” Daryl rasped as you took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you nodded, slightly out of breath before you turned to look at Bob.

His bag — the one that’d nearly cost him his life — was now held close to his chest, his arms wrapped around it protectively as he shifted somewhat nervously back and forth.

“What the hell, man?” Daryl broke the silence, taking a step toward him.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed, Bob — what were you thinking?” Michonne interjected, much calmer than the archer, her brow furrowed with concern.

Tyreese inserted himself between Michonne and Bob, holding his hands out. “Listen, this conversation can wait — we need to get back to our people, get these meds in them,” he reasoned.

“Ty’s right — we can talk about this later,” you nodded, stepping forward and shooting Daryl a look, urging him to let it go.

The archer hesitated briefly before relenting, pushing past Bob without another word and heading towards where he'd dropped his crossbow moments ago. 

Bob glanced back at you, his expression twisted in what looked like guilt and you felt a pang of pity. "It's okay," you tried to reassure him, shooting the man a tight-lipped smile. 

He simply hung his head as he turned to follow the others.

But then, as Bob readjusted his hold around the bag he'd clung to, the unmistakable sound of glass clinking echoed from its confines.

You froze, mid-step, as the others whipped around and stared back at Bob in utter disbelief. A moment of stillness stretched between you before Daryl suddenly stormed back towards the shell-shocked man, his expression skewing, turning nearly animalistic as he reached for the bag.

Except when the archer grabbed it, Bob didn’t let go — instead, the man jerked it in the other direction, leading to a very brief “tug-of-war” of sorts. You could see Daryl growing more frustrated, Bob more desperate, and quickly stepped forward to mediate the situation.

“Hey, hey, come on!” you tried to intervene, placing a hand on Bob’s shoulder from behind him.

Although when the man yanked the bag back once again, this time with even more force, the strap Daryl held slipped from his grasp. The momentum forced Bob to collide into you, sending you careening backward towards the edge of the walkway, a swarm of the dead just beneath. Your arms flailed, lungs seized, as you teetered on the lip of the rusted metal with a strangled gasp, fighting futilely for balance.

But gravity did what it did best.

And so you squeezed your eyes shut, and in the next moment, you were falling.

Except when the ground never rushed up to meet you, your eyes snapped open.

It wasn’t until then that you felt it — a hand, wrapped around your own, suspending you in mid-air. 

Calloused, dirt-stained, familiar.

A gasp flew past your lips as you were suddenly yanked back onto the walkway, crashing into the archer’s solid chest. You grabbed onto the front of his vest, your legs feeling wobbly as the reality of what almost just happened rocked through you.

Daryl gripped his fingertips around either of your arms, studying you somewhat frantically as you steadied in his grasp. 

The pressure beneath his touch grounded you further. 

“I’m —” you heaved, still unable to catch your breath. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” you managed, nodding shakily, unsure of who you were trying to convince.

The archer’s expression shifted then, darkened, in a way you’d never seen before — then he whirled around, his back now to you. “You stupid son of a bitch,” he snarled, crossing to Bob in two long strides and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Daryl, don’t —” Michonne attempted to intervene, though her words fell on deaf ears.

“Ya could a’ fuckin’ killed her!” the archer growled, giving Bob a rough shake.

“It was an accident — I didn’t mean — I swear —” Bob fumbled for the right words, glancing at you from over Daryl’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m —”

“Save it,” Daryl hissed sharply, yanking away the bag still in Bob’s grasp and pushing past him, pulling the top open and peering inside. He stilled, scoffing harshly as he reached in and pulled out a bottle of liquor.

You felt your stomach twist — you’d nearly lost your life over a cheap, half-drunken bottle of whiskey.  

“Got no meds in your bag? Jus’ this?” the archer rasped, betrayal laced around the words.

The resounding silence that followed was the only answer needed.

Daryl shook his head in disbelief. “Ya should a’ kept walkin’ that day,” he growled.

He held Bob’s remorseful stare a moment longer before turning from him, gripping the neck of the bottle, and cocking his arm back — but right before he could launch it over the side of the walkway, Bob suddenly spoke.

“Don’t,” he warned, shifting so his hand hovered over the gun strapped against his waist — he had only moved an inch or so, but the intent was clear.

Michonne and Tyreese’s attention snapped towards Bob, equal looks of bewilderment in their gazes, like they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. You felt a swell of anger rise in your chest, turning your skin red-hot, prickling beneath the surface. The hunting knife you kept tucked in the sheath around your thigh slid into your hand.

Daryl, on the other hand, didn’t even seem phased by the minuscule threat. He stalked towards Bob like a feral animal, closing the distance between them, eyes narrowed, chest puffed, as though daring him to make another move. He grabbed Bob’s gun from its holster and you almost wondered if the archer would put a bullet in him for even considering what had crossed his mind — but instead, he gripped onto the collar of Bob’s shirt once more, looking a moment away from losing what little restraint he had left.

“Just let it go, Daryl,” Tyreese spoke up before the tension could spill over. “The man made his choice. Nothing you can do about it — just gotta let it go.”

“I didn’t want to hurt nobody,” Bob hung his head, shaking it sadly, unable to make eye contact with anybody. “It was just for when it gets quiet.”

You let out a shaky breath, catching Daryl’s eye from over Bob’s shoulder. Something flickered over his expression — resolve, maybe even understanding. But his features hardened quickly as he pressed the bottle against Bob’s chest. “Ya take one sip before those meds get in our people…” he threatened, leaning forward until they were practically nose to nose. “I will beat your ass into the ground,” he growled harshly, giving him a quick shove. “Ya hear me?”

No one spoke as Daryl’s threat hung in the air before one of the dead hanging out of the window you’d escaped through let out a low moan.

It was time to go.

Michonne and Tyreese began climbing off of the walkway, staying hidden from the cluster of walkers still huddled on the opposite side. Daryl tucked Bob’s gun into the waistband of his jeans before motioning you forward. You side-stepped around Bob, who remained rooted in place, his eyes downcast in shame. 

When you got to the archer’s side, you glanced at him, seeing worry behind the detached facade he usually wore. You could tell he wanted to say something, but it seemed like he couldn’t find the right words — you wanted to reassure him you were fine but your voice was lost somewhere inside your chest.

So instead, you began maneuvering your way down the walkway. 

You let out a sigh of relief when your feet finally touched solid ground, still feeling shaky from what happened moments ago. You snuck around the side of the Veterinary College and met up with the others, Daryl and Bob following close behind. 

The group took off without another word, walking in silence, each lost in their thoughts. You were heading in the direction of the old factory building down the road — the minivan you’d found at the service station parked just outside.

When you felt a presence suddenly at your side, you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Ya alright?” came Daryl’s gruff voice, soft enough that only you could hear it.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye before focusing ahead. “I’m okay,” you nodded, kicking at a stray rock with the toe of your boot. “Thank you for — well — you know,” you trailed off, not needing to specify.

You’d be dead if it weren’t for him, plain and simple.

The archer merely grunted, never having been one to accept gratitude easily.

You looked at him once more. “Are you alright?” you asked pointedly — you were familiar with Daryl’s anger, his short-temper. It was a defining trait of his but back on the walkway…he’d almost lost control.

Daryl’s jaw tightened, like a fresh wave of fury washed over him. He shrugged a shoulder up, mumbling something under his breath. When you remained quiet, he peeked a look at you, regarding you seriously. “I would a’ killed him, ya know.”

Your footsteps faltered, the archer trailing to a stop beside you. The other’s slowed up ahead, only continuing when you motioned for them to carry on. You faced him head on then, concern evident in your features as he rubbed the back of his neck, albeit awkwardly, like he realized he said too much.

“Daryl —”

“S’ true,” he interrupted, his words carrying more conviction. “If you’d — if ya went over or —” he shook his head as though just the idea of it was too much to bear. “I would a’ killed him.”

A soft sigh slipped past your lips as you lowered your eyes. Part of you wished you disagreed, but an even bigger part of you understood where he was coming from — if you lost Daryl, if anything ever happened to him…you weren’t exactly sure what you’d do. 

You met his gaze. “I’m okay,” you reiterated, more gently this time.

Daryl studied your expression, something inscrutable flashing over his face before he ducked his head down, nodding once. “Good,” he murmured before looking up and flicking away the hair that fell over his face. “Let’s keep it tha’ way.”

You fought back the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth, standing up straight and mock-saluting him. “Sir, yes, sir.”

The archer snorted a breath, some of the tension he carried fading. “Smartass,” he rasped, though the flicker of amusement that flashed over his features sent your heart thrumming. “C’mon,” he reached out then and grabbed your shoulder, squeezing softly, before nudging you forward after the others.

You could’ve sworn you still felt his touch — long after he let go.

Fin.

A/N: Thank you for your patience, everyone! I know I haven't written for Daryl in a while - branching out into other fandoms (specifically Stranger Things!) has really helped me get back into the swing of writing. But even if I don't write for Daryl as much anymore, he still has a very special place in my heart (alongside Eddie Munson now because lawddddd have mercy)

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this one! It was supposed to be a 200 word drabble but somehow transformed into a 2k word fic lol but I appreciate all of you!

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

Daryl Tag List

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