Sup, Jake *grunt*

Admittedly, your dad finding out about your relatively recent relationship with the crossbow-wielding archer had not been ideal at all. You knew he would find out eventually, but you figured you would be the one to tell him, not that he would just walk into your tent on the Greene’s property and find you on the huntsman’s lap, with Daryl’s tongue shoved deeply into your mouth as his hands trailed up and down underneath your shirt.

Dale Horvath was a good man with good morals and principles, but you were worried that all of that could potentially fly out the window in favour of murdering the younger Dixon brother.

You picked at your nails as you anxiously awaited for your dad and partner to emerge from the solitude of the beloved RV. Dale had sternly told Daryl that the two of them needed to talk—after he chewed you out for keeping the relationship a secret in the first place—and they had disappeared into the mobile home. That had been a good ten minutes ago, and you were beginning to think that Daryl was indeed dead, and your dad was only trying to think of a way to sneak the body out without anybody seeing him.

As if hearing the inner turmoil in your head, Daryl finally reemerged from the RV, a neutral expression on his face. His eyes locked on yours and he began making his way over to where you sat on one of the chairs in the campsite, fiddling with what appeared to be a box in his large hands.

“You’re alive,” you voiced through a sigh of relief. “I was beginning to think he would murder you.”

Unwillingly, a small chuckle left the archer’s mouth. “Felt like it at times. Honestly, I would’a preferred kickin’ the bucket over that awkward as fuck conversation. But I survived.”

“You survived.” You got up from the chair and walked forward to embrace your partner, but stopped when you noticed your dad watching the two of you from the doorway of the RV. “So how’d it go?”

Daryl shrugged. “As well as can be expected. Got the usual talk.”

“The usual talk?”

“Y’know, threats’a bein’ murdered if I ever broke yer heart, that he’ll cut my balls off if I ever so much as think of another woman. Oh, and to ‘be safe’.” For added emphasis, he lifted the box he had been shielding from your view with his large hands, showing you the clear-as-day logo of a well-known condom brand. “Said he ain’t ready to be a grandpa yet.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered and shook your head, trying your best to keep your embarrassment at bay. “Why does he even have a box of those?”

Daryl knew that was a rhetorical question, but he provided you with an answer regardless. “Apparently, s’one of Glenn’s boxes, but yer ol’ man reckoned we needed it more.”

You ducked your head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry about him. He—”

“S’fine,” he waved you off with a small, lopsided smile. “Ain’t nothin’ I couldn’t handle.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and nodded. “Okay.”

A few beats of awkward silence passed. Daryl cleared his throat and looked down at the box of condoms in his hands. “So… should I put this away for future use or are we puttin’ one’a these suckers to use right now?” he asked jokingly, attempting to lighten the mood.

That made you laugh. You shook your head with a radiant smile. “You’re something else, you know that?”