#caryl fluff

Daryl: The hell kinda question is that?

Carol: The best one yet. 

Daryl: Nah. Ain’t answerin’ that. 

Carol: You’re going to make me guess?

Daryl: Or you could just drop it. 

Carol: Is it the eyes? Windows to the soul?

Daryl: Stop. 

Carol: Soft hair you can run your fingers through? 

Daryl: You’re bein’ corny. 

Carol: Help me out then. 

Daryl sighs, relenting.

Daryl: C’mere. 

Confused, Carol draws nearer to him until he pulls her the rest of the way into a tight embrace. Daryl nuzzles the crook of her neck. 

Daryl: It’s this spot right here. Let’s me know I’m home. 

Carol is speechless at first, but eventually snaps out of it. 

Carol: Now that’s corny.

Daryl: Think so?

By LJ Michaels

*This was written about a year ago, and then I forgot about it. Found it a few days ago and finished it. Just another mini Caryl-fluff. 

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Michonne: Don’t wait.

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For the hundredth time - or maybe even the thousandth? - Michonne watched Daryl watching Carol without her knowledge, a lovesick look on his face. His eyes followed her across street as she walked toward the infirmary with Judith in her arms.

The toddler giggled as Carol murmured something softly in her ear, nuzzling the girl’s neck playfully.

Daryl turned to watch their progress, and noticed Michonne staring at him with a wide grin on her face. His eyes narrowed and he snapped at her, “See something amusin’?”

Nodding, Michonne replied, “Yeah.”

“What?” Daryl growled.

She glanced toward Carol and Judith as they went up the stairs of the infirmary. “Don’t wait.”  

“For what?”

“Don’t wait too long to tell her.”

Daryl scoffed and moved away, shaking his head. Like it’s any of her business, he thought. He walked without thinking about where he was going, turning things over in his head.

He ended up on the porch of their house and sat down hard on the swing. The chains creaked in protest, and soon Rick appeared at the door to investigate the sound.

“Hey,” Rick greeted Daryl, noting his sour expression. “Rough day?” He walked over and sat next to Daryl, stretching his legs out in front of him.

Daryl scoffed and looked away.

“That bad, huh?”

Rick waited patiently for Daryl to answer his question. He pulled the Colt from its holster and checked the rounds. Dumped them out and put them back in one at a time. Twice. Still nothing from Daryl.

Finally the man stirred and sighed deeply. “’s….Carol.”

“She all right?”

“Mm.” Daryl sighed and put his face in his hands. “I need to…do something…or I could lose ‘er…but…I don’t know if I ever…had ‘er.”

“Really only one way to find out.”

He nodded and glanced at Rick. “How did you know…” He began, and then heard someone approaching. Without turning his head, he knew it was Michonne. Not only from her footsteps, but from the look on Rick’s face.

“Didn’t for sure, but….” He smiled a small smile at Daryl as Michonne reached the steps. “Had to try.” He rose from the swing and greeted Michonne with a soft kiss. She winked at Daryl as the two of them went inside, hands linked.

Daryl knew the next person to come up the street would most likely be Carol, probably still with Judith, so he waited. And thought. And doubted himself.

The hell would she want from me, anyway? Got nothin’ to give. I ain’t nobody… She’s…well, she’s somethin’….don’t even got the words to….

“Such a sour face!” Carol exclaimed. She walked into the house with Judith, smiling at Daryl. “Be right back.”

Moments later, Daryl stood as Carol came out onto the porch. As usual, he could think of nothing but her smile and shining blue eyes.”Uh...hi.” Stunning as usual. Daryl thought.

Smiling even wider than she had been, Carol snickered. “Hi.” She nodded to the swing. “Looks like you were deep in thought there.”

“Mm… A little.”

“C’mon.” She sat down and waited for Daryl to join her.

He sat down slowly, trying for the words, his eyes on the ground. Carol’s hand drifted info his vision and came to rest on his knee. Daryl looked up, sure that she would see right through his confusion and uncertainty. And she did.

Carol slid as close to him, thigh to thigh. “I talked to Michonne earlier.”

The warmth of  her leg against his was distracting, but Daryl huffed. “Woman needs ta… mind her own business.”

“She cares about you.” Carol patted his leg gently. “So do I.”

He glanced at her quickly, cheeks turning pink. Daryl laid his broad hand over her delicate one, and brought it to his mouth. He kissed Carol’s palm and met her eyes through strands of his hair.

Carol’s brows rose a little in surprise, her smile widening again. She raised her free hand to Daryl’s cheek, and his eyes closed with a relieved sigh. Withdrawing her hand from his, Carol brushed the strands of hair from Daryl’s face.

“I was hoping…for this,” Carol began. “Wasn’t sure, though.”

Daryl allowed her hands to smooth his hair, trusting her as he trusted no one. “Me, neither.” His eyes remained closed.

“Hey,” Carol said softly.

“Hmm?” Daryl was enjoying her touch, but slowly opened his eyes.

Carol leaned in and kissed him softly, just once. “That okay?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

Daryl shook his head, and Carol began to sag away, her face falling. Unable to keep up the front, Daryl put his hand on her thigh. “More.”

A/N: Ooh I love the second one!! Prepare for fluff!

Send me a Caryl Christmas prompt!

The diner was dead, hell, it was hardly a surprise, being Christmas day and all. 

The quiet jingle from the bell hung to the door had Carol looking up from the cup of coffee she was nursing the cradle of her palms.

She’d never seen the man before, he was tall and lean, and not nearly wrapped up enough for how cold it was outside. As those thoughts passed her mind Carol sprung to her feet, taking a clean cup and the coffee pot in tow, hurrying over to where the ruggedly handsome stranger sat.

“Coffee?” Carol offered with a smile that was more genuine than she thought possible to muster when working on her favorite holiday of the year.

“Please,” the man rasped back quietly, shucking off his worn leather jacket as she poured the steamy drink into his cup.

“Cream, sugar?” she asked politely, pausing the flow of coffee until he’d answered.

“Nah,” he said with a crinkle of his nose that made her chuckle lightly, continuing to fill the mug to the top.

“Anything else I can get you?” she asked, pulling the small notebook and pen out of her apron.

“Ya got any pie?” he asked hopefully, his icy blue eyes snagging hers for just a moment.

Carol shook her head. “Not today, but we’ve got eggnog cheesecake, fruitcake and I think we might have some gingerbread men left.”

“I’ll pass on the gingerbread,” the man snorted. “I’ll give the eggnog cheesecake a go though, if ya don’t mind?”

Carol smirked at his questioning. “Well I suppose I don’t mind, since it’s my job and all.” 

The man gave a small embarrassed smile back, the colour painted on his cheeks not from the cold outside.

“I’ll be right back,” Carol smiled, backing away from the table to grab him a serving of cheesecake. 

She couldn’t help but wonder what someone was doing all alone on Christmas day. Part of her felt she should ask, but another part of her knew she shouldn’t pry into customers business…

“So, alone on Christmas huh?” 

Smooth Carol. Real. Fucking. Smooth.

“Sorry,” Carol blurted immediately before he had a chance to even think about answering. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was meant to say- well I wasn’t meant to say anything at all but-”

“I ain’t the only one alone,” the guy interrupted with a slight chuckle as he glanced around the empty diner, no offence taken to her rude question.

“Yeah, it’s pretty dead in here,” Carol agreed, glancing around at the dump she called work. “You’re the first customer I’ve had all day.”

The man raised his brows at that. “Folks’re probably at home, overspending on their brats, overeating on Christmas food.” 

Carol snickered. “Sounds wonderful doesn’t it?”

The man threw her a look through a mouthful of cheesecake. 

“I’ll let you eat,” Carol said, going to back away from the table when his voice stopped her.

“Can sit here- if ya want I mean, don’t have ta though.”

He looked nervous and Carol fought from smiling as she nodded, going over to retrieve her own mug of black coffee, pot included, setting herself down opposite to him in the small booth.

“I’m Carol, by the way,” she said pointing to her name tag.

“Daryl,” he responded with a nod.

“Rhymes,” Carol said with a grin.

Daryl raised a brow at her. “Noticed,” he snorted.

“So…you don’t come here a lot?” Carol asked, although it was more an assumption rather than a question, the tip of her finger playing against the rim of her cup.

“Yeah? How’d ya figure that?” he questioned back, taking a long sip of his beverage.

“I work a lot,” Carol explained. “Plus, if I’d seen you before, I definitely would have remembered,” she added, surprised at her own shameless attempt of flirting.

It was worth it to see the pink hue return to the apples of his cheeks, ducking his head as he cleared his throat.

“Here on contracted construction work,” he explained through a mouthful of food. “But I live in the next town over.”

“Good to know,” Carol winked, apparently unable to stop now she’d started.

“Stop,” he muttered, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“So that explains why you’re here alone on Christmas day,” Carol stated, draining her cup of coffee before swiftly pouring herself another.

“But it doesn’t explain why you’re here workin’ alone on Christmas day,” he quipped back, pointing his fork towards her.

Carol shrugged her shoulders with a small sigh. She probably shouldn’t tell the man she just met her life story, but as far as strangers went this one was turning out to be pretty nice.

“I broke up with my fiance a few months back, and from the time we’d gotten together I’d lost all contact with my friends, and I never had much family to begin with. I moved to this town because I knew it was somewhere my ex would never come looking for me, so what else did I have to do on Christmas day other than work?” 

Way to scare off the handsome stranger.

Instead of throwing her some horrified too-much-information look like she’d expected, he’d simply nodded in understanding, pushing the crumbs around on the plate with his fork.

“Even if I were back home, I’d still be on my own. Ain’t got no family either, got a brother, when he’s around that is which ain’t damn often. Don’t have no friends. I’m moved ‘round on my job so much ain’t got time fer makin’ ‘buddies’ any how.” 

Carol felt sad for him but at the same time relieved. It wasn’t just her that was alone, she wasn’t the only one, which was sometimes easy to forget.

“Well I think we’d be great buddies,” Carol joked, eyes glittering as she met his secretly amused glare.

“Yeah,” Daryl pondered for a moment, scratching at the scruff of his jaw. “I spose yer alright.” 

This time it was Carol’s turn to glare, kicking him lightly from under the table. 

“I mean we’ve already had our first Christmas together now, I think that’s a pretty good start to a solid friendship.” 

Daryl snickered, nodding his head slightly in agreement. “I’d say it ain’t half bad, never spent Christmas with a woman before.”

“Maybe next year I’ll come visit you at the construction site instead,” Carol teased. 

AN- I haven’t posted this anywhere else yet, this is just a short, fluffy/angsty unpacking of what might have happened after Daryl rescued Carol in season 3. I haven’t seen that episode or written for Caryl in forever so sorry if I got any facts wrong. This was written for fun an I hope you enjoy. 😊

“Easy now, easy.” Daryl coaxed in a husky voice. “Just a little at a time.”

He was sitting on a bed in a cell in their prison home, his back leaning against a wall and a very dehydrated Carol propped up against his chest. He had his arms around her, and was holding a bottle of water for her to drink, having her take little sips.

He wasn’t sure if the physical contact was absolutely necessary. He also wasn’t sure if it was more for her benefit of his.

She had been missing for three days. Was it only three days? It felt like months. After the walker attack was over and he could not find her, a heavy sort of feeling settled deep in his gut and seemed to grow heavier by the hour, like all of his insides was slowly filling with sand. Sitting with the others and not seeing her face, not hearing her voice, her absence seemed to grow, throb and ache.

When he was searching the prison with Carl and found her knife, the heavy, sinking feeling in him swelled into a shaking roar, and it was all he could do to stay calm and press on. But then he heard the noise. The sound of a walker, or so he thought. It made sense to the tracker, the walker outside the door with Carol’s knife stuck in its throat, the walker just on the other side of the door. It could have been her. She lost the fight, got bit, made it just behind the door where she faced her own death and turned alone, with no one to comfort her, no one to kiss good bye, no one to hear her last words, and no one to stop her from turning into one of those things.

These ugly, poisonous thoughts clawed at Daryl terribly. He couldn’t bear the images that came to mind, or facing the reality that they might manifest before him when he opened the door.

It took him a few minutes to collect himself. He tapped into his anger to give him strength, he thought of Merle calling him a pussy, he thought of his old man taking the switch to his back again and again, he thought of how he and Carol shared that abusive past, and the darkest thought of all, how he failed to save her. How he failed to save Sophia. He took all his anger and he burst through the door, ready for anything but what he found.

His Carol. Alive!

Weakened and in need of succor, but alive. He had to touch her to make sure she was real. Real and breathing. The heaviness in his gut vanished in an instant and seemed to take all of his ballast with him. He scooped her up eagerly but carefully, and was scarcely able to tear his eyes off her long enough to make the walk down the corridor and back to the others.

But he managed to make it back without tripping over anything, carrying Carol in his arms, savoring the feel of the weight of her body, knowing she was real, alive and unturned.

He called out to Carl to get him some water.

“Easy now, not too fast.” He soothed.

She hadn’t had anything to drink in three days, but Daryl knew if she chugged water too fast it would just make her body throw up.

He wasn’t sure if she could sit up on her own, that’s why he propped her up against him, so her back was pressed into his chest. That and her poor exhausted body felt cold, even in the Georgia summer. That and Daryl just needed to touch her, needed a constant somatic reminder that she was with him.

She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she relaxed into him, enjoying the feeling of his heat radiating against her, her trust in him complete, she allowed herself to take comfort from her rescuer. Her hand curled around his in gratitude. He smiled beside her and gently stroked her hand with the course pad of his thumb.

They stayed like that for a long time, Carol leaning against Daryl, Daryl giving her small but steady sips of cool water and quiet words of encouragement. At times Daryl ventured to caress the length of her arm, or he would even dare to lean forward and lightly nuzzle her head, his untrimmed hair tickling her neck.

After she had enough to drink, she fell asleep in his arms, still exhausted from her ordeal but recovering in the arms of the man who loved her, her breathing long and slow and peaceful.

I mean, he usually just scoffs and laughs a little (mostly with carol 😏). But I'd love it if you could make a mini-sode where he "roars with laughter" (I'm not English, so I translated it, but idk the word for what I'm referring to, sorry😅).

Anyway, I hope you understood, thank you! ༼ つ ◕‿◕ ༽つ

I totally get what you mean. Truth be told, it’s hard for me to visualize, but here’s my best shot.

Daryl watches Carol take a long drag of the joint, equally concerned and amused when she starts coughing up a storm.

Daryl: When was the last time you got high again?

Carol: I don’t know...when was Susie Silverman's bachelorette party?

Daryl: Only you would know that, dummy.

Carol: Oh, yeah.

They both snort.

Daryl: Think you should give that back to me now.

Carol: No way. It makes me look cool.

Daryl: Tryin’ to impress someone?

Carol: Just you. How do I look up here?

She sucks the joint between her lips while she struggles to mount Daryl’s bike.

Daryl: Like you’re gonna hurt yourself…

Carol: No.

But sure enough, she loses her balance. The bike topples over and she almost goes down with it. Luckily Daryl manages to catch her in his arms.

They stare at each other and burst into uncontrollable laughter. Daryl plucks the joint out of her mouth.

Carol: Hey. I’ve never heard you laugh before.

Daryl: What? That’s ridiculous.

He takes a hit.

Carol: No, really. I never have. Not like this. It’s nice.

Daryl: Hmm. Well, it’s nice for me to see you smile so much.

Suddenly all the humor gets sucked out of their space and they’re just making intense eye contact.

Carol: It’s gotta be the weed, right?

Daryl: Yeah. Gotta be.

Daryl rolls over in bed to find Carol staring at him, smiling.

Daryl: What? 

Carol shrugs, smiling wider. 

Daryl: Sure. Now you’re quiet. 

She rolls her eyes and bats his shoulder playfully.

Carol: Shut up. 

Daryl grabs her wrist, kissing all the way up her arm and continuing along her collarbone and neck. She giggles until he silences her with a kiss on the lips. It quickly heats up, their bodies tangling together. That’s when Dog decides he wants in on the love. He leaps on top of the bed, nudging his way between them and attacking them both with slobbery kisses. 

Daryl: Hey! 

Carol’s laughing harder than ever before. 

Daryl: The hell you think you’re doin’? Get off! 

But Dog doesn’t listen. In fact he rolls onto his back to make himself cozier. 

Daryl: Jealous sum’ bitch. 

He looks over the giant mass of fur, where he realizes Carol is crying. 

Daryl: Hey. What’s wrong? 

Carol: Nothing. I just can’t remember the last time I woke up like this.

Daryl: Like what? 

Carol: Happy. 

That hits Daryl hard. He smiles, reaching out a hand to stroke her cheek.    

Daryl: Yeah. Me either. 

Sunlight filters in, stirring Daryl and Carol awake. They make eye contact.

Daryl: Hey.

Carol groans, rolling to face the other way.

Carol: I can’t even look at you.

Daryl: K, not what I was hopin’ for.

Carol: Whatever you were hoping for is going to have to wait until I can walk again.

Daryl: So much for “I won’t break.”

He sits up, wincing as he tries to stretch out his back. Carol cranes her neck to watch him.

Carol: You don’t seem to be all that together yourself there.

Daryl: Pfft. ‘M fine. Just a little sore. But maybe we oughta cap it at three next time.

Carol chuckles.

Carol: Can’t promise.

Daryl wakes up to an empty spot next to him in bed. He sits up, his worry instantly dissipating at the sight off Carol walking into the room with breakfast. She’s wearing nothing but a large button down.

Carol: Hungry?

She hands him a plate, but he can’t take his eyes off her shirt. It's doing things to him.

Daryl: That mine?

Carol: Yeah. Wasn’t just going to walk around naked.

Daryl: You coulda

Off Carol’s look.

Daryl: Something wrong with your clothes?

Carol: They don’t smell like you.

She smiles at him flirtatiously and Daryl can’t take it anymore.

Daryl: C’mere.