gif @daryl-dixon-daydreams
Y/N, reading a book out loud: "And as the gentle breeze blew through the orchard, Eleanor pondered the deep, aching solitude of her fragile, shattered soul.”
Daryl, intensely focused on a motorcycle carburetor: Mm.
Y/N: "She looked up into the twilight sky, wondering if true love would ever find its way back to her quiet, modest farmhouse.”
Daryl, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his hand: Mhm, real tragic. Pass me that wrench.
Y/N: "Suddenly, Lord Sebastian was there. He dragged her inside and slammed her against the cold dining table, his breath hot against her skin. His hands tore through the cotton of her—"
Daryl, hand still out for that wrench: W-what?
Y/N: "'You're mine tonight, wench,' he huskily whispered, his pulsating shaft pressing hard against—"
Daryl, choking on air: Whoa, whoa, hold on! The hell’re y’readin'?
Y/N: "—where she ached for him. Her damp—"
Daryl, aggressively snatching the paperback out of her hands to squint at the cover: Gimme that! The hell is this shit? Thought ya was readin' ‘bout a farm!
Y/N, with big, innocent eyes: It takes place on a farm. Lord Sebastian owns the land and—
Daryl, glaring at the cover, ears turning beet red: Pulsatin’ sha—? That ain't how people talk!
Y/N: You want me to skip to the part where they're in the hayloft, or—
Daryl, throwing the book as far as he can from the garage and immediately scrambling for any piece of literature he can find: Hell nah! Here. S’a manual for a generator. Jesus.
