#murda writes

gif not mine

Daryl, drunkenly draping himself over Y/N’s lap: Hey.

Y/N: Hey.

Daryl: Y’got a boyfriend?

Y/N: Yeah. He’s currently using me as a sofa.

Daryl, looking up at her in complete shock: Better be treatin' ya right or m’gonna kick his ass.

Y/N: ...

Y/N: Daryl, you’re my boyfriend.

Daryl, slowly smiling crookedly: For real? I bagged ya?!

Y/N: Sure did, tough guy. Sure did.

Daryl: …

Daryl: M’I treatin’ ya right?

Y/N, chuckling: If I said no, what would you do? Kick your own ass?

gif @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Survivor about Y/N: Your wife’s a little high maintenance, isn’t she?

Daryl, bristling: She likes nice things.

Survivor: It’s the apocalypse. Nothing a person likes matters anymore.

Daryl: That right?

Daryl, leaning in while still keeping an eye on Y/N across the way: Y’like breathin’?

Survivor, gulping: Y-yeah.

Y/N, slinging blood off her fist after beating down a man twice her size: Stupid prick.

Daryl: …

Glenn: Man, how aren’t you terrified of her?

Daryl: Never said I wasn’t.

Rick: Go get her before she kills the guy.

Daryl: Y’think I can stop ‘er? Have ya even met ‘er?

Carol, casually knocking Daryl off balance and gasping dramatically: Oh no! Daryl’s hurt!

Y/N, forgetting everything to run towards Daryl: Oh my God, Daryl!

Daryl, glaring at Carol from the ground: Asshole.

Daryl, drunk after a particularly rough few days: Fuck that!

Rick: Listen, Daryl, I—

Daryl: Ain’t nobody gonna tell me what to do!

Y/N, appearing in the doorway, looking sleepy: Daryl. Bed.

Daryl, immediately: Alright.

Daryl, swaying on the spot while watching her walk away: That girl’s the best thing ever happened to me.

Everyone: …

Daryl: If y’know what’s good for ya, gonna forget ya heard that.

Y/N, from down the hall: Daryl!

gif not mine

Y/N: Do you like me, Daryl?

Daryl: …

Y/N: You sharpened my knife.

Daryl: Was dull.

Y/N: You found me new boots.

Daryl: Yours was busted up.

Y/N: You don’t let anything or anyone get too close to me.

Daryl: You’re a idiot an’ gonna get yourself hurt.

Y/N: You let me touch your hair.

Daryl: …

Daryl: Don’t make it weird.

Y/N: So, that’s a yes.

Daryl: Maybe?

Y/N: It’s definitely yes.

Daryl: What would no sound like?

Y/N, in her best Daryl voice: Nah.

Daryl: Well, ain’t nah.

Y/N: Are you flirting with me?

gif @reedus-and-weep

Daryl: Gonne be rules if’n you’re gonna stay at our camp.

Merle, plopping down to grab a stick and reach for Y/N’s knife: Oh yeah? An’ what are they?

Y/N, swatting away his hand: Don’t touch my stuff.

Merle, rolling his eyes: Fine.

Merle, reaching for Daryl’s knife: Just gonna use—

Daryl, slapping away his hand: S’her stuff too.

Merle, arching a brow: Where the hell’s your stuff?

Daryl: S’her stuff.

Merle: Your crossbow?

Daryl: S’hers. Lets me use it.

Y/N: Correct.

gif @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Daryl, delirious from blood loss: Y’ever think—maybe we’re married?

Y/N: What?

Daryl: In like—apocalypse law. I hunt. Ya boss me ‘round. S’basically vows.

Y/N: You are not allowed to propose while actively bleeding.

Carol: How do you even know when your anniversary is nowadays?

Daryl, shrugging: Was warm outside. Figured I could just wait til s’hot ‘nough to start sweatin’ an’ make that a marker.

Carol, deadpanning: Romantic.

Carol, to Y/N, who looks miserable: Did he get you anything?

Y/N: Food poisoning.

Daryl: We both ate that squirrel! An’ I ain’t sick!

Y/N: You eat rattlesnakes and worms, Mr. Stomach-of-Steel.

Daryl: …

Daryl: M’a go find ya some flowers.