it wasn’t the first time daryl had stepped in between you and some guy who didn’t know how to take a hint, but this time felt different. it wasn’t just the way he swung at merle’s buddy or how his jaw clenched with every insult the guy threw. it was something in his eyes— sharp and intense, almost angry. but angry at what, you didn’t have a clue.
daryl was like that though. a locked box with no key in sight. sometimes you swore you could almost hear the gears turning in his head, but he never let much out. you’d know him long enough to understand he wasn’t one for words anyway.
still, he hadn’t come back after walking you to your trailer last night. he claimed he needed to check on merle, who half stumbled into the bonfire and was likely causing all kinds of trouble. he left without much more than a gruff get some sleep, and just like that, he was gone.
now unfortunately, you didn’t have time to sit around and piece together what it all meant. life in a small town didn’t stop for a little heartache or confusion, and neither did your job.
the gas station wasn’t exactly where you’d imagine yourself spending your days, but it paid just enough to keep your dad off your back and your cigarettes stocked. that was enough for now.
leaning against the counter, you stared out at the aisles of junk food and faded magazines, listening to the hum of the cooler in the background. a slow day— nothing new. the usual parade of truckers passing through and the town’s regulars had already come and gone, mostl leaving behind a little more than crude remarks or greasy handprints on the counter.
the bell over the door jingled, pulling your from your thoughts. your eyes flickered toward the entrance, ready to size up the next customer— and froze.
daryl.
he walked in like he hadn’t just turned your world upside down the night before, his shoulders hunched slightly, his eyes scanning the shelves before they landed on you.
“hey,” he spoke lowly, his voice rough but still soft, like he wasn’t sure if he was welcome.
“hey,” you replied, your tone more even than you felt. you straightened up, wiping your hands on your jeans.
for a moment, he didn’t move, just stood there like he was debating whether to stay or turn around. then he scratched the back of his neck, his signature sign of nervousness, and shuffled over to the counter.
“figured i’d stop by,” he muttered, his gaze flickering between you and the counter top. “see how you were doin’.”
your chest tightened at his words, but you kept your face neutral. “i’m fine,” you said, though the slight crack in your voice betrayed you.
his eyes narrowed slightly, and you could tell he didn’t believe you. “that guy last night… he didn’t—“
“no,” you interrupted quickly. “he didn’t. you made sure of that.”
daryl’s jaw worked, his teeth pressing together for a moment before he nodded. “good.”
the silence stretched between you, heavy and loaded, but not uncomfortable. it was the kind of silence you’d shared a hundred times before, the kind where words weren’t always necessary. still, something about this one felt different and you couldn’t stop your mind from reeling.
“why’d you do it?” you asked suddenly, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself. you were aware you had already asked him the same thing last night, but you weren’t exactly convinced.
daryl blinked, caught off guard. “do what?”
“jump in like that,” you clarified, your voice softer now. “i know i already asked, and i know you’ve done it before. but last night felt— i don’t know. different.”
he glanced away, his fingers tapping lightly against the counter. for a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to answer, but then he spoke, his voice low and almost hesitant.
“didn’t really think about it,” he admitted. “just saw him grabbin’ you, and… i don’t know. i just had to.”
your breath caught a little, his words hanging in the air between you. there was something much more raw and honest in his words compared to last night, something that made your heart ache in a way you didn’t entirely understand.
before you could respond, the bell above the door jingled again, breaking the spell. a customer had wandered in, and daryl straightened, his usual guarded expression slipping back into place.
“i’ll see you later,” he said gruffly, already backing towards the door.
you nodded, watching as he disappeared into the sunlight, the door swinging shut behind him.
and just like that, he was gone again. a guarded, closed off, enigma of a being wrapped in the perfect little package of daryl dixon. you weren’t as frusturated anymore, because for once, you felt like you’d seen a glimpse of something deeper in him, something he rarely let anyone see.
but you still needed answers.
when your shift had ended, the sticky heat of the afternoon had finally begun to fade, replaced by the warm, golden glow of the sun setting. you grabbed your things and headed back to the trailer park, your mind still a tangled mess of thoughts about daryl.
the familiar hum of a radio met your ears as you rounded the corner of your trailer. merle was sitting on a lawn chair out the front of his own, a beer in hand and heavy boots kicked up on a cinderblock. hearing your footsteps, he looked up, a crooked grin spreading across his face.
“hey there, darlin’,” he drawled, raising his beer ever so slightly towards you. “thought you’d still be hidin’ out after lasts nights little circus.”
you rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him as you completely ignored his comment. “where’s daryl?”
merle shrugged, taking a swig of his beer. “hell if i know, ain’t seen him since this mornin’. why? you two lovebirds having a spat?”
“cut it out merle,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “i just— i don’t get him sometimes, y’know? one second he’s all protective, and the next, he’s gone.”
merle chuckled, shaking his head. “that’s daryl for ya. thought you woulda known that by now. kid’s got more walls than this whole damn trailer park. don’t take it personal— he don’t even know what the hell’s goin’ on in that head of his half the time.”
you frowned, his words not exactly comforting, but hitting a little too close to the truth. “so what? he’s just like this with everyone?”
“nah,” merle said, his grin fading ever so slightly. “he’s got a soft spot for ya, whether he knows it or not. don’t mean he’s gonna start wearin’ his heart on his sleeve, or whatever.”
you sighed, sinking down onto the lawn chair next to him, forehead pressing against your knees. “figures.”
merle leaned back in his chair, his smirk returning. “give him time, sweetheart. he’s like a stray dog— gotta let him come to you.”
you huffed a laugh despite yourself, shaking your head as you raised it to look at him. “thanks, merle. real helpful.”
he raised his bear in a mock toast once again, his signature shit eating grin on his features. “anytime, darlin’.”
as the sun dipped lower into the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you couldn’t help but wonder if merle was right. maybe daryl just needed time. or maybe you’d have to find a way to break through those walls yourself.
sure, you had known daryl for a big part of your life, and you thought you knew everything there was to know about him— but apparently not. because merle was right. he did have more walls than this damn trailer park.
and the worst part? you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to climb over them.
eeeee here’s chapter 3 !!! i really hope you guys enjoyed it ! not much daryl content unfortunately but we’re getting some merle x reader content (one of my fave friendships tbh)
if you enjoyed, please give this a like or a reblog ! i always appreciate it. and don’t forget to comment below if you’d like to be added to the tag list!
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Description: An unfortunate mishap leads you into the hands of the law and while incredibly handsome, you sure did wish that this detective would stop following you around. w/c: 3k
Pairing: Detective!Eddie Munson x Trailer Park!Reader.
Tags: Strangers to mild enemies to lovers, drama, romance, mystery. (This will be updated as chapters progress)
⚠️: Deceit, money troubles, found family, trust issues, weaponised independence, explorations of loneliness, abandonment, criminal activities, gun use, slow burn. Fluff, angst and eventual smut in later chapters. (This will be updated as chapters progress) My blog is 18+ MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE
Authors note: This is my new baby and I hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I am loving writing this story. Re-blogs and comments are ALWAYS welcome in this house and I thank you for your time xoxox
-
Chapter One
The interrogation table could have been the fluffiest of pillows with the way your sleep sunken eyes blinked down at it. The silver metal beneath your elbows is so scraped and tarnished that you can't even make out your appearance in it, though sure that you looked an absolute mess. It had been two hours since someone last checked up on you and three hours since the handcuffs were slapped around your wrists. Tight enough to strangle your circulation.
You were behind this desk through no fault of your own. Luckily you had your mother to thank for the intrusion into your Friday errands. Unlike your mother, who is short fused and accusatory, you had a patience that was as free form as water and kindness by the bucketful.
In the corner of the room is an old fan that spins its rusty blades lazily, as if time has visibly slowed and you try not to fret over the sweat beginning coat the back your neck in the sweltering mid July heat.
"Sorry about the wait, Ma'am. We're a little overrun here at the precinct." Finally, another human graces your presence and the bonus? He wasn't too harsh on the eyes, either, "Have you had anything to drink or eat?" A slight shake of your head tells him 'No' and he releases a soft sigh through his nose.
Opposite from you he silently pulls out the only other remaining chair, sitting on it with a care that filled you with questions.
"I apologise about that… someone should've taken care of you. Would you like a glass of water? Maybe a soda?" In the time it takes you to respond you have already consumed intricate details from his appearance. Shiny black leather belt, polished boots with scuffs on the front that he has tried desperately to hide and a necklace tucked beneath the collar of his white button down. He'd be the picture perfect cop if it weren't for the mess of curls upon his head that he's attempted to pull back into a bun. His face is clean shaven from this morning, you can tell from the shine on his face and his lips read an expression of concern.
"I'd like these cuffs off." A silence that lingers, "But I'll take a Sprite, if you have one." To that he smiles.
You were prepared for a gruelling evening and even more so to be held in a holding cell until Monday morning, but the officer in front of you gave you a quiet hope.
"Officer Munson?" His eyebrows perk at the question, evident he has forgotten the ID badge dangling from his hip.
"Detective." He corrects with a undercurrent of pride.
You bow your head, respecting the title, "Detective." You repeat coolly, "When exactly can I leave?" Part of you suspected the answer, but who were you if not a trier?
The brunette releases a gruff sigh through his plump lips, "Unfortunately, I have no authority to say." He clasps his hands onto the table and tilts his body towards you on his elbows. His nails are trimmed and clean, "Your mother has some compelling evidence against her and thanks to your destruction to private property we may be here a few more hours or until Monday. Depends on the cooperation."
"Cooperation?" You ask instantly.
At this closeness you could smell the freshness of his cologne. It reminded you fondly of the fresh outdoor springs from your childhood where you used to play. He hums and nods, "People are going to want to ask you a lot of questions. If you're open and willing to helping them build their case against your mother then I can't see why they wouldn't release you tonight."
Your tongue pokes into your cheek, "I still have a phone call, don't I?" You knew you did.
"Mhm," He replies with a readiness to grab an attending officer to help escort you to the nearest pay phone outside, "You got someone in mind?"
The gentle urge to tell him was undeniable. Like two old friends catching up after years of distance, it felt easy and familiar. He was damn good at his job.
"I do."
That person wasn't a lawyer, as it might've been best to call on one, but it was your neighbour Sally from the trailer across the way.
"Sally? Hi! Uhm, I'm in a bit of a pickle, would you be able to go on over and feed Ellie at around 6 tonight? The keys where it usually is… I won't be home for a while and you know how she gets when she's hungry." A coy smile is feathered onto your lips, "Yeah, that's the one. Okay, thank you, Sally. Buh-bye now. Bye."
To your right, the attending officer has been replaced with Detective Munson who's bulging arms are crossed comfortably over his chest and his dark brown eyes have a intrigued twinkle to them.
"Is Ellie a daughter?" There was nothing casual about the question and his body language demanded a response.
"Something like that."
"Because if there is a child at home then we can post an officer out there with them until this is all sorted out." You dismiss him with a flick of one of your contained wrists.
"Ellie is the family dog, she'll be alright." And that ended the conversation.
For the following hours men came and went with questions about your mother and about her finances. A lot of the questions you had no answer for. You didn't know much about what she did, or where her money came from, exactly, but what you did know is that it was shady. Apparently you weren't aware of just how seriously she had messed up.
Her conviction? Fraud and embezzlement.
Yours? Damage to private property.
A.k.a, when you kicked the wing mirror from your mothers car after she accused you of ratting on her. She always said you had the temper of your Daddy.
The good news is that Detective 'Hot Stuff' was able to get those charges waived on the grounds of your cooperation with the leading officers.
You'd face no consequences.
For the most part.
-
The trailer park sits settled in the dim light, but not yet asleep as you arrive home and the red marks around your wrists itch with mild irritation. A not so gentle reminder of what you'll always be… what you'll forever be seen as.
Every night without fail you can rely on the faint music playing from Sally's porch to bring sleep into your reach. Her radio was old, small and would often glitch and jump around to other stations, but every now and again there was a sweet spot that played some classical music for hours on end.
In the Summer time it was near impossible to get Sally to go indoors to bed, her husband Ally tried tirelessly but she wouldn't budge from her wicker chair out front. She was an observer, not dissimilar to you.
When you first moved to the trailer park when you were only 16 years old, and you hadn't a clue about living life on your own, you thankfully found Sally and bonded with her instantly. She reminded you of your late grandmother Patty who you could only remember through blurred memories from your youngest years. Slowly but surely that lone wicker chair on her front porch turned into one more reserved for your late night chats together and midnight nibbles of home baked goods.
As much as you cherished Sally's wisdom and her ability to make you belly laugh, you decided to steer clear of her detection tonight and clamber into your trailer through the back door. You'll thank her in the morning. Welcomed, you were met with a slobbered teddy bear dropped at your feet by Ellie, your trusty Retriever who has clearly missed you dearly.
"Hey, baby! Wait a sec while I turn a light on", The warm bulb from the red beaded lamp illuminates your small space in a homely glow, one that throws a blanket of relaxation over you instantaneously. Your window nook sofa has never looked so good.
Before bed you decide to fix yourself something quick to eat, a bland sandwich which was too dry to swallow comfortably accompanied by a can of soda fresh from the fridge. Match made in Heaven.
After allowing your food to digest a little you go about your nightly routine; refilling Ellie's water bowl, giving her a quick little treat and then taking her on her last walk of the day when the concrete is cool enough for her paws to endure. You never felt alone with Ellie, or unsafe on these late night walks because you knew her nature. She was your life's purpose and you were hers. Equally, you would protect each other.
Which was confirmed by Ellie's reaction to a strange man standing by your front door as you returned to the park. She nearly pulled your shoulder from its socket as she tried lunging toward him, "Ellie, heel! Heel, girl!"
She hadn't barked yet so hopefully the neighbours kept their noses to themselves but you could hear the growl resonating at the back of her throat. Poised and ready.
"Can I help you?" You stop a few feet away from the steps leading up towards your porch and the figure raises his hands in friendly surrender, in one of his grasps you see the reflection of a gold badge glint beneath a nearby street light.
An officer.
Your conclusion comes and goes as a whiff of aftershave engulfs your nose.
Not an officer. A detective.
"I don't mean to intrude, Detective Munson, from earlier…"His hand finds his chest sincerely before he is tucking his badge back into his pocket, "I just wanted to swing by and ensure you got home alright, you refused the lift from the other officers."
"It's a small community here," You needn't say much else, the shadow in front of you nods like he knows all too well what it's like, "Can I do you for anything else?" Ellie rests by your side now, much calmer than before.
"I guess I also wanted to confirm that Ellie really was—"
"My dog?" With a tilt of your head you look down at the panting girl by your side, patting her head lovingly before rewiring your attention back to the detective.
"Yes." He replies plainly but with a small smile which you register now as he makes his way cautiously towards you.
"Well, meet Ellie and Ellie meet… I'm sorry, do you have a first name? Or is that just detective as well?" The stranger chuckles heartily at your quick mouth and you smirk only to yourself.
"Eddie. Eddie Munson." You hum, satisfied with that reply. He looked like an Eddie.
"Do you check in on all your released criminals, Eddie, or just this one?" Your hip pops to the side and your hand follows to sit on your waist, your feet still unmoving toward your home.
"Not all of them," He hesitates, "Only the pretty ones."
A sharp inhale through your nose fills your lungs with the needed capacity to reply with composure, "Well, I thank you kindly but I'm sure you have other pretty's that you can go and holler at whilst I pitch up for the night…" You say all of this whilst moving around him, the pitter patter of Ellie's claws against the gravel acting as a pendulum as the call of your name from your unmade bed grows more tempting by the second, "I've had a long day, Eddie, if you wouldn't mind trailing off." Your head bobs in the direction of the dirt road stretching out and away from the trailer park and Eddie, the gentleman that he is, doesn't stick around to make you beg.
"Goodnight." He bows his head as if he were respectfully tipping a hat towards you.
"Bye, now."
Your bid farewell is half swallowed by the jingle of your keys in the door and as you are met with the quaintness of your empty living room you can't help but ponder the real reason why he came by tonight. And even more worrying:
Will you be seeing him again?
-
The never tiring light of Summer stirred you from slumber long before the sunrise took to the pale blue sky and as you lay staring at your alarm clock with exhaustion you can tell that today was going to challenge you in unavoidable ways. Especially with only four measly hours of proper rest.
By day, you worked with a cleaning company for businesses and home owners: Wiped Clean. One day you could be at an intimate B&B which only took an hour or two to get around on your own and the next you're at a house big enough to be a gothic castle which would take you well into the early evening with additional help. After clocking out it's heading back home to shower, change and tend to Ellie before you're hiking out again to your late shift at one of the local bars centred in town. Vinny's.
Your work schedule was arduous but the bills never did find a way of paying themselves without your help and your tin can of a car needed more gas than a lorry truck some weeks with all the miles you'd cover.
Generously, Wiped Clean would sometimes cover travel expenses if your work for the day was further than usual, but anything closer than the strict 20 miles was left up to you to finance. Today you worked close to home on a farmhouse that you visited regularly. The owner, Bob, is a sweet old man that always awaits your arrival with a huge smile and some peach iced tea to get you going. His wife, Jessie, who was unable to move much now with her crippling arthritis, waved at you from the living room window like clockwork.
"I always ask for you, I say, 'She's the sweetest girl and she's a very hard worker' I say, 'I'm not paying anyone else, you gotta send her.'" Bob follows you in from the growing heat with a hearty chuckle, imitating his phone calls with the cleaning company and you huff a laugh through your nose, already weakened with lack of sleep and his story that he has repeated to you a hundred times over. Evidently, they didn’t receive many visitors and from the lack of family photographs around the house you assumed they must be childless. But their wedding pictures were divine and pumped full of love and devotion.
"That's real kind of you, Bob. I'm glad you keep having me back." You place your bucket of supplies at the bottom of their staircase, taking a sip of the cold tea and waiting for any further instructions from the grinning old man in front of you.
"Just the same as always, Dear. Only needs a little spruce up here and there and you can be on your merry way. Don’t wanna take up too much of your time on a day like this." Internally you scream with gratitude and nod with a sweet smile before turning on your heels and heading up the stairs. Each one creaks beneath your weight and every time without fail, no matter how many times you visit, you always picture yourself falling through the wood.
The minutes tick on and an hour passes quickly. Bob was right, there wasn't much that needed to be done. It's just unfortunate that you are paid by the hour, "That's me all done, I'll see you guys next Saturday?"
"Absolutely, Honey! See ya then." Jessie replies this time, her eyes only flicking away from the television screen for a split second to acknowledge your departure before she is invested back into her show. It must've been a juicy episode.
On your way to your following and final home you wolf down your lunch in the car with one hand on the steering wheel whilst the other rummaged around blindly on your passenger seat for any other snacks you had thrown into the car with you and you washed it all down with four greedy gulps of lukewarm water. The heat was absolutely unbearable and thanks to your car air conditioning that only half worked you arrived to your new location fully drenched in sweat, windswept with grains of sand and gravel stuck to your hair and face. This wasn't a fashion runway, you knew that much, but still you felt overly aware of your appearance as the customer looked you up and down with caution.
All you could do was gleam at him.
"Cleaner?" Carefully groomed dark eyebrows perk up above his eyes, the clearest icy blue eyes you had ever encountered in your life. So blue that looking at them made you question if he were human.
"Yes," You confirm with a flash of your small ID card which has a faded headshot of you stamped in the left hand corner. Desperately you begin using your forearm to dab away at your slick forehead, pulling some rouge hair from the skin by your temples. The house behind the man looms down at you and your heart pricks with panic, "Am I the only one here?"
Registering your worry, the curly haired blonde shakes his head, "Don't worry, it's only the one room I'd like focused on today. My usual maid is out on… annual leave." You remember now, this was the customer that kept rotating different cleaners from the company. Some would come in groups for the entire house, but throughout the week it would be one or two for maintenance and upkeep purposes only. Mr. Hargrove was his name if you seemed to remember correctly from all the stories from the other ladies.
"Okay." Your bucket rattles at your side in your loosening grip.
"Shall we?" He asks with a voice dripping with charm, extending his arm back toward the front door of the property.
"Lead the way."
You couldn't help but feel semi-frustrated as you knelt scrubbing the toilet bowl elbow deep to reach the bottom. One room. Just one room and you travelled all of this way. The room did take you some time, changing the Egyptian cotton sheets, making the bed to a standard of high quality and vacuuming the thick rugs and wooden floor but still not enough time for you to have wasted coming here. The adjoining bathroom also needed some major TLC.
By the looks of it, Mr. Hargrove had had a wild evening the night before. The telltale giveaway?
Used condoms in the garbage can which you tried your best not to dry heave at.
Snapping off your yellow rubber gloves with a satisfying pop you slap them down into your bucket and after checking over all the intricate details you wander your way down towards the first floor where you'd hope to find Mr. Hargrove easily. This house appeared even bigger on the inside than it did from the outside and each corridor lead to someplace else, sometimes wrapping you around in a circle. The decor was an elevated modern style which screamed new money and the paintings on the walls made your eyes roll. You could definitely do better than most of these pieces.
Closer inspection told you of Mr. Hargrove’s character. The house was lonesome and unlived in. Ornaments dusted and polished, but unmoved and unloved. Flowers that appeared fresh poked out of grand vases but they too turned out to be fakes.
It confused you, this big house and no one to cherish it.
Finally you reach the floor below and you find Mr. Hargrove pacing the tiles in the kitchen with a tattered notebook in his hands. He looked and dressed like a business man, maybe he was practicing an important pitch.
He stops dead when he sees you, almost surprised that you're still here, "All done?" He asks gently and you nod.
"Yep. Good as new." You shoot him a thumbs up and immediately cringe at yourself afterwards.
"Great, here's some cash. Thanks again." Awkwardly you watch as he digs through his wallet that is thick with all sorts of bills. Part of you questioned if you should tell him that the company pays for these visits and he shouldn't have to pay you anything today, but you stay silent. Accepting the $50’s that he hands to you. Not like he'd miss it.
"Thank you, Mr. Hargrove—"
"Call me Billy." He reaches an open palm out to you and you wipe your hand on your pants leg, ensuring it's dry before you clasp your fingers with his, "See you next time."
He dismisses you with a wink and you take that as your queue to get out of there which you do all too eagerly.
has tp!rafe ever gotten into a fight to defend reader? im swooning thinking about how she’d be the one to patch him up and feeling guilty and rafe shutting that down so quickly bc she’s his girl, basically his wife and he’d never not defend her.
oh definitely!!!!! that’s his girl and he’ll be damned if someone tries to say shit about her. not on his watch.
they’re at a bar or something and she’s all drunk and giggly — her sweet self having the time of her life. he’s watching her, hand on her hip and holding her up right. maybe she’s leaning on tipsy & stumbles a bit, foot catching and she slightly falls into someone leaning against the bar. rafe catches her smoothly, mumbling in her ear about taking it easy. but when the douche she accidentally bumped shoulders with turns and yells at her? he’s ready for anything but easy. his anger so controlled and calculated.
“woahhh— fuck you say to her? what did he say, baby? i— i gotta be losin’ my mind ‘cause i— i know you didn’t talk to my fuckin’ girl like that, man.”
so they’re back at the trailer, rafe sitting at the table and letting her fuss over him. reader sobered up instantly at the sight of his fist colliding into the other guy. and her man for sure won the brawl — but he still endured some punches. her lip is caught between her teeth as she dabs at a cut on his cheek. rafe has his hands on her hips, trying to soothe her anxiety, as his face is angled up at her. she always hated when he fought. mumbling about you didnt have to do that and get hurt, daddy :C.
“‘course i fuckin’ did. i’d do it again, too. you know i don’t— i don’t play ‘bout that shit. not when it comes to you.”
he’s getting all worked up again and she cups his face, staring down at him as sternly as she can manage. mumbling a whiny rafeeee. she looks so cute and puppy like, he can’t help himself but chuckle. pulling her in more and holding onto the back of her thighs. his chin rests on her stomach, peering up at her, his eyes deep and enchanting.
“listen t’me — you know you’re my priority, sugar. dad’s not gonna let that shit slide, a’ight? ‘m alright, promise. c’mere.”
then she’s melting into his kiss, leaning forward and letting her body weight be held up by him. it’s a slow, delicate press of their lips that immediately pulls them both fully in. attention zoned in on the warmth of tongues and the taste of vodka & cigarettes on their breath. reader knows things will all be okay, long as rafe will take care of it.
helloooooo my loves!!! here’s an intro into my comeback fic, american teenagers! i sat on this idea for a little while during my tiny break and i honestly couldn’t get it out of my head. i was heavily inspired by ethel cain for the vibes of it all, hence the name :)
please bear with me in all this as i do get easily overwhelmed and experience burnout very quickly but you guys are always supportive so i have no doubts!!
i’m not sure when the first chapter will be out, but i’m slowly working on it as i am very excited for you guys to read it! lots of love xx
the summer of 1987 was supposed to feel different. everyone in town kept saying it— teachers, parents, the tired voices on the radio between commercials. they said it like graduating highschool meant anything would actually change. but for the kids in the trailer park on the outskirts of town, it wasn’t much more than another hot season stretched out between long days and longer nights. the same parties by the lake, and the same dreams about escaping that no one really believed in.
the days were always the same for you. early mornings at the gas station counter, and evenings at the diner pouring coffee for truckers passing through. anything to keep you out of your father’s path really. your nights were often spent on the roof of your trailer, a cigarette in one hand and a notebook full of half-finished plans and dreams in the other. for daryl, the boy you had known since he was a scrawny little thing with clothes too big for him, it was merle’s shadow and busted knuckles, endless hours fixing bikes and cars in the sun while dreaming of roads that led anywhere but this small town.
you couldn’t remember a time when daryl dixon wasn’t around. his trailer was only three down from yours. you had been inseparable since the day you caught him standing by the broken fence of the trailer park, segregating the southside of town from the rest of the townspeople. the two of you had seemed like an odd pair to everyone else— daryl’s constant silence and smoldering anger along with your rough edges and restless energy —but somehow, it worked.
the summer after highschool felt like your last chance to figure out if those dreams the two of your had whispered about on those late night drives would ever come true. but the weight of this small town— the trailers, the jobs that paid barely enough to keep the lights on and your fathers off your backs, the scars you didn’t talk about —it all hung heavy between the both of you.
you didn’t really realise it at first, the way your feelings for daryl had shifted. it wasn’t a lightning bolt or this big grand revelation in your head. it was slower than that, like the way the heat crept up during june, making itself known in those hazy afternoons and the sweat dripping down your back. you started to notice those small things— how his voice softened when he talked to you, or the way his shoulders relaxed when the two of you were alone. you couldn’t pin point when it changed, only that it had.
daryl wasn’t any better at handling it either. he’d always thought of you as the one person who saw him for more than what people whispered about the dixons— trailer park trash, troublemakers, destined for nothing. you didn’t flinch at the bruises he didn’t explain, or the scars he wouldn’t talk about. you were his anchor, his light. but now, everytime you smiled at him or touched his arm, it felt like something inside him was breaking apart and putting itself back together all at once.
that summer wasn’t just about the heat, the bad decisions, or the endless nights spent sitting under a starless sky. it was about the weight of knowing you could only hold onto each other for so long before something— or someone —pulled you apart.
neither of you had the words to say it yet, but you both knew: the end of your childhood was here, and whatever seemed to come next would either bring you both closer or tear you apart for good.
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things between you and daryl had finally settled back into place.
he wasn’t avoiding you anymore. he wasn’t shutting you out—whatever had shifted between you after that fight had settled into something else. something easier.
it didn’t mean you suddenly had him figured out, though. daryl was still daryl. still guarded, still impossible to read sometimes—but at least you weren’t walking around wondering what the hell he was thinking every second of the day. that alone was a relief.
and that’s how you found yourself at the gas station again, wiping down the counter when the bell over the door jingled. you glanced up, expecting your usual type of customers—greasy truckers or some old man looking for smokes—but instead, you saw a familiar face from high school.
“holy shit,” a voice called, eyes locked onto you. “(y/n)?”
your brows furrowed for half a second before it clicked.
“will?”
will johnson had been in your class since freshman year, but you hadn’t seen him much since graduation. he had always been the golden boy—popular, charismatic, the kind of guy everyone seemed to gravitate toward. and you weren’t popular by any means, but surprisingly, you never had an issue with will. it was always civil and polite between the two of you.
you tilted your head, offering a small smile. “damn, johnson, didn’t think i’d be seeing you around here after graduation.”
he laughed, leaning against the counter. “yeah, man. been a while, huh. you still livin’ out at the trailer park?”
you smirked. “sure am.”
both you and daryl had always been known as the trailer park kids—normally bottom of the social ladder, but it didn’t bother you. you had too many good memories of the trailer park that outweighed the bad ones. even though getting out would be ideal, life was just too damn expensive.
“some things never change,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. “anyway, me and some of the old crew are throwin’ a party tonight. you should come.”
his fingers tapped against the counter, curious eyes on you as he awaited your answer.
you raised an eyebrow. “a party?”
“yeah, like old times. bonfire, booze, all that good shit.” he shot you a knowing look. “you look like you could use a good time, (y/n).”
you scoffed, but before you could say no, he added, “bring whoever you want. it’ll be fun.”
you sighed, tossing your rag onto the counter. “alright, alright. maybe.”
will just grinned. “i’ll take that as a yes. starts at eight—out by the lake.”
you shook your head as he left, already second-guessing your decision. it had been a while since you’d been to a party with others from your high school, but how bad could it be? it was an excuse to get drunk, and you had no other plans.
by the time your shift ended and you were heading back to the trailer park, you had already made up your mind.
now you just had to convince daryl.
when you got back, daryl was outside, working on his bike again, a cigarette hanging from his lips, grease smeared on his fingers and cheek.
he looked like something out of a movie like this, sleeves rolled up, hands rough and calloused as they worked over metal. you should’ve been used to it by now, but sometimes it still caught you off guard—how easily he could look like he belonged in a different life, one where he didn’t have to scrape by.
you didn’t let yourself think about that for too long.
“hey,” you greeted, the sweet tone already lacing your voice. it usually worked when you had to convince daryl to do something he didn’t want to. “got any plans tonight?”
daryl glanced up, narrowing his eyes slightly. he knew that tone. you were up to something.
“why?”
you smirked, bouncing on your toes a little. “because we got invited to a party.”
he exhaled a short laugh, though it sounded more like a snort, shaking his head. “yeah, no thanks.”
you groaned, stepping closer. “it won’t kill you to have fun for once.”
“ain’t my kinda scene. you know that.”
and you did know that. daryl didn’t do crowds. he didn’t do small talk, forced conversations, or pretending to be interested in people he’d rather avoid. but you also knew he had a hard time saying no to you, even when he wanted to.
you tilted your head, an eyebrow raised. “what, you scared or something?”
daryl’s jaw ticked. you had him.
he stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans. “you’re so full of shit, you know that?”
you grinned, pleased with yourself. “so, that’s a yes?”
he shook his head, exasperated. “it’s a fine.”
“see? that wasn’t so hard. now, go shower,” you huffed, starting to shoo him away from his bike and towards his trailer, ignoring his protests and sounds of complaints.
the lake was already packed by the time you arrived. music blasted from someone’s truck, laughter ringing through the air, and the smell of smoke and beer filled the warm night.
daryl regretted saying yes the second he stepped out of the truck.
too many people. too much noise. it was already suffocating.
he kept close to you, like that would help. maybe it did, a little.
“(y/n)!” you heard will’s voice calling, weaving through the crowd. “you actually showed up!”
you laughed a little, shrugging. “told you i might.”
daryl didn’t miss the way will’s eyes flickered to him.
“and you brought dixon?”
he crossed his arms, already annoyed.
but you quickly waved a hand. “yeah, yeah. don’t give him shit. he’s already pissed i dragged him here.”
will nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “fair enough. help yourself to whatever. we’ve got beer, whiskey—”
daryl grunted, cutting him off. will took the hint and walked away.
you reached into an esky, pulling out a beer and handing it to daryl before cracking open your own drink and leaning against a wooden fence.
his fingers brushed against yours for half a second. you probably didn’t even notice, but he did.
he always noticed.
“you havin’ fun yet?” you teased, nudging your foot against his.
he scoffed. “not exactly.”
you laughed, taking another sip. “well, i appreciate you humoring me.”
before he could think too hard about it, will called your name again, waving a bottle of whiskey. “c’mon, (y/n)! take a shot with me!”
daryl clenched his jaw.
he hated this guy.
before he could stop himself, his hand found your lower back.
you stiffened, just for a second, and daryl braced himself for you to pull away. but you didn’t.
when you turned slightly, he didn’t look at you. just kept his eyes on will.
will’s grin faltered.
when he finally walked away, daryl didn’t move his hand.
you turned to face him fully, eyes locked onto his. “daryl?”
he swallowed.
he didn’t think. he just did it.
his lips were on yours, sudden, rough, like he had been holding back for too damn long.
when he pulled back, breath uneven, fingers still pressing into your back, you whispered, “daryl…”
his voice was rough. “i don’t know what i’m doin’. but i know i don’t wanna see you with nobody else.”
your chest ached. “you could’ve just told me that, y’know?”
he huffed a quiet laugh. “ain’t that simple.”
but maybe, just maybe, it could be.
i’m so sorry this is so short but hiiii !! i finally deliver you guys chapter 5 which you have all been so patiently waiting for 🙂↕️ i really hope you enjoy it and as always, your support means everything to me so don’t forget to like, reblog, and comment !!!
by the time you stepped out of your trailer, the sun had started to set over the horizon. the all too familiar humidity of the south still lingered in the air, clinging to your skin. you could hear the distant hum of the television playing from one of the neighbouring trailers, the occasional bark of a dog, and the ever present buzz of cicadas. the trailer park always felt slower in the late afternoon, like the whole world was sweating out the day and waiting for the cooler night air to settle in.
but you weren’t thinking about any of that.
you were thinking about daryl.
it had been over a day since the fight. since the way he had thrown himself into it without hesitation. since he had sat on your couch, quiet and brooding, before walking out into the night without another word. since he had been avoiding you.
you knew daryl well enough to know he wasn’t the kind of guy who wore his heart on his sleeve— merle made that clear. hell, sometimes it felt like he didn’t even know where his heart was, let alone how to show it. but this was different. something about the way he had reacted that night— about the way he had looked at you. it had stuck with you ever since.
and now? he was acting like none of it had happened.
you weren’t gonna let that slide.
determined, you made your way through the dirt path winding between the trailers, scanning for him. you spotted merle first, sitting on his busted lawn chair with a beer in hand, talking shit with some of the usual lowlifes that hung around. but daryl was nowhere near him.
it wasn’t until you rounded the corner by his trailer that you finally saw him. he was hunched over his bike, forearms streaked with grease, a cigarette dangling from his lips, and dark strands of hair in his eyes as he worked. his posture was tense, like he could feel someone— you —watching him, but he didn’t look up.
you knew he’d heard you coming.
“daryl,” you called, stepping closer.
no response.
typical.
you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. “you planning on ignoring me forever, or just until i stop trying?”
still, nothing.
you clenched your jaw, exhaling through your nose. fine. if he wanted to act like a stubborn ass, you could play that game as well.
marching up to him, you nudged his boot with the toe of your sneaker. “hey— look at me.”
daryl finally glanced up, but it was fleeting, barely a second before he turned back to his work. “ain’t ignorin’ you,” he muttered, voice low.
“could’ve fooled me,” you shot back. “you’ve been acting weird ever since you got into that fight.”
at that, his jaw clenched. “nothin’ weird about it,” he grumbled.
you scoffed, throwing your hands up. “bullshit.”
daryl let out a long sigh, wiping his hands on a rag before standing to his full height. “drop it, (y/n).”
“no,” you spoke firmly, standing your ground. “i’m not dropping it. i deserve to know what your problem is.”
daryl shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck like this whole conversation was some big inconvenience to him.
you took a step closer, your voice softer now. “daryl… just talk to me.”
his shoulders stiffened, and for a second, you thought he might actually open up. but then, just as quick, that wall of his slammed back into place.
“ain’t nothin’ to talk about,” he muttered.
you exhaled sharply, frustration burning in your chest. “you got into a fight over me. that’s not nothing.”
his hands flexed at his sides, like he wanted to hit something— just not you. never you.
“i don’t know how,” he admitted suddenly, his voice raw.
you blinked, taken aback for a second. “what?”
daryl exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “i don’t know how to do this,” he said, shaking his head. “any of it. sayin’ things. explainin’ shit. feelin’ shit.” his voice dropped lower. “ain’t never been good at it.”
your heart clenched in your chest. daryl had always been a closed book, but this? this was him cracking open just enough for you to see inside.
“you don’t have to be good at it,” you said quietly. “you just have to try.”
daryl let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “ain’t that simple.”
you took another step forward, hand reaching out to graze along his bicep. “it could be.”
he met your gaze, and for the first time in days, you saw it— the storm brewing behind his eyes, the weight he carried but never spoke about.
“i just—“ his fingers twitched like he didn’t know what to do with them. “i couldn’t stand seein’ him touch you.”
your stomach flipped for a moment. “why?”
daryl swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “i don’t know,” he admitted. “i just had to stop it.”
your breath hitched. the way he was looking at you, like he was trying to figure something out, like he was just as confused as you felt— it made your chest ache in a way you couldn’t explain.
“daryl…” your voice was barely above a whisper. “you always look out for me. but this felt different. was it?”
his lips parted slightly, but then he just shook his head again, running a hand through his hair.
“i don’t know,” he murmured, but the way he said it told you he did know. he just wasn’t ready to admit it.
silence settled between you, thick and heavy with everything left unsaid.
“you know,” you sighed, voice still soft. “for someone i’ve known most of my life, you sure do have more walls than this whole damn trailer park.
“you talk to merle?” he chuckled dryly, the fainted ghost of a smirk on his lips, but it was gone as fast as it appeared. “i ain’t doin’ it on purpose.”
“i know,” you nodded. “but you don’t have to shut me out.”
daryl exhaled, glancing away, his fingers tapping against his thigh like he was debating something.
finally, his eyes met yours again. “i ain’t good at this.”
“i know. you don’t have to be,” you assured him. “you just have to be honest.”
he studied you for a long moment, then nodded his head, like he was at least willing to try.
it wasn’t everything. it wasn’t a full explanation. but it was something.
and for now, that was enough.
at least, that’s what you told yourself.
but the silence stretched between you, thick and heavy with everything left unsaid. the sun had dipped below the horizon now, the sky darkening above you. you could hear merle laughing from around the corner, that and the sounds of the trailer park filling the space between you.
you didn't want to walk away just yet.
daryl shifted, rolling his shoulders like he was trying to shake something off. “you done interrogatin’ me now?” he muttered.
you huffed a quiet laugh, but your chest still ached. “i just don’t get you sometimes.”
daryl rubbed a hand over his jaw. “yeah, well… i don’t get me either.
you frowned at him. “daryl.”
his jaw clenched at the way you said his name, like he knew you weren’t done yet.
“you don’t have to figure it all out right now,” you continued. “but don’t act like nothing happened.”
daryl exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “i ain’t actin’ like nothin’ happened.”
you arched a brow at him. “you sure? because you spent the last day avoiding me like i had the damn plague.”
his lips twitched, but the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. “ain’t about you.”
“then what is it about?”
he hesitated, shifting his weight.
you could see it— the battle waging inside of him. the part of him that wanted to keep everything locked up tight, and the part of him that maybe, just maybe, wanted to let you in.
finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair again. “i don’t like seein’ people treat you like that,” he admitted. “ain’t right. had to step in.”
your heart skipped. “i know that daryl, but you didn’t just step in. you lost it.”
daryl looked away, his fingers flexing at his sides. “yeah, well…” he exhaled sharply. “i ain’t proud of it.”
you watched him carefully, hesitating your words for a moment. “would you do it again?”
his head snapped back to you, eyes dark, unreadable. and that look— that look he gave you —send something warm curling in your stomach.
“in a heartbeat.”
those words hit you like a slow moving wave, sinking into your skin, wrapping around your ribs.
in a heartbeat.
it was the closest thing to a confession you’d ever get from daryl dixon.
you swallowed the lump in your throat. there it was. that… unspoken thing between you. the thing neither of you had put words to yet.
your teeth tugged on your bottom lip as you shifted on your feet. “you didn’t have to shut me out,” you said again.
daryl stared at you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. and then, to your surprise, he gave the smallest of nods. it wasn’t much, but it was more than you ever expected.
the tension between you hadn’t gone away, not really. it was still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting. but for now, this was enough.
you’d take the small victory.
with a quiet sigh, you moved forward, wrapping your arms around his torso, head resting against his chest.
“you still mad at me?” he asked softly, arms almost immediately wrapping around your frame. it was always comforting being wrapped up in him, like he’d protect you from anything and everything— which he would.
you exhaled, shaking your head as you continued to hold onto him. “nah, i was never mad.”
his brow furrowed as he looked down at you. “sure as hell seemed like it.”
you shook your head, looking up with a tired sort of smile. “i was just frustrated. trying to understand.”
daryl grunted a little, his chin resting atop your head. “good luck with that.”
you laughed, shaking your head a little. “yeah, no kidding.”
silence fell between you again as you held each other, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable.
you both just stood there, the summer air thick and warm, the weight of the last few days finally starting to ease.
after a while, you pulled away, stretching your arms over your head. “you hungry?”
daryl furrowed his brows at you. “what?”
you shrugged your shoulders. “i’m making something back at my place. figured you might wanna eat.”
daryl hesitated for a second, then nodded ever so slightly. “yeah, alright.”
you didn’t make a big deal out of it. you just turned and started walking, trusting that he’d follow.
and sure enough, he did.
because for all the walls daryl dixon had, for all the ways he tried to keep people out.
he never really let you go too far.
hi guys!! bit of a longer one for you all today 😊 this is not proof read so don’t come for me i’m literally falling asleep rn but this all came to my head so quick i had to get it down 😭 i really hope you enjoyed it!
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