Summary: Knowing Dean Winchester since you were fifteen, you’ve always been pulled in his direction. Always wanting to open up the rattled and broken cage your heart lives in. But when the child you’ve been raising together dies, you find yourself closing up the cage of your heart again. And if destiny has one thing for you, it’s to break you down before bringing you back up.
Get Some Rest Series
Daryl Dixon x Wife
Summary: It’s getting harder and harder to sleep with Daryl’s child within you, he starts to tell your baby the story of your life together to give you some peaceful sleep
Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Blood, Death, Walker Bites, Smut, Impreg Kink, Pregnancy Sex, Fluff, Angst
Warnings For This Chapter: Breach, Fluff, Dad!Daryl (He’s So Cute)
A/N: I know it’s been a while but I just finished the second half of the last season and I NEEDED to write this. Chapters will not be updated every week but we’ll definitely see more before the October premiere~! Enjoy~!
As Axel falls asleep on his father's shoulder, Daryl looks around the civilization that's become his home.
There's a consistent fear spreading through his bones now that he has a moment to take everything in. The walkers are growling and the sound carries and travels for what feels like miles, the noise almost ricocheting through him entirely. The heavy clouds of smoke which thankfully are no longer black and gray still rise heavily towards the sky and for a moment your husband wonders if things will ever get back to normal.
"BREACH!"
Rick stands up quickly, putting his hand to his gun immediately.
"Oh fuck!" Dixon curses loudly, standing up off the bench.
"Stay inside, protect them both! I'll come back to tell you when the coast is clear! Fuck!" the sheriff hollers, dashing off towards the voice.
This is probably the first time that Daryl feels like he's becoming paralyzed with fear. He coddles his newborn closer to him, dropping the baby bottle to the ground in a moment of weakness.
You just gave birth, his son is only nineteen hours old!
"Get inside!" Maggie yells to him, jumping up the steps and opening the front door.
"I-" he breathes softly, looking around at the chaos.
"Have a breakdown in the house," she hisses, putting both her hands to his bare back and pushing him into the doorway.
She slams the door shut behind him and if he wasn't holding such precious cargo he'd collapse to the floor under all the weight of his emotions.
He's never been the strongest emotionally, the lack of parenting and the beat downs from his older brother made that difficult but you built him up. And now with walkers crawling through the community, the fear that clenches at him is making him spiral.
When his son wriggles within his arms, Daryl sobs softly.
"Man up," he hisses to himself, squeezing his eyes shut.
There's a soft cry that emits from Axel which paralyzes his muscles once more.
"No, no, no! Shhh, buddy. You gotta keep quiet for me!" your husband begs, finally finding his feet as he rushes into the bedroom.
He needs to nut up. He needs to protect his family. No matter what.
"Baby," Daryl murmurs, laying his son down on his side of the bed.
When you don't rouse, he curses beneath his breath.
He knows you're so exhausted, he knows you're in so much pain…
"Y/N!" your husband announces louder, rounding the bed to grab his crossbow.
You whine softly, groaning in pain as it echoes through your lower half.
"Baby girl," Daryl whispers softly, sitting beside you, "I'm so sorry, baby, but you need to get up right now."
"Why?" you whinge, peeking one eye open.
"Breach."
The single whispered word makes you shoot up and you scramble to grab your newborn son to your chest with wild eyes.
"N-No! What are you talking about?!" you gasp, struggling to sit up.
"C'mere, c'mere," Dixon coos, helping you to sit up against the headboard.
"There has been a breach at one of the far walls. Walkers are flooding in and--"
"You're not going outside!" you whimper, putting your hand to his chest.
"No, I'm not," your husband agrees, kissing your forehead, "But I need to secure the house. I need ya to keep our boy very, very silent. If he even makes a sound, I need ya to put him to your breast. Ya hear? I ain't lettin' nothin' bad happen to my family. And I know you're tired and I'm sorry for that but just stay up for now until we're alright. Okay?"
You nod immediately, grabbing your knife from beneath your pillow and putting it on the bedside table.
You're still in shock, you're in pain and you have no idea what the outside world looks like but you only have a sense of maternal instinct to keep Axel safe.
"Let me help you, let me--"
"Baby girl," Daryl coos, pressing his forehead to yours, "ya ain't movin'. Ya gave birth yesterday. You just keep the baby to your breast to keep him quiet."
"Daryl," you whine softly, pulling away to see how terrified his cerulean eyes are.
"Please, baby, please. Just listen to me. Let me look after my family," he begs, coursing his rough hand over your cheek.
"Put the bookcase in front of the door," you whisper, hearing shouts echo from outside.
"I got it," your husband promises, standing up.
Axel begins to whinge in your arms softly at the loud gun shots that begin to go off and your husband curses loudly, putting his crossbow to the floor to draw back his string.
"To your breast, to your breast," he hisses in a chant, putting the arrow in the slot and dashing out of your bedroom.
"Oh my fucking God!" you whine loudly, pulling down your bra.
Daryl takes a deep breath through his nose, wading through the halls of your home with cat-like prowess.
There's gunshots and bloody horror screams creeping through the shut windows and he can only bite some dead skin off his bottom lip nervously.
There are no working clocks in your home but he knows it's probably been about four hours since the breach. About two hours in, he started thinking of the others.
Michonne, Carol, Carl, Rick.
How are they faring out there?
He doesn't want to seem cowardly or think negatively but it's hard to do with so much screaming outside.
He's been fighting with himself to open the curtains of your home just a tiny bit to see the outside world but at the same time, he can't bring himself to do it. He just brought a damn baby into this world, he doesn't wanna see anything terrible.
Now that the house is completely and totally secure, your husband creeps down to the bedroom. Opening the door with the mouth of his crossbow, he leans against the doorframe.
You're now standing up on shaky legs, changing your newborn's diaper.
"The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout, down came the rain and washed the spider out! Up came the sun and dried up all the rain and the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again," you sing, barely above a whisper.
God, how your husband loves you. Folding his arms, Daryl watches you for a moment.
Your smile when you look at his son… Your motherly affection…
Jesus Christ, it's incredible. You're incredible.
"I love you," Daryl announces softly, putting his crossbow down.
"How is it out there?!" you inquire, picking up Axel.
"Still loud," Daryl nods, he enters the room and shuts the door tightly behind him, "Rick told me he'd come tell us when it was clear. I think it was a big breach. How's my lil hellraiser, huh?"
"He's being very good," you reply, surprised, "I don't know how I was as a baby but I don't think I was this quiet and this patient the day after I was born."
Daryl chuckles softly, walking towards the bed. "My momma used to say that I was a troubled baby. I was always screamin' and kickin' seven ways to Hell or somethin'."
Smiling softly, you ease back down onto the mattress. Your eyebrows furrow and your husband sits beside you. He runs his hand lovingly over the back of your head, bending down to kiss his son's small forehead.
"How much pain you in?" your husband inquires, kissing your temple.
"It's achy pain, it's just constantly there… Throbbing but I'll be alright."
"The bleedin'?" your husband asks, taking Axel from your arms so you can lay back.
"Slowly stopping. Hershel said it's all normal and that I'm doing great," you breathe, closing your eyes.
Daryl can only smile. "Ya are great. He ain't wrong."
"Doing great," you correct with a giggle.
"You're great, you're doin' great. Same thing. You're perfect," he murmurs, pressing his lips gently to yours.
"Daryl! Back door!" Rick screams at the top of his lungs.
Grabbing your knife, you ease out of the bed with a whine.
"Lay down, you shouldn't be walkin' around right now!"
"You're holding the baby, I got it," you murmur, grabbing the crossbow by the door.
Your steps are slow but you take a deep breath through your nose that grounds the pain if only for a moment.
When you step out into the hallway, you can see a walker slowly climbing up your back patio steps.
"Baby?!" Daryl hisses, following you into the hallway as he presses Axel to his bare chest.
"It's just one," you breathe, dancing the handle of your knife from one hand to the other.
As you look out the back door, you can see new plumes of rising smoke and there's a gentle scent of burning flesh which makes you sigh mournfully.
"Y/N!" Rick shouts, rushing towards the door.
"I gave birth, I'm not broken!" you yell back, earning the attention of the walker who growls at the sight of you through the glass door.
"Okay, big man, okay. I know. Mama is takin' care of it," your husband whispers in your son's ear as he wakes up.
Cracking the door open just a bit, you whistle louder.
"I am… very tasty. I promise," you sigh dramatically.
Daryl can only chuckle, finding it so astonishingly attractive how you're already back to your old self.
"C'mere," you coo.
When the walker gets close enough, you jab your blade into the skull with a fast, violent motion.
The squelch and the stench of the dead you did not miss but asserting yourself feels kinda good if you're being honest.
"Mama is such a badass," your husband quips to your newborn as he rocks him gently.
"Well I'll be damned," Rick breathes, stepping up your back porch, "Come a long way from a chicken shit in a prison if you ask me."
"How is it out there?" you inquire, looking over his bloody clothes.
"Getting better," the sheriff promises, pulling the body away from the door and then kicking the dead body down the patio steps.
"Come on," you beckon your friend, opening the back door.
Rick steps into the house quietly, combing his dirty fingers through his hair. "Got some folks fixing up the breach, at least a hundred or so came through. Maggie and Glenn have been guarding the perimeter of this house since the beginning. Their newborn nephew is top priority today."
Daryl chuckles softly, following after his best friend as they walk towards the kitchen. "Been a while since we had a new baby in the community."
"Especially a baby all the leaders care about more than anything," he quips, turning on the water and grabbing the homemade soap.
You watch the sheriff scrub at his arms viciously to get rid of the black blood and dirt that has caked up on them.
"I can't believe this would happen the day after I give birth," you breathe softly.
"The world got some real bad practical jokes sometimes," your husband murmurs, passing Rick your son as he dries off his arms.
"Come 'ere, beautiful, let me help ya sit down," Daryl whispers softly, kissing the crown of your head.
You let him take all of your weight, putting your hand to your back with a tired hum.
"God, he is so damn cute. He really looks like the sweetest mix of both of you," Rick coos, coursing a soft hand over the baby's head.
"Can I close my eyes for just a few minutes? Please?" you beg, laying down on the comfy couch.
"Yes, ma'am, I'll stay with Daryl for a while," your friend breathes, taking a seat in one of the arm chairs.
Your husband grabs his crossbow and sets it down on the floor beside him as he sits down on the couch. He pulls you up just a bit more, draping your body over his lap. His fingers course softly through your hair and he stares at the barricaded front door with narrowed eyes.
"I remember when Lori first had Carl. She was asleep twenty hours a day for the first week when he was born. She couldn't move, she couldn't… she couldn't do much of anything besides feed and change him every so often. To see Y/N already pushing to be back in the fray again… I don't know how I could have ever thought she was weak."
Your husband glances over to the sheriff watching how he runs a loving index finger over his baby's chubby cheek.
He waits a moment until he can feel your gentle breaths of air symbolizing that you're asleep through the rips in the knees of his pants.
"She was weak at first. Don't ya remember the time when we came back from the baby store? When we went searching for stuff for Judith? She's grown a hell of a lot since them days," Daryl whispers, brushing your hair off your face.
"I remember that as the day you shattered my nose. Can't really recall much else," Rick chuckles, shaking his head at the memory.
The redneck smirks softly, flickering his gaze back to the doorway.
"Once this place is completely secure again, you should think about having another baby."
Your husband's eyebrows knit together and he turns to his brother with confusion written all over his face.
"You should have two so that they always look out for each other. It might be difficult the first few years, but you got us to help you. You and Y/N are strong but having someone else your age to look out for you makes you stronger. That's just a fact. I hindered Carl with Judith sometimes because she was so young. Besides, the place still stands, we aren't going anywhere anytime soon."
"I'll think about it," you mumble sleepily, turning around to bury your face into your husband's stomach, "Now shut up, I'm sleeping."
"Sorry, baby," Daryl chuckles, running his hand over your arm soothingly.
"You should tell the next part of your story for Axel. He likes your voice," Rick offers, leaning back in his seat and pulling out his knife just in case.
Your husband nods thoughtfully, training his crossbow at the door once more.
Summary: It’s getting harder and harder to sleep with Daryl’s child within you, he starts to tell your baby the story of your life together to give you some peaceful sleep
Rating: 18+
Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Blood, Death, Walker Bites, Smut, Impreg Kink, Pregnancy Sex, Fluff, Angst
Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Blood, Death, Walker Bites, Smut, Impreg Kink, Pregnancy Sex, Fluff, Angst
Warnings For This Chapter: Fluffy, (Short Chapter)
You're a strong woman, Daryl knows that.
But even the strongest women need a break.
He's already astounded at how amazing of a mother you are and it's only been eighteen hours since his son was born.
Laying in bed beside you, he can't begin to understand the constant aching pain you're in and he sure as hell can't imagine what kind of weariness is overtaking you.
You've only just managed to fall asleep when your son begins to cry.
You whine softly, nodding with understanding.
"I'm coming, baby," you whisper blearily, wincing as you go to sit up.
"Stay. Stay sleepin'. I got 'im. You deserve all the rest in the world," your husband murmurs, kissing your forehead.
"There's a bottle of-"
"I know. Breastmilk is on the second shelf. I got it. Go back to sleep," Daryl coos, helping you lay back down.
"Love you," you murmur sleepily.
He crosses the room in an instant, picking his son up carefully.
"I love you too, baby. God, them lungs. I gotcha. Come on, lil man." he whispers, slowly draping his son over his shoulder.
His large, calloused hand rubs loving circles to his back and he drifts his lips softly over his newborn baby's cheek.
"I know, I know. You're hungry." Daryl murmurs, pulling open the fridge.
The wailing in his ear makes his brain rattle and your husband still feels this overwhelming love shroud him.
Putting the bottle into the sink, your husband flicks on the warm water. He waits patiently for the bottle to warm up, trying to keep his son quiet for you to sleep peacefully.
"Axle Richard Dixon," he laughs, putting his pinky finger in the baby's mouth.
God, his heart is so fucking full.
He never thought he'd ever be able to have something like this and look at him now.
He was so afraid to hold him when Axle was born. He didn't want to hurt him or do something wrong but you and Hershel instilled confidence in him immediately.
Daryl already knows his son is gonna be a mommas boy and goddamn, do you deserve it.
Your husband picks up the now warm bottle, splashing a drop on his wrist like Hershel taught him to.
He steps out of the house quietly, sitting down on the padded swing.
"I know, I know buddy," he coos, adjusting his son to feed him.
"Holyyyy shit," Rick drawls, walking up the patio steps.
"I was gonna come find ya but he's a handful." Daryl announces, closing one eye and looking up at his best friend.
"Yeah, I bet he is. He's your son, of course he's gonna be a lot."
"Shut up," the redneck chuckles, looking back down at his newborn.
"He's beautiful, Daryl, really." the leader mumbles, leaning back against the wooden railing.
Your husband smirks, holding the baby closer. "He looks like Y/N."
"For now. He's got your blue eyes. Carl looked like Lori when he was first born and now-"
"Now he looks like his old man… unfortunately." Daryl quips.
Rick flips him the middle finger with a smile, watching how his brother's face lights up when Axle suckles the milk like he's starved. "Man… I can't believe you're a dad now. It's so surreal. A little pocket of hope in this hellish world."
"Yeah," your husband breathes, staring down at his son.
He can feel his throat clenching up and his eyes becoming watery. Sniffling softly, he looks up at the wooden ceiling above him.
"It's so crazy, man. I never, ever thought I'd be able to have somethin' like this."
"Daryl, after losing so much like you have… you deserve this. You deserve everything you could ever possibly want." Rick whispers, clamping his hand over his brother's shoulder.
Daryl nods almost childishly, wiping his wet cheeks on his shoulders.
"Oh fuck," he breathes, exhaling deeply to try and calm his nerves.
With the bottle completely finished, Rick sits down on the steps of the patio as your husband burps his newborn son.
It's almost all too easy for the redneck to forget his best friend is beside him.
"You want me to continue the story? Hmm?" he coos, kissing Axel's temple.
"You've been telling him bedtime stories?" Rick inquires, folding his arms and stretching out his legs to get comfortable.
Daryl looks up at him slowly, a lazy smirk gracing his features. "Yeah, Axel liked to hear my voice the past few months. Gave Y/N some time to get some rest. I've been tellin' him about me and his mama."
"What part did you get up to?" the leader asks intrigued.
"Just about to get to Terminus," your husband replies.
"Oh man… Carl misses that big cat… Well, don't let me stop you." his best friend chirps, resting his chin on his fist.
Daryl looks over at Axel, angling his head to see the small baby wriggling and moving sweetly within his grasp. "After I asked your mama to marry me, we started to head towards Terminus."
"Who knows what we're getting into, I don't trust it," Daryl gripes, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder.
"You don't like or trust anything," you quip softly, elbowing him.
He lifts a tree branch out of your way, smacking your backside with narrowed eyes. "Easy now, girl. Don't make my trust for you disappear."
"Yeah, you wish," you guffaw, taking out your knife and stabbing an incoming walker in the temple.
A wry smirk plasters itself onto your fiance's face and within a moment it's taken away.
Salve purrs loudly, sniffing the air at something incoming.
Daryl wraps his hand around your mouth, taking you back behind a tree, he holds up a hand earning Rick's attention.
You can hear twigs and leaves crunching and snapping underfoot from figures coming closer towards all of you.
"I'm fucking hungry man. Mary better make good on that pot pie she promised."
Daryl shushes you softly in your ear when you twist your ankle on a surfaced root.
You bite your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as you stifle your whine of pain.
"We have a situation on A, we need everyone back."
You bury your face into your fiance's chest, feeling the pain radiate through your leg.
When the footsteps begin to recede, you sob softly into his chest.
He continues to shush you softly, pulling up the leg of your pants without a word.
Daryl cringes visibly at the swelling of your ankle and he looks up at Rick nervously.
"Can you walk?" Michonne inquires, picking up your backpack for you.
"I can only try," you whisper, picking up the collar of your shirt and tucking it between your teeth to bite down hard.
Your fiance pulls your arm over his shoulders before hauling you up to your feet.
With a groan, your head lolls against his arm and he shakes his head to Rick.
"I-I can do it," you breathe heavily, trying to will yourself to put just the slightest bit of pressure on your foot.
"No. Ya can't be walkin' around like this," Dixon announces gruffly, looking around for anything and everything like an answer will just show up before his eyes.
"There's an abandoned house a little bit down the road, I saw it in the distance when we were coming up," Michonne relays to you all.
Daryl doesn't feel comfortable leaving you on your own but he's going to have to and it hurts him to his very core.
With a gentle grunt, he lifts you into his arms bridal style. "I gotcha baby."
The walk to the abandoned house is short and filled with unnecessary tension due to your injury.
The small cabin is filled with random objects and the smell is simply horrific but there's a chair that Daryl sits you down in.
"We're just gonna do some recon and we'll be right back. I promise," your fiance promises, kissing the top of your head.
"Salve is gonna stay with Y/N," Rick tells his son and Carl is quick to agree.
"We'll be back soon." Dixon breathes, leaving you a bottle of water and a MRE.
"It was unfortunate," the sheriff announces, pulling Daryl from his memories.
Your husband nods, cuddling his newborn son to his chest. "Very unfortunate.”
Next Chapter ----->
Get Some Rest Taglist: @howlerwolfmaxx, @dunixxd, @daryldixonstorm, @shawtygonemad, @riverscyberwife, @gnocchey, @fuseburner, @lightning-butterfly, @inthewindsomehow, @rayneill, @dariangarcia, @scrappybear89
Hey guys! It saddens me to say this but there will be no new chapter of GSR this week! I'm so sorry, I got too overloaded throughout the week and wasn't able to finish the chapter in time!
Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Blood, Death, Walker Bites, Smut, Impreg Kink, Pregnancy Sex, Fluff, Angst
Warnings For This Chapter: Nervous!Daryl, Heartwarming Fluff
"DARYL!"
Your husband jumps awake at the scream, tearing himself away from you.
"DARYL, I NEED YOU OUT HERE NOW!"
He jumps out of bed, tugging on his pants without a second thought and he curses softly when you rouse from your sleep.
"What's wrong?" you murmur, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
"Dunno. Rick's screamin', I gotta go." Daryl hisses, leaving you alone in bed.
"Don't you come out, baby! You hear me?!" he hollers to you, grabbing his crossbow and opening the front door with it held high.
With the morning sun beaming down, your husband can see clouds of grey and black smoke rising to the sky in the distance.
"Walkers!" Rick yells, running past his brother and jumping on the ladder to scale up to the watchtower.
"Oh fuck," Daryl grunts, running to the ladder.
When he's finally up beside the group leader, his eyes widen at the sheer amount of walkers that are on their way to the gates.
"What the fuck happened?" your husband gasps.
"The walkers heard a woman screaming on the road and it pulled them away from Glenn and me. We took the quicker route and got back." he heaves, putting his hands to his knees.
"How are we gonna redirect 'em? There's too many," Daryl groans, counting at least seventy five as far as he can see.
"Jesus," you breathe, stepping up onto the platform.
Your husband turns to you with wide eyes and he doesn't know why he even bothered to tell you to stay inside.
"What did I say? Huh? Like talkin' to the fuckin' wall sometimes." he gripes, shaking his head.
"We have more important issues than that right now," you remind him, pointing at the herd.
"Any ideas?" Rick inquires, looking over at you.
You blink at the sheer amount of dead people walking towards Alexandria's gates.
"Have them fire at the farthest post. Let's spread them out, it'll be easier to pick them off."
Rick pulls out his walkie, cursing softly under his breath. "Glenn, fire off some shots, we need to spread them out."
You and Daryl duck beneath the lip of the metal, shaking your head at how fast things are spiraling out of control.
You can recall something that Carol said when you first arrived here.
'Staying here is going to make everyone soft.'
She's not wrong, all of the community inhabitants down below you look completely terrified.
"Y/N!" Michonne hisses and you stretch out to grab the sniper rifle she throws up.
Wrapping your hand around the strap, you tug it toward you with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth for concentration.
"Watch the baby," Daryl hisses, wrapping his hand around your arm to keep you from meeting the wooden floor.
"We don't have enough bullets to take them out, Abraham and Rosita are still out scavenging." Rick reminds you all in a hushed tone.
With a huff, you shake your head.
Glenn's gun goes off and you're pleased when you hear growls starting to shift over like they're following the sounds.
You sit back against the wooden posts, letting your head loll back to have the sun warm your face.
"How far down is it?" you inquire, looking up at the clear blue sky above.
"Ten feet, maybe." Rick murmurs, peeking over the side.
"We need to work slow at it. Get the wood beams from the pile where we're extending the community and sharpen the ends. We need to start poking these fuckers in the heads," you sigh, looking at your husband and the leader.
"Good plan," Rick smiles.
"Good, now that you're done savin' the world, you're goin' home." Daryl breathes, nodding to your house.
"But I can help, I can-"
"Daryl's right. You shouldn't be on your feet, you need to get some rest. We can take care of them."
"You're not thinking clearly, you can't just do this by yours-"
"Y/N," your husband hisses.
When you look up at him, you can see the concern written all over his face. You've been helpful but now it's time to let the others take care of it -- for your health.
"Alright," you concede, hooking your foot onto the ladder.
"Please, be careful," Daryl begs as you sling the rifle over your shoulder.
"I'm pregnant, not broken."
"That's even worse when you got my baby inside ya, be careful. I'm right behind you," he promises.
You don't want to admit it but climbing up and down that ladder really took a lot out of you.
You've been drifting in and out of consciousness all day but you haven't heard gunshots at all which is a good sign. It means your plan is working and things haven't gone overboard enough to resort to wasting ammo on the dead.
Finally, when you're drifting off to sleep again, you can hear the front door swing open.
"Daryl?" you call out.
"Yeah! I'm gonna hop in the shower!" he announces from the living room.
You sit up slowly in bed, wincing at a small pain that radiates through you when the baby moves inside of you.
You grab onto the bed side table to help you stand and you yelp softly when you lose your balance as another pain tremors through you.
You steady yourself with your arms when you collide with the floor. Your hands and knees ache with a dull, throbbing pain and you whine softly.
You don't understand where this is coming from, you've been fine all day.
"Baby?!" Daryl calls, jogging into the room.
"I'm okay," you promise, grabbing onto the mattress to help yourself up.
"What happened?!" your husband asks quickly, rushing to your side to help you stand up.
"I-I'm not sure. There was a pain in my-" you hang your head at the pulsing pain once more and Daryl drifts his hand lovingly over your back when you let out a shaky sigh.
"Baby's comin'," he whispers, kissing your temple.
"No, don't say that! Don't fucking say that! It's not time. I'm not ready!" you yelp, grabbing his bare shoulders to steady yourself as you sit down on the bed.
"You're not ready," he agrees. "But the baby might be."
"Oh fuck," you whine, knowing that he might be right.
"I gotta get Hershel, baby. How can I help you for now?" he inquires, kissing over the crown of your head.
Your body is getting hot, you feel the pain building and building within you and you feel lightheaded as all hell.
"I wanna get in the bathtub," you beg, looking up at your husband with tearful eyes.
"Come on, baby girl," he whispers, wrapping your arm around his neck and easing you closely to his side.
He turns on the cool water, helping you out of your baggy pants and thin tank top.
"Oh this is so not fucking happening," you whine, gripping onto his arm when another shot of pain echoes through you.
Daryl hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear, cerulean eyes begging to understand the pain that seeps over your features.
When he crouches down to help the fabric down your legs, water begins to seep down your thighs.
"Oh Jesus," he whispers, tapping your calf to step out of your underwear.
"Oh my God," you groan, putting your head back.
This is simply ridiculous.
You're completely not ready, you're frightened and to top it all off your waters just broken.
"Daryl, please don't leave me," you sob, getting into the large tub.
You turn around to him, drifting your hands helplessly over his bare chest.
"I know you're scared, baby. I know. But I gotta get Hershel, I don't know how to deliver a baby. I'll be right back, I promise you. I promise," he whispers, cupping your face with both of his hands.
His eyes are steady, pupils unwavering with determination and you sob at the simple terror that's alive in your chest.
He kisses you softly, putting his forehead to yours when he pulls away.
"I'm gonna get 'im and come right back. I promise." he avows, helping you sit down.
You whine gently, letting your head loll back to the porcelain lip of the tub.
"This is the worst," you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut.
You fix your sports bra, hearing your husband run down the hallway and out the door without a second thought.
"You wanted to make a dramatic entrance, huh, kiddo?" you murmur, drifting your fingers over your stomach.
"Where's Hershel?!" Daryl inquires, rushing down the street.
Maggie turns to him, eyes wide at how flustered and out of breath he is. "Infirmary! What's wrong?!"
"Y/N's water broke!" he replies, willing his feet to run faster down the road.
He looks truly insane with just his pants on without a shirt or shoes but he was so flustered.
His baby is coming a week and a half early and he wasn't expecting this when he woke up this morning.
"My dramatic lil' hellraiser," he scoffs, jumping up the stairs to the infirmary and shoving the door open.
Your husband finds himself amidst chaos as soon as he steps foot inside. Some of the Alexandrian residents must have gone over the wall when they were stabbing the walkers.
"What is it, son?" Hershel calls, covered in blood with a sharp axe in his hand to take off a bitten limb.
"Y/N's water broke! She's goin' into labor!" your husband replies, putting his hands on his knees.
Hershel curses softly, shaking his head at the ludicrousness of his evening. "I'll be over as soon as I can! Denise, help me bandage this arm! Daryl, go back to your wife!"
"She's in the bathtub, she's in pain," Daryl announces, stepping out of Denise's way.
"So then you go back and you make her comfortable, son. You get in the bath behind her, you take care of her until I get there."
The redneck nods immediately. "O-Okay!"
It's like he's been glued to the spot. He can't move to save his life. He isn't ready to be a dad just yet, hell, he feels like he only just made this baby and now it's coming into this world.
Your husband feels like he's gonna throw up. He feels like he's gonna have a heart attack.
Don't get him wrong, he's excited to meet his baby… but he's deathly nervous as well.
No one ever coddled him or loved him like he should have been loved. No one raised him right, he raised his damn self and he was a volatile, angry shit his whole damn life until you showed up.
How is he supposed to father this kid when he's only ever just found out how to be a person?
"Daryl! Go!" Hershel yells, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Your husband curses, ripping open the door and making his way back to your house.
"Nut up, man. That's your fuckin' wife n' baby in there," he hisses to himself, rushing back home.
"Baby?!" he yells, hearing your pained whine when he enters your house.
He leaves the door unlocked for Hershel, unbuttoning and dropping his pants to get into the bath with you like the good doctor told him to.
"D, please," you sob aloud.
His eyes flutter shut and he shakes his head at how painful it must be for you.
It never occurred to him how gut wrenchingly awful the pain must be and in a way he's sorry to even put you through it.
When he finally reaches the bathroom, he can see your hair matted to your face, a film of cold sweat on your body.
"Oh, baby," he whispers, kneeling down beside the tub.
There's blood in the water, it's not a lot but his already frayed nerves get even more tense at the sight of it.
"I'm gonna come in with you. Hershel told me to." he whispers.
Your head is lolled back to the porcelain lip still and you're in such a pained daze, you can't move until he touches you.
"I'm so fucking scared," you cry.
He shushes you softly, shivering at the cold water that envelops his legs.
In some way, he's grateful that these houses were seemingly built for the rich, you can both fit comfortably in this large tub.
"You're the strongest woman I know. I know you can do this. I'm scared too but I'm here and our baby is gonna be perfect." he promises softly in your ear, drifting his now wet hands over your bump.
"I thought Carol was the strongest woman you know," you quip through your tears, gritting your teeth when a contraction ripples through you.
"Just don't tell 'er," he jokes back, moving your sweat soaked hair off your face.
"Can't have any bad rep for Pookie," you laugh softly, putting your head back to his chest.
It's comfortable now with him behind you like this. It makes your worries just a bit smaller.
"Shut up," he teases, kissing your cheek.
"Is Hershel coming?" you whimper, placing your hands over his and squeezing.
"He's comin'," your husband avows, hooking his chin over your shoulder.
"I love you. Even though I'm in pain… it's gonna be worth it."
Daryl nods, eyes fluttering shut. "I love you too. It is gonna be worth it. Everythin' with you is worth it. I'm worth it cause of you."
Daryl can feel your legs cramping and stiffening beside his and he's almost psychotic with worry but he knows it's all going to be okay.
"I think it's gonna be a girl," he whispers, running his thumbs over your belly.
"Why do you say that?" you inquire, looking over at him.
"Cause the big man upstairs been playin' games with me since the day I was born. He's gonna give me a girl that looks just like her mama and I'm gonna have to keep a gun on my hip twenty four seven to make sure no guy ever looks at 'er."
You laugh softly, squeezing his hands painfully when another contraction shoots through you.
"You're alright, I'm right here. Just breathe, baby. You're doin' good." he coos, tilting his head for your comfort when you bury your face into his neck.
"God!" you yell through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes tightly. "They're getting closer together. I need Hershel to get here."
"I know, baby. He's comin'. I'm sorry you're in pain but it's gonna be worth it. It's all gonna be worth it when we have our kid out in the world with us," your husband breathes, kissing your forehead.
"Talk, please. I need a distraction," you beg, hanging your head.
Daryl nods, watching as your legs widen.
"You remember the time that you helped Carl save that horse? He was gonna get eate-"
"Something happy, Jesus. All we have are stories about death and fucking bites." you groan.
Your husband smirks, watching your heavy legs lift to the sides of the tub like they're stirrups.
"Our baby is gonna be the most brilliant, beautiful kid. They're gonna learn how to play instruments… how to build things with their own two hands… how to do things we never thought we could. Our baby is the future. The pride that's gonna fuel this community to be the best it can be."
You hum in agreement. Tilting your head to the door when you hear footsteps in the hallway.
"Our baby is the future." you repeat, giving Hershel a small smile when he steps into the doorway.
"Hey there, I hear we have a little one coming in today," the veterinarian announces, putting on gloves.
"The contractions are so close together, it's like they're tearing me apart," you hiss, feeling some relief that the older man is here now.
"Well," he breathes, crouching down at the foot of the tub. "In a few minutes you're gonna start pushing, you're almost fully dilated."
"We ain't got nothin' for the pain? She's hurtin', doc." Daryl whispers nervously, kissing your temple.
"It's too late for that. The baby's coming. She's gonna have to soldier on without it."
"Oh, good," you deadpan, huffing out.
"Just squeeze my hands, baby. As hard as you want to. Break 'em for all I care. Let me take your pain," your husband pleas.
Your mind begins to muddle at the pain and you can barely think now without a string of curses flowing past your lips like a sailor.
"Next contraction you have… you're pushing, okay?" Hershel asks, looking up at you for confirmation.
"Yeah," you breathe, lolling your head back.
When the next contraction ripples through you, you begin to push and the guttural scream that flows past your lips is furious and pained.
You keep pushing and breathing, screaming and sobbing until you hear it.
Until you hear the cries of your firstborn child.
"Oh my God," Daryl sobs, burying his face into your hair.
Hershel coddles your child, making sure it's just fine before putting the baby to your chest.
"It's a boy," the older man whispers.
"A-A boy?" your husband cries, looking over your shoulder.
When he sees this little human being he's created, his heart fills with the only parental love a man could have. He feels his veins thrum with euphoria and he can feel his limbs freeze with absolute comfort.
"He's beautiful," you whisper, coursing your hand over the baby's small face.
"He is," your husband agrees, tilting your face with his index finger below your chin.
Daryl presses his lips to yours, bleeding every 'thank you' and every 'I love you' he's ever wanted to say into the passionate action.
"Thank you, baby. Thank you for giving me a beautiful baby and a beautiful life," you husband whimpers, drifting his hand over the back of the baby's head sweetly.
Hershel holds out a pair of scissors to the new father. "Go on, son. Cut the cord."
With a shaking hand, Daryl grabs the pair of scissors.
He takes a deep breath, finally feeling his life become complete in this moment.
He has a deeper understanding for Rick, for Hershel, for all fathers in all honesty.
He will do whatever is necessary to make sure that his son has a bright future, to make sure that there will be a safe place to lay his head at night.
And with a steady exhale, he cuts the umbilical cord.
Next Chapter ----->
Get Some Rest Taglist: @howlerwolfmaxx, @dunixxd, @daryldixonstorm, @shawtygonemad, @riverscyberwife, @gnocchey, @fuseburner, @lightning-butterfly, @inthewindsomehow, @rayneill, @dariangarcia
Summary: It’s getting harder and harder to sleep with Daryl’s child within you, he starts to tell your baby the story of your life together to give you some peaceful sleep
Rating: 18+
Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Blood, Death, Walker Bites, Smut, Impreg Kink, Pregnancy Sex, Fluff, Angst
Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Blood, Death, Walker Bites, Smut, Impreg Kink, Pregnancy Sex, Fluff, Angst
Warnings For This Chapter: Jealous!OC, Fingering, Daddy Kink, Squirting, Romantic!Daryl
Setting down his fork, your husband leans back in his chair satiated and content.
"We could watch a movie," you muse, throwing your feet up onto his lap.
Daryl hums in agreement, taking to stroking the bare skin of your ankles with soothing circular motions.
"Gotta keep it down though, we got a heard comin' through tonight and tomorrow. Glenn and Rick are pullin' 'em through to the twenty mile marker," your husband informs you.
You nod, remembering hearing about the herd of fifty walkers that's begun to swarm around the old beat up town not too far away.
"No movie then, we can just relish in each other's company," you suggest.
"That's always a good plan," he whispers, leaning over and placing a gentle kiss on your cheek.
It's hard to remember a time when Daryl wasn't this big ball of gushy love towards you. Not that he rarely shows it in front of anyone but that's alright in your book. What you share is special and it doesn't have to be on display twenty four hours a day wherever you go.
You deem it to be that he's so incredibly comfortable with you that that's the time that he can really be himself.
Who would ever actually think that when Daryl settled down that he'd be excited about runs just to see if he could find old Motorhead records just to put them up on the wall or listen to them rarely when he finds a moment to himself?
He's finally able to live a real life.
A knock comes at the door pulling you out of your reverie and Daryl raises an eyebrow.
"I'll get it," he murmurs, slowly setting your feet in his chair as he stands.
When the front door opens and Leslie stands in the doorway, you have the overwhelming urge to roll your eyes.
This woman is like a mosquito that you try to swat away but somehow it always lives and continues to suck the blood out of you when you sleep.
She only just showed up to Alexandria a few months ago, Daryl and Rick brought her back after a run when she completed the famed three question quiz.
Since the moment she got into this community she's been trying to stick to your husband like glue.
She reeks of eau de homewrecker.
"Daryl!" she cheers sweetly, wrapping her hair around her index finger as she looks him over in his entirety.
"Daryl!" you mock under your breath, standing up and gathering the clean dishes.
"Uh, hey Leslie. Can I… help you?" your husband inquires, leaning against the doorframe and folding his arms.
She always has some excuse for him to come help her even though she literally sleeps beside Spencer every damn night.
Once she had the audacity to ask Daryl to teach her how to whittle arrows. The bitch has never held a bow and arrow in her life.
It would make you more upset but you know how loyal your husband is to you and you can't deny just how much he loves you, not when you're about to give birth to his child in a few weeks.
"Yes, you can! I need help moving my furniture and I need a nice… big… strong man to help me."
Now with your back facing her, you roll your eyes so hard you're surprised they don't fall out of your head.
She's been getting bolder lately. Spencer's dicking down probably isn't up to snuff but why must you be subjected to her ill attempts at putting the moves on your man?
It might just be your hormones raging but you feel no ounce of regret when a fire starts to burn in the pit of your stomach.
"He's busy," you call to her, turning on the water.
"Oh Y/N," she breathes, irritation scratching at her voice. "I didn't even see you. I was so taken with the man in front of me."
Running the dirty chef's knife under the water until it's clean, you simply nod. Turning to her with the knife in hand, you flip it thoughtlessly, letting the handle glide from one hand to the other.
Daryl tilts his head to you, amusement flitting and then plastering to his face. The corner of his mouth lifts humorously, leaning his temple against the doorframe.
"Yeah, it must be really difficult to see me. It's no easy feat to look this skinny when I'm eight months pregnant with my husband's baby," you deadpan, turning the knife down and stabbing it into the wooden cutting board on your right that sits atop the island counter.
Leslie gives you a smile, one that's completely fake that doesn't reach her eyes and it only instills the treasured thought of wrapping your hands around her neck and choking her out Homer Simpson style.
"So can you help me m-"
"Are you deaf?" you cut her off, leaning down on the island with both of your elbows.
Daryl chuckles softly, shaking his head at how thick headed the new girl before him really is.
You're a protective woman and you know what's yours. And he's constantly pleased as punch that it's him.
"Excuse me?" Leslie gripes.
Your husband jams his foot against the doorframe, making sure she doesn't step into your shared home because once she does… she'll really be dead meat.
"You fucking heard me. I know you did. My husband is busy. I've had it up to here with your little woe-is-me act. Bitch, we live in an apocalypse. If you can kill walkers, you can move your own goddamn couch three feet to the right without you having to saunter all the way across the community to ask Daryl. Just cause I'm pregnant doesn't mean I won't beat your ass into the ground."
Daryl presses his lips into a straight line, cheeks puffing out while he tries to contain his laughter.
"You're a fucking-" Leslie begins, starting to become pink in the face with anger and embarrassment alike.
"A bitch? A cunt? A really dumb whore?" you muse, raising your voice each time.
Your husband looks past the door, to see Rick and Glenn stepping up the patio quietly.
He's sure they heard your loud, nasty tone which doesn't come out too often and they're here to investigate.
"Let me tell you something, new girl. I've been really nice to you these past few months. I haven't talked to you, which is a kindness. I've had so much that I want to say to you but I'll start with this -- stay the fuck away from my husband before I hurt you."
"Baby," Daryl coos sweetly, trying to calm you down.
"Daryl," you warn, holding up your finger.
"Yes ma'am," he murmurs, running his hands over his face to hide his smile.
It feels good to give this bitch what she deserves, it feels good to see her rooted to the spot.
"I am so sorry that Spencer's fucking is so lackluster that it has left you with some sort of needy imagination," you gasp, putting your hand to your heart. "But my husband is not the place to try and fill that. You've been warned about not messing with Michonne and Maggie because they're some tough bitches-"
Slinking around the island, you narrow your eyes at her. "-but I'm a bitch that will ruin you and make you wish that you were eaten by walkers before ever crossing me."
Rick and Glenn sit down on the swinging bench outside of your home and Daryl raises his eyebrows humorously at them.
"I don't even know what you're talking about," she scoffs, combing her hands through her hair.
"Oh okay," you sigh simply, leaning back against the island counter and tilting your head. "Well let me say it again, just so that we're clear… Actually, no. My husband will say it."
Daryl tilts his head to you, giving you a devastatingly handsome wink.
"Daryl, do you want to fuck the new girl?"
"No baby, I don't. I'm married to the only woman that gets me excited," he replies sweetly.
"Do you want to move her furniture or teach her how to whittle arrows or take her on runs miles away from Alexandria?"
"No."
You nod sweetly, tilting your head to Leslie. "Get off my porch."
Your husband watches you walk off, down the hallway and to the bedroom before the door slams shut with the force of a thousand men.
Sighing happily, he turns back to Leslie. "You heard the woman, guess it's time to turn in for the night."
He swings the door shut in her face when she opens her mouth to speak and he only chuckles when he hears Rick and Glenn burst out laughing outside the door.
He leaves the dishes in the sink, knowing he can wash them later. Striding down the hallway, he peeks into the bedroom only to see you laying down on your bed with your eyes squeezed shut.
He sneaks in silently, stepping to the foot of the bed.
Daryl takes the opportunity to kneel between your parted legs and you peek one eye open to look up at him.
"What?" you grumble, closing your eye once more.
Your husband smirks at the annoyed tone of your voice, knowing just how easily he can change it.
He lifts your shirt, drifting his lips over your belly slowly.
"I love you," he avows, running his hands over your hips.
"Are you sure you don't love Leslie?" you huff childishly.
He snorts softly, nipping at the skin of your belly until you're gasping above him.
"She ain't havin' my baby, she ain't my wife," he breathes, licking over your distended skin. "I don't want anyone that ain't you. You know that."
You hum softly, rolling your eyes at the irritation that still sings through your veins.
"Bein' upset ain't good for the kid. You know that, Hershel told me." your husband whispers, lifting your shirt higher.
"Well I am upset," you mumble bitterly, watching his lips move confidently up your skin.
"I know, let me change that," Daryl insists, tugging your sports bra up and over your chest until your breasts are on full display for his eyes.
"Fuck, you're pretty," he murmurs, kissing over the soft flesh until his lips part over your nipple.
He suckles softly, moving his body to your side to make sure he wouldn't lean down too hard above you.
You try not to give him the satisfaction, wanting to be the brat that Leslie pulled out of you not too long ago but it's difficult to stay focused when his fingers drift up your inner thigh.
Daryl smirks against your skin, feeling how your thighs tense stubbornly and hearing the whimpers you desperately want to let out get smothered in your throat.
"Come on now, girl. You know better than this," he muses, kissing across your chest to your other stiff peaked nipple.
You refuse to comply, looking up at the ceiling to try and steel your composure.
Your husband worms his hand in between your tightly pressed thighs. He chuckles softly against you, feeling how much of your arousal is slick on your lower lips.
Without warning, he enters his middle and fourth finger into you. His thumb rubs smooth, slow circles to your clit all the while curling his fingers deep inside of you.
When the pads of his fingers brush against the soft spot inside of you, your hardened composure melts.
Daryl hums in agreement when you whimper aloud.
His fingers and his thumb gets faster with each second and your legs spread wider and wider. The sound of your arousal as he finger fucks you is so loud that it drowns out your own soft mewls.
"It was hot to see you give that girl what she deserves," your husband whispers, kissing up the thin skin of your neck. "I love you."
"I love you too. Oh fuck!" you whine, grabbing at his arm.
You can feel his muscles terse and flex with each thrust of his fingers.
"Come on, baby girl. Give it to me, daddy wants it," he murmurs into your ear.
It's fast and unforgiving, the pleasure that courses through your limbs. Daryl knows exactly how to get your orgasm trembling through you, he's been an avid learner of your body for years now and he's proud of how well he knows you.
"Daddy! Holy sh-" you sob out, burying your face into his neck when your orgasm rips through you.
Your husband groans gently at the amount of cum that squirts onto his hand and he pulls back far enough to kiss you slowly as you come back down to Earth.
"Feelin' better now? Not so annoyed now, ain't that right?" Daryl inquires, pressing his forehead to yours.
"She just pissed me off," you mumble, turning on your side and resting your belly on his torso.
"I know but she needed to learn sometime. Gotta put people in their place once in a while and I'm lucky you love me enough to get so protective of me and what's yours." he whispers, drifting his fingers over your distended skin.
When your breathing starts to get shallower and your body becomes heavier against his, he knows you're falling asleep.
You, the strong woman who's carrying his child, deserves all the rest in the world even if it means his arm is gonna fall asleep in no time.
His lips drift over your hairline and his eyebrows raise when his child earns his attention with a swift kick.
"I'm gonna just have to start callin' you lil' hellraiser, huh?" your husband coos, leaning over you to grab the lotion from the bedside table.
It's tricky to do with just one hand but he manages to squeeze a dollop of lotion out onto his chest, hoping to warm it up.
With gentle, circular motions he rubs the lotion onto your taut stomach with a smirk.
Daryl can think of no greater feeling than this right now. To be safe in a bed, in a house, in a community with his wife and baby?
There's not a word in any language in all of the world that could define this.
When a small patter comes from beneath his hand, he smiles.
"Yeah, I'll continue my story for ya," he breathes.
He shushes you softly when you stir against him, burying your face down against his chest.
Daryl waits until you've drifted far enough into your unconscious state before continuing.
"I asked your mama to marry me in probably the most unromantic way… ever. She doesn't think so but… I've never been romantic before her. She probably deserved flowers or somethin' precious like that," he reminisces, drifting his thumb over your protruding belly button while his memories sweep him back to times not so far gone.
"On your left," you hiss, pulling out your knife.
Your feet are slow, going from heel to toe in hopes to lessen the sound of crispy leaves underfoot.
Daryl turns sharply to his left, aiming down the sight of his crossbow and firing without a second thought.
The cougar you've brought into your family the past few days, hisses softly and Carl nods to where Salve is looking.
"We needa find a place to camp. It's getting dark," Rick whispers as Michonne chops an oncoming walker.
"How much farther do you think we have?" you inquire, stepping on the walker's head for your boyfriend to retrieve his arrow.
"Another day, maybe? We've been good taking it slow. The cat is helping us keep aware." the leader admits.
Daryl kisses your temple softly before setting his crossbow down on the ground and pulling back the string.
"There's a warehouse coming up, we can clear it and stay in there," Michonne notifies you all, pointing ahead.
Adjusting your leather gloves, you nod. "Me and Daryl will take first watch."
Sitting beside your boyfriend, you pass him half of your canned corn. You lay your head down on his shoulder, the burning fire in front of you keeping the Georgia night chill out of your bones.
Daryl chuckles, passing you his can of beans. "Nice trade."
"I need protein too," you quip, looking up at the broken roof of the warehouse to see the stars peeking through.
Your boyfriend touches his pocket and the prospect of asking you to marry him makes his hands start to sweat.
It's ridiculous, really.
Society isn't even a thing anymore, there's nothing to stop him from asking you, no parents to get their blessing and yet -- he's terrified.
He doesn't think you'll say no.
He hopes you won't say no.
Daryl Dixon was already living an apocalyptic life before all this shit ever went down. He was more than prepared for it. And now that he has a woman who he loves, who loves him back… it's like his life never really began until the dead started rising.
"Y/N," he murmurs, setting down the can of corn and drifting his hand over your cheek.
You look down from the stars, giving him a loving smile and the sweet tilt of your head that he adores.
"You okay?" you inquire, sitting up.
He looks behind him to make sure everyone is sleeping before clearing his throat.
"I'm okay," he promises, digging his hand into his pocket.
You move his long hair out of his eyes, staring into the cerulean orbs you love.
Daryl is expressive. For a man that doesn't speak much, his eyes can tell you stories so far beyond your imagination.
You can see all of his love and care, all the euphoria that nestles deep into his bones when you're together. But you can also see a nervousness, an anxiety that doesn't sit well with you.
"I love you," he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.
"I love you too."
Daryl swallows his fear as much as he can, trying to bury it deep.
"We live everyday as if it's our last," he begins, pulling his hand out of his pocket. "And I don't know how long we have together… We never know. But I know that you've made me into a man that I'm proud of. You've made me into somethin' more than the spineless animal that I used to be. You took away my hatred and my fear… made me believe in somethin', made me believe in love. And I don't want to go another day without you knowin' just how much I love you. Without knowin' just how much you mean to me."
You smile softly, running your hands over his clothed chest. Your eyebrows wrinkle curiously and he smirks at the sight.
"I ain't a man that… knows how to do this. I've never had a girlfriend before, y'know. Never had a love life. But-" he opens his hand to show off the gigantic ring he plundered from the jewelry store yesterday. "-I need you to know how much I treasure this… Us… And even if we live for one day, two weeks, ten years -- I want to go out knowin' it was you. I wanna go out knowin' you were my wife."
"Holy… shit," you gasp, widening your eyes and looking up at him.
You're stunned into silence, absolutely elated that he would be considerate enough to do something like this.
"Daryl," you scoff, finding your eyes burning.
"So? What do you say?" he inquires nervously, holding up the ring.
"Yes! A million times yes!" you yelp, throwing yourself over him to envelop into a hug.
Daryl falls back to the concrete ground with a laugh, wrapping his arms around you.
You kiss him deeply, drifting your hands over his cheeks and he smiles into the kiss.
When you finally pull apart for breath, you press your forehead to his neck with a happy sigh.
Your newfound husband grabs your hand and slides the ring onto your fourth finger.
"I love you, baby girl," he murmurs, turning his attention to Salve who pads over only to throw himself down on top of his stretched out legs.
"I love you too," you reply, closing your eyes and relishing in the comfortable night air.
Next Chapter ------>
Get Some Rest Taglist: @howlerwolfmaxx, @dunixxd, @daryldixonstorm, @shawtygonemad, @riverscyberwife, @gnocchey, @fuseburner, @lightning-butterfly, @inthewindsomeho, @rayneill
