If she gets hurt,
If she dies,
If she catches a fever,
If she gets taken out by a walker...
She gets hit by lightning
Anything... anything happens to her, I'll kill you.
Hey!! I really REALLY love your girl dad Daryl series and I thought maybe I could request something :) Imagine Daryl building a doll house or something (maybe a cute little mini motorcycle) for his daughter I can totally see him doing something like that it’s all I can think about when I see this picture. He would totally get the materials from one of his supply runs because I headcanon that everytime he brings something for his daughter (like a doll or something)
His Motorcycle Princess | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Summary: When his daughter was born, Daryl swore to himself that he'd do everything in his power to ensure that she remained happy at all costs. So when she asked for her very own motorcycle, who was he to deny her that?
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc (the bridge exploding doesn't happen, so Daryl never goes looking for Rick and he's happily living in Alexandria).
Warnings: Swearing, slight suggestive talk.
Word count: 1.3k.
A/n: Okay but why can't Daryl be the father of my future kids? He'd be the best dad ever. All jokes aside, I hope you like this!
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“Daryl, may I ask what the fuck that is?” you asked in surprise at at the sight before you, folding your arms over your chest.
Daryl looked up from his workbench, his ocean coloured eyes meeting your eyes before glancing back down at the big pink object in front of him. “S'a toy bike,” he stated plainly, patting the toy for added effect.
“Okay,” you drawled, nodding your head slowly. “But... Why?”
“S'fer Hazel,” he explained, picking up a screwdriver and resuming his task of assembling the toy motorcycle. “She asked fer a bike like mine, but obviously I ain't 'bout to assemble a real one fer a five year old, so I got this instead.”
You walked down the steps into the garage and walked over to your husband, standing slightly behind him as you watched him tighten the screws of the toy. “Where'd you even get this?”
“I was lucky 'nough to find a toy store tha' was left relatively untouched. Found this hidin' behind one of the shelves,” he explained, glancing over to you and nervously gulping at the close proximity. It amazed him that even after so many years together, you still managed to make butterflies erupt in his stomach.
“Aah, okay,” you nodded, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hazel is gonna freak out over this. This is gonna be her new favourite thing in the world.”
“Ya really think so?” Daryl asked, looking at you hopefully.
You smiled softly at him. There was lot of things people could say about the archer. People who didn't know him personally would call him rude, obnoxious and cold. Those who knew better would call him loyal, determined and caring. When it came to you, there was a lot you could say about your beautiful husband. He was kind, caring, loving, considerate, observant, and so much more. And you could also proudly say that Daryl was an amazing dad. Nobody was perfect and the archer had his moments that he wasn't proud of, but all in all, there was no denying that Daryl would do anything for your daughter.
“I know she'll love it,” you reassured him, wrapping your arms around him from behind and resting your chin on his shoulder. “You could bring her a painted rock and she'd love it. As long as it's from you, she doesn't care.”
“Nah, she hated tha' bunny I brought back fer her,” he replied, closing his eyes at the warm, soft feeling of you pressed against his back.
“It's only because it was covered in walker blood,” you explained. “After I washed it, she wouldn't let the thing go.”
Daryl couldn't deny that. The aforementioned toy had been a proud edition to Hazel's stuffed animal collection for two years at that point. She loved that bunny more than anything, favouring it to join her when she played tea parties with you and Daryl. It made the archer's heart swell with love, just knowing that his daughter appreciated what he did for her made everything worth it. All the battles he fought, all the blood that was shed, it was all worth it in the end. His wife and his daughter were safe, and he'd never been happier in his life than he was in those moments in the small home you shared in Alexandria.
With you still firmly pressed against his back, he got back to work. The toy was almost done; he only had a few finishing touches he had to do. Admittedly, it was a little harder to do so with you pressed against him from behind, but he refused to ask you to move. He'd much rather work on the toy for a few extra minutes than lose the comfort your mere touch brought him.
You watched his hands intently, your mind unwillingly wandering to a place that wasn't needed at that moment. However, you couldn't help it, the knowledge of what those hardworking hands could do in other activities taking over your senses.
“You know, this gives me deja vu,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Yeah? How so?” Daryl asked, tightening the last screw into the toy.
“Remember back when you were building your own bike five years ago?” you asked, continuing when he nodded. “Seeing you hard at work, doing something you were skilled at really did something to me. It was because you were building your bike that we even have a kid at all now. And now you're building a motorcycle for our kid.”
Daryl chuckled at the memory. “Never knew grease could turn ya on like tha' until then.”
“When it's on my handsome husband's hands? You best believe it does.”
Daryl turned around and wrapped his arms around you, staring down at you lovingly. “And now we have our own kid.”
“Our own little family,” you agreed, smiling up at him. “I love you, Dar.”
“Love ya too, peach.”
“Mama! Daddy!”
Before Daryl could lean down and capture your lips in his for a kiss, your daughter bounded down the steps. The two of you sent each other an amused look, reluctantly pulling apart. Hazel came over to Daryl and held her hands up in a silent plea to be picked up, and the archer complied.
“Hey there, Hazelnut,” Daryl greeted her with a fond smile, placing a light kiss to the top of her head.
“Hi, Daddy,” she giggled, sending a wave at you. “Hi, Mama!”
“Hi, Baby,” you chuckled, walking over to rub her hair affectionately. “Did you have a good nap?”
“Yeah! I'm ready to play now!” she exclaimed happily, a toothy smile on display.
“Well, how 'bout ya and I race our bikes?” Daryl questioned, capturing Hazel's attention.
“But Daddy, only you have a bike.”
“Not anymore,” you said in a playful tone, sharing an excited glance with the archer. “Daddy got you something.”
Daryl turned around with her in his arms and showed her the bright pink toy motorcycle. Hazel let out a surprised gasp before laughing in excitement, throwing her arms around Daryl's neck and hugging him as tightly as she could.
“Thank you, Daddy! Thank you! Thank you!” she exclaimed in excitement.
Daryl chuckled fondly and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. “Yer welcome, Hazelnut.”
“Now I can be like you!” she giggled, wiggling slightly to be put down. When she was, she ran over to the workbench and stared in awe at the toy.
“Yeah,” you agreed, walking over to her to ensure she didn't accidentally hurt herself with the tools that were still on the workbench. “You just need your own crossbow now.”
Hazel gasped in delight and turned to Daryl. “Daddy, can I get a crossbow?”
“'Course ya can. How else would ya help me on my hunts?”
“Yay!” Hazel happily clapped her hands. “Mama, I'm getting a crossbow!”
Daryl smiled and walked over to the two of you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and playfully ruffling Hazel's hair. He chuckled at the giggle she let out, feeling content and comfortable as he listened to Hazel's babbling as she regarded over all the places she would go with her very own motorcycle, even to the moon. There was nothing better in his life than moments like these. This was what he fought for. And he would do it all over again if it meant keeping the two most important people in his life safe.
Because without you, his beautiful wife, and Hazel, your perfect daughter, his life would never be the same.
Cleansing The Mind, The Soul And The Body | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
*GIF credits to @reedusmcbridedaily.*
Summary: Getting Daryl to take a shower or a bath when he wasn't in the mood was never easy. It took a lot of skillful convincing and even some bribery. Luckily, as his wife, all it took was a batting of your eyelashes and he was putty in your hands—and you took this to your advantage.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Alexandria; post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse, Daryl's scars.
Word count: 1.6k
A/n: A fic born from this idea by @louifaith. Hope you like this! This was originally supposed to be a 500 word blurb but I got carried away lol.
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The sun was almost completely gone from the sky. The first stars of the night sky were twinkling brightly outside the window of the bathroom in your shared home with Daryl, and the calming, cool breeze was flowing in through the slightly open window. The water was starting to fill up the bathtub, and you meticulously added just enough bubble bath liquid you had found on a run a few weeks prior.
Behind you, Daryl was reluctantly slowly undressing himself, carelessly tossing his shirt into the laundry hamper. He was grumbling to himself under his breath, making you laugh lightly.
“Whatever you want to say, you can say it to my face, Dixon,” you joked, turning the faucet off and turning around to face your half naked husband.
Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nothin',” he answered, slowly stepping out of his jeans and boxers and walking over to the bathtub and settling into the bubbly water. “Let's just get this fuckin' over with already.”
You chuckled affectionately, settling onto your knees beside the bathtub and bringing a hand up to brush through his hair. Even though the archer didn't admit it, the warm water of the bathtub was soothing the aches in his body. And your soft hand gently threading through his hair had him practically melting into the water. Despite originally being against the idea of having you bathe him, insisting that he wasn't a little kid and he didn't need someone cleaning him, if he was already so content with just your hand in his hair, he didn't even want to know how relaxed he'd feel if you were to gently wash him.
Daryl subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out a small, content sigh, eliciting a light laugh from you. “Relaxed? I thought you didn't want this. Didn't you say that you "didn't need to be babied" and that "this would be a waste of time"?”
Daryl grumbled under his breath, lightly swatting your hand away. “Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to hide how his lips twitched up into a smile.
You giggled and leaned over the bathtub, catching his lips for a quick, tender kiss, before pulling away again. “Okay, handsome. What first? Body or hair?”
“Hair,” Daryl replied slowly, suddenly feeling hyper aware of the fact that he was naked and vulnerable in front of your eyes.
You nodded and carefully got to work on his hair, wetting it and carefully applying shampoo, working it into his hair while lightly scratching his scalp. “I love your hair. Long hair really suits you.”
“Yeah?” he asked, looking at you.
“Yeah. It compliments your features perfectly. I love it.”
Daryl closed his eyes and basked in the caring, loving moment. However, he couldn't help the nervousness that creeped up on him. The scars on his body were on full display, but luckily the ones on his back were hidden from your view for now. He chastised himself for feeling so insecure about his scars—you were his partner for two years before you became his wife a couple of months prior, and a loyal companion and friend for two years before that, dating all the way back to the quarry. You were well aware of his scars and about his father's abuse, and always worshipped him and reassured him that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn't stop his insecurity from creeping up from time to time.
And what should've been a loving, tender moment could potentially be ruined by his insecurity.
While applying the conditioner to his hair, you noticed his now opened eyes staring ahead at the wall, his eyebrows furrowed together as he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest, right over his scars. You instantly knew what was going through his mind, and you took it on yourself to lift his spirits.
You gently cupped his cheek with one of your hands, prompting him to look at you. His beautiful, ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and you could clearly see the turmoil within their beautiful depths. It made your heart ache to know that someone caused the man you loved so much harm. If his father was still alive, Daryl wouldn't have had to worry about a confrontation with him. No, you would've given the man a taste of his own cruel medicine and after that, you would've killed him.
“Baby,” you whispered softly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Daryl could feel a blush creep up onto his cheeks. He scoffed and ducked his head, letting his wet hair fall in front of his eyes. “Stop,” he mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept up onto his face.
You giggled and tucked his hair behind his ears. “You are! You're so beautiful, Daryl. I can't believe how lucky I got with you. I won't be surprised if every woman here has a crush on you. Well, except Tara, but other than her...”
“Nah,” he denied and shook his head in disagreement. “Ain't no woman who would give me the time of day 'cept ya. 'Sides, even if there were, I ain't need no other woman. I already have the perfect one.”
You smiled and leaned over for another kiss, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You pulled back with a soft laugh, admiring the man who you'd come to love above everything else.
“And you swear on your life that you're not a romantic. That last line was smooth, Dixon,” you mused, grabbing the soap bar that smelled like lavender and turned back to the archer. “Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to his body.
Daryl's heart swelled at your thoughtfulness. You never wanted to do something that would make him uncomfortable, and he appreciated you for that. Nobody understood him quite like you did.
“Yeah, s'fine,” he replied with a nod, pushing that nagging voice in the back of his mind away. You loved him, every part of him. If you didn't, you would've run for the hills a long time ago. You weren't freaked out by his scars. You loved him for him, scars and all, and he'd be damned if he let his self deprecating thoughts ruin a good, loving moment.
The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes while you continued to wash his body. However, when he slowly sat forward so that you could wash his back, you broke the serene silence with your loving, soft whispers.
“You're so strong, Dar,” you whispered, gently tracing your soapy fingers over his scars. An involuntary shiver traveled across Daryl's spine, eliciting a small giggle from you. “You're a warrior. You've been fighting to live the life you deserve even before the dead started rising. You've been surviving for far longer than most of us. That makes you so fucking brave, baby. And I know you don't feel like it, but you deserved to be loved, and you are loved. Rick loves you. Michonne loves you. Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Aaron, all of them. But I can assure you, nobody loves you as much as I do. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you. I'd do anything for you.”
Daryl inhaled sharply. He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to go away. Hearing that from you was exactly what he needed in that moment. He knew it would be a long journey for him until he actually believed he was worthy of love, worthy of your love, but with you by his side, he knew he'd get there eventually.
“I love ya,” he whispered, staring into your eyes to let you know he meant it. He truly did love you. Nothing could ever change that.
“I love you too,” you answered with a smile, gently rinsing the soap from his back before grabbing the handheld showerhead and instructing him to lean his head back. You carefully rinsed the conditioner from his hair, bringing an end to the bath time.
You grabbed a towel and shook it out, using it to dry your husband. He looked at you in amusement but allowed you to do so, not-so-secretly enjoying the attention you were giving him. You then grabbed the fresh pair of boxers and handed it to him, as well as a pair of flannel pants. He got dressed in them and turned back at you.
“Lift your arms,” you instructed, watching the man lift an eyebrow at you but complying nonetheless. You helped him slip his shirt on, and after he was dressed, you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his clothed chest.
Daryl wasted no time in returning the hug. He tightly wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. He gently rocked you from side to side.
“Dar?” you whispered, catching his attention.
“Hm?”
“Do you wanna cuddle?”
“Mhm.”
“You wanna be the little spoon?” you asked, giggling as Daryl's arms tightened around you. You already knew what the answer was without him having to say anything. “C'mon. Let's go to bed, handsome.”
“I can’t leave ya alone for one minute, can I?” Daryl said, stopping the doorway and looking in at you.
“Who? Me?” you asked, playing dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you laughed. You leaned down and ruffled Dog’s thick fur. He was laying across the bottom of the bed, his head resting between his paws, his ears on alert.
“Ya know he ain’t allowed on the bed. He’s filthy and he stinks,” Daryl drawled, coming into the room.
“Sometimes so do you,” you teased him. “And I still let you in the bed.”
Daryl shot you a look, but couldn’t fully suppress his amusement, especially with the grin that was plastered on your face. It was impossible to be sour when you were grinning at him like that. “Dog, get down,” he said, his tone demanding. Dog didn’t move. “Dog! Off! C'mon!”
The Malinois raised his head, but only blinked at Daryl.
“Sonofa—Dog! I said get down!”
You giggled and leaned forward to pet his soft ears and scratch under his chin. “I don’t know what you expected. You’re the one who trained him to protect me. He’s just doing his job and keeping guard,” you cooed, fussing over the good boy.
“Yeah, well he can do his job from the floor,” Daryl growled. “C'mon,” you said, seizing Dog by the collar and giving him the encouragement he needed to finally get onto the floor with a gentle tug.
Dog whine, but circled a few times and laid down on the rug.
Daryl shook his head, but the corners of his eyes were crinkled in a smile. “He’s damn near as stubborn as you,” he said, shooting you a look.
You flopped back on your pillow and adjusted the blankets. “I think you’re just jealous that you have to share my attention with him,” you joked.
“Am I that transparent?” Daryl laughed, climbing into bed beside you. “Damn,” he said softly, leaning over you and caging you beneath his body. “Ya figured it out…”
You stared up at him, wide-eyed, your whole body suddenly bursting with tingles. “Well, you’ve got me all to yourself now…”
Daryl brushed his fingers tenderly through your hair, giving you a heated look. “Damn right.”
Prompt: “I can’t leave you alone for one minute, can I?”
just-a-hardcore-simp-who-writes has stolen After the Bridge, a Daryl x reader story from @twdeadfanfic … AGAIN.
I got messaged about this today and I’m trying spread the word. Sadly, we need to work together to get this person off Tumblr and YouTube (where she reads these stories and claims as her own) and anywhere else.