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Love how Daryl "Forest Boy" Dixon can see a footprint, a broken branch and a random leaf on the floor and will tell you there was a fight involving three people, one struggled and two got away, the one who struggled had a green sweater on so that means the other two probably headed north.
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now let's all agree that Daryl's hairstyle from the initial seasons IS THE PEAK🐶🐶
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heyy dear, can you write some fluff with daryl and gf reader where glenn gets one of those polaroid cameras and start taking pictures of everyone at the prison, and when he checked the photos he noticed that daryl is lovingly gazing at reader in all the photos they appear together? even when glenn or carol starts teasing daryl about it he still ask glenn if he can keep them🥰
Picture perfect
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader
Masterlist | Who am i? | REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
a/n: here goes another extra fic this week. I swear it won't always be like this but i have far too much free time and i don't know what else to do with myself.
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: none.
Era: Season 4
Word count: 0.9k
“You’re gonna run out of Polaroids,” Carol said with a smirk, arms crossed as she leaned over Glenn, who was hunched at a table like it was a science project.
He didn’t look up, just grinned. “Already did. Totally worth it, though…look at this.”
He fanned out a handful of glossy squares, all slightly curled and sun-warmed. Carol leaned in, her expression curious until she saw it. You and Daryl, in nearly every shot but the focus wasn’t on the two of you smiling. In most, you were doing something completely ordinary…laughing with Maggie, cleaning your knife or merely walking next to the others, but in every single one, Daryl was looking at you, really looking. Unfiltered, soft-eyed and completely unaware of the camera. Sometimes he was in the background, sometimes next to you but never not watching.
Carol blinked and looked up. “What am I supposed to be seeing here?”
Glenn smirked like a kid holding a secret. “Blackmail, Carol, gold-tier. I'm talking ‘Dixon blushing’ level ammo.”
Carol laughed. “Oh, no. You don’t wanna play that game, Glenn.”
“Oh but I do. He stole my candy bar last week, this is divine justice.”
Despite her warnings, when Daryl finally rode back from his run that afternoon, Glenn was already posted up by the third gate like he was waiting to serve papers.
Daryl climbed off his bike with dust and grime smudging his neck and arms and his crossbow still strapped to his back. He dropped his bag onto the seat and looked around, automatically searching for you.
“Looking for someone?” Glenn teased, a grin stretching on his face.
Daryl scowled. “You know where she’s at?”
“Depends. How bad do you want to know?” He paused. “That hatchet you got there’s pretty sweet,” Glenn said with a sly grin, nodding at the weapon strapped to Daryl’s bike.
Daryl squinted, suspicious. “Ain’t for you.”
“It is now,” Glenn smirked, pulling a single photo from his pocket like it was top-secret intel. He glanced around dramatically before flashing it.
The archer looked down at it, then let out a low scoff, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Think she dun know I look at’er like tha’?” he muttered, tapping two fingers against Glenn’s temple once, snatched the photo and then, thwap!, he flicked Glenn’s ear, muttering “You creepin’ on me now?”
“Ow! What was that for?!” Glenn hissed. “You’re the one gazin’ like a lovesick outlaw.”
“Ain’t news to her, dumbass. Now, move.”
Grumbling, Glenn backed off but a few steps away, Daryl’s voice called after him. “Hey, Glenn!”
He turned. Daryl just stretched his hand out and Glenn sighed like he’d just lost a poker game, face falling. “All of them?”
“All of ’em.”
A second later, a stack of photos landed in Daryl’s palm, photos he quickly tucked into his bag without another word, meaning to look at them more closely later.
The sun warmed your skin as you approached the scene, steps slowing as Glenn passed you on his way back inside, rubbing his ear with a crooked smile.
“Hey…” you said, brow raised.
“Hey,” he muttered, shooting a sheepish glance over his shoulder at Daryl. “He’s all yours.”
“Right...” You frowned confused, then turned toward Daryl with that big smile he always pulled out of you. “Hi, handsome.”
He glanced up, immediately straightening a little, lips twitching upwards as he hid something behind his back. “Hey.”
“What was that about?” you asked, motioning toward the way Glenn had gone.
Daryl shrugged. “Kid’s troubled.”
“And you’re not?”
He smirked, still holding something behind him. “Maybe, but ya like it.”
“That I do,” you grinned, stepping closer. “Now, what are you hiding?”
With a little grunt, Daryl pulled two leather-bound journals from behind his back. One was your favorite color and unsurprisingly, it made the gift all the more meaningful. Your jaw dropped.
“Are you gonna start journaling with me?” You asked excitedly, taking them both from his hands.
Daryl scratched the back of his neck, glancing down like it was no big deal. “Kinda tired of watchin’ ya do it alone before bed. Even started wonderin’ if ya got a secret crush or somethin’.”
You wrapped your arms around him, laughing softly into his shoulder. “It’s you, so not very secret.” He hugged you back then, gentle and a little awkward, like always…exactly in that way you loved.
“Ya gotta teach me what t’ write, tho’, or it’s gonna turn into sum’ creepy book ‘bout ya.”
You pulled back with a giggle. “Doesn’t sound awful”
“Really doesn’t.” He reached out to gently squeeze your side, making you yelp and bat his hand away, but the more you looked at him, the more you could tell he was still hiding something.
“So…what’d Glenn give you?” you asked, poking at his bag with the journals.
Daryl hesitated for a beat before pulling out the photos, thumbing through them like they were old keepsakes. “Journaling material, ‘cause he’s nice like tha’” he said.
“The…troubled kid” You repeated in the same tone he had used.
“Mhm, the one.” He pointed at the pictures now in your hands, “For scrapbookin’. That wha’ ya call it?”
You smiled and nudged his arm teasingly. “Look at you, already learning and collecting.”
“Kinda fell into my hands,” he mumbled.
“Uh huh. I’m sure it did.”
You watched him a second longer, your heart fluttering as he carefully took the photos and tucked them into his vest’s inner pocket, like they were precious.
“You always look at me like that?” you asked, pointing at where the pictures were now carefully kept.
He shrugged looking away, ears already a faint pink. “Nah. Just when yer breathin’.”
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Manifesting he gets a REAL happy ending. Would be nice that he finds Rick but it’d be even more nice if he gets a real ending, like, he’s finally happy and not fighting for his life? Maybe with someone that doesn’t die and loves him.
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