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Y/N: If they had kidnapped me, you would’ve rescued me, right?

Daryl: Obviously.

Y/N: Aw, that’s so—

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Y/N: What would you do if another guy flirted with me?

Daryl: Depends.

Y/N: On what?

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Y/N: You know, most men have cute pet names for their girlfriends.

Daryl: I do.

Y/N: You do?

Daryl: Yeah.

Y/N: What do you call me?

Daryl: Trouble.

Y/N: That’s not a pet name.

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Y/N: You don’t have to keep checking on me, Daryl.

Daryl: Pfft. Wasn’t checkin’ on ya.

Y/N: Then why are you standing there?

Daryl: Makin’ sure y’ain’t dead.

Y/N, smiling: That’s literally the definition of checking on me.

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

Rick: Listen, Daryl, I—

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

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

Daryl, immediately: Alright.

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

Everyone: …

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

Y/N, from down the hall: Daryl!

Toddler Dixon, making grabby hands: Up, dada.

Daryl, immediately lifting him onto his hip: Hey, lil’ man.

Toddler Dixon: Down.

Daryl, placing him back down on chunky little legs: Alright then.

Toddler Dixon, arms out: Up.

Daryl, sighing and picking him up: ...

Toddler Dixon: Down.

Daryl, defeated: You’re playin’ games with a tired man, kid.

Toddler Dixon: Up.

Daryl, giving up and just plopping down onto the floor: You’re killin’ me.

Toddler Dixon, growling: Me walker.

Daryl: Just as dangerous.

Y/N, walking in to find Daryl on his back with Toddler Dixon gnawing on his arm: Do I even wanna know?

Daryl, narrowing his eyes at the sudden silence: Kid?

Toddler Dixon, giggling after a loud crash: Dada.

Daryl: There she is.

-A few hours later-

Y/N, opening the door: I’m home! How’d things—oh.

Daryl, holding Toddler Dixon up by the ankle while she giggles hysterically: Need a break. Gonna go find a herd.

Y/N, trying not to laugh: Oh? Why’s that?