Shotgun Wedding (Daryl Dixon/Reader)
Drabble: Daryl proposes with a ring he made from a shotgun shell.
A/N This was a drabble commission from someone over at Wattpad. I absolutely fell in love with this idea. Thank you!
The box was small and wooden.
Daryl finally parted with it, handing it over shyly - and you didn’t miss the splinters he had buried in his fingers.
Though, when you took it from him, the box was smooth - as though it had been thoroughly sanded down. You cracked it open, hearing the faint, fresh squeak of the hinges.
It was a ring, but not like any you’d ever seen before.
The band was a goldish colour - simple and solid. There were no sparkling decorations, nor diamonds that made you squint if you looked at them too long. Instead, it was engraved around the edges. The letters had been smoothed down, but they were still preserved well enough for you to figure them out.
It had been a shotgun shell, you realised, and looked up at the man expectantly.
“You made this?” you asked, thumbing over the words.
Daryl nodded, before looking down at his feet.
That man must have the most interesting pair of boots in the world, you thought.
Even proposing to you, he still shuffled about nervously - like he’d already convinced himself that you would say no.
“Had plenty nuts an’ bolts lyin’ ‘round,” he mumbled, “so I tried ‘em first.”
Daryl finally glanced upwards to inspect the ring, narrowing his eyes at it like he was trying to pick a fault in his work.
“But they were too damn clunky,” he explained, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t look right on ya.”
So that’s what he’d been doing back then.
A week ago, you’d stumbled across Daryl on his hands and knees, collecting little rivets and other metal parts that had spilled out onto the floor. It had been quite a spectacle - watching that bulky man squint at the stone tiles.
He’d barked at you to leave the room, but the image was still etched into your mind, like those pressed letters on that ring.
“Then I saw the shotgun shells,” Daryl continued, raising an eyebrow at the grin starting to form on your face.
You took the ring out of the box, feeling the weight of it.
“Rick tol’ me ya wouldn’t like it,” Daryl mumbled, already making his nervous excuses. “I know it ain’t what most girls dream of, but I couldn’t find nothin’ else out on runs.”
Immediately, you shook your head and smiled up at the man - making sure that he didn’t have time to look down again.
“It seems Rick doesn’t know me that well,” you teased, placing a gentle kiss on Daryl’s cheek - and feeling the prickle of his unkempt beard as you did. “I love it.”
Then, he helped slip the ring onto your finger - and you couldn’t help but feel guilty at the sight of his calloused hands gently holding onto your unmarred ones.
That man had a bad habit of always putting you first.
Yet, his efforts showed. The band fit perfectly, and caught the light prettily - the letters making it fragment into little speckles that dotted the walls.
You lifted your hand, now decorated with a former shell, and pointed two fingers out - so that they made the shape of a gun.
“Bang!” you laughed, shooting Daryl in the chest.
He sighed, before playing along and pretending to stumble backwards.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, “shot me straight through the heart. I know all yer shitty jokes by now.”
Daryl took a hold of your hand, and pulled you closer to him, so that your chest was flush to his. You rested your palm flat over his heart - still beating strongly despite the bullet wound - and grinned up at him.
“And you love them!” you declared, with certainty.
You could see it in his eyes.
But Daryl just shook his head, lifting your hand up to inspect the ring once more.
“Nah, I love you,” he replied, “so I jus’ put up with ‘em.”
You let your fingers interlock with his, tightly so that he couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to.
But his expression made you think that he’d never want to.
“Until death do us part,” you smiled, and he smiled back.
