#dary dixon/reader

[itsmeatballworld]

| it ends in heartbreak |

pairing | daryl dixon x f!reader

summary | you both knew he would break your heart. he couldn't help himself.

wc | 1400

warnings | cursing, sadness/heartbreak [aka the title]

a/n | I've had this in my drafts forever lol I forgot about this one! Also this is the first time I've ever written pure angst so go easy on me <3

You always knew this day would come.

There were signs pointing to the downfall of your relationship, signs you chose to ignore to enjoy the moments of happiness.

But the signs couldn’t be any clearer–it would never last. It couldn't.

It was the end of the world, for starters. Life was always in shambles. The group never stayed in one spot long enough. Even the prison wasn’t safe. With everything unstable, it should’ve been obvious this would happen, but you were naive to think you’d would be any different.

Because the reality was: this was always how it was supposed to end.

He was built on a fractured foundation. He set up walls and built his life around a broken base, worn down by his past that he couldn't escape. First, parents had cracked and hardened his outlook on life. Then his brother taught him he meant little to others by leaving him behind. Not once did he ever learn how to fix the ache in his heart.

Yet when he met you, things changed.

It was gradual. Pieces of him started to align and heal. The tough outer shell wasn't as indestructible as he first imagined. After some time he opened up and let you in.

But you both knew he would break your heart.

He couldn't help himself. It was in his nature to push back, to fight and wrangle away from anything that became too real. Too good.

But for the time being, you enjoyed the blissful moments of his affection.

When he kissed you goodnight it was over.

He lingered, almost as if he was allowing his lips to memorize the feeling of your skin on his. His fingers fell against your curves as you pressed into the cellblock’s cool cement wall. It was in these seconds of quiet where you both had a chance to breathe.

Pulling back, Daryl rested one arm above your head. He leaned in close, gazing sweetly down at you. His other hand slowly traveled to your face and Daryl’s thumb brushed against your bottom lip.

Without hesitating you whispered the words he never imagined hearing from you.

Love you.

There. Right there. You saw the spark in his bright blue eyes dim. The crystalline color washed away into a deep ocean blue. Rocky and turbulent. Daryl’s eyes were no longer filled with love, but rather, fear.

You lost him, right there, pressed against the concrete wall of Cellblock D.

This was destined to fail.

“Please don’t do this.”

“Have to.”

“No…no you don’t have to, Daryl.” Your chest tightened. It was like the air was on fire. No matter how deeply you breathed in and out, pain still resided in your chest. He was crippling you.

“Daryl–”

“Ain’t up for debate.” He stepped back, snatching his crossbow from the watchtower’s metal flooring.

Your hands fumbled to find your shirt, hating how he sprung this on you in the middle of the night. He didn't have patience to wait, apparently. Just break your heart and go, like it was nothing.

“I’m not trying to…I just…” you groaned. “What happened? Was it me? Did I do something?”

His eyes went wide. That scared, fearful expression washed over him once again.

Fuck, you squeezed your eyes shut. That was it. That look. It was just like the other night. When those stupid words stumbled out of your mouth, falling to the ground at Daryl’s feet. Just before he crushed them with his silence.

“Was it something I said?”

He didn't answer and his silence (unlike most nights) wasn't good enough. You needed answers.

“So that’s it then. You say ‘I’m done’ and leave before sunrise?”

The broody man fought to glance in your direction. Instead, he focused out towards the tree-line. He grabbed onto the windowsill and squeezed so tightly that the white of his knuckles appeared. But his tactics to avoid the conversation at hand weren’t getting past you tonight.

You shot up from the floor. “Daryl.”

“I ain’t got time for this.”

“You fuck me, say we’re done, and leave? Like this was all nothing? Like we mean nothing to each other?”

Daryl paused. He turned to you with lips curled into a tight frown. Even in the darkness of the watchtower, through the bright white moonlight, his frustration was clear.

“I said ‘I love you’, Daryl.” There was a desperation behind your words. Your voice was so deeply distressing it made your chest ache. It was heavy and exhausting to display your feelings out to him in the middle of the night. But you wanted more–deserved more–than a shitty ending to whatever you had with him.

“You think this is love?”

You gawked, “yes!”

He paced the small room like a caged animal ready to pounce.

You love this man.

“This ain’t love.”

You love this man. This jerk.

“Then what the fuck is this, Daryl? Tell me.” You paused, tears welling in your eyes but you refused to let them fall. “Fucking tell me!”

The shirt in your hands balled up tight around your closed fist. You were hurt. Everything about him was trouble and you let him in.

“I said ‘I love you’. I said it and now you’re pulling away.”

As he watched you, just for a moment, his eyes didn’t fill with fear or confusion. There was something there. Between the declarations, he looked apologetic. His blue eyes softened, letting the emotions he desperately tried to conceal slip past those walls he built back up.

“Well, shit! I’m sorry I said it. I fucked this up, didn’t I?” The gravel in your voice scratched your throat. Everything burned.

The apologetic stare turned pitiful. A deep scowl crossed his face and your heart sank. “Can’t mess it up when there was nothin’ here, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. It was so condescending as his drawl pulls at the syllables. That tightness in your chest balled into a pit of rage. Fire that burned you before ignited an anger inside.

You moved closer towards him. “You sleep with me every night. You kiss me before leaving on runs. When you think nobody’s looking, you hold my hand. We talk about our past. Our future. This is real, Daryl.”

“Nah.” He grabbed his belt, twisting it through the loops. “This ain’t real.”

Your fingers tightened on the fabric as you tugged the shirt on. “That’s not true—“

He huffed, staring out into the cloudy night sky. “You’re better off without me anyway.”

“Don’t. Don't say that. I’m not better off without you. I’d be worse.”

Daryl paused.

But the hurt and anger fueling your body didn’t stop. “So don’t make me feel crazy for falling in love with you. Like it was a choice? If I was fucking smart, I would’ve ran far away from you the second we met. But I didn’t. Because I saw you for more than the asshole you pretend to be. So excuse me for feeling blindsided by your decision to leave me.”

“Leave you?” He spat. “Get it through your head, girl. You ain’t mine! You’re just some bitch I screwed.”

The frogs croaking down by the creeks ceased to exist. Trees stopped rustling in the breeze. Crickets no longer sang under the stars. The world froze as his words were thrown at you with such haste. Like he didn’t think twice.

Your arms wrapped around your waist, tugging at the fabric clinging to your body.

He didn’t look back at you. His eyes seemed to drift anywhere but you like he couldn't face the fact that he said it out loud.

No, no. He doesn’t really think that…

Your voice cracked as the tears from earlier were not going to wait much longer. “Daryl–”

He turned on his heels and was out the door. Down the ladder, each step was louder than the last. You paused, bawling your fists as the tears finally spilled across your cheeks. Loud and heaving gasps, muddled together with hot tears.

He broke you down within seconds. The tears and sobs continued on for what felt like forever until you finally had a moment of rest. The tightness in your chest subsided, thankfully, but this was the easier part. Tomorrow will be harder when you’ll have to put on a fake smile, wipe away tears in the dark prison hallways, and avoid him.

Forget him. Forget him…right like it would be easy. It’ll be fucking impossible to forget him.

You wished you could hate him. But you don’t.

So for tonight, you let yourself feel the heartbreak and planned to stand taller tomorrow. Because in the end you knew it would never last.

But it didn't matter.

You loved that man.

Yet after everything, he might have been right. You weren't truly with him.

And maybe he never really cared for you at all.

-xx-

-xx-

a/n 2.0 | daryl PLEASEE {as if I didn't write him to act this way}

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #dary dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #y/n x daryl dixon #reader x daryl dixon #you x daryl dixon #angsty angst #sad reader and broken daryl #daryl twd #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl

[twd-l0ver]

Bloody and Grimy

Daryl x fem!reader

!fluff/angst season 4 prison era

"What are your thoughts on this?" you asked, turning to face Daryl and showing him a purple top. "Hmm, don' like it" he grumbled. "Well, I think it's cute and I'll just wear it at home," you replied smiling, trying to lighten the mood. "Then why yea' ask?" he mocked, mimicking your tone. "Hmm, I don't know," you shrugged. As you walked around, your eyes landed on a zipped-up, long-sleeve green shirt.

"Oh, baby, look at this!" you exclaimed, holding it up for Daryl to see. "Wha'?" he asked curiously. "Year' boobs will be... out" he pointed out. "Really? It's a zip-up anyway," you defended.

"Oh," Daryl sighed.

Grinning and shaking your head, you decided to search the area to see if you could find anything else. As you reached out to turn the doorknob of a storage closet, Daryl called out your name. Startled, you quickly turned around. As you made your way towards Daryl, you heard growls. Swiftly, you spun around to face four walkers. "Shit," you muttered under your breath. "Daryl, there are walkers!" you exclaimed loudly, hoping he would hear you.

You swiftly draw your knife from its holster, easily stabbing one walker in the head and forcefully pushing it back, causing another walker to fall. You focus on the two limping walkers closing in on you, you raised the knife to slash into the head of the one on my right.

However, the knife becomes lodged and unable to be removed. As the other walker continues to approach, you stop the attempt to retrieve the knife and search for an object to defend yourself. Unfortunately, you're unable to find anything around you.

The walker finally reaches you and leans its weight on you making you stumble down, you immediately extend your hand to keep it away from your face. You scan the area and notice the walker fall down in a swift, recognizing the arrow you know its Daryl.

Daryl quickly runs towards you forcing his knife into the walkers skull. The body collapses on you as you felt relieved. He rips the walkers body off of you, concerned, he quickly checked if you had any bites. "Are yea' okay, hun? Did yea' get bit?" he asked with worry. "Yes, I'm okay, and no, I didn't,'" you replied with a slight smile. He kissed your head and hugged you. "What about you? Are you okay?'"you mumbled into his chest. "Yeah, I am." You let go of the hug to retrieve your knife from the walker's head.

As you were about to wipe the blood residue on your pants, you noticed how dirty and grimy your shirt had become. "Ugh, my shirt is ruined," you dramatically sighed. "Really tha's wha' yer' worried abou' ".

Ignoring his remark about the situation that just happpend you remembered about the clothes you found. "Daryl, where are the clothes I found?'"

He looked at you with a questioning look then pointed to where you had initially been. As you searched through the pile of items, you found the shirt you were looking for. With a smile, you replaced the bloody and grimy shirt with the nice green one. Turning to face Daryl, you noticed his cheeks turning red. "Soooo, you likey?"

'Its nice but-' he pointed to your breasts. "Babe it's nothing I can jus-" "tk" looking at your hand there's the zipper. Before Daryl could say anything you walked up to him and kissed him "Let's go".

Not sure if I love this lol, hope you guys enjoyed!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon angst #dary dixon fluff #twd-l0ver

[sirensvcubus]

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Early season 5

Pure smut//One Shot//Short but sweet//

Daryl Dixon pulls you away from the group while everyones asleep in the forest huddled around the small fire. Daryl furiously kisses you pushing you against a tall tree the bark scratching your skin as he ripped apart your top. He kisses his way down your body as you pull down your pants he kisses your thighs and lower stomach teasing you as he presses his wet lips over your blue lace panties. He gets bellow you pulling them aside with his rough hands trailing up to your bra you hold onto his strong arms caressing them slowly. He holds onto your thighs so tight as he foes down on you. Your sure he’ll leave bruises of his large hands. When you get back early in the morning rick rubs his eyes and grins seeing you two sneak back to the now withering fire. Glenn rolls his eyes as he was on night patrol and you slither back into the comfy sleeping bag. Daryls warm body behind you holding you close kissing your neck before you both drift off.

#daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon smut #daryl #fanfic #smut #daryl dixion x reader #daryl / reader #fanfiction #daryl dixon #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd smut #the walking dead #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #dary dixon

[zvdvdlvr]

care (for you)

daryl dixon

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: "𝗂 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍. 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾"

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 [ 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍, 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇', 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 ], 𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, confessions!!!, possible ooc daryl? idk

𝐑𝐄𝐀��𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒: 𝗌𝗁𝖾/𝗁𝖾𝗋

{🫐}

daryl was in the building for once. the exhausted man sat rigid on the thin jail beds with his head in his hands. between making runs, watching little ass-kicker, and keeping watch outside, there was little time for daryl to do much- let alone sleep.

"hey D," y/n greeted quietly. she leaned against the wall, holding little judith in her arms.

"hey darlin'. what's up?" he asked, voice hoarse.

the woman shrugged. "Ain't nothin' goin' on today that's remotely interesting... thought i'd... thought i'd come see how you're doin'," she explained. "know you Ain't gettin' sleep."

daryl furrowed his brows. "yes i am."

y/n scoffed and looked down at judith after she let out a little whimper. playing with judith's tiny fingers, y/n looked up. "you know, i chose to worry about you, sweetheart. please let me."

biting his lip, daryl patted the space next to him. when y/n sat down and adjusted judith, she looked expectantly at daryl. "you know... i ain't good with this... communication stuff, sweet girl- you outta know that- but i... i like it when you gimme that look of yers and just... you just..."

with a shy smile, y/n pressed on. "what do i do, daryl?"

daryl threw his head back. "fuck! you do that, sweetheart! you care about me! yeh go 'round with little ass-kicker in yer arms and you call rick on his bullshit and yeh get me off my high horse and- fuck! i love that! i love... you. i think. i know i love you... and i- shit- i think i could fall in love with you," daryl ranted, eyes frantically searching y/n's, hands twisting together.

after he finished, daryl looked down. "fuck... i- i ain't mean to say that. i'm sorry sweetheart.''

his heart cracked further at her silence. daryl never had exposed himself like that- voluntarily made himself so vulnerable. he didn't like that feeling. the feeling of suspension in the air after a big ass bomb is dropped and person A is worried person B will shatter their hope, shatter their soul. step on their body and crush their spirit. daryl spiraled. not often, but this was one of those moments.

but then his thoughts stopped as a hand turned his face. her warm, caring hand tilted his face to look at hers. "i know i love you too," she murmured.

flabberghasted, daryl felt his jaw loosen and eyes widened. he looked desperately between her lips and eyes, hoping she'd get the message and make a move. daryl couldn't overstep- couldn't make a wrong move now and scare her away. no, y/n meant too much to daryl, and if he scared her away, he couldn't live with himself.

"you gonna kiss me or not?"

daryl leaned foward and desperately grasped at y/n. their lips intertwined and their teeth knocked. little grunts fell from daryl's lips and synchronized flawless with y/n's quiet groans.

daryl's hands flew to y/n's neck. desperately holding on to her, as if she'd disappear if he looked away. this was too great: the 'i love you's, the hot and havy make out session, the quiet moaning.

an abrupt cry split the two apart.

"hey baby," y/n cooed, as if daryl's togue wasn't just down her throat. at her restless cry, y/n frowned. "i know, sweet heart. you're hungry, ain't'cha?"

daryl chuckled and let his hand move from y/n's neck to her lips. with his thumb, daryl brushed the plush part of her bottom lip and watched, starstruck, as y/n looked back up at him eith that beautiful smile. "i meant that, D," she spoke. after pressing a small kiss to his lips, y/n stood up. disregarding judith's fussy noises, y/n went on, "let me care for you. please."

and with that, daryl was suddenly left alone was his nasty thoughts and the memory of her lips on his.

#daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #dary dixon smut #x reader #female reader #x female reader #fluff #twd x reader #twd x y/n #twd x you #twd #jules writes 📓 🖊 #jules writes 📓🖊 #the walking dead #amc the walking dead #amc #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #x black reader #daryl dixon x plus size reader #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon x black!reader #daryl x reader #norman reedus imagines #daryl dixon imagine #slay

[hopefulatrocity]

From The Ashes Prologue

Gif credit: hellodollfac3.tumblr.com

Note: This prologue hasn’t been proofread, if you find any mistakes let me know please! I’m looking for someone who might be willing to beta read the story if at all possible. Also, this story is going along with my experiences as a trans guy. Everyone’s transition is different. For me, I have little bottom dysphoria, so I use typical terms for AFAB genitalia when writing smut between my oc and Daryl. I also chose not to use HRT, which is how I wrote Pheonyx as well. In regards to passing, I write sometimes about Nyx having some more “feminine” aspects to his appearance, because this is an issue I have with passing in public. If any of these things are a trigger for you, please proceed at your own risk. Take care of yourselves, lovelies! Remember, every trans person transitions differently and I’m simply trying to portray my experiences as a trans guy.

If you would like to be added to a taglist for this story, please let me know!

Summary: Pheonyx Greene is the oldest of the Greene siblings. He’s always been different than the rest of his family; having endured abuse from his biological father as a kid and growing up as bisexual/transgender in conservative rural Georgia. He loves his family but the past has made him weary of strangers and love. He finds himself on the family farm recovering from top surgery when the world falls apart. As the dead begin to rise, Pheonyx finds himself becoming the sole protector of the farm as his family lives in denial about the Shadows of loved ones past. His life is changed the day Rick Grimes shows up on the farm, and shortly after a certain gruff archer as well. Daryl is drawn to younger man but how does he deal with the internal prejudices he’s grown up with? As the search for Sophia ensues, Daryl is forced to group up with Pheonyx. Will he push him away? Or will Daryl allow himself to put the past aside and let Pheonyx in? 

Series Trigger/content warning: Homophobia/transphobia/biphobia, zenophobia/racism/sexism(Merle), age gap romance(11yr difference. Pheonyx is 28, Daryl is 39 ), sexual assault/rape, child molestation, canon character deaths, body mutilation, child abuse, torture, hunting, smut 18+( P in V, unprotected sex(please practice safe sex!), creampie, breeding kink, rough sex, marking/biting, oral sex, sub/dom undertones), animal deaths, scars, blood, corpses, depression/anxiety, body dysphoria, religious trauma, menstruation mentions

Chapter Content Warnings: Transphobia/biphobia, religious trauma, child abuse, depression/anxiety, childhood molestation, self harm/suicidal thoughts, puberty, bullying, menstruation talk, body dysphoria, sexism 

Next Chapter

Pheonyx Greene spent the majority of his childhood hiding. So much so, it became second nature to him. 

From the day he was born to the age of 8, he hid from his father’s fists and hateful words that he didn’t understand. Words he wouldn’t understand for years to come. Bruises and lashes were concealed behind baggy clothes. Practiced smiles and rigorous play with neighborhood kids disguising the pain of every movement. His mother, Annette, would stare at him with guilt. Guilt for not having seen the abuse for 5 years, not wanting to see what was going on when she wasn’t home. Guilt for not noticing the flinches at innocent touch. And guilt for letting it continue as she worked to pull away from the monster that held them under his thumb. She never spoke of it to Pheonyx. Simply holding him after each “punishment”, silently cleaning his wounds and wiping his tears. That silence hurt worse than the switch on his back. His eyes begged for just a word from his mother. Something to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That she was there for him or that she was going to do something to protect him. But those words never came. Annette gave birth to his brother, Shawn, when he was 6. 2 years later, they finally escape Pheonyx’s hell. The scars littering his body and the night terrors were always a reminder that he never fully escaped, though. 

At 8, Pheonyx no longer had to hide from his father, but he had to hide from other things. Schoolyard bullies tormented him. They asked him why he only wore jeans and long sleeves? Why did he play with boys instead of the “other girls”? Why did he cut his hair short using the scissors in art class? Why did he roll around in the mud while the girls were playing House on the other side of the playground? They would pull his pants down in the cafeteria, laughing about checking to see if he was a boy or a girl. It confused him. Why did it matter? Couldn’t he just be himself? But apparently it did matter. He would spend his entire schooling years, hiding from those bullies. 

     At 9, his mother married his stepfather, Hershel. He was a nice man. Much older than his mom, but he accepted and adopted, both Pheonyx and Shawn. He had a daughter, only a year younger than Shawn who had just turned three, named Maggie. Her mother died shortly after giving birth to her. While devastated about the death of his late wife, Hershel was strong and took on the role of a single father. He and Annette met at the local grocery store. A wailing Maggie in his arms, Hershel was trying to find the right formula product for his growing daughter. Annette was a godsend, taking Maggie and calming her before helping the man find the correct food for his daughter. They exchanged numbers and were married not many months later. The way Pheonyx’s stepfather tells the story, the older man fell for Annette the second she held Maggie in her arms.  

    Hershel was a good father to both Maggie and his stepsons. But Pheonyx was weary of the man at first. His only father figure was a devil of a man and the young boy waited for months for the other shoe to drop. It never did though. He would purposely break dishes or get bad grades at school, just trying to see what would be the final straw before his step father finally punished him. But aside from a small scolding and increased chores for his bad grades, Pheonyx was left unharmed. Hershel was kind and he treated his step children as if they were his own. He would often take the boys on house calls with him, whether it be helping birth a newborn calf or checking a swollen ankle on a neighbor’s gelding. Pheonyx loved the animals and looked forward to any time he could spend helping Hershel with his duties as a veterinarian.  The only thing Pheonyx hated about the man was how devout Hershel was. Pheonyx went from never going to church, to going every Sunday and Wednesday. Plus attending all holiday functions, youth group trips, and bible camps. He had lived in true hell for 8 years. The Christian version seemed like child's play compared to his father’s belt. It was at the church he also had to hide. Hide from the side eyed glances of older neighbors. Hide from the whispers wondering why he refused to wear a dress or why he didn’t act like a “proper young lady”. He had to lie when his mother asked why he didn’t want to attend Sunday School with Shawn and Maggie. He couldn’t explain that the teacher looked at him with evil eyes. That the man’s hands were cold as he slipped them under Pheonyx’s button up blouse. That the touches made him feel worse than when his father would make him kneel and count the lashes. 

When Pheonyx hit puberty, around the time his half sister(Beth) was born, he began to hide within himself. How did he explain to his mother and stepfather that the sight of his budding breasts made him want to claw his own skin off? How did he explain that when he got his first period, he contemplated taking all of his mother’s antidepressants and putting an end to the feeling of wrongness in his body?  How did he explain that everytime someone called him “miss”, “sweetheart”, or “girl”, he felt physically sick? What would he say when his mom knew that he kissed Caroline Allen under the maple tree at school? That same week he also kissed Jeremy Mason by the soccer field. Both of those kisses made his stomach flutter in ways it only should with a boy.  The preacher that previous Sunday had told them that any desire for people of the same sex was the ultimate sin. How did he explain to his mother and stepfather that, in their beliefs, he was destined to go to hell? He couldn’t. So he hid everything. The depression from not feeling at home in his body and from not being able to be himself at home. The anxiety of not fitting in with southern conservative values. The disgust with his own appearance as he let his hair grow and wore dresses to get his mom to smile. The weight of it all became too much. 

Maggie found him one day, crying in the barn, a razor held to his wrist. The 20 yr old thought Maggie would be mad, but she wasn’t. At just 13, the girl was wiser than most adults. She had seen her sibling struggling. She didn’t understand it, but she listened as Pheonyx explained what was wrong. Maggie held him as he cried and led him to the house. There, she helped Pheonyx cut his hair. The cut was jagged and patchy, as all they had were some dull kitchen scissors, but he loved it. She called him her brother and it felt like the cloud of depression and anxiety disappeared for a short amount of time. It was the first time Pheonyx felt truly accepted. That night, Maggie held Pheonyx’s hand as he told their parents and siblings everything. Beth was mostly too young to understand and Shawn was just confused. As were Annette and Hershel. They tried to tell him it was just a phase and that it was normal to be confused at such a young age. They refused to even consider the possibility of him being a boy. Of God having made a mistake when he was forming the child’s body. Despite their non acceptance, Pheonyx felt freer than he ever had. He had been working for 5 years at local horse stables and also as an assistant for Hershel at his clinic, so he used his savings to buy more masculine clothing. Maggie was the one who suggested the name “Pheonyx”. The meaning behind it felt right to him. From that day forward, he went by Pheonyx Archer Greene. 

The years following were rough. Maggie accepted him, never once misgendering or dead-naming him. But the rest of his family continued to have issues with it. Shawn and Beth picked it up faster than his parents. It took 3 years before the older couple even began to come around to the idea of Pheonyx being trans. They consistently pushed him to go to Church, to repent, or to go to “counseling” with the local preacher. This created a divide between the family and Pheonyx, one that still existed even after his parents began gendering and naming him correctly 75% of the time. 

He lost his innocence the day he turned 22. His body, that he had finally begun to love, became a broken shell. A layer of grime covering his already marred skin. No matter how hard he cleaned or tore at his skin, the filth never disappeared. The state of Georgia was suddenly a prison. The rolling pastures and never-ending forests that were once home suddenly held memories he needed to escape.

Once his physical body healed, Pheonyx took the first flight out of the Bible Belt and landed in Michigan. He took shitty jobs just to get by at first. Long hours with little sleep just to avoid the memories that haunted him at night. Solace came in the form of a friend, another trans guy that frequented the diner Pheonyx bused tables for. Small talk became long conversations over burnt coffee. The other man offered him a job at his tattoo shop, Zombie Ink, as a receptionist/custodian.  From there, he healed. Slowly. He had more nightmares and more scars than before but his skin finally felt clean.

He kept in touch with his family, but he avoided visiting. The memories were still painful. It took 6 years for the man to finally gain the courage to go back to his home state. His impending top surgery being the motivation to finally put his demons to rest. He would need some help after his surgery, and truth be told, he missed his siblings. Even his parents. So, he opted for a surgeon closer to his hometown. Afterwards, he would spend the next month healing on the family farm. Pheonyx didn’t realize that by making the decision to put his nightmares to bed, he was changing the whole course of his life. 

Maybe it was fate that brought him back home just shortly before the world collapsed. Or maybe it was just shitty luck. Pheonyx wasn’t sure. All he knew was that everything changed. 

Next Chapter

#daryl dixon #daryl x oc #daryl dixon smut #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd x oc #The Walking Dead #daryl dixon x trans!reader #transgender OC #dary x omc #daryl dixon x omc #twd mxm #daryl dixon x oc

[d-dixonimagines]

ANGSTY

A bit of angst and tension and banter! Cause I love me a spicy Daryl! As always, choose which prompt you would like to use ( you can pick at least two if they mesh well together). I envision Daryl being the one to say a lot of these, but it can be your choice who says it! Choose the prompt(s) and a brief summary or idea of what you would like and I will do my best! Some may be recycled from past lists. Enjoy! 1. "Excuse me! That's rude!" 2. "I don't like your attitude." 3. "You sure love to hear the sound of your own voice, don't you?" 4. "You owe me an explanation." / "I don't owe you shit." 5. "You're the worst person I've ever met." 6. "What the hell did you think would happen?" 7. "You didn't think this through, did you?" 8. "You can't get rid of me that easy." 9. "Why are you so stubborn?" 10. "Please, for the love of god, shut up for once." "Why don't you come over here and make me?" 11. "Sometimes I feel like you're just waiting for an excuse to leave." SOME SOFTER THEMED PROMPTS: 12. "You can relax. We're safe here." 13. "That's quite a scratch you got there." 14. "I can't think straight with you." 15. "I used to want to kill you. Now I just want to kiss you." 16. "Stop being grumpy, it's lame." 17. "You're bleeding -- how long have you been hiding this?"

#dary dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #d-dixonimagines #the walking dead imagines

[snailss]

hey so y’know how i said i would get a fix out a few days ago?

i lied

some shit happened irl and i got busy again BUT I SHOULD BE FREE IN A FEW DAYS!! so i’ll HOPEFULLY (no promises) get some stuff out this week.

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #dary dixon #twd #the walking dead daryl dixon #ahjh #i’m sorry yall #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon smut

[greatfandom]

More fandoms?

Hey guys, are there any more fandom’s you all might be interested in me making a Masterlist for?

So far these are all of I have but I am open to expanding...

ya know as I said above lol

The walking dead -

     Mostly Daryl Dixon, but I am willing to start Masterlist for other characters if that's something you guys want.

The Witcher -

    I probably won’t be doing a Masterlist as of now, when I learned Henry Cavill won’t be returning for season 4 I Kinda took it as shock and I'm still wrapping my head around it.

The Vampire Diaries -

I have only relogged Klaus at the moment but I am willing to do more characters, just a warning I’m not a big fan of the actor that plays Kol, just google his scandals.  

If yall want any more fandoms either comment below/ though I won’t be able to reply, or there's the inbox or you can submit a post

Love you guys!

#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #dar #daryl dixon smut #dary #dad! daryl dixon #dad! chris evans #the vampire diaries imagine #vampire diaries smut #vampire oc #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill #dad! henry cavill #henry cavill fan fic #Geralt #Dad!Geralt #geralt of rivia #daryl dixon x reader #greatfandomreblog #reblog #fanfiction #masterlist #daryl dixon masterlist #henry cavill masterlist #geralt rivia masterlist #geralt of riva masterlist #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction

[the-dixon-effect]

Sticks and Stones

A/N: dear fic writers, consider this a public service announcement. DO NOT schedule a week of fic writing that coincides with a camping trip, it is hell!!!!

era: season 3-4, prison era

summary: Y/N suffers from chronic pain in her feet, but hates to feel vulnerable around others so constantly overworks herself. perhaps a certain archer could be the right kind of medicine... | requested from this ask by @justalexheree :) guys i really did my research for this one so i hope you enjoy ^.^

pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

words: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of chronic foot pain ig?? lil' time jump

It must be late by now, you thought. You were hesitant to look up to check the position of the sun for fear of getting distracted. You were crouched down, working out in the allotment around the front of the prison. The farm was a brilliant idea, you decided, despite the high amount of labour that was necessary to feed the residents of the prison-turned-camp. God knows you needed the food. Perhaps if the members of your community were aware of your condition, you wouldn't be forced to work out here all day, practically sweating your skin off in the Georgia sun. It didn't matter anyway, 'cause you couldn't let that happen.

So here you were, digging up soil and planting seeds 'til the sun disappeared behind the trees. It was somewhat enjoyable, you convinced yourself, of course you had your thoughts and daydreams to entertain yourself, and back in your old life you would have never found yourself spending so much time outdoors. Even so, a mundane office job might have arguably been a little better for your body. You constantly found yourself having to distract yourself from the persistent ache in your feet, maybe some company would do you good, you thought.

"Hey, we're all eatin' inside, ya can prolly finish up now," you heard the familiar voice of the crossbow-wielding man from several metres away. You knew you needed to stop, but there was still work to be done. If only there was enough food in the first place, then maybe you would let yourself resign to the dining area. Save it for those who needed it, you thought.

"Alright, I'll be inside in a second," That was a lie. It's not like the rest of the group would notice your absence, you figured. You better just stay out here a little longer, making sure the crops were tended to until it was dark. Then maybe you'd get some rest. For now, you didn't need to eat. Truthfully, your feet were killing you and it felt like you could keel over at any second. Get over yourself, you said, over and over in your mind, these people need feeding.

You remembered the look the archer gave you when he called you inside, observing how you were the only person left out in the field. You turned to check if he had left and, to your surprise, he was still stood watching, hands buried in his pockets as he looked straight ahead and met your eyes.

"C'mon," he shouted across the distance between the two of you. You couldn't really say no to him, except he left you wondering why he was so eager for you to join him. You put down your equipment and split from whatever idle job you had yourself occupied with. Something you did appreciate about the humble farmer's life was the reasonable tan you had acquired, which was on display in your little denim shorts as you jogged up to meet him. A part of you wished Daryl would notice.

"Ya' alrigh'? Yer limpin'," he asked, meanwhile you were contemplating on the fact that this might be the most words you'd ever heard the archer speak, to your face anyway. Your lack of association with the man didn't stop you from admiring from afar, though.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Been a long day."

"I bet," he replied, walking side-by-side with you up to the building entrance. You thought it was sweet how he paid attention to you and noticed something like that. Maybe one day you'd open up about your condition, when it felt right.

3 MONTHS LATER

You looked around the room, searching for Daryl's eyes. Today, more than ever, you needed to be with him. After months of breaking down his thick walls, it was safe to say that he'd become one of the most important people in your life. Your feet were hurting like hell today, and the only thing that would make you feel better right now was his presence.

He'd been out on a solo run, which you'd begged Rick to let you join him, ultimately to your disappointment. So you spent your day as you always did, out in the pasture, tending to the crops. After a while you headed back inside in hopes of finding Daryl, perched at one of the rusty tables, waiting for you. To your dismay, you couldn't find him anywhere.

You approached Rick with a worried look shaping your features, "Where's Daryl? Is he back yet?" you asked, your voice laced with concern. "Nah, he's not back yet," sensing your anxiety, he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and spoke, "Y/N, he's gonna be fine. Anyway, he's scheduled to be back in... about an hour."

So you waited. And waited. It felt like the longest 60 minutes of your life, busying yourself in your cell by reading a book that Carol recommended, not absorbing a single word. By the time you decided that there was nothing else you could do to distract yourself, you headed downstairs and made idle chatter with one of the prison newcomers, Karen.

"I hear your boyfriend Daryl's coming back from a run today," she said.

"Oh, no, he's not my boyfriend," you said with a slight giggle.

"Oh, right! Gosh, it's just that you two are so close, I just figured- you know what, nevermind, ignore me," she said with a chuckle.

You smiled and looked at the floor, and tried to silence your anxious thoughts about whether something might have happened to him, if he's hurt, or anything. At this, the double-doors swung open and in walked the man you'd been waiting for for the last 48 hours. You approached him, suppressing the relief and excitement you felt just from seeing him walk through those doors. His eyes lit up at your welcoming smile, and maybe, just maybe, he would be inclined to embrace you right here if the prison foyer wasn't so crowded.

For now, he had other things on his mind that he needed to clear with you. Just like you, he spent the last 48 hours worrying more about your safety than he did his own. He regretted not being able to stay with you, or at least bring you along with him. He was the only person who knew about your condition and how badly you were affected by it, which meant he felt an immense responsibility to take care of you and offer you acts of service. Not to mention, you were also the only person who Daryl felt totally comfortable around, comfortable enough to share some of his childhood trauma and emotion with. You liked to think the two of you had a special bond, but despite your healthy friendship, you couldn't help wanting more. Either way, all he wanted right now was to be with you and to not have to deal with anyone else in this damn place.

Maggie shot you a mischievous look from across the room as you tugged on the archer's sleeve. You rolled you eyes at her following Daryl up the steel staircase and entered his cell. You sat down next to him on the mattress and he copied you by rolling his head back against the cool brick wall. You sighed in contentment, still in somewhat pain in your feet.

"So, how'd it go?" you asked, turning to face him.

"Was fine. Are ya' alrigh'?" you noticed how he changed the subject, sensing his concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It's just a little relentless, you know," you felt a little guilt for immediately beginning to talk about yourself, even when you knew you needed his comfort. His closeness was good enough for you.

"Mm, I know. Ya' gotta stop overworkin' yerself, ya know," he drawled. His pretty eyes were staring deeply at you now.

"Uh-huh. It's just, it's kind of relentless, you know. Like nothing I do makes it better. There's no distraction that works," it felt undeniably good to talk to someone about it, someone who understands. Someone who doesn't subject you to the same stereotypes or think that you're making it up. He wrapped an arm around you and you instinctively rested your head in the crook of his neck. He smelled delicious, like the outdoors, mixed with the distinct notes of Marlboro cigarettes and stormy weather. This was a pretty good distraction, you thought.

"Hey, I'll always make a run into some pharmacy to get ya yer meds, or anythin' like tha'," he spoke softly with his lips resting on the top of your head, occasionally brushing against your silky hair. "Jus' tell me what ya' need." It was this. You needed this.

“I just need you.”

#brandy writes #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #twd angst #daryl x you #daryl fanfiction #twd imagine #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon

[chrissy02]

LATE NIGHT CONFESSION

Warning: suggestive

Era: Prison era

Pronouns: They/them

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader

———————————-———————————-———

“Hey, Carol…pssst…are you awake?” Daryl asked cautiously at the door of his best friend's cell.

“Can you explain to me why aren’t you sleeping? What do you need at this time, when people are sleeping by the way.” The short haired woman who came out of the cell told him tiredly.

Daryl didn’t know where to start. He even felt awkward to ask his girl best friend. Despite that, he mustered up the courage and asked:'' : “ How do ya know…tha’ ya like someone?”

Carol looked at him questioningly before looking him into his eyes to see if he was really serious. “You love someone?!”

The dark-haired man’s eyes widened at her response. But yes, she was right. Daryl Dixon was in love with someone. He wanted to make sure inconspicuously. Sadly Carol is smart and she knew. “I didn’t say tha’ I like someone. What the hell do ya mean by that?!” he stated angrily, well…more like flustered. She just laughed at his reaction and just told him: “Well…. I would say it’s like…hmm…you feel happy when the person is close to you. It’s like butterflies in your stomach? And your heart beats faster than normal. You are interested in that person too, you want to know every damn detail, even those little ones.”

Daryl was invested in what Carol was saying. He didn’t wanted to believe that he, Daryl, was in love? He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t even know that Carol finished.

She smiled mischievously at his reaction. “So you do love someone…” she said, giggling. Daryl looked at her and just grunted, she took it as an agreement.

“I think i know who it is, pookie.” “Pffff Yeah sure…” he replied sarcastically. “It’s me, isn’t it?” They both laughed.

“Is it Y/n?” she looked at him seriously. She wanted to know if it was them, even though she knew the answer. “Mhmm…” with this answer Daryl fastly left her cell.

——————————————————————————

Y/n was getting ready for bed, when they suddenly heard footsteps near their cell. They turned to the cell door and saw their favourite blue-eyed hunter. Y/n smiled. “Shouldn’t you be asleep by this time?” they whispered to him.

“Shoudn’t you be the one asleep?” Daryl told them and Y/n quietly chuckled. “Well, i just got back from the watch tower and was getting ready…”

Daryl started to panic. What if he is bothering them? They are for sure tired, he doesn't want to burden them with his feelings, which they do not requite. “Why did you come?” Y/n asked him, looking into his eyes.

“Well I just…” Daryl started, but he didn’t know where.

They gave him a smile, big one. Y/n shows this smile just with him and for him, no one else. That was special for Daryl. He felt butterflies in his stomach when they smiled at him, like always.

“I like you..” he whispered, but Y/n heard it.

They were still looking into his blue eyes, but now it was a “are you serious?” look. Daryl, he wasn’t looking into Y/n’s eyes, he knew that if he looked into their eyes then he wouldn’t be able to tell them what was on his heart for a few months.

“I like you too..” Y/n assured him. He sighed and said “no…i mean it as a…” he felt more and more frustrated until he couldn't handle it.

Daryl walked closer to them, gently grabbing their head and kissing them tenderly with hopes of Y/n feeling the same way.

Surprised, Daryl feels them kiss back. Y/n throws one arm around his neck and digs the other into his gorgeous chestnut hair. He moved his hand to their hip and placed the other on their back, gently moving Y/n towards him to deepen their kiss.

Y/n’s lips were warm and soft, just like Daryl imagined. They parted slightly, allowing Daryl's tongue to slip inside.

After a few minutes of kissing, they both ran out of breath and had to pull away from each other, despite not wanting to. They both took a deep breath, panting heavily. Daryl was blushing, he didn’t expect Y/n to reciprocate his feelings.

“That was...“ Daryl softly whispered as his and Y/n's foreheads were touching.

“Amazing? Hell yeah it was.“ Y/n enthusiastically answered as they started to grin, causing Daryl to smile back at them. Y/n decided to pepper his face with kisses, making him giggle in the process.

“Should I take it that ya feel the same way?” he asked. Y/n nodded and smiling even more.

“So would you like to be my-“ “Yes.”

Daryl just laughed and kissed them again. His hands land on their ass. “Somehow, these jeans bother me..” he said jokingly and they curiously looked at him, despite knowing what he meant.

“I think we'll have to take them off..” Daryl smirked and started kissing their neck. “Then you should start with it…” Y/n laughed and Daryl started taking them off…

And they both didn't actually sleep….

#the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x you #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon x reader

[jo-writes-fanfiction]

Sick day

Sick Day Daryl’s Daughter Daryl Dixon x Daughter!Reader Words 1174 Warnings/Notes: Sick, passing out, none other than the show

not my image

You wake up one morning feeling dizzy and nauseous. You roll over and look to see if Daryl is still in bed or if he’s already out and about. You see his pillow and pile of blankets but not him. “Daryl?” you call out, hoping he’s somewhere near the tent. When you get no response you decide to get up and look to see if he’s in the camp or out hunting. You climb out of your tent and realize you are more dizzy than you thought and your head hurts like hell. “Daryl?” you call out again, this time holding your hand up to your head. You get no response and try to walk farther towards the rest of the camp but your head is spinning and you can barely stand up right. “Y/n? Are you ok?” you hear someone say before you fall to the ground and pass out.

“Someone needs to get Daryl, now!” Lori says with a firm tone, and one of the people goes running off. Lori is still holding the girl from when she caught her, breaking her fall moments ago. “What happened?” a young Carl comes running up beside his mother. “We don’t know right now but I need you to wait by the rest of the group. That goes for the rest of you too.” Lori waves them all away with her hand. “She could be sick and we don’t want everyone else to get sick as well.” As everyone is walking away Lori picks up the young girl and brings her back to Daryl’s tent where she had been staying. She puts the girl on her cot and checks her head and neck for a fever. That's when she felt that she was burning up. Just as Lori was about to leave and see if they had found Daryl yet he came running up to the tent. “Where is she? Is she ok?” He seemed frantic and worried. “She's right here, Daryl. She is burning up and probably has a fever, which means she might be throwing up and coughing a lot later.” Lori tries explaining to him but he doesn't seem to be listening as he sits down and feels her for himself. “Daryl, are you listening? You're going to need to keep an eye on her.” “Yea, I hear ya.” “Ok, let me know when she’s up and I’ll heat up some soup for her. Don’t let her eat sweets or drink any pop or anything.” “Alright, I got it, will you just let me sit with her?” Daryl said it a little louder than he meant to, and probably a little too harsh, but he really just wanted to make sure that his girl was ok.

When you wake up the first thing you feel is Daryl’s hand in yours. You slowly open your eyes and it feels like the sun is too bright and the world is spinning. “D-Dary-l?” You croak the words out, and it takes all of your strength to do so. “Hey, it's ok kid, I got ya, you're ok.” he shoots up so he's right up next to the bed. “E-Everything h-hurts.” you take long and deep breaths after talking. “It’s gonna be ok kid, don’t waste your energy talkin’. I got you.” Daryl moves one of his hands up to brush your hair out of your face. He keeps it on your head after, moving his thumb over your forehead. He keeps his other hand interlocked with yours. You look into his eyes for a while before drifting off to sleep.

It’s been an hour before you wake back up. “Hey kid, how ya’ feelin’?” Daryl smiles at you from his spot on his cot. “Not any better.” you let out a couple coughs before continuing. “Can I have some food?” “Oh right, Lori told me to tell her when you woke up, I’ll be right back.” He leans down and kisses the top of your head before unzipping and stepping out of the tent. “Alright.” you reply, although it’s more for yourself since he can’t even hear you.

Daryl returns a couple minutes later. “Lori is gonna make you some soup. Said it’s got healthy stuff in it.” He smiles as he says healthy stuff. You smirk back. He always jokes with you about how you two eat things differently or act differently from everyone else. “Can you read me my book while we wait? Please?” You're still smiling and it melts his heart that little bit more every time. “I guess, which one do you want?” He always pretends to be grumpy about doing things for you. Things that “show his emotions” as you like to call it. “Y-you pick.” you let out a couple more coughs before settling down facing him. He only gets about halfway through when Lori knocks on your tent. “Hang on.” Daryl sets the book down next to you and clears everything off your foldable table before quickly opening the tent and taking the soup from her. “Thank you, Lori.” He gives her a quick nod. “I appreciate it.” She gives him a smile before looking down at you. “And how are you doing? Feeling any better?” She smiles at you. You just shake your head no in response and turn back to face the rather large bowl of soup. “Alright well I’ll leave you two alone then. Get some rest y/n.” Lori looks up and exchanges a nod with Daryl one last time before zipping the tent back up and leaving. “Can you sit up? To eat?” Daryl kneels by your bed again to help you sit up if you need. You simply shake your head no and struggle a little but sit up as much as you can. “Here.” Daryl holds the pot by the handle and gets a spoonful. You expect him to hand it to you but instead he brings it up to his mouth and blows on it. He then takes the whole thing into his mouth. He sits and chews for a moment before nodding his head slightly and getting another spoonful. He brings it back up to his mouth and blows before bringing it up to yours. You take a bite and chew. You smile at the warmth in your scratchy raw throat. He repeats this process with you over and over again. Eventually you finish the soup and he sets the pot back down. “Want me to finish the book?” he reaches over and grabs it, holding it up in front of you. You just nod yes and he gives you a little smile before starting to read again. You lay back down and let Daryl’s voice carry you to sleep. Once Daryl saw that she was asleep he carefully pulled the blankets up to her shoulders and tucked her in. He sat there for a moment after. Just watching her and thinking. Eventually he gets up and lays in his own cot, ready to get some sleep himself.

-----

Thanks for reading! As always, support your writers by not only liking but also commenting and re-blogging!

Commissions: Open

#the walking dead #daryl #daryl dixon #fanfic #twd #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #fanfiction #jowrites #daryl x daughter

[sirensvcubus]

Season 5 Daryl

-Last Time

: Y/Ns been in the group since the very beginning, with everyone. She and Daryl bonded looking for Sophia and became close friends but nothing more until one night after a game made up by the group.

Daryl x Y/N

Season 5/ Alexandria

____________________________________

After a long day on the road hunting and scavenging with our small group, (Rick,Glen, Maggie, Michonne, Carol, and Daryl) sit and male a fire before going back to Alexandria.

“Not much but it’ll do.” Rick said putting another log on.

“Im glad we all got to go out together, Im still not so sure I trust these people in Alexandria.” Carol said.

“Seem pretty docile to me,” Maggie said.

“They haven’t been out there, seen the things we have, who knows how long it will last,” Rick said sitting down on a log beside Carol.

“What should we do until these squirrels cook up.” Daryl said.

“I thought of a game.” Y/N said with a small smile, “Called last time.”

“Your just a beacon of hope aint you” Daryl said chuckling.

“Sounds pretty fitting for the situation, good apocalypse game.”

“Last time and then you say something you haven’t done in a while, like last time I had Pizza… I don’t know something stupid like that.” You said.

“Carl had some with the other kids the other day.” Rick said.

“Anyone else get in on that action.” Michonne said smiling. Nobody replied.

“We got scammed.” Maggie said laughing.

“Last time I had whiskey.” Rick said

“Ew” you replied, “once on my 21 birthday, wasn’t good” Everyone laughed,

“More refined taste I guess.” Rick said smiling.

“Me and Glenn got some on a run, bottle didn’t last long.” We chuckled

“Last time we had sex.” Michonne said.

“Oooh good one,” Carol said.

“Long time ago” Carol smiled.

“About a year ago” Michonne said.

“A few months” Rick added.

“A long long time ago, about three years, how far are we into this damn apocalypse anyway.”

“Almost three years, feels like more time has past.” You said.

“Three years for me too, god I miss it.” You said chuckling.

“Last week” Glen said smirking.

Maggie added “ a few days ago…hahahha got you,” she said looking at Glen “same for me about a week” She continued.

We continued on until the squirrels were done roasting, and made are way back to Alexandria chewing them of sticks causing a few weird glances.

Everyone had dispersed from the one house they slept in the first few nights there, but still some lingered there not completely feeling safe just yet. Rick, Carl, Judith, Michonne, Daryl, Sasha, Carol, and Tara still all slept in the biggest house. Some having there own rooms like Y/N, Daryl, Rick, and Michonne, some sharing, like Sash and Carol, and Judith and Carl. Tara sprawled out on the couch. We all stayed up talking but eventually went to our corners of the house.

You went into your room feeling happy and safe because the comfy bed waiting for you and the fun night you had with the group. But still something felt..incomplete. You were lonely surrounded by people. Thinking back to the game you knew why. It had been three years you missed being touched, and just loved.

You had always had feelings for Daryl, I mean look at his arms, you yearned for him, but out on the road it wasn’t a time to start a confusing relationship; Maybe now is you thought…no no I should just go to bed. You plopped down on the bed tossing and turning unable to sleep.

You hesitantly got up and thought a minute before walking to the door. As you opened it Daryl was right outside. You took a breath and looked at eachother for a minute. Before you knew he lunged at you holding your head into his. You vicously made out and he slammed you against the wall as you kicked the door shut.

#smut #fanfic #daryl / reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fluff #dary dixon #Daryl Dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion x reader #daryl x female reader

[frenziedslashers]

Hey, so I saw that you had requests open for TWD stuff on your Daryl post! I LOVED that fic so much! I read it last night and oh my lord, you write for Daryl so well! It felt like I could picture him right in front of me with how well you captured him. He wasn't ooc at all!

Anyways, I was wondering if you could write a part two? Maybe Reader stays with Daryl while he is in the kingdom and they find Carol together. Maybe reader stays with her and she picks up on the signs and tells the reader to get tested to see if she's pregnant 👀 Sorta just want a fic where Daryl has a baby <3 And I feel like you could write that super well! If you are uncomfortable with this request feel free to ignore this! Thank you for the beautiful fic last night 🙏 I will be reading it again now.

Baby, It's Okay

Pt. 1; I Love You, and I Don't Say It Enough{smut}

A/N: Ahh I am so glad that people like it! I wasn't sure if people would be too into it lmao. I had the idea, but I wasn't sure haha. Glad that you think I wrote him pretty in character too! I was a bit worried lmao. Apologies if this isn't that well written. I have been struggling with words lately.

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warning: AFAB!Reader, She/her pronouns used, pregnancy,

REQUESTING INFO || TWD MASTERLIST

Carol reached over to hand you one of the apples that Ezekiel had brought for the two of you. A soft smile on her lips. "So, you and Daryl," she motioned to her own neck with a smirk. You swore you couldn't feel any hotter at the moment. Hands reaching up instinctively to feel your neck, even though you knew you wouldn't be able to feel the hickeys she was motioning to.

She only laughed softly, shaking her head with a sigh. "Don't worry, I get it. I'm just glad he has you," You chuckled softly, nodding. "Yeah, I am too. He treats me better than anyone I've ever dated in the past," "he better. Or else he'll be dealing with me." She commented and you snickered, rolling your eyes with a soft sigh. Carol had always been yours and Daryl's number-one supporter. She was always there when one of you needed advice. Though it was mostly you that went to her, Daryl would occasionally ask or wait for advice from her. She was pretty good at reading when he needed some.

"I'm glad that we found you out here. Daryl doesn't want me in The Kingdom in case they find him. He knows Negan and his men will probably come looking for me next in order to teach him a lesson." You added with pursed lips at the thought of it all. "So he thought me being here would be better. Plus, then neither of us is alone." She smiled at your words. Reaching across the table to hold your hand. "I asked to be alone here, you know?" Your smile was quick to fade at that. Looking her over cautiously, hoping that you didn't say the wrong thing. Or that you weren't intruding. "But I wouldn't ask for anyone else to break those rules than you and Daryl." You chuckled, giving her hand a light squeeze. "We're thankful, Carol. I'll try my best not to be a burden."

You tried not to get in her way for the next few days. Daryl coming to visit the both of you every night and leaving back for The Kingdom or Hilltop in the morning. Promising to return later that night. He always came back, too. You and Carol both knew he wouldn't stay long, though. He loved you, but he had to keep moving. Keep helping the groups prepare for the fight against the Saviors.

"Are you all right?" Her voice was hardly audible as you held your head in your hands. You had just thrown up again, the third time that morning. Carol frowned as she looked you over. "Honey, do you feel all right?" She asked, coming to sit beside you. When you finally processed what she was asking, you nodded. "Yeah, just feeling nauseous is all. I don't know what's going on." "Morning sickness?" You froze at those words. It couldn't be.

You shook your head, dropping your hands to look over to Carol. "What? No, it can't be, I..." You were about ready to tell her that you and Daryl had used protection, but thinking back to it. You hadn't. He'd came inside you and that was that. "I.." you stammered again, the realization of it all finally setting in. "Hun, relax, everything will be okay." She assured you. Reaching out to place her hands on top of yours once more. "But what if he doesn't..?" tears were pricking your eyes. Unable to finish the question as dread set in. "Look at me, Daryl won't be mad at you. This is just as much his fault as yours. He might be a little scared at first, but he won't be mad. He'll love you and the baby if you are pregnant. I know he will." She smiled, and you nodded. She was right.

You both sat there quietly for a moment or two before she let out a sigh of her own. "I can go into The Kingdom today. Get you a pregnancy test to make sure. No use telling him just to find out you're getting sick 'cause of stress. Don't wanna put any ideas in that head of his." She spoke and the both of you chuckled. Nodding your head while sniffling. "Thank you, Carol." "Anything for my favorite couple."

It wasn't long before you had the test in hand. Staring at it with anxious eyes as you waited for the stick to decipher your future for you. To your disfavor, it was positive too. Frowning with a sigh as you tried to rake your brain for a way to tell Daryl. How would you? Maybe you could just wait it out, and he'd notice. Or wait until you were further along to be sure you would stay pregnant and nothing would happen to the baby. God, what if something happened to it? You were so overwhelmed, holding the test in your hand while entering the house again. Staring down at it while your feet led you to where Carol last was.

"Darlin', everythin' okay? What's the matter?" your head snapped up in a panic. Wide eyes stared back at Daryl who was now standing in the kitchen with Carol. You held your breath, hoping that she would say something to get you out of this situation. But when you looked over at her she was sneaking into the other room. Neither of you expected him to be back for another few hours, so you were both surprised by his arrival.

Your mouth opened to say something, but no words came out. A tear rolling down your cheek while you stared back at your lover. You didn't know what to say without scaring him away. You had a feeling that whatever you said or did would send him out the door, never to come back. Even if you knew that he wouldn't leave you. So, when he approached you with worried eyes, you extended your arm to hand him the test.

He was quick to reach out for it. Grabbing and inspecting it. It took a moment of looking it over and finally, he read over the words on it. Finally realizing what was going on.

Daryl's worried brows relaxed as reality set in. Blinking while he stared blankly at the test. If anything, this felt worse than him pushing you to the side and bolting out the door.

"Is this.." He pursed his lips, eyes flickering up to yours and then back to the test. "Is it mine?" The fact he even asked that made you frown. Nodding your head with sad eyes. "Yes it's yours, why would you even ask that?" He only gave you a shrug in response. Trying his best to figure out how to feel about the situation. He was happy, hell. He'd never felt so excited about the thought of kids! He just wasn't prepared for it. Nor was right now the time for you two to be worrying about a baby. It was already a lot making Sure Maggie and her baby stayed safe. This would be a whole other ball game for Dixon.

"So, I'm gonna be a daddy, huh?" He asked, flashing you a half smile as if to assure you that he wasn't upset by the whole thing. You nodded, letting out a relieved sigh while sniffling, which caught his attention real quick. Though he smiled, you couldn't help but worry it was just so you wouldn't freak out. That was too late. Every bad thought you could have was already plaguing your mind. "If you want to, if you wanna leave me, I get it." It was his turn to frown. He hated that you thought he would leave you over this. It was his kid, why would he want to leave?

Daryl put the test in his pocket. Unsure what else to do with it. Living in the apocalypse he had a habit of shoving everything in his hands into his pocket. Once his hands were free he grabbed you to pull you close. Cradling the back of your head with his hand, kissing the side of your head with a hum. "Baby, it's okay. I ain't leavin' you. I just.." He pondered for the right words, and you clung onto his shirt. Trembling a little while you waited anxiously for what he would say.

"I just never thought I'd be able to be a dad. With the dead and all, plus. I just never supposed I'd be a good one." He told you, and you pulled back to look up at him. Reaching up to cup the side of his face. "Dar'," you called, and he sighed. Resting his forehead against your own. "You'd be one of the best fathers in the world. You've proved that with how you treat Judith and Carl, and how you watched over Beth... I was worried you wouldn't want it." He shrugged, smiling softly. "Well, it wasn't on my to-do list, but we can't really do anything else. I ain't leavin' you anytime soon, either. Not over no damn kid. I'll love you and them just fine." He muttered in assurance, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips and you giggled lightly. "I'm glad." He nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your jaw. Sighing while his free hand came between the both of you to rest on your stomach. Forehead now resting on your shoulder. "Can we name 'em, Little Ass Kicker?" It was time for you to roll your eyes, sighing deeply at your lover. Which only seemed to make him smile more. "Daryl," he hummed, pulling back so his eyes met your own. "You aren't allowed to name the baby." He chuckled, sighing while pressing another kiss to your lips. "Alright, fine. You and Rick ain't no fun." And so that was that. Daryl knew about the baby, and everything was going to be all right. He would be sure of it. Or at least you hoped everything would be all right. As good as it could be in this fucked up world, anyhow.

You and Daryl had decided on keeping the baby between the two of you and Carol until the whole Negan situation was handled. Or until Daryl could find a safe place to keep you. Carol would get you the supplies you needed. Such as vitamins, and enough food to make sure you were somewhat healthy. Daryl would spend a lot more time with you, too. The further along that you got, the harder it was to get the hunter to leave your side.

Once Negan was somewhat stopped and finally imprisoned within Alexandria. You and Daryl finally told the group about what you were both expecting. It was like a weight was lifted off everyone's shoulders. Even if it was something that they would have never known until you were showing significantly. It was wonderful to hear the great news after stopping the Saviors for what you all hoped was for good.

Rick had pulled Daryl in for a hug. Smiling widely at his friend. "Never saw you as a father type," Daryl chuckled, shrugging. "Me neither." He spoke, looking over at you as you spoke with Maggie and a few of the others. Smiling and laughing as you talked about the big news. "Guess Abraham was right though, is nice thinking about settlin' down. 'Specially with 'er." Rick nodded, squeezing his friend's shoulder with a sigh. "I'm happy for you. If you two ever need anythin', you just give me a holler. Got it?" Daryl nodded, keeping his eyes on you. Smiling when you glanced over and waved at him. "Thank you, Rick." "Anything for family."

It was a little weird having Daryl at your beckon and call at all times of the day. Once he was finally able to feel the baby, you were done for. Privacy was a thing of the past and Daryl couldn't get enough of you. He had to have his eyes on you at all times. Making sure that you were safe and okay, that nothing would happen to you or your baby. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened.

When he did have to leave your side. Michonne or Carol, sometimes both of them, would be with you. Helping you and giving you the time away from your lover that you needed.

"I don't think I've ever seen him stay in Alexandria this long, he's always going on runs and doing something" Michonne stated. "Well, he's got a baby to take care of now," Carol spoke with a smile, and you chuckled, sitting back in your chair with a sigh. "Well, he's driving me crazy." You huffed, a hand resting on your stomach while you looked between the two women. "I love him, but god. He's been a lot, lately." You laughed, and they laughed with you. "Give him a break, he's just trying to do what he thinks is best for you and your guys' little one." You nodded, shrugging. "Yeah, I guess you're right." "I'm always right," Carol spoke, and the three of you laughed once more.

When Daryl came back from his hunt later that night, you were already asleep. Michonne was passed out on the couch downstairs with a book in her hand. Carol back in her own house. He smiled faintly at the woman on the couch, thanking her silently in his head and reminding himself to do so later when they were both awake. She nor Carol didn't have to stay with you, but they did, and he appreciated that more than either of the women knew.

When he made it to the room he cleaned himself up, first. Showering to get all the blood and grime off himself before climbing in bed with you. His hand instinctively came to rest on your stomach while he curled up beside you. Kissing your shoulder with a sigh. "Hey," you muttered, and he smiled. He should have known you would have woken up. "Hey," he spoke back. Both of you lay there for a moment before you spoke again. "You get anything good today?" You spoke groggily and he shrugged. "Nah, not really." He lied, but you believed him. Cozying up next to him with a hum. "Better luck next time," you muttered, and he nodded. "Yeah," he mumbled, kissing the side of your head.

Daryl didn't want to tell you that he actually did hit the jackpot out on his run today. Not only did he have a deer hanging in the garage to butcher later on. But he also found you some stuff. Some clothes for the baby, some baby food, and even a set of rings for you and him. Or at least he hoped the ring would fit you, if not he'd put it on a necklace for you. He had never asked you to marry him, and everyone already assumed that you were both married if they weren't a part of your original group. Hell, even the original group considered you both to be spouses, so why not make it official with rings? It may not actually be official, but to Daryl, and hopefully yourself, it would be.

Daryl never knew that he would ever be married to the love of his life. Let alone having a pup with them. He'd never been happier with the idea. Smiling softly at the thought of the baby being born. Being able to hold both of you. Being able to teach it how to hunt and track. He had to chew on his bottom lip to hide back the wide grin that threatened to show. Watching you sleep while rubbing your stomach. He'd never felt more normal in his life than now, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let anyone take this away from him. Not Negan, not the dead, no one could hurt his family. Not on his watch.

Not now, not ever. He'd be sure of it, too.

You hoped that he would lay off being protective after the baby was born, and he knew it. But truth be told, Daryl knew he'd only get worse as time went on. The moment he held the little one in his arms, and realized what you both had made. How precious it was and perfect. This little bundle of joy that brought hope for the future. Your future. You'd both just have to grow to live with it because he'd never let either one of you out of his sight. Not in a million years.

"Daryl, we aren't having any more kids," you'd tell him, but Carol was right. Back when she mentioned not to tell him until you knew it was certain you were pregnant. Because even just the thought of a baby might give him ideas, and right now. The thought of having more kids with you after this one got old enough for you both to care for another baby. God, it was definitely giving him ideas.

#Daryl Dixon x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead #x reader #pregnancy

[writeshite]

helloooo, just wanted to make a daryl dixon request? the male readers are lacking lmao

it's canon that daryl was very abused and mistreated by his father when merle was away and in one scene where merle tears up his shirt from behind daryl has scares from when he was beaten up with probably a belt.

Daryl now has a boyfriend who loves him so much, but he was avoidant of the topic with him. Until they were having their aftercare session after an intimate moment and reader takes little time to see Daryl's back, Daryl's head on reader's lap while he smokes and caresses the scarred back, that's when Daryl opens up about everything.

"I'll take care of you."

"It's rotten work."

"Not for me, not if it's you."

Kintsugi

Summary:

Daryl doesn’t believe in love. But you would disagree. Holding his hands as though he were the most precious thing left in this apocalyptic world, laying kiss after kiss on his skin, each one accompanied by a whisper of adoration, combing his hair back to gaze lovingly at his eyes, “There you are, love.” To which he would blush, shoving your face away as you grinned at his bashful expression. 

Pairings:

Dary Dixon x Male Reader

Tags:

Comfort | Angst | Warning - Mentions of Child Abuse | Flashbacks

Words: 625

Author's Note:

I would like to preface this with the warning that there will be flashbacks to Daryl's childhood which, alongside the rest of the fic, will include child abuse.

Daryl doesn’t believe in love. 

His father did a bang-up job squandering it, a belt to his back once or twice a day, thrice if he cried, several more if he tried to evade it. His penchant for running away saved him more times than he could count - drunk old man Dixon was not someone to be around - but back to the point, Daryl Dixon did not believe in love, particularly for himself. But you would disagree. Holding his hands as though he were the most precious thing left in this apocalyptic world, laying kiss after kiss on his skin, each one accompanied by a whisper of adoration, combing his hair back to gaze lovingly at his eyes, “There you are, love.” To which he would blush, shoving your face away as you grinned at his bashful expression. 

Now, lying his head on your lap, puffing away, Daryl finds comfort in the silence of the night; he enjoys the feeling of your hands through his hair. He tries not to flinch when your hands drift lower, praying the absence of light hides the scars across his back. It had been a topic of almost conversations - when his shirt rode up, or you woke with his back to you - you never pushed, and perhaps Daryl was a coward for never saying anything. You pause just at the base of his neck, fingers grazing the first mark - his oldest, near his shoulder, and as big as his hand had been at the time. 

“December 5th…” he mumbles.

“What?”

“December 5th…wanted hot chocolate but couldn’t get the cocoa…the game was on…dad didn’t like being interrupted….”

Daryl had been small, even for a six-year-old, and the cocoa had been way up on the top shelf, shoved behind the flour and sugar. He’d climbed the counter and stood up, head smacking against the cabinet a bit when he did. He just wanted to shove the flour and sugar away - the flour moved easily, but the sugar didn’t. So he did what any child would; he pulled and fell, bringing with him a rain of sugar. The sound of his fall and the sugar sack hitting the floor was enough to catch his father’s attention. 

“What the— boy, you better not be fucking up my kitchen!” 

Daryl hadn’t been hurt that bad from the fall, but he wouldn’t know, having run off before his father could step foot in the kitchen.

“....didn’t get very far….”

“NO, NO— Pa—” Daryl had screamed when he’d been dragged back by his hair, cowering with his hands held high as his father shouted at him, the man’s favorite belt in his hand, heated up by the steam of the kettle. “I was cold, I—”

“... dipped the thing into the hot water and beat me with it….”

Daryl didn’t continue down memory lane, and you’d gone quiet, pausing in your movements - he sat up, moving from the bed to grab another smoke. He could feel a little shake in his hands, halting when he felt your hands on his back again, “I don’t —” his throat clogged up as tears pricked the corner of his eyes.

“Ok,” you responded. There was no phantom pain to soothe, yet you continued to do so, palm slowly running across his back as he rubbed furiously at his eyes. He hadn’t meant to start crying; you moved to stand ahead of him, thumbs wiping the remnants of his tears. “We don’t have to keep talking about him, ok?”

Daryl nods, sniffling, “I’m sorry, it’s rotten work.”

“What?”

“Me….I’m rotten work,” he clarifies.

“Not for me,” you counter, “not if it’s you, Daryl.” 

Daryl doesn’t believe in love, but being pulled back into the covers to lie by you, he could.

End Note:

Hope you enjoyed it. Stay Hydrated.

#daryl dixon x male!reader #daryl dixon x reader #twd imagine #this man deserves the world 😭 #there ain't enough male reader for daryl istg #also fuck daryl's dad I hope that man had his face eaten by a walker #shiterequests

[minervadashwood]

Daryl Dixon x NB!Reader (afab, plus-size) 🏹 Daryl x Reader x Rick 🛡️

The Cop and the Criminal - Chapter 18

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Series Masterlist |Masterlist | Taglist

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Summary: Daryl needs some space. You don't. (Introverts gotta introvert) This chapter contains: Angst, poor communication, a bad storm approaches. Word count: 3.2K Note: So like...don't get mad at Daryl. Dude really misses hunting.

It’d been a month since Daryl had claimed you, and you’d settled into a nice, domestic life with your Alpha. Since you now bore his mark and his scent, you didn’t need to be on suppressants; however, you continued to take your birth control pills. Neither you nor Dary were ready for pups.

You’d mostly moved out of your apartment and into the house, except for a few clothes and an extra set of bed linens. You’d had your share of academic all-nighters, so it was nice to know you could always stay there if a paper or project demanded all of your attention..

Occasionally, Ro and Merle visited you and Daryl. They still bickered a lot, but always visited together. You figured that whatever was going on between them somehow worked for the two betas, so you did your best not to pry.

A few days after Halloween, you began to realize Daryl was more anxious than usual. On the surface, everything remained normal. You had breakfast and dinner together, made love almost every night, so you weren’t sure what was causing his mood. In the past week he’d even become less talkative, which is to say, he barely spoke at all.

Still, one Friday evening he managed to startle you with an announcement at dinner.

“Goin’ huntin’ tomorrow,” he said--or really growled--over his plate of pot roast and veggies.

“Oh! Okay!” You smiled. “I’ll go to the store and get some boots and clothes for our excursion.”

Daryl dropped his fork onto the plate, and it clanged loudly. “”M goin’ alone. Tha’s how I like it. I jus’ need to get outta ‘ere. Tired of lookin’ at the same damn walls day after day an’ bein’ stuck inside.”

His words hurt you. He was unhappy. Here you had been content with work, school, and your relationship, but Daryl felt trapped.

Was this outburst a sign of things to come? Would Daryl always feel the need to escape from home? From you?  All you’d wanted from life was to study and have a pack. But what did Daryl want? He talked about pups, but it was always some far off time in the future. What did he want now?

He started eating again. “It ain’t you,” he grumbled. “Jus’ need my own space.”

“O-o-okay,” you replied, blinking quickly to quell your tears. You knew that Daryl could instinctively sense some of your emotions, just as you could his, but you did your best to get control of this empty feeling his words had created.

You couldn’t eat any more, so you stood up and began putting away the leftover food.  “It’s okay, Alpha. I can just go to campus tomorrow. I’ll…miss you.”

“Alrigh’,” he said, taking his now-empty plate to the sink. “‘M gonna pack some shit and hit the hay.”

You nodded. “I’ll join you as soon as I finish up here.”

“Nah, I’ll sleep in the other room. Be outta here before daylight anyway.”

He didn’t even want to sleep next to you? You hadn’t spent a night without him since you’d moved here. And now you had to sleep in that big nest all alone?

“Are you sure it isn’t me?” you asked, taking his hand before he could walk away.

He gave you a small nod, pulled his hand from yours, and disappeared down the hallway.

That was the last you saw of him.

You woke up the next morning, cold and lonely. The house had central heating, but at night it was turned down low. Snuggling with Daryl always kept you warm.

You reached overhead for your glasses and put them on, sighing.. It felt like the life had gone out of your home. Now, it was just an empty shell.

Desperately missing your mate, you reached out to him through your bond, just a nudge, and you were met with a sense of relief. Did that mean Daryl was happy where he was? Or happy that you’d thought of him? You waited, and after a moment you felt him purposefully thinking of you, sending you thoughts of comfort and encouragement.

You smiled but stifled the urge to keep communicating with him. You didn’t want to be a nuisance. Connecting with him had helped your sense of loneliness some, although you still missed him dearly.

After you got ready to face the day, you called up Ro to see if he wanted to study together. But he was on a weekend trip to Nashville of all places. Next, you tried texting the group chat for the research center, but there was no way to elegantly say “please hang out with me!” without sounding crazy, so you gave up on that.

Eventually, you found yourself calling Merle, but the man sent you straight to voicemail. Twice.

For the next little bit you paced up and down the hallway like a petulant child, then you started arguing with yourself. You’d been alone plenty of times. Why was it such a struggle today?  You could just put in a Hitchcock DVD and veg out. Or you could do some research on that proposal due next week. You had plenty to keep you busy.

Ten minutes later, you were fed up listening to your own thoughts and packed your bag. You could at least study in the campus library. It was a beautiful building with lots of open spaces and windows. And you’d be surrounded by people, too.

Once outside, rain pelted you in the face and wind whipped at your jacket. You hadn’t even realized it was storming. However, the weather didn’t deter you in the slightest. You had an umbrella in the car, so you thought little of it and just got inside your yellow Bug as quickly as you could.

You put your key in the ignition and turned it. Nothing happened. You tried again, only to be met with a clicking noise.  Maybe the battery was dead. You had a tester kit in the back, along with a tire pressure gauge and various car fluids. Traveling alone all those years had taught you to be prepared.

You got back outside, trying to avoid the rain, but in no time your glasses were fogged up and covered with rain droplets. You took them off to clean them with your somewhat dry sweatshirt, but then lightning clapped. You yelped, jumped, and dropped your glasses. Thunder scared you immensely. Logically, you knew you weren’t in serious danger, but any hint of peril usually caused you to freeze up.

Trembling, channeled your inner Velma, getting on your hands and knees to find your glasses on the pavement. After a minute of searching, the rain pelting you stopped.

A voice above you said, “Lose something?”

The rough timbre set your skin on fire, despite the cold dampness of your clothes. You got to your feet and came face to face (well, face to chest) with Rick Grimes.

He held an umbrella over you while he stood in a police department rain poncho.  His scent hit you immediately, worming its way through your nostrils and into your belly, making everything in you come more alive. What’s more, your fear of the storm was eased away. 

A perfectly natural reaction. You were a frightened omega and he was a protective alpha.

“My glasses,” you said. “They may have gotten under the car somehow.”

A spark of light streaked across the sky, and almost instantly thunder boomed.

You shook again and instinctively grabbed Rick’s hand.

It was strong and slightly calloused, not nearly as rough as Daryl’s. Yet holding Rick’s hand reminded you of the first time Daryl had touched you. How certainty had flooded through you, how you knew he was your mate. You remember wanting nothing more than having Daryl fill you up with his knot and put his mark on your skin.

Now you wanted the same thing with Rick, which should be impossible. And what did it say about you? Not being satisfied with one mate, but your body demanding another?

Yet, you and Rick held tight to each other, your eyes staring into his as the rain poured around you. His eyes were soft but full of shock, his jaw clenched.

Suddenly he handed you the umbrella, then he bent over. When he stood up your glasses were in his hand. Instead of handing them to you, he put them in his pocket, took the umbrella back and continued holding your hand. Thunder cracked through the air again, and you found yourself willingly following him into his apartment.

Once inside, Rick finally let go of your hand. For the past month he’d been avoiding you, but when he saw you out in the rain, alone and down on all fours, his alpha instincts took control. Even now, he was struggling against them.

When you’d taken his hand, though you were frightened and simply looking for a protector, Rick found himself flooded with a nearly uncontrollable urge to make you his.  His cock grew hard, but there was something else inside him coming to life. He wanted to be yours. He wanted to protect you from any and all who might do you harm. He wanted you to hold him and soothe his own worries, wanted to lay his head on your chest as you played with his hair. And he wanted you to wear his mark.

As he helped you out of your coat, Rick could see Daryl’s mark, and a growl escaped him. You startled, and he tried clearing his throat to cover up the noise. Your scent had changed, but now it was even more intoxicating. He looked down at you, your hair dripping, your face so bare and empty without your glasses on it, and you struck him as off-kilter.  You needed his mark, on the other side of your neck. He’d share you with Daryl. In fact, his body and mind were so wrecked with need, Rick felt like the only way he could remain sane was if you let him claim you, everything else be damned.

“Rick?” you said, suddenly not the scared, whimpering omega you were outside, but now self-assured and assertive.

He couldn’t speak. He simply clutched your wet coat in his hands and stared at you.

“Can I have my glasses back?

He nodded, not speaking in case he growled again. He hung your coat on the rack and fished your glasses from his inner pocket.  

You took them, and asked, “Where’s the bathroom? I need to…dry off.”

He jutted his chin in the right direction and you quickly walked away from him.

Standing there, he wondered if this was how Daryl felt about you. Or if Daryl’s pull to you was even stronger, since you were true mates.

Supposedly.

What if you and Daryl had gotten it wrong? What if Rick was your true mate and Daryl just another alpha? But that didn’t seem right, either. Because then why did your new scent not repulse him? Why hadn’t he tried to take you from Daryl before?

His thoughts were interrupted by an emergency alert blaring from the television in the living room, where Rick had been tracking the storm system. They’d only even learned about the storm a couple of hours ago, which was really odd for a hurricane. 

You sat in Rick Grimes’s bathroom, staring at a kid's rubber ducky that judged you from its home in the middle of the bathtub.

What in the actual living hell was wrong with you? Being frightened was one thing, but holding Rick’s hand? Wanting to wrap his scent all around you? Wanting him to kiss you and make it all better?

You were sick in the head. Some insatiable omega, just uncontrollable lust and longing after one night without your mate.

You began to cry, sitting on the lid of the toilet as Daryl’s phone went to voicemail. You had to leave him a message, at least. “Daryl, I hope you’re okay. It’s storming here and I know you have all that stuff. I just--” Your voice gave out and a choked sob escaped. “Just worried about you. I love you.” You ended the call and blew your nose on some toilet paper. 

Did Daryl even have service where he was? You wished you’d asked what part of the forest he went to.  You wished Merle had answered your calls and could come and pick you up.

You called Ro next, letting yourself cry. You had to tell someone about this. And who better than your best friend?

“Heya,” he answered.

“Ro, tell me I’m a good person.”

“What? I mean, you are, but…Y/N what’s going on? Is it Daryl?”

“No…it’s…I don’t know how to say this.”

“It’s okay. Just start at the beginning.”

“There’s a storm--and you know how I am about thunder--and I just…My car wouldn’t start and I dropped my glasses. And Rick came out to help me, but the thunder was so loud--and I just grabbed his hand without thinking--and now---Ro I don’t….”

“Go ahead,” he replied, voice patient and calm. “I’m here. It’s gonna be okay.”

“When we touched, it was just like when I touched Daryl for the first time. Just…everything.  Like needing to stay near him, wanting him to claim me, just wanting to call him alpha and…it’s all the same, Ro!”

He was silent on the other end.

“But I’m Daryl’s, and I can’t…not being his, it’s like not being alive. Why can’t I…what’s wrong with me?”

Jesus shouldered his phone, and for the third time, lightly slapped Merle on the knee, trying to keep the man from bothering him as you cried in Jesus’s ear.

He took out his tablet and opened the weather app, wondering how in the hell a hurricane was about to bear down on Georgia. There’d been no warnings about it. The storm wasn’t huge, but could still do some damage. It was just the…surprise of it all. He handed the tablet to Merle, who mumbled “What in the hell?” as Jesus turned his attention back to you on the phone.

His heart beat fast in his chest, his mind putting pieces together. Strange weather, no warning.  It was a pattern he’d seen in his research, off and on. But to think it was happening now? Yet everything added up.  His dissertation had taken shape in his mind earlier this week: omega mating habits as predictors of catastrophe. Floods, plagues, wars…all of them preceded by a single phenomenon. Omegas with multiple true mates.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” he replied, getting his bearings.   “Can you let me talk for a minute? It’ll make sense, promise.”

“Okay.”

“Remember the AIDS epidemic in the 80s? Happened all over but mainly in the cities. New York is what we have the most information on. Just before that, about 1% of the omega population, claimed to find two mates. People weren’t as open-minded then, so I’m guessing there are more who never registered with both mates."

“Yeah, you told me about this the other day, I think.”

“Y/N, it’s not just a thunderstorm out there. It’s a hurricane. Going to make landfall in a few hours.”

“What…Ro…what does this have to do with anything?  I wish you were here. I wish Daryl was here…”

“Listen, please,” he begged. “Hurricanes in November? With no warning?  That’s a big deal! It’s going to do some damage for sure.  But you need to be strong. You’re very important right now.”

“I’m not…I’m just a person. A person with a fucked up libido, but just a person."

Ro ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “It’s time to consider that you might have two mates.”

You’d been in the bathroom for almost twenty minutes, making Rick worry you’d somehow hurt yourself in there. He pounded on the door when the second alert sounded from the living room.

“Y’alright in there? We gotta get to your place and pack a few things. Storm’s coming. Need to head to a shelter.”

Instantly, the door swung open, and there you were, phone clutched in your hand.  Your eyes were puffy and red-rimmed.

God, how he wanted to hug you, pull you to his chest and take care of whatever had upset you. One of his hands flinched. He shoved it into his pocket.

“I know. A hurricane. Merle said Daryl would be okay. There’s a cabin with a root cellar, but I think Daryl’s scared. I don’t know if he’s just worried about me. I’ve never…never been anywhere near a hurricane before.”

Your voice was shaky, and Rick put his hands on your shoulders. His thumbs just barely touched the skin beyond your t-shirt. “Here’s what you do, Omega. You show him you’re fine. You let him know you’re safe. Then see how he feels.”

You nodded and closed your eyes. A couple of tears escaped, and Rick turned away from you, to protect you from himself.

A moment later you said. “He’s okay.”

Rick nodded, walking from the bathroom and toward the door out of the apartment. 

“Rick, I--”

Your voice was small again, timid. He turned and cocked his head, wishing so much that he had a bond with you, like Daryl did. So that he could know right away what was wrong and how to fix it.

“Bunny.”

The word fell from his lips, a shock to himself.

You furrowed your brow.

“Something Daryl said once. When you’re scared, you look like a bunny in a bear trap.”

“Oh.” You looked down at the floor.

“It’s not too feminine, is it?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think bunny is gender specific. But Rick, I--I don’t know what to do. I want--I need Daryl. Without him…”

Rick made it across the room in two long strides. Your scent was all over his apartment, lavender and pine, almost like Daryl was here, too. And Rick did something he told himself he’d never do.

He reached for you. His hands took you by the hips and pulled you to him. His arms went around your soft, round body. His nose buried itself in your hair. On the job, he sometimes held an omega who was having a meltdown. It was one of his duties. For him, it had never been sexual or romantic, just a simple human connection. 

Holding you should have been like that.

It wasn’t.

“You need to be strong,” he told you. “You’re not alone, are you? And I’ll take care of you until Daryl gets back or the storm passes, whichever’s first.”

“What if…what if it upsets Daryl when he realizes I went to you for help?”

Rick took a deep breath and let you go. The ghost of your shape had embedded itself in his mind, his body.

He looked into your eyes. “If you were mine, and Daryl was here instead of me? I’d want him to do everything he could to keep you safe. He’s your mate, Bunny, and nothing can come between you two. Not even me.”

Next Chapter.

==

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[duelingbanjoestales]

In The After

Daryl Dixon x Reader 

Warnings: mentions of self harm, brief mention of panic attacks

word count: 1903

Summary: Daryl is concerned when he finds scratch marks on you, but lets you explain before patching you up.

Authors Note: A huge, gigantic, love filled thank you to @dreamingdixon for threatening encouraging me to be brave and post this. 💙 Love you so much Rosie

Daryl and I had just gotten back to our house after a long day out in the summer heat. I threw my stuff on the table and bounded up the stairs, "Dibs on the first shower!" I called back to him. "Dammit, no fair woman!" I heard him yell up at me, making me giggle as I entered the bathroom and turned the shower on to start heating up. I took my time unbraiding my hair and then peeled my damp shirt off. I began unbuttoning my jeans when the door swung open and I jumped back, "Son of a-oh!" it was Daryl, his eyes wide in surprise as he stood in the doorway. His large frame taking up most of the space. "I uh-sorry I figured you would already be in the shower. I was gonna-" he cut off mid-sentence and reached out a hand to my chest right next to my left shoulder. "What happened?" I backed away a step. "Nothin." he stepped closer, backing me into the countertop. 

“Then why do you have a bandage on your shoulder?" I crossed my arms in front of me defensively.  "Jus’ do." I shrugged. Daryl lifted his hands to the bandage and slowly peeled it off while I wince, avoiding eye contact as the bandage tugged at my skin.  When it was pulled off completely, he threw down the bandage onto the counter next to me, it was covered in my blood and Neosporin. "Who the hell hurt you?!" he roared at me, grabbing my shoulders with his hands and shaking slightly. I glanced up at him, his eyes were full of fire. 

"No one!" I reached up and grabbed his hands, prying them from my shoulders and holding them in mine. "Then why the hell are there scratch marks on you?!" he pulled one of his hands away and pointed at the three scratch marks on my chest. "Don't worry about it," I said, releasing his other hand and covering the scratches with my palm, wincing as a result of the pressure against the wounds. "Did a walker scratch you?" grabbing my face between his fingers, his eyes linger on mine as I felt tears beginning to well, threatening to spill over.

"No. No, no one hurt me." I shook my head as I held his gaze despite the blurry tears. I couldn’t blink, I felt terrible for making him so worried about me. 

"Then what happened?" I pulled my face from his hands and sat on the counter, pulling my knees to my chest as tears started to roll down my cheeks. "I did." He blinked and stared at me for what felt like an eternity. "You did?" Nodding in response, I rested my chin on my knee. "What do you mean you did?" He steps closer as he asks, pushing the hair from my eyes. I dropped my knees down and stood back up, face to face with Daryl. "I had a panic attack the other night, and when I have them I end up doing repetitive motions.” I began pacing around the small, steamy bathroom, ignoring the shower still running in the background. “Sometimes scratching myself is one of those repetitive motions. I don't even realize I've done it until it's over." Daryl doesn’t answer immediately - desperate to say the right thing.

He stepped in front of me to stop me from pacing anymore, then he pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. "Why didn't you tell me?" he said, so softly I could barely hear him over the sound of the water. "Tell you what? Tell you that I got scared and hurt myself accidentally? I figured you would have been mad." I whispered back, afraid I might break apart this moment if I spoke too loudly. His grip tightened around me and I knew I had struck a nerve, but I knew that when he got angry it was only because he cared. "I prolly woulda been, but better than you being alone and scared," he spoke a bit louder now, but still barely above a whisper “Promise you’ll let me help ya through it.” Daryl’s so gentle as his forehead comes to rest against mine, eyes fluttering closed as he speaks. His shuddering breaths feel like a knife through my heart, every exhale plunging it deeper and deeper. This was my fault - my fault that he was so upset. Hot tears rolled down both my cheeks and onto the tile floor, landing with a *plink.* I sniffled and he opened his eyes, pulling his face away from mine and replacing it with his hands once more, using his thumbs to gently wipe away the salty stains.

“Please promise.” He whispered again, and I nodded despite knowing I would probably do my best to not ever let him know my struggles. “I promise” I breathed it out so quietly I wasn’t even sure I had spoken aloud, but then he pressed his lips to mine - it was the softest kiss I had ever experienced, so barely there it made the concept of angels wings seem like they were made of glass shards in comparison. He pulled back and gave a smile, it was one of those small ones he does where the corners of his mouth pull up ever so slightly like he’s trying to keep a secret. Those smiles were like nicotine to me, the thought of living without them left me desperate for another drag, another inhale to fill my lungs with the thick smoke, swallow it down and let it consume me in the same way Daryl’s lips always did. The same smoke that would make my head swim in just the right way. 

“Sweetheart, why dontcha go ahead and get cleaned up before the water runs cold? Then I’ll bandage that up for ya.” Nodding, I turned to check the temperature of the water as Daryl finally left the bathroom, giving one last look at me over his shoulder before he pulled the door shut behind him. The water was starting to turn cold as I got in and I cursed under my breath, quickly scrubbing away the dirt and grime that had accumulated on my skin, hoping my guilt would wash down the drain with it. 

The pipes creaked as the water turned off - the stream merely reduced to drops, reminding me of the tears that had streamed down my cheeks not ten minutes ago. With the towel wrapped around me, I plodded down the hall and into the bedroom. Daryl was sitting on the side of the bed with his head in his hands, a first aid kit laid out next to him. When he heard me walk in he sat up and patted the spot next to him. He didn’t say a word as I crossed the room, my hair dripping onto the carpet leaving a trail behind me. I lowered myself down next to him and he brushed my hair away from the scratches. He took his time using a gauze pad to dab the water off of my skin before he spread some Neosporin on a fresh gauze and pressed it to my shoulder. The pressure of the gauze caused me to suck in air between my teeth. Daryl froze and his eyes snapped to mine, “I’m alright. Go ahead.” I told him and he resumed his task, his eyes flicking up to mine every once in a while to ensure I was alright.

He was so worried about me, it was almost funny. I had been injured countless times since the world went to shit, and yet this small trio of scratches had him more concerned than I had ever seen him before. His brow had been furrowed in concentration for so long as he carefully applied strips of surgical tape across the gauze that I was beginning to believe it might remain that way forever. I found myself smiling stupidly down at him as he applied the final piece of tape, “There, that oughta do it.” He said as he nodded his head matter of factly at his handiwork.

Pulling the towel tighter around myself, I stood up from the bed and walked to retrieve a pair of sweatpants from the dresser drawer. Daryl stood as well, and from the corner of my eye, I could see him rummaging around in his stuff. When I turned back around he was right behind me, close enough that our noses almost touched. You would think that after all this time I would be used to his noiseless movements, but every time he materialized behind me I jumped back, gasping in surprise. He chuckled, and raised a hand up, in it was one of his t-shirts. “For ya to wear. Know you like ‘em.” And he was right, they could be the exact same as my shirts but the fact it was his made it so much better. I took it from him and he pressed a kiss to my forehead and headed out the door. “‘M gonna shower now, darlin.’”

Pulling his shirt over my head, I smile despite the slight sting in my shoulder - the shirt smelled like pine trees, motor oil, and just the faintest hint of cigarette smoke. It smelled like home. As I sat down on the bed I realized that even though the scratches would leave a scar, the scar would be a memory, and that memory would not be of the panic attack that caused it, but of the man who fixed it. 

I crawled under the covers and tucked them up around my face as I lay on my side. The last rays of light were streaming through the window as my eyelids closed, too heavy to hold open any longer. 

The jostling of the mattress woke me up. I cracked open my eyes to see darkness, day had given way to the night. The bed dipped again as Daryl slid in next to me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me up against him, pressing a kiss to the back of my shoulder. I reached my arm around to press my hand to his cheek but stopped and winced from the sting in my shoulder. Daryl’s face came into view above me, his brows furrowed once more in concern, “What’s wrong? It hurtin’?” He asked, pulling the collar of my shirt - his shirt - aside to check the bandage. “A little but it’s okay. I’m okay.” I told him, rolling over to face him. Kissing my forehead and pressing his nose against mine, he whispers. “It’ll be alright. No matter what I’ll make sure you’re alright.” He pressed another kiss to my forehead, then nose, and finally my lips. “I promise you that. Do ya believe me?” He whispered and I touched my forehead to his, nodding, “Of course I do.” Daryl rolled onto his back, his arm still wrapped around me, and I followed his movements, placing my head on his chest. The steady thumping of his heart and Daryl’s arm around me lulled me to sleep, and for once I knew that it was okay. It was okay for me to be sad, lost, hurt, or scared. It was okay because there would always be an after. And in the after would be Daryl. In the after are these moments. In the after is Daryl.

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