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dixonlovebot · 5 months

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Feral for you

Daryl Dixon x Reader | Pt.2

Requested by anon. Delete this if it doesn't do anything for ya, but what about (were!??)Daryl coming to terms with the way he feels about a reader who's too soft and sweet? Walkers or no, he's head over heels but feels bad about it because damn if it doesn't feel like he'll get you dirty just by touching you. (But then he sees that you're stronger than he gave you credit for--or maybe you're even the same kind of "monster" that he is?!)

🐺 🐺 🐺

Ever since the prison you and Carol had been close friends. You were a Woodbury resident the group had saved and instantly became friends with her as you claimed your place in the makeshift kitchen.

Being there with her had you meeting Daryl fairly soon, and oftentimes more than once a day.

Seeing him reminded you of the time before you had arrived at Woodbury. Your group living in the woods, surviving off hunted down animals and other food stolen from anywhere you could get it.

It wasn’t until you were safe behind the walls you had become the proper citizen you were seen as today, in your neat outfits that even though they were made up of patched up and old pieces, still looked like they used to come from an expensive boutique.

Daryl noticed this about you. First thinking lowly of you, thinking you had never even seen a walker up close and managed to be walled off since day one.

The way you made sure to put your hair up in a nice do and seemed to always be clean made you an easy target to focus on so he was almost always staring at you when you were around. But after a while the reasoning for the stares changed. The way you walked, talked and even the way your scent seemed to make his inner beast howl.

Your interactions with the others never went unnoticed either. The way you handled the younger children with the sweetest smiles and softest touches. The delicacy of your medical practices or the focus with which you prepared the food he hunts and brings you. His hunts went from providing food for the community to hunting for animals to skin and gut so he has meat to bring to you. Often using his animalistic side to bring back a larger amount in the hopes of impressing you.

He'd usually retreat to get some rest after his trips, but ever since you joined Carol's side in your makeshift kitchen he'd been sticking around to watch you cook and smoke his cigarettes. And then of course make sure to not smoke anywhere too close to you because you probably disliked his dirty habits.

It wasn't long until Carol picked up on her best friend's actions and told him to quit worrying and shoot his shot.

He obviously didn't listen and scoffed at her assumption. "Yer crazy, woman." He'd said. "Tha' soft 'n sweet thing aint' fer me."

Where Carol heard it as Daryl not being interested in such a neat lady, he had really meant it in a much different way.

He'd kill to spend the day with you out in his bike, riding and scavenging. Showing you his entire self. That same self that had Carol deathly afraid of him for over a week before she finally dared to speak to him gain..

But also, you'd never be even remotely interested in his dirty old bike and his always wounded hands, his messy clothes and looks. He almost wanted to clean up and change himself for you but then he'd be lying to not only you but also himself.

So he never changed.

He kept eyeing you from the sidelines when you weren't looking, and with that never noticing you were doing the exact same thing to him. He loved bringing you the hunted ingredients as Carol collected home grown foods from Rick down in the field. Assisting in heavy lifting whenever he was near. He spent his time around you mirroring your kindness since he realized it made him feel good as well to help beyond just using his skills for hunting.

But of course everything had to go to shit again.

The prison fell, everyone split and you founds yourself in the surrounding woods with Beth and Daryl.

When the search for booze finally ended in an old shoddy place stacked with moonshine, Daryl learned you had a fairly high tolerance for the stuff as you happily kept playing round after round of Beth's dumb game well after Daryl had quit. He wasn't in the mood to show you he couldn't get drunk at all off this homemade booze no matter how much he'd chug and make you think he used to be a drunk in the old world.

He also learned you weren't too bothered by getting dirty in the woods.

And of course as soon as he thought those specific words he pictured a different kind of 'getting dirty' in the woods. Specifically getting dirty with his other half, who was big and strong enough to protect her while he made her feel good.

But no, you were friends and survival partners, in search of other surviving members of your group. Plus you were a soft human lady who would probably pass out if you saw him for the gross redneck monster he really was.

You ended up living in a surprisingly well-kept funeral home for a couple of days, getting scared by a dog once, and then twice as walkers suddenly roamed the house. You went to grab a weapon as you shouted for Beth to escape and soon following with Daryl right behind you.

But you weren't quick enough as you both watched the car that took Beth drive off.

Daryl took a full sprint following after it as you grabbed the bag and barely made it out of the street as you had lost track of not only the car but also Daryl.

And no way of turning back to the house as it was now filled with Walkers..

So you traveled alone for a while, being thankful for Beth's dropped bag that held mostly food.

You traveled along the tracks for a while, hoping others had the same idea but never finding anyone until you eventually after god knows how many days you ran into Rick, Michonne and Carl when you all responded to the same cry for help.

Seeing their familiar faces, together and alive had you cry out in happiness, crashing your entire body into Michonne's and holding on for as long as you could.

Rick immediately went back into cop-mode, seeing you all alone.

"Beth, taken.." a deep breath between words was needed to make yourself understandable. "Daryl ran after her.. couldn't keep up.."

Michonne rubbed your back as Carl came go hug you as well.

You traveled with them and settled on an abandoned car as your place to rest for the night. But rest wouldn't come tonight as a group of men surrounded you and quickly overpowered you all.

You and Carl were tucked away in the car as you awoke to a man's loud voice.

Surrounding you were multiple armed men, their leader counting down as he held a gun to Rick's head but stopping as a familiar voice rang through the midnight air.

'Daryl!' You recognized him in a second but didn't dare to call out for him as one of the men stood outside your window with a knife on display, waiting to strike.

You watched the scene in front of you, not clearly hearing due to you being inside of the closed off car.

Your daggers still rested uncomfortably against your hips, just like Daryl showed you how to wear them as he gave you and Beth quick hunting lessons.

You watched as they spoke, moving as undetected as possible to ready your daggers any time the man at your window looked away and opening the snaps that held them inside their holsters.

Daryl was now right in your view, dropping his crossbow and widening his stance and opening his arms.

You just stared though the window, confused with the whole ordeal as everyone was now very focused on the two men in the centre of the group.

Then a gun was moved from the side of Rick's head to now hold Daryl as its target..

Without a single second to rethink your plan you had your daggers unsheathed and stuck in the head of the filthy looking man you knocked out with the car door when he wasn't paying attention.

Hiding behind the car gave you just enough time of the men being distracted to sneak around and get the jump on the man who held Daryl at gunpoint only a second ago. As soon as he turned his head towards his men and bark a new command you had caught up to him, coming up from behind Daryl and stabbed the man in the arm and gut. As he dropped to the ground you kicked the gun and stomped on his chest, digging both daggers into his chest. A brutal snarl left you as you chose your next target, seeing most them either got taken care of by your friends or had ran off.

A low, gurgling noise came from the man beneath you, who you had now fully straddled and who's blood covered most of your front. With a gruff noise you spat in his face and roughly twisted one dagger in his chest cavity while you pulled the other out with a scrape against bone and shoved it down his throat.

Daryl watched you heaving, almost growling form as he held his crossbow at half attention in case the surviving members of the group came back. He knew it was highly unlikely seeing you just took out their leader with the most feral anger he had seen in a very long time.

Huffing you turned around, yanking the daggers from your victim and wiping them on your trousers before placing them back in their sheaths.

Looking up at Daryl, standing there with his jaw slack in awe staring at you covered in blood, bright glowing eyes and fangs out trying to calm your breathing.

You saw yourself in the reflection of Daryl's blue eyes and panic set in. Your hands flying up to cover your mouth and averting your gaze and closing your eyes, begging yourself to just calm the hell down and hide away again.

The others stood at a distance now, offering the two of you at least a little bit of privacy.

The tears you tried to hold back threatened to spill as your breathing just would not even out. Not until a clattering sound caught your attention and in your turn to look behind you a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and your tears were softly kissed until you were breathing okay again and the tears had stopped.

"Yer okay, pup. Yer more than okay." He softly hushed you, making sure you were looking at him as he showed you his own hidden self. A pair of bright blue eyes accompanied by sets of fangs that made yours look like baby teeth. The tips of his ears poked out of his hair even more now as they had grown into a slight point. With a smile you raised your hand and brushed your fingers along the edge as he pulled you closer to him. He made a point of having you feel the claws at his fingertips as he pressed you against him before pulling you into a kiss.

"Don' think I've ever seen a girl go so feral over me."

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: Thankyou for this request, Anon!! I had fun writing this one when I finally figured out how to do the plot twist ♡♡

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl #twd #fic list

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dixonlovebot · 6 months

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Let’s Get Lost Chasing Stars

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria/Commonwealth Era

Warnings: None

Summary: You could watch him sleep forever.

You stretched, unfolding from your cocoon of blankets as your limbs eased away from your body. Your feet came into contact with something soft. That something gave a huff of annoyance and jumped off the bed, the telltale click of claws tapping against the floorboards before you heard the heavy thud of a body collapsing onto the rug.

If Dog was there, that meant—

You flipped onto your side, finding your archer somehow still sound asleep. It was still nighttime, you reminded yourself. Though he must have come back from the run late, he had showered. His hair was still damp and you were pretty sure that the nakedness you could see all the way down to where the sheets pooled around his hips didn’t stop there.

You quickly but reluctantly reined in the desire that was warming the apex of your thighs. Down, girl! There’d be plenty of time for that once he had several hours of well deserved rest. For the time being, seeing him sprawled out on the bed the two of you shared, without pain or worry constantly etched onto his face.

You crept closer, knowing that Daryl was a light sleeper and the tiniest of sounds or movements could rouse him in most cases. You simply wanted to watch him, be present during a peaceful instance. They were so few in this dystopian world.

He was lying on his back, one arm across his abdomen while the other was down against his side. You were lucky enough that his face was turned toward you. You laid back down on your pillow, your hands up under your cheek. He didn’t look real. The way the moonlight cast shadows in just the right places made him look like a painting.

There were the softest movements of his eyes beneath closed lids; he was dreaming. There were no whimpers. No twitches or creases of his brow. It wasn’t a nightmare. You were thankful for that. Daryl had lived enough nightmares for two lifetimes.

His lips were parted the slightest bit, making it near impossible to resist kissing them. You did though. You wouldn’t risk waking him. So you lifted your gaze to the scarring near his left eye. He had never told anyone else how he got it, but you knew. He told you everything.

You felt butterflies flittering about in your stomach. He always managed to make you feel that way without even trying. He was sound asleep and still pulled it off somehow.

You moved on to his chest. You could still see the toned muscle even if age had softened him the slightest bit. It was the same with his abdomen. You supposed that’s what being a provider and protector in the apocalypse could do to a body. That spurred your thoughts in a darker direction: his scars.

You could see the outlines of raised mars against the smooth surface of his skin. The end of the world wasn’t responsible for so many of his hurts but you could thank it for several. Many of them were ones you had been there to care for and assist in healing. Below the surface, his back and knees always ached. He’d never complain but you would see the winces and the pinched expressions.

You closed your eyes tightly, willing away the tears that threatened. You couldn’t stand the thought of him being in pain of any nature. There was a deep breath from beside you, your first thought that you had woken him. He turned toward you, on his side, but remained blissfully unaware. His hair had fallen across his face, tempting you to brush it away before it had a chance to tickle his nose. You were careful, movements slow and deliberate. Your task was complete and you had still managed to not awaken him.

The silver band on your ring finger lit up with moonlight as you drew back your hand and you smiled. All those years ago, at the quarry, if any of them had said you would marry the foul-mouthed, hot-tempered archer, you would have pulled a muscle laughing. If they had said you’d be here, in this moment, with your two children sleeping soundly in their own rooms down the hall, you would have accused them of madness.

A boy, with your smile and Daryl’s eyes, shy but clever.

A girl, the spitting image of her father but with two helpings of your personality.

Add in the dog with more attitude than any of you and you had your perfect little family.

It was those thoughts that urged you closer to him, gently grasping his tattooed hand to place it over your hip so you could press yourself into his warmth. He stirred, raising his head so you could position yours just underneath his chin.

“Can’ sleep?” He mumbled in a sleep-addled rasp. You hummed and snuggled closer. You could feel the weight of his arm around you grow heavier as he relaxed again.

“You’re so handsome.” You kissed the area just above his nipple. He chuckled, the sound vibrating in his chest.

“M’sorry we can’t getcha any glasses.”

It was your turn to laugh, your fingertips pinching the area just below his ribs. The archer only pulled you closer.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Ain’t gotta tell me twice.” He yawned. “Kids’re goin’ to Carol’s later.”

Your hand stilled where it had been grazing up and down his side. “How come?”

“Cause I’m too tired righ’ now ta say hello properly.” He shift onto his back and pulled you right along, your weight settling halfway on top of him. “And tha’s gon’ take a few hours at least.”

You snorted. “Is that the reason you gave Carol?”

“Told ‘er ya gotta a bug up yer ass n’ wanted ta clean without trippin’ over kids.”

“She knew that was a lie, didn’t she?”

“Saw righ’ through it.”

You chuckled quietly and allowed yourself to melt into the warmth of his embrace, suddenly too tired to think clearly. Judging from his deep, even breaths, Daryl was already out cold.

Your last thought before letting sleep claim you was how ironic it was that it took the end of the world for you to find everything you could ever want.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x you #📖 fic list

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dixonlovebot · 7 months

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The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon | 1.03 "Paris Sera Toujours Paris"

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dixonlovebot · 7 months

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INSANE BLOODY RICK GRIMES. WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK BABY!!!!

#I CANNOT FUCKING WAIT LIKE SERIOUSLY #the walking dead #twd #the ones who live #rick grimes #michonne grimes #rick and michonne

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dixonlovebot · 7 months

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My Blood is Singing with Your Voice

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Shameless, poorly written smut

Summary: There’s a time and a place for certain things. You and Daryl just really don’t care.

You loved when he came to you like this. He didn’t care where you were when he craved you, he would find some place to have you then and there. For someone who had always been so quiet and shy when it came to emotions, it was an absolute thrill to see him stalking toward you with his pupils blown and his tongue wetting his lips as if your nectar had already soaked them.

Daryl’s mouth was on yours the second the door closed behind you. The kiss was sloppy, needy, and damn, if it didn't send a jolt straight down to your pussy. His hand was there, cupping your mound through your panties. He groaned into your mouth when he felt the dampness that had already befallen the cotton material.

You were extremely thankful to have worn a skirt that day. Otherwise, the man would have probably shredded your jeans to get to your cunt. Your panties were already a casualty of war. Rest in peace.

The archer wasted no time in pressing his index finger inside you, your wetness enough to have the entirety of the digit slip in without resistance. You moaned and pressed your head back against the door, your legs spreading wider in a silent plea for a second offering. He obliged eagerly, his middle finger joining the first.

The push and pull of his hand against your wet center was producing the most obscene, sinful sounds in the small room. Your whimpers and moans only added to the debauchery. When the flat of his tongue pressed against the side of your neck to carve a wet trail up your jaw and end at your mouth, you allowed your hips to join the fray, grinding against the heel of his palm each time he pushed into you.

“Fuck, that feels good.” You moaned. You could feel a flame spark to life deep in your belly, a spring coiling tighter and tighter. While you knew from experience that he could fingerfuck you straight into oblivion, you weren’t ready to give him that satisfaction today. With a small sound of protest against your own actions, you grabbed his wrist at the same time you bit down on his bottom lip, earning a delectable growl against your mouth.

You pulled his fingers out of you and shoved him back against the storage shelf behind him, dropping to your knees in front of him. Daryl was panting when your gaze locked with his, his hand going straight to your hair before you had even freed him from the confines of his underwear.

Air had barely touched the sensitive skin of his cock before your mouth engulfed him to the hilt. You gagged as you always did but you knew he liked the way it felt when your throat would constrict in an attempt to push him out. “Goddamn.” His fingers tightened in your tresses but he let you control your pace. He just didn’t expect you to go at it as if trying to suck his soul out through his dick.

You whined and actually tried to hold on to the belt loops of his jeans when he pulled you back, but you knew it was futile. Besides, it meant you were seconds away from being impaled on that gorgeous cock that had been so unceremoniously pulled from your mouth.

Daryl grabbed handfuls of your ass and lifted you to his waist, thrusting inside you in one fluid motion. You both groaned, his head falling against your shoulder while yours fell back against the shelving unit.

That moment to adjust was your only reprieve.

The archer set a brutal pace, fucking screams out of you like a man possessed. He wasn’t exactly quiet himself with his grunts and appreciative groans. The shelves were shaking, items falling around your bodies but you were both way too far gone to care. You were clawing at the leather on his shoulders while he bit into the skin above your collarbone. There was just something about fucking in a public place that had you both cresting within minutes.

Your legs shook and your thighs pinned his hips to you while he groaned lowly against your neck, coming down from his own high. The two of you remained there for a moment to catch your breath before the archer allowed one of your legs to lower from his waist, then the other.

“I think I have a toothbrush up my ass.”

Daryl chuckled and zipped his dark jeans, watching you compose yourself. “Should’na chose the supply room.”

Your jaw gaped, your hands frozen with your hair halfway pulled up to a ponytail. “I was working, Mr. Dixon! And now I have to finish the day without underwear!”

“Don’ bend over.” He smirked and leaned around to grab the offending toothbrush as well as a jar of oats from a different shelf. He pressed the toothbrush against your chest, your hands automatically coming up to grab it while he kissed your cheek and then scooped up the remnants of your panties to shove into his pocket. “Give that’n to tha’ Spencer fella.”

“Daryl Dixon!” You shouted, a little more than mildly amused. With the item still in your hand, you followed him out into the main hall.

“Gotta go! Carol needs this!” He held up the oats and exited without looking back.

You snorted and shook your head. The sound of a throat clearing made you flinch and drop the toothbrush with a squeak. Olivia was standing on the stairs, arms crossed and blinking at you in what you assumed was supposed to be her annoyed expression. The woman was so unabashedly kind that the attempt just made her look…constipated.

“Hey, Olivia, didn’t hear you.”

“I wish I could say the same, Y/N.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #📖 fic list

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