i'm officially moving all my fanfic and rick grimes chaos to my main blog rather than keep things posted here.
✧ FOLLOW ME: @officergrimesloml
✧ this is where all my future fanfic updates will be posted
✧ it will also contain more rick grimes content ofc
✧ i am basically reviving my main blog after not using it in years. please review my blog rules when you get the chance!
peachygrimes will mostly be archived until further notice.
same writer. same vibes. new location.
pls follow + reblog so i can find my peeps :) love yall so much!
Chapters: 13/36
Fandom: The Walking Dead (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Rick Grimes/You, Rick Grimes/Reader, Rick Grimes/Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Super Slow Burn lowkey, Protective Rick Grimes, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, AFAB | Assigned Female at Birth Reader-Insert, Female Reader-Insert, Age Difference, Really slow start but I swear it's good, mentions of domestic abuse, Mentions of Child Endangerment, (Slight) Mentions of Parental Abuse, Dirty Thoughts, Sexual Tension, Implied Sexual Content, rick has dirty thoughts about you, you make him hard more than once
Summary:
Rick Grimes isn’t sure what to make of the prison’s newest arrival; you, the lonely pregnant girl whose boyfriend went missing a week prior. When he takes you in, it isn’t love, it’s survival. Slowly, Rick begins to realize over time just how much you and your unborn child mean to him.
Chapters: 12/36
Fandom: The Walking Dead (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Rick Grimes/You, Rick Grimes/Reader, Rick Grimes/Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Super Slow Burn lowkey, Protective Rick Grimes, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, AFAB | Assigned Female at Birth Reader-Insert, Female Reader-Insert, Age Difference, Really slow start but I swear it's good, mentions of domestic abuse, Mentions of Child Endangerment, (Slight) Mentions of Parental Abuse, Dirty Thoughts, Sexual Tension, Implied Sexual Content, rick has dirty thoughts about you, you make him hard more than once
Summary:
Rick Grimes isn’t sure what to make of the prison’s newest arrival; you, the lonely pregnant girl whose boyfriend went missing a week prior. When he takes you in, it isn’t love, it’s survival. Slowly, Rick begins to realize over time just how much you and your unborn child mean to him.
pairing: rick grimes x gn!reader
word count: 1.8k
summary: it's only been a little while since you and rick have made things official, which means there's only been a few times you both messed around with each other. you decide to give rick a nice surprise late one night; the sloppiest head he has ever received.
warnings: swearing, oral sex receiving (male), head pushing during oral, unprotected sex, creampie, minor slut shaming, minor dom/sub elements, size difference (rick is HUGE ok), bulge kink, references to reader's body being generally smaller than rick
a/n: this was originally written for @imallenthealienfr as a priv request but i tweaked things to fit rick x reader! hope yall enjoy!
Rick can’t bring himself to blink, let alone breathe. His mind feels like complete mush due to your warm tongue running along the bulging veins of his member. Deep down he’s wondering, how on this earth did he not suggest you do this sooner? Since moving to Alexandria, the two of you had truly only messed around a handful of times. Things have started slow, cautious. Rick didn’t want to do anything that might scare or break you.
But then you fucking pull out this trick and suddenly he’s putty in your hands. Had he been missing out this whole time?
The answer is yes, yes he has been missing out.
Leaning against the headboard of the shared bed, Rick peers down at the sight in between his legs; you’re on your stomach, half undressed and mouth full of big, heavy cock. There’s drool dribbling down your chin and pooling in between your fingers. It’s obvious you can barely fit half of him in his mouth, but you don't mind. You suck away like your life depended on it. The tip of Rick’s cock bulges out the side of your cheek like some provocative porno that will now be seared into his mind for eternity.
With a heavy gasp, Rick jerks his hips forward and listens to the way you gargle harshly. You pull your mouth away and inhale deeply for only a quick moment or two. It doesn’t take long to catch your breath. Smirking playfully, there’s a certain glint in your eyes that tells Rick he’s in for much more. The man relaxes further into the pillows and sighs heavily. There’s a bead of sweat pooling near his temple.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” you murmur, licking him like a lollipop.
You were going to be the fucking death of him.
He never tears his gaze as you part your pouty lips and shove him back into your mouth. The way your tongue hugs his cock so perfectly, mixed with how fast you manage to bob your pretty little head, Rick actually gets pissed off wondering where on earth you learned this. Clearly you held experience. How dare you pleasure a man that wasn’t him.
But then all those jealous thoughts are out the window right as you push your head down to the base of his cock, nose almost colliding with his curly hairs, causing his flushed tip to hit the back of your throat. The man’s eyes damn near roll to the back of his head, and yet you don’t fucking move. You just continue to choke on him like it was a casual affair.
Genuinely, going to be the death of him.
Rick groans, his fingers reaching forward to grasp locks of your hair. As if he’s punishing you for being too good at giving head, suspiciously good actually, he holds you in place and grins at how quickly you gag. The obscene sounds that spill past your stuffed lips make him crave more. He’s already so close, which isn’t a surprise, but he also knows that if he shoots his load down your throat now, he’s not sure he’ll have enough energy for anything more than this…and Rick is in desperate need to fuck his significant other into oblivion.
The man finally lets go a few seconds later. You pop off his cock, gasping for air and choking slightly. A string of spit connecting from his slit to your bottom lip glistens in the moonlight shining through the window.
“C’mere baby. Need you.” Rick whispers in a sultry voice.
The remainder of your clothes that clung to your sweaty figure were torn off within seconds. Then, you’re sitting on his lap like you belonged there. Rick’s rough, calloused hands knead the skin of your bottom like it’s some sort of prized possession; which it is, to him at least. While sitting on his lap, the ex-sheriff leans forward to give you a passionate kiss. Both your chests press against each other, giving you an opportunity to feel all the heat he radiates. Just that alone makes you smile.
The two of you move in time with one another, tongues swiping across each other’s lips to gain access to your mouths. Like a tango, you both trade saliva in between heavy panting. You moan softly, making Rick’s already wet cock twitch.
By the time you’re stretched out with the help of Rick’s thick fingers, you lower yourself down on him at an excruciating slow pace. Like earlier, Rick’s hands simply can’t stay off you and manage to glide all over your smaller frame, a silent way of encouraging you to take your time. He was a patient man.
No matter how often the two of you played beneath the sheets, your hole was always far too tight for either of you to handle.
Or, perhaps, Rick was just too large.
The stretch was damn near painful. Through the slightly numbing sensation, you can’t help but mewl softly and whine. Despite being one of the strongest defenders in Alexandria, and a respected member of Rick’s band of survivors, this proved to be the one and only feat that was fairly difficult to overcome. But Rick isn’t stupid. He can feel you fucking gushing down your thighs onto his lap right now, evidence you are thoroughy enjoying every second of the discomfort.
“Doing so good for me- fuck. Yes, just like that, nice and slow.” Rick encourages. He winces, not from being hurt, but from how goddamn tight you are. He lets his thumbs dip into your hips, pinching the fat there which makes you almost yelp. It’s a small action to remind himself this isn’t a fever dream. “Go at your own pace, baby. Take your time.”
If only Rick knew how close you are to cumming right then and there.
You finally sink all the way down and wrap your arms around Rick’s neck. While letting out a deep moan, you throw your head back and close your eyes, blushing like crazy. Your walls begin to twitch around the man’s cock, causing Rick to accidentally thrust upwards. The way you gasp makes him think he did something wrong. “You okay? Should we stop?”
“N-No!” you plead, biting your bottom lip. It takes some shifting around to grow more comfortable. You gasp once more, staring back at Rick with an expression that reads your mind is just as mushy as his own. Finally, after many seconds pass, you begin to lift yourself up. Then, you push back down and exhale deeply.
Rick was so fucking deep.
“Gosh, baby, you take me so well,” he whispers with that thick country accent that sends a tingle straight to your core, looking downward to watch the way both your bodies connect. He guides you up and down, smiling the whole time. “Always such a nice surprise to feel how tight you are ‘round my cock.”
“Oh, fuck!” you moan loudly. Rick groans under his breath once you begin to pick up the pace, suddenly slamming down harder than before. You take this opportunity to push your hands on his chest for stability. The way your cunt embraces him so eagerly catches you both by surprise.
You squeeze him like a vice each time you let gravity pull you down. Given how easily he begins to slide in and out of your wet heat, Rick digs his heels into the mattress and starts to snap his hips upwards. He has given up allowing you to go at your own pace; it was time for him to take over.
The two of you emit the most pathetic whimpers, which encourages him to keep going. You can’t hold back the noises because he was so goddamn deep. Meanwhile, Rick is a whining mess from the sight of that bulge that keeps protruding below your belly button each time he moves. He might cum just from seeing it.
Both parties are a mess on the bed. Whoever was staying in the same house was probably pissed off from all the noise. Not that it was either of your problems right now. The bedroom walls echo the sounds of huffs, cries, and skin slapping against skin repeatedly. There isn’t ever a moment of silence in the midst of the lewd actions. At some point, Rick dominates you and switches positions so that you’re back on your stomach, the side of your face pushed into the mattress. Your poor frame is so weak underneath his strength. All you can do is choke out a wrecked sob, begging your boyfriend to keep going. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”
Rick holds you by your hips and leans forward, sensually kissing your spine as he continues to pummel your drenched hole. “You’re so perfect, you know that?”
“Nng- fuck, I’m so close, please,” you sputter out. You can’t even comprehend what Rick just said, too focused on trying to reach an orgasm.
While Rick continues to pump himself deeper and deeper, there’s an increasing amount of pressure that accumulates in both your cores. As he picks up speed, his thrusts become unsteady. Both of you moan in unison. When you push back against the man, Rick lets out an audible sigh that is half growl, half groan. Out of reflex, he tightens the hold he held on your waist. He moves his head from your back and shifts upwards, kissing the shell of your ear.
“Taking me so well,” he whispers, his teeth grazing your earlobe, “gonna make me cum so hard, baby.”
Your breath catches ever so slightly at the dominating tone. Rick’s motions never soften; if anything, you could tell Rick was almost at his peak from how intense he rams into you. The next time he speaks, his breathing is evidently more labored than usual. “So-So good for me. Taking my cock like a good slut.”
Those are the words that end up tipping you over the edge. With wide eyes and mouth agape, your release makes you tremble and shake, spurting droplets of slickness onto the sheets below. Your entire body convulses from the powerful orgasm, making you moan loudly and clench hard around Rick.
You feel the tremble from his cock as he cums at the same time, making a mess out of your poor, abused body. Rick fills you without a second thought. The action triggers heat to bloom across your face, but you secretly loved it. You each exhale blissfully, completely caught up in the now peaceful moment. It takes a long while before anyone moves. Once he finally controls his breathing and slowly pulls out, Rick admires the way his seed drips down your flush thighs.
He immediately praises you, “Fuck, you did so good for me, baby.”
Completely dazed, and also trying to catch your breath, you offer him a ditzy smile. “That-That was so hot, Rick.”
The man smirks to himself, slowly crawling off the bed to find anything to clean his messy partner. As he comes back with a wet rag, he can’t help but admit, “Honey, that head you gave me? That was a…damn good surprise.”
A beat passes, then he continues, “Give me an hour and maybe you can do it again.”
pairing: daryl dixon x fem!reader
word count: 2.4k
summary: it was supposed to be a quick hunt with merle and daryl, short and simple. but after getting separated from the dixon brothers, you’re left to fend for yourself. survival in this new world is already difficult enough, so it doesn’t take long to fall apart. energy depletes, you become extremely dehydrated, and there’s a laceration on your forearm. right as you think it might be time to give up, you hear an all too familiar voice finally call out your name; your knight in shining armor has come to save the day.
warnings: swearing, angst, mild whumpee!reader, caretaker!daryl, trauma, hurt/comfort, minor injury, blood, implied stitching for injury but nothing detailed, merle being merle
a/n: inspo from this request! hope you enjoy, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
The echoes of the surrounding woodland are almost completely drowned out by the sound of a fast heartbeat pumping rapidly in your ears. Each step across the grassy terrain shoots pain from the bottom of your heels to your calves. Any ounce of adrenaline in your body was already dangerously low, warning you to take a break, but you couldn’t. Not after hearing him. You knew that voice from anywhere.
And in that moment, you’re thankful he never gave up on looking for you.
“C’mon, girl. I ain’t got all day!” Daryl screams your name again. His call comes from your left, causing you to twist your body just in time to turn in a different direction. For a moment, you nearly trip, making you work hard not to lose balance. The second time Daryl yells, you pick up speed.
You’d been hoping and praying this would happen for the last three days and nights. You were finally getting rescued from this literal nightmare.
The forest surrounding the quarry is dense, dark, and full of dangers. What should have been a quick hunt for food ended with the entire group getting split from one another.
It is partially your fault though; you were confident you could out run the walkers on your tail. You probably could have gotten away with it had Merle not decided to intervene. He shot at them from what felt like a mile away. He wasn’t actually that far, but by the time you caught your breath and looked back up at the spot he had been standing in, he was gone, vanished from your line of sight. No matter how many times you called after him, desperate to see somebody else in these woods that wasn’t already a walker, he never returned. Not even Daryl seemed to hear you.
So, you like to blame Merle for your recent disappearance, too. It only seems fair.
A rather deep, intense twinge starts in your chest from how hard your lungs were working. Without breaking, you run and run and run. Past trees, past the stream, past a handful of walkers trying to get a taste of the fresh blood running down your wrist. The wound on your forearm has opened yet again. It was clearly infected at this point; the skin was hot to the touch and pus would ooze out on occasion. If only you hadn’t slipped and fell on that damn rock. That thing was as sharp as a knife, leaving an open gash at least two inches in length.
God, you needed help. You needed someone to save you.
It doesn’t take much longer for your silent plea to be answered.
Daryl belts your name once more, and you finally see him.
You barely process that it is actually Daryl standing in the distance before you’re jumping into his arms. The moment he saw you, he let go of his crossbow and pulled you in. His warm, broad chest collides with your face at the same time you wrap your arms around his body. The man’s faint stubble digs into your scalp as he holds you close.
Daryl tries to pretend this isn’t affecting him in any way, but you can hear the tremble in his voice. He’s worried. “Where the fuck did you go? Ya good?”
You hide deeper into him, if it’s even physically possible. Panic rises as you sniffle, apparently crying without even realizing it. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh- I thought I was dead. I was going to die, Daryl. How am I not- I’m not dead.”
“Stop sayin’ tha’. Ya safe now, safe with me.”
There’s the tiniest little skip in your heart at his confession. But the moment is short-lived. Everything comes crashing down in a matter of seconds.
Your breathing begins to develop into quick, shallow gasps. Every part of your body hurts, so badly that you begin sobbing into Daryl’s shirt. Like jelly, your limbs begin to sway and wobble. The man, already alarmed, starts to subtly freak out.
His rough, calloused hands grip you by the shoulders and pull you back. Despite having little strength to stand, you last just long enough for him to press the back of his hand to your forehead. He hisses at the contact, all while there’s still thick tears streaming down your cheeks.
“Fuck, ya burning up. Got a fever.” Daryl glances around, catching sight of two walkers. Knowing there were predators closing in, and likely even more on the way due to your frantic running from earlier, he doesn’t waste time. “Fuck this. Hold on, I gotcha.”
Before you can collapse, he hooks one arm behind your knees while the other wraps itself around you. The movement jostles you back to reality. With wide eyes, you watch the world around you go blurry for a few seconds. Daryl holds you bridal style and manages to squat low enough to grab his crossbow from the forest floor. He grunts during the process, cursing under his breath. Then, he’s gone.
Daryl tears through the woods like a man on a mission. And truly, he was. He needed to get you back to the camp immediately.
“Daryl, am I going to die?” you whisper. With each step, your head bumps against him repeatedly. Deep down, you wonder if you’re being a burden. As though this entire rescue trip was pissing him off. That type of overthinking came from a multitude of interactions with him in the past. Sometimes, you were convinced he didn’t like you. Then again, you can’t think of a time Daryl has ever done anything like this for any other member of the camp.
“Not on my watch,” he murmurs back.
Although your eyes were blurry from tears, you saw the way your arm was beginning to stain his clothes. Your stomach dropped at the sight. This entire operation would have never happened in the first place had you been smarter. Silently ridiculing yourself, you begin to apologize. “I-I’m sorry, Daryl. I’m so sorry-”
“Not ‘cha fault. It was Merle,” he cuts you off, eyes growing darker with each passing second he thinks of his idiot brother, “he left your ass. I shouldn’t ‘ave run the other way when we were out there.”
Maybe this is his attempt at trying to apologize, but you can’t tell for sure. Not like it was his wrongdoing in the first place though. Daryl said so himself; Merle was to blame, which briefly alleviates your worries, but not long enough to distract you from the deep shit you got yourself into. Your heart beats quicker than usual, working overtime to keep you alive. It was obvious your body was beginning to fall apart after being on your own for the last three days with little food, water, and an obvious infection running rampant in your system.
Daryl must notice the way you begin to drift off. He can’t tell if it’s exhaustion or something else. He begs out of desperation, “Stay awake. Don’ go fallin’ asleep on me.”
You cry more, overstimulated in more ways than you could ever imagine. Twigs and dead grass crunch under Daryl’s boots as he continues to move swiftly. Over five minutes later, you hear faint chatter in the distance. Voices mingled amongst one another, conversation that carries itself in the breeze. Then, a loud booming voice shakes you to your core.
“Hey! Help! I got ‘er!” Daryl screams towards what you can assume must be the camp.
There’s louder commotion now, people running towards him with obvious concern. Survivors you had grown to call friends and family gathered close to find that you were very much alive, but just barely. Under the canopy of tree leaves and branches, you squint harshly. Although you were able to escape the rays of sun hitting your sensitive eyes, it easily highlights your obvious bruises and blood splattered arm. Somebody tries to take you from Daryl’s arms, murmuring hushed worries of you being infected with a bite, but he insists on holding you close, saying something in reply about how he won’t let you go. His thick fingers dig deeper into your flesh, afraid he might lose you again. That small gesture leaves a message loud and clear; Daryl let you go once, he’d be damned if he did so again.
Your body finally caves into the exhaustion only seconds after registering Daryl’s words. The rest of the outside noise ceases to exist. Black spots of varying sizes creep into your vision, and suddenly you feel as though you’ve been hit over the head.
It’s hard to tell how many hours have passed since that moment. You were frequently in and out of consciousness. The first time you stirred, there was a prickle of pain against the laceration. You cried loudly from the sensation, sobbing out of fear. The immediate surroundings hit your line of sight momentarily before you passed out again; Carol standing over you with a bloodied needle, Dale holding gauze behind her while also frantically informing the woman what to do, and who you can only assume is Daryl at your rightside on the floor of the RV while you laid on a bed.
The next time you awoke, it only lasted a couple minutes at most. A heavy dampness alerted your senses, causing you to scan what was unfolding in front of you. Lori stood over you with a wet rag, wiping your forehead to soothe the apparent fever. She appeared stressed beyond belief. Avoiding her gaze, you glanced to your side to see Daryl still there. Something heavy in your palm caught your attention after staring at him. His hand squeezed your own, the movement gentle and slow. As you slowly faded away into unconsciousness once more, all you could zero in on was the realization he hadn’t left you.
The blinds are shut inside the RV. Candles are lit, causing long shadows to dance on the walls. You’re still laying down in the back of the RV with a soft blanket covering your lower half. There’s a bandage wrapped around your arm, which throbs with an intensity that implies someone had tended to your wound. Everything aches down to your bones. Despite all of this, a familiar silhouette on the floor next to you softens your heart.
Daryl is also on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His long lashes blink slowly. It appears he’s beginning to drift off towards a deep sleep. Watching him makes you wonder not only how late it must have been, but how long he’d been awake. You stir on the uncomfortable mattress, inhaling sharply and stretching your legs. The hunter catches on immediately. In the darkness, he snaps his head towards you and shoots up from his spot on the ground, kneeling next to you to check in.
“What’s wrong? Somethin’ hurt?” Daryl asks.
You huff out a little laugh, but then end up coughing a moment later. It was obvious you were dehydrated. Hearing that little strain in your voice, he reaches to his right and picks up a water bottle. Twisting off the cap, he gently brings it to your dry lips. A few small gulps later, he pulls the bottle away and sets it to the side.
“What happened?” you ask him, eyebrows furrowed.
“Ya passed out. We brought ya inside the RV,” he explains, releasing a sigh in the process, “Carol and Dale patched ya up. Lori has been coming by every now and then to check on things.”
“And…you’ve been here too, right?”
There’s a few seconds of silence that follow afterwards. Daryl shifts uncomfortably, trying to avoid eye contact. He actually sounded like he was holding his breath. He finally admits, “Yea’. How’d ya know?”
Your head tilts closer to the man, taking in his features like a work of art. Everything he did saved your life. For that, you are extremely grateful. Without missing a beat, you reply, “I kept waking up. You were here each time, and…Daryl, I don’t even know what to say. Thank you-”
“I don’ need your thanks. I wasn’t gon’ let you die on me,” he shrugs, scanning your sore, weak body once more.
Since joining this group of survivors, Daryl has intimidated you. It was difficult to understand his intentions and why he acted the way he did. But in this moment, he was taking things in a direction you had never anticipated seeing from him; he was so vulnerable in front of you.
And suddenly, you have so much more respect for him than you ever did before.
A content sigh sneaks past your lips. While the circumstances of the conversation are heavy and unfortunate, you still find yourself positively lifted by Daryl’s admission. Without a second thought, you go to reach towards his head to tuck loose strands of hair behind his ears, but then the sharp pain you’d been feeling over the last couple days struck instead. You whine loudly on accident, entirely disturbed at how strong the stinging in your arm was capable of kicking you when you were already down.
You begin to complain, small tears pooling at your waterline. “Fuck, it hurts, Daryl.”
The sensation in general is horrible. Beneath your wrapped injury, you can feel what might be stitches rubbing against the material of the gauze. Your bottom lip quivers as you lie there in torment.
Suddenly, Daryl’s scooting closer and pats the top of your head. He smooths the frizzy, knotted hair and shushes you quietly. He tells you, “I gotcha, I gotcha. Ya gonna be alright.”
Even though you likely look pathetic as hell, you look at Daryl with longing. His eyebrows furrow together while staring into the depths of your eyes. His body language is significantly different than before. Instead of trying to hide from your line of sight, he looks directly at you like nothing else mattered. You silently hope this moment never ends.
After a bit, your breathing begins to slow and you nod your head. You whisper, “Please don’t leave. I’m scared.”
“I’m not leaving you. Promise.”
There’s a faint curl in your lips. It’s a very little smile that tells the man just how thankful you are for his presence. He continues to slowly pat your head, never tearing his gaze away from you. The rest of the night, Daryl Dixon is glued to your side. Even when Lori and Carol offer to take over for an hour or two, he declines. Not that he thinks their aid is inefficient, but he simply doesn’t like the possibility of something going wrong when he’s not there to save the day again.
And honestly, it’s all you need to fall asleep a while later; your knight in shining armor protecting you from harm’s way.
Chapters: 11/36
Fandom: The Walking Dead (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Rick Grimes/You, Rick Grimes/Reader, Rick Grimes/Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Super Slow Burn lowkey, Protective Rick Grimes, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, AFAB | Assigned Female at Birth Reader-Insert, Female Reader-Insert, Age Difference, Really slow start but I swear it's good, mentions of domestic abuse, Mentions of Child Endangerment, (Slight) Mentions of Parental Abuse, Dirty Thoughts, Sexual Tension, Implied Sexual Content, rick has dirty thoughts about you, you make him hard more than once
Summary:
In a world overgrown with death, Y/N carries life. She is haunted by a love she never buried, by a mystery no one could explain. Now, with a heartbeat growing beneath her ribs and silence where love used to live, Y/N walks through ash and memory. Rick Grimes sees her as another survivor — strong, guarded, necessary. When Rick offers shelter, it isn’t love. It’s survival. But grief has its own gravity. Some hearts learn to beat again, even in the ruins. And some endings aren’t endings at all.
pairing: daryl dixon x gn!reader
word count: 2.7k
summary: after slipping into daryl's bed during a horrible storm, he accidentally touches your butt in his sleep...but does wanting him to put it back make you a bad friend?
warnings: swearing, brief inappropriate touching, suggestive physical contact, daryl gets hard...twice...
a/n: this was supposed to be under 1k words but fuck me ig. inspo from this post <3
The sound of thunder booms across the prison yard, echoing off the concrete walls. Wind whips past the barred windows, infiltrating your ears with a deafening sound. Any chance to catch some sleep was long gone. The noise alone was terrifying, but then your mind was practically spinning at the mere thought of the barbed wire fences getting knocked to the ground. Fearful that walkers might infiltrate the cell block due to a reckless storm only causes your heart rate to increase.
A few minutes pass as you contemplate a plan of action. Rain splatters hard against the roof and somehow grows louder. Another violent crack in the sky makes you sit straight up. Within seconds, your chest feels tight with the type of pain that only comes from being overly panicked. Uneven breaths escape your lips as your thoughts focus on the only person who can calm you down; Daryl.
The moment your feet hit the cold floor, they’re carrying you in the direction of his cell. The door is shut for the night, but you ignore his silent warning sign that tells everyone else to fuck off. Daryl can be stubborn, abrasive even, but despite his unyielding attitude, there was an apparent soft spot for you. It was safe to say that there was some weird friendship brewing between you both. His occasional slips of empathy eventually built trust over time. Enough so that you’re positive he won’t mind this little midnight visit. Or so you tell yourself, anyway.
When Daryl stirs, your figure is hovering over him ever so innocently. Even in the dark room the man drinks in the sight of your beautiful eyes and long lashes. He almost mistakes you for an angel, under the influence he was dreaming this entire scenario. But the loudness of the storm brings him back to reality.
Then he’s wondering why the hell you’re in his cell in the first place.
“Fuck’s sake- wha’ the hell ya’ want?” Daryl mumbles angrily. The sound of his sleepy voice shoots a tingle down your spine; he sounded oddly cute despite being so pissed off.
“Can I lay with you?” you ask with a slight tremble. The shake in your tone was noticeable, making the man’s skin jump for a split second. He feared maybe you were hurt or worse, causing the protectiveness that has always settled deep within him to come alive.
“Why?” he rushes to ask, tilting his head to the side as he abruptly sits up. It seemed whatever had been bothering you captured his attention, tugging at the man like it was now his duty to come to your aid.
“I’m scared of the storm.”
Daryl rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, scoffing under his breath. He’s not even surprised you’re in his personal space for such a trivial reason. But somewhere between seeing you stand in front of him in that loose tank top and listening to those pathetic pleas, the man feels a rush of blood in between his legs. He hopes you can’t see the sudden bulge growing beneath his pajama pants.
Subconsciously, you brush loose strands of hair away from your face right as a flash of lightning clashes above the prison. He studies you for a moment, carefully considering the situation. He’s already very awake at this point, and so are you. The man knew damn well there was no way you’d fall back asleep by yourself. He exhales slowly as the thunder continues to reverberate forcefully outside.
Daryl caves in much sooner than he likes to admit. Maybe, deep down, he figures life is too short to push away this offer. To share the same bed with the only survivor at this camp who makes him double-take each time they cross paths…well, it was too good to be true.
He mumbles incoherent words under his breath and pushes himself to the side, pulling back just enough of the sheets to expose the now empty side of his mattress. He had never done this with you before, so he pretends that trying to find a comfortable position is of more importance than watching you crawl into his bed.
Daryl shifts restlessly before leaning back, slipping his hand behind his head as the pillow dips beneath him. Meanwhile, you try your best to ignore the flush on your face as you tuck your legs underneath the warm blanket and roll onto your stomach; your preferred sleeping position. You’re lucky the man happened to have another pillow with him. He shoves it in your direction half-assed. You murmur a small, “Thank you.”
Staying true to his typical, quiet behavior, Daryl only grunts in response.
A streak of lightning illuminates the room, then another shortly after. Daryl turns his head in the opposite direction of your own. Left to put your focus on something else, you decide to stare absentmindedly at the cell door instead. Watching and listening to the storm seemed to be an easier feat when there was a warm, sturdy body near you. Not just anyone, but Dixon himself.
Somehow, even in the midst of the chaos outside, you could just barely hear the way his breathing eventually steadied and softened into a rhythm that left you feeling…safe, protected. The atmosphere in the room isn’t quite comfortable, but it isn’t hostile either. You’re hyperaware of every little detail. Daryl’s scent is the most notable; it's intoxicating, deep in the woven threads of his blanket that it seems to completely surround you. The warmth of his body feels so natural despite neither of you ever being in this position before. Yet, you wouldn’t have asked for a better person to be with during such a scary night.
Time seems to move in slow motion for the next couple hours. Eventually, the torrential downpour let up only a bit. Thunder was rolling further in the distance, but remained loud and obnoxious. You hadn’t moved more than an inch at most from your spot on the shared bed. All that had changed was the way you eventually pushed the blanket down your legs due to the suddenly hot space. You blame Daryl for the way his body acts like a damn heater.
Still on your stomach, your eyes flutter shut. Flickers of day dreams cross your mind; images that weren’t quite real but didn’t feel like they were part of a made-up world either. However, even exhaustion couldn’t get you to ignore what comes next.
In the dark, something brushes against your bottom. A moment later, it rests there.
Whatever made contact with your body was warm, large, and has five digits that dig into the exposed skin under your shorts.
It only takes a few seconds to realize it’s Daryl’s hand.
Heat blooms up your neck. The rest of his body is completely still, resembling your own current physical state. Daryl inhales gently and lightly smacks his lips, mumbling a vague word in his deep sleep. The touch must be accidental, considering his breathing remains slow and steady, but your stomach pools with warmth at the touch. Whatever oxygen had been previously left in your lungs was stolen from you.
You can’t help but wonder…is this intentional? Did he know what he was doing in the first place? As you ask yourself these questions in your head, Daryl’s fingers settle further down the curve of your backside, practically slipping into the little crease of fat that comes between your bottom and the backs of your thighs.
A strangled gasp emits from your lips at the touch. Without much of a second thought, you ask aloud, “Daryl?”
The man next to you doesn’t seem to hear the call of his own name. All you get is silence in return. You repeat yourself as a rather feeble attempt to see if he’s truly asleep. “Uh, Daryl? You awake?”
Your eyes widen at the feeling of Daryl finally shifting in his sleep. His fingers squeeze you briefly before releasing again. The sheets rustle as the man stretches his legs, letting out a rather long, loud exhale. He whispers back, “Wha’?”
Your heart falls into your stomach. Shit, so he’s awake, now what do you say?
The question comes out before you have time to process it.
“Are you…touching my butt on purpose?”
You’re not sure you’ve ever seen the skilled hunter react so quickly before. Daryl immediately pulls his hand back as though he had been setting it on a hot frying pan this whole time instead. You can practically feel the embarrassment radiate off him. He sucks in a sharp breath and coughs afterwards. Out of shame, the man abruptly turns onto his side. The way he reacts makes you flinch. Briefly, you regret bringing it up in the first place…mostly because you actually miss the feeling, which comes as a shock more than anything else.
“Fuck, shit, ‘m sorry.” he mumbles, shoving his face into his own pillow hastily.
You take this chance to lift your upper half, resting your weight on your elbows to get a better look at him. The dark room doesn’t help the situation at all. You can barely see him, and it appears he’d rather keep it that way. His broad shoulders are all you can make out as he softly groans to himself.
Not that you can see, but Daryl’s freaking out. So much so, that he can't stop clenching his jaw. There’s nothing else he can do now but dig his own damn grave. The man fears he may have stopped breathing for a couple seconds at one point. God, now he feels like a piece of shit. He wonders, why are you still here? Why haven’t you left already?
Daryl Dixon can handle the end of the world like it's nothing. But this right here? God, he thinks he might actually have to run away from the prison tomorrow morning. Just up and leave so he doesn’t have to catch sight of your pretty face staring at him like he’s a freak from this moment forward. He’s already cataloging everything he needs to pack on his bike. The supplies, what necessary clothes he might need, where he’s hidden his extra knives.
Goddamnit, his stomach churns at the thought of leaving you behind. But he feels like he genuinely has to now.
Because, he wonders to himself, how do you fuck up that badly the first time you share the bed with someone? Not just someone, but you of all people.
Daryl’s complete stillness is torture. There’s still a heavy patter of rain outside, but no big storm could mask the awkwardness between you and your friend in this tight cell. You lick your bottom lip, pulling it in between your teeth. Heavy silence fills the void for many long, agonizing seconds. The tension is so thick, someone could cut it with a knife. The way Daryl shields himself…you hate it. Not once has he ever displayed this type of behavior specifically towards you before. And you’ll be damned if you let it continue.
“Daryl, it’s not that big of a deal.” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady. The reassurance falls short, however.
“Fuck off.” he spits back. The venom in his words stings like a burn, but you choose to ignore it. You understand why he’s so upset. Had you been in his position, maybe you would have done the same.
Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “Daryl, I didn’t…I-I didn’t mind you doing that. Really.”
He stops breathing.
Anticipation builds in Daryl’s chest. It coils so tight, he swears he might snap in two. The possibility of touching you in that way again, it feels wrong…yet so right. His fingers clutch the bundle of sheets that rested in front of his chest.
Daryl finally turns onto his back once more, head lulling to the side of his pillow to get a better view of your beauty. Some of his loose hair falls forward and shadows his dark eyes.
“Fuck you just say to me?” he snaps, but there’s less agitation in his voice now. If you didn’t know any better, he sounds genuinely curious.
It’s not the exhaustion talking when you go to respond to Daryl. “I said I don’t mind. It wasn’t weird to me.”
“Then why did you-”
“Oh my gosh, Daryl just fucking put it back already.”
Both you and Daryl stare at one another, your pulses throbbing loudly. Your request hangs heavy in the air, so long that you’re scared that maybe you just made a fool of yourself in the end.
In reality, Daryl is speechless because he hasn’t heard anyone talk to him so directly about such an intimate topic. He doesn’t face trials such as this one very often, if at all. In a world as broken as this one, he’s meant to hunt, protect, and survive. His mind is constantly in fight mode. So when the voices in his head whisper to pull you in, to hold your body close to his own and never let go, his breath hitches slightly.
Daryl didn’t think he was deserving of this sort of treatment. He was as shattered as the rest of earth currently was. He wondered, what did he do to deserve you?
You sigh and tear your line of sight away from the man and turn towards the door instead, plopping back down on your stomach. It’s a poor attempt to hide your red face. You couldn’t stand the idea of letting him stare at you any longer, especially considering how vulnerable you felt.
You shut your eyes to try and escape the situation you put yourself in. Regret courses through your veins. Had you just stayed in your own cell, this would have never happened in the first place. After what feels like ages pass, you hear the body next to you stir slightly. All that you can hear at first is the creak of springs in the mattress under his weight. Then, his body slowly gravitates closer to your own. Your temporary heater was up against you once more, making it hard not to smile at the proximity.
Something restless disturbs the man all the way down to his core. Something so strong that he can’t believe what he does next.
Daryl’s hand comes back to your bottom. The contact causes an explosion of butterflies to erupt in your stomach. He doesn’t squeeze your delicate flesh, nor does he travel further down the seam of your shorts, but he keeps it held in one spot like he didn’t plan on letting go. A slow smirk curves your mouth, and you realize it’s difficult to hold back any sort of reaction. You feel your lips part in a near quiet, involuntary exhale.
He could tell you were content now, and for that he’s not quite sure what the hell this means between the two of you down the line. All because of his hand, there’s an obvious shift in the atmosphere now. Something neither of you can ignore.
“Fuckin’ weirdo.” he murmurs under his breath, pleased at the sound you had released a few moments ago. Daryl can’t help but tease you. It’s his form of retribution. You're the reason why his pants are constricting right now. While holding one of the most intimate parts of your body, Daryl can’t help but let his mind wander a bit, and it’s entirely your fault, of course.
“Shut up.” you hiss back at him, but Daryl can hear the smile in your voice. Before closing his eyes for the rest of the night, his gaze travels down once more. He takes a glance at your frame under the palm of his hand and gulps.
“Whatever.” he says flatly.
You try to contain the faint giggle that hiccups from the back of your throat, but you fail miserably. It makes Daryl’s heart skip a beat at the sound.
Somehow, later that night, the two of you slip into an unexpected position. Still asleep, Daryl had turned onto his side again, this time his other arm coming to wrap itself around your waist. Knocked out cold from the eventual exhaustion, you mirrored the man's position and pulled yourself up to your side, falling flush against his warm chest.
Both of you slept heavier than you had in months. Only when the sun finally rose and the rainclouds dispersed did the two of you finally awake and quietly acknowledge the change in your relationship. It didn’t require a label, but both of you realize that this isn’t something close friends do.
But you’d rather die to a walker bite than have to go another night without Daryl Dixon’s warm hands.
Hey love! Just wanted to ask about your latest post - what’s your main tumblr account? 😊
hello love! i'm so glad you asked. everything is moving to my blog, @officergrimesloml
i hope yall don't mind this shift! i abandoned that blog for a long, long time, and now i want to bring it back. i will continue posting updates on ATEWB and any other TWD content that i create. the only difference is that you might also see some harry potter/invincible content in your feed as well :)
hey yall!!!! sometime in the next few days or week, i am moving all this to my main account on tumblr so i can start a mixed fandom account rather than keep things separate
not much is going to change if im being honest. i will still post my ATEWB updates, reblog shit about rick grimes, and perchance randomly rant. the only difference is that you might see harry potter and/or invincible related posts as well :)
hope yall dont mind. i'd rather do this now than later lol thanksssss
sometime in the next month or so i think i am going to move this blog to my primary account. i don’t have all the details worked out yet but yeah im figuring it out
lowkey abandoned my primary blog a while back…like 3 years ago….. i feel bad for my followers bc i wrote a lotttt of stuff on there then dipped one day. i just hadn’t returned bc i kinda felt guilty i guess? now i wanna go back
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 10/36
Fandom: The Walking Dead (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Rick Grimes/You, Rick Grimes/Reader, Rick Grimes/Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Super Slow Burn lowkey, Protective Rick Grimes, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, AFAB | Assigned Female at Birth Reader-Insert, Female Reader-Insert, Age Difference, Really slow start but I swear it's good, mentions of domestic abuse, Mentions of Child Endangerment, (Slight) Mentions of Parental Abuse, Dirty Thoughts, Sexual Tension, Implied Sexual Content, rick has dirty thoughts about you, you make him hard more than once
Summary:
In a world overgrown with death, Y/N carries life. She is haunted by a love she never buried, by a mystery no one could explain. Now, with a heartbeat growing beneath her ribs and silence where love used to live, Y/N walks through ash and memory. Rick Grimes sees her as another survivor — strong, guarded, necessary. When Rick offers shelter, it isn’t love. It’s survival. But grief has its own gravity. Some hearts learn to beat again, even in the ruins. And some endings aren’t endings at all.
i love writing my stupid lil fic about showing up at the prison, pregnant with your dead lover’s baby, and rick grimes takes you in wanting to help you get back on your feet, not realizing he’s falling for you a little more each and every day……not just you, but the life you're creating as well....
click here if you want to read more…i’m updating it later today <3
