Summary: Baking with your boyfriends, Daryl and Rick. What could go wrong?
Warnings/Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, 100% a crackfic, rickyl x reader, polyamorous dynamics, dom/sub dynamics if you squint, female reader(she/her), season six, no use of y/n
Word count: 790 words
A/N: This was originally written as a Stucky x reader fic and is posted on my other account (@bees-library3). I decided to rework it for two of our favorite post-apocalyptic men. I don't see enough Rickyl fics on here, and I definitely don't see many Rickyl x reader fluff pieces. Some of the dialogue was inspired by a post on this account @creativepromptsforwriting. Enjoy watching these boyfriends be dumb and terrorize the reader.
This is for Bee's Winter Wonderland - day 09: Baking.
Masterlist | D.D. fluff masterlist
Standing inside the kitchen, you were double-checking the recipe while your two boyfriends argued about who was beating the eggs correctly. Spoiler: Rick was right, and Daryl had been whisking like a madman. You looked up and saw the mess that was already taking over the kitchen. The two of them did look very determined, and it brought a smile to your face. They were acting like making Christmas cookies was the equivalent of fighting off a herd of walkers. You had to interrupt before things got too out of hand, though.
“Daryl, honey, that is not how you beat an egg. Be gentle.”
“Fine. Grimes can do it.”
Rolling his eyes, Daryl pushed the bowl over to Rick and crossed his arms. He was doing his best to act grumpy, but the slight smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth said otherwise. Rick, on the other hand, had been itching to take over. He used a fork and slowly beat the eggs.
“See, Dixon? That's how you do it.”
“It's not my fault that I'm ain't a damn house-husband like you.”
Daryl always had creative insults to throw around, and it never failed to make you laugh. Covering your mouth, you turned and giggled. Of course, the slight shake of your shoulders gave you away. Your laughter only encouraged the two men, and they continued ragging on each other.
Finished with the eggs, Rick started grabbing the ingredients needed for the frosting and mumbled something akin to “should've left you back in Atlanta”. That comment earned a dramatic gasp from Daryl, and he feigned shock.
“Bullshit. Y'all couldn't live without me, and you know it.”
Even though you knew Daryl was only kidding, you pressed a kiss to his jaw and reassured him. His messy dark hair was pulled back from his face, and it brought a smile to your face.
“Neither of us could, Daryl.”
“Damn straight.”
Despite his confident tone, Daryl was blushing like a schoolboy, and he suddenly couldn't meet your gaze. He shifted on his feet and busied his hands with mixing the dry ingredients. Unfortunately, he hadn't mastered the art of being careful in the kitchen, and he was adding to the mess. You didn't point it out, though.
Seeing the look on his other partner's face, Rick strode over and kissed the top of Daryl's head. This only made his face flame hotter, and he whined pitifully.
“You guys ain't bein' fair.”
Smiling a little, you began picking up some of the mess and nudged Rick with your hip. You turned towards him and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, before gently chiding him.
“Let the man focus, baby.”
“He's just bein' overly sensitive.”
“I am not!”
Their bickering made you roll your eyes for the umpteenth time, and you shook your head. It was like herding cats with these two. You decided to let them hash it out while you finished mixing the batter and pouring it into a loaf pan. While you were distracted and Rick was on some monologue about working together in the kitchen, Daryl decided to help out again.
“If we do it at a higher temperature, it's goin' to be done a lot faster, right?”
“Daryl, do not touch the oven.”
Your tone was soft, but firm. The last thing anyone needed was for the house to be set on fire. Daryl groaned softly and perched himself on the countertop. There wasn't much more left to do, and he was getting impatient. Rick picked up on this and ruffled his hair slightly.
“Don't pout. The kitchen is almost clean, and then we can turn on a Christmas movie or somethin'.”
“I ain't poutin'. Just a little bored. Does it have to be a Christmas movie?”
Realizing his boyfriend had gotten flour in his hair, Daryl grumbled and shook his head like a dog. His poor attempt at getting it out yielded no result. His brow furrowed, and he turned towards you for back up.
“Baby, look what he did to my hair.”
“Rick, we just washed it.”
Rick's response was to streak flour on your shirt, which earned him a glare. Something about being in a kitchen turned these grown men into toddlers. You let out yet another groan and pulled Rick closer. He could tell by the look on your face that you weren't playing around anymore.
“Wipe up the counter and help Daryl load the dishwasher. You two are out of control today.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Being eager listeners, the two men quickly nodded and got to work. It took a little while before the kitchen was clean and the bread was out of the oven. Now, you could deal with their bratty behavior.
do you think you could do a rick grimes fluff where it’s an established relationship where he’s got a short fuse for everyone else but her and he’s super soft and gentle to her
or rick with a sleepy reader who he just lets fall asleep on his lap as he strokes her hair when he’s in the middle of discussing something important with someone else
ok I'm currently painting my toenails baby pink and got me thinking about rickyl with hyperfeminine!reader. (I know u said rick but this is what my brain said so...enjoy?)
It’s way too late but you can’t really help that you’re a night owl. And besides, the boys are still up, lights on in the living room, the two of them talking strategy for some hoard the group has been tracking for a few weeks. The conversation seems really important so you don’t want to interrupt but you also can’t see all that well since your glasses broke on that run last week and you’ve yet to find any new ones… so you were really hoping someone would help you out.
With your bottle of nail polish in hand, you stand in the doorway, fighting an internal battle of if you should go in or not. So in doubt, you hover, putting a few dishes away in the kitchen. Grabbing some water. Checking the fridge. All while the glass bottle of pink polish becomes warm in your hand. Bare feet padding against the cool hardwood as you finally decide to just go back to bed. The safety of the community is undoubtably more important than your damn toes.
“You alright, angel?” Ricks voice is soft as it travels to your spot on the stairs, swiveling around to see both men eyeing you down. Gaze travveling up your bare legs to your tiny little boy shorts and the oversized sweater with a stretched out collar and way too many holes in it.
“Mhm.” You quip, flashing a candy sweet smile.
“You’re pacin’. What’s up?” Daryl isn’t convinced as he looks you in the eyes, elbows leaned onto his knees. Still in his work clothes. Jacket, vest and jeans. Even his boots are still laced up.
“I just-" you look down at your bare toes. All prepped for paint, cut and filed and screaming at you to give them some colour. “Can one of you help me paint my toes?”
The way both of their faces soften at your answer gives you butterflies. They’re always way too worried. Too on edge. Especially when it comes to you. Wanting to protect you. Keep you safe and healthy and happy. So that’s why when they notice you pacing in the kitchen at half past midnight, they jump to their own little conclusions about what might be wrong. About what could possibly be going on in that beautiful mind of yours.
“C’mhere.” Rick pats a hand on the couch cushion next to him which you happily take. Practically skipping over and plopping down, ass on the cushion and feet in his lap.
He takes the bottle and gives it a little shake before continuing his conversation with Daryl, who doesn’t seem to be listening as attentively as he was before. With you laying on the couch, long legs sprawled out and a sleepy smile on your pretty face, you’ve become quite the distraction.
Ricks hands are warm as he holds your feet, carefully painting each nail, all while he stays talking. You hear snippets like, “- well if we do that, then they’ll just be headed for Oceanside. We need to find a route that makes sense for everyone, even if it means-” but you aren’t really listening. You’re more focused on making heart eyes with Daryl and playing with a loose string on the hem of your sweater. Eyes growing heavy with each coat of paint. The intoxicating, chemical smell that you've weirdly enough grown to love, fills the room and your feet tickle when rick blows cool air on them. Closing the bottle and popping it back into your hand while he leans back and asks Daryl something off topic about a run with Aaron. thumb running over your foot, hand traveling up your calf and gently massaging the muscle there. You sink even further into the couch, all warm and tired and cozier then ever. The combination of Ricks touch sending tingles up your spine, and the drawl of both their voices, act in accordance to lull you right to sleep.
You know that even if you do fall asleep here on the couch, it's no big deal. They'd carry you to bed in a heartbeat. They have before. So you let your eyes flutter shut under the comforting fact that you’re sure to wake up in clean, warm covers with a man on either side of you and two big arms wrapped around your waist.
Every day, his husband comes home from work, gives him a quick kiss and promptly disappears into their basement. He stays down there all the way until dinner is ready, comes up to eat and help Rick clean up before disappearing once again.
It’s beginning to drive Rick a little bit insane.
The first couple of times it happened, he decided to just ignore it, figuring whatever Daryl was up to would be revealed soon and then he would have his spouse back.
But soon Daryl was spending almost all of his free time down there and Rick couldn’t help feeling a little neglected. What was so important that his own husband didn’t want to spend time with him?
So, Rick decided to find out.
One day, while Daryl was off at work, Rick went to investigate. He found the key to the basement tucked away in an old pack of cigarettes Daryl had hidden away in his dresser drawer. Taking a deep breath to gather himself, Rick made his way downstairs to the door.
To be honest, he was a little bit nervous. What if there was something awful down there? What if it was a dead body? Though, realistically he was pretty sure he would’ve noticed that by now.
Still, Rick felt his stomach twist as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. He peered into the darkness, but all he could see was the set of stairs descending into nothing.
Sighing, he felt along the wall until he found the light switch and turned it on. WIth everything now illuminated, he began down the stairs, closing the door behind him.
At first he heard and saw nothing out of the ordinary. The basement walls were bare but the floor was carpeted, and in the corner was the washer and dryer. Other than that, there wasn’t much down there to find.
Just as he was about to turn back, Rick heard a whimper. He immediately spun around in search of the sound.
“Hello?”
There was no answer, just more whimpering. He moved to follow the noise, which got louder as he neared the little space that was between the dryer and the wall.
When he finally caught sight of what was causing all the noise, his jaw nearly dropped.
“Puppies?”
He couldn’t believe his eyes. There lay a dog, a dappled gray sort of color with solid spots of black, but that wasn’t what had surprised him. She was nursing eight small, but lively little puppies.
That explained all the whimpering and squealing. So this is what Daryl had been up to all this time. No wonder, the pups looked no more than a few weeks old. Rick vaguely wondered if the mother had given birth here.
“So I guess the cat’s outta the bag. More like the dog’s out though, huh?”
Rick jumped, having not heard Daryl come down the stairs. He turned to face his husband.
“Where did all these puppies come from?”
Daryl shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous about something.
“A lady at work had her. She got in an accident, couldn’t take care of her while she’s recovering. Nobody else would do it. So I’m just sorta looking after her and the little ones until she gets better. I was worried about the littlest one not getting enough food so I’ve been bottle feeding it, that’s why I’ve been down here so much. Sorry.” He muttered sheepishly.
“Sorry? Why are you sorry? You were just trying to help.” Rick smiled softly, coming to wrap an arm around his husband and kiss his cheek. “And I’m honestly not surprised, you are a sweetheart.”
Daryl blushed at this, the tips of his ears turning red. He gave Rick a playful shove. “Shut up.”
“I just wish you would’ve told me, they are definitely cute little things.”Daryl bit his lip. “Does that mean I can ask about keeping one? Ya know, when they’re a little more grown?”
Rick pressed a warm kiss to his lips. “Sure, sweetness, whatever you want.”
Hello lovelies!! There's so much angst this week omg. Hopefully, the fluff and smut balanced it out. I cannot wait to read y'all comments once my interaction break is over. As always, thank you for all the support <33
Reference Key: ☃️ = fluff, ⛸ = smut, ❄️ = angst
The fics & headcanons
Snowy Morning → It's the first snowy morning in Alexandria, and you're much more excited than Daryl. ☃️
Christmas Cookies → Baking with your boyfriends, Daryl and Rick. What could go wrong? ☃️
Home Starts Here → After moving into the Commonwealth, you and Daryl have to break in the apartment: starting with the living room. ⛸
Flu Season → The grumpy archer gets taken down by the stomach flu. ☃️
What Remains → Your daughter's birth, which was meant to be a beautiful moment, takes you from Daryl. ❄️
His Girls → Your daughter's birth, which was meant to be a beautiful moment, almost takes you from Daryl. ❄️
Snowed In → Months after your breakup, the two of you are snowed in at an abandoned cabin. ❄️
Reader who’s a cat lover and wants to bring a cat home with them to Alexandria and Rickyl, Daryl doesn’t want the cat but Ricks like “let’s let her have the cat what harm would it do”
Lol anyways they definitely let her have the cat
Daryl definitely warms up to the cat too.
(this is too fucking cute)
You swallow hard as Rick reaches for the front door, simultaneously nudging you forward.
“C-can you tell him?” You ask softly. Rick can only shake his head and chuckle as the two of you walk into the house.
“Nuhuh, baby. You’re the one that wanted ‘em, so you gotta be the one to tell him.”
Rick gives Daryl a hug upon seeing him. You would, but your hands are a little full.
“What’s that?” He asks. Brows furrowed into a confused scowl.
“You gotta promise not to get mad. And- promise we’re not gonna like… eat them or anything.” His perplexed look deepens and you become even more nervous. Nervous that he’ll tell you to go put them back where you found them.
“Baby, what’s in the box?” He repeats his question. Definitely more concerned about the contents now.
“The mama didn’t make it,” you explain, setting the shoe box down on the counter. Hushed little “meow”s coming from the cracked open lid.
“No.”
“You haven’t even seen them, Dare,” you whine. Already rejecting the prospect of such adorable kittens.
“Not happening.”
“Told you he’d be like this,” Rick chimes in, leaned against the counter. Cheeky little grin splayed on his face.
“Like what?” Daryl seems defensive. Momentarily distracted by Rick while you open the shoebox and grab the cutest one. All black fluff with big yellow eyes. By far the cutest of the 5.
“All grouchy ‘n shit. You’re never any fun anymore.” You complain, holding the kitten out in front of you.
Daryl’s scowl only deepens.
“C’mon, Dare. How can you say no to this lil face?” You pout your lips and hold the kitty beside your face. Trying your best to guilt him into letting them stay.
“…”
“Please,” you try one last time, giving him the biggest puppy dog eyes you can possibly manage.
“One. You can keep one. The rest need to go.” Fuck yeah!
You breath out a sigh of relief. Handing him the kitten, which he definitely didn’t want to hold. But as soon as it cuddled up where he held it against his chest, it started purring. Begging to be loved. And that must have tugged a heart string.
“I’ll ask around if anyone wants the rest.” You tell him over your shoulder, already making your way out of the door with the shoebox. 4 little kittens cuddled up and ready for some new homes.
And when you get back, empty handed and feeling satisfied, Daryl is asleep on the couch, with soft snores leaving his lips. The kitten cuddled up on his chest and purring away. The two of them looking like a damn match made in heaven.
Rick has an ankle crossed over his knee, lounging back to read a book in his armchair. You walk over and plop yourself into his lap, squirming around until the two of you are comfy. His hand snaking around your waist, as his eyes move along the lines of the page.
You lean into his ear and kiss his neck gently, earning a sweet little sigh from the man. You whisper softly, trying not to wake up the other man,
could you write something for rick & daryl comforting reader after she goes through a breakup? super soft stuff please. gimme all the holding her in their laps, playing with her hair, and forehead kisses that you got 🥹😭 thank you in advance i need this rn 🖤
so I guess everyone’s just going through it rn😭💔
It feels like someone ripped your heart out of your chest, threw it on the ground and smashed it with a hammer. That’s what you wish you could tell them as they get home to the sight of you curled up on the couch, eyes red and lips all puffy from crying for what felt like hours on end. But you can’t. Hell, you can’t even speak.
The boys share a look as they peel off their jackets, listening to the sniffles you’re failing to hide in the pillow. Hoping you’ll just dissolve into the cushion and become one with the living room. At least then you’d be inanimate. You wouldn’t have a heart to break.
“You- uh- you wanna talk about it, kid?” Rick asks, approaching the couch and sitting down next to you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. Cheeks damp and lips wobbly as you shake your head no.
Rick nods, giving you a sympathetic smile and nudging you to move over so he can really lay back into the couch. And once he’s comfortable, he tugs on your hoodie gently so you lay your head back down in his lap. “C’mhere, sweetie.” His hands immediately start running through your hair, softly scratching at your scalp. Soothing the borderline nausea that’s been brewing all day in your stomach. And his caring affection makes you wanna just fall asleep then and there.
“We got you, baby. Right here for you, okay?” You hear Rick whisper as another hot tear rolls down your cheek and onto his jeans. Daryl comes over and lifts your feet, setting them on to his lap as well, adjusting your blanket so you’re all warm and cozy. Both of them doing everything they can think of to comfort your broken heart. Rubbing your back as Rick stays whispering sweet nothings into your ears, all gentle and comforting. But all Daryl can focus on is your shaky little breaths in between tears, and how fucking hurt you sound, crying over some dipshit that was dumb enough to let you go. He has to physically hold himself back from grabbing his crossbow and hunting the guy down.
Finally, your breathing becomes rhythmic and your eyes flutter closed. In your sleepy daze, you’ve somehow shifted even closer to Rick, arms slung around his waist and face smushed into his chest, Daryl carefully stands up, trying his best not to wake you. He grabs his jacket from the armchair and slings it on while a perplexed look forms on Ricks face.
“Where are you goin’?” Rick whispers. Daryl already has his boots on and is zipping up his jacket. He lets out a frustrated sigh, watching Ricks hand rub up and down on your back as you sleep on his chest. The whole night he’s been thinking, how the hell could anyone break such a sweet girls heart?
“I uh- just wanna talk to him.”
“Daryl,” Rick’s voice is a warning.
“Just wanna ask him a couple questions.”
Rick can only roll his eyes. Knowing exactly what “a couple questions” will look like later on in the infirmary.
Hii! I hope you're doing well today 😙! I was wondering what you think Rick or Daryls reaction to the reader having anxiety would be? I've been having a rough time with anxiety lately, and I like to think about how they would comfort me lol, either separately or together 😊 .
P.S. you are such a talented writer it's crazy!!
Hi sweetheart, thank you so much<3 your compliment really mean sthe world to me. I know i used more of a headcanon format to answer to your question, but please enjoy nontheless. (And if you have a more specific situation in mind I’d really love to write a daydream/dialogue for it💗)
- I feel like Rick would be really technical about his approach to your anxiety. If you’re having a bad day, or bad moment like a panic attack or something, I think he’d be the kind of guy to try and gain your focus, control your breathing, and make you list off things you see and smell and touch and hear. He was a police officer after all. He’s a man who understands psychology to a degree that an average person might not. And on top of that, he’s so incredibly observent. He would be able to tell if somethings off within seconds of seeing you. He can just tell.
- Daryl on the other hand, I think would have a little bit different approach. I think at first he’d be a little cautious. Wary of your feelings and not wanting to make them any worse. He would try to comfort you without acknowledging that you’re maybe not doing so well because he thinks it might make you feel even worse. So I feel like he’d be more apt to comfort you with a hand on your knee or a hug. He’d ask questions like, « what can I do? » instead of « what’s wrong? » because he wants to help you more than anything. And with experience, he would quickly realize what comforts you the most effectively and he would just do it without asking.
- And when you’re having a hard time when you’re with both of the boys, it’s the perfect combination of the two. You have Rick’s tips and tricks that actually do help get you’re breathing focused and your mind racing a little less. And Daryl would be rubbing your back as you sit on the bed with frustrated tears weighing down your lash line. At seeing the way you sigh and lean into Daryl’s touch, Rick would make sure to join and they’d both just sit there and hold you and kiss your temples, whispering reassuring murmurs into your skin, telling you how everything’s okay. You’re okay and they’re right there. Right there for you, for however long you need.
This was a little thingy that was poking at my mind till I wrote it. Just a little fluffy thing. Hope you enjoy tho. Love Never Dies Blue eyes flitted to gaze at a rugged hand where a black and blue butterfly folded and unfolded it's wings. The man drew in a deep breath, the smell of cedar and earth filling his senses, he held it all in as he watched the fragile, beautiful creature rest on his hand. His eyes grew soft with emotions, his heart pounding harder as his gaze slid down to his shoulder where his love, his fearless leader, Rick Grimes slept. His head was resting on Daryl's shoulder in a rare show of vulnerability and trust in his romantic partner as he let down his guard in front of the group, snuggling up to Daryl all night, under the trees. Daryl softly smiled, leaning ever so slightly over to place a gentle kiss in Rick's curly hair. Daryl's eyes flitted back, to stare once more at the butterfly, it's colorful wings fluttering and he thought to himself, 'You're beautiful but you will only last for a little while.' The butterfly flew away, almost like it was offended at his silent thoughts. Daryl smirked as he watched it fly away. His blue eyes sparkled as he turned to stare at Rick. He whispered, "You're beautiful and I swear, that you will last. As long as I live, I'll protect you." He woke his true love with a kiss under the watchful gaze of the cedar trees and one fluttering butterfly.
