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twdbegins · 4 months

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Floral Sheets

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Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader Tags: Fluff. Word Count: 2.1k "Not ready for tomorrow yet."

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The sun had set over Alexandria long ago.

The hues of orange and purple had faded with the falling sun and transformed the sky into a canvas of inky black, speckled with twinkling stars -- a perfect end to an otherwise arduous day.

Alexandria was thriving, and everyone in it was better than they had been in years...possibly since the apocalypse had begun.

Once a quiet suburban neighborhood, it had become a safe haven for Rick and his fellow survivors in a world full of the living dead. Alexandria was more than another camp...it was a symbol of human resilience and a testament to their will to survive.

There was a consistent supply of food, shelter, water, and (most importantly) safety. It was the safest and the healthiest that Rick and his group had been in a long time.

Alexandria had blossomed into a perfect sanctuary, and everyone was grateful for it. But such a thriving community required intense and constant work to keep it to that standard. Keeping track of weapons, supplies, and all the basic resources was vitally important. When certain supplies were to the point of restocking, Daryl was almost always the errand boy.

He could handle himself better than anyone in Alexandria. He worked well alone, and he could get himself out of a dangerous situation if he found himself in a pinch.

Daryl knew that he had a long day ahead of him from the moment his feet hit the floor early that morning. He had several stops to make on his journey outside of the walls of Alexandria, and a few of those stops were quite out of the way.

Not to mention, the blazing heat of summer was nearly blistering during the day, and even during the night hours, it wasn't much cooler. It was so humid that sometimes it made the air so thick that it felt like breathing soup.

Daryl was used to the heat, and while it didn't bother him all that much -- it still made a long, tiring day even longer and more exhausting.

And the moment that he stepped through the door late that night, he felt a sense of relief crash over him. It was significantly cooler inside your house, and he was so glad to be out of the heat and at home.

He had three things on his mind when he entered your home: food, a shower, and you.

If he could have it his way, he would've liked those things in reverse order -- but he couldn't bring himself to wake you just for a shower you didn't need, and he doubted you wanted to be disturbed just to sit with him while he horked down whatever he could scrounge up for dinner. And he knew you definitely wouldn't want him crawling into bed without eating or showering.

His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, his steps heavy and not as quiet as he wanted them to be. He knew that you would be long asleep by now, and he wanted to do his best to keep you sleeping peacefully.

He made a beeline for the kitchen, his stomach grumbling and growling with the simple request to be fed. He smacked himself for not snatching a can of something for himself when he was unloading the goodies he had picked up that day, but when he opened the refrigerator -- he realized that he didn't need it.

Right there, sitting perfectly wrapped on the center of the top shelf, was a plate of that night's leftovers that he knew you had saved just for him.

He didn't even need to see what the leftovers were to know that he was about to scarf down every last morsel on that plate. He didn't even bother heating it up because eating it cold didn't make a difference to him in the slightest.

He rinsed his plate (a habit that he only came to have after living with you full time) and left it in the sink to be washed in the morning before moving on to his next step.

He opted to use the shower on the opposite side of the house, knowing that using the one connected to the bedroom would surely end up with you waking up to the sound of him clambering around.

He was caked in dirt, sweat, and who knows what else. He felt five pounds heavier just with whatever was sitting on his skin and clothes. Daryl didn't mind getting dirty and staying dirty, but tonight it was actually bothering him a bit.

Needless to say, a shower was needed.

It was well appreciated nonetheless, and the stream of water felt incredible on his tired muscles that were in need of rest. He took his time though, maneuvering around the tiny guest bathroom shower and scrubbing his body until his natural skin tone wasn't obstructed by muck and grime.

He lathered soap on his face, ears, and neck thoroughly, watching the evidence of the long day wash along the shower floor and down the drain to never be seen again. He rubbed his eyes, feeling his eyelids grow heavier by the minute.

The fatigue was setting in fast. Between his fed belly and the relaxation of home, several hours of sleep were calling his name...and no matter what anybody said, Daryl had made the decision to sleep in the next morning.

After all, he knew you were awaiting him just across the small house, and he would never pass up an opportunity to wake up with you.

Once he felt fresh and clean, he turned off the water and stepped out. He dried himself, wrapping the towel around his waist to make the short journey to the bedroom. He gathered his dirty (an understatement) clothes so they could be washed later, knowing to toss them in the hamper (also a habit he developed post-living with you) by the closet.

His feet made it to the closed bedroom door, and he was slow to open it. As he knew you would be, you were curled up in bed

He stopped in the doorway for just a moment to observe you. Your eyes closed softly and your breathing steady brought a flutter to his heart. It let him know you were comfortable and safe...you felt safe.

You were the balm to his weary soul, your presence a comfort he had come to rely on. He didn't watch you for long, knowing that he would much rather be with you up close than from afar.

He approached his side of the bed, carefully adjusting his pillow and peeling back the covers...to reveal quite the surprise.

Ordinarily, Daryl wasn't sure if he would've even noticed. However, this was such a difference that he wasn't sure if he couldn't have not noticed.

New sheets. He thought to himself, the corners of his lips turning up slightly.

In terms of quality, this bedding was a major upgrade. Your last set of sheets were very plain and, despite the fact that they kept you warm, were just plain overused.

But in terms of looks? Daryl wasn't so sure that this new bedding was an improvement.

You had mentioned to him a time or two that you wanted to change up your bedroom. Alexandria was proving to be your permanent home for the foreseeable future, so making your house the way you wanted seemed logical. Over time, Daryl had managed to find random furniture pieces out in the world outside the walls. Lamps, chairs, and whatnot.

Sheets, on the other hand, were much harder to come across. Frankly, Daryl hadn't ever found a set of sheets that were suitable for sleeping on...no matter how many times you washed them.

Daryl studied the sheets. They were light pink, decorated with a simple printed pattern of roses. It wasn't the tacky grandma type of floral/rose design -- this pattern was much more simplistic...dainty even.

Daryl didn't exactly love the sheets. But a bed was a bed, and as long as you were in it, he didn't rightly care.

Least the comforter is the same. He thought to himself.

He climbed into bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He tried to keep his movements slow and gentle, but Daryl wasn't exactly known for being graceful.

He winced when you began to stir with a whimper, a brief look of panic in your eyes when they opened.

“Hey, hey…” He rested his hands on your shoulders. “It’s just me.”

You stared at him through squinted eyes for only a moment before sighing out a breath of relief and falling back into your pillow. You wasted no time moving closer to him, snuggling up to him with a content, soft smile.

"Hi." You whispered.

"Hey, pretty girl. Sorry I'm so late gettin' in."

You shook your head, not even giving it a second thought.

"It's okay. How was today?" You asked groggily.

He wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead. He felt the stress and pressure of the day melt away in the feeling of you.

"Can't complain. Got what we needed," He said. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's okay," You shrugged. "I'm happy you're here."

Your face was nuzzled into his neck, the smell of bar soap from his recent shower filling your senses. Daryl danced his fingertips along your back, noting that you were much warmer than he was from being in the bed for longer.

Speaking of, he knew it wouldn't be long before you wanted to discuss your new addition to the room.

“I got new sheets.” You mumbled, but even in your state of half sleep, he could tell you were excited about it.

“Mmhm.” He hummed. "I noticed."

The sound of his indifference caused you to pull your head back to look at him.

“You don’t like them?” You asked.

“A bit girly for me. Glad you like ‘em though,” He said. "Where'd you get 'em?"

"Michonne actually. She and Rick were out today and found a place stocked with that sort of stuff," You explained. "It must've been a Bed Bath and Beyond or something."

"A what?" He snorted.

"Bed Bath and Beyond. It was a furniture/home decor retail store back in the day," You explained. "That was a joke, but it had to have been some kind of home decor store. I don't know how else they could've found bedding this nice and new."

Daryl gave a small chuckle, amused by your high enthusiasm for just a set of new sheets. But he understood that they were much more than just sheets to you. They comforted you, and they gave you something to be excited about.

"What do you have to do tomorrow?" You asked, and Daryl couldn't help but groan.

He didn't want to think about tomorrow yet. He had literally just finished today. He knew that, even with a late start, he would have a day just like today: busy, hot, and exhausting.

For now, he wanted to enjoy the end of today...or what was left of it at least. He wanted to hold you close, get some sleep, and be thankful for another day survived.

And hope for many more to come.

"Same ol' things," He sighed. "Not ready for tomorrow yet."

You understood what he meant and ditched the topic. He smirked when you kissed him, which was your way of changing the subject and when you had run out of things to say.

Not that Daryl minded.

He held your face in his hand, keeping you close and preventing you from straying far from him. He felt himself melt into you, the best feeling in the world after a day like this. He wished he could have this every night.

His kisses were lazy and slow, which was a bit out of the norm for him. You could tell he was fighting sleep, and you didn't blame him in the slightest for being tired.

"How about we get some sleep? I know you're exhausted." You brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, noting how heavy they looked.

Normally, he would've fought for a few more minutes...but tonight, sleep sounded all too good.

"Yeah." He agreed.

"Talk more in the morning?" You asked, and he gave a grin.

"'Course, baby." He pressed his lips to the crown of your head.

Daryl shifted further under the covers, making sure that you were snuggled in and warm. Daryl kept you close for the rest of the night, sharing kisses when he could and keeping you in his dreams.

All wrapped up in those pink, floral sheets.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x fem! reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon one-shot #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twdbegins

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twdbegins · 1 year

Text

A Fuzzy Friend

Simon x Fem! Doctor! Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1.3k

“It can’t be that different.”

He had that look on his face.

It was a mischievous look that held amused undertones. His eyebrows were slightly narrowed, and he had that shit-eating grin on his face. It wasn’t a look that he expressed often, but it was one that you knew good and well.

When he walked into the infirmary with “the look”, you know that he had done something he wasn’t supposed to do.

He had walked in around mid-afternoon. It had been a fairly slow day. The weather was nice, and the sun was shining, although it didn’t do much to offer comfort to the crisp winter air. In your experience, better weather meant less people screwing up and around and getting hurt. Your day had been uneventful, and it was your mistake to take that for granted.

Simon’s footsteps that were usually heavy and easily recognizable were suddenly light and ghostlike. As a matter of fact, you didn’t even notice his presence until he spoke.

“Hey, baby.” He had said to gently get your attention.

You turned from what you were doing at the counter, a smile on your face at the voice that you adored so much.

“Hi,” You smiled, but it was wiped off when you saw “the look” plastered on his expression. “What did you do?”

He had his jacket pulled around him snugly, as if he were protecting something underneath. He couldn’t help but laugh. He knew that you’d see straight through him.

“I brought a friend.” He stated, opening his jacket to reveal the inner pocket.

You stared at the inside of his jacket quizzically, wondering what he was on about. That was when you noticed a stir behind the fabric, along with a faint squeaky sound. You were surprised when a tiny fuzzy head popped out of the top of the pocket, and two dark, marble sized eyes met yours. From a distance, it was difficult to identify the creature currently occupying his pocket.

Upon closer inspection, you knew exactly what it was.

“A squirrel?” You gawked. “A young one at that.”

“He’s a sweetheart. I was walking along the outskirts when I heard him making noise,” Simon said. “He was freezing when I picked him up. Warmed right up when I put him in my pocket.”

“Probably saved his life. He’s so little.” You gushed.

The furry friend closed his eyes when you used the tip of your pinky to pet his head (you weren’t really sure how Simon knew it was a male, and you didn’t want to know). He was calm and seemed content for the most part, so you weren’t sure why Simon was here.

It actually wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Simon to pick up an animal and bring it for a visit. Typically, it was usually just an overly friendly critter that happened to trust him. He’d bring them in for a quick hello and then he’d take them back to where he found them. Simon was skilled when it came to animals and wildlife. He knew his plants, and he knew about the animals in the area.

“He’s adorable, but you might need to take him back. He’s probably missing his mom.” You said.

“Well….I think he broke his foot.” Simon gave a sheepish grin.

There was a pause. And then a realization.

“Simon, I’m a people doctor. Not a vet,” You huffed. “I don’t know anything about squirrels.”

“It can’t be that different.”

“It can be very different actually. I could hurt him more if I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Honey, please? You’re the best chance he’s got.” Simon begged.

Simon knew it would haunt you if you let this squirrel go without at least attempting to help him out. A baby squirrel would never make it back up the tree with no mother and a broken bone.

“You’ve lost your mind,” You peered at Simon. “I mean I really think you’ve gone nuts.”

Simon started to laugh, and it took you a moment to catch on to the unintentional pun.

“Oh, shut up,” You groaned. “Look, I’ll do what I can.”

Simon used his gentlest touch to bring the injured squirrel from the pocket of his shirt. The furry friend made a shrill of discomfort at the sudden movement, and it made it clear to you that Simon might’ve been right about the broken foot.

He just barely fit in the palm of your hand, his black button eyes staring up at you as you carried him over to the counter. His foot was about the size of the surface area of your pinky finger, so using your most careful hand was crucial. You really had no way of knowing if the foot was broken, but just by looking at it, you knew it was hurt.

It wasn’t like you could put a cast on it. Squirrels probably couldn’t take human pain medication. There wasn’t much you could do other than stabilize the foot and keep an eye on him. Discreetly, of course, because Negan would lose his mind if he knew that his only doctor was spending her time caring for an animal.

Simon watched as you worked, making the tiniest makeshift splint the world had ever seen. The squirrel didn’t fight back much, only making a squeal when you jostled him too much.

“Si, I think I saw an old dog crate in one of the supply closets downstairs yesterday. Could you go see if it’s still there?” You asked nicely.

“You’re going to keep him?” He asked.

“Well, not permanently. I can’t send him back out like this at least for a few days,” You clarified. “I think the crate had a red top on it.”

“Red top. Got it.” Simon nodded, and he left to go find it.

Not surprisingly, the poor squirrel was famished. Based on what you knew about squirrels (which admittedly wasn’t much), you were pretty positive he could have small nibbles of fruits and veggies. Lucky for him, you had an apple stowed away for an afternoon snack. You didn’t mind sacrificing it. He needed it more than you did. You syringe fed him water and used your pocket knife to cut the apple into the smallest bits possible. His front hands (Paws? Legs?) were greedy with each bit that you offered him. You could barely slice fast enough for his quick hands.

“You’re looking better already,” You spoke out loud to the critter. “You’re lucky Simon found you, huh?”

The squirrel obviously didn’t answer, but his ears fluttered as if he were listening.

“I hope he didn’t come off as too harsh. He really does care,” You grinned. “He’s got a hard exterior, but he’s all heart.”

The sound of a throat clearing caught your attention, and you turned to see Simon with the red top crate in his hand and a smirk on his face.

“Found it. I think it’ll work.” Simon said.

“Thanks. I can make it cozy for him,” You said taking the crate and handing him your knife. “Can you keep feeding him until he’s done?”

“Oh, so now I’m feeding him? You might as well name him at this point.” Simon took the knife, and began cutting small pieces off of the apple.

“No, no, no. That’s how you get attached.” You remarked, locating a small towel and putting it down on the floor of the crate.

The crate would offer a source of bedding and temporary home for him while he spent the next few days healing up. You figured he’d be ready to go back into the wild by the end of the week. When lunchtime was over for the squirrel, Simon handed him off to you to place him inside his new home. In the weirdest and unexplainable way, he looked grateful when he curled up to get some real rest. You closed the door behind him, and kept him in the corner of the room to keep a watchful eye on him while you finished out your day.

“Look at that. You could’ve been a veterinarian after all.” Simon smiled, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

“Maybe so...” You joked. “But stop bringing me animals. I only got lucky this time.”

Simon chuckled with a nod, knowing good and well this wasn’t the last time.

“Whatever you say, doc.”

#simon #simon twd #simon twd x reader #simon twd x fem! reader #simon twd x fem!reader #simon twd x female reader #simon twd x you #simon twd x y/n #simon twd oneshot #simon twd oneshots #simon twd imagine #simon twd imagines #simon twd fluff #simon twd fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twdbegins

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twdbegins · 2 years

Text

The Cold Truth

Simon x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Language. Near hypothermia.

A/N: This originally was going to be lighthearted and fluffy, idk where the angst came from.

Word Count: 3.1k

“You can’t control what happened. And you’re only making yourself guilty for something that isn’t your fault.”

The sound of your chattering teeth was unmistakable as you struggled to keep a steady grip on the steering wheel of the vehicle due to your shivering limbs.

The truck seemed to be moving in slow motion as you approached the place that you loosely referred to as home. The Sanctuary was just within eyesight, and never in your life had you been more relieved to be returning to the large structure that was once a fully functioning factory.

At this point, you didn’t even care about all the resources and goods that you and Arat had found on your scouting mission. The only thing that you could even begin to think about was getting warm.

You weren’t sure when or how winter months in the south became so brutally cold. It seemed like all of a sudden the season changed from fall to winter and it was like it was handcrafted by Jack Frost himself. Now every year was a frigid winter, and it had brought some major challenges.

The main one: staying warm when exposed to the outside elements. On top of keeping walkers at bay, you now had to prevent hypothermia and/or frostbite.

And if you thought enduring the freezing temperatures was difficult while dry, now you were experiencing it while soaking wet.

Taking an unintentional dip in an unmarked river had not been part of your plan for the day. It was quite hidden, and you hadn’t realized that it was there until you were literally in it. You had lost your footing at the top of a steep slope, which had been an unpleasant and uncontrollable ride down. While the body of water broke your fall, it presented an entirely new problem.

The water was colder than anything you had ever felt hit your skin. It was nearly painful when it made contact, as if you had been pierced with billions of needles simultaneously. The initial sting of the water had forced air into your lungs, which caused you to thrash around and scramble to your feet.

The water hadn’t seemed to miss an inch of you because you were drenched from head to toe with icy water. It was quite the task to wring as much water out of your outer clothes as possible because the shakes and shivers came on very quickly. Little clouds of mist surrounded you as the chilled water leaked from everywhere off of your frame.

Arat had been lucky that she avoided the same fate, but she was fast to join you at the bottom of the hill to assist you in getting up. The trek back to the truck had been a long one it seemed like. The squishing in your boots was a constant the whole way back, which was just another reminder of how cold you were.

The ride home had been miserable to say the least. Of course you had been graced with the one vehicle that didn’t have a proper heating/AC system, so there was no chance of any temporary relief. It didn’t help that the sun was beginning to set, so the outside temperature would only be dropping.

Arat had helped you load all of the newly found goodies into the back as rapidly as possible, while also helping you strip as much outer clothing as you could afford to. Simon had snuck one of his flannels into your spare backpack that you kept in the truck in case of emergencies, and this had definitely been classified as an emergency.

His flannel returned some heat back into your body, but it wasn’t nearly enough. While you were driving, Arat rummaged through the entire truck looking for any kind of clothing that a previous savior had left behind. Your shivering grew worse by the minute, and you had begun to seriously worry that hypothermia was going to get the best of you. Coming up on The Sanctuary had been a blessing to see, and it was a sight that you’d never take for granted again.

Once you were in range, Arat had used her walkie-talkie to relay to Negan to round up anybody who was available to lend a hand with getting everything unloaded so you could go straight inside to get properly warmed up.

By the time you had entered The Sanctuary and parked the truck in the courtyard, you were hardly able to control any of the muscles in your arms or legs. The sun had gone down completely, and the lack of sunlight had not helped your case. Your skin had gone clammy and frozen long ago, to the point where there was hardly much feeling there at all.

The tailgate of the truck was lowered as soon as you arrived, and several of the men began hauling the items from the back. They all clamored with excitement over the new resources to use and some restocked valuables that The Sanctuary had desperately needed. Negan had been watching from afar, and he himself seemed pleased. However, you nor Arat could bask in the glory.

It was far more work than it should’ve been to open the driver’s side door, and Arat was at your side as soon as your feet hit the pavement. Simon had been standing next to Negan off in the distance, a proud smirk plastered on his face at your fruitful return. His smile didn’t last long because he immediately noticed something was wrong when he watched you exit the truck.

“We need to get you to see the doctor. You’re cold all over.” Arat’s hands felt heavy on your arms as she held you steady, but you couldn’t feel any heat coming off of them.

“I’m f-fine.” You stuttered, the intense shivering causing a slur and stutter to your words.

Water was only dripping from your hair now, but the remainder of your clothes were damp with moisture. Every step felt weighted, and you were beginning to think that you wouldn’t be able to make it inside without having to be helped.

“You’re shaking,” Arat stated, horrified by the violent trembling of your body. “We need to get you inside.”

Before you could agree nor protest, there was a tall figure stabilizing your other side, with just as much concern as your dear friend.

“What happened to you?” Simon questioned, his eyes going wide when he felt the state of your current predicament. “Shit. You’re freezing.”

The answer to his question came to mind, but computing it into words didn’t happen. There was too much going on in your mind right now for a simple sentence to be formed.

“She fell into a river. She got completely wet.” Arat explained, using her free hand to rub some friction over your arm that was closest to her.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Simon asked you, and he could tell just by looking in your face that you were struggling to even comprehend what he was saying.

“N-no,” You shook your head. “Inside. P-please.”

Simon nodded in agreement, wrapping his arm around your waist to get you into motion. He was not going to let you freeze to death. That would be a bad way to go.

“I’ve got her. Thanks, Arat.” Simon said to her with genuine gratitude.

Arat felt better knowing that you were in Simon’s hands because he knew how to take care of you better than anyone. Simon ushered you through the crowd of bystanding saviors who were curious to know what sort of things you and Arat had turned up. In a pre-apocalyptic world, a gradual warm shower would’ve been ideal and heavenly. In the post world, you weren’t sure exactly how this was going to work. It wasn’t like The Sanctuary had real showers. The water system was touchy as it was, so getting a legit shower was part of a lottery system. You hoped that luck would be on your side because a warm shower was going to be a huge advantage for you.

Once you were out of the crowd and inside of The Sanctuary, Simon’s voice rumbled in your ear.

“You alright?” He lovingly ran his thumb across your hip. “Baby, you’re so cold.”

“I know. I-I just need to g-get warm.” You sputtered, sticking as close to him as you could.

“How did this happen?” Simon questioned, rounding a corner to get to the main staircase. “It’s not like you to slip up like that.”

“Just lost m-my footing,” You answered. “That water was cold.”

“Clearly,” He snorted. “We’ll get you fixed up. Just hang in there.”

Simon was planning on rolling the dice with a decent shower as well. He escorted you to his room, which was more defined than yours and included a bathroom. His room was warmer than the rest of the building, which would play in your favor. You began undressing the rest of your clothes as soon as you entered the bathroom, slipping off Simon’s borrowed flannel first.

“S-sorry about your shirt.” You apologized, referring to its damp state.

He took the shirt from you and tossed it on the floor.

“It’ll dry.” He stated with a grin.

Your fingers fumbled and struggled to get the buttons undone of your shirt underneath. Your shivers hadn’t ceased, and it was getting the best of your motor functions. Simon noticed your fruitless attempt, and stepped in to help.

“I got you. We need to get you warmed up.” He effortlessly unbuttoned the column of buttons, pushing the shirt off of your shoulders to let it fall to the floor.

The water was running smoothly (which you were grateful for) and the steam coming from it was an indicator that it was indeed going to be a warm one. Simon stepped out of the bathroom to give you privacy, but kept a listening ear out in case you needed him.

The shower wasn’t pleasant at first. Warm water on cold skin wasn’t comfortable. It was both painful, yet relieving at the same time. You made noises of strain and discomfort as you fought through the initial shock because you knew this was the only way you’d be able to get your core temperature back to normal. The goosebumps on your body were so stiff that the hairs on your arms were immovable as you ran your hands over them. Despite the first couple minutes of struggle, the burn in your fingers and toes faded and the rest of your body began to relax. Your shivering slowly came to more of a dull shake, and your mind fog began to clear.

In the adjacent bedroom, Simon picked a pair of his sweats and a long-sleeved cotton t-shirt for you to wear. He planned on bundling you up as much as he could. He knew that you wouldn’t be happy with abandoning your usual sleep attire, but he was more focused on keeping you alive. Just as he plucked a pair of socks from his top drawer, the bathroom door opened to reveal you were dried off and wrapped in a towel with a tremendous improvement to your complexion. He noted that your legs were still wobbly, which put him into motion.

“Come here, lovebug. Put this on.” He extended the clothes in his hands to you once you were standing in front of him.

“Is this really necessary?” You griped, just as he had expected.

“Yes. Please?” He pressed politely. “It would make me feel a lot better knowing that you’re not going to freeze in your sleep.”

The look on his face was hard to say no to, but he didn’t even wait for an answer before he began dressing you himself. It was obvious that he was panic stricken because he hardly even paid any attention to the fact that your naked body was at his disposal….and he always took advantage of that situation.

“I’m not going to die,” You giggled, but he hardly seemed to find any humor in it. “I’m fine, honey.”

He didn’t respond until you were fully dressed and clothed as much as possible without completely overdoing it. His hands carefully rested on your triceps as he pulled you closer to press another kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” He mumbled. “How about we get some sleep?”

Slipping into Simon’s bed was the best thing that had happened to you all day. Simon kept his bed well layered (which hadn’t always been the case because before you came into the picture, he was a singular sheet kind of guy), and it brought that final push of warmth that you needed. It was beyond heavenly, and you were grateful for it. Simon wasn’t far behind, only taking the time to set his alarm clock for the next morning as he always did. He already had the intention of snoozing it and going into Negan’s morning briefing late, but at least now he could say he made an effort to be on time.

He didn’t even wait for you to get comfortable before he had pulled you in as close as possible, and even entwined his legs with yours to keep you from going too far. You were so close, in fact, that you could hear his heartbeat in his chest – and how it was nearly about to pound out of his chest.

“You’re still shaking a little,” He stated when he noticed the last of your shivering in your muscles. “Are you warm enough?”

“Mmhm. I’m plenty warm. Thanks.” You kissed him, soft and slow.

He was usually a chatterbox before going to bed for the night. He liked to ask about your day if he didn’t happen to run into you, or tell you about his if something interesting or out of the ordinary happened. He was oddly mellow, and it was obvious that something was up.

“What’s wrong?” You cooed to him, your head falling against his chest while you stared up at him.

Your knuckles dragged across his jaw with a feather-like touch, the stubble from his unattended facial hair tickling at your fingers. His general expression remained neutral, but his eyes had anxiety reflecting off of them. He wasn’t acting like himself.

“Ah. It’s nothing,” He shifted in place, the way he always did when he was lying. “I’m alright.”

“Don’t do that. Talk to me. That’s what we do.” You asked again, a bit more assertive this time.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. He could never get anything past you. He knew better than to try to slip the truth past you, and he knew that wasn’t fair.

“I hate it when Negan sends you out on your own without me,” Simon shuddered. “It worries me sick.”

This wasn’t the first time that you and Simon had talked about this. This was a recurring conversation that always seemed to come back up one way or the other. Negan and Simon had actually had a falling out over it once or twice, which really only irritated Negan and didn’t result in any kind of a solution.

“I’m a grown woman, Si. I can look after myself,” You replied. “Besides, I had Arat with me – so it wasn’t exactly a solo mission.”

“I trust Arat as a partner more than half of the men here, but…I guess if I always had a say in it, I’d always choose myself to go instead.” He swallowed hard.

“You can’t go every time. You already have so much to do here on a daily basis,” You went on. “I have to do my fair share just like everybody else.”

“I know…I know,” He sighed. “I know you can take care of yourself. I’ve never doubted that. I just can’t help but worry about you.”

Simon hadn’t ever outright said it, but over time you had put the pieces together that he felt the need to protect you. If something were to happen to you, he’d feel guilty that he wasn’t there to prevent it. He didn’t want anything to happen to you because at this point, none of this was worth it without you.

“I feel like there’s not much I can say to ease your concerns. It’s…just a risk that we have to take.” You said.

“I know that, baby. In any situation we’d have to. I just…”He trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

“Wish that things were different?” You offered.

He went quiet again, and you knew that you had hit a nerve. You weren’t shy to admit that you had shared that same thought once or twice. Of course you missed the pre-apocalyptic world. Everybody did.

The world now was far harder to thrive in than it needed to be. There was so much bad in a place where there used to be so much good. His feelings were relatable, and you understood completely.

But at the end of the day, you couldn’t do a thing to change it.

“But would we have ever met if the world hadn’t turned?” You questioned him, and he raised a brow and settled it.

“I’ve thought about that before. It’s about the only reason that I’m glad the world went to shit,” Simon exhaled. “I wish I could’ve given you a better life.”

“I’m happy now. Isn’t that enough?” You replied back.

“Not when I know that I could’ve given you so much more.”

“You can’t control what happened. And you’re only making yourself guilty for something that isn’t your fault.”

The truth was cold. And it seemed that every time it was served to him, it got colder each time. He knew you were right, and he knew that there wasn’t a thing he could do. All he could do was love you, and do what he could now to show you that.

“I love you.” He almost blurted, but in the most honest way.

“I love you, and I really am happy with you. No matter what.” You assured him, and it seemed to offer him some consolation.

You didn’t like ending the day on such a bittersweet moment. If you could have it your way, you’d want to end every night with the two of you giggling about something funny that happened during the day or falling asleep hardly even dressed for bed because you were so tired from working all day. Every once in a while, you had a day where things just didn’t go well, and it was a cruel reminder of the position you were in.

Despite that, you both tried to stay positive. The sun still rose and set every day, and the two of you were well off for the most part. You had several advantages in your corner, and that was something you tried to focus on. You had a great person to navigate this hell of a world with, and that was something you were blessed to have.

For however long you had left.

#simon #simon twd #simon twd x reader #simon twd x female reader #simon twd x fem! reader #simon twd x you #simon twd x y/n #simon twd fluff #simon twd oneshot #simon twd oneshots #simon twd imagine #simon twd imagines #simon twd fanfic #simon twd fanfiction #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twdbegins

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twdbegins · 2 years

Text

A Little Too Rough

Simon x Fem! Reader

Tags: Post-smut.

Word Count: 0.6k

“I just-I wanted to make you happy.”

✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮

“You’re okay, baby. Shh, you’re fine.” Simon hushed, his heart breaking more with every new set of tears that leaked out of your eyes.

He cradled you in his lap as you cried. Your head was buried into the exposed skin of his chest, your tears soaking his skin as he held you close. His arms were wrapped around you, his chin resting on the crown of your head while he scolded himself for being the cause for your upset.

“I-I….” You hiccuped. “I-I’m sorry.”

“For what, honey? You have nothing to be sorry for,” He pulled one of his legs upward so you could lean against it. “It was my fault. I pushed you too hard.”

He shifted to sit up on the mattress, holding you away from his chest so that he could look at you. He wiped at your tears with his thumbs, kissing your forehead with an apologetic kiss.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I knew you were tired and I shouldn’t have worked you as hard as I did.” He went on, pushing your fallen hair from your eyes.

Simon felt terrible as he watched more tears leak from your exhausted eyes. He had been able to tell when you had walked in that you were tired and in no state of mind for any kind of sex that extended past slow and easy. He had gotten too rough with you, and it wasn’t until he heard your uncomfortable squeaks that he realized.

“I just-I wanted to make you happy.” You blubbered through your sobs.

His brows knitted together in concern as he continued to listen to you cry. He was comforting you the best that he could, and he couldn’t stop his chest from wringing with culpability.

“Always stop me if it doesn’t feel good or if you don’t like it,” He told you. “It’s not enjoyable to me if it’s not enjoyable to you.”

He kissed your quivering lips while caressing your skin that was pressed up against his. He reached around you to get the shirt that you had been previously wearing. His heart ached more with each new sniffle that sounded out of you. He hadn’t meant to cause you any discomfort or make your already fragile mental state worse. He worked on getting your shirt over your head to cover your naked frame.

“What are you doing?” You sniffed again.

“Getting you ready for bed.” He gave a small grin.

Your hands came to his shoulders once your arms were through the short sleeves, pushing at him to stop him.

“No, no. Just a few more minutes and I’ll be fine. I just need-”

“Ah, no ma’am. Bedtime,” He corrected. “We’re going to get some sleep.”

Despite your protests, Simon dressed you and himself for bed, situating both of you together into bed. He pulled you in close to his chest, kissing away the last of your tears. You had calmed down significantly in the last five minutes, and he hoped you’d be back to normal after a good night of sleep. He still felt terrible even though you had improved.

He spoke to you until you fell asleep, which didn’t take very long due to how tired you were. He stayed awake for a little while after you were asleep to be sure that you really were okay. It’d take him some time to forgive himself for this one, because he really did feel so bad. It had been an accident, but one that he never wanted to make again. He adored these moments with you, and he never wanted to ruin them or make them not valuable to you.

He loved you far too much for that, and you deserved every cherish-able moment that he could give you.

✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮⋆˙✮

Originally posted: May 21, 2022.

Remastered: March 6, 2024

#simon #simon twd #simon twd x reader #simon twd x fem! reader #simon twd x female reader #simon twd x you #simon twd x y/n #simon twd fluff #simon twd imagine #simon twd imagines #simon twd oneshot #simon twd oneshots #simon twd drabble #simon twd drabbles #simon twd fanfic #simon twd fanfiction #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twdbegins

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twdbegins · 2 years

Text

Stitched Up

Simon x Fem! Doctor! Reader

Warnings: Mention of injury.

Word Count: 2.6k

“What are you doing anyway?”

It had been a clumsy error.

As someone who was extremely diligent and careful, this had been an out of character unfortunate event. Arat had warned you that the place that you’d be scoping out was an overgrown forest area that hadn’t been inhabited in....well, ever. You had expected treacherous territory, but you hadn’t expected to get tangled up in a bushel of derelict vines and roots.

It had been one of those accidents where you knew that you were going to hit the ground before you had even made contact with it. Simon’s boots that you had borrowed and worn that day were far too big for your feet, and you had been stumbling over them all day. So when your panic response registered that you were indeed not balanced, you knew it was over.

In hindsight, it was a shock that you hadn’t fallen sooner than you did.

The injury wasn’t life threatening, nor anything major -- however, it was something that needed to be tended to as soon as possible. While Arat had been mildly amused, she had been gracious enough to assist you in getting the bleeding stopped and your leg temporarily wrapped and into a position that would hold until you could get back to the infirmary.

Arat’s arm had been wrapped around your midriff to keep you upright while you hobbled into your exam room to begin getting yourself properly patched up. Arat’s help only extended to getting you into the exam table. She didn’t always have the strongest stomach, so she wasn’t too keen on sticking around.

There had only been a few occasions where you were forced to resort to treating yourself. That was the bitch of being the absolute only medical resource in the whole Sanctuary -- when the doctor was down, there wasn’t anybody to take over.

“Ouch.” You winced under your breath as you continued to stitch sutures into your leg.

As mentioned, the wound could’ve been worse. It was deep enough where it definitely required stitches, but you were confident that it would be healed within a few weeks without much of a scar. You were working as fast as you could to get yourself stitched up and on your way to your regular agenda, but working on yourself was seeming to take double the time.

“Ow! Damn!” You cursed, a little bit louder this time as the tip of your needle pierced the next section.

This cycle had repeated for the last 30 minutes, and you were surprised when your startled cursing brought in a corridor wanderer. Simon had been just down the hall when he heard your familiar voice in a state of discomfort, and his curiosity and sudden worry brought him in on a detour.

“What are you doing?” The broad man questioned as he leaned against the open doorway.

He eyed over your stretched out frame over the exam table, and how you were contorted into an awkward position to be able to reach the side of your calf that was in peril. You hadn’t noticed his presence until you spoke, and the disturbance caused your hand to flinch as a frightened response.

“Ah, fuck!” You shrieked at the sudden sharp sensation on your skin. You allowed a few seconds to pass for your adrenaline to simmer back down. “You scared me.”

He raised a brow at your sudden reaction, which only added to his original question. He crossed his strong arms over his chest as he continued to watch you focus on getting fixed up. Over the last two years, Simon had grown much more comfortable with being around this kind of environment, but he still preferred to watch from a distance.

“I heard you from down the hall and thought you were dying in here,” He joked. “So I ask again: what are you doing?”

“Stitching myself up,” You answered. “Busted my ass in the woods.”

His growing curiosity got the best of him, and he took the steps to fully enter the room and place himself at your side. He observed the way that you expertly sewed the two separated columns of skin back together. It was muscle memory to you at this point because you had done this hundreds of times.

“Been there,” He chuckled, pressing a careful kiss to your temple to avoid jostling you. “Poor baby.”

“Oh, I think I’ll live. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” You grinned.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it,” He chuckled again. “What about my boots? Did they take any damage?”

“Unharmed,” You motioned towards the black work boots that were discarded adjacent to the exam table. “And also the culprit.”

“I told you to wear thicker socks to fill in some of that extra space.” He reminded you.

Simon had indeed advised you to stuff some extra padding into the boots in question as well as wear a richer layer of socks on your feet. You hadn’t heeded his advice, because at the time you hadn’t for-seen any issues with the overly large boots.

“Honey, it’s like a million degrees outside. There was no way I was walking around in sweaty and damp socks.” You bantered.

“Mmhm -- and now you’re sewing up your leg at almost midnight.” He pointed out, grimacing at a particular suture that you completed.

“A small price to pay,” You grinned. “What are you doing anyway?”

“I took Davey’s fence duty shift. He covered a run for me that I didn’t want to go on so I owed him a favor,” He motioned towards the general direction of the back of The Sanctuary. “I was headed to bed when I heard you wailing in distress in here.”

“It always hurts when you’re doing it yourself,” You remarked. “I’m almost finished. I can meet you in your room in a few minutes.”

He released a sneaky chuckle as he brought a hand to your upper back in a soothing manner.

“Oh, but I’m having such a fun time watching you perform medical procedures on yourself,” He joked. “Anytime you’ve stitched me up, I couldn’t make myself watch.”

Simon didn’t get hurt often. He’d get scrapes and bruises fairly often, but rarely did he ever require any real medical attention. However, there had been a couple of occasions where Simon needed a stitch or two. He found it much different when it came to witnessing other people get fixed up.

“You want to just stick around then? I think about three or four more and I’ll be good to go.” You offered instead, hissing in pain once more.

His head nodded up and down as an affirmative response. In all honesty, he didn’t care much for the watching you work part. He hadn’t seen you since you had left for the run early that morning and he was curious to know how it had gone….other than the disastrous fall. It brought Simon some comfort to see you get out of The Sanctuary even for something as small as an afternoon run with Arat. It also scared him to death, given the state of the world and all. However, It was easy for you to get caught up around the home base, just because you were in such high demand. It wasn’t always often that you were granted the opportunity to venture outside of the walls of the infirmary. Even if the world had fallen and gone to shit, there were still so many good things to see and experience. If nothing else, it gave you a chance for some real sunshine and outdoor exposure to keep you from going completely stir crazy.

“How did it go today?” He wondered.

“Not too bad. Although I don’t quite understand why Negan is ‘scoping out new land’. Seems a bit unnecessary in my opinion.” You responded with a hint of annoyance in your tone.

“He’s toying with the idea of making another Sanctuary location. New saviors would be transferred there to prevent any overflow here. More space means more people,” Simon explained. “That’s Negan’s thought process anyways.”

“Oh hell. Does that mean I get to go on a field trip every time somebody gets hurt over there?” You groaned. “I can hardly keep up with everyone here, let alone at a second location.”

Simon chuckled at your complaining. He didn’t blame you for being irritated because that wasn’t something that he’d want to do either.

“He won’t push it all on you. He plans on getting another doctor,” Simon informed you. “Not sure how long that’ll take though. You were a stroke of luck.”

“In that case, I hope that Negan postpones his expansion plan until the next stroke of luck shows up because I do not fancy being a travel doctor. I wish Negan would give up one of his wives and let me train one of them to help out. I could use another pair of hands, and I guarantee you that at least one of them has a passion for medicine.” You sighed.

“Good luck with that, darlin’. I’ll be rooting for you.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

The roll of your eyes brought a grin to his lips. That was a fruitless dream, and you both knew it. Damn Negan and his male supremacy values. When the stitching was finished and your leg was on its way to being good as new, you shifted off of the table (with Simon’s help) to officially conclude your day. For the first few days, walking was going to be a bit awkward and tedious – but not impossible. You weren’t a fan of being slowed down, considering that your days were usually fast paced and nonstop. The Sanctuary would hopefully adhere and adjust to your recovery time. The way you saw it, though, there wasn’t much of another option. The Sanctuary couldn’t function as smoothly as it was designed if there were more fallen Saviors than healthy ones, so in a way they had to conform to your needs.

The day had been long and you were beyond ready to clock out for the night. Tomorrow was another guaranteed long day, and there was no telling how this newfound injury would affect that.

“Home sweet home,” Simon announced with a cheery tone when the two of you entered his room. “Don’t lecture me about not making the bed. I was late getting out of here this morning.”

The tired groan that bellowed from your chest when he set you on the bed was a testament to how rough your day had been. Nothing sounded better than getting into bed and getting wrapped up in the cold sheets while snuggling with your favorite guy. Even on the best of days that was something you looked forward to.

Simon chuckled to himself when you didn’t respond. Your eyes were glazed over with stress as they stared at the ceiling. There wasn’t a single thought behind them, only bland static due to the fact that you couldn’t think about something even if you wanted to. The tips of Simon’s fingers dipped past the elastic band of your socks to peel them off of your feet. He was careful not to jostle your battered leg to avoid hurting you. He noted that you hadn’t brought his boots back with you, but he would get them in the morning.

His lips brought a kiss to the side of your ankle when he removed your second sock, and he continued to watch you stare off into space. He had been there and done that — he knew how it felt to be so tired that you couldn’t hardly process a thought.

“You don’t have to do that,” You mumbled when you realized that Simon was taking it upon himself to undress you to get you ready for bed. “I could honestly just fall asleep like this.”

It was a bit unconventional, considering that your lower half was hanging off of the bed.

“No ma’am. You’re getting a proper night of sleep.” He carefully shimmied your pants off of your legs.

You took it upon yourself to unbutton your work shirt and get it pushed off of your upper body. It was taking more energy than it should’ve to do such a small task. The initial adrenaline from the day had fully worn off, and you were well on your way to crashing. Simon was quick to get you changed into a t-shirt and shorts, as well as getting you underneath the covers.

The sheets were as chilled and soft as you had wanted them to be. The mattress was like a plush cloud underneath your tired muscles. Simon tucked you in up to your chin, making sure you were as comfortable as possible. He had the highest hopes that a night of sleep would do you some good and bring some relief to your damaged pride. You could’ve fallen asleep as soon as your body was settled into the bed, but you fought the urge to sleep until Simon was in bed with you.

He rummaged through his selection of casual wear to choose a t-shirt for himself to sleep in. He had expected you to drift off into slumber, but was surprised when he felt the gaze of your eyes on his back.

“You don’t have to wait on me, baby.” He remarked, slipping the white cotton shirt over his head and over his frame.

“I know. I just want to.” You mumbled, your words slightly muffled by the sheets.

He didn’t want to keep you waiting, so Simon sped up the pace in getting ready for bed. He discarded his pants off to the side to be washed at a later time, because the bed was calling his name for now. He had the same reaction upon crawling into bed himself – which consisted of a groan and a long sigh. You had both had a long day, and the knowing anticipation of tomorrow being a repeat was less than soothing. That was life after all, and the two of you had gotten used to the monotonous cycle of working at The Sanctuary.

Simon pulled you into his chest once he was settled in. He could feel the strain and tension in your muscles as he held you close, and it made his chest twinge with sympathy.

“How’s the leg?” He asked for an update.

“Eh. It’s okay,” You shrugged. “It’ll be sore tomorrow. I just need to be sure to keep it clean and watch the stitches.”

“Maybe you should take it easy tomorrow. This place can survive a day without you.” Simon suggested.

“Sure it can. With my luck though, it won’t.” You snorted.

“I just thought that it might be best to give yourself a day to bounce back. Or at least get a late start.” He went on.

“A late start might be more reasonable. Catch up on some sleep if nothing else.” You nodded.

His chest was warm against the side of your face. He was so comforting without even trying. There was nothing better than ending a stressful day like this. Just the two of you in the solace of your own personal presence. Not a day went by where you weren’t thankful for him and how helpful he was. He did it without hesitation, and you were pretty sure that he didn’t even realize how much you appreciated him.

The brief stretch of silence was just long enough for you to succumb to your exhaustion. Your heavy lids closed with ease and you were off into a state of sleep within a few short minutes. Simon recognized your relaxed breathing and released muscles as a sign that you were indeed asleep. He held down a chuckle at the fact that your conversation had gone unfinished, but he was more relieved that you were getting some sleep.

He kissed the center of your forehead as gently as possible, and sent himself to sleep without another sound.

#simon #simon twd #simon twd x reader #simon twd x female reader #simon twd x fem! reader #simon twd x you #simon twd x y/n #simon twd imagine #simon twd imagines #simon twd oneshot #simon twd oneshots #simon twd fluff #simon twd comfort #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twdbegins

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twdbegins · 3 years

Text

Having Sex on a Run with Rick

Rick Grimes x Fem! Reader

Request: Hay, I recently became active on your blog; And I love it so much already!? Your work for Rick? 😤 It’s damn fine! We need more for him,,I was wondering if I could get something for Rick where Reader and him are on a run and Reader feels frisky? Lust comes over the two and they make out, getting each other off? Basically they’re having a quickie on a run? Because the adrenaline is pumping if you get my gist... @positive-squid

Warnings: Smut. Profanity. Sexual content.

Rick could tell that something was off with you.

You weren’t acting badly or mean or anything.

But you seemed...antsy.

At first, he assumed that you were getting a little stir crazy.

Things in Alexandria had been good for a while, and mostly everyone had been sticking around trying to improve camp.

Even though Alexandria was extensive, he could understand how someone could still feel a bit caged in.

So he suggested that you accompany him on a run.

The two of you were close friends, so he didn’t see any issue with it.

He almost felt bad at how excited you got over it.

Rick figured that the group could always use more resources, so he didn’t feel as if this run was just for killing time.

You were bubbly as you slid into the passenger seat, positively stoked to be getting out for a bit.

Rick knew of a few places that needed to be scouted, so at least the two of you could get a day’s work out of this run.

It started as business as usual.

The two of you chatted as you scrounged for food or whatever else you could possibly use.

“Does Carl still need a pair of bigger boots? I think I just found a pair.”

“Sure, thanks. Do you think that Daryl would use this hairbrush?”

“Very funny.”

It was a pretty textbook run. The two of you chatted while you looked for things, throwing anything and everything even semi-useful into your backpacks.

Not to mention...it was brutally hot.

While it was a bit difficult to really ever truly know what day it was...

It was always unmistakable when summer had come back around.

The days were blistering hot and even the evenings were sticky and warm.

Sweat dripped down your back as you navigated the abandoned building that was somehow trapping more heat that you would’ve anticipated.

You had glanced over at Rick at one point to check on him, when you saw that he was having the same problem.

Sweat beaded around his forehead, some of it sliding down his face and neck.

He glistened in the daylight, his hard work being proven through his perspiration.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

It was the strangest feeling to be so drawn into him.

Sure, you had always found him attractive. It was hard to deny.

But you hadn’t really ever had a chance to just...look at him.

You eyed over his hands and arms as they moved stuff around.

His muscles flexed and relaxed in the most captivating way.

The veins in his hands and forearms were prevalent from both the heat and all the strenuous movement.

His dark curls were damp with sweat, yet he still looked so clean.

Your sights diverted to his hips, watching the way his legs moved in such a calculated way.

All kinds of dirty thoughts plagued your mind.

The thought of his hands around your throat.

His fingers in your mouth,

His cock buried somewhere deep inside of you.

He looked perfect.

A little too perfect.

It didn’t take him long to catch your stare, a confused smile as a quirked brow appearing on his features.

“Something wrong?”

You snapped out of your trance, embarrassed that he had just caught you staring.

“Nope!” You had squeaked, “All good here.”

He brushed it off, thinking you were tired from the day’s work.

It wasn’t until you were loading up the vehicle with all of your found resources that he noticed it again.

He noticed the way your eyes followed his every move.

The way you were listening extra closely when he spoke.

Something was on your mind, but he just didn’t expect that he was on your mind.

The two of you climbed into the truck, him in the driver’s seat and you in the passenger’s seat.

But he didn’t start the truck.

Instead he looked over at you, catching your bashful gaze.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Rick asked, this time a little more determined to figure it out.

You refused to admit to him that you had been pining over him for the last hour and a half.

Deny, deny, deny.

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

Rick wasn’t buying it.

He wasn’t buying that at all.

“You know, if something is bothering you, you can tell me. I don’t want you to be unhappy if it’s something I can fix.”

Oh, it was definitely something he could fix alright.

But still, there was no way that you were telling him that.

“I really am fine, Rick. Honestly.”

He still wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t want to push you.

He started the truck, thinking that he’d get through to you sooner or later.

The ride was quiet, both of you too caught up in your own thoughts to say much of anything.

You had tried to push your dirty thoughts aside, trying your hardest to control your feelings towards him.

But the way he looked in the late afternoon sun filtering in through the windows, mixed with the way he kept throwing side glances at you...you couldn’t.

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over, please.”

Rick obliged, worried that something was wrong.

He barely even managed to get the truck in park before you crawled over the center console into his lap.

He didn’t even have time to be stunned, because your lips crashed into his before he could speak.

It surprised you, but Rick didn’t really question it.

He kissed back with the same energy, fiery and passionately desperate.

His hand came to the back of your neck, keeping you close and allowing your lips to hover over his when you pulled back for air.

He could feel the heat pooling between your legs through his pants, and he knew it wasn’t from the summer heat.

“I never knew you felt so strongly about me.�� Rick had chuckled, already breathless from the heavy kissing.

He groaned when you dragged your clothed cunt over his thigh while you worked on getting his pants unbuckled.

He caught you in another kiss while you stroked his cock to an erection, his spine shuddering at the feeling of you touching him like this.

You praised yourself for deciding to wear shorts, getting them off with your free hand and with ease.

You knew you had limited space, since you weren’t too keen on doing this outside of the truck.

Not that you minded being in close quarters with Rick.

This was going to be a quick fuck.

You knew that this was the scratch the itch and the address the tension that had been building for a while.

Rick didn’t seem to mind that.

His fingers dragged through your folds, collecting your arousal as he rubbed the pads of his fingers on your clit.

You moaned at the feeling, the waves of pleasure already beginning and he hadn’t even gotten inside of you yet.

“You were really happy to be with me, huh?” Rick teased, spitting into his hand and lubricating himself just to be sure he didn’t hurt you.

Before you could respond, your hips were lifted by his hands and he slammed you down onto his cock to the point where your hip bones touched his.

A synchronized moan fell from your and Rick’s mouths, both of your head lulling back in ecstasy.

Rick wasn’t even moving yet and he was already stretching and filling you perfectly.

Suddenly, Rick was taking charge, which only added to your arousal.

He gave you a second to adjust to his size, letting you wriggle in his lap until you found an angle that was comfortable.

His hand tapped the side of your leg, prompting you to start moving.

You rotated between bouncing on his lap and rolling your hips, making sure that the satisfaction went both ways.

It was intoxicatingly perfect.

The way he felt stretching you and hitting every bundle of nerves possible.

The hot kisses and the heavy touches were everything you had ever dreamed of with Rick.

Your bounces were met by his thrusts, hitting your g-spot in the most flawless way.

You knew it wasn’t going to take long to get off.

This had been building up for far too long for your climax to be drawn out.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. Feel so good.” He babbled, cheeks flushed and pupils blown.

His head was reeling, and he wasn’t sure that he was totally comprehending what was happening right now.

All he knew is that he didn’t want this to be the first and only time.

His cock throbbed inside of you, his own release begging to be spilled out into you.

You felt the twitch, and that in and of itself is what caused your orgasm to break out all over you.

You came with a squeaky moan, your entire body tensing up around him as your head fell to his shoulder and your hands gripped the back of the seat.

He thrusted a couple more times before he came as well, his release spurting into you and milking his cock white as he groaned out your name.

Your bodies went limp, chests heaving with heavy breaths and post-coital sighs.

His hand rubbed up and down your back slowly, his cum leaking out of you and onto his bare thighs.

A few minutes of silence passed before you raised your head.

Your dilated eyes met his, and what you saw was pure lust and content.

Most importantly, you could see the anticipation through his eyes, all the way to his soul.

You weren’t sure why, but something in your gut told you that this wouldn’t be the last time that you fucked Rick Grimes.

#Rick Grimes #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes headcanons #rick grimes headcanon #rick grimes smut headcanon #rick grimes twd #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead smut #HC requests #positive-squid #twdbegins

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twdbegins · 3 years

Note

Daryl with an s/o who gets scared very easily ^^;

He always said it was a miracle that you had lasted this long.

Daryl cared about you endlessly, but he couldn’t fathom how your tendency to be spooked hadn’t gotten you killed.

In hindsight, he supposed that your tendency to be spooked was the reason you HADN’T been killed.

From day 1 he could tell that you were skittish.

He saw the way your eyes were constantly on the lookout for possible threats.

He knew to be careful when coming up behind you because you were usually quick to pull out your knife when sensing a presence outside of your line of sight.

He learned quickly how cautious you were.

Literally when it came to everything.

You were the best when it came to keeping watch, because you didn’t miss anything.

Daryl had coined the phrase “fright list”, which was his referral to all the things that scared you.

Daryl once compared you to a bunny, which ended up sticking and it soon became his favorite pet name for you.

“Come here, bunny. It’s just a little thunder.”

“It’s alright. That snake won’t hurt ya, bunny.”

Speaking of, those are two things that are high on your “fright list”.

Thunderstorms and potentially predatory animals.

If Daryl were to list off all of the times you had clung to him for dear life when a snake slithered by or a bee flew too closely...

Well, he’d be there a while.

Thankfully, you find comfort with him, and he knows how to simmer you down.

Thunderstorms are easy.

He pulls you in close and presses his lips to your ear, whispering sweet praises to settle you down.

He’ll leave light kisses to your head and caress your back in circles.

Then, of course, walkers are a huge spook for you.

Unfortunately, they are less easy to deal with.

Daryl knows that you won’t hesitate to kill them on your own (self defense, of course).

But he also knows that, if he’s around, then you’d rather him do it himself.

Walkers never fail to have you shaking in your boots (literally) and there have been many times where Daryl has had to all but carry you away.

Daryl would admit that he wasn’t great at comforting you at first, but over time he learned that speaking to you sweetly was the best way to simmer you out.

“Easy, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

“You’ve dealt with walkers before. They’ve got nothing on you, baby.”

“Did that snapping turtle scare you, bunny? I’ll add it to the fright list.”

Daryl is always slightly amused when you get scared of something, but it makes him feel helpless too.

There have been times where you’ve been frightened so badly that not even he could calm you down.

He hates it when you feel so afraid, because the world you live in is already scary enough.

But he knows he can’t change the way you are, and he surely can’t fix the world.

He’s content to comfort you in any way he can.

And he loves you enough to do it until the end of time.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x y/n #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twdbegins

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twdbegins · 3 years

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Soft Sex With Rick

Rick Grimes x Fem! Reader

Request: OKAY BUT- soft sex with Rick- 👀🤚

Warnings: Smut.

Rick is a pretty rough and tumble kind of guy.

Not so much as Daryl, but Rick has his fair share of being rough around the edges.

Sex with Rick can be...unpredictable.

You learned early on that sex with him solely depends on his mood and what kind of day he’s had.

If he’s been through the wringer and everybody’s pissing him off, then you know it’s time to prepare for sore legs and rough fucking.

If he’s had a day where things are looking good and everyone is acting accordingly, then you know you’ll probably be graced with something a little more “normal” paced.

But let’s talk about the days where things are really gentle.

It’s usually after Rick has had a long day, but not one that’s made him frustrated and upset.

It’s usually the days where Rick has time to think about how much life has changed over time.

How the apocalypse has taken so many friends and family from him.

It’s usually the days where he’s reminded that he needs to cling tight to the people he does have.

But sometimes he’ll just catch a mood where he wants to cherish you.

To take your time with you and love all the places he takes for granted.

His touches are much lighter.

His caresses are slower.

He’ll allow his lips to press kisses in the places that sometimes get passed by during times where things are rougher.

His voice is a lot deeper, and huskier.

“I really love you.”

“So beautiful.”

“I want to make love to you.”

It’s a more vulnerable side to him that you don’t get to see very often.

His walls come down and his heart isn’t as guarded.

His kisses are slow on your lips, working with them the way they always do.

His cheeks always flush red when he carries you to the bed, laying you down on your back so he can have all of you.

His hands never leave your body, slowly taking off your clothes while you work on removing his.

He sings his praises, complimenting every part of you.

“Such pretty tits, baby.”

“Oh, these gorgeous legs. Always look better wrapped around me.”

“These lips are all mine...so, so lucky.”

He’ll praise you until you’re shyly flustered, loving the way you get so bashful.

It takes a little longer to get you aroused when he’s going slow and gentle, so he may have to put in a little more effort.

His fingers are always cold against your cunt, running them through your folds and teasing your entrance to get your walls ready for him.

You love it when Rick is slow and gentle, but it can be PAINFULLY teasing.

Rick has to pay close attention to your movements and noises, since those are his signals for what to do.

“Rick, please.”

“Okay, baby, okay. I’m going to take care of you.”

When your hands come to grip his biceps, then he knows that you’re ready for him.

He wraps your legs around his waist carefully, leaving kisses from your ankle to your inner thigh before he does so.

His hands trail the warm skin of your legs, eventually holding your hips down to make sure you don’t go anywhere for now.

He lines himself up and pushes in glacially slow.

Your eyes never fail to flutter as you feel him bottom out inch by inch.

The moans and noises made are always deeper and more satisfactory, your bodies savoring every wave of pleasure and each new movement.

His thrusts are slow too, pulling out and pushing back in so gently and carefully.

His hand will come to interlace with yours, kisses trailing from your lips to your chest.

His kisses match the movement of his thrusts, your noses brushing together and tongues working together.

He keeps thrusting consistently, moving your body every so often so he’s hitting you at a new angle.

He knows that your legs being hoisted on his shoulders is always a favorite of yours, always drawing a delicious noise out of you.

“I know, angel. I know that’s the spot.”

When he’s not kissing you, his mouth is at work in other places.

He’ll suck on your breasts or run the flat of his tongue along your neck up to your pulse point.

He leaves hickies anywhere.

He marks you as his, convincing you to show them proudly the next day.

He knows when you’re getting close, because your whimpers get higher and your legs threaten to squirm more under his hold.

He will speed up just a touch to get you there, not wanting to torture you to your finish.

His cock will twitch somewhere deep inside of you, his tip prodding at your g-spot each time he goes back in.

Sometimes he’s going so easily that you’re afraid he’ll stop.

“Please, don’t stop- fuck, Rick.”

“I’m not gonna stop. Gonna make you cum, baby.”

Your eyes will roll back and your back will arch from the mattress when you cum, Rick’s release never being far behind.

You’ll moan and breath heavily through your climaxes.

You’ll mumble broken “I love yous” and lazy kisses when your bodies go limp.

Rick’s aftercare is immaculate.

Even though he hadn’t roughed you up, he still wanted to give you a lot of TLC.

He’ll kiss you and praise you for doing so well.

He gets you cleaned up and freshened up for bed.

He slips a shirt of his over you, getting you into bed and under the covers so you’re warm.

He’ll hold you close, responding to your lust ridden babbles even if you’re saying nothing coherent.

“I know, honey. Such a good girl.”

He lets you snuggle in close, stroking your back until you fall asleep in his arms.

He’ll lie away for some time after you’re asleep, thinking about how much he adores and loves you.

And then he’ll eventually join you in sleep, ready for a new day with you.

#Rick Grimes #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes x female #rick grimes headcanon #rick grimes headcanons #rick grimes smut #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes fluff #twdbegins

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twdbegins · 2 years

Text

Rick Grimes

☾ means smut (MDI !!!!)

☆ means my personal favorites

☾ means smut (MDI !!!!)

☆ means my personal favorites

Main blog: @allixiler

Other side blogs: @cowboymorgan , @detectivehannibal , and @detectivesvu

⚡️Headcanons ⚡️

Rick Dealing With You When You’re Jealous

Dating Rick Grimes (Young! Fem! Reader!) ☆

Negan and Rick Both Being Interested in You

Rick Getting Jealous ☾

Soft Sex With Rick ☆ ☾

Having Sex on a Run with Rick ☆ ☾

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x fem! reader #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes angst #rick grimes smut #rick grimes drabble #rick grimes imagines #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes oneshot #rick grimes headcanons #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes masterlist #twdbegins

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twdbegins · 2 years

Text

A Second Round

Simon x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Language. Blood. Mentions of violence.

Word Count: 2.4k

“What? Listen, he had it coming.”

“You can’t stay mad at me forever, sweetheart.” Simon charmed, a grin beaming wide on his face.

He didn’t get a verbal response from you, only a pissed off glance that sent a chill down his back. You continued to wrap his right hand that had busted knuckles and bruising skin that was stained with blood – giving him the silent treatment as you worked. It wasn’t often that you were irritated and upset with him, but it always gave him the jitters on the rare occasion that you were. You weren’t pleasant when you were angry, because it took more than the average person to get revved up. Simon was less level-headed, and that was part of the reason that he was in this situation now.

“I didn’t beat him that bad. He walked out of here pretty unharmed, right?” Simon questioned, speaking again to try to get an answer out of you.

That much was true. It had been more of a courtyard scuffle rather than a blowout fight. It was only enough for each of them to throw a few punches before getting broken up and separated. The other Savior didn’t have much injury other than an achy hand and a swelling eye that would be black and blue by the time morning came around. Simon had come in shortly after, just as you were closing the infirmary up for the night. His bloodied nose and the way he had been cradling his shredded hand was an immediate tell – and the victorious smile on his face had been a giveaway too.

“I just don’t know how many times I have to tell you to stop getting hurt at my expense.” You didn’t answer his initial question, keeping your motions gentle as you continued to tend to his hand.

“This is only the second time that I’ve gotten into a scrap with him. This time wasn’t nearly as bad as last time,” Simon reminded you. “I’m not just going to let him get away with shit-talking you.”

“He’s not worth it, Si. You know that.”

“I know, I know. I still can’t just turn the other way,” Simon’s free hand came to your hip to touch you. “You mean too much to me.”

Simon’s fateful Savior opponent wasn’t the most well-liked guy. He had only been at The Sanctuary for about six or seven months, and he had caused quite a stir in the current duration of his time. He had an ego that was so inflated that it was about the only thing that anyone could really notice about him. He wasn’t very fond of the idea of having to work his way up to a higher standing, and he really didn’t like the fact that it was impossible for him to get to the top. This guy found ways to fight everybody over absolutely anything. Simon thought of it as a dominance complex, but whatever it was, it was annoying.

Simon didn’t like him, and he didn’t like Simon. Simon did everything he could to keep his interactions limited with him, only conversing with him when he had to. Simon could handle the harsh comments and the threats when they were directed towards himself – he was used to Saviors who thought that they were bigger than what they were trying to get under his skin. Simon had developed an extreme patience for dealing with that, and now it was hardly even a blip in his day when those comments did make it to his ears.

Simon knew who he was, and he knew what his title held for him. As long as you and Negan were on good terms with him, then he didn’t rightly care about much else. However, today’s fight had been the second one in the last three months – and it wasn’t because the Savior in question had finally gotten to Simon.

The Savior wasn’t thrilled to learn that pretty much all of the women were off limits. The woman that he was interested in often held a “Negan’s wife” title, and he almost learned the hard way just how that system worked. It was one of his main complaints, because he was pretty much desperate for any lady to give him any kind of attention. All of the Saviors knew who you were – considering it was pretty standard to have to pay your infirmary a visit at least three or four times a year, not including the annual physical. When he caught word that you weren’t one of Negan’s wives, he was all over it. The catch was that no one told him that you had been with Simon for just over three years, and that information was lost on him. He started coming into the infirmary several times a week, and each visit was less urgent than the last.

It didn’t take you very long to figure out why he was coming by, which was when you had to deliver the news to him that you were indeed not on the market. Not surprisingly, that didn’t stop his attempts – and it wasn’t until you had to get Negan and Simon involved that he eased off. He was embarrassed from the rejection and annoyed that he had struck out once again, so he started loud-mouthing you. No one believed any of the shit he said, so his comments really just turned into insults. You brushed them off, not thinking anything of it – but Simon didn’t brush them off, not even close.

“I don’t want to have to get used to patching you up every other week,” You told him, your tone a little more friendly than before. “You can’t afford to get hurt over someone like him.”

Simon scoffed at that. He hardly considered him any real threat. Besides, Negan was always on Simon’s side, so it wasn’t like he was risking getting into any massive trouble. Simon was pretty sure that someone bigger and angrier would take care of that Savior’s loud mouth without Simon even having to play into it. He wasn’t worried, but that didn’t stop him from reassuring you.

“I promise you, doll. I’d fight him any day.” Simon snickered.

“Simon!” You scolded.

“What? Listen, he had it coming.” Simon defended himself.

“You don’t have anything to prove, you know.” You reminded him, and he nodded.

“I know that,” He agreed. “But would you stand aside if one of the wives started talking shit about me?”

Simon knew he had you pinned there. You were a bit hypocritical for thinking the desire to defend the other’s dignity was a one way street. It was the truth after all – you would’ve done the same thing if the roles had been reversed.

The first time that Simon had heard your name come out of the Savior��s mouth had been a bad altercation. Simon didn’t even give the guy a chance to explain or allow any room for reasoning. Simon beat him to the ground, and beat him until he physically couldn’t anymore. That had been a rough cleanup, and it took almost two weeks for Simon to heal up and start feeling well again. Simon’s injuries had been nothing compared to his opponent, who was out of commission for double the time that Simon was.

You had not been happy with Simon after that fallout. Your worry and concern drifted into aggravation once you had gotten Simon taken care of because you never, ever wanted Simon to pick fights with people over you. Simon hadn’t regretted what he had done, but he wasn’t pleased with knowing that it had upset you like it had. That hadn’t been his intention whatsoever, but he made a note to himself not to let it get so out of hand next time. Simon honestly didn’t even expect there to be a next time. He assumed that his message had been crystal clear and duly delivered. He was proven wrong, though, when the same thing happened again.

Simon had been finishing up for the night, doing last minute chores and making sure everyone else was squared away. He was navigating through The Sanctuary, passing through the lower warehouse when he heard the Savior’s dreaded voice – and the content of what he was saying was even less admired. It was the same criticisms as before, and it seemed that Simon’s nemesis hadn’t learned his lesson. Simon had kept you in mind as he decided what to do to handle the situation. He truly did try to talk it out first, but didn’t get very far. The fight was broken up before it could escalate to anything major – and Simon didn’t even stick around to bask in the glory. He instead went straight to you to both gossip about it and get his hand fixed up.

“Just try to avoid him….more than you already have,” You requested of him dryly, wrapping the last of his now clean and dressed hand. “Give your hand a few days to heal.”

Simon’s hand fell from your side when you walked away to go back to the cabinet, and he looked at his bandaged hand.

“Do you think I’ll have a scar?” Simon asked, changing the subject.

You reached for a pack of clean gauze, taking it into your hands as you looked back at Simon. He was observing his hand closely, an amused smirk on his face as he looked it over.

“I don’t think so,” You told him. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Ah. I guess I can’t win ‘em all.” He sighed.

He could tell that you still weren’t pleased with him, but you were beginning to crack. The truth was, you were grateful that Simon felt compelled to stand up for you – but you never liked the thought of him getting hurt over it. There were some massively strong Saviors at The Sanctuary, and some of them were bigger than Simon. There had been Savior fights not involving Simon that you had to see the aftermath of, and it wasn’t always pretty. You had seen Saviors nearly beaten to death, and some of them had been beaten to death. You were only irritated over Simon getting involved because you cared about him – if you didn’t love him, then you wouldn’t bitch at him about it.

“So, does your boyfriend get a kiss for being such a good patient?” He asked when you returned to stand in front of him.

His feet dangled off of the exam table as he sat patiently, his brown pools staring up at you with expectation.

“If you stay still and let me clean you up, then maybe.” You replied, soaking the corner of one of the gauze pads in a cleaning disinfectant – it was the best supplies that you had to get the blood off.

Simon’s nose area was bloodied and red, staining his skin and his facial hair. You carefully wiped and rid his face of the dried blood, being careful not to aggravate his nose in case it was broken.

“What are you going to tell Negan in the morning? You know he’s going to sit you down and grill you about it.” You said, apologizing when he winced when you touched a sensitive spot on his nose.

“I’ll tell him the same as last time,” Simon shrugged. “Fucker was being an asshole.”

“And that’ll hold up?” You acquired.

“Sure it will. I think he’d be disappointed if I gave him any other reason,” Simon chuckled. “Do you think I’ll be fine to work tomorrow?”

Simon’s nose didn’t feel broken anywhere, and the worst case scenario was that it’d be sore for him for a couple of days. Simon was relatively unscathed, and for that you were thankful.

“Yeah, just don’t do too much with your hand. I can take a look at it again in the morning,” You offered. “It’ll be okay in a week or so.”

Simon nodded with understanding, standing from the table and rising to his feet. He used his good hand to pull you into him, his tall frame towering over you. You didn’t react much, and he couldn’t help but feel a little hurt.

“Don’t be like that, baby. You know that I don’t make a habit out of getting into fights,” He pleaded for something other than the cold shoulder, “Kiss me.”

It was tempting. Everything about him was tempting. He knew that he had you beat, and that you couldn’t stay pissed off about something that you easily would’ve done too. Against your wishes, your lips crept into a smile – your head raising to kiss him sweetly. He chuckled into the kiss, a feeling of relief flushing over him. He was serious this time that he was done getting into squabbles with that guy, because Simon knew better than to test his luck by asking for your forgiveness over and over again.

“Are you tired?” You asked when you pulled away.

“Unbelievably.” He answered, and it was clear on his face.

“Well, what do you say we go to bed? It’s late, and I could use a good night of sleep.” You told him, and he agreed with that statement.

You put everything back in the cabinet and closed everything up for the night. You’d be back in the morning, but it was always best to secure everything. You and Simon walked to his room side by side, catching up on each other’s days before the fight.

“Negan wants me to scout some place that someone tipped him off about. Apparently it potentially has some useful stuff,” Simon explained as the two of you climbed the staircase to your floor. “I’m supposed to be going with Arat, but I’m sure that I could convince her to take a raincheck if you want to go instead.”

“I’d have to ask Negan. He might want me to stick around for any unforeseen fist fights.” You tried to hide your smirk as he held the door open for you to walk past him.

“Come on, honey. Cut me some slack,” Simon huffed, following you through the door and pulling you back into him by your waist to make you stop walking. “I only did it because I love you.”

That much you knew, and you couldn’t help but notice the sudden warmth in your cheeks at his words of affection.

“I know. I just wish you’d be a little more careful.” You admitted, and his expression turned sympathetic.

“I’m always careful,” He professed, pressing his lips to the center of your forehead. “I’ll always make sure that I make it back to you at the end of the day.”

#simon twd #simon twd x reader #simon twd x fem! reader #simon twd x female reader #simon twd x you #simon twd x y/n #simon twd fluff #simon twd hurt/comfort #simon twd oneshot #simon twd oneshots #simon twd imagine #simon twd imagines #simon twd fanfic #simon twd fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twdbegins

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twdbegins · 3 years

Text

Rick Getting Jealous

Rick Grimes x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Language.

Rick doesn’t get jealous often.

He’s a pretty confident and secure guy.

He never really feels the need to get defensive when it comes to you.

But it happens from time to time.

And it is a sight to see.

Rick gets super red in the face. Like, his cheeks are glowing red.

He has this vein in the side of his neck that can only be seen when he’s mad.

That vein will be POPPING out. You can’t miss it.

He’ll stand a little taller and a bit prouder.

If he’s REALLY upset then his hands might start to shake in fury.

While he’s jealous, everything he does is aggressive.

So if he’s folding clothes, you can almost bet that they’ll have permanent creases in them because he’s being too rough.

He’s broken several dishes from slamming them into the sink too hard.

His voice will drop an octave or two, and his accent is thicker.

He’ll keep his responses short too, and he will NOT use his favorite petnames for you.

“Rick, can you hand me my knife, please?”

“Mhm.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

And God help if Negan is the one who has made Rick jealous.

Rick and Negan’s relationship is a bad one, and Rick loses his shit when Negan makes passes at you.

Rick almost always tries to convince himself to kill him.

He knows better, but it’s still a thought that crosses his mind.

Rick will stand toe-to-toe with Negan if need be.

He’ll stare him straight in the face and say some fucking nasty things to him.

“Don’t fucking talk to her. Don’t even look at her.”

This never really phases Negan, but he finds it impressive and amusing.

It’s pretty obvious when he’s jealous.

You know when something has pissed him off.

You always approach him with caution and comfort, because you know it takes a lot to get him jealous.

You’ll rub his shoulders or take his hand into yours to let him know you’re there.

You’ll kiss him even though he won’t give much of a response.

It’s just to get him to warm up to you.

You might sit in his lap so he has to look at you.

Sometimes you’ll put his hands on you so he can’t resist you.

He’ll deny that he’s jealous.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

He’s a bit of a sulker.

So he might just pout there for a while.

Eventually, he will somewhat admit that someone had made him insecure.

Usually it’s just because Daryl made a comment to you that Rick took the wrong way or maybe he felt like Abraham looked at you for just a bit too long.

You take it seriously when he’s jealous, but you’ll admit that Rick is cute when he’s mad.

It doesn’t take much to make him feel better.

“You don’t have to be jealous, Rick. I love you and you only. You know that.”

He’ll blush a little and squeeze your sides to remind himself that you’re there with him.

He’ll break into a smile when you kiss him all over.

And jealous sex with Rick?

Almost a guarantee.

Every time.

He will not let you forget who you belong to.

He’s always rougher and harder when he’s jealous.

He’ll make you cum until you physically can’t take it anymore.

Rick will keep you close afterwards, making sure you’re okay after being rough with you.

He’ll stroke your skin and kiss your body.

Reminding himself that you love him and he loves you.

#Rick Grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes headcanon #rick grimes headcanons #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x female reader #twdbegins

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