MASTERLIST

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QUICK INTRO

she/her, before i was a writer i was an editor on instagram (@sanjixvc) and tik tok (@blossomkirk) had nothing to do with twd then i only edited animanga and bands i liked. nowadays i edit kpop on tik tok (@wooyungz)

ABOUT

buy me a coffee! (i use all tips to pay for my college classes, don’t ever feel obligated to send something!)

i speak spanish and english feel free to talk to me in whichever you feel most comfortable with!

if you don’t speak either that’s completely okay, translation apps exist for a reason! i will happily respond regardless :)

im BIG on mental health, if anyone is struggling and needs someone to talk to, my dms are ALWAYS open. i major in neuroscience and am mental health technician certified, please confide in me if you ever feel alone.

INTERESTS

media: walking dead (season 9 so far), invincible, alice in borderland, one piece, jik, dexter, breaking bad

The sun was low when you finally stopped walking.

The trees around you had started to thin out, opening into a quiet clearing, half drenched in golden light. It had been Daryl’s idea to come out here—no real reason, no mission or run or task, just the kind of day where neither of you wanted to sit in the same walls in Alexandria. The kind of day that needed air and sky and space to feel like yourself again.

You didn’t even say much as you walked. You never had to. It was one of the things Daryl loved most about being with you—how your silence was never empty. It was just soft. Easy. Like breathing. Like peace.

He sat beside you now in the grass, arms resting over bent knees, crossbow abandoned somewhere behind him. The wind was gentle, barely moving the leaves. And in front of you, the horizon burned slow with honey gold and amber, the last of the light casting long shadows across Daryl’s profile. He was still watching the sky when he felt it. The soft weight of your gaze settling on him instead.

He glanced your way, brows twitching into the smallest knit.

“What?” he mumbled, his voice low and rough.

But you only smiled, slow and quiet like the light around you.

“I’m just so lucky,” you said.

His nose twitched like he didn’t know what to do with that.

“Jesus. Can’t even get a minute without you cheesin’ over me, huh?”

You laughed gently and bumped your shoulder against his.

“Can’t help it,” you whispered. “You’re beautiful.”

The word hit him like a weight. You watched his expression shift—not in a way most people would notice. But you did. His eyes dropped for a second. His shoulders went still. And then, almost like he had to reset, he cleared his throat and looked off again, avoiding your gaze.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, your voice even softer now.

“I know you’re not one for words,” you murmured. “That’s why I always tell you how much I love you. Someone’s gotta do the talking for both of us.”

He didn’t say anything. But he didn’t move, either. He just stayed there—still and warm and steady while the sun dipped behind the trees and left nothing behind but the quiet and the knowing.

—

By the time you made it back to Alexandria, the sky was dark.

The walk back had been quiet, hands brushing occasionally. Daryl always seemed more thoughtful at night, like the dark made it easier for him to exist without feeling like he had to explain himself. You never pushed him for words. You just followed him home.

Once inside, you both changed quietly. You slipped on a clean shirt, Daryl tugged a loose tee over his head. The routines were natural now, shared like second nature—soft touches here and there, the brush of fingers at your back, the subtle checkin of “you good?” murmured into the hallway.

It wasn’t long before you were both in bed, the sheets cool and clean. You curled into your side, body relaxed, limbs heavy in that way that only happened when you’d spent the whole day with the man you loved. You didn’t even say goodnight. You just sighed contentedly, and let the quiet lull you into sleep.

Daryl lay there, back half turnt to you at first. But after a while, he rolled over. Just to look.

And there you were. Already asleep.

The moonlight from the window framed your face in soft silver, and Daryl’s breath caught a little in his throat. He didn’t know why it always hit him like this, seeing you still, peaceful, unbothered by the world. It did something to him. Made his chest ache. Made his hands twitch with the want to hold you closer than he already did.

He stared at you for a long time.

Then, carefully, he lifted a hand, brushing a loose strand of hair from your cheek. His thumb lingered near your temple, barely there. You didn’t stir.

His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper.

“You looked at me like I was the one glowin’.”

He swallowed. Tried again.

“You’re the one that’s beautiful. You always been.”

A pause. The kind that stretched like a held breath.

“I—I ain’t good at sayin’ it. Ain’t ever been. But I love you. Been meanin’ to say that more.”

His voice broke just slightly on the last word. But you didn’t wake. You just breathed slow and even, and he let the silence settle again.

He scooted closer, his chest now barely brushing your back, one arm curling around your waist like it belonged there. His forehead dipped until it rested gently against the back of your shoulder, and he breathed you in—soft, lavender warm, familiar.

“I love you,” he whispered again, softer this time. “So damn much.”

You didn’t answer. But maybe you didn’t need to.

Not when he already had you.

Not when you were already his.

The bed was too big without him.

The sheets were warm, freshly tossed from his side of the mattress, but the weight was gone. You curled your knees toward your chest, burying your face in the pillow he’d just slept on. It still smelled like him—something only he carried. Your eyes burned.

You weren’t sad. Not really. Just… tired.

Empty.

Nothing in you wanted to cry or scream or even move. You just laid there, blinking slow, like a machine that hadn’t powered off properly.

The door creaked open. His footsteps were quiet—always were—but your body still twitched at the familiar sound.

You didn’t lift your head. Just sighed softly into the pillow. “You showered?”

“Yeah.” His voice was low, raspy. “Didn’t mean t’wake ya.”

You shook your head lazily, still not looking at him. “Wasn’t asleep.”

There was a pause. Then the mattress dipped behind you and you felt his palm slide across your waist as he leaned close.

“Somethin’ wrong?” he murmured.

You swallowed hard. You didn’t mean to say it—didn’t even plan to—but your voice cracked on instinct, low,

“I just feel empty.”

His hand stopped. Stayed right there, holding you like he was afraid to let go.

You heard him exhale through his nose. Then he kissed your shoulder, soft and slow.

“You ain’t gotta do nothin’, alright? Don’t gotta talk. Don’t gotta explain.”

“Just lemme hold you.”

You finally turned your head. Your eyes met his. The softness in them nearly broke you. There wasn’t pity, there was only care.

He kissed your cheek. Brushed your hair back. Let his fingers linger a little longer along your jaw, then whispered:

“Y’wanna feel close, baby? Jus’ need me to stay?”

You blinked back warmth. Nod. “I just… don’t want to feel like this anymore. Just for tonight.”

He nodded too. “Yeah? I gotcha. C’mere.”

Daryl pulled you into him, tugging the sheets down, the quiet of the night swallowing the space between your bodies. He undressed you gently—not like he wanted to fuck you, not like he was rushing. Just carefully. Like undressing a wound.

He slid off his own boxers, slow and quiet. His hands were warm when they moved across your hips, guiding you into his lap. You straddled him, breath catching just a little as he lined himself up.

There was no fanfare. No foreplay. Just… connection.

The stretch was warm and easy, your body already so used to his. You sank down with a sigh that caught in your throat, pressing your chest to his as you slid him all the way inside. And once he was there,deep and still, you exhaled like you had just remembered how to.

“That better?” he whispered, pressing his lips to your temple.

You nodded against his neck. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders. He held you tighter.

Neither of you moved.

You weren’t doing this to get off.

You were doing this to feel full.

To feel held.

To let someone else carry the weight for a while.

He ran his fingers up and down your spine, whispering praise that wasn’t even meant to arouse—it was just the truth.

“So warm like this…”

“Ain’t never felt anythin’ like you…”

“You’re safe, baby. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

“Just let me hold you. That’s all y’gotta do tonight.”

Your legs softened around his hips. His hands spread wide across your back like he was trying to protect every inch of you. You blinked slow. His heartbeat thudded under your ear like a lullaby.

“M’gonna fall asleep like this,” you mumbled, already drifting.

He chuckled so softly, rubbing slow circles into your hips.

“That’s alright. I’ll be right here. Jus’ sleep, sweetheart.”

And so you did.

Wrapped in him.

Filled by him.

Safe.

You didn’t feel empty anymore.