#sitting on a hilltop

[bosspigeon]

i wish honeycomb weren't so goddamn expensive bc a chunk of honeycomb with some brie and blackberries is something akin to a religious experience

[hannyhann]

Dating Daryl Dixon (NSFW and SFW)

Apologies I haven’t made more, I just moved and I’m switching jobs atm. I’m writing a Daryl x Reader fic, it may not be long but I hope you still enjoy when it’s out. For now, enjoy some head canons.

This is both NSFW and SFW , so of course, minors DNI!!!!!

Dating Daryl Dixon would include;

Late night talks, this would be the only time you actually get to have peace, so of course you both take advantage of it

There would be no labels to you’re relationship until he either proposes to you or just randomly calls you his wife one day

Despite not having a label , you know you’re his and he’s yours

There would definitely be nights where you just fuck, he doesn’t care if people hear, he just wants to be with you

Daryl would be stern with you and you both would have arguments, but nothing to the point you are cruel with each other

This man would bring you flowers when you’re sad, dying on this hill!!!

You’d put flowers in his hair as well

You and Daryl’s first time would be kind of shit, much like Maggie and Glenn’s, but of course you find out each others likes and dislikes

Daryl would be rough, but naturally you’d teach him how to be slow, but of course you enjoy his roughness

Constantly grabbing your ass and putting his head on your shoulder as he does it

Daryl would start falling in love with you at the CDC (I’m sobbing)

He would reassure you and go “hey hey” and grab your jaw or waist and look at you

Daryl may not say much sometimes, but you know he’s listening

You would love Daryl and Carols friendship, you actually think it’s cute

Daryl would make sure you have a comfy place to sleep every night

Making sure you eat first is a definite

Daryl would love eating you out, the way this man would go insane over it oh my god

He would grab your hips/hip dips as he’s eating you out 😔🙏 don’t question the messenger

Daryl would love when you sit on his lap

He would be such a girl dad

He would make sure you are priority when you’re pregnant , he would annoy the others sometimes with it, but understandably so

Daryl visiting you while you’re pregnant at Hilltop

Daryl would be mean to you at first , but it’s only because deep down he knows he has a fat crush on you, he would call you all sorts of names and curse you out LMAO

Daryl tries to sass or be mean to you in the early days, but every time he looks into your eyes he falters hard and just yells “never mind!” and brushes you off

The first time yall kiss, Daryl would be the one to initiate it

My head canon for when you first kiss is you tell Andrea off about shooting Daryl in the head, of course yall fight, but you go to Daryl with a plate of food as he’s resting. Naturally you’re upset and crying, and Daryl’s like “hey- I’m alive ain’t I?” as he grabs your cheeks before he kisses you- MY HEART

I hope you enjoyed <33333

[concerningwolves]

the last chapter I had to write was not actually the final chapter (which already exists from a previous draft), but chapter 49. thing is though, endings are scary. and the obvious solution to "endings scary" was to simply.... Not finish chapter 49 apparently.

But! This evening i decided enough was enough and that if nothing else I was at least going to block out the end of the chapter in rough, by hand. and you know what? it worked.

so now all I gotta do tomorrow is refine the previous draft's last chapter and then The Kindness of Ravens draft 3 is done :3

Good news: I have one (1) last chapter of this draft of The Kindness of Ravens left to write

Even better news: this draft is PRECISELY 50 chapters instead of an awkward 49 or 51 :D

[daryltwdixon]

Daryl Dixon x Reader blurb

Daryl arrives to Hilltop after escaping Negan's prison and sees you x

Content: fluff, emoshie af

author's note: sorry to make you the victim of my emotional wreckage today

gifs are mine

The ache of missing him would never truly leave you. It was always sitting heavy in your chest, sharp and unyielding, no matter how hard you tried to smother it. You’d carried it through endless nights, through mornings that felt emptier than the last, and through those small moments when you’ve turned, expecting to see him, wanting to tell him something... only to be met with silence.

So today, you made yourself get up and finally get on with it. You had to pull your weight at Hilltop, that much was made clear by Gregory. So, you're heading out with a steaming mug of tea in hand, ready to head over to the gardens when the gates creak open, but you don’t even glance up at first. It’s just another moment in the blur of endless survival. You step down from the trailer, boots hitting the dirt, your hand wrapped around the warm ceramic in your hand.

But when your eyes instinctively look for the source of the sound of footsteps, and you look up to see Jesus.

And then... then, you see him and the only noise is the rush of blood in your ears and the shattering of the mug on the ground beneath your feet. You freeze, your breath hitching, disbelief anchoring your feet in place.

Daryl.

He stands just inside the gate, still and silent, his body thin and battered, his hair hanging in messy, greasy strands over his face. He looks like a ghost, like a man you’ve been mourning for months but never truly buried. His arms hang limply at his sides, and his shoulders slump under some unbearable weight. His eyes—shadowed by his bangs—stay fixed on the ground.

Your heart lurches, and before you know it, your feet move on their own, carrying you toward him in a stumbling, desperate rush. Tears are filling your eyes, heavy and blurring, and you blink them away frantically, desperate to keep him in your sight. You don’t care about the people around you, the noise--anything. All you care about is him. Your breath comes in gasps, sobs building in your chest, but just as you’re about to reach him, you stop.

It’s like hitting an invisible wall.

You hover just a few steps away, your chest heaving, the reality of him so close it threatens to break you. He’s alive. He’s here. He’s here. Your lips tremble, your tears slipping freely down your face as you stand frozen, staring at him.

He lifts his head slowly, his bangs shifting just enough to reveal his eyes. The hollowness in them makes you ache, but it’s the slight quiver of his chin when he sees you that is your undoing. His lips press into a tight line, and for a moment, he just looks at you, his face a mask of pain that’s barely holding together.

Then his head drops, his bangs falling back over his eyes, shielding them from you as if he can’t let you see what’s underneath. But before you can close the distance, he moves. His head bows further, and he takes the last step himself, pushing into you with a quiet, desperate motion.

You catch him, your arms wrapping around him as his weight collapses into you. He’s shaking, his breaths coming in uneven gasps against your shoulder. You press your hand to the back of his head, your fingers slipping into his hair, gripping it gently.

A sob bursts from your chest, ragged and raw, and you clutch him tighter, burying your face into the curve of his neck. The relief you feel is so strong it's nearly painful. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make a sound, but you can feel the way his shoulders tremble, the way his fists curl weakly into the fabric of your shirt.

But then his knees start to give out, and you feel him sag against you. Your arms tighten instinctively, trying to keep him standing, but it’s no use. Your legs can’t hold the weight of both your griefs, and together, you sink to the ground.

Your knees hit the dirt, and he falls with you, his arms still locked around you as his head bows against your shoulder. You cradle him, pulling him even closer, and he lets out a sound—a broken, muffled gasp that’s somewhere between a sob and a breath. It shatters something inside you.

Your free hand slides to his back, your palm pressing firmly against the ridge of his spine. His shoulders shake harder now, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, and you can feel his tears dampening the curve of your neck.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, grounding him, grounding yourself. You sob into the silence, your face buried in his shoulder, your body trembling against his. The dirt beneath your knees feels sharp, cold, but you barely notice it. All you know is the heat of him, the way he clings to you like you’re his only tether to the world.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, kneeling in the dirt with him wrapped in your arms. Time seems to stop, the weight of everything you’ve lost, everything you thought you’d never have again, pouring out of both of you in broken breaths and quiet tears.

And for the first time in months, you let yourself feel it all—the pain, the relief, the love. He’s here, and so are you, and in this moment, that’s enough.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

It was still dark out when you heard Daryl moving softly about your little camp. You shifted on your bedroll and smiled when his poncho slipped down off you as your propped yourself up on your palm. You rubbed at the sleep still keeping your eyelids heavy. "Daryl?" you called softly.

"Yeah, 'm righ' here," he drawled quietly, materializing in the low glow of the coals.

"Is everything okay?" you asked, your breath rising in a translucent cloud in the cold air.

He nodded. "Yeah. I heard somethin'. S'just a deer. Go back to sleep."

You studied his broad shoulders for a moment and a flame of heat wicked up suddenly in your chest. "Are you?"

"Uhh—" he shrugged. "I dunno. Not sure if I can. I ain't much good at goin' back to sleep once 'm up."

"Mmmm," you hummed, nodding. "Well," you went on, sitting up, "we can get warm again now and maybe that will help." You leaned forward and Daryl watched you throw some small sticks on the coals and stir them around, blowing the ash away. The sticks caught and soon you had fed the fire back to life.

Daryl sunk down a short distance away from you, chewing on his bottom lip. It was a nervous habit of his that you knew well. "Are you alright? Something on your mind?" you asked.

His blue eyes shot up to land on your face again. "Yeah... kinda..."

"You wanna talk about it or no?"

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and ducked his head for a moment, trying to heave up some courage like an anchor from the depths. "Could—" he gulped, "—could you be happy... here with me? I mean," he suddenly became very interested in a loose string on his pants, "if I asked ya to—to stay? I know that would mean ya can't go back to Hilltop with Maggie. I know that... ya can't be in two places at once. But—"

Your face suddenly grew into an elated smile, and you seemed to brighten with a glow as it did. When Daryl hazarded a glance at you again, he couldn't look away. "Are you asking me to?"

He gulped again, but nodded. "Yeah. I am. I just—" his brow furrowed for a moment as he tried to figure out how to voice his feelings, "—I feel like part of me is missin' when ya ain't here."

Your expression softened and Daryl's heart raced. "I feel the same way. Exactly the same."

A cool rush of relief passed over Daryl. "Ya do?"

"I do," you said, nodding again.

Daryl thought he was about to burst he was so happy.

Prompt: "Could you be happy here with me?"

[formylovetodaryldixon]

“When you finally came back.” Daryl Dixon Imagine.

After escaping from the saviors, Daryl and you finally meet again to stay together this time. And there, alone, your husband gives you a letter that perhaps expresses a little of what you mean to him.

A/N: This is an imagine I wrote looong time ago. This is literally my second try to write smut, but I don't do it often because I feel i can't express properly how the characters feel :( But I tried, so I hope you like it AND the letter Daryl gives to you. Thank you!

We’ll find a way to get you back. Okay? Just be strong, please. The only thing he can’t take away from you is your strength. So you just have to prove them you are stronger than them.”

With the light steps of a professional hunter, like the most dangerous and silent animal, that predator that doesn't make the slightest noise before catching its prey, Daryl walks through the empty halls, in the middle of those cold and gray walls. The small chance of escaping from that place is shaped as a key, hiding in the pocket of the trousers he stole from Dwight’s room, not without destroying his carved figurines on the table first. Daryl is agile to avoid the saviors, deathly silent as he takes that pipe, running down the last aisle before turning in the right corner to leave the place, hiding his face under a cap.

Finally, Daryl opens the door to get out of the building, running to the first bike on the line full of them.

“What the hell…” Fat Joey looks at Daryl, who looks at him back, holding a calm, but completely threatening look. “Wow. Wow…” Joey drops the half of his sandwich and raises his hands in the air, just to show he is harmless. “It’s cool. I swear…”

Daryl approaches him, slowly, his gaze fixed on the frightened prey in front of him.

“Buddy, you can walk down that back gate there and I won’t say anything to anybody. I’m supposed to be there now, but… listen… I… I’m just trying to get by, just like you… Please…”

But, with a contained fury that surpasses human strength, Daryl lifts the pipe and smashes it into Joey’s head, again and again, and again. He remembers the brutality with which he was treated, the fear, and the anger that explodes inside him right there, letting out all the pain in the most inhuman way possible.

Turning around the corner, Jesus runs to him from behind some trucks, stopping at the bloody commotion.

“Daryl…” Jesus says, but Daryl doesn’t stop while the blood splashes on his clothes and part of his face. “Daryl!”

Like being pulled out of a trance, Daryl finally stops, looking at what is left of Joey.

“He was jus' walkin’ by here… but it ain’t 'bout gettin’ by.” Daryl breathes out, dropping the pipe. Rick’s gun is hanging from Joey’s waist and Daryl takes it, straightening up himself to look at Jesus. “Ya know anythin’ 'bout ma wife?”

“Yeah. Carl said she’s fine so don’t worry. You will be with (Y/N) again very soon.” Jesus looks at Joey quickly before looking back at Daryl, still surprised by what had happened.

Daryl nods absently, thinking about you as he walks again to the bike.

“I got the key. Let’s go.”

As the others enter the Hilltop through the tall wood gates, your owl brooch slips from your shaky hand in the middle of your way. You are nervous, and you stop yourself to pick it up. The brooch has two silver owls sitting on a branch, and it might have been cheesy if you had received it in the old world you used to live in, and although Daryl said that too when he gave it to you, the gift was a reminder of him.

Finally, you walk through the open gates, but stopping yourself again as you hold the brooch a little harder when you see Daryl pulling away from Rick’s hug when he looks at you. Rick smiles before patting his best friend’s back so Daryl can walk to you, without stopping for a single second. You feel the tingling in your chest, something moving inside you, like the flapping of thousands of butterflies. Then, he picks you up from the ground, taking you in a warm embrace as you wrap your legs around his waist, arms around his neck as his strong arms around your back hold you tight. Still holding the brooch, you hide your face in the crook of his neck as you feel a total relief to see him safe.

A breath of air for the times you two stopped breathing, hearts beating again for the times they stopped beating, bodies aching for the time you two were apart.

“I made it, peach.” Daryl says, breathless, pulling apart just a little to look into your eyes. “I made it thanks to ya.”

But you shake your head saying no, pushing his hair away from his eyes.

“You made it because you’re strong.”

Then, Daryl smiles softly, finally in peace before kissing you.

After the failed attempt to convince Gregory to fight against Negan, fighting against the urge to shoot him when he found a polite way to tell you all to go to hell, while using the back door of the Hilltop, you all go to see King Ezekiel looking for help, guided by Jesus and his good intentions, but that doesn’t work either. King Ezekiel wanted to give asylum to Daryl, but he rejected it believing that the lack of strength from the king against the saviors wasn’t going to help you all beat Negan and his sadistic people.

It was a waste of time for Daryl, so with all of you standing in the middle of the street in the Kingdom, he puts his hand on your lower back to make you turn, pulling you with him to get out of there. One by one, the group walk to the exit too, plunging into a new kind of disappointment.

“Hey. Open it up!” Daryl says to the man in charge of the front doors. “We’re gone.”

The gates make a metallic sound and it opens for the group who walk out of there.

“You’re not.” Rick says to Daryl, and in the middle of his confusion, Daryl takes your hand to stop you.

“I ain’t stayin’ here.” He says looking at Rick, his accent getting thick, his voice deep but full of frustration.

“You have to. It’s the smartest play. You know it is.” Rick places his hand on Daryl's shoulder, trying to tell him with words and a kind look that this is what he had to do. “Try to talk to Ezekiel. Whatever it takes. We’ll be back soon.” Rick walks out of the kingdom, looking at you both before the doors closed. “We’ll come back for you two.”

Alone in that unfamiliar place, Morgan guides you two to a room so you both can rest. Your spirit is more tired than your body, so you say thank you before following him, with Daryl taking your hand to let himself be guided as well.

Uneasy with the lack of support, but not wanting to say anything because more negativity is not going to help save the situation, you lie back in bed on your right side, kicking your boots off first, head on the pillow, your disappointed gaze lost in the window. Daryl closes the door, locking it before approaching the bed as well, taking his boots off as well before lying on his side so he could look you in the eyes this time.

"We will going to be okay, right?" You ask, in a small voice.

His hand looks for the warm of your body, your soft skin under your black t-shirt, smiling at the contact he missed so much.

"We will, peach."

The sunlight comes in, the garden is green on the outside, people’s voice passing by the building, thinking they will be safe forever. Even if Daryl doesn’t want to stay there he had to. It was necessary for him to be safe from the saviors. However, now, he seems to enjoy your hand massaging his hair. His eyes are closed, growling softly once in a while every time you touch a good place. Everything seems to be okay when the world is as quiet as it is right now, without the endless grunting of the walkers, nor Negan’s voice that had no mercy.

“Stop thinkin’ 'bout it, peach.” Daryl says softly, opening his eyes again, taking your hand away from his hair to hold it in his. “We’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

He watches the ring in your finger, the place where it belonged to, and then, Daryl finally looks at you for real. This time, for a moment at least, there is not a shred of shame in his gaze, exposing himself completely to you, as he did every time you two were alone, because it was easy for him to be who he really was with you. Your love was the kind of love he never thought he would get, or deserved, but there you are now: loving him like no one else ever did.

“I got somethin’ for ya…” His hand leaves yours, looking in the back pocket of his pants. But suddenly, it is as if a feeling of vulnerability comes over him as Daryl pulls a folded sheet of paper, handing it to you as his blue eyes sparkle with a new kind of shyness. “S’something I wrote for ya… ’bout ya, actually.”

You smile at him before looking at the paper, but without opening it yet. You know Daryl never was good with words, even when there was so much he wanted to tell you, so you understand that he decided to write those feelings down. But they weren't even a quarter of what he really felt for you.

“Can I read it now?” You look at him kindly, giving him the option to be there or not if he wasn't comfortable with it. "If not, I can wait until I'm alone."

“Ya can read it.” He gets closer to you, pushing you softly for you to lay on your back, climbing on you, his nose brushing your skin as he starts kissing your neck, his hand caressing your side. “I'll entertain myself with somethin’ else.”

You love the sudden hot feeling, the tickling between your legs in anticipation, the need to have him close again.

“That’s not fair, you asshole.” You chuckle, trying your best to read the letter.

Daryl loves the aggression, chuckling too against your skin as he pulls himself lower, just to meet your most sensitive and still covered area. His hands look for the bottom and the zipper of your jeans, pushing them out of you with your underwear lock in his fingers. You try very hard to concentrate on reading, trying to understand the messy words on the paper, but when Daryl buries his face into you without a warning, just to devour you completely, earning a moan form your closed lips, it is impossible to do so.

His hot tongue moves against you, kissing and licking and sucking, sending a vibration with the low growl he makes and that travels through your entire body, so intense that you have to hold onto his long hair to keep your balance, so that your bent legs wouldn't give in with everything he’s giving you.

Your back arches, overwhelmed with the thousands of different sensations that hits you right there. The cold air mixes with the heat emanating from his tongue, as hot as your body starts to be, so hot that you think it is hell itself. The view of the roof is replaced with darkness behind your closed eyes, mouth finally open as the pleasure is starting to make you see stars.

For a second, you think he can make you come with just that, just like the previous times he did it, but now it is because it had been a while since you two made love, your body extremely sensitive to his touch. And right there, your sex is throbbing painfully, waiting impatiently for him to be inside you.

“Daryl, please…”

He can hear the plea in your voice, so full of desire that he can feel it right in his hard member. Daryl licks and tastes one more time, his warm hands holding your hips, pulling you closer to his mouth to get you ready. Daryl loved that feeling every time he ate you out, to know only he could take you so high with only his tongue, listening to those sinful sounds from your precious mouth, but as he rises on his knees, his hands catching the buttons of his shirt to remove it, Daryl and his ego love the view of you.

“Take off yer t-shirt.” He says low, and it is not a warning but a promise. “This ain’t over yet, peach.”

You lick your lip but you do as he says, sitting on the bed before taking the t-shirt out of your body, your bra next, with him loving the view of your naked and soft flesh. But as he finishes the last bottoms and while feeling bold, you lean forward, your hands finding the belt of his pants, mouth close but holding an innocent smile as you undo it.

“Only ya can be hot and cute at the same time, woman.” Daryl growls. “Now lay back and lemme feel what I've been missin’ all this time.”

You lay back down, watching your husband take off his pants and his boxers, like the hottest imagine in the whole world. Daryl is hot, with his broad shoulders, the tattoo in his chest, his strong arms, calloused hands that always touch you softly. And when he is completely naked, he lays on top of you, feeling the beating of your heart in his own body, with you bending your legs at each side of his waist and hips, feeling him pushing himself inside of you.

He is thick, and he fills you completely, reaching places you are dying to feel him, and then, your moans and his grunts are silenced when he kisses you, finally moving. Your hips receive the movement of his, pushing himself even deeper, one hand on your cheek, the other holding himself at the side of your body.

You feel his length beating inside you, your walls squeezing around him, making him growl against your parted lips. The feeling inside you intensifies with the minutes, with the swaying of his body and yours, your hands hugging his back, feeling his muscles contract under your touch.

Daryl rests his forehead against yours, breathing through his parted lips.

“That feels good?” He asks, and you nod, drowned in the sensation to form a word. “Lemme feel ya, peach. I really need ya right now.”

He chokes with his own words, looking at you with eyes full of lust, between the strands of hair that fall over his forehead, but when you think that can’t get any hotter, Daryl brings two of his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them before pressing them against your clit, rubbing the area, hard and fast, causing you to cry his name.

And he fucking loves that. He would gladly drown in your voice calling his name.

The sensations and the sounds are making him mad as he feels close to his climax, pressing himself into you even harder, deeper and faster when he feels your inner walls clenching against him. You feel close too, and it takes you seconds to finally cum letting out a cry, feeling him release inside of you with one long push.

Daryl buries his face in your neck, breathing heavily, moving slowly as you two enjoy the hot feeling leaving your bodies. You stroke his hair for a while, just to give him some comfort.

And after a while, he pulls away to look at you, so close you feel his nose brushing yours, with him smiling at the contact. Daryl strokes your cheek softly, making you smile too. His touch is always soft, it is sincere, just like his love for you.

“I love ya, Mrs. Dixon. Yer the only one for me and it’ll be like that for the rest of ma life.”

After saying that, Daryl presses his lips against yours, and it melts you like honey, so sweet like his love for you. He came back to you to stay for real this time, and as he falls sleep on his side after a while, dressed again, pressing his body against yours, you take the letter which was forgotten next to the pillow.

His handwriting was always messy, and you used to tease him about it, but now, it makes you hold the air inside your body as you start reading.

Ma little angel:

Awake or when I can sleep, I’m always dreamin’ about ya. Sometimes, I dream ‘bout meetin’ ya in the old world. I wish I could have found ya there. Our life together wouldn't have been perfect but I’d have worked hard to give ya all the things ya deserved, I’d have done everythin’ to make ya the happiest woman in the world. I know someone like me couldn’t have offered ya much in that world, fuck, I can’t offer ya much in this one either, but I promised ya I’d protect ya from everythin’ and Imma keep ma word, ‘cause now I can’t live without ya. Ya always were a sweet thing to look at, and even when Carol used to make fun of me when she caught me doin’ it, I couldn’t stop. But even now, when in ma mind I see the ring in yer finger, I still can’t believe ya are really ma wife. I never told ya this, but when ya said yes, I promised God I would never let ya go. And now, ya’re stuck with me forever, ‘cause thanks to ya I started livin’ and not jus’ survivin’. So yeah, ya’re ma life, ya are the peace, the sun, the moon and all the fuckin’ stars in the diamond sky as ya call it.

It was nice to find someone who loves me like ya do, even with ma temper. I love ya, peach, so much, and I’m sorry I don’t say it often. Ya know I’m bad with words, but I’ll try to be better.

Yours, Daryl Dixon.

@fluffy-dixon

[violettwrites]

trust i seek, and i find in you — daryl dixon

a/n: hi guys ! sorry it’s been a little while, i’ve honestly not had much motivation but i managed to get this out for the person that requested ! i think i may have a little writers block, but i’m gonna try and rewatch twd to help me out with my inspo 🫶🏻 i apologise that it’s short, but hey, what can we do !

if you enjoy my writing, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment ! your support always means the world to me 🫶🏻 requests are currently closed, but i will be opening them up soon hopefully !

summary: daryl thinks he isn’t good enough for you because he’s too “old”

requested: @/nuhogom requested; could you do an age gap fic with daryl? reader is well into her/their 20’s though!! i’d love a secret relationship too! maybe if it’s set in twd, it’s because daryl is still kinda insecure etc.

warnings: none ! a bit of angst maybe???

word count: 879

resources: divider by @/adornedwithlight

➵ rules

➵ masterlist

➵ ask box

it was late at hilltop, and the faint hum of crickets mixed with the occasional groan of a walker beyond the walls. inside, everything felt peaceful. you sat in your little trailer, curled beneath a blanket, waiting for daryl. he didn’t stop by every night, much to your dismay, but you could always sense when he would. there was something between you—something electric, fragile, and unspoken, like a current neither of you dared disturb.

a soft knock echoed through the quiet, followed by the slow creak of the door opening. there he was, crossbow slung over his shoulder, eyes a mix of stoic and softened by the dim light of your trailer. his gaze found yours immediately, warm and inviting.

“thought you weren’t comin’,” you said, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as you watched him, your eyes tracing every one of his movements.

“had to finish a run for tara,” he muttered, voice low and gravelly. he didn’t need to explain further—his presence was enough. it always had been. words had never been necessary between the two of you.

you’d been seeing each other for months now, in secret. daryl, being in his forties, knew that people would talk if they found out. they’d whisper, judge, say you were too young for him, too bright for someone as worn as him. he hated the idea of being the one to pull you into those whispers, to tarnish you with their judgments. but at the same time, he couldn’t stay away.

you didn’t care about any of that, though. not in a world like this. what did other people’s opinions matter when survival was all that was left?

“no one’s gonna know,” you whispered, sitting up a bit and placing a hand on his arm. “it’s just us here.”

he hesitated, glancing away for a moment before his eyes settled back on you. “it ain’t right. yer young. people’ll talk, make it worse.”

you could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his need to protect you warred with his desire to be close. but you weren’t a kid anymore. you were capable of making your own decisions, and you had chosen him.

“i don’t care what they think,” you said softly but firmly. “none of that matters. i care about you—that’s all i need.”

daryl sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he shook his head, but his hand found yours. his fingers, rough and calloused from years of surviving, wrapped gently around yours. he pulled you closer, tucking you under his arm as you leaned into him, your head resting against his chest. his other arm came around you, solid and protective, as though he were the only thing standing between you and the chaos of the world outside.

“don’t know why you want someone like me,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you.

you tilted your head to look up at him, his expression clouded with doubt. “i want someone like you because you’re kind, and you care more than you let on. you see me for who i am, not for who people think i should be.”

his brow furrowed slightly, the weight of your words sinking in. it wasn’t often that anyone took the time to look past the walls he kept up, and fewer still bothered to try.

you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “stop worrying about them. it’s just us.”

daryl didn’t reply, but his arms tightened around you, pulling you in until you were practically in his lap. your head rested against his chest, and you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, a sound that brought you more comfort than you ever thought possible.

his fingers slowly combed through your hair as the silence stretched between you, easy and familiar. your eyes drifted closed, feeling the tension seep out of him as his body relaxed against yours. this was a side of him no one else saw—vulnerable, unguarded, and you cherished it, every rare moment of it.

time seemed to blur, the rest of the world fading away as you sat there together. daryl’s hand never stopped moving through your hair, his touch so tender it was hard to believe it came from someone so hardened by life.

“i ain’t good at this,” he mumbled after a while, his voice low and almost apologetic. “don’ know how to do relationships—how to… be what you need.”

you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. “you’re already everything i need, daryl.”

his eyes softened at your words, the usual tension in his features melting away. he leaned in slowly, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your lips. it wasn’t rushed, as though he wanted to savor every second, commit it all to memory.

when you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, breathing him in. “i’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “not unless you want me to.”

he shook his head, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “ain’t ever gonna want that.”

your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, nestling back into his chest, his arms keeping you close, holding onto you like you were his anchor in the storm.

and for now, that was all that mattered.

[radioiaci]

▹@truearchangel

[ x ]

When the stitches do not pull taut, the warmth of blood is felt most prominently beneath the layers of fabric that shield the injury from prying eyes. He knows himself well - he has never been apt at medical attention on himself. It is much easier to treat another; hands that tremor with reminders of the blade that cut deep are not at all helpful tools to sew himself back up.

The holy wound that lances its way across his sternum is pulsing with pain, exacerbated by an altercation with a gaggle of his contracted Sinners in which he'd had to exercise a bit of authority. The Sinners had paid the price, but now, so too was he.

His gait slightly staggered as he makes his way to a well darkened corner of the city just beyond the border of the doomsday district - reminders heavy of the area which he is responsible for removing from the map entirely - to press heavily against a half-ruined wall.

Where he leans, blood smears against the brick to tell tales of where the radio demon has been. From his front, it has coated its way along the expanse of his shirt and even through his coat.

A mess, Alastor chides himself.

He will need to return to the hotel. To his tower. To properly stitch the damned thing back up and hope that it does not again plague him with its incessant sting that reminds him daily of his failure. In the back of his mind, Adam's laughter echoes. And the radio demon swears aloud. He has not the energy nor the ability to slip into the shadow that hovers nervously nearby, eyeing its master with some level of concern. It cannot help any more, so long as Alastor's energy wanes.

"How frustrating," he grouses to no one except himself, strength in his knees leaving him to where he must slide down the expanse of the wall to sit. He will need to rest before he makes any attempt at returning to the hotel's hilltop.

Full of self-admonishments, Alastor sits, hoping that he convalesces before any unfortunate passersby, be they Sinner or hellborn, find him at such an inopportune moment.

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Getting Him Back

Pairing: Daryl Dixon (Alexandria, Pre-Saviors War) x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: You finally get Daryl back after he escapes from Negan.

Warnings: explicit language, established relationship, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, outdoor sex, semi-public sex, sweet sex, soft sex), quite of bit of angst, mentions of murder, mentions of blood and gore, depression, Negan being an asshole

a/n: I've had this idea for a while and wanted to see if I could write it as well as I thought of it. I hope I did good! Let me know if you want a part two where Negan intergates the reader?

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

It had been one week, two days, and five hours since Negan had taken your husband. You remembered the broken look in his blue eyes as the saviors tossed him into then back of the truck, more tears falling down your cheeks as you made eye contact with Daryl. You felt rooted in your spot on the hard ground, the strong smell of blood and bile stinging your nose. You couldn’t look around you, you couldn’t see your dead friends, or the broken faces of your friends. You felt like in the process of taking Daryl, Negan might as well have rammed Lucille through your chest. 

Michonne helped you back to Alexandria, up to her guest room, helping you wash up. You felt empty, your body felt numb, you couldn’t talk, you wanted it to be a horrible nightmare, that you would wake up and Daryl would be wrapped around you. His strong arms keeping you against his chest, making you feel safe like nothing could ever hurt you. You stayed in bed for days till the Saviors arrived at the gate wanting to see what they could take. You were startled when Negan came bursting through the door to your temporary room. You immediately stood up grabbing your knife from its place on the nightstand. 

Your tired eyes met Negan’s hazel ones as amusement filled his face, “Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Dixon. You look like horse shit.” He chuckled as he placed his hands on his hips. 

You avoided his gaze and sat down on the bed, letting your shoulders curl in on you, “Take whatever you want, I don’t care.” You mumbled feeling utterly defeated as you pulled your legs up to your chest. 

He rolled his eyes, “Oh, c’mon. Where’s that little spitfire that almost yanked Fat Joey’s jewels off?” He chuckled and sat next to you, making you flinch. 

“You took my husband. I won’t do anything to harm him.” You said as you flipped your knife in your hand. “I just want him back.” You mumbled as you looked away from Negan. 

He let out a sigh, “Sorry, sweet cheeks. Your boy messed up, he’s mine now, but I’ll tell you what I told him.” He said and you turned to look at him, “As long as he does what I say, no harm will come to you. I won’t fuck up your little home. You’ll be safe.” He said in a serious tone and small tears welled in your eyes and you looked away from him. 

You sniffled softly and wiped your tears away, “T-thanks.” You said in a low and shaky voice. He smirked and patted your shoulder before leaving. As much as you wanted to kill Negan, but as long as he had Daryl, you wouldn’t. You’d just sit quietly hoping that one day, Daryl will come home.

The day Rick decided to fight the saviors and a group of you all made your way to the Hilltop, your hopes were answered. The gate opened to the Hilltop and you all walked in and from behind the door was Daryl. He looked exhausted, skinny, but alive. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes locked with his, your feet moving of their own accord as you ran over to him. He met you in the middle, scooping you up in his arms, your lips meeting his in a passionate and loving kiss. His hands pressed against your back as your thighs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. 

Later that night, you and Daryl sat around a secluded fire near the back wall of Hilltop. You were planted in Daryl’s lap, his strong arms wrapped around your waist. Your fingers intertwined with his, as you laid against his chest, his nose nuzzled in your hair. 

“I missed you.” You whispered into the air as you watched the flames dance. 

He let out a soft sigh and kissed your temple, “Everyday in that damn cell, I dreamed about gettin’ home to ya.” He mumbled against your hair, squeezing your hands in his, like he used to do on runs when you two would split up. 

You turned in his hold to look up at him, you tucked his hair behind his ears, admiring his handsome face. You could see his cheeks darken in the flickering light, “I thought I lost you.” You whispered as small tears escaped your eyes and trailed down your cheeks. 

You saw small tears fill his eyes as he rested his forehead against yours, “Only thing keepin’ me goin’ was you. Wanted to get home to ya.” He whispered, his voice full of emotions as you saw a small tear track down his cheek. 

You wiped it away with your thumb, “M’here now. Not going anywhere.” You whispered to him and he smiled softly and caught your lips in a soft kiss. His hands let go of yours and moved down to grasp your hips softly. You trailed your hands up his chest to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.  

His hands moved down to grasp your ass tight. You let out a surprised gasp as you felt his strong hands slip into the back of your jeans. You moved your hands down to undo his button-up, caressing up and down his bare chest. He quickly undid your jeans slipping them down your thighs to reveal your panties while you undid his jeans and pulled out his hardening cock. You stroked him slowly in your hand as he kissed down your neck, nipping on your pulse point, sucking a bruise into your skin. His hands moved down to slide your panties aside and helped you sink down on his hard cock. You moaned his name as your hips met his, his cock deep in your cunt, the tip kissing your cervix as he bottomed out in you.

You laced your fingers through his hair, pulling him back in for a kiss as you slowly started moving your hips up and down, letting out moans and gasps against his lips. His cock brushed against your sweet spot with every thrust, as his hips bucked up into you, matching your pace while his hands grasped your hips tight. He grunted softly with each thrust, “F-fuck, darlin’. Been too long.” His voice sounded rough and strung out as he pushed you to your orgasm. His thrusts grew faster and harder as you two chased your orgasms.

“M’so close, Dar. Wanna cum with you. Please.” You whined as you felt the coil in your belly tightened as he moved a hand down to circle your clit with his rough fingers. You caught his lips in a deep kiss as you moaned louder, cumming around his cock hard. Your thighs shaking from their place around his hips, and he groaned against your lips as he reached his orgasm, painting your walls white with his spend. You moaned as you felt his warm cum fill you up and your fingers dug into his shoulders as you rode out your orgasm, your walls milking his cock with each pulse of your walls. 

You slumped against him, his cock still deep in you. You rested your forehead against his and you cupped his cheeks softly, giving him a small smile. “I love you, Daryl.” You whispered softly, caressing his cheek softly, tucking a strand of his dark hair behind his ear. 

He gave you a small smile and pecked your nose, making you blush softly. “I love ya too, darlin’.” He mumbled and you nuzzled into his chest, vowing never to let go of his ever again.

[lunajay33]

Other Half🍂

Summary: Negan got your group in the line up and he tries to come at you but Carl refuses, trying to protect you

•Masterlist•

All we wanted to do was get Maggie to hilltop but Negan and the saviours had others plans now here we all were in a line up being terrorized by them, I was sat in between Maggie and Abraham too far from Carl and it scared me not being close to him right now

“Now I gotta kill one of you for all of my men you killed, but which one?” Negan said then he started going around the group swinging the bat in our faces

My heart was beating out of my chest it was almost the only thing I could hear, as Negan stopped infront of Abraham

“Nobody moves, nobody screams, you can cry hell you’re gonna be doing alot of that” the bat came down hard and fast and he didn’t let up he kept going the blood splattering all over me until I was red and covered in blood

He was laughing Negan was actually laughing at what he just did, I was in shock realizing how far he could go, who was next? What if he hurt Carl by mind was racing until I felt a push on my chest

Negan was kneeled infront of me pushing his bat into my chest, I zoned back in trying to pay attention

“What too much blood sweetheart?” He asked laughing

I just looked at him terror coursing through me

“You know your a young little thing, what a terrible thing to experience at so young” he said laughing

“DONT TOUCH HER” I heard Carl yell, his voice filled with anger

“Ooooohoho does little Grimes here have a girl? This your girl son?” Negan asked waving his bat at me again

“Just leave her alone, she’s done nothing wrong” he said looking at me so scared as I looked at him worried that the same thing was gonna happen to him as it did to Abraham

“Oh I won’t touch her, pretty thing like her would be a waste to kill, you can still have your fun with her, go on you can sit with her” he said as he laughed as Carl crawled over holding me to his chest, using his sleeve of his shirt to wipe the blood off my face

“We will be okay, I love you” he whispered to me as I heard his voice tremble

“I love you too Carl”

[darylbae]

hiii! could you write something fluff with daryl and a Latina reader? they are in a established relationship and she always rumble things or talk to herself in her language and daryl really wanna know more about what she saying and also wanna know more her culture but is really shy to ask plss🥺💕

spanish for dummies — daryl dixon 🩰

in which daryl wants to learn more of your language, but he is far too shy to admit it

note: i made it a lil drabble because i don't know a lot of spanish, if i got anything wrong please correct me!

You and Daryl had made it exclusive very recently, so it was all very new to you. But the two of you were so infatuated with one another, that it made everyone sick. He'd always have an arm around you, or coming to find you at random points in the day. People would even see you whispering to each other and laughing. It was all very sweet. You'd been at Hilltop for a few days, helping Maggie with running things day to day, and beginning to build a few things. Of course, Daryl had accompanied you from Alexandria to Hilltop, and promised to stay with you.

“Y/N!” One of the Hilltop residents called out, and you’d turned to spot them waving you over. You had quickly separated from Daryl, who had his arm around your waist as you spoke about potentially making shields. Although he had followed you over.

You’d run over to see the new water system installed. You’d selected a group of people to start making an easier way to get water into the community, and to see the large basins of water finally come to life, you were amazed.

“Es asombrosa,” you whispered, mainly to yourself in bewilderment that the plan you’d made together worked. Things were really starting to come together now, and you couldn’t be happier. “Well done, guys.”

As you’d started to walk off, Daryl had caught up to you and smoothed his hand over his jaw. You’d come to notice it was a nervous tick of his. “What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“Whatever you just said.”

“Oh, es asombrosa? It means it’s amazing. It’s a good thing.” You smiled, only now realising you’d have to translate some things that were natural to you.

Daryl just nodded, still curious about all your little phrases you’d come out with daily. You don’t really notice yourself doing it, but Daryl does.

Staying at Hilltop, you’d made some progress, you’d spent the whole of today tending to the crop just outside the walls. Whilst a small group had gone out on a run, Daryl included.

It wasn’t until you heard the roar of a motorcycle that you’d looked up to see your gorgeous man riding in, slowing as he approached the road next to you. His tough, brooding exterior shortly disappeared with a sweet smile, and you couldn’t help but throw your arms around his neck.

“Te extraño,” you sighed into his ear, breathing in the smell of his musk. You quickly translated for him, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart. Now let me take you home.” He cooed, taking your hand and helping you onto the back of his bike. To ride the extra few meters back into the gates.

That night, you and Daryl had settled into one of the rooms Maggie had allowed you to stay in whilst you were here. You’d crawled into bed long before Daryl did, as he was sitting through his backpack secretly.

“What you hiding in there?” You questioned, putting your book down and folding your arms. It was a playful prod but you weren’t expecting him to be so secretive.

“Nothin’.”

You huffed. “Come on, Dar. No secrets.”

“Just somethin’ I found today.” He admitted, throwing his backpack next to the bed.

“Ooh. Is it condoms?”

“No.”

“A stuffed animal?”

“Absolutely not.”

“A Halloween costume?”

“What? No.”

“Come on! Tell me!”

Daryl sat down next to you, an arm around you as you settled on his chest. “Fine”.

He reached into the backpack and pulled out a small book, and turned the title page towards you. Spanish for Dummies.

“Stop! Really? I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” You squealed, pressing kisses all over his cheek and jaw.

“Just wanna understand ya more.” Daryl reasoned, brushing hair from your face, “so ya don’t have to translate everythin’.”

[cultofdixon]

Stress is a silent killer

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Don’t get me wrong, mothers are strong motherfuckers. But that doesn’t mean you can abuse an expecting mother’s abilities. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Pre-Term Labor Anxieties / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

Daryl silently returns his home he shares with Y/N who was currently seated in the living room wide awake. She was decked out to go outside the walls and search for him after the news but thankfully he came back in time before she risked herself at the hour it was.

“I’m sorry”

Y/N didn’t say anything, all she did was let the tears that build up roll off her cheeks.

“I’m sorry I walked away when yea first told me” His voice broke as he brought himself to kneel in front of her resting his hands on her thighs watching her tearful expression meet his gaze.

“I’m scared, Dar…”

“I know, me too. Cuz I want this. I want this with yea and I’m afraid of losing you…like Lori…or like…the others. I can’t lose yea to anythin’ or anyone.”

“You can’t…you can’t walk out like the way you did” She choked out through her sobbing as Daryl brought his hands onto her cheeks wiping away them while they fell. “Please…if you do that again, I’m only going to think the worse possible things”

“I’m stayin’ right here, sunshine. I’m never leaving again.” Daryl pushed himself forward and wrapping his arms around her as she did the same gripping onto his vest. “I’m never leaving you and this baby, I promise”

~

7 1/2 months later…

Another cold spring morning comes through causing the somewhat irritable not-a-morning person Y/N to bring herself to sit up the best she could given her “natural” circumference was different compared to the first and second trimester.

“Did you leave the window open?” She tiredly asks her husband who had sat up when she did, given the closer they get to 9 months the more he’ll be up and at it for anything.

“It was stuffy last night, yea asked me too” Daryl yawns stretching out his back hearing his partner hiss when she heard the occasional stretch out crack. “I’m good”

“Working on the wall repair does you no good…and I think I just forgot I asked you to open it” Y/N frowns bringing herself to the edge of the bed causing Daryl to get up in his shirtless glory about to close the window. “What are you doing?”

“I told yea you don’t have to get up and close it”

“I gotta get up and pee cuz a certain someone is stepping on my bladder.”

“So is that a no on me closing it for yea, love?”

“Can you please close it and help me stand up?” Y/N gave him a tired smile as he did exactly what was asked and while Daryl helped her up she couldn’t help but grab his face to bring him to her level to kiss him before separating to do what she needed.

“Are you sure you don’t need me or want me this morning? Rick completely understands why I can stay here” Daryl started to remind Y/N about the run he was asked to go on that involved stopping at the Hilltop to drop off supplies and go pick up more from the Kingdom.

“You pawned it off to somebody for the past two weeks. I’m not going to go into labor the second you leave. I’m not 8 months yet”

“Pre-term shit. You were put on bedrest during the second tri—whatever it’s called because your stress wasn’t helpin’” Daryl states slipping off his sweats to put jeans on when Y/N stepped out of the bathroom. “It’s easy for yea to stress out and back in the prison you passed out once cuz of it. Now you’re pregnant and Siddiq said it could cause more harm than good”

“Are you trying to stress me out now?”

“No, I’m just telling—-“

“It’s only for half the day. Both Maggie and Ezekiel know who you have to come back home to, they won’t hold you up and we also know Carol will shut Ezekiel up if he does start another endless conversation with you. You’ll be back before nightfall and I’ll be here waiting for my husband to come back”

The archer only gave her a worried expression because of how calm she was being, since a month ago she’d scream at him for just leaving the house. He brought himself over kissing her lovingly and holding her for as long as she let him, which could be hours and he’ll not be able to go anymore. But Y/N knew this trick.

“You seriously walking me out to make sure I actually go?” Daryl smiles walking his bike with his pregnant wife on the other side of such still wearing her sweats and one of his shirts.

“Did you forget about the morning and evening walks we do?”

“Nah I did not. Which reminds me to tell yea to wait for me for the night one. Take it easy walking back home and stay away from the new infusions”

Y/N whistled for Daryl to stop given she can’t maneuver fast enough to grab his arm. “Stay away from the new infusions?”

“Rick let in more ex-saviors to help around here. They are staying in the apartment looking houses” Daryl parked his bike a moment bringing himself to rest his hands on her belly. “Two of them are annoying shit stains of humanity. I don’t know the other one’s name but one of’em is Bryan and they’d much rather pawn their work off to somebody else”

“Daryl. I doubt they’d make a pregnant woman do shit”

“Well. I told Aaron to check on yea if he sees you doing anything sketchy”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Rick is at Oceanside, Michonne is watching a sick Judith, and the others are working on the bridge repair. You won’t let me stay to make sure you don’t over exert yourself. Somebody’s gotta check on yea and since he’s takin’ care of a baby girl at the moment? He’s more than happy to check up on you when Gracie is napping”

“You really have everything planned. Even have a radio?” Y/N smiles crossing her arms as he took out said device to show her resulting in a playful eye roll. “I’ll do my best, my love. But I’ve never seen those individuals before…you can’t blame me if something happened”

“Yeah, but I sure as hell can kill a man if he harms my wife and baby” Daryl states, sneaking in a kiss before getting his bike back up and heading toward the gates.

“I promise nothing will happen, Dar”

What was meant to be an easy day, turned into a weird one.

When the gates closed, Y/N held her belly for a moment feeling the shifting baby inside her make it a bit difficult to go immediately back to her home. She decided to take a longer walk around Alexandria, stopping occasionally to talk to her friends and see what they were up to improve their community. Then on her way back there were two Alexandrians carrying a few boxes to the pantry and infirmary. Both looked at her with curious expressions…

“Yo!”

Y/N ignored it at first until she flinched to the sound of the box dropping beside her.

“You’re Y/N right? The other Dixon in this place”

“Yes…? And you are?” She frowns, not liking the feeling the atmosphere gave when the individual didn’t share his name right away.

“I’m new here. Do you mind helping us with something?”

“Uhm I’m not exactly supposed to be…lifting anything heavy” Y/N gestures a bit on the obvious side about her pregnant belly as they both still gave stone cold stares.

“We’ll carry it to the pantry and infirmary. Just could use somebody to put it away while we bring the rest”

“Is Siddiq not her—-“

“Seriously, Dixon. You’re just pregnant not incompetent” one of them stated only for Y/N’s expression to go south as she supported her belly telling them that she’ll meet them in the pantry first to unload the boxes.

Once she stepped far enough, one of them couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips.

“Cant believe that worked”

“Can it Bryan. We still gotta bring the boxes over then we can go fuck off for the rest of the day” The other scoffs picking up and the box carrying it to where it needed to be.

It had been a couple hours of putting supplies away in their perspective areas, thankfully Y/N has worked with Siddiq before so she knows where he likes everything to be. The doctor just didn’t expect to come back from checking on the little ones of Alexandria after lunch time to find Y/N standing on a stool putting away spare gauze in a tub that Siddiq put them in.

“Are you crazy?” Siddiq frowns watching Y/N stumble a bit unexpected as he quickly drop his medical bag to help his friend off the stool. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you in here?”

“Because I have to be useful!”

“Y/N what the hell do you mean?!” Siddiq frowns watching the discomfort grow on her face along with the tears forming. “Okay, come on. Sit down and tell me what happened” he made her sit on the gurney sitting with her.

“My husband—-“

“Did Daryl get hurt?!”

“No! He warned me about some slackers and I just. I didn’t think I was this stupid enough to fall for their shit” Y/N frowns wiping away her tears before wincing and holding her belly instantly. Siddiq pulled away to get the portable machine helping her lay down onto the gurney adjusting it for her to sit up. “It was just one damn conversation and I felt like I was being useless. We won that stupid fucking war. Lost a lot of people. Then this happened and it’s the best thing but all my hormones are all over the place—-“

“And that’s normal! It’s normal for hormones to take over control with all your other emotions.” Siddiq carefully rolled her shirt up to apply a bit of the gel and gently place the wand to check on the heartbeat. “Can you tell me your pain level? And I’m talking from the moment you’ve felt uncomfortable”

“A six…”

“Are you lying?” Siddiq stated watching the tears build up more. “Y/N how long have you been working today?”

“About an hour after Daryl left”

The look on Siddiq’s face only grew even more worried for his friend as he cleaned her up and before she even tried to get up, he carefully helped her back down grabbing a blanket to cover her.

“Siddiq—-“

“You’re having contractions and I don’t want you to force this baby out from your stress because it’s too early and while I think we can…handle that intense situation…I don’t want you to lose this baby if it goes south.” Siddiq frowns covering her more in the blanket and putting the gurney in the trendelenburg position to have gravity help slow the contractions. Before he pulled away to grab a few things that will help, Y/N grabbed his arm. “You stay here and I’ll get someone to radio Daryl to come back a bit early”

“You think he’ll…uh…y-you think he’ll be mad at me?” Her voice broke as Siddiq took her hand into both of his shaking his head.

“No. But when he finds out about who made you overwork, they aren’t going to see the next day”

By the time Siddiq got Daryl on the line, he was already making his way back to Alexandria and when he heard about his wife he was speeding even faster. Daryl parked in front of the infirmary, dropping his bike without another thought as he enters the building bringing himself to her side resting his hand on her belly.

“How are yea feeling?”

“I’m sorry—-“

“Love, please—-“

“I’m really sorry” Y/N broke down in a sob making her husband out of instinct gently wipe away her tears. “I’m really sorry I didn’t take it easy—“

“Y/N. I’m serious when I say this. You don’t have to apologize.” Daryl frowns rubbing circles on her belly watching her bring her hand over his. “Did Siddiq tell yea how long you’d have to be—-“

“She can go back down.” Siddiq interrupts the two coming down from his flat above the infirmary with a filled canteen for Y/N. “You can take her back to your home to be more comfortable in her bed but again, bed rest—-“

“Fuck” Y/N sobbed hating it already and she’s not in her own bed.

“Just for a week until your stress levels and blood pressure go down. Thankfully trendelenburg worked with the contractions but don’t want you, again, to overwork yourself” Siddiq set the canteen down to help Daryl get Y/N on her feet before giving her the filled bottle. “Don’t let her leave the house, then maybe nobody would abuse your hormones” he stated letting them be to finish what Y/N started before he made her rest.

After getting Y/N back home and in their bed, Daryl stuck by her side thinking of the words Siddiq had said before they left. But he wasn’t going to address it when she was still experiencing a bit of discomfort.

“You want another pillow?”

“Then what are you going to sleep on?”

“A mattress? I don’t need a pillow, just need my woman comfortable while she’s a human incubator” He jokes getting a short lived laugh out of her as he moves the extra blankets and his pillows to support her back and belly. When she first started getting uncomfortable, he tried looking for one of those pregnancy pillows that Carol had told him about but it was a lot of work and he didn’t want to leave her at all. Like he promised and is semi-regretting given he left to take care of business and some assholes were pushing her limits with emotional abuse.

“Daryl…?” Y/N tiredly calls out for him as he returns with her canteen filled for a fourth time since being home as he brought himself to sit on the edge of the bed setting her bottle on the nightstand.

“Yes, sunshine?”

“You still love me right…?” Y/N pouted only for Daryl to scoff at such a ridiculous question, leaning over to shower her in kisses making her bring her arms around his neck to keep him close for the moment. “Dar…”

“I’ll always love you. Even when yea risk yourself. But, imma stick by yea for the rest of this.” Daryl states. “No more tellin’ me I gotta go cuz I promised somebody. Someone else will get the work done, doesn’t have to be me and definitely doesn’t have to be you”

“Can you hold me tonight?”

“As long as you don’t kick me out of the bed when it got too hot” he laughs softly, bringing his lips to hers for a few short soft kisses before pulling away to get into comfortable clothing to sleep in and hold her.

The second Y/N fell asleep and was in deep enough sleep for the archer to slip away to check on a familiar hiding spot in Alexandria. Said hiding spot would have those who didn’t want others to notice they were smoking. Knowing damn well he’ll find the right men that have been bothering his partner.

“Ayo the other Dixon has retur—-“ Bryan immediately shut up when Daryl grabbed him by the collar forcing him against the walls of the community.

“You talk to my wife today? Mess with her and had your buddy over here help?”

“Dude I have no idea—-“

“Don’t lie. Don’t even try, or I will fucking end you right here and now” Daryl hissed shoving him harshly against the wall letting go of his shirt. He quickly turned to his buddy who put out his cigarette before holding his hands up defensively. “If I see you and or this son of a bitch near my wife or even hear about it, I’ll feed you both to the walkers after I’ve knocked the living shit out of you both. And don’t yea worry…I’ve got friends to let me know if yea fuck with the love of my life and soon to be mother of my child” and with that he took his leave letting the two regret their decisions and contemplate being moved to a different community to avoid the harsher Dixon. But even then, he’d tear them apart anywhere.

Y/N shifted slightly when the bed moved behind her, she relaxed instantly feeling her husband bring his arm around her pulling her into him.

“Where’d you go?”

“Got yea more water, and heard somethin’ outside”

“Another possum?”

“A pest that’s for sure”

“Mmm…” Y/N snuggles into his embrace getting comfortable as Daryl kissed her temple. “Nothing you can’t handle right?”

Right.

[spanktony]

REASSURE ME - rosita espinosa

summary: when maggie gets to touchy, you make sure you reassure your girlfriend in the best way possible.

words: 1k+

warnings: 18+, g!p reader, smut, oral, fingering, p in v, slightly jealous rosita

notes: took too long to post this sorry guys 😢

navigation. request.

"Where are you going?" Rosita asks, watching you put your belt on. "Maggie's been begging me to help her fix our crops," you reply, adjusting the buckle. "It's like she doesn't understand she left Hilltop to relax and get away from work."

Rosita chuckles, shaking her head. "Well, you've always been the reliable one when it comes to lending a hand. Just make sure you don't overexert yourself, we don't want you burning out like last time."

She gives you a knowing look, remembering the time you pushed yourself too hard and ended up sick for a week.

You hold up your hands in surrender, "Of course, my love." You reassure Rosita, kissing her on the forehead. "I'll be back home in an hour."

Although an hour and a half passes, you're not home. Rosita decides to leave the house and check up on you and Maggie, with water in her hand, worried about your well-being.

She hopes that you haven't overexert yourself again and that everything is okay.

Only to find you both laughing and enjoying each other's company. Rosita can't help but feel a pang of jealousy, wondering if you prioritize Maggie's company over hers.

Maggie squeezes your bicep, and you lift up your shirt, revealing your toned abs and jokingly flexing.

Rosita's jealousy raises as she watching the stupid smile on your face due to Maggie's reaction. She tries her best to hide her emotions, but deep down, she feels betrayed and insecure.

She wonders if there is something more than just friendship between you and Maggie, like lingering feelings that have yet to be explored.

Rosita walks up to you, and Maggie walks away to grab a nearby bucket. "Hey, love." You smile, wrapping your arm around Rosita's waist. "What's on your mind?"

Rosita hesitates for a moment but then takes a deep breath before speaking up. "I didn't know showing off your body was part of fixing crops."

She glances over at Maggie, who is now bending over to pick up the bucket to fill it with water. "It just seems like you're more interested in impressing her than actually helping out."

Your eyebrows furrow, and you release your grip on Rosita's waist. "I...I..." You let out a chuckle, a bit surprised by Rosita's comment, and lost for words.

Rosita rolls her eyes, slapping the water bottle against your chest. "Just forget it."

You take a step back, watching your girlfriend walk away with a slight frown on your face.

Hours pass, and Rosita is awoken by the bathroom door creaking open. She groggily sits up in bed, seeing you get dressed in your boxers and sports bra in the dimly lit room.

You crawl toward her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. As much as she tries to fight it, she can't help but melt into your touch.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to upset you," you whisper softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Can I make it up to you?"

Rosita looks into your eyes, her frown slowly fading away. You place a kiss on her lips, feeling her reciprocate it with a soft sigh. Without breaking the kiss, you push away the covers, resting between her legs and deepening the kiss with a small groan.

Your hands explore every inch of her body, tracing the curves and contours that you have come to know so well. The curves that you love due to the fact they mold perfectly in your palms.

Rosita had a habit of just wearing one of your oversized t-shirts to bed, and tonight was no exception. You lift up your shirt, revealing her bare skin underneath, causing a shiver of anticipation to run through both of you.

The cool air kisses her exposed flesh, heightening the sensations of hands and their exploration.

Parting your lips from the kiss, you lean in to whisper in her ear, "You look absolutely irresistible in my shirt."

Her cheeks flush with a rosy hue as she gazes up at you, a playful spark dancing in her eyes. The soft fabric clings to her curves, accentuating her every contour and making her even more alluring in your eyes.

You kiss her stomach, tracing a path with your lips that sends shivers down her spine. She arches her back, a soft moan escaping her lips, as your kisses continue lower.

Her breath quickens and her hands grip the sheets, her body yearning for more of your touch. You hold apart her thighs, teasing her ever so slightly before finally giving in to her desires.

Rosita lets out a low whine, your tongue dancing sensually against her most sensitive spot. The taste of her arousal drives you wild, fueling your want to please her even more.

You continue to explore her with your mouth, your fingers join in the dance, and if you weren't so focused on the sight in front of you, you'd see your girlfriend trying her best to stay quiet.

Her lip tucked between her teeth, head thrown back, and knuckles white.

Rosita's hips start to move involuntarily, grinding against your face as she loses herself in the waves of pleasure crashing over her.

"Baby, fuck!" she gasps, gripping your hair tightly as her climax approaches. Her walls tighten around your fingers, and her moans become uncontrollable, "I'm cumming.."

She lets out a primal scream, her body shaking in euphoria, and you revel in the satisfaction of knowing you've brought her to the brink and beyond.

Rosita lets out another gasping moan, feeling you sink into her without warning. Her eyes widen in surprise, but her body arches with pleasure appreciating the pleasant surprise.

"You're so pretty, baby. How could I ever want someone else?" You whisper, your thumb tracing delicate circles on her flushed cheek. Rosita's breath hitches as she locks eyes with you, feeling close to the edge already.

Her lips part, but no words escape, only small whines of pleasure as she desperately tries to hold back her release. You lean in closer, your voice husky with desire. "Let go, Rosita," you murmur, your words dripping with need.

The sound of her whimpering only grow louder as she finally surrenders herself to you and the amazing pleasure you bring her and only her.

[sinsandsweetness]

BIRTHDAY BOY

(Rick & Daryl x fem!reader)

warnings- 18+ content. minors do not interact please n' thank u, smut, double penetration, FMM threesome, oral sex, fingering, anal, cream pies... i think that's it. (no Rick x Daryl, just them sharing you) 2k word count.

notes- inspired by @gxtitobxby 's 'Rickyl bday sex' blurb. enjoy!

You sat at the end of the dinner table, listening to the sound of silverware scraping on the porcelain plates. Your bare feet underneath, sneaking over to the boots of both men sitting across you. Earning a tiny smile that pulled at Rick's lips, and a quick glance from Daryl. 

"Is it ok? I didn’t know if you liked vanilla or chocolate so I was worried it was maybe too bland-" you put your fork down. The taste of the vanilla buttercream and strawberries still coating your tastebuds. 

"It’s really good, baby. Nice and sweet." Rick got up and grabbed the empty plates, brushing you on his way to the kitchen. "Just like you." He leaned down to plant a sweet kiss on the top of your head. You beamed at Daryl, awaiting his own response. Considering that the cake was for his birthday. 

" 's good," he said, shovelling the last bite in his mouth. Eyes shifting back up as your feet climbed higher, toes tickling at the denim. Trying to tease him, make him smile… get any reaction really. Your smile dropped at his continued lack of interest. 

From the kitchen, Rick called you over. You grabbed Daryl’s empty plate and maintained eye contact as you dipped your pinky in the icing left on the plate, sucking it clean as you walked over to Rick. 

"He’s just tired, baby. Why don’t you go get your pjs on n’ we’ll watch a movie or somethin'." Rick told you with a gentle hand on your elbow. Just as aware of the unimpressed energy coming from the man at the table. 

They had just gotten back from a pretty long run the night before. And apparently things didn’t go quite as planned. They ran into another group and were out two days longer than intended. You didn’t ask for details, but the blood on their clothes was enough to assume the worst. 

You could hear them talking in the kitchen as you climbed up the plush carpet stairs, not making out any real words, just the gravelly sound of their voices. 

In the bedroom, you stood in front of the mirror, a little disappointed to be changing out of the pretty sundress you put on. You knew that Daryl really liked it. That was the whole reason you’d picked it out. You spent all morning getting ready, curling your hair and securing half of it up with a silky pink ribbon. You got yourself all dolled up for him.

Just as you were rooting around the drawer of Rick and Daryl’s old tee shirts, kindly donated to you for sleep and loungewear, you heard the door creak open and through the mirror you could see Daryl. He came up behind you, put his hands on your waist and nestled his face into the crook of your neck. He breathed in and left a couple sweet little kisses. 

"I really did like the cake," he started, turning you around to look at him, your butt pressed up against the dresser. "Did you pick those strawberries yourself?" He asked. 

You nodded with a smile, bringing your hands up to the back of his neck. "I practically had to fight Carol off for em'."You admitted. 

Amusement flashed through his face. You figured Rick must have told him to quit being so moody. To give you even the littlest bit of praise for your hard work. With the lunchtime birthday party earlier in the day, and the cake you baked from scratch. You hesitantly pressed your mouth against his. 

"I liked the present too." He mumbled against your lips. His hands trailed up your dress, clearly recognizing it from the last time you wore it. You’d gotten him a switchblade. His other one broke and you happened to find one really similar at Hilltop. You’d traded a whole basket of food for it. 

"There is one more present you know…" You told him, hands slowly making their way to his belt. His tongue darting out to lick his lips as you unbuckled him. Sinking down to your knees in front of him, and kissing his hard on through his boxers. The contact making his cock twitch. 

"Can I give you my other present now?" You asked innocently, looking up at him through long lashes. Painted fingernails tickling at the waist band as his hands went right to your hair. 

"Go right ahead, princess," his head tipped back to the ceiling as you pulled down his boxers and eagerly licked all the way up his shaft, getting him all wet with your spit. When he’d had enough of your teasing, he put pressure on your head and forced you to take all of him. Not that you minded. A groan left both of you at the same time when the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. You bobbed your head up and down to whatever pace he wanted, controlling you with the grip on your scalp. Messing up your ribbon in the process.  

You could hear Rick enter the room, though you didn’t stop looking up at Daryl. Focusing solely on the man in front of you. The one who had never even gotten a real birthday. And when he’d told you that months ago, you decided to do everything you possibly could, to make up for it. 

The springs in the mattress squeaked, and you figured Rick was making himself comfortable. Lying back to watch the show. Daryl glanced over at him, already breathing heavy above you. 

They shared a look that could only mean one thing, and before you knew it you were being pulled up by your hair and shoved towards the bed, stumbling forward and hitting the mattress with your knees. Looking back at Daryl who gave you a little nod. And then down at Rick, with his one leg bent and splayed open, and his own hand palming at his hard on. 

"You think I can share your present, baby? Would that be ok with you?" Daryl asked from behind you, tugging up your dress and pressing himself against your lacy panties. Hands rubbing up and down your sides.

"Anything for the birthday boy. Ain't that right, sweetie?" Rick interrupted, answering for you. As if it wasn’t in his own best interest that he shared. 

"Uhuh. Anything," you agreed and turned your head to catch Daryl’s lips, but he only kissed you for a second. 

"Good. Now let’s get these panties off." He pushed you onto the bed and your eyes got wide at his demand. Rick smiled at your reaction. You did as you were told, and got on all fours in front of him, all while stripping your panties down to your knees. 

Rick brought his hand up to your face, thumb pressing against your bottom lip. A glint in his eyes as you sucked on his thumb, dragging your teeth on the calloused pad. 

Behind you, Daryl snagged the delicate lace around your knees and ripped them all the way off, hands coming up to knead at your ass. A sharp smack filling the air before you even registered the stinging skin. 

"Ow," you whined out loud at the third smack. Earning a little scowl from the man in front of you. 

"It’s his day, sweetheart. Gotta give him whatever he wants." 

You nodded in agreement and started at Rick's pants. Daryl toying with your entrance from behind. Dipping down and licking a stripe up your slit from behind. Then moving to bite hard marks into your ass cheeks. You were trying not to groan too much at the pain. Rick was right. You weren’t allowed to complain. This wasn’t about you, it was about Daryl. 

"How do you want her?" Rick asked him, over your shoulder. Daryl thought for a moment before deciding on what he wanted. Gently flipping you over so you were essentially sitting in Rick's lap. Rick held your hips up so that his thick cock pressed right between your cheeks. 

Daryl grabbed your knees and spread them, situating himself right in front of you, his own cock rubbing against your clit. The whole situation made your pussy throb. You loved being sandwiched between them. It was your absolute fucking favourite. And you knew for a fact, they felt the same way. 

"You gonna let us fill you up, baby?" Daryl asked, squeezing your breast over your dress. Rick pulling you down and grinding your ass down onto him. 

"Anything you want." You mutter, reminding him of your present. Resting your head back on Rick's shoulder, to allow Daryl better access to your chest and neck. He pulled at the string of your dress untying it and exposing your breasts. He dipped down to nip at your skin. Finally pulling the dress over your head to allow him access at whatever he wanted. When his teeth caught on your nipple, you let out a little cry. Rick's lips brushed your ear while he told you how good of a girl you were being, giving Daryl exactly what he wants. That you are all he wants. All they want. And most importantly, that you’re all theirs. 

Both you and Rick could feel your wetness drip down your inner thigh. Using that discovery to his advantage, Rick started rocking you against him until his cock was all slick with your arousal. He lined himself up, and pressed against your asshole. You couldn’t help but gasp a little at the intrusion, even though you knew it was coming. They just couldn’t resist the chance to fill you right up. 

You slowly sunk down onto Rick, the familiar burn and stretch of the muscle making you groan. 

"You’re turn, Daryl." Rick told his friend as soon as your ass cheeks were flush with his thighs. Completely filled with every glorious inch. 

Daryl dipped his fingers in the pool of wetness that was dripping from your cunt, rubbing it around and then dragging his own dick through it. You tried your best to relax as he aligned with your entrance and pushed. 

"Ah! Mphmm." You moaned right into Daryl’s neck. Grasping at his shoulders and clawing down his back. Fuck, you were full. It hurt. Every time it happened, it was definitely painful for the first little bit. But quickly they found a rhythm, with Rick fucking you from below and Daryl thrusting nice and slow as he pressed messy, wet kisses to your mouth. Within a few minutes, they turned you into a babbling mess with your sweet spot stimulated from every possible angle. You were trying to tell Daryl how good he makes you feel. How pretty he is and how sexy his arms and chest are. How big his dick felt inside of you. But a soon as he was consistently hitting your cervix, you started to forget the English language and decided to stick your tongue down his throat instead. Rick's hands dug into your hips harder than you knew possible. There would be fingerprints bruised into your skin by tomorrow. Daryl’s hands held the backs of your thighs, opening you up as much as he could. Looking down once in a while at the sight of you being split right open. You could feel him twitch inside of you. You could tell he was close. The tightness and pressure getting the best of all three of you. 

"I’m- I-" you couldn’t even finish your sentence, as both men picked up their pace the second they heard your whining confession. Fucking you into adorable little moans, sobs and convulsions. A flood of heat erupting from your core, and shortly after, the feeling of both men’s hips stuttering. Emptying themselves into you. Their cum dribbling out of you as they pulled out gently. And you whining quietly at the new empty feeling. The men quickly maneuvering you onto the mattress so they could watch their contents seep out of both of your holes. They each picked a leg and started to kiss and suck little hickeys on them. Daryl’s fingers came up to drag through their seed, rubbing it all over your clit. You moaned out as he pressed two digits in to your pussy, the sound of all your cum mixing together, and squelching made you tighten around his digits. The men stayed between your legs and gave you two more orgasms. Switching off where one would work with their fingers and the other would kiss you all hot and messy. Molding you into the desperate little mess you usually were.

They only gave you a break while the three of you showered, Rick kissing the water droplets off your shoulder as you massaged some green apple scented shampoo into Daryl’s dark locks. Steam and giggles filling the master bathroom as you all washed up. 

"You still wanna watch a movie?" Rick asked while pulling on some sweatpants. Daryl rubbed a towel on his hair as you watched the two get dressed, cross legged on the bed in your cotton boy shorts and Daryl’s favorite shirt. 

"We could…" he said with a curious hesitation, "Or… we could make one...?" He suggested, with the smallest hint of shyness in his voice. He was testing the waters. Seeing how much he could he get away with today. Rick let out a dry laugh at your wide eyed gulp. Sympathizing with your poor body. Already sore and covered in love bites. But all three of you knew that no matter what, you weren’t gonna say no to the birthday boy.

(continued here)

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,692 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: War with the Saviors, specifically TWD S8 E13 after the battle at Hilltop Warnings: fear and anxiety, language, angst alert! Summary: You took an arrow to the shoulder during the battle at Hilltop and when the injured are sickened and turn, Daryl realizes his worst fear is going to come to pass.

“What the hell happened!?” Daryl spat, looking around at the now still corpses in the main entryway.

“I dunno,” Rick growled, spinning. “Maybe walkers got in?”

“Maybe during the fight,” Morgan echoed.

Daryl scrutinized the bodies. “These—these are all our own people though…”

Suddenly, there was a scream from upstairs and they raced up to find Carol standing over Tobin’s now silent body, blood dripping from the end of her knife.

“Are ya alrigh’?” Daryl asked, surveying the scene. Rick and Maggie stepped in beside him.

“Yeah,” gasped Carol. Her eyes were fixed on Tobin’s body. “He—he wasn’t bit. But he turned.”

They all exchanged tense and confused glances until Rick spoke. “Negan’s bat… when I was out there with him, it was covered in walker blood. I just thought he’d crossed some but… maybe…”

“They have us workin’ for them again,” Maggie said. “Killin’ our own.”

“Poisoned weapons with walker blood?” Carol said. “It’s some sick biological warfare.” Her eyes drifted back down to Tobin’s pale body on the floor and her heart ached.

Daryl didn’t say another word and abruptly left the room, his boot steps receding rapidly down the hall.

“Daryl?” Carol called after him, moving to the doorway.

Rick hung his head and passed a hand over his eyes. Maggie put a hand on Carol’s shoulder. “It’s—” Her throat was tight and she had to clear it before she could get more out. “It’s Y/N,” she said quietly. “She took an arrow in the back of her shoulder.”

Carol’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, God…” Her wide eyes met Maggie’s and stung with tears.

Rick rubbed a hand over his face and paced a tight circle. “And Tara too. And who knows,” he kicked out at the nearby dresser, “how many others.” He fell to cursing Negan, though he knew it wouldn’t help.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl lingered at the closed door for a long moment, staring at the wood, his hand moving to grip the door knob a couple times before falling down to his side. Finally, he grasped it and turned, pushing into the room.

You were asleep in the bed and Enid was sitting beside you. At the expression on her face, his stomach dropped through the floor. She looked worried, and had apparently been studying you. She shot up to her feet as Daryl softly closed the door behind him and stood there looking grim.

“What was all that shouting?” Enid asked.

Daryl gulped, his eyes fixed on you in the bed. “How is she?”

Enid hesitated and then returned to your side. She shook her head. “Her wound wasn’t life-threatening. But—”

“But what?” Daryl urged her to go on.

Enid looked down at your face again. “She looks pale and—I don’t know. Her breathing changed.” She glanced back up at Daryl, her brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”

Daryl hesitated for one moment and then walked over to your bedside and scrutinized your face. You indeed looked ashen, and there were small beads of sweat starting to form near your hairline. His stomach churned. He met Enid’s questioning gaze and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, trying to gain control of the wild emotions threatening to crush him at that moment. “We think The Saviors did somethin’ to their weapons. Ev’rybody that got wounded last night turned.”

Enid’s eyes went back to you asleep in the bed. “No,” she breathed with horror. “Oh my God.”

Daryl nodded, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough that the tang of copper filled his mouth. “Yeah…” He cleared his throat and did his best to appear steadfast. “Ya should go check on Tara.” His eyes strayed back to you again. “I’ve got this…”

Enid nodded, and with one final look at you and one anxious glance at Daryl, she quietly left the room.

Daryl stood at the end of the bed for a moment, watching the subtle rising and falling of the blanket over your chest. He thought it did seem a bit shallow. He slowly wandered over to the bedside and drew the chair closer, sinking down on it heavily and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of his face. His brow tensed. The rising panic was returning. Your hand was lying on top of the quilt and his eyes traced the graceful curve of your fingers.

Part of him wanted to wake you, to see your eyes open and hopefully, clear. But another part of him knew he should let you sleep while you could.

It was short-lived.

Your breathing became shallower and more rapid and the clamminess of your skin increased. You stirred beneath the blanket and pushed it off, your eyes opening and a grimace passing over your face as you stared up at the ceiling.

Daryl leaned forward and you turned when you noticed him beside you, managing a tired smile. “Daryl,” you said softly, looking up at him. The corners of your eyes still crinkled even though the smile was a bit weak.

He chewed on his bottom lip. His anxiety was plain. Deep furrows were evident between his brows.

It didn’t take you long to remark on your condition on your own. You lifted a hand to wipe at the sweat on your forehead and then a shiver ran through you. He saw it clearly and tugged the blanket back up over you. “I’m sick,” you said. It was almost a question and then your eyes found his again. He saw mild confusion in them. “Daryl,” you said again. He looked so grim standing beside you. He held your eyes for only a brief moment before he felt the bubble of emotion rising up his throat and threatening to burst and he had to squeeze them shut. “What’s happened?” you asked. You reached for his hand, which was dangling at his side, and his eyes shot open again and looked at your fingertips touching his softly. He took your hand in his gently and warmed your fingers. Then his blue eyes found your ashen face again.

He felt like someone had rammed an icy blade up between his lungs and into his heart. He fought with emotion again and struggled to clear his throat enough to speak. Your eyes flickered between his, worried and puzzled. He opened his mouth to speak but then ducked his head one more time, passing his free hand over his eyes and drawing in a shaky breath. “They—the Saviors,” he started, his voice a mere whisper, “they did somethin’ to their weapons.” He swallowed down the tightness in his chest with great effort. “Ev’rybody who got hurt in the fight is either sick or—or already turned.” He waited for your reaction and forgot to breathe.

Understanding washed over your face and your expression fell, but you simply nodded. You seemed to shrink away into some depths within your eyes and Daryl was afraid he wouldn’t be able to reach you again. He fell into the seat at your bedside again and squeezed your hand. What could he say? There was nothing to say. No words would help at a time like this. You were going to die. It was that simple. And nothing he could say would fix it or make it any better. Your name caught in his throat and you looked over at him again. “I—‘m so sorry,” he said. His voice broke and the sound of it cut both of you like a scalpel. You were both wounded from this happening, and you would die, but Daryl would be left carrying that wound for the rest of his life. Why did you have to be the one to… Why couldn’t it have been him who was hurt? You of all people—it was too hard to bear. He should have been there. He should have protected you. He should have stopped it!

Your eyes grew glassy and a few tears escaped. You laced your fingers with his and gave him a sad smile, guessing his whirling thoughts. “It’s not your fault,” you told him. “They did this. It’s not your fault.”

He felt himself crumbling. “‘M so sorry,” he breathed again. He clasped your hand firmly between his and lifted it towards his mouth, but he didn’t press it to his lips, though he wanted to. His head dropped and you could tell he was struggling not to go to pieces. He was always trying to be strong, even when he didn’t need to.

“It’s okay,” you breathed. “It’s okay…”

“No, it ain’t,” he whispered back. His voice was shaky. “Nothin’ ‘bout this is okay. That bastard’s gonna pay for—”

A grimace tightened your features and your breath hitched. The sound stopped Daryl mid-sentence. He rested your hand back down on the blanket and a panicked look crossed his face. “What? What is it?”

Your eyes closed for a moment. “Nothing,” you said, shaking your head against the pillow. “It’s nothing. Just—hurts a little. Aches is all. It’s okay. I’m okay…”

Daryl gulped down his emotion and regained himself. “‘M gonna be righ’ here. Ya ain’t gonna be alone. Okay?” His thumb moved against the silky skin on the back of your hand and you nodded.

“I know,” you said, managing another weak smile.

Suddenly, the door opened quietly and Enid came back in with Maggie trailing behind her. Both of you looked up.

Enid’s face fell as she readily saw your worsened condition. Maggie’s eyes filled with a glassy light as she came to stand beside Daryl.

“How’s Tara?” Daryl asked.

“She’s not sick,” Enid replied. “No sign of the fever yet.”

“Good,” Daryl said, staring back at the paleness of your hand in his.

“But we’ve got six more so far in here, and likely more outside. I sent Carol and Jesus to check on everyone, including the prisoners,” Maggie said. She bent down and stroked your hair. Her eyes filled with tears again. “‘M so sorry,” she whispered to you. “Do ya need anythin’? Anything we can do to make you more comfortable, just ask and we’ll do everything we can.”

Daryl’s head dropped and his eyes squeezed shut. “I’ll—‘m gonna be righ’ back,” he murmured. He met your eyes again. Your brow was furrowed and you were watching him carefully. “‘M gonna be back in just a minute. I promise,” he said softly.

The chair made a harsh noise as he stood up and your eyes tracked him all the way out the door.

Out in the hall, Daryl put some distance between himself and your room, striding down to the end of the hall and standing at the window, staring out at the beginnings of dawn just starting to tickle the deep blue sky with shots of pink and yellow. His fists clenched and his nails cut in little red crescent moon marks on his palms. How the fuck was the sun still coming up when you were laying in a bed dying? It felt like nothing should go on as normal ever again. He suddenly kicked out at the tall wooden cabinet beside him and it rocked and wobbled. And then he broke down. His head dropped and it was all he could do not to scream in agony at the painful chasm in his chest, sticking between his lungs and growing larger and larger as you paled and ached in that bed. Tears poured down his face and he pressed his forehead to the coolness of the glass in front of him.

He startled as a hand landed lightly on his shoulder and he hurriedly mopped his face, but when he turned he knew Maggie had already seen his overwhelming distress and grief. His shoulders shuddered as he gasped in a ragged breath and he shook his head. He saw his own pain, or some version of it, reflected on her face, and he thought of Glenn.

She only nodded and pulled him into a hug briefly. He sniffled and managed to get his breaking under control again. “Go on and be with her again. Enid and I will look after the others. Listen—when it’s time to say goodbye—”

He nodded. “I’ll send somebody to get ya’ll,” he croaked out. He mopped at his damp face again and pulled in a breath.

“Daryl, if you haven’t already, you need to tell her,” Maggie said. And with that, she headed downstairs.

Daryl took a few more deep breaths, steeled himself, and rushed back to your room. Enid gave you a kind smile and released her hold on your hand and quietly took her leave. Daryl swallowed hard and came to sit beside you again. Your eyes followed him across the room.

Your skin was feverish and he could see it making your hair and clothes damp. Had those dark circles been beneath your eyes when he’d stepped out? How long was he gone? How many minutes? It couldn’t have been more than a few, and yet you looked far worse… He got up and went to a pitcher and basin on the chest of drawers and poured in some water. Pulling out the bandana he always carried, he dunked it into the bowl and carried the whole thing over to the nightstand.

You watched him swirl the cloth in the water and wring it out. He pressed it to your forehead and it was cool. Your eyes were still trained on him. He knew you’d likely be able to tell why he’d stepped out of the room. “Here. Drink a little water if ya can,” he said, helping you with a glass Enid had brought.

You swallowed thickly and he set it aside again. “Are you alright?” you asked him. Your voice sounded thin.

He let out a dry laugh as he refreshed his bandana in the water again and dabbed at your neck. “Yer askin’ me that?” he drawled.

“Daryl,” you said softly, and your hand came up to grip his wrist, surprisingly strong. He met your eyes again and yours flickered between his.

He bit down on his bottom lip hard, trying to fight back the tidal wave and scream in his chest. Tears stung his eyes as he looked at you. Your hand floated back to the bed and the place your fingers had been felt hot. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. “No,” he said. “I ain’t alrigh’. And I dunno if I’ll—if I will be.”

A shiver ran through you and Daryl tossed his bandana back down in the bowl and helped you pull the blankets up to your chin. You sighed and your eyes shut for a long moment. Daryl was afraid they wouldn’t open again, but they did. And when you looked straight at him, they seemed clearer somehow, and you smiled at him again despite the devastation written all over his face.

“What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?” he asked. There was a rasp to his voice.

“You,” you breathed. “Just you.”

He ducked his head, listening to each of your breaths, analyzing them for any change. He was far too aware of his knife on his hip.

“I need you to promise me something,” you said.

“Anythin’,” he nodded, leaning in.

“Don’t let this consume you. Please. Negan’s taken enough. Don’t end up one of the casualties too. You have so much good in you. Don’t let him take that away.”

He stared at you for a long moment and then suddenly stood up and leaned over you. His rough fingers brushed gently at your hair and then clasped your face. In that moment, maybe some trick of the changing light, but he thought you looked less ashen. He saw more color in your lips and in your cheeks. Your eyes were bright.

He kissed you then. His lips landed flush against the soft pillow of yours, and it was tender and wanting and desperate and soft all at the same time. He tried to put everything he wanted to say into that kiss. It lasted only a few seconds, but both of you mourned the separation, felt the profoundness of that connection as it had shifted your whole world. He sank back down at your bedside and grabbed your hand in his again, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. He refused to take his eyes off you now.

A smile grew slowly on your face and though your eyelids were heavy, the outer corners of your eyes smiled too, like they always did. “How’d you know that was on my bucket list? ‘Kiss Daryl Dixon.’”

He brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers and shook his head at you.

“I can die happy now,” you said.

“I shoulda told ya every damn day… I thought—I thought we had more time.” His voice broke on the last word.

“So did I,” you agreed. “Life’s a motherfucker like that,” you said dryly.

He almost laughed. “What ‘m tryin’ to say is I—ya know, I—” The words stuck in his chest. He couldn’t seem to get them out no matter how much he wanted to. I’ve been in love with you almost since I met ya.

“I know,” you breathed. “You didn’t have to say it, Daryl. I felt it too.” Your eyes closed again and you sighed, another grimace passed your face as your joints and muscles throbbed. “I’m not sure I can stay awake much longer,” you murmured. “I’m so tired.” You forced your eyes open again. “Would you lay with me? Please?”

Daryl’s chest ached so intensely he thought he would die of it. “Course I will.”

He came around to the other side of the bed and climbed on, scooting over toward your side until your body was almost against his. “C’mere,” he drawled, and he gently looped his arm underneath you and pulled you toward him. You felt featherlight in his arms. You laid tucked in against his body and closed your eyes. This close to you, he could easily hear your every breath, feel every shudder of your body, feel the fever and the chills—but he could also feel the shape of you, your weight, breathe your smell. Your head rested against his shoulder and nuzzled toward the crook of his neck.

“I’m so tired,” you said again, sighing. He could feel your breath on his skin. The silence stretched and his rough fingers drew absent shapes on the bare skin of your arm. Your weight grew heavier against him. “I want you to know… it’s alright if you can’t do it. At the end… It doesn’t have to be you. I need you to know that it’s okay if you can’t. Someone else can…” you trailed off.

He gulped and nodded. “I’mma be righ’ here.”

“I know,” you whispered. Your eyes were closed. “I love you…”

He pressed a kiss to your hair. “I love ya too...” His voice broke, but you didn’t hear it. You were already asleep.

He didn’t know how long he had laid there with you. He was still scrutinizing your every breath and every moment, waiting for the horrific change to take place, or waiting for you to awake in agony as the sickness progressed. But so far, you just slept on. He didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to, anyway.

Eventually, the door creaked open and Rick stepped in barely over the threshold before he froze, seeing Daryl there with you on the bed. They locked eyes for a moment, Rick’s eyes grew glassy and he gave a nod, but then he immediately retreated. No one should intrude on that scene. And he made sure no one would, unless they were called for.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was staring at the bright sunlight streaming in through the sheer curtains. He had no concept of time as he lay there with you asleep against him. Every moment felt agonizingly long and cruelly short at the same time. He was watching the dust particles floating in the currents of air when you stirred. Your hand landed flush to the center of his chest and you turned on your side almost curling into him. He gently took your hand in his and ran his thumb over your soft skin.

Your stirred again and let out a sigh, stretching beside him. Your eyes blinked open. “Daryl…” you said suddenly.

He squeezed your hand gently. “Yeah. ‘M righ’ here.”

“I—I know.” You pushed yourself up on the palm of your hand, still angled in toward him. “Daryl, look at me.”

He did. Your eyes were wide and surprised, but beyond that you looked… like yourself. The color was back in your face, in your lips. Your eyes were bright and clear. You looked well. Your name slipped past his lips.

“I’m not sick,” you said with disbelief. “I don’t feel—I mean, my bones felt like glass before. And—I’m not hot or cold. I—”

Daryl was sitting up now too, staring at you bewildered. He clasped your face and pressed his hand to your forehead. You didn’t feel feverish. Your skin wasn’t clammy. “Ya ain’t sick…” he drawled, the same disbelief dripping from every word. “Ya ain’t—” A laugh bubbled out of you as he popped up onto his knees, kneeling in front of you on the bed, staring with bafflement. “How—how?”

You shook your head. “I—I don’t know…” you stammered, your heart racing. “I felt—I was dying. I felt it. And now—I still feel like I got hit by a truck, and my shoulder hurts like a bitch but—I’m not sick.”

Daryl took your face in both of his hands and his lips crashed down onto yours. You arched into him and kissed him back, relishing the feeling of his hands drifting down to your waist and gently pressing on your lower back to pull you in against him. He still looked dumbfounded when the two of you broke apart, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“I gotta—we gotta—” Daryl vaulted himself off the bed, leaving you kneeling in the middle of it, surrounded by the rumpled blankets. He ripped the door open and shouted out into the hallway. “Maggie! Enid!” He turned back to stare at you, his chest heaving as he seemed to have lost his breath. A stampede of footsteps answered and soon Enid, Maggie, Rosita, Rick, Michonne, Carol—even Tara—were bursting in looking grim and worried. Seeing their expressions, Daryl realized they all thought it was time to say goodbye to you. He hurried to correct their assumption. “She—she ain’t sick. Look! Her fever’s gone and she—she ain’t sick anymore.”

All eyes drifted to you sitting upright on the bed, almost looking as if nothing had happened to you at all.

Enid stepped forward, shock written on her face, and you could only smile as she reached a hand out and pressed the back of it to your forehead. She snapped around to look at everyone else again, a teary smile on her face. “She doesn’t have a fever,” she said, shaking her head.

A whoop went up through the room and soon nearly everyone was hugging you and kissing your cheek, patting you on the back as if you’d done anything at all consciously. But Daryl simply stood by the door, leaned up against the wall watching the scene with a teary smile on his face that wasn’t budging. As the last of your family hugged you, your eyes connected with his again and you felt a shock of electricity run up your back and butterflies erupted in your chest.

“I—I don’t understand how this is possible!” Carol laughed happily.

Rick was shaking his head, smiling.

“Has anyone ever heard of this happening before?” Rosita asked. “I mean, should we still be worried?”

Enid shrugged and shook her head, looking at a loss. “Well, it’s not the same as a bite. It seems like maybe her body was able to fight off the infection.”

Rick rubbed a thoughtful hand over his face. “Maybe it’s like how some people get sick from gutting up the first time, some people the twentieth, and some people never do.”

“Some combination of immune system and dosage maybe,” Maggie said thoughtfully, her eyes still glassy with happy tears.

“Well, whatever it is, thank God. We needed another win,” Michonne said.

Enid nodded and looked back at you on the bed. Daryl was still leaned up against the wall by the door. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. “She may not have a fever anymore but I don’t want to push it. Back in bed,” she said, grabbing hold of the blankets again. “I want you to rest. Your body has been through a lot.”

You moved a little gingerly laying down again, realizing now that your shoulder that had taken the poisoned arrow did still hurt a lot. “I’ll rest… feels like I’m still trying to shake the worse flu of my life.” Exhaustion was settling back over you again. The adrenaline had waned. But your cheeks and lips still had a healthy, rosy glow.

Enid filled the glass on the nightstand with fresh water again for you and instructed everyone to leave so you could sleep. Everyone listened, except Daryl. And somehow, everyone knew he was the exception.

He shut the door softly behind Tara as she went out and the two of you were alone again. He wandered back over to the bedside and you looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes growing tired again.

“Are you still going to keep watch over me?” you asked him.

He nodded. “Mhm… now and every damn day of yer life. If you’ll have me that is…” he said a little abashedly, ducking his head. “Actually, ‘m gonna do that whether ya want me to or not.”

You smiled. “Can you do that from in this bed again? Please?”

“Are ya kiddin’?” He climbed in beside you again and you rolled toward him, tucking yourself into his body. Your breathing was strong and steady; no sign of the ragged, shallow respiration that had plagued you overnight.

“You want to know what I think saved me?” you asked, resting your head on his chest, your arm draped over him.

“Hmm?” he hummed, now feeling his own exhaustion settle over him like a heavy blanket. Now that the terror and devastation and fear and grief had receded, he was drained.

“I think you cured me. With that kiss,” you said, and he could hear a smile in your voice. “Love saved us. The universe decided it couldn’t separate us.”

Daryl let out an amused exhale. “I ain’t magic. Pretty sure this ain’t a fairy tale.”

You sighed and nuzzled against the crook of his neck. “I’m starting to think it might be,” you whispered sleepily.

Daryl’s cheek pressed against the top of your head. He tugged you in more snugly and paused thoughtfully. “Well… I do kinda gotta agree with ya there. Now, sleep,” he hushed you. “I dun wanna risk anythin’. Ya need rest.”

“You too,” you said with a yawn. “And now we’ve got time.”

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"The way to heal a heart." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

(Not my gif!)

When his heart can’t stand the pain of a loss, you discover why Daryl ignored you all those days. But there, you tell your husband the way his heart can heal.

A/N: Based on the conversation between Maggie and Daryl after Glenn's death. (Spoiler alert: also Daryl briefly threatening a poor guy for touching you, because I don't like things to get too serious TT-TT) Hope you like it. Thank you!

The small and cozy cabin loses the amber glow that the fire of the small chimney caused when Daryl throws the sand on the hot embers, extinguishing all the flames. Lying on the small bed, you watch silently as the place loses its color, but the heat is still impregnated in the air and on the walls, and you feel it as a little shelter for your husband and for you, far from the walkers and the world in general.

When Daryl reaches the bed, he kicks off his boots, taking off his vest next, his shirt and his pants, leaving them on the floor to get in the bed too, where the heat of his body wraps you as he puts his left arm around you, resting on his right side to stroke your belly under the covers.

Living there was good, but that wasn’t the reality and you two had to take a step to it, so tomorrow you two would go to the Hilltop.

“I wish I had said good-bye.” You say. King Ezekiel didn’t offer his help to fight against Negan, but you would always thank him for his help towards Daryl. “I think we should leave the kingdom in the right way.”

Although Daryl didn’t like that the king hadn’t helped you all, he recognized Ezekiel’s gesture towards him.

“We can come back someday. Kids were crazy ‘bout ya.”

Even if you trained them to protect themselves during your stay, they kept the innocence within, intact and bright, despite how cold and grey the new world had become. But the future was uncertain for them and for you two, and you worry about what would happen next.

“Do you think we’ll be okay after all this?”

Daryl was never a person who thought of the future either, the difficulties of his life took him to live one day at a time, without great plans or big expectations. But he found you there, as a light of hope, and then he found himself wanting more. He didn’t dream of impossible things, but simply asking to have one more day with you.

“As long as we’re together everythin’ will be fine.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I want to.” He says, looking softly at you. His doubts and his negatives had consumed his life in the old world, but he had to find himself falling too deep to then realized that he wanted to live in this new one. “Close yer eyes, peach. We’ll leave early tomorrow.”

The hours pass when you fell asleep and it feels like being on a cloud, far from the fear of dying or losing your people. There is no heavy guilt on your shoulders, no recollections of who you were and who you had to become to survive, no walkers, no blood, without a world painted red. But suddenly, your heart starts feeling heavy, and your body sinks into a complete darkness, fear and weeping. Your closed eyelids move, trying to wake you up from that high fever, until finally, you do. You sit on the bed, taking a big breath of air, back in reality where the cabin is no longer warm, but then you realize the nightmare isn’t yours. It is not in your head, but in Daryl’s.

“Daryl, hey, wake up…” You shake his shoulder. Lying still on right left side, his body moves against the bed, his hair covering his face as he complained. “Daryl!”

The last push finally awakes him, and for a moment, Daryl finds himself looking to the void, in a place far away from there as he sits down too and breathes through his parted lips, his gaze lost and his chest rising and falling sharply.

“Hey, it’s okay, it was just a nightmare–”

“No… it was somethin’ else.”

“What?”

But Daryl remains silent for a while, never saying what it really was. The cool night air helps him to calm down, and Daryl finally comes to be himself after he was lost in his own memories.

“Ya should… lie down again.”

He looks at your side of the bed with his head down as he did when he was ashamed, and without saying anything else, he lay back down with his back to you. In that moment, you realize Daryl is suddenly far gone again, but you don’t want to force anything with him, so you just lay sideways too, your gaze fixed on the scars on his back.

It takes you some time to fall asleep, but the hours pass in a few seconds when you do, and then, it is day again: the birds are singing a sweet song, and it is time to leave. The muscles of your body are tense, and you find yourself staring at the wooden ceiling after you rub your burning eyes with your fists.

“Time to go, peach…” Daryl is standing at the table, already dressed as he packs his backpack and yours. “Get yer pretty ass out of bed and get dressed.”

He seems to be in a good mood that morning, so you decide not to press him to speak and wait for him to do it first.

There are no walkers around the forest near the Hilltop, and the group of future archers had improved greatly in the previous days since you and Daryl got there. But when the afternoon falls slowly, there are only two people with you, a young man and a young woman, siblings, twins. They are the best in the group; they are the strongest too, especially since they are not afraid to fight for their freedom.

“Have you been married for a long time, (Y/N)?”

Sean is a good man, young, brave, handsome, determined, but blushes when Mary, standing in front of you two, chuckles to herself before shooting her arrow that hit the target perfectly. She and her brother live in a trailer and they gave Daryl and you a place in their home.

“Sometimes it feels like centuries.” You chuckle at him, and then, you look back at Mary. “That was amazing, Mary, well done. You are getting better every day.”

She smiles at you.

“Are you flirting with (Y/N), Sean?” Maggie’s voice behind you makes everyone turn around. The knife-throwing lesson group is already moving away in the distance to get back home, and only Maggie and Sasha are left. “That’s a very bad idea.”

“If Daryl finds out I don’t want to think what he would do.” Sasha chuckles, making fun of him. “He doesn't like people getting too close to his wife. He just wants (Y/N) all by himself.”

Suddenly, Sean looks frightened, because he had met a very silent Daryl. That scared the strangers.

“Thank you, Sasha.” You say, but she just laughs as you look at Sean with a soft gaze. “They're kidding, Sean, please, don't listen to them.”

Maggie chuckles.

“Okay, it’s time to go, guys. Get your things and go home.”

Everyone on the Hilltop respected Maggie, so the twins take their things and walk in the same direction as the other group after saying goodbye. You walk towards the tree and pick up the arrows. They are firm against the trunk, and you think how easy it would be to embed it in the body of the enemy. But that is a dark thought, so you push it away and go back with the girls to walk through the woods.

“Is Daryl okay, (Y/N)?”

Your gaze moves from the front and you look to your left without stopping. Maggie waits, her eyes looking at you with concern. You know where her question is going, because since you and Daryl came to that place, he couldn’t look at Maggie in the eyes.

“Yeah. He is.”

Your short answer makes her nod, thoughtful, but she is not satisfied with it. Maggie loved Daryl, she worried about him, and you knew nothing had changed for her.

“He seems distant these days.”

You knew perfectly well that Daryl was being distant with everybody. He disappeared all day in the forest and barely spoke at night, and the only one who seemed to be able to approach him was Jesus. It hurt you to think that Daryl didn’t lean on you as your husband, but he was like that and you knew it when you married him, and now, you couldn’t complain.

The amber light from lamp on the picnic table glows in the dark and cold night as you and Jesus play cards. You sit down on the wooden chair and rest your elbows on the table, having a good time with him, but you didn’t tell him that you only stayed up so late because Daryl hadn’t yet returned.

Time passed and you worried more.

“And… straight flush!” Jesus throws his cards on the table feeling like a winner. All his cards are hearts: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. “Beat that, (Y/N).”

You chuckle.

“It is impressive, Jesus, but you don’t win with that…” You push your cards on the table, too, five cards of spades from 10 to ace, without feeling like a winner though. “I think this is a Royal flush. And it means I win.”

Jesus leans his elbows on the table as his expression falls.

“If this was not ordinary poker I would have lost all my clothes by now.”

You laugh, and for a moment, that seems like a very distant memory. Jesus begins to laugh with you, but his smile dies as the gates open and he looks back. You both look in the same direction and see Daryl coming in with his crossbow around his body and a canvas bag that seems to be heavy, so surely he had hunted some animals.

Jesus turns again and picks up all the cards as Daryl walks towards you two. The distance is long so Jesus speaks freely, but softly.

“He’s just having a bad time, (Y/N), but don’t worry about him.”

It was impossible not to worry about him.

“I know his personality is… special, but it’s a bit hurtful that he still can not talk to me.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t want to do it, it’s just that Daryl doesn’t want to worry you. He doesn’t know how to do it, too.” He sighs. “Should we play again?”

You are still not sleepy and being awake turning on the bed is not a tempting idea, so you nod while finally, Daryl reaches you two.

“Shouldn’t ya be sleepin’?” He asks, his voice low and hoarse.

He cares about you, he always did.

“We’re playing cards.”

“I’m playing; (Y/N) is kicking my ass.” Jesus chuckles, handing out the cards. “Do you want to play, Daryl?”

“Nah. I’ll go to sleep.”

Daryl just passes you by and walks towards the trailer. You feel that your body falls when you exhale, but you take the cards to forget the matter, at least for a while.

After about 25 minutes, you call it a night when your eyelids start to feel heavy, so you say goodnight to Jesus and walk back to the trailer. You didn’t sleep much anymore, but sometimes, under the apparent protection of the gates surrounding you, you could lay down for a while, to stop thinking.

Inside and on the other side of the trailer, Sean and Mary are sleeping too, so you quietly take off your boots before lying down on the bed. From his side, Daryl sleeps with his back to you. However, lying on your left side and as you drift off into a light sleep, you feel Daryl rolling over in bed, blindly searching for the warmth of your body, pressing himself against you, because that reminded him that he is still alive.

In the Hilltop orchard, you are glad to see the vegetables growing perfectly. The days were good in that place because the people accepted you two so fast. Mutual help was what increased the trust between the community and the new guests, and until then, everything went well.

Squatting, in front of the orchard, your hands become dirty as you remove some soil.

“Normal people would wear gloves, (Y/N).” Sean chuckles, appearing in front of you as you stand up.

“Are you calling me weird?” You tease him and run the back of your hand down your face to scratch your cheek. “I thought you were practicing with the bow.”

“I was going to go now, but I thought you were going with us.” He smiles a little bit, kind of shy.

You smile a little bit too.

“Not today, Sean. My arm hurts.”

The bowstring used to scrape your skin every time you released the rope, and the friction was starting to burn, but the truth is that you are tired mentally after last night.

“(Y/N)…” Sean chuckles, again. “You have some dirt on your cheek.”

Your first reaction is to clean it, but getting even more soil on your face. Sean tries not to laugh, and you wipe your hands on your jean before trying again.

“I think I should have worn gloves. Guess you were right after all.” You chuckle. “But don't tell Sean, I don't want him to think he's always right.”

He smiles.

“Here… let me do it for you.” Sean hides his hand on his long sleeve to help, and he wipes your face gently. “We don’t want you to go around here with your pretty face dirty.”

But there, just as in the romantic books you used to read before the world went to hell; Daryl has to arrive at the wrong time to misunderstand the situation completely, and in that moment, he takes Sean’s arm and pushes it away from you.

“Keep yer hands off ma wife or I’ll break ‘em, kid. I ain’t gonna say it twice.”

You feel terrible, because Sean is still young and easy to scare.

“Daryl…” You call him in such a firm voice that he turns to look at you. The fire inside is suddenly burning, but Sean is not the one to blame for anything. “Sean, leave us alone, please.”

He looks at Daryl and then at you, wondering if you would be okay. But, even scared of Daryl's horrible silence the past few days, Sean remains in his place.

“(Y/N), are you sure?” He whispers, and his small words are enough to make Daryl narrow his eyes, giving Sean a look full of anger.

“Are ya fuckin’ thinkin' I’m gonna hurt ma wife, kid?” But before Daryl can take a step towards him, you block his way with your body, causing your husband to stop dead in his tracks, however, you can’t stop him from keep talking. “Ya better walk away ‘fore I start beatin’ your ass.”

You are mad as hell, but you pull yourself together before trying again.

“Daryl, shut it!” You say firmly again, without raising your voice because that wasn’t in your nature, sadly, and you look at Sean. “Sean, leave. In any case, I would hurt him first so don’t worry. Go, please.”

Unsure, Sean walks away, but it's your confident words that keep Daryl looking at you. However, before you could say anything to him, you hear the man on the gates screaming that the saviors are coming.

“(Y/N)! Daryl!” Enid shouts running toward you from the gates, and you two run towards her and meet halfway. “You two must hide. The saviors should not know that you two are here.”

“Wait, no…” You say quickly. “We must find Maggie first. She’s in the woods with the others.”

“Jesus went to warn her. She will be alright. Come on!” Enid runs toward the building behind and you two run after her.

The sound of the cars become clearer and the gates open just as you all surround the building. Enid stops at the wooden doors that would lead you two to a cellar in a small basement, but it doesn’t feel right, not while the others are exposed with the saviors there.

However, Daryl opens the door and waits for you to enter.

“I will come for you when they are gone.” Enid says behind you.

Against everything, you walk down the stone steps and open the wooden door to enter the cellar while the place sinks in the darkness the moment Enid closes the doors above. The vegetable baskets are stack on shelves, and you push one to the side, which had enough space for you to hide in case someone come down. But, when you turn, you see Daryl staring through a hole in the door with his knife in his hand.

“Daryl, this is not the right time…” You whisper. Your mouth is dry and you feel your heart as tight as your stomach. “Please, don’t do it, not now.”

The plea in your voice surprise him, so he turns around and you both hide. The shadows of the basement serve as protection as he pushes the shelf back into the right place. It is not long before the outside doors open again, and the light enters through the cracks in the wood. You hold your breath when one of the saviors comes in, watching everything around him and then taking a basket. The place is full with food and the savior begins to collect the vegetables, piling them near the door.

And again and again, he turns his back on you, unprotected. Daryl lifts the knife in his hand, squeezing it hard, so close to kill the savior. But, even if you know he could handle one of them, they are too many outsides for you to make it alive, so you raise one hand and close it around his wrist, soft but firm, and at then, he finally looks at you after days. His blue eyes hold your gaze, and you slowly shake your head to stop him.

Fortunately, the savior takes his things and leave. Your heart feels less heavy and you breathe again as Daryl and you step out of that little hiding place. Doubts return to you, and you wonder how much harm those people could do, and how much harm you could do, and you ask for the time when you only had to worry about the walkers.

“I could have killed him.” Daryl grunts with his back in front of you.

The hatred to them for having kept him in that cell was never going to disappear.

“I know well you could. But you didn’t think about the consequences.”

Through his shirt, you see his back tenses.

“I never do it, do I? That’s why people die… ‘cause of me.”

The guilt you hear in his voice takes your breath away. Daryl really believed that, and his voice was so sincere and broken that it breaks your heart. The guilt is on his shoulders, you can see it more clearly know, so heavy that he can hardly bear it.

“Daryl…” You say, preparing to say your best friend’s name. “Glenn’s death was not your fault.”

Daryl turns, head down and part of his hair covering his face. His strength is destroyed, and he sobs before he speaks.

“It was… I have nightmares 'bout it. If I had not been so stupid…”

“Daryl, no…” You try again, taking a deep breath before. It is hard for you to hear his words, because they weren’t true. “Things happen, people die and we can’t help it, but we can honor their lives, fight for the things they believed in. They are not here but we are, and now I understand that we owe them this because they deserve it. Glenn was brave, kind, strong, and had a beautiful heart that not everyone has. He stayed true to himself, he didn’t lose part of him in this world, and he loved you so much because you and he were exactly the same.” Silent tears are about to fall from your eyes, but you stop them for a moment. “Talk to Maggie, okay? Listen to her and believe when she tells that she loves you so much because she wouldn’t lie to you. The way she sees you has not changed at all. But you have to forgive yourself even if you are not guilty of anything. Be stronger and fight for Glenn, make him feel proud. It’s the only way you can live in peace.”

He takes a moment, but finally, Daryl nods: he wipes his face and tries to hold your gaze.

“M’sorry for leavin’ ya alone these days. M’so sorry, peach.” He says softly, and you walk to him to put your arms around his shoulders. He clings to you like his life depends of it, arms around your waist, holding your body against him. His beard tickles your bare neck and he takes a deep breath before looking back at you, but without letting you go from his side. “And I would never hurt ya, never, y’know it, right?”

You let out a sigh, knowing that from there, things would get better.

“I know, love, but you still have to apologize to Sean.” You smile a little bit just to lighten the mood, pushing away a few strands of his hair out of his face to look into his eyes, but at the same time letting him know that you are serious. “If not, I'm going to have to hurt you, like, seriously.”

Daryl smiles softly, and he nods, hugging you again.

At that very moment, he is letting out all the pain that was hurting him all that time, but that was the first step to healing. And you know that everything would improve over time. Hearts healed at their own pace but they did eventually. And right there, your hearts are regenerating, closing their wounds and beating harder than before.