#i love Daryl Dixon

[dilfhouseofhorror]

Daryl in season 3 episode 5 is probably the hottest he's ever looked omg. him caring for Judith and feeding her and giving her a nickname. rocking her and shushing her 😭😭😭😭 he's so amazing bro.

like him looking out for Rick and Carl and being a father to Judith when Rick was too out of his mind to do anything. LIKE he found out Jude needed formula and IMMEDIATELY!!!! he was like "nope. not her. we're losing daylight people let's go." LIKE UGHHEHSHSHDJD I LOVE YOU

[sinkdownbeneath]

“Fine By Me.”

Pairing - Daryl Dixon x Trans Masc Reader

Warnings - Talk of drug use, illness, needles, identity, possible transphobia.

Setting - S4 Prison

Summary - Daryl thinks you’re doing drugs, but ends up learning something new about you.

Type - Fluff

A/N: this is my first published fic!! i have briefly proofread, and i’m pretty happy with it. hope you enjoy :)

You sat on the edge of the bed in your cell, positioning the needle over your thigh, gripping at your flesh trying to gauge where to inject yourself. your palms were sweaty and you couldn’t get a good grip on the syringe, with Hershel in Block A, treating the prison flu, you had nobody to do this for you. Hershel had told you the week prior that he would be going to take care of the sick, and he took extra steps in showing you how to inject your medication, but this was the first time you had tried on your own, it was proving difficult.

You took a breath and widened your eyes, grabbing your skin and moving your face closer, trying to get the needle in the perfect spot before you pushed it in, ‘just do it, idiot’ you thought to yourself.

You heard a scoff and jumped, looking up with a surprised expression, Daryl stood at your door, holding the curtain you had put up against the frame.

“Didn’t take you for a fuckin’ junkie.” He said, a scowl across his face.

“What? No! I-“ you began,

“I don’ wanna hear it.” Daryl said, starting to turn away and leave.

“Daryl!” you jump towards him, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around, he looked taken aback, offended, you weren’t sure, but before he could do or say anything, you grabbed his arm and yanked him into your cell, peering your head around the curtain to check nobody else was witness.

You held the syringe in front of his face, waving it as you annunciated “This is not heroin,” in a whisper-shout.

He looked puzzled and almost like he was challenging you, as if he was asking ‘oh yeah? what is it then?’.

“I am not a junkie, this is my medication! Now if you would give me a hand with sticking it in my thigh I would be grateful.”

You spoke to him in such a way he stood speechless for a moment, like he was a child who just got an angry finger waved in his face for his attitude.

“Well?” You ask, impatiently.

He flushed red for a moment and sheepishly nodded, taking the syringe from your hand, you sat back down and rolled your trouser leg back up, exposing the piercing site, jab marks from the previous weeks lingering.

Daryl sat beside you, needle in hand, inspecting it, and just as you thought he was about to stick you with it, he hesitated.

“Just lemme see whatever you put in here, I don’t wanna be responsible for nothin’.”

It was your turn to hesitate, you scoffed and looked at him, gauging whether he meant it or not, whether he really needed to see why you were secretly medicating yourself every week, when his expression didn’t falter, you reached into the box under your bed, and pulled out the small vial containing your lifeline.

You placed it into his hand, avoiding all eye contact, this man was the one you worried about telling, he wasn’t as loud as Merle was about his opinions, but they were brothers, they were hicks, surely they had their opinion in common?

He rolled the vial in his palm, exposed the small text written on the label, and brought it up to his eye. The bottle read ‘TESTOSTERONE’ in a bold font. Daryl studied it before peering over the bottle and into your eyes, he looked at you almost knowingly, his eyes told you that it was okay, you were okay.

This was the softest look Daryl had ever given you, he had just said so much more with his eyes than you had ever heard from his mouth, it meant a lot.

He gave the bottle back to you, and took the syringe between his teeth, using one hand to move your trouser leg up, and the other to grip a chunk of your flesh, rolling it between the tips of his fingers until the chunk felt right, he took his hand from your trousers and retrieved the needle from his mouth, poking it into you, and pressing down on the plunger at a slow pace.

You watched him, how he nibbled on his lip and furrowed his brow in concentration, how gently he treated you, you watched as he handled you with such care, you looked so deeply into him that you didn’t even realise he had removed the needle. The sudden sound it made when he tossed it onto the table next to your bed startled you awake from your trance, and you found yourself staring at the side of Daryl’s face, his cheeks flushed and his eyes darting to all places other than your eyes.

“Sorry.” You said, he nodded.

“Thank you for doing that.”

“S’alright.”

The silence was so loud.

“How did you learn to do that?” You asked, breaking the silence so suddenly you caught yourself off guard.

“Do wha’?” he questioned, raising a brow and looking at you through his fringe,

“Inject, it seemed like you knew what to do.”

He nibbled on his lower lip again, looking around the room, as if he was trying to find the words.

“My Mama,” he replied, “before the fire, before everythin’, she was sick, I had to give her her medicine sometimes, she was in a lot of pain, kept her in bed all day, smokin’, readin’ her magazines, Merle took care of her when he wasn’t at Dad’s, but sometimes I had ta.”

He kept his eyes on the ground before timidly looking toward you, you looked at eachother for a moment, before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight, you were telling him it was okay, you were thanking him for not freaking out over you being trans. You were very private about your identity before the world fell, and you thought you would have to be the same now, you had told Hershel very reluctantly, but he told you that God loved you, and that he accepted you, and now Daryl knew, and he treated you with more care and understanding than before. You thought maybe your family, your new, found family, would be okay with it too.

Daryl wrapped his arms around you, and squeezed before pulling away from the hug and standing up by the door.

“Gotta go, Rick needs help with the fence.” he told you, punctuating his sentence with a half smile.

“Okay.”

He turned away and lifted the curtain.

“Daryl?”

“Mm?” He hummed.

“Thank you, I thought-“ You began,

“I know what it’s like. Feelin’ like you don’t belong. What you’re doin’, who you are, is fine by me.”

[roo-brr]

I am genuinely so in love it hurts, look at him hes so beautiful, hes so lovely, such a lovely lad I love him hes perfect AHHH

[koolaidashley]

STREAMING DEATH STRANDING !!!!

[goldenispunk]

[moonpascal]

self insert x canon will always hold a special place in my heart

[winchesterswhore]

do you ever look at a man and think i need you in the most disgusting, vile, pathetic, animalistic, disturbing, vulgar and morally questionable way possible

[ladymacbeth-writes-sometimes]

He’s such a girl dad I need him to fuck a baby into me

[mcbride]

"Our song, my love." DARYL DIXON - THE BOOK OF CAROL 2.04 "Le Paradis Pour Toi"

[r6eduss]

Don’t know if this is a hot take but I think Daryl would be pretty vanilla. I think there’s a lot of things he’d feel uncomfortable doing considering his trauma/how he grew up. I think at most he’d nibble/kind of bite you or be into hair pulling.

Love this man

[daryltwdixon]

thinking about waking up to Daryl making breakfast in the kitchen of your shared home:

you wake up to an empty bed, but that was normal. he had been out with Aaron for days on end, you were so used to waking up alone since he took the position. but when you wake up to an empty bed and the smell of maple syrup and warmth wafting through the cracked open bedroom door...

he would be barefoot, his usual boots abandoned for once. what if he was wearing his boxers instead of his usual jeans, finally having somewhere to be himself and loose in your home together :')

his hair is still a little messy from sleep, sticking up in places he didn't bother to smooth down before starting on his breakfast mission

he's so good with his weapons, his tools, so its cute watching him fumble around trying to make a perfect breakfast for you.

his brow is furrowed, tongue sticking out as he focuses on flipping the pancake in the pan to perfection.

when he notices you walking in, only in his large t shirt, his cheeks pink and he's all shy as he admits he wanted to surprise you today. He says it all as your arms wrap around his mid drift from behind, pushing your face into his back and inhaling his scent.

This was your happy place. This is all you wanted, for forever.

The food might not look perfect, but you notice he tried to make it nice—he even wiped the edge of the plate with a rag, something you’d never expect from him.

There’s a rare softness in his eyes as he watches you take your first bite, clearly waiting to see if you like it. You catch the tiniest twitch of his lips when you tell him it’s good, a quiet kind of pride he’d never outright express.

When you tease him about burning the toast, he gives a gruff, half-hearted defense, “Ain’t burnt—just got a little extra crunch, s’all.”

When you offer to clean up after the sweet breakfast he made, Daryl shakes his head with a quiet grin and tells you he has other plans for the morning. He drags you back to bed, kissing and licking the last traces of syrup from your fingers before taking his time worshipping every inch of you, making sure the day starts in his favorite way—with you.

The morning is gentle and slow with sweet nothings whispered to each other, the longing in his eyes when he tells you how much he misses you when he’s away, the feel of his big, broad hands on you and ya know what I’m gonna stop there before I lose my mind.

[roo-brr]

I am actually so obsessed I love this man so much Im so normal pls I'm-

[thebookofcarol]

we were absolutely robbed of this moment. this is how Norman Reedus played it. does this look like a man conflicted about going home or staying in France with his "new family?" nahhhh. this looks like a man of honor who just couldn't leave a kid to fend for himself while he made his way back home. and this is how frustrated he was. that's a FUCK EVERYTHING moment. Daryl lost the one opportunity he thought he had to get back home to Carol...

[kookiekult]

I think a hug from him would cure me of all my ailments physically and mentally

[mikozzlmao]

I want to hug him so bad u don't understand☹️

[ankhmutes]

this speaks volumes of character development and caryl’s relationship as well. i had forgotten this scene. Love!

DARYL & CAROL S05E06 “Consumed”