#daryl dixon is so hot

[scream-xoxo]

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 | 𝐃. 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 (preview)

A/N: If you like this, read the rest of this chapter and all future chapters on my Wattpad!

Summary: Valerie May awakes in the midst of the end of the world without her memory, and nothing but the clothes on her back and a crossbow-wielding redneck.

The rain tapping on my face awoke me - not the stench of decay, the hollow pit in my stomach, nor the merciless pressure on my chest. A storm had settled overhead. High in the sky, the sun stood, concealed by a veil of dark clouds. 

In the gray, a silhouette looped around, staggered by the rain. From down here looking up, even vultures were beautiful. Jagged wings reformed into ridged crags, beaks like silver daggers instead of a pick to chip flesh away. From here the bird looked like a hawk, which meant I was the bunny it was preying on.

While, the panic of my plight — an unnamed, stark-faced, Jane Doe — should’ve long taken me in with its tide l, the only thing that had come over me was a melancholic confusion — soft, foggy, like easy waves washing over me. My mind was a blank-slated slab of marble.

Something that I could feel right down to the cave of my stomach had me pinned. I palmed the ground, coming up with fistfuls of glass shards that stuck in my hands like needles. Though I could not see it, for tufts of my blonde hair and the weight that obscured my line of sight, I knew that the rest of my body would not look that much different from how I imagined my hands to look — marred and bloody. 

A dull throb bore through the base of my skull, with it a feverish sweat that began to bead on my forehead. As my coarse lips quivered against my teeth, a tremor clawed up the ridges of my spine. I was soaked through, a dish rag tossed lazily over the edge of the sink. 

I needed to move, to hurl this anchor off and seek warmth. Fear was not a thing in me then, only hunger and pain.

I lunged my knee into the mass, a feeble attempt to create room to maneuver, for my bones had weakened far too much. A despairing groan slipped passed my lips. Substituting panic, dread began to pool in my stomach — perhaps the result of self preservation instincts, perhaps the foretelling of what more was to come. 

I was a mouse stuck in a trap. 

I balled my fists, biting back the pain of glass embedding itself in my skin. I shut my eyes for a moment to soothe the sting that threatened tears. Moving in slow shaky motions, I hugged my hands to my chest. I clamped my teeth down on my lip until I tasted metal. 

With the adrenaline of pain rushing through my veins, the object wasn’t nearly as heavy as it was initially. Straining my muscles and gritting my teeth, it finally fell to the ground with a sickening thud, cracking like an egg against the cement. Blood swirled to the storm drain as the unrelenting downpour continued.

My breathing halted to a complete stop, the walls of my throat collapsing in like an avalanche. The smell of death crushed me, making the air thick and putrid. My vision blurred like looking through a smoke screen, shoes sloshing across the slick pavement. I turned to heave air onto the sidewalk - my stomach was a barren desert. Breath returning ragged and uneasy, I turn back to face the gruesome sight. 

Though drips of blood and the early signs of decay obstructed her skin, the woman’s face was sweet even in death, face unscathed by the sun and earth. Her blonde hair, bits stained copper with blood, laid out in matted rows framing her head. Her pale blue eyes had lost their light, yet they were stunning even as they began to sink back into their sockets. Her plump lips, the color of a pale blueberry, rested around the muzzle of a gun.

Hanging from her neck was a silver chain and a locket with the name Abigail in a plain scrawl, as if engraved by a typewriter. The knowledge of her name racked my body with another tremble. I moved one hand to turn it over, clicking it open with gentle care. The picture inside was drenched but not destroyed, though I wished it was. Abigail and her two daughters, the oldest no older than 10, smiled at me, eyes crinkled with unknowing happiness. I pinched the picture in between two fingers and rolled the paper into nothing. 

I did not want to wonder what had become of her daughters. All I knew was that this woman would never receive a proper closure to her life. There she would stay, with vultures picking away at what scarce meat clung to her bones.

Carefully, as if not to wake her, I shut her eyelids with a soft movement of my fingertips. 

I would not allow myself to mourn this woman. Instead, I analyze my surroundings - the fallow bones of a city left behind. 

[daryldixonnn]

SCREAMING

[dilfs4lifexo]

<3

[thewalkingdilf]

this pic DOES shit to me frrrrr😵‍💫

[tylermaxxine]

happy wednesday! i need him💕🎀

[rickswh0r3]

on my knees begging

taglist : @colt-python @narcissismand @epilepsywarrior8787 @celtic-crossbow @ririi-3 @walker-bait-1973 @versatilehater @chibsgirl143 @blackvelveteen1339

if you want to join the taglist comment here

[fuckedbydaryl]

So now we know why Norman always sticks his tongue out 🥵🤤🫠

[normans-fav-balloon]

You can't tell me he doesn't know.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

My eyes are rolling straight into the back of my goddamn skull, toes curling, literally climbing walls, foaming at the mouth, barking, howling, SCREAMING at the top of my lung while literally taking off my motherfucking clothes are you actually KIDDING ME 👁️👁️

[blackvelveteen1339]

The way he caresses himself 😩🍒

[allitwd]

his arms>>>>

[ ♡ ] his arms

season 2 . ep 2 . 'what lies ahead'

summary : daryl and the grp are trying to find sophia

a/n : he's so fuckable

[avidhorrormoviefan]

i got two holes for a reason

[daryldixonnn]

he’s so hot

[dilfs4lifexo]

[dixonsgirl93]

Let’s take a moment to just appreciate Daryl Dixon in a hoodie in this scene

[star-wrote]

i’m thinking some thoughts🧎‍♀️