#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. 

[raidenmichi]

Lord this man is fine😭

[bleed-ing4u]

Currently thinking of S7 daryl. That gray button up shirt has me CLAWING THE FUCKING WALLS. THE SWEAT STAINS OH MY GOD I'M GOING INSANE. THE WAY THE SHIRT WAS CLINGING TO HIS BACK WITH SWEAT

I'M IN HEAT OVER THIS MAN.

[normans-fav-balloon]

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

[maiacon]

I saw a music video with him in it and I thought I'd give making an edit a try <3

(Original music and video: JiHae - Just feels)

[madzzz0797]

Just thinking about Daryl pining after reader.

CW: mild cursing, cigarettes, alcohol, implied death of an animal(non specific), implied smut(non descriptive) Daryl is kind of ruining her purity.

!!!MDNI ON THIS POST!!! Also if any of this bothers you please just scroll, your mental health is important to me. 

He is so in love with her it’s crazy. The only problem is she was raised religious and was very sheltered her entire life. Even now in her mid twenties she still is just a pure and kind as ever.

Daryl would be scared at first of breaking her out of her shell. But after he does he shows her all kinds of things. How to hunt and track animals. He took her with him to check some traps he set the previous day. She feels bad and of course she cries a little. “Dammit, I’m sorry darling I never shoulda brought ya with me.” Daryl felt bad so he just hugged he in the middle of the woods. Cradling her to his chest while she sniffed.

He gives her the first cigarette she’s ever had. Daryl was scared that she may choke based on how hard she coughed. He took it away from her. “Pretty women like ya don’t smoke noways.”

After she begged him for days he finally caved and took her for a ride on his motorcycle. He went slower than he normally would but she didn’t need to know that. “You better hold on tight, ya hear?”

She stumbled upon him drinking one night and asked if she could have some. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea doll.” But he knew he could never resist the curiosity in her eyes. And of course Daryl could never say no to his sweet girl. He hesitantly gives her a beer. She gets super happy drunk and Daryl just finds it so adorable.

Her fighting was awful. Poor girl was so afraid of hurting someone she forgot that she also has to protect herself. Daryl eventually convinced her to at least learn how to punch someone. He knew it wasn’t in her character but, “this is the end of the world sweetheart.” After she punched him in the arm like he asked her too he instantly knew they had a long way to go.

He thought her how to ask for what she wants. “Daryl please,” she whined under him. Her breath was ragged and her eyes glossed with tears of pleasure. He looked down at her and smirked.

“Please what? What ya want girl?” He knew exactly what she wanted. But she needs to understand that she has to be able to speak for herself also.

“Please just fuck me Daryl.” As soon as his name left her lips he’s giving her exactly what she was asking for.

As always, feel free to like 💜, comment 💬, and reblog ♻️. It means so much to me every time someone interacts with my posts. Also please send in a request if there is something you want to see me try my hand at writing.

[honeypotblog]

thinking about DARYL DIXON hugging you from behind. his huge forearms encircling your waist and squeezing you slightly. the feeling of how big his forearms really are making you warm. he drops his head into your shoulder, hair falling into his face, and inhales your scent before moving his hands to your hips to bring you closer to him.

[thewalkingdilf]

this pic DOES shit to me frrrrr😵‍💫

[totorosacorns]

happy wednesday! i need him💕🎀

[daryldixonnn]

SCREAMING

[springzbee]

Quit my job to spend more time looking at photos of Norman Reedus

Here are some of my favorite

[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]

He shouldn't get away with being both cute and hot at the same time

[maiacon]

If only he was mine, if only he was mineeeeee!!!!!

[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 👁️👁️