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chellestrash · 8 months

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A long road ahead

Shane Walsh x Female!Reader

summary: bored in the car with your boyfriend you decide to make the drive a bit more fun for both of you. warnings: pet names, explicit language, explicit content, teasing, exhibitionism, masturbation, oral sex, unprotected sex, car sex, pure smut, not much plot to it word count: 2.2k a/n: i literally got the idea and then sat down and wrote it in like the same day? Had to get it out of the system before I work on some bigger projects, hope you'll enjoy it!

You watch the not so well, lit road from the passenger's seat of your car while Shane drives you both to a little party at one of your old friend's place, a couple of cities over. It's not a short drive, but you figured it won't be too bad on a Friday evening, and you quickly realize your assumption was correct. It's not bad, but it is boring, the road is long, and you start to get bored...quickly.

You turn to your boyfriend, watching as he skips through the radio station for a bit before setting on something that seemed semi familiar to both of you. He clears his throat, tilting his head to the side, as he goes back to watching the road in front of him. Your eyes linger on his arms for a bit, the fabric of his t-shirt tight around his bicep as he grips the steering wheel after changing the gear. You trace your eyes down his body, from his rough side profile, over that pretty neck, down to his broad shoulders, his chest and the down and down and lower until you stop right between his legs.

Your mind wanders, pretty quickly finding its way back to yours and Shane's favorite ways of passing the time together, and you suck your lower lip in between your teeth.

Watching him for another moment, with your mind occupied by the memories of his body, your hand slowly finds it way under your dress and make up your mind the second your boyfriend's voice brings you back to him.

“You okay?”

He asks, eyebrows pulled together as he turns from the road to you and back to the road again.

“Yeah.”

You answer quickly, and he glances over at you again, scrunching his nose up slightly as he does his best to figure out if you mean it or not.

“You sure?”

“I'm fine, Shane, watch the road.”

You instruct him, and he does as he's told. After turning to face the window on your side of the car, you prop your head in your palm and watch the dark buildings pass by behind the glass. It doesn't take more than a couple of minutes for your brain to wander back into the place Shane managed to, oh so effortlessly, pull you out off.

Rubbing your thumb over your thigh, you slowly move your palm higher and higher up your leg before pushing it under the fabric of your dress.

“What are-”

Shane starts, catching your hand move out the corner of his eye, but chokes on his own words once he turns his head to look at you, his eyes immediately falling between your legs. His jaw drops, eyes widen when he registers the subtle movements of your hand under the fabric, and you take this opportunity to make the ride a bit more interesting for both of you. Lifting your ass up from the seat, you quickly pull your black panties down, opening your legs slightly to allow them to fall onto the floor of the car.

“Shit-”

He curses, dropping his hand to the now, growing bulge in his jeans, doing his best to keep the car in the right lane without looking at the road too much.

“Wait- wait wait wait - fuck what-”

He tries, but you speak over him.

“I'm sooooo fucking bored, Walsh.”

You tease him with a whine, pulling the dress up just enough for him to catch the glimpse of your pussy before finally touching yourself properly.

Humming, satisfied with the sensation, you rub your fingers over your center for a moment before spreading your legs open some more to focus on the clit.

“Shane! The road!”

You point out after a moment, realizing he probably didn't look away from you since the panties brushed over your ankles. He doesn't listen, reaching his hand over to your side, trying to touch you.

“Don't-”

You push his hand away, and nod towards the road in front of the car.

“Walsh! You want me to call the cops on you? Watch the damn road!"

You warn, hand never slipping away from your center as you address him directly.

“God- fuck-, god damn it!”

He huffs, slamming his hand into the steering wheel, frustrated as he focuses back on not causing a major car wreck before reaching over and pushing your hand away from your pussy.

“Don't fucking do that then.”

He warns you, and you give him a shocked smirk.

"Or?"

You push your hips forward, the hand immediately back between your legs.

"Hey! What'd I just say, what-"

Shane glances between you and the road, trying to focus on both things at once, but you won't let him win.

"What'd i say?!"

He warns, harsh, loud voice fills the car but, you know him, it doesn't work on you.

Propping your knee on the ledge by the window, you spread your legs open even more, making sure to turn in his direction slightly, wanting him to get the best view possible.

“Oh, I don't know...didn't hear you."

You point out as you continue to rub your fingers over your clit, feeling the warmth between your legs growing more and more the more you touched yourself, but most likely the more he watched you do it. It wasn't the first time you did shit of this sort in the car, but it was the first time you decided to not let touch you, at least not yet. You wanted to tease and get to him, and that's exactly what you wear doing. Judging by the now, completely hard cock staining against the fabric of his jeans, you deserved some praise.

You moan theatrically, earning yourself another “made you look" point before, he glares into the mirror and onto the side of the road.

“I'm pulling over-.”

“Don't!”

You protest.

"Yeah, you think I'm gonna listen to you now?"

He mumbles, eyebrow raised as he glares at you and into the mirror again.

"Think I'm gonna-"

“You pull over, I'll stop. You got that?”

He turns to you quickly one more time, and you know if looks could kill, Shane Walsh would be a murdered right now.

“You're on- real thin ice right now, you know that-”

He warns you, but you manage to cut him off yet again, the wet sounds of your fingers slipping inside you cuts off any sort of communication between his brain and his lips.

You watch the way his knuckles turn white against the steering wheel as you continue to do to yourself, what he wishes he was doing right now, when the car suddenly stops.

The intersection feels like a gift from God when the red light forces him to stop the truck.

Fighting with the buckle of his belt with one hand, he undoes the seatbelt and leans over to your side of the car before ducking down, between your legs. You slip your fingers out and lift your hips up slightly to make it easier while he grunts into you. Your mouth falls open and eyes shut tight when you feel his tongue press hard against your sensitive clit.

“Oh shit- oh shit.”

You push his head harder against you, the short, buzzed hair prickling your palm while he hums loudly, licking up your slick. Digging your nails into his back, you attempt to pull him even closer, feeling the climax building up deep under your bellybutton. You don’t even dare to think about it too much, but to be completely honest, you’re pretty sure, despite the late hour, if someone looked at the car even for a moment, they’d figure out what was going on.

“Shane-”

You half gasp, half moan when the green hue of the streetlight snaps you out of the pleasant moment.

“Fuck- Shane!”

Taping the side of his head with your hand, you attempt to get his attention, but he only lifts his head up once the car behind you hooks impatient.

“Fuuu-”

He pushes his head up, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand quickly before doing his best to frantically get the car in gear before stepping on the gas. Your slick shines on his lips in the lights of the streetlamps while he speeds down the main road, pushing his hand into his boxers at the same time. You watch the fabric move as he strokes his cock again and again and again, biting into your lower lip at the site

“Pull over.”

You finally get the words out, feeling way too close to stop now, but not wanting to come without him.

“I'm fuckin- tryin-”

He almost shouts now, glancing around the car's surroundings.

“Shane…”

You warn, and he catches your hips buck up, pussy clenching around nothing, the last straw.

“Fuck- don't, wait, god fucking-”

The car jerks to the side as he cuts through the two lanes and comes to a sudden stop on a small dirt road off the side of the main one. It's, in no way, secluded, not any more than the main road, but neither of you care enough for that fact to stop you. Not at this point.

You pull your hand away from yourself and Shane yanks his jeans and boxers down, his cocks springing out, hard for you already, before he pushes his seat back enough to make room for you.

“Fuck, fuck f- c'mere darlin' c'mon-“

He grabs onto your arm desperately, helping you throw your leg over the middle of the car, and you wait exactly half a second for him to line his cock up with your entrance before taking him in at the same time as he bucks up into you.

“Oh shit- oh shit, god-fuck!”

He curses under his breath as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate to his size. His hands drop to your hips, under the dress, fingers digging into your ass when you begin to ride him, both of you working on the deep thrusts. You throw your arms over his neck, head falling back slightly, your nails on his back again as you feel his cock drag out of you before pushing in, nudging right under your stomach on the inside.

His lips find yours as the trusts speeds up and so does your breathing. You taste yourself on him and hum into the kiss before he pulls away, pushing his face into your neck with a loud grunt as he feels himself almost falling over the edge now.

“Fuck-fuck- oh shit- “

As his hips speed up even more, he pushes his hand between your bodies, and you feel his fingers on your clit.

A loud moan lets him know they're in the right place, and he scoffs loudly, smiling wide as he watches you fall apart on top of him.

Your climax hits, harder than you've anticipated, definitely harder than what you've expected when you slipped your hand under your dress a couple miles ago, and he lets you ride the high out on his cock before finally letting himself come as well.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck-”

You grip onto his torso as he fucks through your body's post orgasm clenches, listening to the wet sounds filling the car. He grunts, loud, really loud, and you know he's there.

“Ohhhh there he iiiiis. Good boy Walsh!”

You tease immediately after, not really giving him even a second to catch his breath. Resting his forehead against yours, he pants loudly, swallowing hard as he does his best to speak up now.

“Fuck you.”

He mumbles, and you laugh out loud, pressing your lips into his before dragging your hand down his face to clean him up a little bit.

“Again? You wish”

He scoffs loudly this time, rolling his eyes at your words, before wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you even closer to him.

“Think anyone saw us?”

He asks after you sit in silence for a moment, your body rising and falling with his chest, your fingers scratching the back of his neck gently, his hands on your lower back under the fabric of the dress, thumbs brushing softly over your skin.

You shrug, not really sure if it honestly matters much to you.

“The car behind us at the stop light?”

He laughs loudly, looking off to the side, out the window and back at you.

“Yeah, shit. S'what i though too.”

You breathe out a laugh and shrug your shoulders.

“Well, if they did, then…lucky them, I guess.”

Shane nods, approving of your answer with a quiet chuckle, and you smile at the sound.

“Lucky them.”

He repeats before sighing loudly.

“Christ…don't know how we didn't fucking crash.”

He mumbles, holding your hand as you stand up and pull off of his cock before falling back onto your seat before he slowly and gently tucks his cock back into him boxers then pulls his jeans up.

“Should we try the party still?”

He asks, watching you lean down to pick something up from the floor.

“Eeeh I don't know.”

You state, not even turning to face him before hanging your lacy black panties over the mirror before turning to face him again.

“Your choice Walsh. We still have a bit to go."

#shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh smut #jon bernthal #shane walsh fanfiction #jon bernthal fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #jon bernthal smut

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etherealily · 2 months

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𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙽 // 𝙉𝙁𝙅!

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Drugs.

I don't know if this is milder or darker than the previous parts, but I do know that it is LONG.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 4 : Shards

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You're fun and you're wild, but you don't know the half of the shit that you put me through

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TUESDAY, LIBRARY, 4 PM.

"We need to talk."

Suddenly, Carl Jung had never been more interesting, your eyes unable to rip away from the words on the paper in front of them, ignoring Nate as much as possible.

Your shoulder suddenly jerked, and a soft whisper followed. "Hey. We need to talk."

Frowning, your eyes darted between the two Jacobs brothers, the looks on their faces not strict, but the most infuriatingly stoic gazes mankind had ever known.

"You had quite a weekend, right? Anything crazy happen?"

The real question Aaron was asking was whether you were going to talk about it.

"Nope, just lots of psych homework."

"See, this is why I'm telling you to drop Psych. Unnecessary stress.", remarked Nate, his fingers rapping on the table in an almost musical pattern. Almost, because music is art, and there was nothing artistic about the false smile he was giving you.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"How are the rest of classes going?" Small talk?

"Great. Chem is pissing me off, though."

"Eh, well, only nerds are good at Chem, and I don't fuck with nerds. So you're lucky."

Oh, thanks, man. Such an honour.

"Are you good at Chem?"

"I pass."

"Where'd you get time to study? What with all the vapes and parties and quote-unquote 'dozens of bitches'?"

He let out a breathy laugh. "I got good work-life balance.", he replied, leaning on his arms closer to you. His head tilted and you knew something psychotic was about to happen. Well, it was Nate. You knew something psychotic was about to happen the second he walked in.

"I'll bet."

He smiled at that. "Are you my friend, Y/N? Are we friends?"

"I don't think so."

"Good. We're on the same page.", he hissed, moving in closer, glaring at you with the same eyes that had been acting as a dam to his true emotions two nights ago. "You can't tell anyone." His fingers deftly twirled your hair around before tucking it behind your ear.

"About?"

"Saturday."

"How you threw a lamp at me?"

"What you heard about my Dad. What he wanted to... what he said. What you learnt about our family."

"I won't."

"No, seriously, Y/N, don't fucking play with me right now. You'll regret it if you do."

"I'm not playing around, either. I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Good.", sniped Aaron. "'Cause we'll fucking ruin your life if you do."

"Aaron.", whispered Nate, shaking his head. "She already said she wouldn't."

"And you trust her?! She walked in with this polite girl attitude and then when shit got tough, she yelled at you with Mom just a room away. And you told me she wanted to fuck Da-"

"Aaron, shut the FUCK up, okay? She said she isn't going to, so she won't." The glares were back on you, an unwelcome blanket in the heat of tension.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to have to say stuff about you , too."

"Aaron, I said fuckin' drop it."

"No, she gotta know what's at stake, or she's going to take this shit lightly."

You could almost see the vein pop in Nate's head.

"Nate, what... what stuff?"

"It's nothing. Just... we needed incentive.", he muttered, shrugging.

"What incentive?"

"You're buddy-buddy with a drug dealer, Y/N.", he continued, although, to his credit, it seemed with a little reluctance. "And he has access to a lot of shit, right? Who knows if he's ever slipped something into your drink and... y'know."

"What the FUCK? What the FUCK, NATE?"

His idea of incentive was making you a rape victim?!

Being shushed by the librarian solidified your thirst for homicide.

"I mean, you fucked Shane voluntarily, so you're already a fuckin' whore.", he declared, shrugging again as if he was just stating that the sky would be lit up by fireworks on the Fourth of July. "Maybe he just thought it would be easier, without all the playing-hard-to-get-shit. You're close enough that he trusts you to watch over his store."

"You can't FUCKING be serious! FEZCO WOULD NEVER FUCKING-"

"How sad, you're in denial.", tutted Aaron, pouting. "How would you know? He could have used shit stronger than Rohypnol, ya know? Shit that could knock you out cold for hours, and maybe he even called a couple of his trapper buddies-"

Aaron shut up quite quickly when your knuckles met his jaw, but started cussing you out when Nate pulled you off of him. "We're just saying, Y/N, you don't tell anyone the truth of that night, we won't tell them the lies about Fezco."

You pointed your finger at Nate's chest, hoping to god that that would distract him from the rage-induced tears pooling in your eyes.

"You're a fucking coward, Jacobs. With a pervert dad. A fucking coward who can't admit that he has no idea what the fuck he's doing."

"Big words coming from a girl that was raped by her dealer."

OH, someone needs to euthanize this motherfucker.

FUCK. NATE. JACOBS.

TUESDAY, 9PM

Nate had no fucking clue why he was doing this.

He was just drunk, he supposed. Drunk and horny. Average teenage experience.

But it's like.. he could've done anything. ANYTHING else. He could've actually gone to the party, picked up some girl, screwed her into the bed.

But no.

He sat there, scrolling through the fucking SlutPages. For who?Shane's sister, maybe, because of the inexplicable hatred he'd been feeling for him for about a month that he couldn't really think of a reason for? You would think, wouldn't you?

He looked for you.

There was no way you were a virgin. But he should've known there was also no way you were a slut. Or at least, that you were smart enough not to end up there.

He almost fucking threw the phone onto the wall. Fuck.

And you'd blocked him. That was the problem. He couldn't even text you. And he didn't have your fucking phone number, Jesus fucking Christ, he should've gotten it! Relying on something as flimsy as social fucking media was stupid. Idiot.

Wait. Social media.

He quickly slid his chair over to his computer, his hands moving with a pace and mind of their own.

No fucking way would he admit this, but his brother... had some good ideas, once in a while.

When he was fourteen, he'd been wide-eyed, watching through the crack through a door as his older brother -17 at the time- created an account, some random username, some girly bullshit, and then gone Incognito, finding a picture to add.

And then he watched as his brother spent hours poring through pictures of girls - at the time, Nate's seniors- and then suddenly sigh.

"You know, you breathe like fucking Darth Vader?" "What's that?", he'd asked, ignoring that comment and padding over to sit next to him. "This account? I'll tell you, but it- it's like... private brother shit, ok?"

"Shit". What a novel word that was at the time.

"Okay." "Spit-swear it, runt."

He spit-swore. A thing he never fucking did again.

"You can use it. Whenever you're down bad for a chick but you're blocked." "Why would a chick I'm down bad for block me?" "You're so obviously fourteen."

And god fucking damnit, was he.

Not that he was down bad for you. But all he'd say is if this wasn't love, it was pretty fucking close. Why you enthralled him, no clue. You were so easy to rile up, but hard to push too far. You always seemed to be limitless.

He logged in.

Good, the loser, Crestin, posted a story.

Good, you were there in the background.

Great, you were hot.

Bad, you were drinking. Tequila. Wasn't that you and Nate's thing?

Of course, he wouldn't presume to have taken your tequila-V-Card, but he most definitely would have assumed that you'd associate tequila with him. With that night. He'd assumed you'd stay away from it, metaphorically forsaking him in the process.

But no.

Shane's tequila was non-traumatic, and apparently delicious. Ugh.

This simply would not do.

TUESDAY, SHANE'S PARTY, 11PM

"No, NO, GET the FUCK away from me!", you warned, pointing a finger at him. You should've taken his advice and learnt to shoot. "I'm warning you, Jacobs!"

Shane's party was meant to be the one place you could be to avoid Nate, seeing as the host was some sort of Nate-repellent, but NO, you'd just apparently underestimated Nate Jacobs once again.

And here he was, his hand gripping your wrist - just like the rope you wanted to grip his neck - and glaring down at you as if you'd just killed his entire family but he was mildly turned on by it.

"Y/N, just fucking listen! Just- stop causing a scene! Fuckin' LISTEN!", he ordered, grabbing your shoulder with one palm and pointing at you with the other hand, to stop you from writhing away from him.

"You can't just do what you did last week and then expec-"

He kissed you. What did he think this was, fucking Disney Channel?

"NO! NO!", you shouted, shoving him away and secretly hoping for a car to hit him as he stumbled back.

No such luck.

It really was the world according to Nate, wasn't it?

"You know it's okay, right? It's alright."

"What?"

"It's okay to want me.", he informed you, as if he was telling you it was okay to sing in the shower.

Everyone does it. It's like, a thing, relax.

"It's okay.", he continued, "People want what's bad for them all the time.", he murmured, his thumb tracing your lip like he was tracing out a line he wanted so desperately to cross. "It's human nature."

"You think I'm bad for you?"

He took a deep breath, as if he was about to tell you you were terminal. "I think you're good for my soul. Like a baptism without the water." His thumb moved further into your mouth, just barely grazing your teeth.

"Even you have no clue what that meant, admit it."

"It's called effect, Y/N. Drama. Intrigue. Doesn't have to make sense."

You stared up at him, waiting for elaboration, and that earned a huff from him as he looked around at the other people in the front yard - doing lines, making out, throwing up - before turning back to you. "No, honey, I don't think you're bad for me. In fact, I think you're unnecessarily good for me."

"Unnecessarily?"

"As in, I don't need your energy."

"Then why are you so insistent on being around it? 'Cause you want to fuck me?"

"No! Jesus. It's in the name, Y/N. GOOD luck charm. You help me do GOOD in my games. You're good energy."

"What's next? You gonna tell me my birthstone?"

"Oh, shut up.", he chuckled, shaking his head as he moved your jaw from side-to-side in what seemed to be a playful gesture, but at this point, could very well have been him trying to ascertain which cheek to shoot into or something. "You got your licks in. We good?"

"Good? No. NO. We're not good! You threatened someone I love, so no fuckin' way are we good!"

"I know, I know. Aaron wanted me to-"

"BULLSHIT!"

He sighed, as if you were his deranged relative who was climbing up some telephone pole.

"YOU just can't handle the fact that I saw you almost fucking cry! I caught you weak, and that's a power shift, and you don't FUCKING like it, do you?!"

His jaw ticked for a moment, but he managed to let out a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. And then, as if what you said wasn't quite literally exactly what he was feeling, he asked, "Are you done?"

"NO, I'm not fucking done! I still haven't got to the part where you threatened to accuse him of rape, which is a fucking terrible thing to joke about in the first pla-"

"Look, man, I don't have time for this shit, okay? I'm not hurting Fezco! I came here so I could tell you something."

"My GOD, Nate, you made your point! I won't tell anyone!", you groaned, snatching a drink from some already-tipsy guy's hand and downing it.

"That's totally hygienic.", he remarked, eyes finally tearing away from you as you both watched the drunkard stumble over a girl who was getting rid of her lunch and breakfast in the bushes.

"I got new incentive.", he murmured, his forehead against yours, and his thumb rubbing your cheek as if it owned land there.

"What, now you're going make Shane out to be a rapist, too?"

Not a bad idea, actually. The corners of his mouth curled down, and he scanned your face as if he were actually thinking about it, eliciting a tsk from you.

He hid a chortle as he continued. "I'm offering you a deal. You were right, back at the bleachers about the control thing."

He was about to ask you to sell your soul, you could fucking feel it.

"So... you get to control me. For however long you need. Like, a month, a week, whatever. Just don't tell anyone about my family."

Whoa. Plot twist. You did not expect him to sell his soul.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure. So if I asked you to show up to school naked?"

"Yes, I'd show up to school naked for you. But it's funny seeing me naked is your first instinct."

His trust issues were suddenly working out in your favour- he was essentially offering himself up as collateral.

"If I ask you to announce a formal apology to me on a bullhorn before your game?"

"I just want you to leave my family alone, Y/N."

So that's where Nate Jacobs' humanity began. At his family. Noted.

"I promise. I'll do anything." The urge to say 'then die' was strong, but not invincible.

You wracked your brain looking for something you could make this psychopath do that would not cause him immense pleasure.

"Ah, see? Being the one in control isn't all it's cracked up to be. Too much power, and you don't even know what to do with it.", he taunted, pouting as he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead harder against yours. "Think. What is it you want from me?"

What the fuck did you want him to do?

"Do you want an apology? No, 'cause I've already given you plenty and you don't want meaningless things, do you?" His lips lightly touched yours and you could swear he smirked when you flinched on reflex.

But no. That wasn't what you wanted. He was spot-on.

"You want... do you want money? I'm a trust fund baby, essentially, right? My father basically owns the town. Sure, I could hook you up. Royal Enfield, BMW. Or, if you want, Chanel? But that won't cost me anything, at least not emotionally, yeah? So no. That's not it, either."

Why did you suddenly feel like your thoughts were transferring into his head?

"You want me? You want to cut me up, just like I forced you to watch me do to myself? You want to hold a gun to my throat like I did to you? No, because I'd low-key like it."

Yes, he would. So no, you didn't want it.

"C'mon, think. I'm at your mercy, I'm all yours. There's definitely one thing you want and you're just too much of a pussy to say it."

Why were you letting him do this? Why did you just accept that it was the world according to Nate?

"You wanna know what I think, huh? Huh? I'll tell you what I think.", he murmured. "I think you want me to care."

That got your attention. "Care?"

"I think you actually want me to give a shit about you, so you can justify to yourself why you keep lettin' this happen, don'tcha?", he asked, thumb rubbing your jawline. "You want me to stop acting like this whole thing between us is a game. You want me to acknowledge what I'm doing to you."

You hated this. You hated when men were right - it was ridiculous. And you absolutely despised when Nate was right, because it was dangerous.

"Look, I just want you out of my life, Nate.", you lied.

That had come out way too fast. That was the easiest thing he could do. That was the kindest thing you could have ordered him to do. That was mercy.

So why was he acting like you'd just asked him to jump into a fire?

"That's it?"

He didn't buy it. And neither did you. Because yes, you'd technically be very reasonable to want him out of your life. But no, the danger, the unnecessarily sexy amount of mortal peril you'd be in every second that you were around him- it was your fucked up version of heroin.

"I don't think you understand just what you're asking. You're going to miss me."

You scoffed and he shrugged, in a gesture that only seemed pitiful, as though he were allowing you to believe that for the time being.

'Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, baby', you could almost hear him snark.

"What if I miss you?"

You shrugged, downing another shot - one you'd stolen from a drunk girl this time. "I dunno. Just don't."

"You'll still come to games? Fist-bump me?"

"Still come to games? I guess, maybe? I'll high-five you, or something."

"I'll think it over." Wait, wasn't he the one who was making an offer?

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He found you almost fifteen minutes later, probably after mulling it over with a drink.

"I accept your terms. I'll go out of your life, starting Monday. However, I've got a little som'n som'n to show you.".

An AK-47? An atom-bomb? A grave he dug specially for you?

"It's a surprise. Only an hour. That's all I'm asking."

Only your sanity. That's all he was asking.

You'd promised yourself you'd never take anything from Nate Jacobs again, and you'd stuck to it.

I mean.

That was until he'd offered you molly.

Molly made you happy.

Molly made you forget stuff, like college apps, the loss of your internship and the fact that you'd basically been lying to your family the entirety of last week about the scar on your forehead.

But how he'd found that out was a question for the ages. And he seemed to know exactly what molly did to you.

And you best believe he was milking it.

"I want to get a tattoo."

"Okay...?"

"Correction : I want us to get a tattoo.", he whispered, before tsk-ing at your derisive snort. "C'mon, you get to draw whatever you want on me and I'll get it tattooed, I promise!"

"Tattoos are permanent, Nate."

"And you know what? So am I. In your life. In your head. On your lips.", he reminded, grinning mischievously, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.

You barely fought against him - the ecstasy sprinting through your blood vessels - and you found yourself lying back on the grass, his hands bracketing your hair.

"Just fucking draw something on me, Y/N. Come on. And I'll draw something on you. Yeah? Sound good?", he asked, his hand creeping up your shirt with surprising reverence.

He chuckled breathily against your lips, shaking his head as he rolled off you, lying next to you.

"I'll draw something nice and meaningful. And you get to, as well. Nothing cheesy, though. Like a fucking arrow-heart or an anchor or some shit."

"How about a star?"

"What, a star is not cheesy? That's the cheesiest thing ever. That's the pussy tattoo.", he muttered, before looking up at your eyes, sighing magnanimously. "What kind of star?"

"The ones that are hard to draw. With all the lines."

"Really, Y/N? I give you the chance to mark my body up and you want the hardest thing to draw from second grade?"

"Where'd you want it?"

"Where will you be willing to touch me?"

That was a million dollar question. Willing is a very subjective term.

"Neck. Under my ear."

You nodded, taking the pen he'd brought and gently tracing out a couple stars under his neck. He played with some of your hair that had fallen in front of his face, with terrifying dedication, as you did so. "Yeah. Done. You actually getting this tattooed?"

"Now you.", he ordered, grabbing your wrist, not answering the question. Red flag number eleven thousand. The pen lid in his mouth and a focused furrow to his brow, he began drawing.

"Infinity symbol.", he informed you, before you could even ask.

"Why?"

"I dunno. It's meaningful. 'To infinity and beyond'. Favourite Disney Movie, right?"

"That is not my favourite-"

"Yeah, well, it's mine. Buzz Lightyear is like, my hero.", he muttered, rubbing his thumb over the drawing and then kissing it softly, all while looking at you.

"Really? You seem like a Big Hero 6 guy to me."

He laughed deeper. "You always take me so seriously."

"Fuuuck, I know I'm not supposed to say this..."

He lolled his head over to you. "You could tell me you're Ted Bundy reincarnate and I'd still smash."

You decided to ignore that comment. "I'm not supposed to say this, but... but I get why Rue did it. Like Jesus fucking Christ."

He nodded in understanding, looking at the tiny packet that still had a couple pills in it. "She was just too weak to limit herself. But we got no limits. You got infinity on your wrist."

"Look, Nate, I can't tattoo that shit. My family would kill themselves."

"Same."

"Then why did you-"

"We're gonna do something that could go either way. It could either freak you out or turn you on. On the off chance that it's both, then we're more similar than you realize.", he slurred, lazily brushing hair behind your ear. "'Kay?"

"What are we gonna do?", you asked, trying your hardest to pull away, but the ecstasy made you genuinely defenceless against human touch. And it didn't help that Nate was holding your arms tightly down on the ground, as if he were trying to plant roots.

"We're going to carve the tattoos."

He said it so conspiratorially. As though this was your secret to surviving the zombie apocalypse. And his fucking eyes. Glowing like fireworks. Glowing like a child finally being told he could get what he wanted for Christmas.

"WHAT?!"

He licked his lips with an almost roll of his eyes as he looked up at you, because you were so clearly overreacting, right? Slitting your own skin in the shape of an infinity on it was a perfectly normal teenage activity. Of course. Drinking, smoking, fucking, slicing.

"I'll do it. I'm experienced, as you know.", he scoffed, his lips at your shoulder now. "We only have about fifteen minutes left of your curfew, Y/N, please. Please? Play nice."

The molly was clouding your senses, clearly. You could tell because a) you were still having this conversation and b) you didn't even question how he knew what time your curfew was, and c) you hadn't punched him yet.

"Think about it, it's less permanent than a tattoo, baby, please."

And then he placed another one of those little pink pills on your tongue, pressing down and forcing you to swallow.

MONDAY.

The scream came too late to your liking.

You'd tried to scream faster, but everything had come rushing back to you. The fever dream was not a dream. It's always relieving when terrible 'realities' end up only being dreams. It's a different kind of terror when you realize that the nightmare was real.

The number eighteen was etched on your wrist like a pathetic mark, like... like a brand.

You couldn't even begin to figure out just what the fuck that was supposed to be. Eighteen? How was that meaningful? The year it becomes legal to have sex? Freedom, maybe? Joy?

He wanted this aneurysm in your head. He'd placed it there.

FUCK !

FRIDAY.

"What? What is it you want?!"

He frowned, his face softening out of genuine confusion, make him look almost comically harmless in the harsh stadium lighting. "You said you'd still fist-bump me."

"What does 18 mean?"

He shrugged, holding out his fist. You rolled your eyes, bumping it with your own. And then, after telling yourself you were imagining the ghost of a smirk on his lips, you froze. Because he'd turned, running off to the middle of the field. You saw his back.

His jersey. 18. FUCK. He blew you a kiss about two seconds before the ball was passed to him. 18. FUCK.

"Did you just fist-bump Nate?"

"Yeah."

"Why?", asked Maddy, scoffing softly.

"He was talking to me about the project and then he said he had to go, so I wished him luck and... I guess I fist-bumped him."

"Oh, yeah, ew, the project. How's that going?"

"I scrapped it."

"Why?", she questioned, after shaking her pom-poms and screaming out some over-enthusiastic cheer.

"I don't fucking like him. At all. He's a DICK."

"What? No way. I had no idea.", she muttered sardonically, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "But was it, like, really bad?"

You nodded.

"After the game, you wanna do molly?"

"No." The reply was almost immediate.

"You don't wanna do molly? Don't bullshit me. Shut up. You're doing it with me."

You'd have hugged Maddy for knowing you so well if you weren't so focused on the big, blue, number 18 running on the field, matching the big, red one staying still on your wrist.

FRIDAY, 9PM

Staying over at Maddy's was an offer you shouldn't have declined, because it was getting genuinely infuriating how Nate found out things.

You were still extremely lacking in sobriety when he'd crawled into your bed that night, covering your mouth to make sure you didn't scream. How? Million dollar question.

"You want me to tell you a secret?"

"A secret? Wait, not some bullshit about my lips that you came up with?"

"I listened to Queen."

You sat up. "WHAT?"

He chuckled, sitting up as well and tilting his head while resting it on his knees. "What? Elvis, too. I even watched Blue Hawaii. I low-key liked it. Why? Would it have changed your mind?"

You frowned for a moment, before shaking your head. "Still would've been nice to know."

"Okay, how about you just kiss me now, Rue 2.0?", he asked, tracing out the number eighteen on your wrist before looking up at you through slightly furrowed brows. That was a challenge, of sorts, that gaze.

"You have something to ask me." Didn't take a genius to figure it out. Insinuation was painted all over his face. He had an accusation and he needed you to defend it.

"When Shane fucked you, where'd he come?"

You frowned, staring at him for a moment. "Yo, I- what? Where is this coming from?"

"At practice he was saying he fucked you."

"He's a dickwad, of course he did."

"It doesn't bother you that he's spreading that shit?"

"If I paid attention to every rumour some butthurt, fragile-ego jock spread about me, I wouldn't have time to fucking study."

"Your reputation's gone, though. That's fine for you?"

You sucked on your teeth for a moment before exhaling. "You're here to find out if I'm easy?"

He looked at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"If I did this, Y/N, would you stop me?", he asked, shifting to his knees at the foot of the bed. "Hm? If I just...", he trailed off, kissing up your knee to your thigh.

"Nate. Stop."

"That's not stopping me.", he murmured, gripping your back and yanking you closer.

You kicked him away, grimacing. "Get out."

He gazed up at you, and for a moment there, it seemed like he was rooting for you, for the rumours to just be cruel rumours and not true.

"Get OUT!"

"You can't let me kiss you and then just... it doesn't work like that."

The world looked glittery and he looked godly kneeling down there.

His tongue licked slowly up your inner thigh. "C'mon. Take it off. It's just me."

"Get out."

He rolled his eyes, yanking your shorts down himself. "I fucking...", he murmured, voice muffled against your skin. "Love you."

"You don't fucking love me!" You were struggling but it was fruitless.

"I could."

"Get out, I'm not bullshitting."

"C'mon.", he murmured, reaching up to unhook your bra before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "C'mon."

"No! Get off!" His hand held you down.

"Just let me-", he muttered, his fingers finally removing your underwear as he pressed a chaste kiss higher up your thigh. Your breath hitched and his smirk widened, albeit, with a bit of disappointment. "There we go."

Kicking him away, you finally snapped. Maybe it was the molly. Maybe it was his tongue. Maybe it was the fact that he'd somehow found out that molly made you make extremely bad decisions. Maybe it was the fact that he knew you wanted nothing more than to fuck him that night.

"GET THE FUCK OUT, NATE! YOU SAID YOU'D LEAVE ME ALONE MONDAY, IT'S FRIDAY! GET THE FUCK OUT, PLEASE!" He took every kick and every punch like a total champ, you'd give him that.

The disappointment left, and he smiled, softly, caringly, like a mother hanging up her child's drawing on the fridge, as he wiped your tears away.

Standing up, he grabbed your hair, staring into your eyes so deeply you were half-wondering if they'd changed colour, before patting your shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

Proud for disproving a rumour?

You watched his shadow on your wall as it climbed down the window behind you.

Look, one thing could be said. Nate Jacobs was a man of his word. He did not speak to you. He did not text you. He did not acknowledge you.

You'd blocked him online and he'd blocked you in real life.

However, his other account still kept tabs on you.

Average social media interaction.

Shane Crestin ended up in the ER later that night.

Average Nate Jacobs interaction.

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wannabespacesmuggler · 3 months

Text

D.D. | Shane's Girl

Part Seven | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!Reader

Warnings: Merle Dixon sucks, unedited (I will get to it later, I promise)

Word Count: 1.1K

Author’s Note: SO, your boy's a blue-collar worker currently struggling through increased heat and hours during the summer, but I love this fic and no matter how much time passes I will continue to come back to this guy. Let me know what y'all think of this one & let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist. And thank you for your continued support for this lil fic -- it means the world to me.

“Tonight’s the night, little brother.”

Merle’s voice tears through the silence in their makeshift camp. Daryl peers up at Merle from his crouched position -- the younger Dixon had been going through their food supply before Merle came storming in. Daryl rolls his eyes at the interruption. Although he’s known his brother his entire life, it always surprises him how different the two are. All he’s heard his entire life is: those Dixon brothers, two sides of the same coin. However, where Daryl is reserved, Merle is intrusive, and where Daryl is observant, Merle is careless. Although the two brothers are cut from the same backwoods cloth, they seem to have less in common than one would think.

Daryl ignores his brother’s outburst, returning his attention to their limited rations. He lets out a frustrated sigh before strategizing.

“We’re running low on food. I’ll go out hunting tomorrow. Rest of the group is headed out to scavenge the city; might wanna join ‘em.”

Merle brushes past Daryl, snatches the last bag of jerky from their pile of food, and begins chowing down in front of his younger brother. Daryl furrows his brow at his brother’s actions. Before he can lash out at him for being so irresponsible with their rations, Merle speaks up.

“Won’t have to worry ‘bout any of that after tonight.”

Daryl’s head cocks to the side as he tears his attention away from their inventory and now focuses intently on his brother.

“The hell are you on about?”

Merle rolls his eyes at Daryl’s question as if the younger Dixon should be able to read his mind.

“We’ve been ‘er long enough. I say we wait til everyone’s asleep tonight and take everything we can.”

Daryl shrinks at the thought of just robbing the camp blind. Merle had mentioned the idea during their first night at the quarry; however, Daryl figured, as days passed, that the older Dixon brother had decided against the idea. Apparently, Daryl was wrong.

“I don’t know, man.”

Daryl’s apprehension seems to only rile his brother up more.

“C’mon little brother, everything they have is just sitting in that camper -- it’s like they’re begging us to take it!”

Daryl shakes his head at his brother’s words. They can’t -- he can’t. He doesn’t want that weighing on his guilty conscience for the rest of his numbered days. The world may have ended, but Daryl hasn’t lost his humanity yet. He can’t steal from children, or families, or you. He pushes himself off the floor before responding.

“Nah, man. Not now.”

Daryl attempts to brush past Merle, leaving the conversation there; however, Merle roughly pushes against Daryl’s chest. Daryl staggers for a second before regaining his balance. He looks incredulously at his brother, who seems to be champing at the bit. Merle’s always been impatient, and he’s never liked to stay in one place for too long, even before the end of the world. On the other hand, Daryl knows there’s safety in numbers nowadays -- who knows how long the two of them would be able to make it on their own? And what of the quarry camp -- would they just leave them to turn on themselves?

“This was always the plan, Daryl. What’s changed, huh?”

“Your plan sucks, man. We don’t even know what’s out there -- how many of ‘em are out there! At least here we’re safe.”

His reasoning does nothing to calm down Merle. Daryl is suddenly very glad that the two brothers were so far away from the rest of the camp -- the last thing he wants is for Merle to make scene, again.

“What you making friends while I’m gone? You going soft on me?”

“Fuck off, Merle.”

Merle doesn’t take the bait, instead, he studies his younger brother’s face for a second. Suddenly, it’s as if a switch has been flipped as Merle’s face breaks out into a shit eating grin.

“You are going soft on me.”

It comes out as a statement, not a question. This only causes Daryl’s brow to furrow deeper.

“What are you talking about?”

“This is all about that bitch, right?”

Daryl’s blood boils at Merle’s question. His jaw locks, and his fists clench as he attempts to stop himself from throwing himself at his older brother. Merle seems to be enjoying how his words make Daryl’s skin crawl.

“Little brother, I never thought you’d be one to go after a taken woman.”

Daryl knows that Merle is just trying to get a rise out of him; he just wants a reaction. And as much as his words are pissing him off, Daryl knows that he simply has to act indifferent to his accusation.

“You could take her with us. Could use something fun on the road.”

Daryl grinds his teeth together at the thought, but he will not give Merle the satisfaction of causing an outburst from his younger brother.

“Shut up, Merle.”

“Can’t believe some bitch has already got you whipped.”

Finally, something in Daryl snaps as Merle sneers at him. He gets up in Merle’s face, attempting to intimidate his older brother, but he doesn’t back down.

“This ain’t got nothin’ to do with her. She don’t mean nothing to me!”

Daryl expects him to escalate the fight; however, Merle’s face shifts into that shit-eating grin once again as his eyes land on something behind Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl turns to face whatever has piqued Merle’s interest, his curiosity getting the better of him, and his stomach drops as his eyes land on you. Daryl’s face immediately softens as he notices the hurt etched into your features. Without a word, you turn and head back toward camp.

“Wait… damn it.”

As much as Daryl wants to race after you and explain, he lets you go, knowing he’d just hurt you more -- he’s still seething from his confrontation with Merle, and you’re probably still processing what you just overheard.

“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?”

Daryl ignores his brother’s question and moves to retire to their tent for the night, but Merle sidesteps, stopping him in his tracks. Before Daryl can question his motives, Merle speaks.

“I did you a favor, little brother.”

Daryl looks at his brother in disbelief.

“All I did was show her who you truly are.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

Daryl pushes past him and enters their tent. He wants to blame Merle for what just happened, but he’s the one who lost his temper. And he only lost his temper because Merle was right. He can’t rob the camp and then sneak away in the middle of the night because that means he’d have to leave you behind -- and he just can't do it. Not after you opened up to him about Shane. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he lays down his worn sleeping bag. What do you think of him now? Is he just another asshole to you, like Shane or Merle? He wants to think he’s better than that.

But maybe Daryl is wrong.

Maybe the Dixon brothers really are two sides of the same bad-tempered, jagged coin -- but that won’t stop him from trying to prove the opposite, as long as you let him.

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#twd #The Walking Dead #walking dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #Rick Grimes #shane walsh #merle dixon #glenn rhee #lori grimes #the walking dead imagine #walking dead imagine #Norman Reedus #norman reedus imagine #norman reedus x reader

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darlingshane · 11 months

Text

Todo Tuyo (All Yours)

Pairing: Criminal!Shane Walsh x Spanish!Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Some bonds are unable to explain, and yours with Shane has always been a mystery. No matter how many times he's hurt you, you always ended up taking back his sorry ass. This time, after three years gone, when he comes back, you're married and pregnant. And not even that can challenge that bond.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Heavy Angst, Smut, Pregnancy Kink, Breeding Kink, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Complicated Relationships, DV, Abuse, Mention of drugs and violence, bittersweet ending.

Word Count: 10.9k

— Read below or at AO3.

A/N: A few important things you should know before reading since I couldn't sum it all up:

— The DV and Abuse warnings don't apply to Shane. — Reader's husband is the abuser. — This is kind of a Dark!Shane version, but he's soft for reader, I promise! — I wrote this as a Spanish!Speaking Reader. — Shane is fluent in Spanish. He learned for her. — I tried to keep Spanish down to a few sentences only, but I translated them all in (bold, italic parenthesis like this). — I won't be translating however all the pet names, just when I need to. But for reference – Shane calls reader 'Corazón' (it means heart, it's the equivalent of Sweetheart) and Reader calls Shane 'Cielo' (it means sky, and it's just like Sweetheart or Honey.)

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You only cracked the door as far as the chain on the lock let you. Through it, you could only see half of your ex-boyfriend's face shadowed under a worn-out baseball cap from Jim’s Body Shop. A handful of curls stuck out on the sides. His chin had a nice shadow from a three-day stubble, and the bags below his eyes gave away that he had been up for longer than he should have. He was still the hottest motherfucker you’ve ever laid your eyes on. No matter how much time had passed since the last time you saw him, Shane Walsh aged just like wine and all you wanted to do is pour yourself a cup of that.

That’s how strong was his hold on you.

You didn't have to be a genius to see that he wanted something from you. That was his MO, he only showed up when he was in trouble and had no one to turn to but poor old sucker you, who never had the guts to kick him to the curb.

“I need a place to stay for a couple of nights,” he said under a breath.

“Things have changed. You can’t stay here this time.”

“Look, I know it's been a while but–”

“A while?” you scoffed. “It's been three years, Shane.”

“I know that. But I don't really have anywhere else to go right now. I drove all the way from Wyoming just to see you. One night. That’s all I'm asking, Corazón. I won't get in your hair. I promise.”

You hated saying no to him, even after all this time. Even after all the times he's let you down, you couldn’t stand seeing him hurt with nowhere to go, but this time there was nothing you could do to help him. Except…

“I could get you a room at The Sennott for half off. If you need money…”

“No, keep your money. I'll work something out. Could I…”

“What?”

“Before I go, you think I could have a cup of coffee with you?”

You shook your head as his face leaned closer to the door frame.

“C'mon, baby, just one for old times,” his plush lips barely mumbled.

You caught a glimpse of those big, sad puppy eyes of his he pulled off so well. Whether it was genuine, it didn’t matter. The fact is that it worked like a charm and against your better judgment, you sighted, unlatched the chain and welcomed him into your home.

After all that time gone, you still had a soft stop from him, and you doubt that’ll ever change. Alas, he’d always be the man you’ve loved the most. That sucks for you and for him. Cause he has a tendency to disappear on you when you most need him, and after the last time, you decided that you wouldn't be waiting for him anymore.

“Wow, you’re pregnant,” taking off his cap, his eyes grew wide when he stepped inside the house.

“No me digas.” (You don’t say.)

It was hard to miss. You were seven months along already and couldn’t even believe it happened so fast.

Your palm drew the curve of your rounded belly over the t-shirt you were wearing. The hem barely touched the top of your thighs, and that’s where he looked next.

“You always had beautiful legs, Corazón,” he smirked, placing the backpack he was carrying on a chair.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” you turned around and thought about all those times your thighs were wrapped around his head while he ate your pussy.

“It never did,” Shane scoffed, fixing his messed up curls.

You picked up the carafe from the machine, filled a mug with coffee without even bothering with heating it up.

“Five minutes. He’ll be here soon,” you said firmly, handing over the mug.

“I’ve always liked it cold anyway,” he lifted the cup up to his lips as you leaned on the counter. “You’re not having any?”

“It’s not good for the baby.”

“Oh, right.”

“What have you been up to, anyway?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Not really,” you crossed your arms and paused. “I guess I thought I deserved to know why you didn’t come back when you said you would. I saw Rick a few months ago and said he hadn’t heard of you in a while… led me to believe you were dead.”

“Shit happens.”

“Shit happens? Me lo merezco por preguntar,” you couldn’t hide the frustration in your tone. (I deserve that for asking.)

“I thought you’d be over me.”

“I am.”

“Ain't seem like it.”

“Mira, cabrón,” you showed him the ring around your finger, and pointed once more at your pregnant stomach. “I’m completely over you.” (Look, bastard.)

“That doesn’t prove shit. Looks like you wanted to one-up me, and move on as fast as possible so next time I’d show up, you’d have an excuse to throw me away.”

“Yeah, maybe. Doesn’t mean that I’m not over you.”

“You were always a terrible liar, you know that? Do you even love the poor sucker?”

“Why do you care?”

“Cause we both know, that no matter how much you hate me, you’d never love anyone as you love me.”

“That’s bullshit, Shane.”

“Sabes que es verdad, Corazón. You also know that no man would ever care for you like I do.” (You know that’s true, sweetheart.)

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be leaving every five minutes. You think you can just come here like nothing happened?”

“It's worked before.”

“It’s too late now.”

“Is it?”

He took one more sip from his coffee before placing the mug on the breakfast bar and going around it to have you closer.

As your stare fell to the floor, he noticed the bruise on your temple.

“Hey, what happened here?” he lifted his hand to your face and gently touched it.

“Nothing,” you swatted his hand away, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I hit my head with the cabinet last night.”

“Did he hit you?” His brow knitted.

“I told you. It was the cabinet.”

“Hey, mírame,” he placed a finger under your chin, and tilted up to capture your watery eyes. “Dime la verdad. ¿Te ha puesto la mano encima?” (Hey, Look at me. // Tell me the truth. Did he lay his hand on you?)

“Tienes que irte.” (You gotta go.)

“¿De qué tienes miedo, Corazón?” (What are you afraid of, Sweetheart?)

“No tengo miedo de nada… You just can’t be here when he comes back.” (I’m not afraid of anything…)

“Alright, I’ll go if that’s what you want, but I need to do something first,” he lifted his hand up to your face and framed your chin.

“Shane… don’t…”

“Sh, sh, it’s okay,” he said under a breath, placing his thumb gently on your lips.

“Please,” You weakly pleaded, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to stop what was about to happen.

His tongue swiped across his lips, and the next second they were gently pressed against yours.

Your eyes welled up and quickly shed a few tears upon that first initial contact. It didn’t take much to get you under his spell once more, for the umpteenth time. No matter how many times you’ve tried to convince yourself how fucking toxic he is, you fell for it every damn time like an idiot. It didn’t matter that you were married either, as bad as it sounds, what you and Shane had was something that couldn’t be stopped by any means. Only death could put an end to it. It didn’t help either that you weren’t on the best of terms with your husband either, so guilt went out the door the moment you let Shane in.

Unable to pull away, you let him deepen the kiss and invade your mouth with his tongue. He went slow and tender. That’s how it always started, he’d play on your good side, and once your defenses were down he’d go in full swing. He’d breathe in your air, soak in the taste of your mouth, take all the space until you were left breathless.

You linked your arms around his neck, and kissed him back, following the sweet undoing of his familiar lips as they fused tightly with yours.

When he tried to press himself closer to your body, your pregnant belly got on the way.

One of his palms tenderly landed on top of your stomach and drew the big curve that was keeping him away from you. Your heart fluttered as the small gesture.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are like this?” he broke the kiss, and looked down at his hand, while your head responded with a faint shake. “Eres preciosa, mi vida. I’d’ve put a baby in you before if that’s what you wanted.” (You’re gorgeous, my life.)

“I know, that’s why I never asked,” you placed your palm on top of his roughed-up knuckles. “Have you beaten up someone?”

“Something like that.”

“You’ll never change. Will you?”

“I could if you ask me.”

“You are who you are, Cielo. I can’t ask you that, and you can’t change for me.”

“Cielo. I missed that,” his face beamed, framing your tummy with both hands and dipped to kiss your forehead.

“One more for the road?” You held his face, and it was you this time the one capturing his mouth.

You kissed him as if this was the last time you’d ever see him. You needed something to hold onto. It was so fucking naive of you that he’d ever change or settle. He had another mistress, one that had no lips or body or soul that led him to the darkest of paths far away from yours. It was impossible to compete with that. Until he was ready to let that life go, there’ll be no future between the two of you.

Maybe one day, you kept hoping as you basked in the swirl of his tongue. He was so fucking needy and hungry for you, it became desperate. He panted in your mouth, had trouble catching his breath cause all he wanted to do is swallow you all.

His hands moved to your ass, gripped hard at your flesh. You wish you had the power to stop all that at once. You could, but you wanted him just as much. Your hormones were not helping either. They only fueled the flame that was still clearly alive between you.

You moaned in his mouth, as the sloppy doing of his tongue drove you out of your mind. One of his hands reached further down your bottom, slipping between your thighs to feel the dampness pooling on your underwear. He always knew how to get you wet with just a kiss, but this was something else entirely. You were sopping wet. He could feel your juices seeping through the fabric.

“Say that you don’t want me again, I dare you,” he drawled with a shit-eating grin.

“Shut up. I need you to fuck me,” you sucked in his lower lip hard between your teeth, tugged it, and let it go when it was bright pink.

He scoffed at your request, not of mockery but pride of being still able to incite you like that.

“We don’t have much time. You have to do it fast,” you warned and turned around, pushing your panties down to your ankles as he undid his belt and fly.

“Your wish is my command, Corazón.”

Shane quickly pulled out his cock. It was half hard.

Biting on your lip, you glanced over your shoulder to see him jerking himself off up to a firmer completion.

You stuck your butt out and propped your forearms on the hard surface of the counter, as Shane guided his cock oh so carefully between your tender lips.

“I’ve never fucked a pregnant woman before. I don't wanna hurt you,” he confessed in your ear as his hardness stroked just a little further into your walls.

“Don’t overthink it. Baby’s safe. Just fuck me like always.”

“Hmm,” he followed your order and after a couple of experimental thrusts, the pace of his hips skyrocketed to a punishing level that felt like heaven and hell rising at the same time between your legs. He kept your hips locked in his hands, fingers digging in your flesh as you tucked one of your hands between your legs to feel your juices leaking all over your legs and floor. It was like nothing else you’ve ever felt. Most of it was partially hormonal, the other part was a mix of being touch-starved from your husband, and missing Shane, and his cock like crazy.

You rubbed your clit and all of a sudden one of his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt at the front to feel your breasts.

“Fuck, you’re so big and juicy, mi vida,” he grunted, squeezing your overly-sensitive, pebbled nipple that felt like a rock between his fingers. His face leaned closer to whisper in your ear. “I’d put another baby in there if I could. You’d like that?”

“God, I would love that,” you moaned, throwing your head back against his shoulder. “Come inside me, mi amor.”

“Yeah? Tell me you love me, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I love you, Cielo,” you gasped as he removed your hand from your pussy to replace it with his own. “I fucking love you and your big cock. Please. Hmm, fuck… fuck, fu…”

“There, mi vida.”

You felt your soul being pulled out of your body when the winning push forced a torrent of pleasure that traveled over your body as your opening contracted around his dick. You went up so high, so fast, you almost didn’t feel when he shot his load.

When he slipped out of you, you quickly went down to pull on your panties back in place. You almost felt embarrassed at the mess that you made on the floor and all over the cabinets below the counter if it didn’t feel that good.

“You really have to go now,” placing a palm on his chest, you glanced out the window, knowing that your husband wouldn’t take much longer now.

“I wanna see you again.”

Your eyes welled up. “We can’t do this again, Shane. If he finds out…”

“Please,” he pleaded over and over in between a trail of desperation and kisses peppered all over your face and neck. “I can’t live without you, mi amor, mi cielo, mi corazón. Te necesito.” (My love, my sky, my heart. I need you.)

“Shit. Alright,” you paused to collect your thoughts. “Come tonight. After ten. He’ll be gone the whole weekend. If there’s a truck on the driveway you turn away.”

“Got it.”

“Leave your car at the end of the street, you walk all the way here, and come at the back. ¿Entendido?” you pointed at the back door in your kitchen. (Got it?)

“Alto y claro.” (Loud and clear.)

“C’mere, Cielo,” you wrapped your arms tightly around him, and inhaled the smell of his neck for a long moment before sending him in his way.

You went into the bathroom to clean yourself up and saw his seed had dripped from your pussy to your panties. It was still warm and wet. You dabbed your fingers on it and shamelessly brought it to your lips to remember how his cum tasted. Then you pushed those same fingers into your opening to pick up the remains of you and him and licked every bit of it off your digits.

You hated that he had turned you into this mess of a woman that couldn’t ever resist him. Some bonds are unable to explain, and as much as you hated him, you loved him even more than you thought.

As you wiped your legs and changed your underwear, you felt the roaring of your husband’s truck pulling up the driveway before stomping into the house. You hurried to clean up the mess in the kitchen. You could tell it smelled like sex, but Clayton had been drinking as usual, and his senses were shot by the stench of alcohol.

You really knew how to pick them. First Shane, then Clayton. To be fair, Clay was a completely different person when you met him. It wasn’t until a few months ago that he lost his job, and you got pregnant that he started showing his true colors. While Shane, you always knew what you were in for cause he was always the same person from beginning to end, he never hid what he was.

Every other weekend Clay went to a cabin up in the mountains with a group of friends to hunt and whatever the hell they did cause hardly you ever saw anything brought back from those alleged hunting trips. He just brought more dirty clothes soaked in booze and muddied boots. Lately, you didn't even care. You actually preferred when he was gone cause it got him out of the house and those weekends away were the only times you could breathe.

For all that he had put you through, you didn’t feel guilty in the slightest from doing what you did with Shane. God knows Clay would probably be fucking around. You were sure of it cause one, he hand’t touch you since you told him you were pregnant; and two you weren't blind or deaf either, and had caught him talking overly friendly, like he used to talk to you at the beginning, over the phone a couple of times when he thought you were asleep.

“Did you have coffee?” Clay picked up the mug with coffee grounds that Shane left on the counter. “You shouldn’t drink it.”

“I didn’t have any. I had a friend over earlier and I forgot to clean it up.”

“You know how I feel about having people in my house when I’m not here.”

“It’s my house actually,” you pointed out. “What? Are you gonna forbid me from having friends over now?”

You knew you shouldn't poke the bear when it was drunk, but sometimes your mouth ran faster than your brain.

“We're married, remember? What's yours is mine and all that shit. Don't forget that, bitch.”

God, you had to refrain so hard from punching his face.

As you headed out of the kitchen to avoid getting yourself further into trouble, he grabbed your arm, stopping you from leaving.

“I am your husband. And this is my house. You'd be nothing without me. Show some respect.”

“Men who hurt their wives, their pregnant wives, don't deserve any respect,” you snarled. “Now let me go before you do something you might regret later.”

He looked at you with sharp steel eyes, clutching your arm so hard it felt like he might snap it in half. He wanted to hit you so badly, you could tell, like the night before when he swung the remote across your face when you accidentally knocked over his beer.

You held his stare just as defiantly, and pulled your arm free from his grasp. It left a mark that turned into a bruise quickly after.

Staying out of his way, you went into the nursery and sat down with a book on the armchair to read while he gathered his hunting supplies. You heard him heating up some leftovers and showering before leaving.

All you could think when you listened to his truck drive off was seeing Shane again. You had a couple of hours left to get ready. It was a safe window for you to know that your husband was up in the mountains and wouldn't be coming back till Sunday. You followed his friend's updates on Instagram to keep track of him. Trent was an avid poster, and it was the perfect way to keep tabs on him to avoid the imminent disaster of him finding you with your ex.

You took a shower and changed the sheets of your bed, so they wouldn't smell like Clayton. You were dead set on banging Shane in your bed. Technically, he had fucked you many times before, pretty much in every room of this house but never in your new marital bed. It really excited you thinking about it. You wished you had more time to go to the mall to purchase some sexy lingerie that fitted your pregnant body.

God, Shane really knew how to turn you into an idiot.

In the end, it didn't matter what you wore cause it wouldn't stay on for long. You opted for wearing a pair of lacy panties that you could still fit, but the matching bra didn't stand a chance against your new boobs. You put on a flannel shirt instead, and buttoned a couple of buttons that allowed for your generous cleavage to be the center of attention.

You took off your ring as well and hid it in one of the drawers of your nightstand.

When you finished fixing your hair you went around the house and drew all the curtains for privacy. Then you finally got to relax for a while. You checked Trent's Instagram to make sure they had arrived at the cabin. Exactly like you predicted, he documented the whole thing.

Waiting for Shane, you watched TV and ate some food. When you looked at the clock it was twenty minutes past ten. He couldn't be far, right? You built yourself up to the idea of meeting him again, that’d be disappointing if he didn’t come.

For ten more minutes, you started to believe you shouldn’t have put that much effort until you heard a soft knocking on the back door.

“Empezaba a creer que habías cambiado de idea,” you said, letting him in, and securing the lock on the door. (I was starting to think you changed your mind.)

“When have I ever disappointed you, mi vida?” As you took his hand, you gave him a look, and he scoffed, “don’t answer that.”

“I’m just glad you came back.”

“Fuck! Look at you, Corazón,” his eyes traveled down your body when you turned to him. “You wanna give me a heart attack?”

Taking that as a win, you grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulled firmly towards you to have his lips crash against yours. Then you took him to the bedroom and as you were about to capture his mouth again, Shane stopped you.

“Hold on,” he put some distance between the two of you. “I need to get a good look at you.”

He took off his shirt and tossed aside, as he circled around your body, committing to memory the new curves of your body. When he stood in front of you, you took a closer look at his exposed chest and gulped at the sight of your name tattooed in delicate lettering over his left pec.

“You got that for me?” you traced it with a finger.

“Si, Corazón.”

Your stomach fluttered as his fingers undid the two buttons of your shirt and pushed it off your shoulders to uncover your breasts and baby bump.

“You’re gorgeous like this, mi vida,” the flannel shirt fell to the floor as the back of his knuckles brushed the side of your heavy breast before holding one of them in his hand. It was way larger than his palm he realized, he used to be able to hold it all, now your flesh puffed up between his fingers when he squeezed. “You’re so sensitive.” He noticed your nipples getting hard with just a light touch.

“You can’t even imagine,” you laughed.

“How about here?” Shane guided his other hand between your legs to feel that you were already wet.

You hummed at the soft strokes of his fingers as they slid under the elastic to caress your tender skin. His lips parted at the corner of your mouth as he gathered the arousal from your folds. Your lips down there were puffed too from all the blood gathering all at your core.

“Lay down, I wanna eat you up, Darlin’.”

He bit his bottom lip and watched you following his order. You slipped your panties off under the dark stare of his beautiful eyes that had turned from sweet to a dangerous edge that could set anyone on fire.

You tucked a few pillows beneath your back to keep the weight of your belly off your spine, and reclined as comfortably as you could, spreading your legs wide for him like an offering.

With a grin, he propped a knee on the bed and looked at your cunt as if it was the most precious thing he’s ever seen. He settled between your legs, curled his arms around your thighs and dived right in. With the tip of his nimble tongue, he slowly drew the shape of your lips before circling around your clit. Unlike your husband, Shane was a master of giving head, and was well versed on your pussy. Even after all this time, he still remembered what made you tick.

A shiver ran down your spine as the plane of his tongue licked long strokes from your entrance to your swollen bud.

You threw your head back when his lips wrapped around it. The vicious pressure of his lips around that bundle of nerves felt out of this world.

“God, I’ve missed you, Cielo,” you moaned, threading your fingers in his hair.

“You taste so fucking good,” he grunted ferociously against your folds as a response and all of a sudden he began to suck on you like a starving beast.

Your juices, just as before, leaked all over. It was ridiculous how much you could produce in such a short time. You could feel the fabric below your ass absorbing them.

All your bearings were quickly lost as he took you closer to the edge. All you could do is cry out in pleasure, and squirm as his grip tightened around you to keep your hips in place. You tugged hard on his hair to anchor yourself but all that did is prompting him to go even harder.

“Close… I'm so… fuck, Shane, please… please,” you couldn't stop begging with shallow breaths. Your core was on fire, and you desperately needed to come. “Yes, like that… Ahhh.”

Your legs suddenly clenched around his head a wave of wild bliss coursed through your body, from your center out in different directions. Your toes curled, your muscles shivered, your breathing faltered as your mind was temporarily blown into pure joy. You closed your eyes and let that all take you over your body for a few seconds.

Slowly coming back to your senses, your pussy tingled for a little longer than usual.

Shane was on his knees between your legs, massive erection in his hand when you opened your eyes to find him staring directly at you.

“Goddamn, Corazón. I wish I could take a picture of you like that. I've never seen you come like that for me,” he groaned, pumping his length. “Look how fat you made me.”

Softly laughing, you managed to lift your hand to help him. You replaced his fist with yours and felt the jerking of his firm dick in your palm. His girth was so wide, your thumb couldn't touch any of your other fingers in a curl.

You wondered how many pussies his cock fucked during the past few years. And without thinking or stopping your hand, you asked…

“Di, ¿cuántas zorras te has tirado con mi polla?” (Say, how many bitches have you fucked with my cock?)

“¿Tu polla?” he snorted. (Your cock?)

“Yes, just mine,” you winked as you kept your hand moving. “Dime la verdad o paro.” (Tell me the truth, or I’ll stop.)

“Hmm, no me tortures así, Corazón.” (Hmm, don’t torture me like that, Sweetheart.)

“Come on. Tell me,” you requested again.

“None,” he panted, unable to keep up with the rhythm of your hand. He had to brace a palm on the mattress to keep himself from falling. “You said it. Soy todo tuyo, mi vida. Te lo prometo.” (I’m all yours, my life. I promise.)

You smiled widely, pressing your teeth on your lower lip, as you enthusiastically got him to ejaculate all over your swollen belly. It was warm and sticky, and you couldn't help but spread it like butter all over your tight skin, and bring some of it again to your mouth as Shane’s body melted next to yours.

You turned to the side, pushing the pillows under your back aside, keeping one for your head.

Your fingers found his stubbled jaw as you tilted his face in your direction.

“You really haven't been with anyone since the last time I saw you?”

“No. Not like this, Darlin’. Don’t get me wrong, I fooled around with a couple of girls but nothing else. You know me better than that.”

“I'm not sure if that's still true.”

“Do you wanna know where I've been the last two years?”

You were afraid to find out, but your head nodded anyway.

“Prison,” he said without breaking eye contact.

“What for?”

“Possession. Bet you thought it was about time they caught up with me, huh?”

“No, I’ve never thought that, Shane. As much as I wanted to punish you sometimes, I never wished for that to happen. When did you get out?”

“Yesterday morning,” he smiled softly. “All I could think was you, so I got in the car and I drove all the way here without stopping.”

“You could've called me.”

“I couldn't.”

“Why not?”

“Cause you would've dropped everything to help me, and I couldn't put that on you.”

“I wish you had. I would've done anything…”

“I know.”

“I'd have waited for you.”

“I know that too, Corazón. Don't beat yourself up for it.”

Your phone dinged, and you blindly extended your hand to pick up from your nightstand. It was another update from Trent. They were playing beer pong like fucking frat guys, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“What’s that?” Shane asked.

“Oh, nothing, just checking on him. I’m keeping tabs on his friend’s Instagram to see that he’s still at the cabin.”

“No, not that. This,” Shane lifted your wrist as the soft light from the night lamp highlighted the mark on your forearm. “You didn't have this earlier. I told you my truth. Would you tell me yours?”

Placing your phone down, you pursed your lips, pondering why you’re still protecting that asshole.

“I… you were right earlier. I don’t really love him anymore. I don’t think I ever did. I just needed some stability and I thought he was it. This happened after you left. And this,” then you pointed to your temple, “he smacked me with the remote last night.”

“Why are you with someone like that? I thought–”

“You thought, what, that I had some self-respect? I used to. I think I did. It’s more complicated than you think. He wasn’t like that when I met him.”

“They hardly ever are.”

“He lost his job a few months ago and started drinking, it wasn’t until recently that he-”

“Stop. Don’t make excuses for him. Losing a job doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole and hit your wife or any woman at all. And drinking… I know a thing or two about getting wasted, and I never put my hand on you no matter how drunk I was.”

“You're right… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Then, kick him out. Call the police. Get a restraining order. This is still your house, right?”

“Yeah, it is. But like I said – it’s more complicated than that. He has two cop friends. Best friends. They protect each other like fucking wolves. Last year, one of them killed a girl in a DUI, and he got nothing but a slap on the wrist. If I were to show up to ask for a restraining order, who do you think they’ll protect?”

“That’s fucking crazy. You can't live like that, baby.”

You sighted, combing the curls behind his ear. “Sometimes, when he goes away like this I think – this time he’d be too drunk to drive, and he’d end up going over a cliff, die upon impact and would never set foot in this house again. I keep closing my eyes at night and dreaming about it.”

Shane softly patted your hair back, and snuggled closer to you, wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m not gonna let him hurt you again. I promise, Corazón.”

“You don’t have to save me.”

“Lo sé, mi vida.”

Smiling against his chest, basking in the familiar scent of Shane, and feeling the big flutter of a kicking storm in your stomach. You held his hand and placed it on the side of your belly.

“She’s kicking. Can you feel that?”

“Yeah, I feel it. She? It’s a girl?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s strong. Does she have a name?”

“She does,” you placed your mouth over his ear, and whispered the name of your baby girl.

“That’s a beautiful name. She’s gonna kick ass, just like her mama.”

“I hope so,” your lips quirked up as you placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth and confessed. “I wish she was yours.”

“I wish she was mine too.”

Your lips locked together once more as you rid yourself of all bad thoughts clouding your head. You only ever wanted Shane. It’s easier to forget how much you love him when he’s not around, and just as easier to remember that you’d die for him if you had to. As the intensity of the kiss rose, you shifted and straddled his waist. He watched you become a goddess as you rubbed yourself over his dick, getting it to fully harden.

“Are you in heat or something?” he laughed, holding your hips.

“It’s the hormones. What? Aren’t you up for the challenge, big guy?”

“Oh, I’m up, alright.”

You lifted your ass, held his cock and carefully sank onto it.

Rocking back and forth you propped your hands on his broad chest, so you could boost yourself up to bounce all over his massive erection. His hands held your ass to help you go faster.

When you caught him eyeing your big breast you bent over, holding one in your hand and put it over his mouth, so he can suck on it. His lips wrapped tight around your sensitive nipple and latched on it. You were growling at the wonderful sensation paired with his throbbing cock inside you.

“God, Corazón, you’re amazing, you feel so… “ He moaned as he switched to the other nipple.

This time his teeth scraped the surface, and you almost came at the surprise. You were so close you couldn’t help but bounce a little faster. You had to brace both hands again to keep up with the rhythm. The weight of your belly started to hinder your pace the closer you got to the edge.

“Help me,” you grabbed Shane's hand and put it on your clit, pleading with a cry, “I need it. Please.”

“I got you, baby. I got you.”

He rubbed viciously on your clit until you came with such force all your juices squirted all over him. Then the pleasure of your orgasm forced his own. His cocked jerked, and suddenly you were filled again with his delicious seed.

You didn’t hear Shane leaving after you fell asleep in his arms.

When you woke up to pee a couple of hours later, the clock marked 4AM, and he wasn't in your bed anymore. He had left the house altogether. You didn't have plans for the next day, but you weren't expecting him to leave that early in the morning either without saying goodbye.

There was a pang of disappointment in your chest as you went back to bed, but you closed your eyes, naively hoping he'd come back later.

It was your lucky day cause when you opened your eyes again, he was back and had brought breakfast with him. All our favorite plates were laid on the breakfast bar as he made a fresh batch of coffee.

“Where did you go, Cielo?” you asked in between bites.

“Went out for breakfast.”

“I can see that. I mean earlier. Woke up at 4 and you were gone.”

He took a long sip of his cup before responding, “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a drive to clear my head.”

“It must be strange sleeping in a new bed.”

“Yeah, a little.”

“I have to work later. I can call in sick if you want–” you offered.

“No, baby, do what you gotta do. No te preocupes por mí.” (Don’t worry about me.)

“You can’t stay here, but I could still get you a room at the hotel if you’re tired.”

“Nah, do your thing, I’ll figure it out.”

“Would you… come later?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll be here, Corazón,” he kissed your hair and picked up your phone from the counter, “unlock it. I’ll put in my new number, and you call me when you’re off. Yeah?”

“Prométeme que volverás,” you said before handing back the phone. (Promise that you’ll come back.)

“Lo prometo.” (I promise.)

After cleaning your plate you relaxed in bed for a little while, trying to get him to catch up with his sleep. There was no luck in that department cause he couldn't keep his eyes and hands off you. So once again, you found yourself in a trance of hormone-induced lust, and had Shane thrusting into you at full force from behind. Your ass was in the air, held in his broad palms, while you sobbed and moaned in pleasure against the pillow beneath your head. You desperately pushed back with your hips, taking him all in. Feeling every stroke, every inch and throb until your legs were left trembling and the fire in your core had spread through your whole body.

When you went off to work in the afternoon, it all seemed to become a hazy dream. It was all so intense that part of you thought it couldn't be real. But that was most of your relationship with Shane. Sometimes you couldn't help but feel you weren't enough for him. Him constantly leaving and breaking his promises was proof that you shouldn’t trust everything he says, but this time felt different. Maybe it was cause he was fresh out of prison, but you could tell that perhaps he was ready to stay out of trouble.

The first half of your shift went by quickly. You kept checking your phone like a maniac to make sure your husband stayed where he was supposed to, and luckily he did. If he wasn’t afraid of hurting you, you weren’t afraid of hurting him back, but you were indeed scared of him finding out about you and your old flame regardless.

You were at the front desk when Shane came in an hour before your shift ended to ask for a room. He needed a place to stay after all, and as the manager you managed pretty well to comp him a room for a couple of days. He carried his scarce luggage that consisted of just a duffle bag to his room, took a shower and waited for your shift to end.

Shane was half asleep when you finished work and knocked on his door. It was easy to see that he was utterly spent, so you didn’t make him drive back to the house. Instead, you stayed with him for the night. You trimmed his curls and shaved his face. Then, you took a long bath together like old times.

“Are you going to stay this time?” you asked once you got into bed.

You faced the other under covers and didn't talk louder than a whisper.

“I don't have anywhere else to go, baby.”

“Does that mean that you're done hustling?”

“I gotta. I don't have any other choice than to be done. Next time it could be 20 or 30 or life. I think I've tempted fate way too many times and got away with more than I should've. I had a lot of time to think and realized none of it mattered. Didn't care about the money. It was just… I don’t know, the power I guess. And I missed on a lot of time with you, and now I have nothing to show for. I don't really know what I'm gonna do, but I'm done with all that. All I know is that I just wanna be with you.”

“I…” your words caught up in your throat, as you tried to convey and process what he said at the same time. “I wanna believe that's true, but you've said you were done before and always felt right back into it.”

“This time is different. I can promise you that I'm not going anywhere this time. Cross my heart.”

Your lips softly pulled up at the corners as you placed your hand over your name's tattoo on his chest.

Regardless of his promise, you’d always have some reservations when it comes to him. Until he really proves it, there’s nothing stripping all those doubts he’s ingrained in you over the years.

When you woke up in the middle of the night he was gone like the night before. This time there was a note saying that he had gone out for a drive and signed it with – I love you, Corazón.

By the time you got up this time he hadn't come back. It didn't worry you though. You just went on with your day, drove back home to take a shower and run some errands before your next shift.

You weren't exactly sure what was going to happen next. You couldn't just jump into Shane's arms after all this time and pretend nothing ever happened. If this was really happening you had to make sure that was true to his word and figure out how he’d fit into your life when you were about to have a baby.

But most importantly, there was something you had to do first. Something that you should’ve done a long time ago and that was leaving your husband. You had been subjected to verbal and mental abuse for months that gradually turned into physical abuse. No matter how much it scared you, it was time to put your foot down and protect not only yourself but your daughter. She couldn’t be raised around him. And Shane or no Shane, it was something you couldn’t keep brushing aside hoping it’ll get better. It was easier to think about it than to actually do it. You weren’t sure how to start. Like you told Shane, going to Lafayette’s Police Department wasn’t an option. But maybe giving Rick a call and asking him for some guidance could be the first step of many.

You pinned that thought for the next day and went back to work a little earlier than usual. It was Sunday afternoon, and you dreaded that Clayton would be coming back later. So you decided to pay Shane a visit before work.

“You know, being here with you this weekend… it’s been the best thing that’s ever happened in a long time, Sweetheart.”

“Well, anything can beat spending two years in prison.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, mi vida. I mean it. I just hope you can forgive me someday for everything I’ve done. There’s a lot of shit you don’t know about that I wanna tell you but…”

He lowered his stare.

“Shane… I… If what you say it’s true, if you prove that I can count on you and that you’re not going back to all that, I’d never hold anything against you. That’s my promise. Whatever you did, you’ve done your time, right?”

“Right,” he picked up your hand and kissed your knuckles before smoothing his palm on your baby bump.

“I can come back later, just for a little while before going home.”

“If you feel like it, I’ll be here, Corazón. Always. No matter what happens.”

He said kind of ominously before you left the room. His tone was certainly different from the night before, he could barely look you in the eye as you said goodbye.

It really puzzled you as you went back to your desk. Maybe he was just tired or perhaps, he was actually feeling the weight of all his actions at once and was actually remorseful. You definitely hadn’t seen that look in his face before that afternoon.

On a quiet evening, when you thought this weekend couldn’t bring more surprises, there was something else that turned your world upside down when two of Clayton’s friends showed up at the front desk. It was the two cops, Simon and Paulie, or Prick One and Prick Two as you called them, asking you for a private place to talk.

You took them into the office where they asked you to sit down, so they could break the news of your husband’s death. It was hard to hear, no matter how many times you’ve fantasized about it, it seemed impossible and your first reaction when they told you he drove over a cliff was to burst into laughter.

“You guys are joshing, right?” you scoffed, and their faces remained unchanged, dead serious. “That can’t be right. He was with you the whole time. I saw it in Trent’s fucking pictures.”

“I’m really sorry, sweetheart. It’s true. We ran out of ice, and he said he was going to the gas station for more and never returned last night. We didn’t find him until this morning… we weren’t sure it was him until they got down to get him. That’s why we waited to tell you.”

“Ice? He went out for ice?” You gritted in disbelief.

“He was pretty wasted. We all were, but you know how he was, once he got something in his head…”

“That’s the last thing he said before leaving.”

“But we believe there was something else that I rather you hear from us than on the news. They found a bag with amphetamines and cocaine in his truck.”

“After he lost his job he was desperate and, we kinda knew that he was selling to-”

They kept spitting out information that didn’t seem feasible to you until you snapped.

“Stop, stop, stop,” you said stiffly, holding your palms up for a moment before getting up from your chair. “Everything you’re saying doesn’t make any sense. He’s many things, but he’s not a fucking drug dealer.”

Though it’d explain some things, you couldn’t believe Clayton had turned into that.

“You kinda knew? That’s bullshit. You either were fully aware of what he was up to or you two are the dumbest cops I’ve ever met. You just don’t – kinda knew –” you threw big air quotes at their own words.

“Hey!” Simon raised his voice for just a second before his partner motioned at him to have some tact.

“We know you’re hurting, sweetheart. It’s a lot to process, but we’re here for whatever you need. Clay would’ve wanted us to help you.”

A lot to process was an understatement.

You looked out the window and saw Shane’s jeep parked in the lot, and it dawned on you. It wasn’t an accident or a coincidence… It was Shane. He killed him. It was as clear as day. You told him about your fantasy of Clayton falling from a cliff the other night, and he made that happen. He murdered him in your name and these two clowns were obviously too stupid to figure that out.

It made you sick to your stomach to think about it and you had to fight not to throw up right on the spot.

“Do I need to identify the body? Is he…?” you couldn’t even imagine what he would look like. All you could think about is the last time you saw him when he grabbed your arm, that same arm you unconsciously were gripping to as hard as he did.

“We can take care of that. You don’t have to see him like that.”

You simply nodded as vile rose to your throat, “there’s a lot… If you could… I need to be alone for a minute.”

“We understand. Call us if you need anything.”

They left the office and the first thing you did when the door was closed was hurl everything you had eaten earlier in the wastebasket.

Beads of sweat covered your forehead and chest when you came out of the office. Your boss dismissed you from work and instead of going home, you went straight to Shane’s room for answers. What he said earlier about forgiveness of all the things he’s done suddenly made a lot of sense. He wasn’t talking about three years ago, he was talking about what he had done last night.

When he opened the door, your cheeks were already covered in tears, as rage just fired through your body. You couldn’t voice anything other than a “how could you….” as you shoved him back several times with all the strength you could muster until his back was pressed against the wall.

You didn’t have to say much cause he was aware that you knew that he indeed had killed Clayton. He fucking knew that sooner or later you were going to find out.

“Lo siento, mi vida. De verdad que lo siento…” (I’m sorry, my life. I truly am sorry…)

He wasn’t in fact sorry at all, he was sorry that he hurt you, but he wasn’t carrying an ounce of guilt from killing your husband in cold blood.

“He had to go. I’m sorry. I couldn’t just let him hurt you again, you gotta know that.”

“No. You’re not putting this on me. You did that cause you’re a selfish piece of shit. I shouldn’t’ve…”

“C’mon, you practically begged me the other day. Why would you tell me that you kept dreaming of him dying if you didn’t want me to do something about it?”

“It’s called being vulnerable. You caught me at a bad time and took advantage of it. I’m sick of men like you and him making the rules as they go.”

“I didn’t make any rules. I did what I had to cause you didn’t have the guts to kick him out of your life.”

“I had a plan… I was going to… and you…” you kept losing the ability to put your thoughts together.

“Babe, I don’t care if you hate me for as long as I live but, I’m gonna sleep tonight like a baby knowing that that asshole won’t ever touch you again.”

“Is that easy for you, huh?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel just one bit relieved that you won’t have to see him ever again. Di la verdad.” (Tell the truth.)

You shook your head, and swallowed the hard pill of his words. He was partly right. As shocking as it was, you knew that after all this, you’d be glad he was gone.

“It doesn’t matter, Shane. What you did was evil.”

“I did it cause I love you.”

“No, you did it cause you wanted to.”

“I didn’t wanna, I swear. For the first time… I didn’t wanna do something like this, trust me.”

“Trust you? I don’t think you deserve that.”

“You should go home and rest…. Once this is over you’ll see more clearly that this had to happen.”

“See more clearly? You’re the one with tunnel vision, Shane. If you can admit that what you did was fucking wrong, then there’s nothing else to say here. We’re done.”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t wrong. I know it was. But the only thing that matters to me is that you and your baby are safe. And if they lock me up for it, so be it. I don't fucking care. I wasn't gonna sit down and watch him hurt you again.”

“I… I really don't know what you expect me to do with all this. You killed, not just someone… you killed my husband. How can you sit down and pretend that everything will be fine? How are you gonna live with that?”

“Wasn't really the first time. I told you there was a lot you didn't know about.”

“That doesn't make me feel any better. I said I wouldn't hold anything against you, but this is too much, Shane.”

“I know.”

“No matter what he did, he didn't deserve…” you started but immediately realized you didn't even believe your own thoughts. He did deserve to die. Just not like this, perhaps. “Is there any way this could be traced to you, to us?”

“No, I covered all my tracks.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you want me to give you the rundown?”

“If someone finds out…”

“Nobody's gonna find out. I promise.”

“Tú y tus malditas promesas. Sigues siendo el mismo cabrón.” (You and your damn promises. You’re still the same bastard.)

“Hey, mírame y dime, en tu corazón de corazones ¿De veras crees eso?” (Look at me and tell me, in your heart of hearts, do you really believe that?)

You glanced at him, but you couldn't focus enough to tell or understand what you believed anymore. Your head sunk into your shoulders in defeat before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Was he really selling drugs or did you plant them?”

“I didn't plant anything. I have no idea what he was up to. I just followed him with my car and made sure he went…”

“How did you know where he was?”

“You showed me where they were in that photo the other night. Their dumbasses even tagged the location.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“So you want the rundown after all.”

“Just wanna make sure… I don’t know anymore… I don’t know why I care at all,” you tiredly held your forehead on your palms.

“Look, the less you know the better. They won’t come after you. I’ll make sure of that… but to answer your question, no, nobody saw me. I used a different car, I scooped up the place the night before and just waited… I thought I’d have to do it when they were all asleep but, when he got into his truck I saw my chance.”

“Ya es suficiente.” (That’s enough.)

You promptly stood up as you were torn in different directions inside. Turning your back on him, your hand reached for the door handle. “You should leave town while you can. I won’t tell anyone… but I can’t see you anymore.”

“So this is it? This is how it ends?”

“I don’t know… I just can’t really look at you right now. You put my life upside down in two days, Shane.”

“I’m so sorry for that. I really am. But I hope one day you have it in your heart to forgive me… I… I won’t be going anywhere. If you need me, I’m just one call away, Corazón.”

You didn’t look back, didn’t even glance over your shoulder one last time to see him as you stepped out of the room.

Emotionally and physically exhausted you drove home as your brain switched on autopilot. The next few days were hazy and draining. As soon as the body was released for burial you got the funeral out of the way quickly. It didn't surprise you that it was ruled as an accident, with the levels of alcohol in his blood and the drugs in the truck didn’t leave room for questioning foul play. And the worst part of it all, and that Shane was right, you didn’t feel bad at all for his death.

Though Shane left the hotel you worked at, he stayed in town. You saw his car parked by the diner the day you returned to work.

He stayed away. More than once you thought he’d come up out of the blue and show up on your porch, and you’d be too weak to deal with him again. But He didn’t even dare to call or text again after that day.

It wasn’t until three or so weeks later, when you started feeling more like your old self, you began going through Clayton’s stuff. There wasn’t really anything you wanted to keep, so you threw most of it in the donation pile and called it a day. There was one thing though, that you couldn’t sort, and it was the storage cabinet he had padlocked in the garage. You went through every drawer and pocket to find a key to it, but there was no luck. Maybe it was lost in the mountains with him, you thought. Then, as much as you wanted to avoid that, you had no choice but to search the bag you were given with the personal belongings he had during the ‘accident’. There you found the key attached to his keychain.

At that point, nothing surprised you anymore when you opened the cabinet to find a backpack filled with prescription pills and other drugs you didn’t recognize. Along with it there was also some cash, a gun with a box of ammo, his work tools, a pair of utility boots, and a few magazines.

Perhaps that’s the excuse you needed to see Shane again, who fucking knows, but for whatever reason you picked up the phone and called him. Without going into detail about your findings, you asked him to come over to look at your car instead and he did. A couple of hours later, as the sun went down, he knocked on your door.

“I’m glad you called,” he said.

“Follow me,” you requested dryly, as you guided him into the garage. With the door shut down to the driveway, you opened the cabinet and showed him. “Can you get rid of this?”

“Is this yours?” He scanned the bag of stash. “Have you been hiding a side hustle?”

“No, asshole. It was his. I’ve just found it and I don’t know what to do with it. Do I call the police?”

“Don’t. Please don’t do that,” he pleaded. “I’ve been watching those two, you know his friends, and they were in it too.”

“How do you know?”

“Cause I know. Why do you think they were so quick to rule it as an accident? They turned him into his errand boy. He didn't just go out for ice, he was making a drop that night. Those fucking pictures they kept posting? Those are their alibis.”

Short of breath, you took a step back and leaned against the hood of your car. “I don’t wanna know any of it. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I’m tired of all this, Shane… I want it to be over.”

“Sorry… I… yeah, I’ll get rid of it.”

“What about the gun?”

He picked it up and made a thorough inspection making sure that it wasn’t loaded.

“I’ll take care of it too.”

“Wait, if it’s registered, shouldn’t I just turn it over or something?”

“Ghost gun. Has no serial number, see?” He turned it around and pointed at the side to show there was indeed no number where it was supposed to. “In normal circumstances, you could say you just found it, but in this case… I wouldn’t do it.”

“Got it. Just do what you have to do. Get rid of the cash too, I need all of it gone.”

“Now, hold on, there's like 8 G's here. You should keep that.”

“It's drug money, I don't want it.”

“Yeah, but you could use it for something good. Buy something for you or the baby.”

“I don't need it, I was doing pretty good without his money. I won't be able to use it without thinking about where it came from. I never took yours, I'm not gonna take his now.”

“Think it's for a good cause. Like it or not, he was her father, you could open a savings account for her. Don't let it go to waste, sweetheart. You might need it someday.”

“I… Sure. I guess you're right.”

“I could get you a good price on that bag too. I'm thinking about 5-”

“No, I don't want you to risk it. Just get rid of it. Burn it, bury it, toss it somewhere far away from here.”

“Are you sure? The Dixons owe me one, I could get them to–”

“I'm not gonna bend on this one Shane. I mean it. Stay away from the Dixons. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Alright, I’ll just get rid of it. But y’know I’m taking a huge risk getting this off your hands.”

“Oh.”

“So, are you sure you want me to? If they find me with this, I could get locked up again.”

“Ya empezamos… ¿Quieres algo a cambio?” You huffed, crossing your arms firmly over your belly. (Here we go… You want something in return?)

“No, I mean… I just wanna see you for a coffee sometime.”

“Told you, I don’t drink coffee.”

“It doesn't have to be coffee.”

“I’m too tired to do this again Shane. Do it or don’t. I don’t care. After you’ve put me through… no tienes derecho a pedir nada.” (You have no right to ask for anything.)

“Lo siento. Tenía que intentarlo. Can you blame me?” (I’m sorry. Had to try.)

“Yes, I can.”

“Okay, I set myself up for that one,” he huffed, and looked at the bag in his hand, and reiterated. “I’ll take care of this, don’t worry about it. No strings attached.”

“Thank you.” It took you a moment to say it, but you did. “So, you’re not leaving town. You’re not scared of being found out?”

“No, I’m not scared of being found out.”

“And what’s your plan now?”

“I meant what I saw the other day. I'm staying. I got a job at Jim’s. He’s letting me use the trailer behind the shop to save some money. And that’s my plan for now. Why? Thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“No? It seems like you awfully care a lot about what happens to me for someone who says doesn’t give a fuck.”

“I was just curious, Shane. You can just go, we don’t have to keep talking.”

“But I like talking to you.”

“I know you do. That’s the only thing you have over me. Every time you open your mouth… you’re just one step closer to…”

“What? Changing your mind?”

“It’s not a good thing.”

“As I see it, it’s the best thing.”

“Of course you do.”

“Okay, let me ask you just one more thing, and then I’ll go.”

“Okay, one.”

“If someone you loved was treated like you were–”

“Shane… don’t.”

“Lemme finish, please. If someone you loved was treated like you were, wouldn’t you do something about it? What if it was one of your friends? What if it was me… or what if an asshole in 20 years treated your daughter like that? Would you just stand by and do nothing?”

“That’s not a fair question. You’re playing on my emotions right now. Of course, I’d do something about it.“

“Then, why is it different? Would you kill for me if I was in danger?”

“That’s more than one question.”

“Would you?”

“I don’t know. I guess it depends on the situation. Once upon a time, if you had asked me that, I’d say yes, I’d have killed anyone for you.”

“¿Y ahora?” (And now?)

“No lo sé… I have something more pressing on my hands right now. I’m not alone anymore,” you glanced at your baby bump. “The difference between you and me is that I have to consider that what I do affects her.”

“Guess I should’ve thought that.”

“You should’ve.”

“We could still make it work. Maybe not now. But maybe someday when you can look at me again without seeing what I did. What do you think?”

“I think you’ve gone over the limit of questions you said you were going to ask, and my head is starting to hurt. But you know that I’ll never rule anything out between you and me. We’re both a lost cause. And if you really stay out of trouble and keep your word, who knows? Maybe one day I’ll change my mind.”

“That’s all I needed to hear, Corazón.”

Shane closed the backpack and slung it on his shoulder.

“Be careful with that.”

“Don't worry about me.”

His hand carefully slid on the side of your neck as Shane pressed his lips to your forehead. It lingered, once again making you feel as weak as the day you met him. It made you question whether to push him away or just give in to old habits. You've accepted that no matter what he did, you'd never be able to get rid of him.

You tentatively held his jaw between your palms, and stared at his lips for a beat before returning the kiss. It was soft and quick cause you didn't want to delve too fast and make it feel like a reward.

“I'll see you around,” you offered. That's the best you could do for now.

#shane walsh #shane walsh x reader #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #fanfiction #smut #angst #pregnant reader #spanish reader #darlingwrites

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 10 months

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 8

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, vomiting, child injury, allusions to gunshot wound, pregnancy complications A/N: Okay, this one turned out to be a monster. My brain is fried so any mistakes I made, I'll fix later. I really really hope Daryl isn’t OOC here. I tried to put myself in his shoes, knowing what I know about him. Anyway! On with the show!

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You stayed closer to the RV while the group had gathered around Carol to provide support. While you wanted desperately to be there for her, you couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of guilt. Your baby was safe inside your belly while her Sophia was lost in the forest.

Rick had dispatched the two walkers that had scared the little girl into running, but found her missing when he returned. He had since taken Daryl, Glenn, and Shane back into the trees. Daryl was a tracker and a damn good one. If anyone stood a chance at finding her, it was him.

“You okay?”

You startled from your thoughts to see Andrea staring down at you with concern etched onto her face. You must really look like shit. You had completely forgotten about food and water along with the items you had gathered once you and Daryl had made it back to find that Sophia had disappeared.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” You didn’t sound very convincing even to your own ears. You were still dizzy with a trembling in your limbs that just would not subside. Your stomach was still uneasy. When wasn’t it uneasy, actually?

“You’re looking a little pale. Can I get you anything?” She laid a hand against the RV and leaned into it.

“Some water, if they found any?” Your voice was so gravelly, your mouth dry. Your lips felt as if they’d split open should you smile.

“Yeah! Shane found a ton! One second!”

Then she was off! You didn’t have the energy to track her movements, instead deciding to place your forehead against your knees. You truly did feel horrible. If this was what women called the joys of pregnancy, you would pass, thank you very much, and just get handed the baby.

“Here.” Reluctantly, you raised your head, finding a plastic cup at eye level. With a minute nod, you sipped slowly at the cold drink. It felt like heaven on your parched throat. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“Huh?” You were absolutely abstracted. When she asked again, you really had to stop and think. “I guess at the CDC.”

“Oh, hun. That’s not good. Let me see what I can find for you.” Andrea began to turn but stopped when you laid a hand on her arm.

“I really don’t think I can stomach anything. Everything makes me sick.” You ran a hand through your hair, grimacing when your fingers became trapped by some knotted stands. You had eaten the candies Carol had given you with only mild relief. There was not a second of reprieve from your stomach attempting to crawl out of your throat.

“You need nutrients. For the baby.” She urged, crouching down in front of you.

“I know. Maybe I can try when they find Sophia and we can go back to the normal amount of fear and anxiety.” One side of your mouth lifted into a ghost of a smile when you heard her chuckle.

“Okay. But let me know if you change your mind.”

“Thank you. I will.”

Glenn and Shane returned first, the former handing out tasks to keep everyone busy. Most likely trying to control panic. You were no exception. The man sent you to grab the things you had found. You didn’t hesitate to inform him there was too much to retrieve on your own.

“You’ll just have to make trips then, won’tcha? He scoffed, turning away and leaving no room for argument.

You still wanted to show how useful you could be but you felt like hammered shit. The dizziness and trembling remained, and your ass met the pavement once you had arrived back to your treasure pile. There was no way you were coming back out there again. Listening for any signs of danger, you began to consolidate. Only the most useful things were placed in the suitcase, the remainder left on the ground. Zipping up the thing, you were beyond grateful for the wheels.

Daryl and Rick had returned by the time you made it back. Sophia was not with them. Carol was in hysterics. Honestly, you weren’t sure that she had ever left the mindset. It didn’t take any persuading for you to relinquish the bed in the RV to her that night.

Come morning, weakness and exhaustion were a suffocating blanket wrapped tightly around you. You wanted to stay there and sleep but that wasn’t even remotely an option. Not while Sophia was out there.

Everyone was issued a weapon. You were given a second knife and holster, this one taking up residence on your hip. Only Shane, Rick, and Daryl were carrying firearms. Some bogus bullshit about everyone else needed to be trained. You were trained. However, there was no use arguing and you felt too horrible to engage in a losing battle.

“What’re ya doin’?”

You lifted your head to find Daryl glaring at you. “My taxes. What’s it look like?” You replied with an over exaggerated roll of your eyes.

“Ya ain’t goin’.” His tone left no room for negotiation. Unfortunately for him, there was no way you could care less.

“Not asking permission, Dixon.” You made to walk by him but he caught your arm in passing. With a stern look at his hand on your bicep, you hissed “let go.”

“Nah, ya need to stay here.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Ain’t you m’worried ‘bout.” He shot a pointed look at your stomach.

You snatched your arm free. “That’s sweet, but again, I’m not asking your permission.” It was getting easier and easier to walk away from him. You weren’t so sure that was a good thing.

Andrea and Dale were engaged in what appeared to be a heated conversation as you passed by. You had an inkling on what it was about but it was none of your business. It was Andrea’s choice and she felt it had been taken from her. You could sympathize, recalling the helplessness you had felt when Jenner closed those doors. You and the blonde were on opposite ends of that spectrum. You had wanted desperately to live while she had been ready to die.

The group had already crossed the guardrail and entered the trees with you and Andrea pulling up the rear in a jog until you caught up. While she continued forward, you chose to hang back. Daryl had taken the lead, constantly scanning for footprints or other disturbances that could possibly indicate Sophia had been through the area. You could have helped him, but it would likely not be well received given he had rebuffed the idea of you being there in the first place.

“Stop lagging behind.” Shane grumbled at you, halting his steps until you passed him. “Shouldn’t even be here.” You weren’t sure if he had meant for you to hear him. Nor were you sure of his reasoning. Because you were a stranger? Because you were pregnant? Regardless, you let it slide. You were there to help find Sophia.

Your steps remained steady which meant Lori had slowed her own while talking with Carl. Yet another conversation you had no right to hear, but you did offer a tight smile in passing. You ended up behind Glenn, absently comfortable with that. He had said the least to you but when he did speak, he was kind.

It wasn’t much further before Daryl gave a signal to slow. When he lowered into a crouch everyone followed suit, including you. The transition left you dizzy and leaning forward to place a palm on the dirt in order to maintain your balance. The all too familiar twist and cramp of your stomach signaled the impending purge. Maybe you should have stayed behind.

Your steps were silent as a ghost. You retreated from the group, backtracking as far as you safely could alone before you no longer had control. All the water you had managed to drink splashed onto the dirt, leaving you once again empty. You were going to die from starvation or dehydration at this point. It was a terrifying reality. The only option would be to find a pharmacy and seek out something for nausea. But what was safe to take during pregnancy?

Your first few steps were unsteady but you managed to level your gait at some point while tracking your way back to the others. Before you could really gauge whether your absence had been noticed, there was a tolling of bells in the distance. Church bells?

The small group as a whole began to sprint toward the sound but you? You couldn’t run if you tried. The dizziness was worsening, your extremities feeling not unlike lead weights. You knew now Daryl had been right. You should have stayed behind. Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve. Now, you had no choice but to move forward. Making the trip back to the RV alone would be more dangerous than falling a little behind your group. At least they could hear if you called for help.

When you finally saw the space in front of you open up to an old church house and the familiar shapes of your fellow party members, you could have cried. Well, actually, you probably physically couldn’t cry. Dehydration was taking hold, a fact that you knew without anyone pointing it out. You hadn’t needed to pee since the previous afternoon. Your tongue was sandpaper. Your skin was dull and a bit itchy. You were going downhill and you didn’t know what to do about it.

When you noticed that a portion of the group had broken away from Rick, Shane, and Carl, you wondered if your mind was beginning to go as well. Why were they splitting up? Lost in your confusion, Daryl was nearly on top of you before you even realized he was approaching.

“What the fuck d’ya think you’re doin’?” He hissed in an exaggerated whisper. Oh, he was mad. Oh wait. He seemed to always be mad. “Don’t think I didn’t see ya sneakin’ off back there. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“You’re right.” You stood a little straighter. If you had to admit you were wrong, you would at least be confident about it.

“D’ya think this is a game? There’s fuckin’ corpses out—wait, what?”

You barely suppressed a chuckle at his expression. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be out here. I’m a liability and I’m—not okay.”

“Daryl, we should go.”

He held up a hand, silencing Andrea without even looking back. “Whaddaya mean ‘not okay’?”

“I can’t eat. I can’t even drink water without puking. I think—I think I might be—”

“Nah.” He interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t even say that shit. Just need to getcha back to the RV. Y’can rest an’ I’ll take the bike. Find some meds or somethin’. Doubt anythin’ in Merle’s stash would be good for the kid but I’ll check anyway.”

“Huh.” You raised your eyebrows, damn near astonished.

“What?”

“I think that may be the most you’ve said to me at one time since we’ve known each other.” The corner of your mouth lifted and—it may have been a hallucination—you could have sworn you saw his lip twitch as well.

“Stop. Can ya walk?”

“For now.” You took slow, albeit steady, steps to go around him, noticing that he never once tried to get ahead of you. He was worried. If you were this sick, what were the chances of your baby even making it? What if it was gone already?

“Let’s head back.” He instructed as the two of you passed by the suspicious gazes. Daryl had to lead them but his actions made it clear they would walk at his pace or venture ahead and get lost. Right now, his pace was your pace. You couldn’t make everyone suffer for your inability to keep up. The point was to search for Sophia, which meant as much ground needed covered as humanly possible. With a great amount of difficulty—and a few unsteady steps—you managed to pick up some speed. Daryl had taken only moments to be at your side once again, dipping his head as if requesting an explanation.

“So this is it? This is the whole plan?” Carol’s meek voice came from behind you, both you and Daryl turning to regard her. With a hand on your shoulder, he steered you to a downed tree and pushed you to sit.

“I guess the plan is to whittle us down into smaller an’ smaller groups.” You felt a tap against the front of your shoulder while holding your head in your hands. Daryl was still focused on the discussion but was offering you a tumbler of water.

“Thanks.” You mumbled. You’d be stupid to let your pride persuade you into rejecting the offer. He gave you a nod and continued to listen to Lori's defense of her husband. Personally, you had nothing against Rick and believed he had once again made a call that was twisted to come back and bite him in the ass. No one wanted to blame him but in the face of fear and grief, blame was an easy scapegoat.

“C’mon.” Daryl gave you a moment to take one more sip and then helped you stand, clipping the water container back to his belt loop. It was blatantly obvious that his concern was for his baby, which in turn ensured that he made sure you were safe and healthy, but you couldn’t lie: having him be kind to you was something you wished you could grow to depend on. It was nice. Fleeting but nice.

A wave of dizziness had you listing to the side, only briefly fearing you’d fall before you felt his arm around your waist.

“Easy.” His voice was calm, almost soothing to your frayed nerves. As you got your feet back under you, you nodded that you were okay. He lingered, watching you with those deep blue pools. If you weren’t careful, you could get lost.

Several feet behind, Andrea cleared her throat, pretending to be looking at something up in the canopy when both you and Daryl quickly separated. How long had you been staring at him? Your cheeks warmed, actually managing to make you feel impossibly worse. Although, he had been looking right back. The tiniest of smiles upturned your lips, unbidden.

And then there was the unmistakable echoing crack of a gunshot.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong. Whether it was you or someone else in the group, the unease in your gut was more than the ever-plaguing nausea. Behind you, Lori had stopped again to look back from where you had all traveled from.

You were all watching her, but Andrea was the one to speak up. “You still worrying about it?”

“It was a gun.” The dark-haired woman replied, her gaze still far away.

Daryl hadn’t moved from your side, and he was doing a terrible job at hiding his disquiet. “We all heard it.”

Lori looked like she might start moving forward again, but she only managed to shift on her feet before looking back. “Why one? Why just one gun?”

You saw Daryl glance at you from the corner of your eye. He was losing patience. “Maybe they took down a walker.”

With a tilt of her head, her expression screamed unimpressed. “Please don’t patronize me. You know Rick wouldn’t risk a gun to put down one walker, or Shane. They’d do it quietly.”

Carol fidgeted where she stood, looking as if she felt she had to say something. “Shouldn’t they have caught up with us by now?”

Daryl took a breath. “There’s nothin’ we can do ‘bout it, anyway. Can’t run ‘round these woods chasin’ echoes.” He chanced a glance at you, and you knew then that he was eager to make them move to get you back to the RV. You’d never say anything yourself. That much was clear by how you had started to push yourself to move faster when you shouldn’t have been moving at all. Unfortunately, Lori didn’t seem to like that answer.

“So, what do we do? Same as we’ve been?”

“Beat the bush for Sophia, work our way back to the highway.” He hadn’t moved far from you at all, but extended an arm to indicate you should turn around and start walking. When there was a distinct lack of footfalls, you were the first to look back. Daryl looked at you before following suit. Carol and Andrea were engaged in conversation, though their hushed voices kept the nature inaudible. Daryl started toward them, waving you off when you tried to call him back.

“We’re all hoping and praying with you, for what it’s worth.” Andrea was offering a soft smile, extending some comfort to Carol. You winced when Daryl leaned in toward them.

“I’ll tell ya what s’worth—not a damn thing. S’a waste’a time, all this hopin’ an’ prayin’. We’re gonna locate that little girl. She’s gonna be just fine.” When he turned, you hid your smile behind your hand. “M’I the only one Zen ‘round here? Good lord.” There was nothing you could do to keep from chuckling. “Glad ya think s’funny.”

“Sorry.” You mumbled, still smiling, but at least treading onward.

It wasn’t much longer before your legs felt like they might fail to hold your weight. Not only weak, but aching. You could feel your pulse pounding in your head. Daryl continued to offer you water, never bothering to drink any himself, you noticed.

“How much farther?” Lori gave voice to the question you had been thinking for the last half hour.

“Not much.” Daryl reached for you when you stumbled but you shook your head. His eyes remained on you when he continued his reply. “Maybe hundred yards as the crow flies.” The answer seemed to satisfy her for the moment at least. “Hey.”

You grimaced as the cramps you had been feeling in your legs seemed to move into your stomach. You hadn’t realized that your hand had immediately pressed into the area. When you finally heard Daryl and looked at him, you were bombarded by the naked concern shining in his eyes.

“Y’want me to carry ya?”

Though taken aback by his offer, especially in front of the others after he had spent the better part of the day more focused on you than on the tracking he was out there to do, you shook your head adamantly. “No. No, I’m good.” Another cramp, only slightly sharper than the one that preceded it. It was still enough to have you draw a hissing breath through your teeth.

“Don’t mind. C’mon, ya need to rest an’ we’re losin’ daylight.”

Before you could turn him down a second time, Andrea began screaming somewhere nearby. When had she wandered off? Daryl was readying his crossbow, tapping Carol on the shoulder as he started running. “Stay with ‘er!” He pointed back to you. The woman nodded even though he was long gone.

“You okay, honey?” She asked, brushing some hair away from your face after you selected a tree to lean against. “You look terrible.”

“I just need to rest. Maybe try to eat something.” You all but panted. The pain was still sporadic but each seemed to hurt worse than the last. As it was, you were torn between needing to vomit and the urge to drink the entire container of water Daryl was carrying.

There was an awful commotion from the direction everyone had disappeared. Daryl soon came sprinting through, slipping the strap of his crossbow over his head before he reached you.

“Sorry.” He huffed between breaths at the same time he swept you up against his chest and continued toward the highway, everyone else right on his heels.

“What happened?” You asked breathlessly. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it.

“Some girl came ridin’ on a horse. Saved Andrea’s ass but she was lookin’ for Lori.” Wincing at being jostled when everything already hurt, you opened one eye and caught his grim expression. “Carl got shot.”

The remaining members of your group made it back to the highway in record time without you holding them up. Daryl gingerly lowered you onto the steps of the RV and pressed the water tumbler into your hand. Then he left to go fill in Dale and T-Dog.

Your hands were shaking as you sipped down some water. First Sophia went missing. Then Carl had been shot. Children weren’t spared from the cruelty of that world. You felt your eyes burn with the desire to cry, yet no tears would fall.

“There are no blessings anymore. Nothing real to hope for anymore.”

And for the first time, you considered the possibility that maybe what Jenner did had been intended as a mercy. How could you even consider bringing a baby into that hell? Maybe you should have stayed behind with Jacqui, letting her hold your hand as she had done after the blood draw. Maybe it would be better to let whatever was wrong with you steal from you until there was nothing left.

Your chest began to pull tight again, your breaths quickening in an attempt to keep pulling in air. Your pulse was thrumming away in your temples, making your eyes ache and your vision blur. All you could think was how badly you wanted to cry but couldn’t. You sat up straighter in hopes that it would make breathing easier, a small sound escaping when your stomach cramped again. It must have been loud enough to alert Daryl because when you opened your eyes, he was walking toward you, his brow pinched in concern.

And in looking at him, watching him react to your discomfort because of the little life the two of you had created, you instantly regretted ever thinking your baby shouldn’t be allowed a chance. That Daryl shouldn’t be allowed a chance to be a father.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me, Y/N.”

You were grabbing at his arms and attempting to stand, but in your panic, your voice failed you. The ability to breathe went right along with it. Halfway upright, with Daryl’s hands on your upper arms to aid you, you managed two words: “Something’s wrong.”

“Shit. Okay. Listen, we’re just gonna get everythin’ together. Leave a note for Sophia. Then we can—”

You cut him off with a scream that made his blood run cold. Your arms wrapped around your middle and held tight, trying to smother the pain stabbing relentlessly at you from the inside. In some distant, dark crevice of your mind, you felt him lift you and heard him shouting. There was the roar of an engine. Daryl’s bike. You blinked, dots and wavering images making it hard to decipher what was happening. You were sideways on the bike, cradled tightly to Daryl’s chest. How the hell?

“Hey, listen to me. Ya listening?” You gave him the weakest of nods. “Need ta hold onta me. Means ya gotta stay awake. Can ya do that?”

“Son, take a car. We can move more around and make a—”

You blinked slowly and watched Daryl look up and away from you. “There ain’t time!” You blinked again, his blue eyes back on you. “Y/N, can ya do that?!” You didn’t– couldn’t –answer verbally, but moved slightly to wrap your arms around his middle as tightly as you could, which wasn’t tight at all. “Stay awake.” He was already moving, pulling his legs up as he picked up speed. When your stomach cramped again, you only squeezed him tighter with a sob. “I gotcha. Just keep holdin’ on. You’re doin’ great.”

Minutes felt like an eternity, and eventually, you sacrificed holding up your head so the strength in your arms could hold true. When you opened your eyes, all you could see was blue sky. Blue like Daryl’s eyes. Would the baby have had his eyes?

The wind was no longer blowing. The sound of the engine had disappeared, but you were moving. Daryl was yelling. There were other voices but you were too tired; it hurt too badly. So when darkness beckoned, you took her hand.

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gogogodzilla · 11 months

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day 30, corruption

shane (stardew valley) x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, possessive!shane, no aftercare, no preparation, public sex, one instance of dirty talk, dubcon kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

The first time he saw you was when you entered the Stardrop Saloon. You were prettier than anything he’d ever seen before and so full of life. He watched as you bounced between the tables, greeting the various patrons as you made your way to the bar.

Shane huddled over his beer, watching you out of the corner of his eye. You interacted with everyone like you’d lived here for years. It wasn’t fair.

You sidled up next to him as you waited for your drink. You introduced yourself and began chattering away. You leaned on the bar, putting your chest on display for the entirety of Pelican Town.

“I don’t know you. Why are you talking to me?”

The words slipped out of his lips before he could catch them. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, but a small part of him enjoyed seeing the way you tucked your bottom lip in between your teeth, and you straightened at his comment.

As the days passed, he began to feel a deep desire to be closer to you. You were good and you were pure. Everything he wasn’t. A sick part of him wanted to ruin you, to see you come apart at his hands.

You always made an effort to stop and chat with him while he walked to the Joja Mart in the morning. You were always there, waiting for him as he exited Marnie’s house. He wondered if you had memorized his routine or if it was a coincidence every time.

Slowly, he acted less like an asshole and you warmed up to him. His head began to perk up at the sound of the doors to Joja Mart opening, just hoping to catch sight of you. This increased as spring turned into summer and you’d show up in clothes that left little to the imagination. He dreamt of you every night, skimpy clothes discarded as you fell apart on his cock. Infatuation quickly turned into an obsession.

It was Friday night at the saloon, which meant everyone in the valley was there. Shane kept to his corner, awaiting your arrival. He watched the clock as the seconds ticked by and you failed to make an appearance.

Eventually, you arrived with Sebastian at your side, a laugh gracing your lips. Shane felt the burn of jealousy consume him, and he scowled into his drink. He was patient enough to wait until you made your way over to him, swaying a little from the drinks you’d downed earlier. He grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the saloon. He was going to make sure he was the only thing you needed. Not Sebastian, not Sam, just him.

He shoved you against the wall of the saloon, too desperate to take you home and fuck you properly. His lips crashed against yours, and he held you with a rough grip on your jaw. You moaned against his lips as you pawed at his shoulders. He reached a hand down to slide under that pretty little dress of yours that drove him crazy. His dreams didn’t do the feeling of your skin under his fingertips any justice.

He slid a finger over your clothed core, eliciting a small whine from you. He wondered if you’d ever been touched like this; his cock twitched at the thought of being your first. A pretty thing like you must’ve had all sorts of people fawning over you.

He pulled away to catch his breath, shoved his face in the crook of your neck, and pressed open-mouthed kisses there. Your skin tasted almost as heavenly as it felt, and he groaned. He pushed your panties to the side and drug a finger through your folds, relishing how wet you already were.

His movements were hurried as he removed his hand from your jaw to reach down and free his cock from his jeans. He was already painfully hard, desperate to see you absolutely ruined as you came around his cock. He slid his cock through your folds, gathering your slick.

He lifted your thigh, giving him more access to that pretty pussy of yours. Slowly, he inched his way inside of you, and you clawed at his back as he did. You hissed at the intrusion, and he wished he would’ve had more time to prep you properly. He pressed a soothing kiss against your temple as he bottomed out. Your walls fluttered around him as you adjusted to him, and he almost came there and then.

He pulled out of you before ramming himself back in, earning a high-pitched mewl from you. He clamped a hand over your mouth as he rutted into you. His free hand drifted up to knead your breasts, your nipples hardening under his touch and showing through the thin fabric of your dress.

He reached a hand down to draw quick circles around your clit as he felt the familiar heat building in his abdomen. He wasn’t going to last long with you squeezing him just right and making those desperate noises that had his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

He hoped Sebastian could hear them from inside the saloon. He wanted to make sure everyone in this goddamn town knew you were his. The thought had him thrusting harder into you, each drag of his cock releasing a breathy moan against his hand.

You gripped his bicep as you clenched around him, your orgasm rapidly approaching.

“C’mon, baby. Make a mess around my cock,” he begged, words slurring together as he neared his climax.

You rutted against him and clenched his cock as you came. You whined against his hand and he loved the way your face scrunched up as he jutted into you, riding out your high.

With one final drag of his hips, he was coming in you, marking you as his own. He relished the way his seed painted your walls. Slowly, the twitching of his cock stilled and he pulled out of you. He groaned as he watched his cum drip out of you and down your thighs.

His movements were hurried as he tucked himself back into his shorts, and made his way back into the saloon. He hoped you’d come crawling back to him. He hoped you’d stay. You had to.

#stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #shane stardew valley #stardew valley shane #shane sdv #stardew shane #shane sdv x reader #shane sdv smut #kinktober #reader insert #no y/n

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sapphicnae · 5 months

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Love, Hate and Everything in Between

Summary: Regina hated you and you hated Regina. Each of you so obsessed with taking down the other. But was this obsession pure hatred or something more?

Character Pairings: Regina x fem!reader, Regina x Cady (if you squint)

Warnings: Slurs, Bullying, Toxic Behaviour, Internalised Homophobia

Words: 2.6k

A/N: This is my first fic / one-shot on here so I hope you guys enjoy. I’ve been reading some fics on here and decided we don’t have enough Regina fics going round, so I thought, what better than a classic enemies to lovers (?). Apologies for any mistakes I did write half of this at 4am. If you do enjoy, please let me know because I wouldn’t mind turning this into a full blown fic, I have plenty more ideas for it. Also, I’m very open to requests!

You and Regina. Two of the most popular girls in school.

Regina hated you, and you hated Regina.

It had been this way since you had joined North Shore a year ago and gained popularity, despite Regina’s attempts to take you down at every turn. But one thing you and your best friend, Janis Imi’ike couldn’t figure out was why Regina was so obsessed with you. To the point you would catch her staring at you from across the cafeteria almost daily, albeit with an icy glare plastered on her face. You had both had your fair share of run-ins with each other, after all, Regina couldn’t stand to see the new girl rise to popularity as fast as you had in your year of being at this school. But the difference between you and Regina was that you actually treated people with respect... and you just happened look pretty while doing it.

Jealousy. That’s all you had chalked her behaviour down to, until recently.

Regina had consistently made it clear that she was in fact, not gay. From her messy relationship with Aaron Samuels to openly flirting with Shane Oman in the halls, she had made it very clear she only had eyes for men. Her performative gestures with Shane in the hallways also coupled with the spreading of rumours about certain people being a lesbian. From the way Regina had spoken this word, it had made it seem as if this was the worst possible thing to be known as at North Shore. No one in school had ever had the guts to stand up to Regina for her problematic behaviour, especially since she ruled the halls with fear. Yet her reign seemed to be interrupted the moment you transferred to North Shore. You were the only person who wasn’t afraid to defend yourself, or others for that matter.

Naturally, Regina could not stand this. Which lead to you having a constant target on your back for rumours and blatant lies in order for you to lose your popularity as well as your dignity. You thought it was incredibly excessive of her to make out that being a lesbian was a bad thing. Partly because your best friend and partner-in-crime, Janis was a lesbian and partly because deep down, you knew you had an attraction to girls too. Yet the only people who knew this was Janis and Damien, of course, your two closest friends.

You had not yet been in a relationship since joining North Shore that year, not due to avoidance, but due to all your time being taken up by your rivalry with Regina. Which was totally normal… right?

The most recent rumour that was circling the halls, of course spread by Regina, was that at a party that you had both been to last Friday night, you had made a pass at Regina. Hearing this from Damien in English class that day was the last thing you had needed, after enjoying a supposedly drama free day for once. Anyone who was at the party that night would’ve known that wasn’t true, yet Regina had a certain charm to the way she could make anything seem believable. You of course weren’t surprised at her attempts to drag your reputation down for the umpteenth time this year. She loved making out that you were the one who was obsessed with her and not the other way round. It irked you to think that she could get away with having the last laugh. You would have just let it slide, but your ego once again stood in the way of your ability to allow Regina to think she had won.

So that’s when lunch rolled around. You, Janis, and Damien were sitting at your usual table, with the plastics in view. Having to watch them gossiping with each other and occasionally glancing your way had left you with a deep-seated feeling of rage. You had never been one to keep your emotions in check, this seemed to be your downfall in situations like these. Feeling anger like this was always the driver of your revenge. Coupled with the fact that thoughts of Regina didn’t often leave your mind. Which was obviously due to the fact that you resented her so much. You hated everything about her. Sure, she was gorgeous, with those stupid green eyes that always harboured some form of winged eyeliner, along with the rest of her makeup that accentuated her already flawless features. That stupid beautiful blonde hair that always seemed to sit in the perfect place, flowing down her back like she was some sort of supermodel. Those perfect lips tha-

“Dude, are you even listening to me right now?” Janis questioned, lightly punching your arm, ripping you away from your thoughts. A small blush crept up your neck, realising you had been so deep in thoughts about Regina that you had completely zoned out of the conversation you were supposed to be having.

You faltered for a moment before attempting to save yourself with a reply “Y-yeah of course. I was just-“

“Clearly planning her revenge against queen of the plastics, god Janis, keep up” Damien chimes in, attempting to save the day. Janis just rolls her eyes at both of you. She had been dealing with Regina and her posse for years, which meant she had more or less tuned their drama out in an attempt to stay sane at this school. With you however, it was a different story, Regina somehow always found the perfect way to rile you up.

“The day queen bitch of North Shore gives it a rest with these dumbass rumours, will be the day I know peace” Janis huffed, which made both you and Damien chuckle in response. “Especially with her obsession over who’s a lesbian and who’s not. If you ask me, she should just come out of the closet already.” She then nods to you “I mean, the closet might as well be glass with the way she stares you down at any given moment. Coming from a fellow girl kisser, she wants you baaad.” She laughed at her own words. Receiving an eye roll from you this time.

“That girl needs to be called out on her shit.” You glance over at Regina who is sporting a smug smile listening in to her friends gossiping. You couldn’t stand the fact that she had gotten under your skin once again. With the rumour fresh in your mind, you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to act. Deep down you loved the drama between the both of you, it gave you some sort of high, being able to pull Regina off her own narcissistic pedestal. It was like some sort of addiction; you couldn’t get enough of it “in fact… what better time than right now?” You uttered, as you shot up from your seat. Before either Janis or Damien could sway you out of it, you were already making your way over to the table across the cafeteria.

As you approached, you could see Regina’s eyes flicker towards you, a wry smirk growing on her face. On seeing Regina’s attention shift, the rest of the plastics turned to face your way, which didn’t deter you in the slightest. Having a rivalry with Regina for this long, you were used to all eyes being plastered on you while confronting her. Plus, nothing about Regina’s minions scared you. All they ever seemed to do was blindly follow her around like lost puppies. The only person who you had never understood as being part of the group was Cady Heron. You had sat with her in a couple of your classes, and with the way she spoke, it seemed she so desperately wanted to be her own person instead of being grouped in with the meanest girls in school. This lead to you gaining a small amount of respect for her. A few times you had considered asking her why she still sticks with Regina after seeing the way she treats her, but you knew that would be a whole other mess. Besides, there was a high chance that she’d go running straight to Regina about it. It seemed as though Cady was on the tightest leash out of anyone in the plastics… probably because Regina knew she could be pulled away from her with the right amount of convincing.

Right before you reached the table you noticed Regina stiffen her posture, followed by a groan, “here comes queen lesbo of North Shore”, which was followed by a few snickers from Gretchen and Karen. Funnily enough, Cady remained silent. “What’s up? Couldn’t get enough of me Friday ni-“

You interrupt her by slamming your hands on the table, which not only grabbed the attention of the plastics, but those from surrounding tables too. You lock eyes with Regina as you spoke in a low tone, attempting to control your anger towards her.

“Real cute hearing that you’re telling people I came onto you, when anyone who was there knows we barely even made eye contact.” Regina raised an eyebrow at you, smirk still in place. She then spoke condescendingly, before you could continue.

“Oh honey, of course you don’t remember, you were sooo drunk and all over me, everyone saw it, right Gretch?” You then see her shoot a subtle dangerous look to which Gretchen instantly nodded in response. This amused you slightly, knowing she was laying it on thick. She was trying so desperately hard with this angle that you decided to use her tactics against her for once. You let out a laugh of false amusement before continuing.

“Oh please Regina, you’re trying so hard to convince everyone it’s true, almost as if… you wish it was? I mean it wouldn’t be surprising. I’ve seen the way you stare at me in the hallways, you make it a bit obvious don’t you think?” By this point, the smile on Regina’s face had completely dropped, morphing into a poisonous glare. As she opened her mouth to cut you off, you kept speaking, raising your tone to catch the attention of others. “-so obvious in fact, that I don’t even need to say it out loud, people are whispering about it already. So next time you wanna spread rumours like that, try taking a look in the mirror first.” People around you gasp, hearing you speak to Regina in the same way she would leaves even the queen bee herself in slight shock before she manages to compose herself. You hadn’t even considered the weight of the words you had spoken until they had left your mouth. You had basically just accused her of having a huge crush on you and judging by the state it left her in, it didn’t seem like that was far from the truth.

“So, you are gay?” Karen pipes up first, mouth slightly agape as she speaks. Regina shoots a glare at her this time, making her immediately look in the opposite direction.

It was your turn to smirk seeing her cheeks turn scarlet as she gritted her teeth. She was clearly outraged, the look on her face said so. Yet, hidden behind her eyes, there seemed to be an ounce of shame present. Having a moment to study this look almost made you feel… regret? Though in the next beat, she rose up from where she was sitting and took a few steps towards where you’re stood, towering over you slightly. She had rarely ever made a move to get this close to you before, and standing where she is right now, you could practically smell her expensive perfume. You fought the urge to take a step back, as your breath hitched slightly. For a moment she hesitates, her eyes flicker to your lips for just a split second, but not fast enough that you don’t catch her doing it. If this wasn’t happening in front of the whole school crowd, you would be sure that she was about to lean in and kiss you. You felt yourself taking a heavy breath to steady yourself before she snaps at you.

“Listen, dyke. If you ever catch me staring at you it’s because I think you’re a freak. And if you think for one second, I would ever be into you, then you’re even more delusional than I thought. So why don’t you and the rest of your sad little band of freaks over there, go and-“

She is almost immediately cut off by a teacher who walks over to the group, clearly having been alerted of the altercation going off in the middle of the cafeteria. Regina immediately takes a step back from you and fixes her hair, attempting to seem as innocent as possible.

“Girls, what seems to be the problem?” Ms. Norbury questions, looking between the two of you. With the rest of the plastics keeping silent, it was up to one of you to speak up first. Regina then plasters a fake polite look on her face and turns to Ms. Norbury to speak. Right as you expected her to defame you all the way to your seat in detention, she instead gives a different response.

“There’s no problem, everything’s fine.” Regina smiles at her as you see the rest of her crew nodding behind her, which brings you to scoff at the sudden change up in her demeanour. Having dealt with Regina many times before, it was clear that Ms. Norbury saw right through this attempt to get her to leave you both to it. Which lead to what she had to say next.

“Look girls, I know the two of you have had issues in the past. But I won’t tolerate drama like this during school hours.” She then steps between the both of you. “Now separate this and I’ll see you in my office after school. Both of you.” She then turns on her heel and walks away.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you huff out in disbelief. After this, you decide it’s best to walk away from Regina and return to your table before your day could get any worse. But not before she hastily grips your forearm and subtly whispers some hostile words a little too close to your ear.

“We are so not done, freak” she then roughly drops your arm before coasting back to her seat. Though her threatening remark left you stunned for a moment, her closeness left you breathless for longer. As you made your way back to Janis and Damien, you couldn't get the thought of her out of your head. After all the tension and pent-up anger between you, you secretly hoped she might be right. Because as you stared at her from across the cafeteria, your heart thumped in your chest, not out of fear, but something else. You were definitely not done with each other. Not by a long shot.

#regina george #regina x reader #regina george x reader #mean girls 2024 #cady heron #janis imi'ike #mean girls #regina george x fem!reader #fanfic #mean girls musical #renee rapp #angst #love hate and everything in between

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heathermason6060 · 24 days

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Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.2

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Summary: Reader gives friendships a try, and the first signs of Daryl changing start showing after unexpected tragedy.

Notes: I love writing Merle and early season Daryl, I hope they're in character!

"I'm ten seconds away from blowing his goddamn brains out."

"Not worth the wasted bullets." Daryl watched as Shane stalked back up towards the Greene house. You scoffed and rolled your eyes when you saw him stopping himself from slamming the door, at least needing to respect Hershel gave him some restraint from being a complete piece of shit. You weren't sure how long that would last though.

"Can't fucking stand these people Daryl. He looked like he wanted to kill me."

"Ya called 'em a homewrecker. The hell'd you expect?"

The days would go by without pause, no matter how you all screamed and cried for just one minute, one minute to get it together and breathe. Everything was constantly changing, and it ended up making you colder.

The Greene farm was a nice place. You enjoyed the chores you took on there, you got to work with the horses, the cows, and the old barn cat. He'd end up passing away after a while, which would have really upset you if it hadn't been such a peaceful death, he just fell asleep with a stomach full of deer stew and never woke up.

Andrea's strange half admiration and half disturbed likeness to you strengthened at the time on the farm, which you didn't know how to handle. You'd always wanted a girlfriend, ever since your first one in 6th grade ended your friendship. Your mother had shown up to pick you up from school, so high on Percocet she could barely keep her eyes open. She rear-ended the father of your friend, he got pissed, she spit in his face, and he called the police. ‘My daddy says I can't hang out with trailer trash like you anymore.’ She'd told you the next day.

You secretly liked the way Andrea looked up to you. It was nice having a woman think highly of you, or any adult for that matter. She would often ask for shooting practice, and you even let her try out your bow a few times.

She kind of fucked up your budding friendship when she shot Daryl. If you hadn't been so busy helping him get up into the house you would have shot her in her foot, and that's not an exaggeration. You wanted to stay up in that room with him until he fully healed, willing to sleep on the floor just so you'd be with him at all times, but the insecure fear of being seen as weak and clingy prevented you from doing so. You were out in the woods most of those days, hunting or killing any dead you ran across.

It was almost humiliating the way people would update you on Daryl’s condition. At first it was just Rick letting you know he’d be okay, but then it was Maggie and Hershel updating you on his eating habits, how much he ate, when he ate, he was only in bed for a couple of days, but it felt like weeks. Each time someone would tell you the miniscule details of his day you’d respond the same way, ‘Why’re you telling me? I’m not his mamma’. If you could look past the embarrassment of feeling like a worried child, you would be grateful.

Andrea unknowingly made it up to you when you heard her bitching at Lori in the kitchen once, apparently having enough of her ‘a woman's place is in the kitchen making life worth living, leave the guns to the men' spiel. You complimented her afterwards.

“Been real sick of that shit.” You had said as you loaded your Ruger pistol. “She's lucky it was you who said it, I think I would've punched that bitch in the face if she said that bullshit to me.”

Andrea was almost too stressed over the Beth situation to fully appreciate the gravity of your praise. She nodded as she looked over the field, eyes squinting against the bright afternoon sun, her arms crossed over her chest. “All my life I've heard that kind of thinking from men. It's different when it's a woman telling you that you're not worth the same as a man. Especially when said man lied about her husband being dead and got in her pants right after.”

You smirked, stuffing your gun into the back of your jeans as you looked her over. “Wanna go kill some dead people?”

“Oh, god.” She groaned dramatically. “That's the best idea I've heard all week.”

After you lost the farm, you wound up at an old prison. That was one of the rare times you had allowed yourself to try and be positive, and forced yourself to make friends, although it was obvious all your relationships were strained. Andrea was the only person who had ever made an effort to get to know you, and she was gone.

Shane’s death didn’t affect you much, truthfully you were glad Rick killed him. The constant tension and heated arguments drained you just as much as Dale’s annoying humanitarianism. You attempted being friends with Lori, Hershel, Carol and Beth, despite the young girl being your polar opposite. She was soft, pretty, sweet and bubbly, you were hard, mean, vulgar and distant.

Which might be one of the reasons your relationship with her had started to work. Beth saw you as a challenge, like a mean feral cat, and deep down you saw her as a possible redemption. If you could become friends with Beth, the sweetest girl with the kindest heart, you could do it with anyone.

Lori never trusted you, so you never got far with her. She would look at you with this look on her face, like you were always seconds away from cutting her baby out of her stomach or some twisted shit. You had cursed her out once for said expressions, calling her a stuck-up bitch who thinks every woman that isn't her is beneath her. She died a couple days later, and a part of you that you couldn't push away felt like shit about it, for a very long time.

The whole Governor shit was a pain in your ass. But it was a blessing in disguise, because he was the reason you were reunited with Merle.

“I want to come.” You stood your ground, grabbing your Ruger AR-15 from its spot on your cell wall.

“I said no, we’ve got enough concerns, we don't need to be worrying about you.” Rick tried to speak in a hushed tone, his intentions good, not wanting you to feel embarrassed if the others heard you being denied. They knew you seethed at the prospect of being told what to do. You didn't work well with others, that was glaringly obvious.

“I don’t need you to worry about me.” You hissed, tugging the heavy gun over your back so the strap dug into your shoulder.

Rick repeated your name, using his angry father tone, and that seemed to work. Your shoulders drooped and you growled out a few insults under your breath. You missed when the group members had more say in the way things were. Rick had become more authoritarian after Lori died, and it never affected you until that day.

When they got back you were waiting at the door, pacing like a mother in those movies whose children had stayed out too late. Your eyes brightened as they filed into the prison, you saw Maggie and Glenn were back, and Michonne had returned as well.

Your anxious smile slowly faded as the door closed behind them, counting two missing bodies.

“Where…?” You breathed, looking between Rick and Maggie, your heart racing.

Rick started having a goddamn mental breakdown after that, screaming at the walls and pointing his gun at things only visible to him. Tyrese, the newcomer, and his group fled, and a part of you considered it as well. If Daryl and Merle were dead, you had no reason to stay. Especially not with Rick behaving like a fucking maniac and no one speaking to you.

True to your nature, you abandoned the prison in search of the Dixons. You knew they couldn’t have truly left, they would never do that, they'd never leave and forget you. Especially Daryl. He had promised to you one night after you fully secured the prison, that he was the one thing in your life that would never change. He’d never die, he’d never leave, he would always be there. Not in those exact words, of course, but in his own way.

He had stayed true to his promise. You found the two of them on their way to the prison, traveling through the same trails you’d originally used to find the place.

“Thought I’d never see you two assholes again.” The apocalypse had made you more skilled at hiding your true emotions. You came off as playfully irritated, a contrast to the way you were barely keeping tears at bay.

“Awww,” Merle teased in a condescending tone, faking a pout, “You miss us?”

“No. Rick’s group makes you seem like a peach though.”

“Our group.” Daryl’s voice had taken on a strange edge as he walked ahead of you down the trail. “Those are our people now.”

You glanced at Merle to see he was outwardly displaying your same reaction, rolling his eyes and silently mimicking his brother's words.

No matter how happy you were to see the two of them, Daryl’s reply echoed in your head for a long time. He meant what he said, you could tell by the way he spoke. He was changing, you hadn’t noticed it until that day, he wasn’t the same Daryl from Atlanta, the Daryl you knew. You swallowed your retort and followed him back to the prison.

The Governor shit was really a pain in your ass after that day, making your earlier experiences a walk in the park. Through the tense days you found yourself around Merle more, the two of you discussing the prospect of just getting the fuck out of there in hushed voices, despite you both knowing Daryl would never abandon Ricks group. It was like he had some sort of unknown obligation to them, something you couldn't decode for the life of you, no matter how hard you tried.

“You're gettin’ real close to bein’ a bonafide pussy, boy.” Merle had said one day, shoving his finger in Daryl’s face. You stayed silent as they argued, biting at the soft skin inside your cheek.

“Why? Cause I ain't jus’ lookin’ out for myself no more? Cause I actually give a shit about these people?” Daryl standing up to Merle wasn’t a familiar sight, and it made you feel emotions you really weren’t comfortable with.

“It’s making you weak, brother.” Merle urged, nearly slicing his own scalp when he went to put his hands on his head, the heat of the moment causing him to forget his right hand was now a weapon. “Can't you see it? I ain’t gonna let you die for these sheep.”

Daryl would soon come to regret his last interaction with his brother. You, on the other hand, were lucky enough to have had some peaceful final moments with him before he vanished.

“Dude, that's my fucking bed!” You shoved Merle away from your mattress, groaning when you saw it shredded and ruined. You’d have to go to the other cellblock and get another, if he hadn’t already paid those cells a visit.

Merle sat on the floor breathing heavily through his mouth, resting an arm over his propped up knee.

“The hell you do that for?” You grumbled, kicking a chunk of bedding out of your cell and into the hallway.

“Hopin’ to find some contraband.”

“Dude, you could’ve just asked me. Holy shit.” You grabbed one of your bags from the corner of your room and began to dig through it, finally pulling out Merle’s old stash bag. HIs eyes lit up and he practically jumped for joy, snatching it out of your hands.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” He grabbed your face with his hand and noisily kissed your cheek, making you groan and shove him off. “Oh sweetheart. Whooo! Daryl know about this?”

“No, didn’t want him to know. I’m better at making shit last than him.” You replied. Daryl didn't like drugs the way Merle did, he had his run in with meth and its consequences and he was strong enough to quit and not touch it again. Other drugs were a different story though, you suspected the speed and painkillers would be gone by now if he had known you were the one who stole it.

He fished out the group of smaller baggies he was looking for, full of various shades of white in different textures. He groaned like he just creamed his pants and leaned over, planting another dramatic smooch to your forehead.

You stayed with him on the floor of your cell as he got high, and eventually he left to go ‘clear out the walkers in the tombs’, something you were happy to sit out on. He told you to stay back and you laughed, teasing with a ‘it's all yours, tweaker’.

Even though your last moments with him were pleasant, you never forgave yourself for not accompanying him.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx

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simpingforstardew · 5 months

Text

misty [chapter three]

pairing: sdv harvey x reader

synopsis: harvey has always been a man of routine and order— although just as he begins to tire of his life in pelican town, a new farmer moves to the valley and turns his life around. chapter three.

warnings: poor overworked harvey :(( please enjoy my harvey playlist while you read ♡ (this is crossposted from ao3).

word count: 1.6k

<< last chapter | next chapter >>

The fluorescent lights of the clinic cast a harsh, sterile glow, illuminating the white walls and linoleum floors of Harvey’s small office, casting an unnaturally pale glow over the cluttered desk. The clatter of the doctor’s footsteps on tiled floors echoes through the empty hallways.

Today was supposed to be different. Today was supposed to be his day off.

For the past two weeks, Harvey had been working overtime, sacrificing his days off to update Pravoloxinanone prescriptions, coordinate with healthcare professionals around Ferngill, and arranging appointments for the townsfolk. Turns out that without the distraction of an attractive farmer, the passing work days have been unforgivingly laborious.

He could, in theory, ask Maru to pick up some extra shifts, to stay behind a couple hours more. He knew she was eager to help, but he couldn’t bring himself to burden her further. She had her own responsibilities, attending college lectures online while juggling part-time work at the clinic.

A sudden death rattle of his fax machine shattered the silence, its mechanical whirring cutting through the stillness of the office like a knife— a relentless reminder of the endless stream of tasks demanding his attention.

He glances at the clock on the wall, his tired eyes struggling to focus through the thick lenses of his glasses.

3:30 pm.

Another hour wasted, another day lost to the demands of his job. He sighed wearily, running a hand through his greying hair. Harvey still couldn’t tell if the strands of silver were a testament to his age or his perpetual stress. He didn’t know which answer he would prefer.

He gazed out of his window, watching sparrows gracefully darting through the clear sky above. Dark-eyed juncos, specifically— Junco hyemalis. Harvey’s brief fascination with bird-watching while at University always managed to resurface during moments like this, when searching for an excuse to look away from his work.

The sight stirs something within him, prompting him to break the monotony. Locking himself in his office, Harvey realized, would only consign him to an evening of fatigue. So, he pushes away from his cluttered desk, picking up his green overcoat from the coat rack as he leaves the clinic.

Hurrying down the cobblestone path, Harvey’s mind races with a cacophony of thoughts. He fails to notice you walking his way until it is too late.

You collide with a jolt, and Harvey stumbles backward. The doctor could practically hear his heart pounding in his chest. His dishevelled appearance must have been evident, his fatigue and stress written plainly across his face.

“Oh, shoot, I—,” You panic, rubbing your shoulder bashfully, “I am so sorry, Harvey I-,”

“No, no, It is perfectly fine— I was just, distracted tthinking about a recent article I read about the recent rise of…” His voice trails off, acutely aware of how awkward he must sound, “Whooping… cough.”

“Hm, that doesn’t sound like much fun,” you grimace sympathetically.

“Oh, on the contrary! Pertussis is actually rather fascinating, that reminds me to reach out to Jodi and Shane to see if they can book a vaccination appointment for Vincent and J—”

“You’re doing the thing.” You interrupt, recognising a fellow workaholic when you see one. A kindred spirit.

“What thing? I am not doing a… thing.”

“Sure you are— you’re doing the thing I used to do at my old job,” Your tone gentle but firm. “You grovel and moan over your work, it stresses you out so you take a break, then you realize you’re stuck thinking about the work that was stressing you out!”

“Well, I am a doctor— There is no way for me to not think… I- I have an entire town to look after for Yoba’s sake. ” Harvey retorts defensively.

“Of course, and that’s the problem.”

“That is..?”

In that moment, as you notice the doctor picking as the skin on his fingers, you see the bags under his eyes; the paleness of his skin. You had seen undead creatures in the mines more full of life.

“Who’s looking after you, Harvey?” your voice softens, concern evident in your eyes, “I mean, I don’t want to pry, but I’m not surprised you’re stressed with the weight of the valley on you all the time. But you can’t manage that burden alone. Nobody could.”

“O-Oh, I um—,” Harvey falters, stammering as his defences crumble in the face of your genuine concern, “Appreciate your candour, truly, but you do not need to worry about me. My well-being shouldn’t be any of your…” He huffs, his cheeks flushed.

Despite his larger stature, Harvey’s wide eyes scanning your face anxiously made the man appear small; weak. You ignore the impulse to take his rosy cheeks in your hands, or to clasp his hands to calm his nervous fidgeting.

He clears his throat as his phone rings— a blocky grey mobile, a model you haven’t seen since 2005.

“I- need to take this call, I’m sorry.” He leaves, jogging back to the clinic. As you see him leave, you wonder what exactly he was apologising for.

As you push open the creaky doors of the saloon, the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter wash over you like a warm embrace. The dimly lit room is filled with the scent of aged wood and the tang of whiskey.

“Hey there, stranger!” Sam’s booming voice cuts through the din, drawing the attention of the entire room. His grin is as infectious as ever, and you can’t help but return it as you make your way over to the group by the pool table. Abigail and Sebastian wave you over eagerly, their faces lit up with genuine excitement.

“Hey gang, sorry I got caught up with something,” You drop your backpack on the polished wooden floor as you crash onto the plush sofa next to Abigail.

It’s been years since you’ve all been together like this—no screens or avatars, just flesh and blood friends reconnecting in the real world. You couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you. Sure, Sebastian is now a little taller, Sam a little more pierced, Abigail a little more muscular. Despite what has changed since you last visited the valley to see your grandfather, the gang was still here. And with the way you all slip into conversation, it’s as if you never left.

As you settle in, taking in the familiar faces and the comforting hum of conversation, Abigail leans in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “So, what’s going on with your love life? It seems like every time we’d chat online, you’d either be lovesick or swearing off romance altogether.”

Your smile falters slightly.

It wasn’t as though you weren’t looking for love— if anything, you consider yourself quite the romantic— but with the chaos of the farm, dating seems out of the question.

“I don’t know, Abs. I’ve come to realise that dying alone is underrated,” You quip with a chuckle, hoping a comedic distraction will satisfy as an answer, “Honestly, the freedom of being single rules, you guys should try it some time.”

“Nahh,” Sam lets out a hearty laugh, flopping down on top of you and Abigail with all the grace of a newborn foal, “We’ve got the dating thing down, shout out to your lonely ass though.”

“Sam!”Abigail gasps incredulously, pushing the blonde off with a huff, though there’s a fondness in her eyes that belies her words, “Don’t be an dick!”

You all share a laugh as Sam looks up from his crumpled position on the floor, his puppy-dog eyes silently pleading for forgiveness.

Sebastian places his drink on a nearby table, sauntering over to the three of you, “Well, (Y/n) if you ever need a wingman, you know where to find me.” He smirks at you before picking up the pool cue resting against the wall.

“Pfft, as if they’d pick you to be their wingman when I’m right here!” Sam stands up, looking frantically between you and Sebastian before dropping dramatically to his knees, “Right, bestie? You’d totally trust me to pick you out a partner!”

Before you can imagine what having the punk as your wingman would entail, the bell above the bar’s front door chimes: Elliot strides through the saloon, exchanging greetings with Emily and Gus before running his fingers through his auburn hair. You wonder what shampoo he uses.

The poet’s eyes scan the room until they land on you. “Ah, apologies for the interruption. Have any of you seen Harvey, perchance? This is the second time he has failed to show…” Elliot’s voice trails off, concern etching lines into his chiselled features.

“Oh, I saw him earlier. He seemed,” Overworked? Exhausted? Close to death? “…busy.”

“Ah, well that certainly sounds like him. If you happen to run into him again, do try to convince him to re-join society.” Elliot laughs, although there is no more humour in his statement as there is truth.

As the author leaves, the conversation in the saloon continues to flow. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you might have overstepped with Harvey earlier— the thought gnaws at you.

You don’t know why you are so worried about him, surely he can look after himself; surely it didn’t matter if he has somebody in his life to look after him. You try not to think about somebody else being there for him. Somebody else holding him at night. Somebody else wiping away his tears.

Instead, you force a smile, joining in the laughter, as your concern for Harvey lingers, a shadow over the otherwise cheerful atmosphere of the saloon.

#sdv #sdv fanfic #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv harvey #stardew valley fanfic #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv harvey fanfic #stardew valley harvey #stardew harvey #harvey sdv #sdv harvey x y/n #sdv harvey x you

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itwasthereaminuteago · 7 months

Text

|| Authority ||

Shane Walsh x female reader

Tags/warnings: dirty, sweaty, horny, Shane sex cos that's what I want.

Shane can't help chuckling at your stormy expression and demeanour as you pound an angered path towards the garage store where he's working.

“What's grinding your gears this time darlin’?” He asks, but you only shoot him a fierce scowl in answer.

“Aw nah, you been fightin’ with Rick again?” he guesses. You always had something to say about him almost every other day.

You clench your teeth before answering. “He won't let me lead a group to go check out that boarded up farm we passed a week or so ago. I know there must be some good stuff in there, maybe even fuel and tools!” You kick at the door frame in annoyance. “He says he doesn't think it's worth it, that it's too dangerous and that the others wouldn't listen to me or respect my authority on a trip out there anyway. Fuck him!”

Shane watches you winding yourself up in a rage, your fists bunching till your knuckles are showing through your skin.

“He thinks I'm green but I've got skills! I can help! Why does he have to be such a knowitall asshole lording it over all the rest of us? It ain't fair.”

He catches your wrist before you start punching the wall. “Hey, hey now. You gonna calm down before you break somethin’, like your goddamn fingers?”

You scrunch up your face in annoyance. “Depends. You gonna take his side and tell me I'm just a little girl who should shut up cos she doesn't know anything?”

He looks you straight in the eyes. “Nah, I know you're capable. You just gotta give Rick some time to trust you with it, that's all. Hell, I know he's a grouchy sonofabitch but the system's worked alright so far, huh?”

You growl in defeat.

He's got a point you guess, but it still rubs you up the wrong way how Rick seems to see you as nothing more than a nagging pain in his ass. “Would you follow orders from me, Shane?” you challenge.

He gives you that signature self-assured cocky smile of his. “You bet. I trust your judgement, sweetheart.”

You scoff, actually semi surprised by his seemingly honest response.

“Yeah, sure you would. Whatever.”

You watch him in silence as he moves crates of supplies, some full up with cans and other heavy items, stacking them up against the wall. His vest is damp with sweat, beads of moisture roll down his neck to his broad, glistening chest and you can't help licking your lips.

“Doesn't help that it's so fucking hot today,” you muse, tugging your own shirt away from your sticky skin. Then you settle on an idea.

“I'm going down to the lake. Come with me.”

Shane pauses, glances up. “I gotta finish up this shit…”

You plant your hands on your hips. “Come with me. That's an order, Shane.” You smirk and he catches on, putting the crate down and straightening up.

“S’that so?” He responds with an interested look and you nod.

“Y’said you'd follow my lead, so follow.” you quip, walking out into the blazing heat of the yard towards the gate.

“Might be walkers down there.” He says, grabbing his pistol and knife from the shelf and tucking them into the back of his pants.

You wave your hand carelessly back in his direction as you keep walking. You've got your own weapon on you. “I'm capable, remember?”

Shane rolls his eyes as he catches you up. He's not sure what he's letting himself in for but it's not a good idea to let you go off alone, especially if he expects you've got something to prove.

The lake was a godsend. A welcome actual oasis in this rabid and lethal world that you'd all found yourselves trying to survive. A perk of living in the camp and bearing Rick's questionable leadership. It was small, a now undammed creek running in to fill an old quarry, but it was fairly safe and utterly perfect for dip on a day like this.

The side you came in on had a grassy bank and a large tree growing near, giving some much needed shade before the ground turned to gravel and slate near the water. You scoped out the rim and the shimmering, inviting water for any signs of walkers and once satisfied it was clear, you turned to Shane, planting your palm firmly on his damp chest.

“You, stay.” You command, gesturing at him to sit down.

“What the hell? How come I don't get to cool off?” He complains as he reluctantly sits on the baking hot grass. You cross your arms at the hem of your shirt and tug it up over your head.

“You said you'd follow my orders, didn't you? Don't you trust me?” You grin, slinging your top over a low branch of the tree and then starting to unbutton your pants.

Shane watches unashamedly as you undress in front of him. You had brought him here after all, wanted him here for whatever reason, and he sure as hell wasn't about to complain about the current view he's got. His gaze roams over the curves of your near-naked body as you strip to your well-worn underwear. He's never seen this much of you before, and he likes it.

You make your way to the water's edge, shrieking and then humming with relief as the sudden cold hits your heated skin.

“So what the hell am I s’posed to do? It's as hot as all hell, even in the shade!” Shane calls out.

“Watch for walkers, idiot!” You yell back with a laugh, and wade in deeper into the lake until you can swim. It was such a treat to have this space relatively close to the camp, but it wasn't the only thing you had in mind…

Shane watches you enjoying yourself as he sweats under the tree. You had your own watchful eye on him, near salivating as he eventually pulled his vest off to reveal the rest of that deliciously toned torso.

When you're done you walk slowly out of the lake, shaking off your hair and stalking towards where Shane was lying on the bank. He pushes himself up on his hands, surprised as you straddle his hips, grunting as cool droplets of water fall from your body onto his.

“What are ya doin’?” He asks as you push him back down to lie flat on his back.

“Cooling you off.” You reply matter of factly as you rock your hips down on his crotch, feeling his cock beginning to harden rapidly through your wet panties.

“Yeah?” His voice is husky, his hands finally landing at your waist as you lean in close, grinding yourself against his cock again, feeling him twitch.

“When I first came here, Rick told me to stay away from you, y'know? Said you were dangerous…”

“Fuck…” Shane curses, his fingers gripping at your damp skin and eyes flicking between the sight of your hardened nipples poking through your bra and your wiggling hips on his. “You doin’ this to get back at him or somethin’?” He asks with a slight strain in his voice.

“No...”

Your own fingers start to explore and trail over his chest, scratching briefly at his nipples and on down those washboard abs to hook under the waistband of his pants. You can't help yourself, leaning down, your tongue sliding out between your lips to lick up the layer of sweat from between his pecs. You close your eyes as the satisfying taste of his salty musk hits your taste buds and both you and Shane moan. You lick and kiss your way up to the side of his neck and nip at his earlobe, purring out your desire.

“I just wanted you to fuck me.”

His eyes gleam a dark amber in the sun as he looks up at you. “Yeah? Is that an order too?”

“Do you want it to be?”

You teased the question but he wastes no time, scrabbling quickly to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, pulling his thick cock out of his underwear as you shimmy out of your panties. You'd need to be fast, this was all the foreplay you needed. You couldn't risk any of the others from the camp wandering down here and finding you both.

He was just as big as you had imagined. You weren't at all surprised with the way he would nearly always stride dick first through the camp. When you could, you'd sometimes pass any quiet moments watching him work, whether it was swinging an axe to cut firewood, or patrolling up on the wall. Even if he could be smarmy and bullish he was prime eye candy for sure, and you wanted a taste.

“God… damn.” Shane hisses as you sink down on him, your bodies now as one, feeling your tight, wet heat gripping around his throbbing length. Air leaves your lungs in a gasp as you start to move up and down, and Shane moves his hips upwards in quick, powerful thrusts to meet yours. “Shit… god-fucking-damn!”

“Fuck, Walsh!” You moan as he's stimulating the deepest parts of you, his hands firm on your hips, fingers pressing in harder..

“S'at good?” He grits out, captivated by the feel and look of you moving above him with abandon.

“So good-” you whine. He shifts forward, ducking his head to mouth at the softness of your breasts spilling over your bralet.

“Oh you like that, huh?” he snarls, “yeah, jus’ like that?” He leans back again so he can pound into you even harder, gritting his teeth, beads of sweat rolling down his face and neck to pool at his collarbones with the effort. He snatches the cups of your bra down, letting your tits bounce around, squeezing them hard before he drops one hand down to where your bodies meet, his thumb desperately rubbing sloppy circles over your slick, swollen pearl.

The dry grass presses into your knees as you fuck, your pussy starting to flutter as the tightness at the core of you builds so quickly. You haven't had any form of intimacy for so long that everything you're feeling now is intense, sharp, and needed.

“Don't you dare stop!” You threaten, riding his cock even faster as you near your edge.

Shane is panting, hips bucking wildly.

“Shit-shit-shit baby I'm gonna cum, aw fuck I'm gonna-”

You lift up off of him and rapidly switch to frantically rubbing your pussy and clit along the length of his cock, seconds later his mouth is forming a silent ‘o’ and his pulsing dick is shooting stripes of creamy white over his stomach and chest between you as you topple over with him. Shane hooks his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down and smashing your hot mouths together as you both shudder through your orgasms with a deep shared moan.

You push off of him, laying on your back to his side, both of you panting ragged breaths with the heat and exertion.

“Fuck… oh christ.”

Your satisfied hum turns to laughter when you hear Shane's curses yet again.

“So, do you like a woman that knows what she wants an’ orders you around, Walsh?”

He grumbles, gingerly sitting up and wincing at the sweaty, messy state he's in. ��Mm, I guess only when it's me that she wants.”

He gets up and strips off his boots and pants, and you watch as he takes his gorgeous ass into the lake to wash, dunking his entire body and scrubbing his hands over his face and closely shaved head. You soon follow and when you're done you put your now-dry clothes back on in a silence only disturbed by birdsong and the sound of the bubbling creek.

“We should get back.” You say redundantly, breaking the sudden tension that had formed.

“Yeah.” Shane agrees, not meeting your eyes.

You awkwardly part ways back at the gate, and when you're on shift up on the wall later that night you can't help wondering if you miscalculated, made a mistake.

“Hey.”

You almost jump out of your skin as Shane sneaks up behind you.

You calm your racing heart as you move the barrel of the gun away from him. “Jesus christ, don't do that, I could have killed you!”

He just smirks, holding his hands up in surrender. “Well now I wasn't lookin' for that.” He drawls, and you soften.

“So what were you looking for?”

"You had any more run-ins with Rick today?"

"Uh... no? Why?" You reply, slightly confused.

He shrugs, eyes flitting between the gun you're holding and you. “Just been wonderin’, if maybe you wanna order me around some more?”

#shane walsh x female reader #shane walsh smut #shane walsh fic

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ghostboneswrites2 · 7 months

Text

A Mess || Reader Walsh X Daryl || Part 1

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here, beginning with this series since it was the most popular!

Summary: You grow tired of sneaking suspicions of Lori and your husband sneaking off together. When you finally catch them in the act, a grumpy redneck happens to be the one to help you through it in his own, unconventional way.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, nongraphic depictions of sex, TWD typical violence

You were so sick of him. The way he stood with his hands on his hip, squinting in the Georgia sun as he watched over the camp -- or, more specifically -- watched over Lori.

You respected it at first, when Rick didn't wake up and he told you, "We gotta go get Lori and Carol, (Y/N). We just got to. I gotta do right by him."

You didn't say anything when you were all stopped on the highway, watching the planes drop bombs on the city that was supposed to welcome you into safe refugee centers, and his first instinct was to hold Lori instead of you. You thought she had to be terrified, to lose her man and have to keep their son safe in such trying, unpredictable times. She probably needed that hug more than you, his own wife.

You were young when you married Shane. A drunken night led to one thing, one thing led to a baby, a baby led to another thing; a ring. But, you had a miscarriage after the wedding, and as we all know that doesn't nullify a marriage. Regardless, it wasn't a bad marriage. The relationship was mostly solid. You had suspicions, like when he'd come home from a night out with the other guys on the force with what you could have sworn were faded lipstick stains that he couldn't wipe off well enough, or smelling faintly of perfume and cigarettes. Still, he took good care of you, and you had a fair bit of freedom. He financed your art supplies, bought you records, helped you get back into school.

Your parents never had a good marriage so in comparison, you were doing well for yourself. Better than your mom, who lived on wine and Xanax, or your dad, who worked his fingers to the bone in that office, hunched over a computer, addicted to porn and cigars.

You often wondered if they had survived the initial outbreak, or if they were stumbling around King County somewhere with no heartbeat.

You shook the thought away, eyeing Shane from atop the RV where you were supposed to be watching for walkers. His skin was shiny with sweat. You wondered how long it'd be before he disappeared into the wood again. Funny how Lori always seemed to disappear at the same time, no doubt leaving Dale or Carol to keep an eye on Carl. Funny how since you'd all set up camp there by the quarry, Lori hadn't been able to make eye contact with you. Funny how he had been short with you, yet somehow managed to remain controlling as ever. You weren't allowed out of his sight unless he was already out of yours. You couldn't talk to men like Ed or Merle and his brother. You couldn't touch the guns, not until he showed you how to use one properly. You couldn't go wash up in the quarry unless he was there to escort you at night, which he conveniently never was. You couldn't--

"You alright up here?" Dale asked.

"Oh. Yeah." You shook your head clean of the whirlwind of suspicion.

"Don't seem too focused." He observed.

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry." You said, holding the binoculars to your eyes and turning your attention to the trees.

"Why don't you go on and take a break. I'll keep an eye out for now." He offered.

"Actually, you know what? That would be really great. Thanks Dale." You smiled and passed his binoculars to him. You wanted to protest. Watch duty was your favorite, and just about the only thing you could do to make yourself useful aside from washing other people's dirty underwear.

You climbed down from the roof, expecting to walk over to your husband, but he wasn't where he stood just moments prior.

You turned to Amy, who was sitting on the steps of the RV, fanning herself. It was a particularly hot day.

"Hey. Did you see where Shane went? I just saw him over there." You asked, her pointing to where he once stood.

"I think he went to check the perimeter." She said, holding her hand over her eyes to look up at you without being blinded. It was probably just about noon now with the sun high in the sky.

"Right." You nodded. You scanned the campers around you. "What about Lori?"

She shook her head.

"No, haven't seen her in a while. Carl's over there with Carol. She might know."

You sighed, thanking Amy as you made your way to Carol.

"Hey. Seen Lori?"

"Yeah. She asked me to watch Carl for a bit. Not sure where she went, though."

You felt a heat in your chest. Exactly as you suspected.

You jogged back to Amy. "Hey, which way did Shane go?"

She pointed over to the tree line on your left.

"Thanks, again." You smiled in a thin line as you marched to the woods. You were determined to put an end to this shit, one way or another.

You knew they couldn't have gone far. You had just seen him not five minutes ago. You were sure you could catch up. If the Dixons were around, you'd be half tempted to approach one and ask them to track for you. Probably the younger one. That Merle would probably ask you what you were willing to give in return, and you had a feeling he wouldn't be looking for payment in the material sense. You heard quiet rustling and heavy breaths. You ducked down and made slow, quiet steps, glancing down at the ground periodically to avoid any snapping twigs or overly crunchy leaves. You came to some thicker bushes and brush, crooning you neck to peer over the leaves and thorns.

Your stomach dropped. There it was. His sweat stained white tee, panting over her navy blue tank top that fit rather loosely with all the weight loss. Her jeans and underwear in a little pile off to the side, his gun set right on top. You clenched your jaw. You wanted to storm over and yell obscenities, to kick them both into the dirt. You were stuck, though. You couldn't move. You were so angry that you were cemented in place. Most of all, you were hurt. You were younger than Shane, and younger than Rick and Lori, but somehow, some way you thought Lori was a friend to you. You watched Carl when she and Rick took date nights from time to time, you two grabbed coffee together, went back to school shopping for Carl just to get you out of the house.

It would have been one thing had she not known you, had she been a complete stranger, but she was supposed to be a friend, and Shane, he was your husband. Tears stung at your eyes as your pulse became noticeable under your skin.

That's when you saw something else, a human shape walking up behind them. Could it be? A walker coming to exact your revenge for you? No, you could never be so lucky. It was the Dixon, the young one. His boots were heavy against the forest floor, drawing the attention of Shane and Lori. They both scrambled, Shane standing and buttoning his pants back up as Lori sat and pulled her jeans over her lap to cover herself.

"Hey, man -- I -- We can explain --" Shane stuttered, Lori looking mortified.

"Ain't me ya gotta explain to." Daryl shrugged, glancing over Shane's shoulder at you as you slowly stood to your feet from behind the bushes.

"Look, man. You say anything --" Shane hissed, no doubt gearing up for some halfhearted threat, but Daryl cut him off again.

"Won't have to." He told Shane, throwing another look at you, this time prolonging eye contact.

Shane and Lori followed his gaze and landed on you.

"(Y/N)" Lori breathed.

You tore your eyes from the huntsman, shooting visual daggers at your unfaithful husband and his backstabbing mistress.

Shane took a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face. You said nothing. There was nothing to say. You just looked at Daryl one more time before you turned around.

"(Y/N), come on!" Shane called after you. "Let's talk about this."

You didn't want to. You just stomped your way back to camp, ignoring the curious eyes as you pulled all your things from your shared tent with Shane. You really only had your backpack and a blanket. The two of you shared the sleeping bag and a single pillow, but you didn't want that. It would smell of Shane, and at that moment the thought of him made you nauseous. You took your bag and your blanket, and made your way down to the quarry. Surely that would be the most peaceful place to sleep, by the water, under the stars, away from everyone else.

"(Y/N.)" Shane said from behind you after he likely followed you back. "What the hell are you doin'?" He asked, referring to your backpack and blanket in arms.

"Fuck you." You grumbled.

"C'mon, what are you doin'?" He asked again. You spun on your heel, seething.

"No, Shane. What the hell are you doing?!" You shouted, drawing eyes from all around. You didn't care. In fact, you saw it as an opportunity. "Sneaking off?! Getting your dick wet?!"

"Don't do this here." He said quietly, glancing over his shoulder to where Carol sat with Carl and Sophia. They were all staring in shock, the whole camp. He reached his hands out to grab your shoulders but you stepped back, chest heaving with rage.

"Oh, why? So your girlfriend's kid doesn't know she's getting down and dirty with you in the leaves out there?" You spat back, only loud enough for him to hear. "You haven't touched me in weeks. Not since the night we left home, but you can't keep it in your pants around your dead best friend's wife?"

You shoved his chest with both hands, dropping the blanket to the ground in the process. His eyes grew dark, that pleading expression turning cold.

"I don't give a fuck how sorry you are or aren't. I don't give a good god damn how guilty she feels. I hate you, and I hate her." You added, just to drive the knife in deeper. If they could stab you in the back, you'd stab them in the chest.

"Don't be stupid." He growled.

"Stupid is having unprotected sex in the middle of the woods when your wife is sitting on top of an RV with binoculars. Stupid is fucking your best friend's wife. Stupid is--"

He grabbed your arm with force, dragging you far away from the others. He lened in close to your face, eyes wide with fury.

"You need to stop." He warned.

"I am stopping. I'm stopping all of it. Congratulations, Shane. You don't have to hide your affair anymore. Because you no longer have a wife to cheat on. Oh, and by the way, you suck at hiding it. You both do. The whole fucking camp can see you two disappearing at the same time, every single day. We all see how you look at her, how you play house with her and Carl like your wife isn't sitting ten feet away. Is that what it is? You like making me look like a fool?"

"I'm only gonna tell you once." He hissed, scowling down at you like you were the one who betrayed him. "Keep your mouth shut."

"No problem." You sneered. "I'll keep my mouth shut, and you'll keep your distance."

----

It was dark out. Despite the blazing heat in the daytime, the nights could get pretty chilly, especially down by the water. You didn't mind. You set against the cliff, back rested against your bag, blanket wrapped over you nice and snug. You enjoyed all the stars above. They were hard to see back home, but now, without all the light pollution, they were beautiful.

"Shouldn't be out here alone." A husky voice rasped. You looked down past your feet to see the shadow of an archer, the very one who happened to catch Shane and Lori when you did.

"Nah. If any of those freaks stumble through here, they'll be drawn to the fire and the lanterns. I'm safer than ever over here in the dark."

"Mm." He hummed. "Y'alright? After--"

"After I caught my husband fucking another woman? Yeah. All things considered, I'm better than ever." You scoffed.

"Bein' mad don't mean ya gotta be stupid. Can't stay out here." He insisted.

"Well, my tent is Shane's tent, and the RV is full." You sighed.

"Jus' take mine." He offered.

"Yours." You repeated. "And you're gonna sleep where?"

"Outside. Prefer it that way anyway." He shrugged.

"Yeah, no. I'm not kicking you out of your own tent."

"Ain't kickin' me out if I offer."

"Well, thanks, but I'll be declining that offer."

"Suit yourself." He said as he walked back to camp. Daryl wasn't the type to go out of his way for someone else. In fact, it was rather annoying that you couldn't accept his kindness when he felt obliged to offer it. He saw how you looked when you caught them, the sickening blend of grief and rage. You hadn't done anything to deserve that, at least to his knowledge, yet you were the one with nowhere to sleep. It didn't sit right with him.

He remembered something, though. A bottle of whiskey he had stashed away in his tent. If he couldn't convince you to sleep somewhere warmer and safer than on the bed of red clay by the water, maybe you'd accept something to take your mind off it all.

He ducked into his tent and grabbed his bottle, paying no mind to his fellow survivors all huddled around the fire making small talk. Lori and Shane sat near each other, Carl in between them talking to Shane about his favorite heroes, Shane telling him stories about his dad.

Shane's eye caught Daryl as he made his way down the quarry with a bottle of liquor, no doubt on his way to you. He felt a heat in his chest, the same kind you felt when you found him rolling in the dirt with Lori. She noticed his sudden tension and followed his gaze. She looked back to Shane with worry, attempting to calm him with her eyes.

Daryl found you laying on your side, backpack under your cheek like a pillow.

"Ya sleep?" He asked.

"No." You said, monotone and irritable.

"Ya like whiskey?"

You sat up. Of course you liked whiskey, this is the south.

"You have some?" You inquired. He held the bottle out to you and you took it, twisting off the cap and taking a large swig. "Thanks."

"Ain't a gift." He clarified. "But ya look like you could use a drink."

He sat down a foot away from you, facing the water. You passed the bottle back to him.

"Well, thanks for sharing."

"Mhm."

"What would you do?" You asked him.

"Huh?"

"I mean if you had a wife out here and you caught her fucking someone else."

"Kick her outta my tent." He said.

"And if it was her tent?"

"Too bad. Shouldn't've been sleepin' around." He shrugged, swigging the bottle and passing it to you.

"Uhuh." You nodded, sipping. "What else?"

"You askin' me for advice or somethin'?"

"Something like that." You guessed.

"Well I'd probably kick his ass for fuckin' my wife knowin' I was right there."

"Mm. I'd love to but I can't exactly whoop someone who still has to look out for a kid."

"Guess ya just gotta ignore 'em." He suggested, taking the bottle as you handed it over.

"How? I live with them."

"Want me to kill 'em?" He joked. You chuckled.

"Kinda." You admitted.

"Mm. Too easy. I'd tie 'em up outside the city and leave 'em to the walkers."

"Oh, you've put thought into this?" You asked. He tipped the bottle bac and took a gulp.

"Nah. If I did I'd have somethin' more creative."

"The hell's this?" Shane asked, suddenly looming over the two of you.

Daryl stood up. "Just havin' a drink." He said, eyeing Shane.

"With my wife?" Shane stepped forward, so Daryl did too.

"Looks single to me." Daryl shrugged. He didn't come over with the intentions of making a move on you. Really he hadn't noticed you around at all. He, however, also wasn't one to back down from a fight, and he already had a distaste for the ex-fed, self proclaimed leader.

"What?" Shane asked through gritted teeth, swaying as he grew more antsy to take a swing.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that Shane?" You sighed, standing up. You weren't phased by his sudden intrusion, you knew him too well to be surprised.

"Yeah, why don't ya go back to sleepin' with the widow?" Daryl added. That was enough for Shane. He threw the first punch, but Daryl recovered quickly, getting a good knock to the ribs in before you inserted yourself between them, one hand to each man's chest.

"Can we chill with the dick-measuring contest? He brought me a drink because he felt bad for me. Nothing else, because unlike you," you said to Shane, "some men are capable of keeping their willies tucked away."

"Yeah, right, like he wasn't just waitin' for you to get drunk and start feelin' vengeful." Shane spat.

"I don't fuck drunk girls, asshole." Daryl spoke up. "That's for cops and losers."

"Man, you think you can take me? You want a piece of this?" Shane started to raise his voice now.

"Yeah, c'mon then, prick." Daryl said, throwing his arms up. The two men stepped in circles around you as you tried to keep a barrier between them.

"Yeah, come on then, pussy!" Shane shouted.

"Pussy? Nah, man. You're the coward, slidin' your dick in some vulnerable window when ya had a tight piece o' ass right here waitin' for ya every night!" Daryl yelled back.

"What is goin' on here?" Lori came in, eyes blazing between the three of you.

"Wha'd'ya waitin' for, man? There's your side piece, go on and get her!" Daryl said.

Shane lunged forward and you gripped around his torso tight, banking on the hope that he wouldn't hurt you to get past you, at least nit in front of her.

"Don't fuckin' talk about here like that!" Shane seethed.

"Yeah well ya sure didn't care 'bout me callin' your wife a tight piece of ass! I see where your priorities lie!"

You couldn't afford to get distracted with the details as you put all your focus and strength into holding on to Shane to prevent anyone from getting hurt. However, the Dixon made some valid points.

"Stop it, you two!" Lori begged.

"Hate to say it," you strained against Shane's strength, digging your feet into the dirt as his strong frame fought against you. "But I'm with Lori."

"Y'all need to calm down before--"

"Is everything okay?" Dale's voice sounded from behind Lori, cutting her off. Amy, Andrea, and Morales stood with him. Lori sighed and put her hand over her forehead.

Shane finally relented and you gratefully let go of him, turning to face the crowd of onlookers.

"What happened here?" Dale inquired.

"He was makin' a move on my wife." Shane panted, still coming down from the surge of adrenaline and rage.

You scoffed, gawking at his audacity. You glared at Lori for a moment, running your tongue over your teeth before you shook your head and chuckled.

"No, he brought me a drink because he felt bad for me, sleeping out here alone." You corrected.

"Why are you sleeping all the way out here?" Andrea asked, shaking her head with confusion.

"Yeah, it's really not safe. You should be up there with us." Amy added.

"Yeah, Shane, Lori." You cocked your head to the side, crossing your arms as you looked between the two of them. "Why am I sleeping all the way out here? Hm?"

Lori looked at you with wide, anxious eyes as Shane just shot daggers at you and Daryl. Lori looked back to everyone else, who seemed to be confused, except for Dale who had a knack for picking up on things.

"Maybe we should head back to camp. It's getting late." Dale suggested.

"I'm good." You rolled your eyes. "Thanks for ruining yet another peaceful moment." You said to Shane.

"I'm confused." Andrea spoke up.

"Oh, allow me to clarify." You smiled, sickeningly sweet. Lori shook her head at you, but you ignored her. "Shane, my husband, and Lori, have been keeping a secret from us. Care to share with the class?"

"(Y/N), man, come on. Why you gotta start problems?" Shane let out an exasperated sigh.

"No? Okay, allow me to speak on your behalf, then. My husband has been fucking Lori, who, if you guys weren't aware, is married to Shane's best friend, who he claims is dead." You said.

God, did that feel good.

Everyone looked stunned, save for Lori who just looked humiliated and mortified, and Shane, who was more pissed than anything else.

"Some leader, huh? A real honest guy." You added, just to add insult to injury. Salt in the open wound, if you will.

"Oh...kay... Why don't we just.." Dale was at a loss for words.

"Maybe (Y/N) can stay in the RV with us." Amy suggested.

"Yeah, I think that'd be just fine." Dale agreed.

"No need." You looked to Shane, smirking. "Daryl here has offered his tent."

Daryl shot you a look. He had no intentions of being your pawn in some twisted revenge scheme.

"You did?" Andrea asked.

Daryl nodded. "Yeah, told her she could have it 'til she figures somethin' else out."

"And you're gonna sleep... Where?" She wondered.

"Outside." He shrugged.

Shane scoffed and shook his head, hands rested on his hips in that police stance you had grown to hate. Your nostrils flared at him in disgust.

----

"Why'd ya do that?" Daryl asked. You were all back at camp now. He was grabbing some essentials from his tent to make room for you. "Make it like it was somethin' it ain't?"

"What do you mean? I told the truth. You offered your tent."

"Nah, you wanted to get under his skin." He shook his head at you as you stood with your bag over your shoulder and your dusty blanket balled up in your arms.

"I mean, yeah, but--"

"But nothin'. I ain't gon' be part of your revenge and I damn sure ain't gonna be no rebound dick to ride 'til ya feel better." He cut you off before he stormed away.

Taglist || Masterlist

#daryl x reader #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl x female reader

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