#Shane walsh

[ryisbread]

GUYS THAT IS THE PEC BOUNCE I HAVE BEEN ON ANS ON ABOUT

f— them all good.

[wannabespacesmuggler]

D.D. | Shane's Girl [13]

Part Thirteen | 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: Shane Walsh & Merle Dixon are the worst, angst, canon violence, mentions of tobacco use, story follows the show but dialogue and events are paraphrased, abusive behavior, a very slow burn

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: I've been on kind of a roll with this series lately. It's just all been flowing nicely and I've felt super excited to write each new chapter. Thank you for all the love you've shown this fic over the years, but especially for the last two chapters. It's been so heartwarming. Let me know what you all think and if you want to be added to the taglist.

Your knees ache as your feet pound against dark, uneven asphalt. Glenn leads the group through back alleys and side streets while Rick and Daryl silently take out any lone walkers you run into as you all make your way back to the box truck. You and T-Dog trail behind the other men, carrying the gear you’ve all picked up in the city. Glenn turns down another narrow passage, and finally, the five of you can see the train tracks where you left the vehicle. But the sight is not one of relief. Instead, panic rises quickly in your chest as you notice that the box truck is missing. 

“Where the hell’s our truck?”

Daryl spits the question out through gritted teeth; crossbow raised as he observes his surroundings for any sign of an ambush. He doesn’t like this. Without a vehicle, the five of you are vulnerable. You all either need to move or find shelter — standing out in the open isn’t an option. Glenn takes his baseball cap off, running his hands through his dark hair, before responding to Daryl’s question. 

“We left it right here. Who would take it?”

“Merle.”

Daryl lowers his crossbow as Rick says his brother’s name. As much as he hates to admit it, the sheriff is probably right. His brother probably thinks he was left for dead, handcuffed to that roof — and he ain’t the forgiving type. Daryl nervously chews on his bottom lip as he makes eye contact with Rick. Rick waits for Daryl to blow up at the insinuation, but the youngest Dixon simply nods at his statement. 

“We gotta go. He’s gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp.”

Rick’s jaw clenches as he takes in Daryl’s words, but he composes himself before addressing the rest of the group. 

“Alright, drop anything we don’t need. We don’t have a vehicle, but we need to make it back to camp — fast.”

“How are we going to do that?”

Rick locks eyes with T-Dog, and you let out a tired sigh as you look at one of your oldest friends. You know that expression — you’ve seen it countless times. And you know you’ll hate the following words that come out of his mouth.

“We run.”

You rarely hate being right, but right now, you loathe how well you know Rick Grimes. Before you can ask what you’re supposed to do about the heavy duffle bag full of guns hanging off your shoulder, Daryl takes it from you with ease. He adjusts his crossbow to fall across his chest while the duffle bag rests against his back. A part of you wants to get defensive and insist that you can handle it, but you’re more impressed by how little Daryl reacts to the extra weight he’s carrying. The five of you give each other one last look before breaking off into a jog back towards camp. 

If you thought the hour drive to the city was long, the run back is excruciating. Your lungs burn as you keep pace with Glenn behind Rick and Daryl. Your lungs might feel like they’re on fire, but at least it means that you’re alive. And even if you thought about slowing your pace, Daryl’s occasional glances back to you are enough to keep you focused on putting one foot in front of the other.  

You glance at Glenn nervously as the sun sets behind you, noticing that T-Dog has fallen behind slightly due to the weight of the toolbox on his left-hand side. Glenn notices and spares an amused look back at his friend.

“You holding up, T-Dog?”

There’s a grin plastered to Glenn’s face as he asks the question. T-Dog rolls his eyes before quickening his pace slightly.

“Shut up, Glenn.”

Hours pass. And as your breathing becomes more ragged and your sweaty clothes cling to your body uncomfortably, you begin to believe that you may never make it back to camp. That is until a deafening scream rips through the eerily quiet woods. You share a panicked look with Glenn as Rick breaks off into a dead sprint towards the sound. Before you can follow suit, Daryl grabs your shoulder. 

“Don’t matter what’s there, just get your knife out and stay behind me. Okay?”

He searches your eyes as you nod frantically at his request. He huffs out a frustrated breath as the rest of you chase after Rick who has started cutting through the treeline, abandoning the dirt path you’ve been following. Daryl has his crossbow raised, and you've got a white knuckle grip on the knife in your right hand. As the five of you stumble out of the treeline and into camp, you let out a panicked gasp. To your surprise, Merle is not the culprit of the chaos, but instead, a small herd of walkers that just so happened to have wandered into camp. Rick, T-Dog, and Daryl immediately throw themselves into the action, but your entire body freezes as your eyes land on Amy’s bloody body on the ground nearly fifteen feet from the RV. 

No. It can’t be. You were all supposed to be safe here. Shane promised that you were all far enough away from the city — that there was no way walkers would make their way up here.

You shake yourself out of your momentary paralysis, wiping the tears from your eyes with the back of your free hand before rushing into the confusion with Glenn. The two of you make sure the children are accounted for and that everyone without a weapon is hidden from the carnage as Rick, Daryl, and T-Dog make quick work of the walkers with Shane’s help. You usher Jacqui into an empty tent, telling her to stay put until someone gives the all-clear before looking around the camp for any more stranglers. Your eyes land on Daryl, who shoots another walker straight between the eyes. He moves to reload, missing the walker approaching him from behind. Your grip tightens around the hilt of your knife as your feet move on their own accord.

“Daryl, behind you!”

You watch in horror as Daryl turns, and the walker grabs him by the shoulders. Daryl’s footing staggers as he drops his crossbow. He attempts to grab the knife at his side, but holding the walker back from biting into his flesh is taking all of his strength. Your legs move as fast as physically possible to make it to him in time, and you don’t think twice before plunging your knife into the back of the walker's skull. Daryl releases his hold as the walker becomes deadweight in his arms and turns to you with a bewildered expression. You look down at your shaky hands, dropping the bloody knife and taking a step away from the body.

“Hey.”

Your eyes shoot up to Daryl, who has ducked his head down to meet you at eye level. His chest is heaving, but the look in his eyes isn’t panicked. No, he’s looking at you with a gentleness and appreciation that seems misplaced in your current predicament — like you just saved his life. 

“I killed him.”

Daryl nods at your words before speaking.

“You had to.”

You did save his life. So why does the sight of the walker’s corpse make you want to throw up? You’re disgusted as you look down at the bloody knife. Not by the scene before you but by yourself. 

“Is it over?”

Your voice feels small and far away from your body as you look back up at Daryl. He looks around the camp — at who’s left after the devastation — before nodding. You let out a tired sigh before turning on your heel without another word. There’s only one thing on your mind as you make your way towards the RV: Amy. 

Daryl picks up his crossbow and your knife before following after you. He stops short as he watches you approach Andrea and Amy. You crouch down beside your friend’s body and hug Andrea. He doesn’t particularly like you being so close to Amy’s corpse, but he knows you need to say goodbye. He doesn’t want to take that closure away from you, so he makes his way to the front of the RV and slides down to sit on the ground. He’s far enough away that he can’t hear your conversation but still close enough to step in if anything happens. 

You know he’s watching over you as you console Andrea, and you find comfort in it. Andrea’s arms are tight around your body as she sobs into your shoulder, explaining that she was excited to celebrate her sister’s birthday tomorrow. You just hold her tighter, assuring her that this is not her fault. Eventually, Andrea pulls away and asks for a moment alone with her sister. You nod, tears rolling down your face as you hold Amy’s hand one last time. Finally, you tear yourself away from your friend’s lifeless body and make your way over to Daryl.

“You ‘lright?”

You slide down next to him, shoulder brushing against his. Your head leans back against the RV, and you can feel Daryl’s eyes on you as you take a shaky breath. You know you look like a complete mess, and your hands are still shaking at your sides, but he’s looking at you with a tenderness that makes you want to sob. 

“Feels like you’ve been asking me that question a lot lately.”

In spite of the circumstances, a huff of air escapes through Daryl’s nostrils — the closest thing to a laugh that anyone will hear tonight. The sound makes your lips quirk up into a small, sad smile.

“Lot’s been going on.”

He’s right. The last three days felt like a month, and you’re left with nothing but exhaustion. And today was nothing less than hell on earth for you, but you cannot shake off the feeling that this is just the beginning.

“Nothing’s going to be the same now, is it?”

You know the answer. 

After witnessing the destruction and mayhem in Atlanta firsthand. After taking down your first walker — knowing that even though their only instinct is to kill, it was once a person with dreams and aspirations. After watching a close friend meet a gruesome, untimely demise.

You know nothing can go back to the way it was. 

Daryl sighs, looking at you with a disheartened expression. It’s the first time he’s dropped his composure since you’ve both gotten back to camp.

“Nah, I guess not.”

His voice is strained, brimming with unspoken sadness and frustration. Your heart aches at the realization that he’s also had one hell of a day. After all, Daryl lost someone today as well. Your brow furrows as you peer at the man sitting beside you. A single question ricochets through your brain as you watch him pick at his thumb.

“Are you going to leave now?”

The question makes sense to you, and you’re expecting him to say yes — bracing for a goodbye that you’re not prepared for. But Daryl physically recoils at your words, and confusion washes over his tired features. 

“What are you talking about?”

“I figured with Merle still out there…”

Daryl’s face softens as you trail off. Oh. Merle was the last thing on his mind after everything that happened today. The hope he’d felt after seeing the trail of blood and realizing that Merle had managed to cauterize the wound immediately disappeared after he witnessed how many walkers there were in the city. Merle is headstrong and resilient; however, at the end of the day, he’s still just one man. Maybe if he were a better brother, finding Merle would be the only thing on his mind. Daryl knows that several weeks ago, he would have left without a second thought, not stopping until he found his brother’s body. But things have changed. It may be selfish, but after everything that happened today, the only concern on Daryl’s mind is keeping what’s in front of him safe. But anxiety suddenly courses through his veins as he realizes maybe that’s not what you want. 

“Do you want me to leave?”

Daryl cringes at his words. Maybe Merle was right. Maybe he is already whipped for a woman he barely knows. Because if you told him to leave right now, he would. He’d leave in the dead of night without another word. But he hopes that you don’t. Even though it makes him feel strange and uncomfortable, Daryl finds himself hoping that you ask him to stay. 

And you’re at a loss for words as you take in the vulnerability deeply etched into his expression. Even though you’ve known him for weeks, you feel like this is the first time you’ve actually seen Daryl Dixon. His stoic, hardened demeanor cracks for just a second, and the importance of this moment doesn’t escape you. Finally, you manage to shake your head at his question. Daryl smiles at that — genuinely smiles. And the sight is a breath of fresh air on your worst day. 

“Then I’m not going nowhere.”

You nod, biting back a smile before falling into a comfortable silence. Daryl leans his head back to look at the night sky. It seems so strange that after all the carnage he witnessed today, he can still find beauty in little things like stars — or how your breathing evens out beside him as you fall asleep. He knows you’d have a better night’s rest in your tent, but he doesn’t make an effort to wake you. He’s painfully aware that you technically still share a tent with Shane, and he really has no interest in going back to his empty tent filled with Merle’s belongings, so he just continues to sit next to you. And although every muscle in his body tenses as you lean your head against his shoulder, he doesn’t falter. 

He promised you he wasn’t going anywhere, and he meant it. 

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[dlivee]

Jon Bernthal:

• One of the biggest zionists in Hollywood and a massive supporter of the IDF

• Supports domestic abuser Shia LaBeouf and had him on his podcast to start his redemption tour

• Friends with sexual abuser Marilyn Manson

• Supports police fascism

• Worked with Roman Polanski post conviction

[gutsby]

Best Served Cold

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓

Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.

A lot.

You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.

Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.

Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.

The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.

The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.

“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.

You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.

A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.

You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.

You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.

Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.

“Ya done pissin’ or what?”

You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.

You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.

“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.

At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?

You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.

“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”

Ah.

At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.

So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.

Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.

In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.

“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.

You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.

When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.

Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.

“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.

Daryl managed a curt nod.

Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”

You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.

“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.

Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.

You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.

Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.

He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.

“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.

He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.

“I was jus—” Daryl started.

“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”

You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.

But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.

Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.

The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.

You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.

“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.

You almost choked on your spit.

“What?”

“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”

You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.

“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.

“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.

If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.

“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”

And Shane was community dick. Made sense.

You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.

Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.

“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.

You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.

“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”

“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.

“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.

“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.

You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.

“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”

You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.

“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.

In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.

“Shane, I don’t wanna—”

“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.

“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.

When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.

The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.

“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.

You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.

Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.

“Y/N!” he bellowed.

In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.

You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.

Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.

Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.

Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.

At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.

You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.

“Dar— oh!”

Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.

“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.

“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.

“Told him no,” you murmured back.

You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.

“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.

“Don’t. Please,” you said.

“Did he—”

“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”

“Oh.”

Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.

You felt aroused.

Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.

You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.

“You think maybe—” you started.

“Yeah?”

“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”

Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.

“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“Just…jerking off to you.”

He never had been any good at a bluff.

Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.

“Yeah? What about?”

Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.

“I…well…”

“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”

Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.

“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.

You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.

He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.

You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.

You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.

You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.

“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.

“Daryl!”

“Daryl?”

Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.

Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,

“Yeah?”

“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”

Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.

“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.

“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”

You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.

You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.

Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.

“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.

“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”

‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.

“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.

He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.

You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.

Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.

“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.

Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.

That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.

But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.

“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.

“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”

You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.

And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—

“Eat shit, Walsh.”

“Just help me out. Please.”

Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.

With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.

A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.

You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.

Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.

When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.

[tempobaekh]

im rewatching squid game and the end with gi hun and sangwoo reminded me SO MUCH of rick and shane please tell me y’all see it😔

[grimesgirll]

back when you were shane’s girl, rick would barely look at you.

it didn’t matter that shane was banging lori behind both your backs. rick was still nothing if not wildly respectful.

you could’ve used the company back then on the farm when your relationship with your boyfriend was slipping. when quiet tent quickies weren’t enough for you.

now, what would shane think of the girl he thought wouldn’t be able to go on without him, happily getting her guts rearranged by his best friend?

rick had held out as long as he could but with lori long gone and carl not taking up any issue, there was no reason to deny himself you. in the wake of all that tragedy, there was nothing better to ease his mind than your sweet, sweet cunt.

shane would be seriously pissed off to learn that not one but both of your holes were being filled by your fellow original atlanta camp members.

the archer that ground his gears so much was taking up your mouth with his cock, enjoying the way that every thrust of rick’s sent you straight down his length.

if shane was in the room or even in the hallway, he wouldn’t be able to miss the downright debaucherous sounds coming from the three of you. rick lands a light slap on your ass, a reminder that you’re not the only ones within these walls. rick was nothing if not wildly polite.

you wiggle your hips back into him in response, feeling your core tighten as daryl fucks your mouth. shane could never fill you up this way: he was one man after all.

the record time that shane had you soaked and coming undone was nothing compared to how fast rick and daryl warmed you up. if they even breathed in your pussy’s direction you were suddenly squeezing your legs and starting to drip with arousal.

you miss shane, but even as you clamp down on rick in your pussy and hum around daryl in your mouth, you remember that everything happens for a reason.

[lunajay33]

Suppose to be You

•🖤🍑🏹🧟‍♀️•

Summary: You’re Shane’s girlfriend but when the apocalypse hits you find him changing and find yourself leaning more towards the only person who gives you the time of day, also you’re Rick’s younger sister

Pairing: Shane x f!reader, Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: Shane’s a cheater obvi, harsh words, Merle

•Masterlist•

I first met Shane when my older brother Rick first started bringing him around the house, I never thought much of him but as we got older he started flirting and we only started dating when I turned 22, about a year ago, it’s been fun but then I lost my brother and then the world got taken over by walkers and that leads to now, camped out in a quarry on the outskirts of Atlanta

We took my sister in law, Lori and my nephew with us but after being here for a while Shane’s been treating me differently, like I’m just a burden to him

Sitting around the fire I’m sat across from Shane as he’s right next to Lori, I understand him wanting to console her her husband died, but he was my brother and I’m Shane’s girlfriend I just thought he’d try to console me even just a little

“You alright sweetie?” Dale asks from next to me

“Oh I’m fine thanks for asking though” I smile trying to brush it off but inside I’m hurting deeply like I’m loosing everything

“I think I’m just gonna head to bed early” I say standing up to leave, all Shane did was glance at me before his eyes went back to the fire, Carl got up and gave me a quick hug

“Night auntie y/n” he smiles, he’s always been the sweetest kid

“Night honey” I walk away as the cool of the night started to envelope me, instead of going back to the tent I went down to the quarry shore, I knew how to take care of myself around walkers I just need to be alone

I sat down feeling all the pressure weighing down on my chest, I lost my brother, then the world ends and now my boyfriend treats me like garbage, what else do I have…….whats the point

Finally letting the tears fall I let it all out before I hear branched snapping behind me, I turn nervously wiping the tears away sighing in relief when I realize it’s just Daryl Dixon, thankfully not accompanied by his ass of a brother Merle

“What’re ya doin down here alone” he asks his eyes squinted at me but for some reason he didn’t make me nervous

“Ummm just needed to get away, what’re you doing down here?”

“Just came back from a hunt saw ya down here……wanted ta check on ya”

My heart skipped a beat, something I haven’t felt in a long time now

“Come on let’s get ya ta bed” he huffed motioning back towards the path, it was a silent walk up to the camp but it was a comfortable silence

I got to mine and Shane’s tent when I hear his fast heavy footsteps heading our way

“The hell are you doing alone with Daryl Dixon” he groans gripping my arm and roughly pulling me away from Daryl

“Shane that hurts, he was just keeping me company” I look back at Daryl and I swear if looks could kill Shane would definitely be dead on the ground

“Get lost Dixon, go back to your dick of a brother” Daryl’s eyes landed on mine and I could see them soften before he left, the further the got the more I wanted to run to him instead of being near the person I should be safe with

“The hell were you thinking”

“Like you’d care” I sigh looking down to the ground

“What’re you talking about you’re my girlfriend of course I care”

“I can’t do this right now Shane I just wanna go to bed, I think I’m gonna stay with Carl tonight, Lori can stay with you bet she’ll love that” I brush him off and walk past him to the smaller tent Carl and Lori stayed in, thankfully they were still out so I could just finally have a moment of peace

How could I feel more peace and safety around a redneck man that I barely know, than my boyfriend I’ve known almost my whole life

I quickly drifted off to sleep welcoming the darkness

•

I woke up early the next morning to the subtle chirping of birds, I quietly left the tent trying not to wake up a still sleeping Carl

Looking around there wasn’t anyone up yet so I went at sat at the camp fire that still had some embers burning

“Hey, what’re ya doing up so early” I hear next to me seeing it’s Daryl again, usually he’d have a snippy attitude with the others in the camp but lately he’s been nice to me and I honestly didn’t care why I just needed someone to cheer me up

“Just couldn’t sleep much I guess, I’ve got a lot on my mind” I say poking at the fire

“Here” he grunted handing me a granola bar he must’ve gotten from his stash

“Thanks”

Then he was gone dissapearing through the thick tree line most likely going for a hunt again

Slowly people started to filter out of their tents and start getting ready for the day, I see Shane making his way towards me with his typical scowl that he never use to use towards me, I look away and turn my back to him

“Have you calmed down since last night” I scoff looking up at him as he towered over me trying to scare me asserting his dominance

“Just leave me alone, you only act like I matter when someone else is giving me attention, tell me do you even love me anymore?” He paused for a moment before answering

“Of course you just gotta stop being selfish I’m trying to console a grieving widow”

“Yeah well he was my brother Shane, did you forget that, just get away from me” I brush past him going towards the trees for some peace and quiet but when I’m deeper in the woods I feel him behind me squeezing my shoulder and he pushes me against a tree

“Shane what are you doing let me go”

“You better watch your mouth don’t forget who saved you when all this started” now he’s trying to guilt trip me

“I could’ve made it on my own, I probably would’ve been happier alone” he raised his hand before a bow zipped between us landing on the tree next to us

“You touch her like that again don’t think I would beat your ass down” Daryl growled coming closer taking my hand and putting me behind him as he stared down Shane

“You think you could take me Dixon, you may be a filthy redneck but don’t think I won’t take YOU”

“Shane just go away, why don’t you go check on poor Lori” I say holding onto Daryl’s arm tighter out of fear, a fear I’ve never felt around Shane before

He huffed before tromping off back towards the camp, when he was far enough away I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I let all the emotions flood me

“God Daryl I’m so sorry to get you mixed in this, I don’t…..I don’t know why he’s like this, he never us to treat me like this and I’m…..I’m scared to be around him now” he takes both my shoulders in his hands and makes me face him gently

“It ain’t yer fault peach, I’ve been around my share of angry men and he’s a ticking time bomb, ya can’t be stay around him”

“If you can’t tell I don’t have no where else to go” my chest felt like it had a thousand bricks on it

“Ya can stay next ta me, we got an extra tent”

“Are you sure, what about Merle won’t he be mad”

“I can deal with that grump, come on let’s get ya settled” I’ve never heard Daryl speak so much but I can’t complain he’s like my saviour right now

•

We got the little tent sat up next to him that was a bit further away from the others but I didn’t care much, the further I am from Shane the better

“Thanks for all this Daryl” I say as we both finally settle down around the fire he sat up since night was falling

“Look at this, my lil bro got himself some tail” Daryl was cut of before he could speak by Merle’s grating voice as he plopped down across from us at the fire

“Merle give it up”

“She staying here now, good ta know we got some action right next door” he grins that sends unsettling chills down my spine

“I’m not doing that Merle for the thousandth time, I just needed some space”

“Finally figured out yer cop boyfriend is cheatin on ya?” My heart stopped, suddenly everything made sense, why he always stayed with Lori, why they’d both dissapear at the same time, why Lori could barely look me in the eyes

“Oh my god I feel so stupid how did I not notice I must look so pathetic to everyone” I groan as I drop my head in my hands

“He dont deserve ya, he’s the pathetic one” Daryl said softly as I heard Merle’s steps retreating into his tent, Daryl must’ve shooed him off

“You know why my brother first got shot I was a mess, couldn’t leave his side I was always so filled with anxiety I was basically wasting away but one day Shane convinced me to take a day to myself so I did, I went home and cleaned up and everything, the next thing I know Shane is busting in dragging me to the truck telling me everyone is dropping like flies and my brothers dead, then suddenly he treats me like a piece of trash, only Lori mattered, and…..he almost hit me today, that’s not the man I knew something’s wrong with him, sure he’s always been a bit hot tempered but this is different and all I can think about is……what is he comes after me again but no one’s there to help me” I sigh finally letting everything off my chest

“Ya ain’t goin no where alone anymore, I’ll protect ya” he said gently placing a hand on my back for a moment before it was gone again

“I can’t ask that of you, I’m not your problem”

“Believe it or not, yer the only person in this camp that doesn’t drive me up the wall, I’d like ta keep ya around a lil longer” he smiled as his words cheered me up a bit, I’ve never seen him genuinely smile and it’s making me feel all light headed

“Let’s head to bed……it’s been a long day” I stand up heading to my little tent as he did his next to mine

“Night D”

“Night Peach” his gaze stayed on me for a moment longer before he entered his tent, only making me think what life would be like if I had met Daryl first maybe I’d me happier

•

Part.2<-

[freaking-bats-reblogs]

As a person with a big brother who’s been calling me weirdo since I was a child, these scenes with Shane are always so cathartic. I really love when he getting humanized, Shane wasn’t always the insane POS that he is at the end of Season 2 and I love seeing that explored!

Redemption Arcs

What -- Nobody is past hope and everyone deserves a redemption arc. You finally talk with big brother Shane following you catching his flirting with unreceptive, scared Lori.

When -- in between season 2 episodes Chupacabra and Secrets. In the Slowpoke Series, after Thank you, angel

Relationships -- You and Daryl are the canon compliant slow burners of the series. In this chapter, Shane gets vulnerable.

Perspective -- 2nd person

Pronouns -- n/a

TWs -- some language

Word count - under 5,000

Masterlist -- Shiny and Official one here and Chronological one here

What small but good news do you have? -- been wanting that maturity label off Invisible, tugging strings Part 2 since April, and it was finally successfully removed without glitching back again! (took about 9 removals to stick)

If you are a new Slowpoke and haven't read any other stories in the series yet, I recommend reading He hasn't been himself before this one!

..........................................

Carol first takes another sip of tea, holding the mug by the base to heat up her fingers. “It sure got cold last night.”

She says this with one of her smiles she makes to try hiding her upset. It got very cold last night—and her Sophia didn’t even have long pants on when she was chased off.

This’ll be her fifth day lost, if she’s still alive.

Echoing Daryl’s insistent belief that she can be found alive, you voice the possibility that “With all the farmhouses in this area, she’d know to head up to a barn loft to keep warm.” A barn is probably where she’s been this whole time, you’re thinking. Provided there was nothing dead in one, that’s where you’d want to hide.

Carol reverts back to the original subject, finishing telling you, “But, um, to answer you, no, he stayed asleep the whole time I was there.” She’s blinking tears away. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything about her daughter.

You’d woken up later than usual, on the Greene’s couch, after Beth and Maggie began coming downstairs. Following a flurry of good mornins during which you remembered where you were, you blindly stumbled in your blanket toward Daryl’s room, met Carol coming inside with a steaming mug of tea, and you intended to check with her how Daryl’d slept after she took over monitoring him last night.

As soon as you opened your mouth to ask—lo and behold, the man in question wobbled out of his room, wrapped in a blanket like you were and citing the need for a toilet.

You hadn’t been sure if he was okay walking without a chaperone, so you hooked your good arm under his and started to help him.

He got all grumpy at that, then told you how he remembered throwing up yesterday right after his first fall and wanted to know if it was bad.

Well, he got more grumpy after you asked him through the bathroom door to tell you if his boxers had blood in them or if there was any red or brown coming from the front, red or black coming from the back.

Really, you’d changed babies with diaper rash who complained less than that mangy hick did over a simple medical question. Lucky for you, Patricia overheard and took over.

Now you’re inwardly making fun of yourself over having felt so silly with those butterflies in your stomach last night when Daryl accidentally ca—

“—As she headed in there with him a few minutes ago, the first thing out of Patricia’s mouth was how minty the room smelled,” Carol softly giggles, taking another sip of her tea. “I think the smell is stuck in my nose.”

“Mine, too. I like it.”

When asked about the mint, all you’d told Carol was that you’d given some of the muscle rub and the peppermint oil to Daryl to help. You just didn’t specify that it was via…massage. You felt that detail might could’ve been misconstrued.

Especially given that poor dude was so out of it that: he accidentally called you ‘angel.’

It’s not deep. At most, Daryl was having a temporary bout of Florence Nightingale Syndrome, but the highest likelihood is that it was simply an injured person (him) being exhausted and loopy, therefore misattributing the giver of pain relief (you) to an angel.

You never thought you’d feel glad he went back to normal today, all grumpy and grating. It’s a relief that the butterflies in your stomach who plagued you yesterday are all gone now.

Carol calls your name and jiggles your wrist, and you blink. “Sorry, what?”

“Your brother’s coming over,” she repeats—and you’re already hightailing it.

See? Not angelic in the slightest, you can’t even face your own brother without wanting to cuss him out or shove him.

Kudos to you that when Shane calls your name and adds a, “G’morning,” with it, you respond neutrally with “Mornin’. Gonna grab my mp3, be right back.”

“You comin’ with us to the highway today, check for our girl?” Shane calls before you’re inside.

“You know it.”

“We leave in 10.”

“’Kay.”

He starts chatting with Carol as far as you can tell as you stride into the house. You suppose you have to get the music player, now, so you won’t be a liar like him. You know he's trying to get on your good side, what with his "our girl," stuff.

Knocking three times on the door to the room Daryl’s in, you await a response.

“Yeah, s’fine, come in,” he answers on the other side of it.

Opening the door, you’re met with the strong smell of mint and find Patricia still there with him, checking his pupils again as she greets, “Hi, sweetpea. I’d ask how you slept, but seein’ as you’re yawning and were still asleep on the couch 15 minutes ago…” She grins where she’s crouched in front of Daryl.

“Might will nap later,” you admit. “I’m just here for my music player.”

You just now recall that you’d meant to bring Daryl some of his stuff this morning. Toothbrush, pillow, PJ pants, that sort of thing.

Which means you’ll have to go back outside sooner, which means you’ll need to face your brother sooner.

You make a quick prayer for guidance, slip the mp3 into your pocket, and make for the door.

When you think you feel Daryl looking at you, you snap your eyes up in challenge.

He looks away so quick you nearly miss it. And the really nice nervous thrill that shivers through your belly is hopefully the last of the irrational butterflies. It’s one more thing to deal with, and toward Daryl of all people?

Mp3 in your pocket, you exit the house and begin to walk quickly toward Daryl’s tent. Your brother leaves Carol and follows at your pace despite his slight remaining limp.

He asks how you slept.

You shrug. “Could use more. You?”

“Better than I thought I would. Still up for target practice when we get back?”

“So long as I ain’t the target.”

His steps slow, and when he goes to speak, there’s hesitation. “Been talkin’ to Dale or was that one of your jokes?”

“I think it was a joke. What’s that about Mr. H?”

“Ain’t nothing, Y/N.” He stops walking altogether and puts his hands on his hips, moving his hand to muss his hair and instead meeting with the new buzzcut.

“What do you want, Shane?”

Your brother licks his teeth. “For you to just listen.”

Grimacing, you resume walking. “What do you possibly have to say to defend yourself?” you curse under your breath, even though you know you shouldn’t.

Continuing to follow you, he insults, “High and mighty today, are we?”

Your throat goes tight either from offense or because you’re so upset at what he did. Then, eyes growing moist, the anger turns to a type of sadness you can’t place. “I’m scrapin’ the bottom of the barrel here, Shaney, help me out.”

Your brother doesn’t say anything other than an apology until you two finish the walk to Daryl’s tent.

“Why we here, anyway?”

“Gettin’ Daryl his toothbrush and things,” you mumble.

It’s when you bend to unzip the door that he crouches and puts his hand on your arm. “Y/N. I meant what I said yesterday. The three people I care about most in this world are you, Lori, and Carl.”

Your turn to lick your teeth. “And Rick.” You unzip the door flap and look for Daryl’s stuff to bring him. His pillow isn’t very clean-looking.

Shane doesn’t seem to acknowledge what you said when he goes on, “And I’d do anythin’ to keep you three safe.”

“And Rick,” you say again, more pleading. “Please help me understand what’s going on with you and him.”

He starts looking not quite at you, then at anyplace else.

“Tell me the truth,” you warn. “You’re lookin’ all around the way you do before you lie.”

“Rick nearly got Carl killed and nearly got you killed. Because of that, nearly got me killed, too, if it weren’t for Otis. And Otis’ death is ultimately on his hands, too, not mine.”

After saying Otis’ name, he has to swallow and close his eyes. He probably won’t ever shake the guilt that Otis sacrificed himself so Shane could get the respirator back.

And now, opposed to seeing in your brother someone unfamiliar and scary, right now you see him clearly, and see that he’s broken in two.

You want to understand better, but you don’t yet. With only a light stress-stutter, you ask “Why are you saying Rick did all that?”

His nose twitches. “I’ve learned that Rick can’t make the tough decisions. Tough decisions save lives.”

“Tough decisions?”

“If we had gone to Fort Benning, instead of the—the CDC?” His anger bubbles up. “C’mon, Y/N, what the hell was he thinkin’? Going to a government building in a city the feds themselves napalmed, to the goddamn Centers for Disease Control,” he mocks, smiling in bitter disbelief. “A place what had mile-high security even before the world fell apart.” He rubs his head again as he coughs, “Y/N, he took the whole group, he took his family, his wife and child, into Atlanta? He knew what the city was like, yet he chose that, risked us all, instead of someplace we knew would be safe.”

You stare at the ground and don’t know if you’re supposed to say anything or not, so you don’t.

Shane sounds less angry, but more disgusted. Jealous, too. “Lori ain’t my wife, Carl ain’t my son, but I kept them alive for Rick, in Rick’s honor.” Then, he quiets. “And because we loved them. I love Lori and that boy so m…” he trails off, knowing he’s just been very honest. The hard lines on his face soften, and his posture sinks just enough for you to notice. “Then, this asshole waltzes back alive, takes ’em on back.”

He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. “And now Jacqui, Sophia, and Otis; now three people are dead because of him and his choices. And look at you. After comin’ that close to getting shot as bad as Carl was, you’re out there breakin’ your body more and more every day on this goddamn wild goose chase for a dead little girl—you think I’m stupid enough to believe your stitches had to get ‘redone?’ I saw Carol washin’ your bloodstained shirts, Y/N, it—hell, and now, even Daryl almost died from this bullshit. All because of King Rick, his-his inability to—” He cuts off, finally exhales, then sinks his head in his hands and rests his elbows on his knees where he sits in the dirt across from you.

There’s an uneasy, sick feeling in your stomach, and your body feels weighed down.

“Please say somethin’, Y/N, anything.”

Unprepared, you stumble through, “I-I’m happy you, uh—it’s good you unbottled that.” You stare at the grass and wipe your eyes. “M’happy that you told me.”

“You’re happy I dumped all this shit on you?” he says in attempt to make light of something heavy.

You copy his attempt. “Better out than in.” After a few moments of silence, you then murmur, “I’m happy to share the weight, I love you.”

“Y/N.”

You raise your eyes to where he sits. He’s got the same lost look on his face you’ve seen a lot of in the past handful months after the world fell apart. Like that night at the CDC, when he’d broken down crying. When he’d escaped the hospital after trying to rescue Rick and thinking he’d died. When he’d come back with a respirator but without Otis.

“I know it’s wrong, blamin’ him.” He rubs the top of his head the way he does whenever he’s upset or thinking too much.

“That you know it’s wrong is a good thing.”

“I know I’m wrong,” he whispers. “But I don’t think it matters. Or that I care.”

“What do you mean?”

“If we wanna survive, we need to make hard choices.”

Your tone of voice bites. “Like Lori told you yesterday, it’s easy to cut losses and not help. Easiest damned thing, Shane, so that’s enough about ‘hard’ choices.”

He doesn’t snarl back. He barely reacts, in fact.

Voice gruff, he mutters, “I’ve slid, Y/N. Real far down. Done some awful things.”

“You can choose good ones next time,” you offer simply.

“Sometimes the good ones are awful things, if they mean savin’ lives.”

A twinge of dread roils in your belly. “Justifying wrongs make them worse.”

“You sound so damn naïve sometimes, kid.” He rolls his eyes before tucking his head between his knees. Yet, he next asks, “When does somebody get too far gone?”

“That limit doesn't really exist. Nobody’s past hope.”

You see his chest expand and deflate with controlled breaths. And you’re about to stand up and bring Daryl his things when he says in a low voice, “Y/N, tell me about the rope thing again. And the drowning thing, too?”

Your brow creases. He wants you to repeat those two scenarios?

“Okay,” you answer, even if uncertain why he suddenly wants to talk ethics.

First, you call to mind the details... “There are, um, people on a rope that’s hangin’ off a cliff. The rope is breaking and will break, and those clingin’ to the rope will all fall and likely die unless the person on the bottom drops off. Now, the person at the top of the rope or in the middle can’t drop off in the bottom person's place, ’cause that’ll knock off those below them anyway and lead to more death. And it ain’t fair, but for the person on the bottom, is it their moral obligation to let go. And it’s…” your throat goes tight again. You think you’re starting to understand why he asked you to tell him this.

Still, you go on: “It’s morally acceptable and, and even the duty of the person directly above the lowest person to get them off the rope in-in-in order to save lives—Shane, I don’t wanna finish.”

“The person above them can sever the rope, they can even kick the person off,” he says for you, but not in a prideful way. He’s quiet and somber, a thousand-yard stare in his eyes. To you, he says, “But this thing with Sophia, I ain’t saying Sophia was at the bottom.”

His demeanor lowers your defenses, and you finish the scenario. “Only because the rope will break and lead to more death unless the weight is lessened is why it's permissible for the bottom person to let go or even get pushed off, but only because the rope will break and this is known. What the other people or person above them on the rope cannot do is directly kill the person on the bottom in order to make them let go, even though the end result might will end up the same. To directly kill a person is not right and is always evil, even if the end result will be the same.” You try to remember the exact wording that you’d learned. “‘Direct killing is morally permissible only for cases of self-defense against a direct, real-time aggressor who is intendin’ to kill or grievously harm you or another.’”

Shane’s eyes are glassy, the lost, scared expression still clouding his face. “Repeat the drownin’ one, too? Please.”

He looks so sad.

“Two p-people are drowning, but one is, uh, climbin’ onto the other to keep their own head above water. The person being used as a life raft can and should fight off the person, because otherwise they will accidentally be drowned. What they can’t do is, y’know, like, shoot the other in the face or shove them into the jaws of a hungry shark.” Which was your inappropriate grasp at making light, ugh, that was in really bad form. “Sorry,” you apologize, then speak like a grown-up: “The person bein’ unwittingly drowned cannot hold the other guy underwater to drown them instead, even if it’s to get them to stop. ’Cause again, to directly kill is evil. Unless the other person is a direct aggressor because they want you dead or harmed bad, in which case it’s self-defense.”

He sniffs and takes a deep breath. Shane’s eyes don’t have that thousand-yard stare anymore, now they simply look pained.

“Y/N, I don’t feel like myself,” he admits under his breath. “I haven’t. Can hardly recognize myself sometimes, but it’s as if I…” He throws his hand up. “I know I’m wrong but still don’t think it’s wrong.”

“This about Rick, Sophia, or Lori?” you ask. "Or Otis?" pops into your mind and out of your mouth.

“All of it, I reckon, I-I don’t know, I can’t…” His hand cups his mouth and trails down to his chin. “What I want with Lori I know is wrong. Y/N, I keep tryin’ to convince myself she wants me, loves me. That I deserve them ’cause I’m better for her and him.”

The news about the new baby tears through your insides and scatters your thoughts. “She does love you, just not in that way. And that thing about ‘deserved,’ that’s gotta go, man,” you respond, not that it’s helpful.

Nodding, he grunts, “I know.”

“Not that that helps much,” you apologize. Shane used to go to your eldest sister for this kind of thing. They were closest with each other. But that line, that idea about ‘deserving’ them because he’s better for them…that’s bad, it’s very bad.

Then, from the campsite, you hear Andrea shout “Five minutes, Walshes!”

Neither of you speak as a warm breeze sweeps over the field and across the yard.

Your big brother looks to you as if he’s a small, scared kid.

“Y/N, what do I do?”

So, you tell him the most concrete advice you can think of. “You go check the highway. Do a quick sweep of your grid. Host target practice like you and Ricky have planned, teach me more fightin’ moves like you had planned.��

He’s nodding, lost in space. “What about tomorrow?”

You lift one corner of your mouth sadly. “Check the highway. Do a quick sweep of your grid. Target practice, chores, work out. Normal stuff. Take it one day at a time. Things’ll get better, or you’ll get stronger. Either way.”

Shane wipes his eyes and blinks away any trace of having gotten emotional. “This what you had to do all them times you wanted to die?”

A cold spreads from your middle. “Do you want to die, Shaney?”

“No. I don’t wanna die, hell no, I just—” he inhales, holds it, exhales. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on with me.” He massages his neck with one hand. “Y/N, it feels like I’m either another person or I’m going batshit.”

That he’s suffering isn’t good, but hearing him say that is, because it means that he sees the problem, too.

“I’d be more concerned if you didn’t think there was somethin’ off.” You swallow and make yourself say, “I trust you.”

Now he’s shaking his head. “I don’t even trust myself right now.”

“That’s why you have me, loser.”

Shane smiles a little when you tell him that. Next, he stands, and appears to lose himself in thought again as picks up what you grabbed from Daryl’s tent. Then he freezes.

He puts the things back down, and sits again. “Y/N, I may have to go for a little while.”

“Where, a fuel run?”

He clasps the back of his head. “Away.”

Away? “Where’s away?”

“Away. For just a while.”

Away as in…leaving?

“Because of this Lori thing? Shane, there’s—”

“—It’s…more complicated than that—” he interrupts, but you interrupt right back, “—B-Because of Rick, then? What?”

“Kettle off the burner, Y/N.”

You hold in what you were going to say and count to five.

It doesn’t do the trick. “Man the hell up and get it out of your system.We can’t leave them!”

“Not ‘we,’ me. I can. It’s just for a little while, honey.”

Now he’s calling you ‘honey?’ He only does that when it’s serious.

You try to smile and play it off as if he’s just confused and needs encouragement. “Don’t act so dramatic, loser,” you tease. “We don’t have to go. Things aren’t good in some ways right now, but th-they will get better.”

“Not ‘we’, ‘I’. I think I do. I’m serious, kid.”

“Well, I, if-if you go—Shane, come on, I can’t let you go without me.”

“You can.”

“Shane. Stop, I don’t like this.”

He doesn’t stop. “If the person on the bottom has get cut off or drop off so the rest won’t fall—”

“—That is not what that means and you know it!” you push back. What is going on?

He appears to check himself. “I’m sorry, I—” He holds up a hand. “Y/N, I think me leavin’ awhile is what needs to be done. Lori does, too—no, don’t say anythin’ else about it, we won’t get nowhere.”

“You don’t need to cut yourself off. We don’t need to cut you off. That, that scenario was for a literal life or death situation, not whatever’s goin’ on here.” It’s like you can’t inhale enough.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, you’re right,” he soothes. “But I do need to leave—”

“—No, if you get ‘cut off’ or, or jump or whatever, I’m jumping down with you. You get that, right?” you almost shout.

He shakes his head as if he pities you. “This is why I didn’t tell you before.”

“You’re fixing to blame me for my reaction to my brother deciding to cut himself off from his family and risk his neck, goin’ off alone,” you pause to inhale, “because of a bad breakup, when now dead people walk and eat the living?”

Catching your breath, you watch as your words hit home.

Briefly, he covers his eyes in what looks like shame, he winces, then makes a quiet apology and says, “I’ll give it time. Ain’t like I was planning to leave tomorrow.”

Your shoulders slump. “How long you been considerin’ this?”

The way he opens his mouth and closes it without speaking is the first warning. The second is how he begins by softly calling you,“honey,” again.

“I was plannin’ to leave…over a week ago. Been planning it awhile,” he confesses.

The words sink in while you sit and blink.

It’s the next thing he says that feels like a sucker punch.

“It got cancelled when Carl got shot, but now I think I gotta…anyway, Lori knew. Dale knew, too. Andrea.”

Noises turn fuzzy and your brain grows quiet. You exhale the breath you forgot about and cover your face with your hands. They all knew? Lori knew?

You regain yourself when your brother goes, “Honey, I’m sorry.”

“Shaney, you ain’t serious.” Not one of them mentioned this to you. Did they not care?

“I don’t think they knew you were in the dark about it,” Shane assures you as if he could read your thoughts. “What’s more is I don’t reckon they thought you’d come with.They wouldn’t want you to go.”

You force yourself to exhale again, you keep forgetting to breathe.

“I’m sorry.”

“I forg—no, this is too much, this is so much,” you finally burst into tears. “I’ll forgive you, but I-I need a few hours.” Inhale, exhale. “Shane, I am so fuckin’…hurt!” Stupid. You feel so stupid. Blind and naïve and stupid.

“Take your time. God knows I took mine in fessing up.”

You sniff as much as you can, seeing as Daryl most likely doesn’t have tissues in his tent.

Shane was planning to leave, and at least three people knew about it. But not you, his own family.

The man has fallen low. Betraying Rick and Lori wasn’t enough, not caring about Sophia wasn’t enough; turns out you’re also somebody he doesn’t care about.

Maybe him going away is best, the hurt part of you shrieks. Good riddance!

And once he learns about the baby, this whole Lori thing will blow up if you can’t defuse it, and you don’t think you will be able.

The question he asked you earlier replays in your mind.

“When does somebody get too far gone?”

“I don’t believe that limit exists, man. Nobody’s past hope.���

Goddamn, you’re so tired.

Head against your bent knees, you don’t care why he’s going into Daryl’s tent. You don’t care about what he’s holding out to you, either, and you move away from whatever it is.

“All he had was damp paper towels,” Shane murmurs. “Please, take one.”

“I’d rather blow my nose on your shirt, for all I care,” you hiccup.

Andrea calls your names again. “Y/N, Shane, time to go!”

You don’t move.

Shane doesn’t move, as much you can tell from where your face lies hidden on your knees.

And, like much of this past week, you didn’t see coming what would happen next, what Shane would do. That your big brother would be so...penitent? toward you that he quite actually would remove his shirt and hand it to you?

You blink in disbelief, then find yourself close to smiling. “I can’t actually blow my nose on your shirt, you goon.”

The chicken noises he makes change your mind.

“You dick, I’m gonna actually do it. Then I’ma burn it, I ain’t makin’ nobody clean up what’s in my nose.”

“It’s cool. I deserve worse.”

The word still rubs you the wrong way. “What you deserve is a redemption arc,” you sniffle, and then cannot help but add this minor dig, “And a week without a razor might would do you good, so you’d have to suffer through havin’ chest hair again.”

Shane quietly cracks up, then, yeah, you really need to wipe your nose, so you really use his shirt after he adds how it’ll help his guilt.

When you’re good, you twist your mouth at him. You’re still hurt to the bone, but it’s easing. “You were just aching for an excuse to strip, weren’t you?” you rib.

“Mmhm. Just need me an audience and some Boyz 2 Men in the background, and I’ll be all set.” Grinning at your gagging reaction, he holds out a hand to help you to your feet. And, once he’s picked up Daryl’s pillow and begins to walk back with you, he calls you by your nickname.

His expression looks sad again, and the way he asks makes it clear he wants advice. “What else can I do to get whatever this is out of my system? Do better?”

This is also unexpected, so you bend to pick up some wildflowers. Clover, Queen Anne’s lace, and some smaller yellow ones and some daisy-looking ones. Standing up, you lift your good shoulder in a shrug. “You know how it is, sometimes we gotta fake it ’til we make it.”

He’s asking you advice. His square little sibling.

“What’re the flowers for?”

“Otis. Gonna pop them on his cairn on the way back.”

A cloud seems to pass over him. There are a few moments where nothing is said as he follows you to the rock pile.

“I’ll act right about Sophia,” he promises softly.

Even though he’s admitting his wrongs, the upset flicks on again. You reimagine pulling a tea kettle off the heat before it starts to whistle. “And you’ll give Lori space, and get her out of your head.”

Your brother grunts in assent. “I will.”

“A lot of space, hear?” you mutter while plunking the flowers on the memorial and picking up the pace to get to the SUV. “And stop flirting when you see you’ve upset somebody, that’s the biggest part I didn’t get. She looked frightened, Shane, you had to have seen her back away and cower. Is that who you are now?”

“No,” leaps from his mouth, followed by a sober, quieter, “No.”

A loud clash that was most definitely the cooking pans that were stacked to dry on the chair sounds from the campsite. You hear Lori and T-Dog laugh as you get closer.

“When you used to get all sad, what did you have to do?” he wants to know next.

“For me, it was more of a wait until things leveled out. I had to go through the motions a lot, kept myself distracted. Got help, which was the key part.” You toss his old shirt into the campfire as you two pass it. Glenn stares at you very confused, prompting you to mime him taking off his shirt and tossing it into the fire, after which you look back at him as if questioning why he isn’t also burning his.

“Distractions, okay.Guess I’ll, um,” Shane thinks aloud. As you two pass the clothesline, he takes one of his off the line and pulls it on. “Guess I might will start doing daily runs again, while we got a safe place.”

You smile politely. That advice used to annoy you a bit, too. Exercise does help, though. “Nothin’ gets it all out of your system for a while quite like a run.”

“Mm, literal and figurative, dependin’ on how hard you run.”

You scrunch your nose and pout. “Ew.”

“As if you wouldn’t have made that exact joke if I hadn’t first, weirdo.” Shane lifts a corner of his mouth before he lets himself smile big. It looks like a real one.

The words replay again.

“When does somebody get too far gone?”

“That limit doesn't really exist. Nobody’s past hope.”

You let yourself smile a little, too.

“I’ll run these inside to Daryl, you and the girls hop on in the car, then we’ll roll. And,” he says loud enough that Carol can overhear from where she stands holding the ragdoll. “Ground rules: Sophia gets shotgun if we find her there today. Cool?”

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[justanotherescapism]

TWD Imagines - How they’d react to you wearing their jacket

A/N: REQUESTS ARE OPEN! I have not been active in ages but here we are! I started a small business so I’ve been a little busy but back now!

Daryl

At first, he wouldn’t say anything. Just silently stare are you walk around with it on. But then he’d chuckle to himself, and walk over to you asking what you’re wearing. You’d plead saying it’s cold but you both know it’s comforting in a different way. ‘Y’know if you’d ask, I’d’a given it to ya.’

Rick

Rick would smile to himself, looking around to see all the people who have seen you. He’s a touch possessive, and loves that you’re so confident in your relationship. He’s strut over to you, kiss you on the cheek before making some cheeky remark. ‘Well, look’s like you really love me after all.’ When you’d turn to him, you’d be about to defend your choice, when he’d pull you into kiss him - deeply but sweetly.

Negan

He’d wolf whistle the minute he saw you. He’d strut up to you and pull you in by the hips, kissing you roughly. ‘Wow, baby doll, look at you.’ You’d be a blushing mess, which only spurs him on. Let’s just say, you wouldn’t be in his jacket for much longer.

Merle

Merle would laugh at you. You’d get annoyed thinking he was been mean, really he was baffled. You’d take it off, leaving it with him, he’d get really quiet. Walking away, he watch you, annoyed at himself. He’d grab the jacket, and find you sitting out by the fence, watching the prison field. He’d drape the jacket over your shoulders, and apologise.

Shane

To him, it was the hottest thing you’d ever done. Everyone already knew you were his, but to see you rubbing it in peoples faces. He’d go feral, claim you need to go on a run, but really it’s just to get you alone for a while ;)

[etclouie]

kinktober day twenty five - uniform sex

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: two of your childhood friends owing you a favor helps out when they stop you for speeding (Shane Walsh and Rick Grimes x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 setting: pre apocalypse 

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: smut, threesome, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie(it’s shane), handjob, oral (rick receiving), no lori or carl😶, reader is described as to be the same age as rick and shane/was in the same year of school as them, shane and rick are lowk dirty cops here (they bang reader to let her off), readers described to be wearing a dress, pretty sure that’s it

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 1.9k

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: no comments

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you were on your way home from work, hitting all the quieter roads and failing to stay at the speed limit. 

on any other day, you wouldn’t have been stopped but today was different. everything that could’ve went wrong today did, just like now. 

you seen the sirens flash behind you, and pulled over with a sigh. rolling down your window and waiting for the cop to walk up to your car, but the look that crossed your face as you met his eyes had a sigh of relief leaving you. 

“Shane?”

you questioned, eyes flicking from his face and then down to the badge pinned to his chest. the gold pin reading ‘Walsh’, a last name you’d grown overly familiar with. 

“mhm you know how fast you were going?”

he asked, his elbow resting lightly on your wing mirror. his eyes flicking from you and the back towards his partner still in their patrol car, unaware of who the other man was; but the feeling in your stomach had your mind racing to your other old best friend— Rick Grimes. 

“was ten over the limit, max”

pleading your case, which made him chuckle. his head shaking from side to side as he moved to cross his arms in your open window, his face inches from yours. 

the minty scent from his gum filling your senses from your closeness, eyes flicking down to his lips before his voice was pulling your attention back to him. 

“still over the limit sweetheart”

a shiver going down your spine at the nickname, eyes finding his again and meeting the gleam in his eyes. 

a pool of warmth setting in your belly under his gaze, leaning closer to him and murmuring out softly. 

“remember that favor you owe me?”

another chuckle pushed past his lips, watching his head shake as he stood upright again, motioning towards his patrol car towards Rick. 

the older of the two moving over to your car, a telling smirk across Shane’s face as he nodded his head towards you. Ricks hands resting on his hips as his eyes met yours, for the first time in years. 

“hm you remember that favor we owe her Rick?”

the favor that you’d brought up was dismal, something from your last year of high school. you’d done both boys a big favor, helping them get out of school for the day while they done something you don’t quite remember. but they both said they owed you one, and now felt as if the perfect opportunity to use up that favor. 

“from high school?”

Shane nodded in response, smirk broad across his face as his eyes skimmed down your body. his right hand reaching for the door handle and pulling open your door, arms crossing over the top of it as both men peered down at you. 

“and how exactly do you want us to repay that favor for you?”

the innuendo was there, all three of you felt it. gulping as you unbuckled your seatbelt before slowly climbing out of your car, heat shooting through your body. 

the road you were on was hardly used by people, so the chance of someone driving by and seeing the three of you was unlikely. 

“you know how Walsh, don’t be dim”

he huffed out a laugh at your words, eyes flicking over to meet Rick’s while he shut your car door. 

sandwiched between both men, your back to Shane’s chest while you faced Rick. 

“gonna let us have fun with you sweetheart?”

Shane’s persistent talking left Rick quiet, not that he minded. it allowed his eyes to rake down your body, stopping at the hem of your dress that Shane was now eagerly pushing up. 

“you’re stunning”

Rick drawled out, his hands lifting to grope at your boobs. his thumbs swiping over your hardening nipples through the fabric of your dress. 

letting out a breathy moan at his touch, back arching towards him while Shane grounded his hips against the swell of your ass. the bulge in his slacks prominent and throbbing in his boxers. 

“reckon she’s soaked for us Rick?”

the words barely registered in your head before one of Shane’s big hands were snaking into the front of your panties to swipe two thick fingers through your folds, pulling more moans from your chest. 

“oh fuck”

you and Shane breathed out simultaneously, yours needier than his. 

whining as his hand pulled away from your cunt to show Rick his now soaked fingers, that smirk still across his face. 

“shit sweetheart”

Rick’s voice dropped an octave, one of his hands keeping your left boob in his hold while the other cradled your jaw. pulling you into a deep, heated kiss— all teeth and tongue while your hips pushed back onto Shane. 

the pool of heat in your belly deepened, warmth settling through your body while both men lavished you with their undivided attention. 

Shane fumbled with his belt, the clank of it sounding as he got it open. breaking the kiss with Rick to glance back at him, his fingers tugging down his zipper while he spat his gum out to the side. 

“ain’t gonna keep you waiting much longer, promise you tha’”

he told before leaning in to kiss you as best he could, hands leaving his slacks to pull your panties down to your knees. the fabric drenched in your arousal. 

“can’t leave Rick without any pleasure darlin’, ain’t fair tha’”

he broke the kiss to mumble against your lips, pulling back enough to meet his gaze. nodding slowly, the words formulating in your head in little coherency. 

turning back to Rick, missing the way he worked open his belt and pushed his slacks down to his mid thigh. practically ogling at the sight of his cock, hot and hard and standing to attention. 

the look on your face must’ve shown your surprise, stood still in place— mind reeling and trying to make sense of what your current situation actually was. 

Rick must’ve sensed your hesitation, big hands cradling your face while pulling you into a softer kiss than before. 

“you sure you wanna do this?”

his soft questioning made your heart warm, almost swooning at his care. 

“want this— want both of you”

those words were all Shane needed to push himself into your warmth in one smooth thrust, his chest flush against your back as he buried himself to the hilt. his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured out lowly to you. 

“c’mon sweetheart, take care of Ricky”

your left hand grabbed at Ricks shoulder, helping him move closer before he was kissing you again. tongue licking its way into your mouth and tangling with yours, while your right hand took hold of his cock. 

the tip of him leaking beads of precum, his hips rocking into your touch while Shane slowly started moving his hips against yours. 

“there we go”

his voice came out hoarse against your ear, hearing the smirk across his lips and breaking the kiss with Rick to glare back at Shane. 

“easy darlin’, we’re paying back that favor we owe you”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, his hold on your hips growing tighter as he continued to roll his hips into you. 

each drag of his cock against your walls making you moan lewdly, hand squeezing around Ricks cock and pulling a shaky groan from him. 

your hand moving slow and almost teasingly along Ricks length, twisting your wrist on the upstroke to pull more and more groans from his chest. his hips rocked into your touch and the head of his cock continued to leak, his precum helping to lubricate your strokes. 

“like that darlin’ fuck, yeah just like tha’”

the lilt in his voice grew thicker, hips chasing your hand while Shane continued to thrust into you. his left hand shaking around to your front and pressing two thigh fingers to your clit, drawing tight firm circles against you and drawing whinier moans from your lips. 

the whole scene was lewd, but you felt as if you were in paradise. 

old feelings for both of them resurfacing and feeling as if you were playing out your fantasies. 

“Rick-“

words failed you, but the way your eyes flicked between his and his lips gave away what you wanted. another kiss. 

he was leaning in to press his lips to yours again, your hand continuing along his cock while Shane continued to play with your clit. 

your walls fluttering and squeezing around him had a groan falling from his lips, his forehead dipping to rest on your shoulder before he was mumbling out. 

“shit sweetheart, squeezing me real tight”

the pool of warmth in the pit of your stomach was at its boiling point, ready to tip you over the edge. 

and with the way both men’s hips were canting desperately into your touch, you knew they were close too. 

continuing to pump Ricks cock, his breath hitching while his cock throbbed in your hand. teetering on the edge, but they both wanted you to cum first. 

“close, fuck ‘m close”

your admission had Shane’s hips moving quicker against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin pulling your focus back to the man behind you. 

each drag of his cock felt too good, the head of him hitting the one spot over and over again that had you seeing stars. his fingers pressing tighter circles against your clit had you toppling over the edge. 

cunt spasming around him as your climax hit, the force of your release had your slumping against Ricks chest. face in against his throat and your hand squeezing around his cock as you tried steadying yourself. 

“there we go, atta fucking girl”

Shane’s praise hit your ears like a familiar melody, his hand soothing across your hip while continuing to rock into you. 

fighting off his climax as best he could, but your walls fluttering around him again had him toppling over. whining against Ricks throat at the feeling of Shane’s cum shooting into your warmth, each stutter thrust he gave spilling more of him into you. 

“jesus you’re perfect”

he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, both of hands softer now across your hips. keeping himself buried to the hilt, and keeping his cum stuffed in your pussy. 

Ricks hands cradled your face to pull you back from his neck, nodding his head as you met his gaze. 

on the pinnacle of his release, wanting to spill his load down your throat. his hands gently moved your head towards his cock. 

your mouth warm and welcoming, and your lips wrapped securely around his cock. 

he only had to give a couple bucks of his hips until he was groaning out your name, his climax hitting him and his cum shooting into your mouth. rope after rope of white filling the warm cavern of your mouth before pulling out to let you swallow. 

“shit— gonna let me fuck you now angel?”

swallowing down his release, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and standing upright against Shane again. 

readying yourself to answer when a call came over both of their radios, both of them groaning in annoyance. 

Shane reluctantly pulling out of your warmth and pressing another kiss to your shoulder while a pout worked its way into your face. 

“shit, we gotta go darlin’. think we can let you off with a warning now”

he told as they both tucked themselves back into their pants, Rick even helping to pull your panties back into place as Shane’s cum started to seep out of your cunt. 

Rick placing a kiss to your temple before they were both walking back to their car, calling out to them as they both opened their doors. 

“call me sometime”

⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[darlingshane]

★ SHANE WALSH IN EVERY EPISODE ★ THE WALKING DEAD | 1.02 Guts

[xxdrixx]

Shane telling stuff in The Walking Dead

for @castle-rook 💕

[minidodds]

WHEN HE DOESN'T BUTTON HIS SHIRT!

[dilfsandmartinis]

I CAN FIX HIM

[texaschainsawmascara]

He hates the way you look at me, you’re already dead

Inbred - Ethel Cain / Tony, The Sopranos / Shane, The Walking Dead / Jax, Sons of Anarchy

[sadslay]

- BASOREXIA ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

(n.) the overwhelming desire, or sudden urge, to kiss someone.

warnings — set during s1 ep6, very short (sorry), light nsfw content

daryl hadn’t known you for long, no more then a few weeks at most but in the short time he had known you, he felt as though he’d known you for years. thanks to not only his brother’s judgements but also his own, he believed you to be some entitled snob that would never looked twice in his direction. his jaw had just about hit the ground when he had discovered you had both grown up in the same neighbourhood, even went to the same community school before him and merle had moved away.

he could never describe the way he felt around you. daryl had always understood he was never smart, not in the ways that mattered or not in the ways that would impress you but he was sure - so goddamn sure - that were was a word or two to describe the way he’d felt about you in the short time he had come to know you. the word daryl was searching for - but would never find - was basorexia.

sitting on a countertop behind a rounded table, watching the others cheer and pour drinks brought a sense of familiarity to you. it reminded you of a simpler time. you focused on lori and rick as they playfully bickered on weather or not their son should try some of the red wine dale was serving, but daryl - who sat beside you, nursing a bottle of beer- was entirely focused on you. the way you looked under the white led lighting of the cdc bunker and the way you giggled as carl pushed away the small cup of wine he had just tried. everything you did was perfect in his eyes, absolutely everything.

“you gonna share that bottle dixon?” you queried, gently nudging into his shoulder as you flashed him cheeky grin.

daryl let out a breathy chuckle, not saying a word before handing you the brown bottle, watching you intently as you brought the bottle up to your lips.

“you should stick to soda pop kid.” shane mumbled as daryl stood up to walk around the table, in hopes to secure another bottle as the current one had almost run out.

“not you glenn.” daryl smiled - that was one of the first times you had seen him genuinely smile - leaning in to grab another bottle before teasing, “keep drinkin’ little man, i wanna see how red your face can get.”

“it seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly.” rick spoke, standing up to look at the man who had reluctantly let us in an hour or so prior.

“he is more than just our host.” t-dog smiled, raising his glass of red wine.

“booyah!” daryl cheered, raising a bottle of spirits into the air before sitting back down beside you, offering you a sip of the new liquor.

you placed the empty bottle of beer beside you before taking the bottle what you assumed was whiskey and cheering, “booyah!” before taking a swig.

“so when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc?” shane asked, breaking the cheers and thanks coming from around the room, and almost instantly everyone fell quiet. “all the ah the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?” he asked, looking at the lone scientist.

“we're celebrating, shane.” rick answered quickly, sitting back down beside his son. “don't need to do this now.” he added.

“whoa, wait a second. this is why we're here, right?” shane asked rhetorically, looking at rick before continuing. “this was your move, supposed to find all the answers but instead we uh we found him.” shane explained, his very tome and expression seeming on edge and untrusting. “found one man. why?”

“well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. went off to be with their families and when things got worse, when the military got overrun, the rest bolted.” the scientist explained, the entire mood shifting.

“every last one?” shane asked sarcastically.

“no, many couldn't face walking out the door. they... opted out. there was a rash of suicides. that was a bad time.” the scientist continued, his voice shaky as he explained the fate of the cdc.

“you didn't leave. why?” andrea asked, placing her half empty glass of wine onto the crowded table.

“i just kept working. hoping to do some good.” he explained.

“dude, you are such a buzzkill, man.” glenn groaned, looking at shane as he slumped back into his chair.

later that night, after every had begun settling in for the night you found yourself lying awake in a sleeping bag a meter or so away from glenn. your hair was still damp from the warm shower you had no more then an hour prior. you pulled yourself up from the sleeping bag, wrapping your arms around your chest before wandering out into the hallway to find all but one light left on. daryls room. the door had been left open, allowing you to lean up against the doorframe as you watched daryl pull a clean shirt over his head and shoulders before noticing the brown bottle by the head of his sleeping bag.

“still hoggin’ the bottle huh dixon?” you giggled, causing daryl to spin around as the rest of his shirt fell down his torso.

he weakly scoffed as his eyes traced up and down your body, most of your legs exposed from the shorts you had found in some drawers while a baggy shirt hid most of your figure.

“d’yer reckon we could find the rest of ‘is stash?” you asked eagerly, looking up at daryl as a breathy chuckle fell from his lips.

“nah, yer cut off woman.” he chortled, as you walked further into his room “yer already drunk as i am.” daryl added.

your eyebrows almost immediately pinched together as you dramatically scoffed, “that shower sobered me up real good.” you teased, bending down to grab the bottle before taking a sip of the room temperature liquor. “‘n what would be so wrong with that?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest.

“nothin’!” he defended, his hands weakly rising into the air before dropping back by his side. “s’just you look like you can’t handle your booze is all.” daryl teased.

you dropped down onto the near by couch as you slurred, “i can handle my liquor jus’ fine.”

closely you watched daryl as he plopped down beside you, taking the brown bottle from your hand before taking another swig.

“women can never handle their liquor.” he mumbled, a weak laugh escaping his lips, making you frown.

“dixon.” you mumbled, looking across to his eyes as they remained focused on the bottle in front of him. “that sounds like a challenge.” you smirked causing the man to look up with a devilish grin plastered on his lips.

he extended his arm, offering the bottle to you. you took the bottle from daryl causing a soft giggle to leave your lips as you brought the rim of the bottle up to your mouth. taking another swig of the brown liquor - burning your throat - you rested the bottle in your lap.

“yer gonna be wasted.” he noted, trying to hide the grin sneaking onto his lips.

“you’ve never even seen me drink,” i scoffed, “for all you know i could’ve been a drunk before all of this rubbish.” i added, handing the bottle back to daryl as he shuffled a little closer.

“‘cept i do, yer told me ‘bout an hour ago that you barely had your first drink before the world went to shi-.” daryl teased, his words cut off as your hand covered his mouth, quietly shushing him.

“i told you that in confidence, and i said first legal drink.” you pouted as daryl’s hand lifted up to connect with yours that was still covering the majority of his mouth.

you could feel daryls breath on the palm of your hand as he let out a small chuckle but as his hands slowly began to peel yours away from his mouth, his lips began to purse, leaving a soft kiss on your skin. you watched him as his lips continued further down your wrist, his hand loosening before finally letting go to reattach at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him as you lips met. quicker then you could have ever imagined the kiss grew heated and passionate as you found yourselves pulling each other closer. in an act of desperation you pulled yourself onto his lap, resting your knees on either sides of his hips as you sat down on his lap, but it still didn’t feel close enough.

when you had suddenly pulled your lips away from daryls, leaving him confused and afraid that he had overstepped, but as your hands cradled his cheeks and a smile began to creep onto your lips he was left in a state of confusion.

“been waitin’ for yer to do this for a while.” you grinned, your eyes wandering around daryls face, admiring every little detail thanks to the close proximity.

“thought you were only doin’ this cause you’d been drinkin’.” he answered glumly, his hands still loosely hovering over your hips.

you shrugged weakly, a smirk creeping onto your lips as you whispered, “needed some liquid courage.” before your lips connected to his prickled jawline.

“scared of me huh?” he asked, his grip tightening around your waist as your delicate kisses began to tickle his skin.

“m’not scared of you.” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, slowly beginning to work your way back to his lips.

but just as you went to reconnect your lips, daryl slightly pulled away, his eyebrows pinched together as he whispered, “ya think i’d say no to yer?”

you stayed silent, shyly nodding. heavy breaths filled the room as a weak muffled scoff left daryls lips. you let out a little chuckle at your own foolish mind for getting in the way of an action you had been wanting to pursue for some time now.

“didn’t think i was your type.” you commented, combing a piece of hair out of your face before your hand reattached to the base of daryl’s neck.

“didn’t think i was ya type either.” he breathlessly chuckled, his hands remaining firmly gripped onto your waist.

a soft giggle left your lips as your lips momentarily connected with daryls before pulling away to whisper, “your one hundred percent my type.” you smiled, your very words making daryl scoff in disbelief before your lips reconnected with his.

daryl was in heaven on earth. he had never imagined this happening and now with you on his lap, your mouth slowly beginning to part from his lips as you trailed down his chin and jaw, your entire body now beginning to slide down. his chest rose and fell heavily as you rested on your knees, your hands now beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.

“ya- yer don’ have ta-“ a groan slipped from daryls lips as you began to peel away his jeans, the very action sending him into a euphoric state and with you on your knees before him, something much more lustful and libidinous began to grow.

the following morning daryl woke up to you wrapped around his body, the sleeping bag - intended for one person use - was sprawled out over your two bodies, providing some warmth. your arms were wrapped around his torso, and your legs were intertwined with his. daryl looked down at you, admiring your soft delicate feature as you peacefully slept for the first time in months.

daryl thought you were so deep in sleep that nothing could possibly wake you, so when a strand of your hair fell across your face, tickling your nose and lips, daryls hand rose from his side. as he began to brush away your hair, your eyes began to flutter open, causing daryl to freeze as he trucked the strand of hair behind your ear.

“morning.” you grumbled, your arms pulling away from the warmth of daryls body to stretch.

“mornin’.” he hummed, following your actions of sitting up right, the pair of you sitting shoulder to shoulder. “yer hungover?” daryl teased, beginning to rub his face before combing his hair out of his face.

“shut up.”