Beware the Zombie Bikers!

○Requests-OPEN!○ ¤Jamie¤ ¤40¤ ¤Married and a Mom¤ ¤Writes Imagines¤ ¤Multi Fandoms¤ ¤Minors, DNI! 18+ only!¤ This blog is Drama FREE! 🤘

[ohdaylight]

Riley Green - Icons gif (by me)

! I do not take requests, i only do these for fun.

[cactuslord]

Riley Green making his acting debut in Y: Marshals.

[georgiapeach30513]

[navybrat817]

Got a pic of Riley Green’s hand for ya🤭

Also look at how good he looks😩😩😩😩

Loml right there🫠

AHH! Look at him! Did you have the best time?

I want to go to a concert now.

Love and thanks! ❤️

[ohdaylight]

Riley Green - 400x640 avatars

[llliath]

[ohdaylight]

Riley Green - 400x640 avatars rpg

[bcacstuff]

rileyduckman & marshalscbs IG

Not only love the series, also love the music and how they intergrade it into the show. Did you know there's a playlist?

[fineasscountrymen]

[willmackshipper]

holy hell

[stachedmen]

Riley Green, Marshals 1x08 (2026)

[adoresmiles]

Hi guys 🤍 i’ve been thinking about starting a Riley Green fanfic series and I’m kinda nervous but also excited to share it.

it’s gonna be a mix of soft love, real-life chaos, emotional moments, and that “what if he fell in love with someone offstage” type storyline.

i honestly don’t know who would be into it, but if you’re a Riley Green fan or just love country music romance stories… I think you might enjoy it.

if anyone wants to follow along, I’ll be posting soon 🫶🏽

[seths-jarvis]

Riley Green starring in his own music video Worst Way

[read24111]

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

gif @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Survivor about Y/N: Your wife’s a little high maintenance, isn’t she?

Daryl, bristling: She likes nice things.

Survivor: It’s the apocalypse. Nothing a person likes matters anymore.

Daryl: That right?

Daryl, leaning in while still keeping an eye on Y/N across the way: Y’like breathin’?

Surviving, gulping: Y-yeah.

Daryl: Then quit talkin’ ‘bout my wife.

[topazy]

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Shane Walsh × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader, Daryl Dixon x reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Smut, swearing, vomit, character death

Chapter: 2.11

“You should get some sleep.”

“I will in a little bit.”

You remain sitting by the window, looking down at the barn Randall was being kept in from the bedroom. Even though there was always someone keeping watch, you still had this fear that he would escape and hurt someone.

“Daryl and T-dog are on watch; he’s not going to get out,” Shane sighs. “Y/n, you look exhausted; you need to get some sleep.”

It did make you feel a little better knowing Daryl was watching him; you doubted Randall would ever get the upper hand on him. You only look away from the window when you hear a playful kissing noise. You smile watching Shane look at your son with so much love in his eyes as he blows kisses on his cheeks.

You go and sit beside him on the bed, smiling as Jace babbles away. Shane laughs, seeing his son's salvia bubbles drooling onto him, and kisses the top of his head. Getting a glimpse of the tears that brought tears to your eyes. “He’s starting to look much like his daddy; he’s got your eyes.”

“The two of you are the best things that have ever happened to me; I just want you to know that.” Shane wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses your cheek. “Now, try and get some sleep. I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”

Nodding, you lay back and close your eyes, pushing the thoughts of everything bad that has and could still happen to the back of your mind.

—

A groan passes your lips as you stretch out in bed. You feel Shane shifting slightly beside you. “Mornin handsome.”

Shane rolls to face you and plants a soft kiss on your lips, “morning darlin.” He pulls you closer by the hips and deepens the kiss, but you pull back.

“Where's Jace?”

He mumbles, “Rick is watching him. He offered to take him after breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” You jolt upright. “What time is this?”

“Nearly noon.” Shane brings your face to his and kisses you again. You press your body against his, feeling the heat of his bare chest against the thin vest top that covers your chest. Shane rolls onto his back, taking you with him so that you’re on top. Feeling the bulge in his pants, you grind down against him. He strokes the side of your face with his thumb, chuckling. “What’s gotten into you this morning?”

“It’s been a while.”

His eyes lock with yours briefly before he removes your vest top, leaving you in only your pants. He sucks at the skin along your collarbone down to your breasts, leaving bruise-like marks. He takes one of your hardened nipples onto his mouth while pushing your pants to the side to rub at your clit.

It doesn’t take you long to come undone when he slides two fingers into you. You muffle your moans of pleasure by burying your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. Your eyes flicker open when you lean back, and the way Shane is smiling with the sun shining on his face through the window makes him look so happy, just as he was when you first met.

“Are you okay, y/n?”

“No,” you say, kissing him roughly. “I want more.”

“Take whatever you want, whatever you need from me.”

Your hands fumble as you quickly begin to undo his trousers. He lifts his hips enough for you to pull them low enough for his cock to spring free. You pull your pants to the side and line yourself up with him. Shane lets out a deep moan as you sink onto him, his lips pressing against yours. Finding a rhythm was easy; his hand came forward and slipped between your legs, finding your clit again.

It’s not long until you’re both coming apart, moaning into each other's mouths. You collapse forward, pressing your forehead against his. Gently, you kiss the side of his face that’s badly bruised and say, “I love you.”

He chuckles. “I love you too.”

—

Shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand, you glance up to the top of the windmill, where Shane is doing some maintenance on it. A few hours prior, Hershel had insisted Lori take his bed as the rest of your group moved into the Greene’s farmhouse, so as a compromise, it had been decided Lori and Carl would sleep with you while Shane and Rick slept on the living room floor.

You had offered to sleep on the floor, but you quickly got shot down in flames by Shane, which somehow led to another argument between him and your brother. He and Shane had gone into the empty kitchen where nobody else could hear them, but curiosity got the better of you, and you soon found yourself trying to listen in.

“Shane, my sister can take care of herself,” Rick says quietly.

“Yeah, yeah, you said that before, and look what happened.” Shane mutters bitterly under his breath before storming out.

“Hey, babe.”

Shane acknowledges you with a head nod but says nothing. You place the carrier chair Patrica had found the day before gently on the dried-up grass below, smiling slightly as Jace takes in his new surroundings.

“Want some help?”

“No.”

His moodiness was starting to irritate you; since his conversation with Rick, he’d done nothing but sulk and had bitten Glenn’s head off when he asked a question about patrolling the area. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

“Nope.”

You click your tongue and say, “Fine, we’ll see you back at the house.”

Watching you go to pick up the carrier chair, Shane sighs, “y/n?”

You turn back around just as he starts to climb down. You cross your arms over, “Yeah?”

You're not sure if it’s the cold breeze of the wind or the look on his face, but a chill shoots down your spine. Now, standing right in front of you, you can see the uncertainty in Shane’s dark eyes.

“After I got Jace from Rick, I spoke to Lori, or more, she spoke to me. I went to take the little man outside for some fresh air, and she followed me.”

Your stomach tenses.

“She thanked me for looking after her and Carl when the world first went to shit. She then, uh, told me she messed everything up and doesn’t know who the baby’s father is.”

Feeling as if you’ve been punched in the gut, you step back from him. Shane attempts to touch you, but you turn to the side and vomit.

He rubs at your back and, in a concerned tone, says, “I’m sorry, y/n. For all of it.”

You bite on your bottom lip, refusing to let any tears fall. It had been so hard for you to forgive them both, but you thought you and Lori had reached some kind of unspoken agreement to never mention them sleeping together again, but it seems you were wrong. You take the almost worn-out bobble from your wrist and use it to tie your hair back before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “What did you say?”

“I told her I think Carl will make a great big brother. Come on, y/n. We’ve been over this,” he says, stepping forward and holding onto your wrists. “Don’t let this get between us again. Lori is only bringing it up because she thinks this is what caused the distance between me and Rick.”

“You didn’t tell her the truth, did you?”

“No, of course not. Only the three of us know about it, and it’s going to stay that way.”

You tilt your head back and ask, “Is that what you and my brother were arguing about earlier?”

Shane, let’s go and scoffs. “Carl came to me with a gun he’d stolen from Daryl the day before, and I just said I thought Rick should talk to him about it. And then he said Randall took priority—”

“How did I get brought into this?”

Shane seems somewhat hesitant to tell you; he’s never been one to shy away from telling the truth, so it worried you that he wasn’t.

“Whatever it is, just tell me.”

“Rick chewed my head off when I said you couldn’t sleep downstairs…”

The look you give him silently tells him to continue.

“Things got heated when I said he should have just killed the son of a bitch, and he made a comment about how it’s not like before, and I can’t just take the law into my own hands.”

There’s no holding back the tears as you feel another wave of betrayal crash down on you. “He brought it up?”

Shane nods.

Furious, you turn and go back to the farm house.

“Where are you going?”

“He promised.” Rick had promised to never throw what happened that night in Shane’s face again.

“Wait, I’ll give you a ride to the farmhouse.”

—

You swing the car door open before Shane even breaks. You unbuckle your belt and storm towards Rick, who’s standing on the front porch alone. Shane follows closely behind while holding Jace.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You shove him in the chest and say, “You're an asshole.”

He looks between you and Shane, shocked by your outburst towards him.

“You promised me, you promised—” You go to shove him again, but you’re held back. “Let go of me, Daryl!”

“Go easy before you hurt yourself; you don’t want to bust up your arm again.”

You wriggled out of his grip and glared at your brother; you could see the guilt written all over Rick’s face. “The one fucking thing I’ve ever asked of you, and you couldn’t even do that.”

“Y/n—”

After you’ve gone inside, you hear Daryl say, “I’ve no idea what shitstorm is going on, but I’d let her cool down.”

—

You watch as Daryl loads up the truck and walks over, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Hey,” you motion to the gun in the holster on your hip. “I thought you might want this since you’re low on arrows.”

Since you’re holding Jace, he takes it from the holster and inspects it. “Is this Dale’s gun?”

“Yeah. What you did last night was really brave, you know.”

He shrugs. “I did what anyone would do.”

You drew Jace close, nuzzling his cheek. “About earlier…”

“Don't; me and Merle used to fight all the time. It was what siblings do.”

“Suppose.”

Daryl observes you interacting with Jace, making silly faces, and kissing his face. He grunts, “Rick is not stupid, and neither are you.”

“What?”

Before Daryl has the chance to say anything else, T-dog runs around the corner and says, “Randall and Shane are gone!”

—

While everyone searches the barn for clues on where Randall, a skinny kid, could possibly have dragged Shane, you stand by the tree line, watching your fiancé hide.

After a few moments, Shane comes out of the treeline, his face covered in blood from a cut on the bridge of his nose. “Rick! Rick!”

“What happened?”

“He’s armed. He’s got my gun!”

Carl looks up at him, worried. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. A little bastard just snuck up on me. He clocked me in the face.”

“All right, Hershel, T-dog, get everybody back in the house,” Rick says, taking charge. “Lock all the doors and windows. Glenn, Daryl, come with us.”

“Y/n, I’m going to need that gun.” Shane stares at the empty holster. He gives you a questioning look that turns to a glare when he notices Daryl has it.

“Here, take this,” T-dog says.

Once Shane has his gun, you step closer as if you were going to kiss his cheek and whisper, “Do you really think anyone will believe he got the jump on you? I just watched you bury your gun. Whatever the hell you’re up to, better not get anyone hurt. I mean it, Shane.”

“We need to go,” he says, pulling back. He lightly brushes his hand over Jace’s hair and says, “I love you.”

—

Chewing on your bottom lip, you internally debate whether you should have said something or not. At the time, it made sense what Shane’s plan was: he’d take Randall into the woods and kill him, then pretend he ran away. But now it was dark and nobody had returned, causing a knot to tighten in your stomach.

Something was seriously wrong.

You look back out of the window and notice a figure running outside. Oh shit. Carl had snuck out.

You quietly rush downstairs and stick your head in the kitchen where Maggie, Patrice, and Beth were sitting. “Can you guys watch Jace for a minute? Thanks.”

It doesn’t take you long till you catch up with Carl and say, “Go back to the house now.”

“Aunt y/n, what are my dad and Shane doing?”

You follow his gaze to one of the small hills surrounding the farm and notice Shane pointing his gun at Rick. Your heart sinks. “Carl, run back to the house and tell your mom and T-dog to come out here, okay?”

“What’s—”

“Please, just do as I say.”

Soon as you see him running in the direction of the house, you sprint towards the hill. You slow down when you reach them; your brother notices you, but Shane, who’s facing the opposite way, doesn’t.

“You really believe if you walk back into that farm alone. No me, no Randall.”

“I want you to hush up.”

“Do you really believe they’re going to buy whatever bullshit story you cook up?”

“That’s just it. It ain’t no story. I saw that prisoner shoot you down. I ran after him and snapped his neck. It ain’t going to be easy, but y/n, Carl, and Lori—they'll get over you. And my son will have no memory of who you ever were.”

You remember the fear and desperation you felt when you were alone in the city when the apocalypse first started, and you know that you can't let that same fear consume you again.

You raise the gun in your hand and click the safety off. “I found your gun.”

“The one Randall stole, right?” Rick growls.

“Y/n, you shouldn’t be here for this.”

You look to your brother, who gives you a pleading look and says, “Go before you get hurt.”

Offended, Shane placed his gun closer to Rick's chest. “Hurt her? I’ve done a lot of fucked-up shit I’m not proud of, but I’ve never once hurt her. Isn’t that right, y/n? I’ve dedicated my life to keeping you safe; that’s why you’re going to leave and pretend you didn’t see anything.”

You had created this monster yourself by turning a blind eye to Otis’s death and choosing not to believe what Dale said.

Tears roll down your cheeks, and your voice breaks as you speak. “I’ve told you before, Shane, I love you; I really do. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I won’t choose you over my brother.”

Your words only cause Shane to try and taunt your brother into fighting him. “You got a broken woman. A weak boy. And your sister? I’m sorry to say, sweetheart, but you’re just as fucked up as I am. And Rick, you ain’t got the first clue how to fix it. Now raise your gun.”

Rick puts his hands up and says, “You're going to have to kill an unarmed man.”

“Shane, please,” you beg. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“You ain’t going to do shit.”

Biting down on your tongue hard enough to draw blood, you aim for Shane’s leg but miss and graze his foot.

Rick takes the opportunity to try and tackle him, and the two end up in a scuffle. You try and attempt to break it up but are shoved back. The only stop is when Shane's Rick is pinned to the ground, his hand wrapped around his neck with one hand and his gun to his head with the other.

“Shane, I’m begging you. Please, let him go. We can go; we can leave, just like you wanted. Just me, you, and Jace.”

He lets out a dark chuckle. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not; I’m not; I swear we can go.”

“You’re that great of a mom, y/n, that I know you won’t let me near Jace for some time after I kill his uncle.”

“Please, please…”

You fall to your knees seconds after another gunshot rings out, and you scream. You’d just shot someone you loved. You toss the gun behind you and quickly crawl over to them, place your hand on Shane’s chest, and sob, “What did I do, Rick? What did I just do?”

“Y/n…”

“Shane, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Rick kneels beside you and tries to help put pressure on the wound. “You made her do it. Why did you make her do it?”

“I love you, Shane; I’m so sorry.”

For a split second, a smile crosses Shane’s lips before his features become lifeless.

Rick lets out a wailing sound that you hadn’t heard him make since your father died. He then pulls you back from Shane’s body as you cry hysterically. “I just killed him. I just killed the father of my child.”

He holds you tightly. “You had to; you had to, otherwise, he would have killed me, and god knows who else.”

“Dad?”

You both turn in horror and face a distraught-looking Carl.

Rick walks towards him but freezes when Carl raises his gun.

“No, no, put the gun down, munchkin.”

Carl pulls the trigger and shoots something behind you. Moving out the way you cry out, seeing it’s Shane’s body, he’d turned into a walker.

Taking deep breaths, you close your eyes, listening to your brother try to console his son. When you open them again, you see a horde of walkers walking right towards you.

[topazy]

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Shane Walsh × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Mentions of SA, blood, character death

Chapter: 2.10

Lori gave you a knowing look while Andrea continued to whine about issues that weren’t real issues. While Maggie and Beth argued in another room, Andrea stated she thought you should try to encourage Beth to accompany you while taking Jace for a walk around the farm, insisting the fresh air would do the three of you some good.

You did want to snap back at her since Andrea was unhelpful most of the time, but you bit your tongue for the most part and started washing dishes in the kitchen. It’s not until Andrea mentions your brother and Shane being sexist since they always dealt with the more dangerous tasks, leaving the women behind to do all the housework.

“It's because they were cops! They risked their lives every day, and they know what they are doing.”

Andrea lets out an over-the-top huff, placing her hands on her hips. “Well, if they spent more time teaching us how to defend ourselves properly, then maybe we could share the load. I should be able to handle my own goddamn gun.”

“Oh yeah, because you’re so good at handling them.”

Lori shakes her head. She was trying her best to defuse the tension, but neither you nor the blonde were listening at this point.

“Excuse me?”

“Last time you fired a damn gun, you almost killed Daryl!”

—

You step out onto the porch with a fresh cup of coffee in your hand. It wasn’t the real stuff and properly tasted stale, but it was better than nothing. You sit down beside Maggie on the wooden steps and hand it to her. “I thought you could use this.”

“Thanks.”

“How is she?”

Maggie pauses before answering, “She’s alive.”

You give her a sympathetic smile. Things had gone from bad to chaotic in the last twenty-four hours. Beth had locked herself in a bathroom, broke the mirror, and then used the sharp material to cut herself; luckily, her father was able to stitch her wrist in time. Rick and Shane had taken the kid Randell somewhere far to leave him, but apparently the area was surrounded by walkers, so they brought him back to the farm, where he was now essentially a hostage.

“Since we got here, we’ve brought nothing but trouble; I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you do,” she says, letting out a slight chuckle. “But if I’m being honest, I’m glad you folks came here. I just wish it was under better circumstances.”

You watch as Daryl comes out of the barn covered in blood, which you assumed came from Randell. You feel physically sick thinking of what could have transpired behind those wooden walls. You tell Maggie, “I’ll be back shortly.”

You walk quickly to grab a bucket of water that was half full and a cleanish cloth that was hanging up to dry, and you call out after your friend, “Daryl, wait up.”

He keeps walking towards one of the wells. “I gotta go wipe—”

“The blood off? Yeah, I got you covered.”

He lets out a snort as he begins to wash his hands. “You just assume I’d come out covered in blood?”

“I noticed the cut on your arm earlier, and I don’t want it to get infected.”

Daryl glances down at his arms before cleaning them as well. Usually he was covered in more dirt and dried blood than the rest of you; what worried you was the uncovered cut on Daryl’s arm surrounded by dirt. He says, “You're such a mom.”

—

Daryl asks how your injury from the crash is healing as you make your way towards your group, which is sitting by the tents outside. The first thing you notice is the look on Shane’s face; he’s looking pissed off as his eyes dart between you and Daryl.

“Boy, there’s got a gang, thirty men,” Daryl says. “They have heavy artillery, and they ain’t looking to make friends. They roll through here; our boys are dead. And our women... they’re going to wish they were.”

Hearing those words come from Daryl, you instantly become scared. You avoid making eye contact with Shane as you walk towards him; he hands you Jace before resting his hand against your hip. He whispers, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Carol notices Daryl’s bleeding knuckles. “What did you do?”

“Had a little chat.”

When your brother starts to talk about ‘eliminating the threat’ you shake your head, not wanting to hear anymore, you decide to leave the conversation. “I’m going to take Jace inside.”

You didn’t doubt Randall was a bad person, and you believed you would rather wish you were dead if his gang tuned up, but you weren’t going to partake in anything to do with him.

—

“Can I ask you something?”

As soon as you hear Dale’s voice, you roll your eyes. You walked to the other side of the farm so you could be on your own with Jace. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Dale, but I’m not going to vote.”

“So you’re just going to stand by and let your brother kill the boy?”

You lean against a tree, continuing to stoke Jace’s thin, dark hair with your fingers. “My personal opinion on this doesn’t matter, but what does is keep our people safe.”

Dale looks disappointed. “So you agree with killing him; you just don’t want to admit it.”

Learning that Randall stood by and watched as men in his group raped two teenage girls in front of their father stirred something inside—emotions that you couldn’t shift. “All due respect, it’s different from us, Dale. I understand why it’s wrong, all of us against one kid, but…” You stop talking when your mouth suddenly becomes dry, and it takes you a moment to find your voice again. “I’ve met Randall’s before, and trust me, you want to be on the opposite side of them.”

Dale gives your arm a friendly squeeze and says, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He licks at his lips and says, “I spoke to Shane earlier to try and convince him to change his mind.”

“I imagine that went well,” you snort.

“He was dead set on never letting a man like that near you again, and I had a theory you met men like that in the past; that’s why I’m sorry. Nobody deserves—”

“Dale,” tears fall from your eyes. “Just please, don’t go there.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. Just—they listen to you, Rick, Shane; hell, even Daryl seems to value your opinion.”

You remain standing in the same spot as the older man walks away. “Dale?” He turns back around to face you. “How long did it take you to stop trusting Shane?”

“I never did.”

—

You stand by the front doorway of Greene's farmhouse; everyone has gathered to talk about Randall’s fate. You had already made it clear you weren’t getting involved, a decision that received mixed reactions; some thought it was unfair, while those closest to you understood why you weren’t getting involved.

You hold your hand out for your nephew and say, “Carl, I need you to come help me in the RV.”

He pouts, “What with?”

“I need you to help watch Jace while I mend a bunch of torn-up clothes.”

“Now?”

“Go.”

Carl sulks as he walks by you to go outside. You didn’t really need his help in the RV, but you, Rick, and Lori wanted him out of the discussion.

“You’re really not going to share your thoughts on this?” Dale asks.

You glance around to make sure nobody else is listening in before answering. “Honestly, I don’t know what I think. I want to believe I’m a good person who votes against it, but then I remember what he’s done, and then I’m unsure. But I do admire you, Dale; it’s not easy. Always remember who you are.”

He gives you a slight nod, and then you leave the house.

—

You’re unsure of how much time has passed by when you hear a loud yell of pain. “Carl, stay here with Jace and lock the door behind me.”

You run out of the RV and in the direction of the field. Your brother calls out for T-dog to get a shotgun as he follows closely behind you.

Spotting a walker trying to bite Dale, you pull your blade out of your belt and stab it in the head before pushing it off him, but you’re too late. Dale’s stomach had already been ripped open, and he was bleeding out. “No! Rick, Rick! Help, over here!”

Daryl is the next person to arrive. He kneels down and says, “Hey, buddy, you’re going to be okay.”

Rick and Andrea both scream for Hershel to come outside as soon as they see Dale, but you knew there was nothing he could do. You hold Dale’s hand and kiss his forehead. “It’s okay; it’s going to be okay.”

Dale was so confused by the loss of blood that it was hard to know if he knew what you were saying to him. But you could tell he was in pain and choking on his own blood from the way he gurgled.

“Shane... Rick,” with glossy eyes, you look up at them, your voice breaking. “He’s suffering; please do something.”

Rick points his gun at Dale’s head, but he’s unable to pull the trigger, so Daryl takes the gun from him. You move further back as Daryl kneels down, but you still hold onto Dale’s hand, not wanting him to feel alone.

“Sorry, brother.” Daryl pulls the trigger, ending Dale’s suffering.