seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Slovakia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Greece
seen from United States
seen from Azerbaijan
seen from Azerbaijan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
Cruel to be kind
Summary: the one where you realize something about Shane's habbits.
Masterlist
Warnings: smutty themes from the start; set as shane begins to change his personality in the early seasons, indescript mentions of piv sex, blowjobs/throat fucks, pussy spanks and fem!recieving oral. Mean!shane vibes lowkey
Something you've noticed about Shane is that he's kindest after he's cruel.
He might've fucked you down on the forrest floor, twigs and leaves getting caught in your hair, but his apology after was sweet. He'd pulled you into his lap, softening cock still nestled into your gummy walls leaking pearly cum, gently pulling free the greenery. His thumb careful, wet with spit, as it swiped the few streaks of dirt from your skin.
"S' make it all better hm? Get my girl nice n' clean"
He was the same again when he'd pushed you to your knees against a tree, knees rubbed raw, as he'd bullied his way into your throat. Your head had bumped against bark, an ache forming quickly. But Shane hadn't stopped, hadn't slowed, hell hardly noticed as he fucked his way to spilling down your throat. You were covered in spit, lips and cheeks shiney with it after deep retches that left you drooling. Not to mention the soggy slaps against your cheek with his cock as he angled you to work his balls. Shane had cleaned you up after though, cooing quietly, swiping away fat tears with his own shirt.
"Did so good baby, s' good. Lookin all pretty when you get messy."
Then there was that time you'd made a misjudgment, put yourself in danger and he'd spanked your poor cunt raw.
You couldn't move, hands bound against your spine, body dropped over his lap. You couldn't squeal either; not wanting the rest of the camp to hear the second, more punishing, part of his chastisement. Your pussy drooled by the time he was done, firey hot and swollen with a sick kind of need. Pitiful tears rolled silently down your cheeks, soon kissed away by his lips.
"Nawh shhh shh, s' alright. Poor things all tonight.. S' mean aint i"
It hurt badly, but he'd laid you down after, untied you with a guilty glimmer in his eye. Shane had soon wiggled his way between your thighs again then, this time in apology, tongue flicking out in broad laps against needy flesh. He licked and kissed you down there, pussy sore and swollen as he'd lavished attention to your achey little clit he'd been the one to abuse.
"Awh there she is.. Theres my baby. Gon' make it all better. Shaneys gotcha"
That was just Shane now it seemed. Changed- changing- with each day in a world with no rules left to follow. He wasn't bad, Wasn't mean, not before all this anyway.
But that was life now.. And you take his cruelty first if it ment being back in his arms for a little while. You'd bask in that fleeting kindness, In the gentle touches and honyed words that come after the punishing ones, because deep down that was still your Shane.
The one before the world and he lost its mind.
dry humping with shane walsh.
best read while listening to “crush” ethel cain ⋆｡⋆𖦹.
“already told ya no, baby.” shane for the eighth time grunted. you were meant to be focusing on patrol but that quickly went out the window when you couldn’t stop staring at his print.
“please, shane!” you pleaded, its embarrassing at this point but shane doesn’t budge.
“quit your whining, sweetheart, i already—“ he watches you pout, scoffing and continuing to look at the road ahead.
frustrated and horny you start to slide your hand up and up until it rests on his crotch, smirking as you start to move your hand.
shane almost chokes, not thinking you’d be this bold so he finally looks you in the eye. “you ain’t gonna give up, are you baby?”
you shake your head repeatedly and almost squirm in your seat as shane pulls over. he undos his seatbelt and pats his thigh saying: “have at it, baby.”
you start climbing over the console until you are fully situated in his lap, still fully clothed, too impatient to wait. you start moving your hips desperately.
shane grips onto your hips, muttering into your ear “so fuckin’ desperate, baby girl.” you repeatedly nod, a whimper escaping your lips.
“shane—“ he smirks at that. “yeah, bunny?” he moves the hair out of your face. “i-it feels so good—“ he nods, “i know it does, baby. you gonna come for me?”
you nod, moving faster to chase the on coming orgasm. he kisses your jaw and you completely break. “mmph! shane—“
he stifles as moan as you come on his lap, even through your panties he can feel the wetness. “fuck, baby. did so good f’me.” he caresses your jaw and you smile brightly up at him.
“maybe ill let you come on patrols more often, hm?” he tilts his head “could use this typa help out here.” you try to not seem overly excited but you fail, already imagining what you and shane will get up to next time.
reblogs are appreciated
hiiii! my first ever fic so it’s probably ass but i hope you enjoy! requests are open for any ideas<3
No Going Back
Pairing: Shane Walsh x Reader
Summary: Losing your virginity to your dad’s best friend.
Warnings/Tags: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, dubcon, smut with no plot, dbf!shane, grimes!reader, bunny!reader, dom!shane, female reader (she/her) with female anatomy, kinda size kink, BIG age-gap (reader is a college student), virgin!reader, loss of virginity, hair pulling, unprotected p in v sex, guilt, drunk sex, daddy kink, drunk driving (be safe), no outbreak!au, no established relationship, no use of Y/N
Word count: 3.5k words
A/N: This fic is so self-indulgent lmao. I posted a dbf!shane blurb here, but this is a proper oneshot. This was a lot of fun to write, and I’m slowly overcoming my writer’s block. Somehow daddy kink snuck in there, which I have never written, but the heart wants what it wants. Shane’s lowkey a piece of shit in this, sorry!! Also, shoutout to @officergrimesloml and @c0yotebites for proofreading this for me, love y'all <3
Masterlist | S.W. smut masterlist
After an argument with Rick, you’d fled to Shane’s apartment. The two of you had been drinking for hours when things escalated. You were perched in his lap, straddling one of his thighs. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been drunkenly shifting against the denim of his jeans. Your body was instinctively seeking out some kind of friction. Shane’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, his words slurred with intoxication.
“What’re you doin’, darlin’? Humpin’ my leg like a fuckin’ dog.”
As soon as your brain processed the words, your eyes widened and you stopped moving. Your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and you wouldn’t meet his eyes. That wasn’t the reaction that Shane was hoping for. Roughly, he gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. The liquor was making him more aggressive than usual, something that both scared you and aroused you. The confusion was dizzying. He held eye contact and spoke firmly.
“Did I say stop? Do it like you mean it.”
“W-what?”
Huffing at your obvious disorientation, Shane ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He knew that this was wrong, but he couldn’t stop. Not when you were so soft and sweet against him. Your vanilla perfume flooded his senses again, and his resolve was broken. Taking things into his own hands, he let go of your chin and planted both hands on your hips. His fingers splayed across the fabric of your skirt as he started guiding your hips. Pressing searing kisses to the side of your neck, he broke the brief silence again.
“Just like that. Do what I’m doin’. C’mon, bunny.”
Whimpering softly, you did what you were told and shifted your hips. Shane hadn’t let go, but he was less forceful. To his surprise, you were doing well on your own. His eyes roamed your figure as you ground against him. He was painfully hard now; an obvious tent had formed in his pants. You didn’t even have to see it to know that he was big. Too focused on this task, you had no idea what was coming next.
Shane waited until your head lolled back, and your moans grew louder to harshly shove you off his leg. You looked stricken with panic as you hit the cushions. Had you done something wrong? Your eyes filled with tears, and you weren’t sober enough to control them. He quickly swiped them away and reprimanded you. His voice was softer this time, though.
“Nu-uh, none of that. We just gotta do somethin’ else.”
“Huh?”
Your innocence was both maddening and invigorating. Shane laughed in disbelief and shook his head. Did you really not know that he was about to fuck you? He couldn’t resist teasing you.
“Oh, bunny. Use that pretty little brain and think. What do you think I’m gonna do?”
Not wanting to disappoint Shane, you paused and thought for a second. The moment it hit you, you looked comically shocked. You’d never had sex before, and your face flushed again. Your voice was shaky and hesitant.
“I-I’ve never done that, Shane.”
Despite being aware of your innocence, he hadn’t expected you to actually be a virgin. To be fair, he’d lost his virginity his freshman year in high school. You were in college now, so he’d expected you to be more experienced. The idea of being your first thrilled him more than he was willing to admit. He exhaled heavily and looked you over again.
“I’ll show you what to do, darlin’.”
Without waiting for your response, Shane stood up and lifted you from the couch. You were plastered, so you just let him carry you. He wasn’t going to fuck you in the living room, so he took you to his bedroom. Dropping you on the bed, he was far too intoxicated to be gentle with you. Not that you minded, though. Being thrown around by the deputy was one of your many fantasies.
You’d never been in this room of the apartment, so you took a second to look at the decor. Like the stereotypical bedroom of a middle-aged man, the walls were pretty bare. On his bedside table, there was a photo of Shane and Rick in their uniforms. The last thing you needed was to see your father while waiting to be plowed. You were about to speak up when your skirt was harshly pulled off, and you were flipped onto your stomach. The second Shane saw you weren’t wearing underwear, he groaned and chastised you as he removed his belt.
“No panties, huh? Fuckin’ wanted this, didn’t you?”
“Y-yes.”
You hated the way your voice was failing you, but you couldn’t dwell on that. The soft clinking of the belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor made you tense. Shane’s hands returned to your hips and his thumbs pressed into the dimples of your back. Seeing you like this was something he’d imagined plenty, but he’d never actually acted on it.
He was about to speak again when he noticed the picture frame that you’d been looking at. Fuck. You were Rick’s little girl. Before the thought could make Shane nauseous, he forced it out of his head and adjusted the picture frame so it was facing away from the bed. He then redirected his attention to your body. His voice was more strained this time.
“Look at you, sweet girl. Layin’ so still for me.”
“Tryin’ to be good.”
Your words weren’t clear enough for Shane. Gripping your hair, he roughly pulled your head back and applied tension to your scalp. You yelped, but that only added to his enjoyment. He tightened his grip further and demanded.
“Speak up, bunny. Can’t hear you when you mumble.”
Taking a shaky breath, you winced at another tug of your hair and tried to steady your voice. Your mumbling was an awful habit.
“I said that I’m tryin’ to be good.”
“Yeah? You wanna be good for me, huh?”
“Yes, sir.”
Your use of the honorific made Shane’s head spin faster than the alcohol in his system. Before he could respond, you whimpered and begged softly.
“Please, Daddy."
That was what undid Shane. He pressed your face against the mattress and quickly dropped his boxers. You made the mistake of glancing over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of his cock. As expected, he was huge. You swallowed thickly and looked visibly overwhelmed. He turned your face again and aligned himself with your entrance. His voice was softer than earlier but ever so patronizing.
“Relax, babygirl. Won’t do us any good if you’re all tense.”
Trying to stay calm, you took a shaky breath and forced your muscles to relax. Shane’s warm palm moved up and down the curve of your ass, sending shivers down your spine. His calloused skin scraped slightly against you. He squeezed the backside of your thigh before speaking again.
“Deep breaths, bunny.”
“Will you go slow?”
Shane barked a laugh at the request and shook his head. You didn’t even have to see his face to know that he was grinning. His breath was hot on the back of your neck, and his fingers released their grip on your hair. You were confused by the sudden lack of tension, but then he anchored his hands on your hips. His tone was somehow more condescending this time.
“Oh, baby. You want me to go slow? Not fuckin’ happenin’.”
You didn’t have time to respond before Shane aligned himself with your entrance and forced himself inside. You’d hoped that he’d let you adjust to his size, but you were wrong. The pain was sharp and burning. You gasped and started to cry softly. The tears running down your cheeks were darkened with mascara. Not pausing his movements, Shane kissed your shoulder and softened his tone. The contrast was dizzying.
“You’re doin’ so good for me, angel. I know it hurts. Such a good girl.”
He stroked your hair as he spoke, and like a pathetic puppy, you leaned into his touch. You whimpered and spoke through the tears.
“It hurts, Daddy."
“I know, baby. I know. You’re takin’ me so well, though.”
Shane was completely buried inside of you, and he took a moment to admire the view. You looked so small beneath him, and it made something in his chest ache. This was so fucking wrong, but he couldn’t stop. It’s not like you wanted him to. This time, he gave you a warning before moving.
“Gonna start movin’, baby. You got it.”
“M’kay. M’tryin’.”
Kissing your shoulder again, Shane started thrusting his cock in and out of your cunt. The stinging intensified before slowly fading. You could feel him stretching you in ways that you hadn’t imagined, and the tears kept flowing. As he moved, deep grunts left his throat and his fingers dug into your doughy flesh. You glanced over your shoulder again and watched as his motions faltered. Feeling insecure, you spoke up hesitantly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’, babygirl. You’re so pretty.”
Despite the reassurance, he shoved your face back into the mattress, and your makeup was staining his sheets. What he couldn’t admit was that seeing your face made this all too real. He was fucking his best friend’s daughter. He was at least twenty years your senior. That was not a thought that he was choosing to ruminate on. Instead, his movements became harsher. It was too much, and you cried out again.
“Fuck. Go easier. Please, Daddy."
“Sh, sh, sh. I got you.”
His words were soft and comforting, but he wasn’t slowing down. You kept whining and struggling to stay put. Shane firmly held you in place, though. Once the pain dulled, he was finally giving attention to your clit and the pleasure coiled tight in your stomach. His words were slow and coaxing.
“You’re so close, bunny. You gonna come for me?”
“Can I?”
Clearly wanting to fuck with your head, Shane feigned ignorance and hummed softly. His release was rapidly approaching, but he was trying to drag this out.
“Can you what? You need to use your words.”
The wait was agonizing, and you whined in frustration. Was he trying to kill you? Knowing Shane would stop if you got an attitude, you exhaled sharply and ground out your plea.
“Can I come, sir? Please.”
Shane groaned at your words and used every remaining ounce of self-restraint to hold himself back. Finishing inside of you was the last thing that he needed. Although the primitive side of him would have no reservations about filling you with his seed. He was quick to answer you.
“Go ahead, sweetheart.”
That was all the encouragement that you needed. The orgasm was dizzying, and you could feel your eyes rolling back in pleasure. No one had ever made you feel like this. Shane made sure that you’d come before letting himself climax, his first unselfish act of the night. He didn’t stop either, just kept driving into you until he was satisfied. It was unclear if he didn’t care about overstimulating you or if he just hadn’t picked up on it yet.
You could barely catch your breath, and you spoke up hesitantly. The shake in your voice made it clear that you were genuinely in pain. The lack of honorific was further proof that he might’ve gone too far.
“It’s too much, Shane. Please stop.”
The second Shane heard those words, he froze. Actually hurting you was the last thing that he wanted. The softer part of him surfaced, and he immediately stopped thrusting. His thick fingers combed through your hair again, and his voice was almost tender.
“Oh, poor bunny. Did I hurt you?”
Not wanting him to feel guilty, you shook your head and put on a brave face. Your voice was steadier this time, but slightly forced.
“No. I mean, not really. It was just a lot, y’know?”
You’d slurred your words a bit, and Shane suddenly felt sick. This was wrong. So fucking wrong. You felt the shift in the way he was holding himself, but he cut you off before you could say anything.
“Get your skirt back on.”
Even though his tone invited no argument, you were too drunk to hold your tongue. You shifted on the mattress and foolishly voiced your confusion.
“Why, Daddy?"
“Don’t. J-just get dressed.”
The pet name that had aroused him only minutes ago now filled him with shame, and Shane wouldn’t meet your eyes. He stepped away from the bed and pulled up his jeans and boxers. Instead of explaining his change in attitude, he grabbed your discarded clothing from the floor and tossed it in your direction. He then spun on his heel and left you alone on the bed.
As you watched him walk away, your cheeks flushed with humiliation and your chest tightened. You felt like an idiot for believing in this fairy tale and looked down at the mess Shane had made. Finger-shaped bruises marked your hips from where he’d been holding you in place. He hadn’t even left you with anything to clean yourself off with.
The liquor amplified your pettiness, so you rubbed yourself all over his sheets. You only stopped once your skin was dry enough to not leave any stains on your skirt. After redressing your lower half, you wiped your cheeks and tried to get off as much mascara as you could. Most of it was on Shane’s sheets. You willed yourself not to get emotional as you rejoined Shane in the living room.
When you exited his bedroom, you saw Shane pacing in front of the couch. His hand passed through his hair as he turned to face you. The man was sick with guilt, and it was written all over his face. His heart sank when he saw the slight redness to your eyes, and he beat you to speaking.
“Gonna take you home. Rick’s probably worried sick.”
The mention of your father’s name made your stomach churn, and you nodded mutely. You’d been drunk for most of the night, but it was starting to hit you all at once. The nausea rolled through you, and you had to take deep breaths. Shane couldn’t stay in this apartment with you any longer, so he began putting on his coat and shoes.
You went to copy him, but you were much more uncoordinated. When moving towards the coat rack, you tripped over your own feet and stumbled forward. Luckily for you, Shane was close enough to catch you. He steadied you and mumbled beneath his breath.
“Jesus, bunny.”
The nickname relaxed you slightly, and you subconsciously leaned into his touch. Shane had been cold with you minutes earlier, so you were soaking in the attention. Despite his thoughts being muddled with self-loathing, he still found himself lightly stroking your hair. Your words ran together when you mumbled against his chest.
“Don’t feel good.”
Allowing himself to be gentle with you again, Shane sighed softly and kissed the top of your head. This was all his fault. He never should’ve let you come over this late at night and he never should’ve supplied you with the alcohol. Fucking you while you were in this state was the final nail in the coffin. He needed to get you home before he made things worse. His tone was tender when he spoke again.
“I know, sweetheart. I need to get you home, okay? Need help with your coat?”
You wanted to be stubborn and insist that you could dress yourself, but you were far too dizzy for that. Instead, you sighed and nodded. Your voice was smaller than usual when you answered him.
“Yes, please.”
Shane made sure that you were steadier on your feet before grabbing your jacket off of the coat rack. He was careful not to rush you as he pulled your arms through the sleeves and zipped it up. The man was also drunk, so he wasn’t moving as smoothly as he typically would. He was still better off than you, though.
Now it was time to get your shoes on. There was no chance that you’d be able to do that on your own. Shane double-checked that you were stable before grabbing your shoes from where you’d tossed them off by the couch. He crouched in front of you and pulled your foot to rest on his denim-clad thigh. This threw you off balance, and you tumbled backwards. He mumbled a curse and grabbed you before you hit the wall.
“Careful, darlin’.”
“M’sorry.”
In spite of the situation, your soft apology was sickeningly sweet, and the corner of Shane’s mouth quirked upward. He leaned you against the front door and returned to putting your shoes back on. As he did this, you reached out and started running your fingers through his hair. This caught Shane off guard, and he barked a laugh.
“What’re you doin’?”
“S’soft.”
Shane couldn’t do anything but laugh and shake his head. Your delirium relieved some of the tension. At least, temporarily. He grinned up at you, and your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. His chest tightened at the sight, and he finished getting your shoes on. Now, he had the task of getting you into the truck.
It had taken several minutes, but Shane finally got you to cooperate. He carried you to the truck and propped the passenger side door open. When he was about to set you down, you clung tighter and murmured.
“Wanna stay with you.”
He sighed deeply and laid you in the seat, despite your protests. Once again softening his tone, he brushed a stray piece of hair from your forehead and responded.
“You can’t, bunny. Rick’s probably already wonderin’ where you are.”
“Fuck him.”
“Hey, don’t talk ‘bout your old man like that.”
In any other circumstance, Shane reprimanding you would’ve earned a groan, but tonight was different. It stung. You shook your head and sheepishly mumbled.
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright. You’re my sweet girl, but you need to talk like it.”
“Okay.”
Being called his sweet girl calmed you, and you were ready to listen. Obediently, you lay back in the seat and waited for Shane to buckle you in. He playfully rolled his eyes at your laziness, but still buckled you in. Confident that you were secure, he paused and thought for a second before kissing your forehead. You hummed contentedly, which made him laugh again.
Once Shane climbed into the driver’s seat and got driving, the drive was relatively smooth. His apartment was only ten minutes away from your father’s house. You were staying there while you were home from college. To his horror, Rick was waiting for you on the front porch. He was going to have to come up with something fast.
You would’ve been equally panicked, but you were fast asleep with your cheek smushed against the window pane. Fuck, it was almost endearing. As he pulled into Rick’s driveway, he began formulating a cover story. He’d barely put the car in park before his best friend was knocking on the driver-side window. Shane rolled down the window and cut Rick off as soon as the other man opened his mouth.
“She’s fine, brother. Just drunk. Found her wanderin’ ‘round.”
“Wanderin’ where?”
Despite Rick’s raised eyebrow, he trusted Shane, and he wasn’t asking this out of suspicion. He was simply gathering the details, as any good cop would do. He wasn’t thrilled by the smell of alcohol on Shane’s breath, but he decided not to comment on it. You’d returned in one piece. While Shane gave his answer, he sighed and moved to unbuckle you.
“Down by my apartment. Guess she was lookin’ for somewhere to calm down.”
For whatever reason, Rick wasn’t questioning where you’d gotten the alcohol. At your university, you’d picked up a mirage of habits that he didn’t approve of. You seeking solace in Shane’s apartment wasn’t surprising either. You’d always found comfort in the older man, and your father was too occupied with other parts of his life to examine that further.
Shane was going to wake you up gently, but it was late and your father was impatient. Rick walked over and opened the passenger-side door. You’d been leaning up against it, so your drunk ass nearly tumbled out of the truck. Shane was still leaning across the center console to unbuckle you, so he was able to catch you. He cursed Rick beneath his breath.
“Shit, Rick, be careful.”
“I’ve got her, man.”
Rick’s patience had run out hours ago, and Shane didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Instead, he sat back in his seat and watched as you were carried into the house. He waited until the two of you were inside before he drove back to his empty apartment. The guilt that had embedded in his chest was piercing again.
Once he got back inside, he refused to dwell on the hollowness and resorted to drinking more until he fell asleep on his couch.
Taglist: @vngelisse @dixondisease @angelwings-crossbowstrings @idkwthgoitmww @smuttfuelled @glennseyeball @tvduxveil @death-in-a-tar0t-card @spookysturnz @nichemint @asparagus-antics @xanaxiii @hail-yourselves @viviandarkbloom11 @softcherryvanilla @thatonewriterchick @dixons-wifey @chronic-fangirl-222 @sunkissedandseraphic @buffydixon @electroniczombieprince @kenchewwarriors @local-airhead @zencherob @wallflowerwrites @daryldixonswoman @holdmytesseract @tinytownn @mickgallavich @shtgshdrnit @spookij @whosurboyfriendnow
𝐝𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 - 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐡 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
pairing: shane walsh x afab!reader word count: 2.4k summary: seeing shane come home in his uniform really gets you goin warnings: mean-dom!shane, coarse language, unprotected sex, creampie, sucking on dog tag, officer roleplay, pet names (‘little girl’ used twice)
After waiting hours on end for Shane to come home, you finally caved and went through the motions of your typical nighttime routine. Silk pajamas, face wash, lip mask, the usual. Nothing extravagant, but enough to make you feel as though you have a decent self-care routine. Well, dating a cop, you kind of needed one. Otherwise you’d start getting premature stress wrinkles at such a young age. That was especially the case tonight considering how late he was from his shift. It was going to take some time adjusting to his wacky schedule. This was an easier feat when you still lived in your quaint apartment the next town over.
The two of you had just moved in with one another not even a full week ago. There’s still boxes to be unpacked and furniture to be put together in other rooms of the house. All jobs that Shane can do on his day off, you assume. Instead of being productive in any way that is actually beneficial to your living situation, you opt to sit on the couch and play a chick flick in the background. Not that you were really paying attention; doom scrolling on your phone and a large glass of wine was of more importance.
The only dim light besides the television was the lamp to your right. It illuminated the comfort and safety of your recently bought home. You knew Shane made it his own space the moment he hid different weapons practically around every corner, all for you in case of emergency. Still, you made no movement to get up and grab the shotgun when you heard someone walk through the front door. Your mind knew better; it was your man finally coming home.
“Was it another homicide?” you ask aloud, still looking at your phone.
Heavy boots tread across the hard wood floor for only a moment, but then you hear them retreat back. Probably to take them off before he gets into the living room to see you. This makes you smile softly. It’s the little things that really make you and Shane work so well together.
His scent enters the room before he does; sweat, tobacco, and something similar to that of warm amber. You shoot your head up the moment Shane finally stops in front of the television. His highly alluring profile makes you chew on your lip.
He answers your question in that husky tone of his, “Nah, some asshat decided to run on us during a traffic stop. He was quick, too. We got ‘em going eastbound on- now why in the hell are ya lookin’ at me like that?”
It’s not your fault he looks so good. It’s entirely his.
The man’s uniform catches your eyes first. The subtle, silent visual that he is a protector of the community. Not only that, but it stands for authority; this alone makes your pussy throb.
Then your gaze gravitates to the way his arms bulge out the sleeves, practically making the fabric want to rip. It’s enough to make your mind wander to images of the man using his strength to squeeze your waist, or pick you up and fuck you right here against the wall.
Something about his badge stands out the most. Seeing his official status plastered right there on his tight, sturdy chest triggers a familiar movement somewhere between your thighs. Within seconds, you already know a pool of slick is going to start pooling in your lacey underwear. All from looking at your boyfriend in his uniform.
“Shane, I-”
“Yea’?” he asks, slightly impatient.
That’s literally all it takes. You’re kinda easy like that, you suppose. He silently agrees.
A mere fifteen minutes later, you’re bouncing on the man’s lap while his thick cock grazes that very tender area inside your pussy. He’s got a real joy in his eyes watching you move up and down atop his muscled thighs. Whereas you had originally got worked up from seeing him in his uniform, he was eating up the sight of you being so pathetic for him. The way you surrender your body to him is never a decision you regret. You always love these moments; this one especially so.
Shane still has the uniform on. The top buttons are undone, pants pushed down to the spot right below his knees. Your fingers run themselves over his upper torso, sometimes brushing along the edge of his badge and name tag. His dark-hooded eyes stare intently at each move, his thick, warm digits digging themselves into your hips to encourage you to keep moving. You feel the man’s cock pulse the louder you moan.
“Fuck, sweetheart, didn’t know you liked getting so messy like this,” Shane teases, moving his right hand to toy with your clit. It’s so wet from how hard and fast you ride him, which only makes the man whistle and smirk, “like it when a cop tells you to ride him, huh?”
“Nng, ye-yes, fuck.”
Shane runs the pad of his finger in slow circles. This time, instead of moaning loudly, you begin to arch your back and release a wretched whine. The action causes your chest to push against him, the badge poking your breast. You suck in a sharp breath and he notices instantly. The way your eyes widen was a dead giveaway. You attempt to hide your face, but it’s to no avail.
He already saw how the uniform affects you once. Now, he’s just reliving it again.
“Aw, babygirl, you fallin’ apart on me?” he purrs in your ear, nipping at the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, and whispers something about how sweet you smell. For a split second, you take note of the way he snaps his hips towards your cunt like he’s hungry for something more. A faint smack echos in the room from his balls tapping your abused pussy. He groans in time with you, a bead of sweat trailing down Shane’s temple.
He takes pleasure in how you gasp so innocently, taken aback by his lewd commentary. The grip on his shoulders tightens by a fraction. Meanwhile, you contract harder around his length. You mewl, “Come-Come on, Shane. Stop teasin’.”
“Ain’t gonna,” he murmurs, pushing you away from his chest so he can admire the white ring that begins to build around the base of his cock.
“Gettin’ tired,” you softly cry, struggling to force yourself up and down. The strain in your thighs isn’t horrible, but definitely not pleasurable. Shane doesn’t care though.
“Just a little more, babygirl. You can take a little more, can’t you?”
His voice strangles to get those last few words out. Shane throws his head back and conjures up a porn-like moan in the process. His thick member twitches inside you, indicating he’s already close. Your palms find themselves anchoring onto his chest for stability. As you rock your hips back and forth, sometimes moving them in circles just so you can feel his girthy tip rub the special spots deep within, you gasp, “Officer Walsh, my pussy can’t take it ‘nymore.”
“Oh, yea’? Well ain’t that too bad, ‘cause I’m pretty sure the only way you’re gettin’ out of trouble, little girl, is if you let me cum inside this tight pussy. You’d let me do that, right?”
The man’s perverted question rolls off his tongue like second nature. To no one’s surprise, the words work like a charm on you. Like muscle memory, you start to bounce yourself on his lap once again and choose to ignore the pain. Even when your body feels on fire, the desire to make this man cum deep inside clouds your usual way of thinking.
The wet warmth around Shane’s cock was already sending him into highgear, but now that you had resumed your quickened pace, his hands began running up and down your sides. The pads of his digits are hot to the touch. On occasion, they tense up and pinch your flesh. Then he stutters out more encouragement to keep you moving. It was like he couldn’t tell which part of your body he wanted to squeeze the most.
Your focus shifts from watching the man’s expressions to his thick neck. Nearly every time your drenched hole comes crashing down on his length, his Adam’s apple bobs furiously. Beneath the man’s uniform is the glint of his dog tags. They’re barely noticeable, but somewhere in between listening to his beautiful sounds and bulging veins touching your walls, your hand has a mind of its own and suddenly touches the material.
Shane notices and looks you in the eye. Your pace begins to slow down. He asks, “Whatcha’ got there, huh? Care to explain yourself?”
The dog tag is fully exposed now, held in your grasp. The stainless steel chain somehow makes his whole ensemble even hotter. You’re positively drenched at this point. Then he goes and asks a question like that, as if you’re getting interrogated.
It’s hard not to moan back a response.
“Can’t help it, Officer,” the statement is short and leaves room for more.
“Was gonna tell you that you have the right to- oh, fuck, remain silent, but I don’ think that’s gonna be the case here in a minute,” Shane says as you continue to inspect the military tag.
“Huh?”
Shane sinks further into the couch, moving his bottom down the cushion to put you at a higher angle. Without having to ask further, you already knew what was to come next. You’d stopped moving all together in anticipation and planted your knees into the soft upholstery, looking away briefly because eye contact seems dangerous at a time like this. You can’t decide whether to stare at his badge or the chain.
However, before Shane begins moving, he takes the dog tag out of your fingers and promptly shoves the little stamped tag into your mouth, observing the way it bottoms out so nicely on your tongue and how quick you are to taste the steel on your buds. Your lower half wiggles around and your cheeks flush a deep red. Shane’s cock twitches again, then he says, “Yea’, just like that babygirl. Suck on my dog tag for me, ‘kay?”
“Mmh, yes, Officer Walsh,” you hiccup, eyes glossing over with a glaze Shane always associated with your climax. He knew you were close, and so was he.
The man wastes no more time and begins thrusting up into your soaking cunt, making the entire room fill with the sound of skin slapping on skin, harmonious sounds of deep pleasure, and his chain rattling in the process. His hips jerk hard the longer he watches you suck on his dog tag, like it was meant to be there.
“Yes, just like that. You’re so hot, honey, don’t stop,” admiring the arousal leaking out of you onto his crotch and the crease between his thighs. He already needed a shower after his shift, but fuck, he loves knowing that you’re part of the reason, too.
“Hmph, yes, right there,” you quiver in his lap, “so close!”
“Me too, honey. Officer Walsh will be done with you soon, don’t you worry,” he reassures, still pounding so deep in your pussy.
The room reeks of sex, and truly it was secretly Shane’s favorite way of breaking in the place. He already made a comment a couple days ago about fucking you raw on every piece of furniture in the house; apparently the couch was first pick.
Your body begins to shake as the orgasm approaches quicker and quicker. It looked as though you were right on the edge, so Shane continued talking in his raspy voice to push you towards release. “Cum for me. Cum for Officer Walsh like the good girl you are.”
All you can do is hum in agreement, nodding quickly and shutting your eyes tight as you chase your climax. Not long after, the knot in your stomach comes undone and your entire body vibrates from the intensity. Your pulse beats rapidly in your ear as you convulse on the man’s cock once, twice, three times in a row, producing a primal reaction out of your boyfriend.
Shane’s hands tighten their grip on your waist. He begins to pick your body up and down in time with his thrusts, practically using you like a doll. You huff, “Sh-Shane! Fuck, I mean, Officer, please cum in me!”
“Shit, shit, shit, you’re gonna make me cum- fuck!” he exclaims loudly, crying out of complete bliss. You can feel the way his cock pulses his load inside you over and over again, making a mess of fluids that you will have to clean up later.
Your eyes widen at his reaction, momentarily taking the dog tag out of your mouth so that your lips can quirk into a sweet grin. Shane shudders more, likely from how hard he just finished, then slowly slumps to the point you lean into his chest and rest your head on his shoulder. His uniform is damp from all the sweat; not to mention his pants are probably heavy with both your fluids. All in all, his reaction is satisfying to no end.
“Honey, that was…wow.” Shane musters after some silence passes.
“Yeah…hot as hell.”
He presses his lips to your cheek, your jawline, then finally manages to hold you in a position where he can kiss his lips. The two of you taste one another with vigor, as though the last twenty or so minutes wasn’t an entire scene out of some porno. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, pushing past once you grant him entry. You both fight for dominance only a couple seconds before Shane starts taking control. His hands clutch your bottom, kneading the thick flesh and causing you to groan.
“Shane,” you murmur, only to be pulled back in for another hungry kiss. You giggle against his lips, then break apart to tell him, “babe, we gotta shower. Please. I feel gross.”
“Hm,” he says, rolling his semi-softened cock inside you, “I think Officer Walsh needs another round. Can’t seem to figure out if you’re off the hook yet, little girl.”
“Was I that bad, officer?” you ask in a sultry tone, pointer finger trailing the stubble on his cheek.
“Honey, I think that was the wettest you’ve ever been. Really. Need you so bad.”
His breathing is suddenly very heavy again, and just a few seconds later, you feel his member grow inside you. How the hell was he wanting another round after all this? Not that you’re opposed…
“Fine. But you’re fucking me in the shower.”
“Deal.” he says while trying to fight back a playful grin, diving back in for another heated kiss on the now ruined couch.
tags: @amethystfawn @twd-bee3 @rickgrimes-cupid @kitty-grimes @shtgshdrnit @lilzz1236969
in my jon era
Walk In the Woods (5k)
The Walking Dead fanfic, (season 1! daryl x fem!reader) SMUT 18+ MDNI
a/n: I meant for this to be a quick 2k one shot and got carried away.
this is my first twd fanfic so please let me know if its ooc, I know season one daryl is kind of a jerk, but you can still see how sweet he can be!! in-between his angry outbursts lol, enjoy!
***18+ MDNI***18+ MDNI***18+ MDNI***18+ MDNI***
Tags: fem!masturbation, semi public!sex (in the woods), fin in v, cvm eating (brief), slight voyeurism (she doesn't know until after that he was watching her, but in his defense she was calling his name...), getting caught! trope, mentions of canon typical gore, cussing (duh)
Summary: You let your imagination get the best of you and when you go to blow off steam you call all sorts of trouble to you.
You had all you could handle from Shane’s mouth for the day. Part of the group that hadn’t gone into Atlanta was working on laundry, but Shane had asked you to do a perimeter patrol with him. Originally you were pleasantly surprised about him feeling confident enough in your shooting skills, but now you were trying to figure out how many handfuls of dead leaves it would take to shut him up. It was one critique after another with him.
“Don’t hold your gun like that. You looking for every damn stick to step on? Why are you twisting your wrist like that? Don’t do that. Make sure you turn the safety off. Jesus, just follow my steps. God damn woman, who taught you to walk?” The frustration you had for him boiled in your chest.
When you had first met the group, it was on the highway not too far from camp and you had thought Shane was easy on the eyes but the second he opened his mouth any warm feelings you had a hint of dried up and vanished. Over time, Lori has tried to ease the tension by explaining that Shane meant well but you suspected different. There was an aggression in his eyes that lingered longer then is should, and you weren’t the only one on uneven terms with him.
You were pulled out of your mental rant when Shane stopped dead in his tracks.
“Wha-“ you began.
“Hush up.” He threw out his hand, like he was going to cover your mouth, but your body instantly recoiled from his touch. You glared at the back of his head before scanning the surrounding area. You heard faint footsteps crunching the leaves and your heart started to hammer.
A walker slowly came into view as it stumbled between the trees, your gun raised, aimed at his head but Shane’s hand shot out again. “Are you stupid, woman? Don’t shoot, it’ll draw more. I got this.” A smirk appeared and he puffed out his chest as he holstered his gun and pulled out a large hunting knife. Your eyes almost hurt with how hard you rolled them at him; his cocky attitude was his biggest flaw.
He looked pleased as punch with himself, smirk plastered on his face as the walker dropped to the ground, finally getting its true rest and you couldn’t take it anymore.
As you spun on your heels and walked away you could hear Shane try to ask where you were going and when you gave no response his bootstraps followed you.
“HEY!” Shane’s voice boomed, “Where the hell are you going?” His thickly accented voice sounded like a parent trying to scold their child for disobeying and the lid you had on your anger flew away.
“Wherever the hell I want! I’m a grown woman and I’m tired of hearing you bitch, Shane. Go back to camp or don’t, I don’t care but FUCK OFF!” You had spun around, walking backwards as you threw attitude at him and when you yelled, your hand not gripping your gun flipped him the bird. He stood there, hands on his hips, for a beat before stomping after you again.
“Oh, I do not think so, princess” venom dripped off every word and pure rage bloomed in your chest, “You know it’s not safe to be out here alone. Be pissed at me all you want but you’re walking that ass back to camp. You can be pissed there.” His long legs caught up to you quick and the hand that wrapped around your bicep tugged you hard. Hard enough that your balance is thrown and your body unfortunately collides with his chest.
His warm breath fans over your face and disgust contorts your expression. You push off his chest immediately, but he hadn’t let go of your upper arm so you couldn’t go far.
“Now what the hell got your panties in a twist?” His hand shook your body a bit, as if trying to rattle the truth out of you.
You tried, in vain, to push away from him but his grip stayed firm.
“Shane let me go.” Your voice was deep and had a growl in it, “I’m tired of hearing you bitch about every fucking breath I take. You wanna complain? Then DO IT YOURSELF. LET ME GO.” Your nails started clawing at his hand, trying to lift his fingers as you yelled, not caring how many walkers came to the sound of your voice.
In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best move, picking a fight with Shane away from the rest of the group, but you couldn’t take it anymore. Shane changed his disposition drastically when he sheathed his knife. He pulled your arm behind your back and threw his other around your neck to hold you still. You kicked and clawed, trying your hardest to get away from him but his arms were made of iron.
You let out a shriek of anger before he tensed the arm, he had around your throat, “Will you Shut. Up. You are gonna bring every damn walker straight to us.” His breath tickled your ear making you squirm harder.
You were feeling your head get a bit fuzzy at the pressure, your hands slapping at his arms when you felt something slam into Shane, tipping you both over. You fell to the ground gasping in air as your hand moved to your throat. You heard Shane fighting with whatever had taken you both down and fearing it was a walker; you rolled over, drawing your gun.
Daryl was at the end of your barrel, shoving Shane further away from you. You gasped seeing him there and you dropped your gun immediately. They broke apart and Daryl placed his body between you and Shane.
“The hell’s the matter with you?” His arm swinging at Shane as he yelled, “Don’t put your hands on her like that, your twice her size asshole.”
“She was the one that lost her damn mind! Trying to go off into the woods alone.” Shane screamed right back. “You trying to bring every walker into camp you fucking bitch or do you just have a death wish?” He shifted his head to look at you, but Daryl blocked his line of sight.
Daryl had heard the fight you two were having, walking through the woods tracking the walker Shane took down. He shook his head but didn’t move an inch.
“Then I’ll watch her back, you can go back to doing whatever you want Shane.” You stared, stunned, at Daryl’s crossbow slung on his back. He was the quieter one compared to his brother Merle, but Daryl still ran his mouth with the rest of them back at camp. He wasn’t one to be described as chivalrous, but here he was.
Shane laughed but it was twisted with malice, “Oh you’re here now? You trying to be some sort of hick prince charming? HA. This is rich.” He put a hand on his hip, thumb brushing against his split lip, courtesy of Daryl. “You know what? Take her, I never should’ve brought this dumb bitch out here anyway. Go back to camp.” Shane stormed off but neither you nor Daryl moved.
You had noticed how red his neck and ears had gotten when Shane called him a hick prince and you didn’t know what to say to him. You had felt something wiggle in your chest as he yelled at Shane but now you felt mortified that you were shoved off on him, like a burden. It seemed like Shane’s taunts hung in the air between you. When you opened your mouth to apologize Daryl’s feet started moving.
“Wait!” Your hand shot out to grab his wrist, but he yanked it away at your touch. You felt tingles in your hand from the quick contact, as if his skin had been electric. He stopped walking but still wouldn’t turn around to look at you. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry to be a burden but thank you. For stopping Shane.” You saw his head dip and caught his faint voice.
“Don’t need to thank me.” And he started walking again.
When you both had made it back to the camp’s perimeter he stalked off back into the woods, not having looked at you the entire walk back. You stared after him, that wiggle in your chest getting stronger. You let out a huff and made your way down to the water; you may as well help the others with the rest of laundry.
---------------------------------------------------
The days that followed were the most chaotic you’ve ever had. Gaining Rick, but losing Merle, then having the walkers tear through camp, and losing more friends. Losing members of the group hurt more than losing their home but both were heavy blows to the group’s morale. Being on the road again was dangerous, all of you looking over your shoulders with every noise, but you needed to get to the CDC.
Making camp each night on the side of the roads was becoming second nature. Everyone knew their job, unloading only what was needed to have a comfortable night’s rest. You had been watching Daryl more since that day in the woods, and that wiggle in your chest turned into butterflies when you watched him. You began to appreciate unpacking each night just so you could see his arms flex, the way he silently helped everyone in camp because he thought no one would notice.
Sure, he was rough around the edges, and his anger was explosive and violent at times, but you had seen a crack in his armor, revealing a gooey center he hid fiercely. You had solidified the theory when you caught him passing Sophia and Carl some extra bits of his dinner the other night. Again, while he thought no one else was looking.
Daryl Dixon was a softie!
Everyone was gathered around the fire for dinner with Dale on watch, sitting on top of his RV parked on the edge of the road. As dinner was finished and the kids were put to bed you couldn’t help but notice that Daryl was absent.
You were seated next to Glenn, who was picking at his empty plate, but your mind lingered on Daryl. You assumed he must have gone to his tent for the night, not in the mood to socialize with everyone. Giving in to the temptation, you let your mind roll back to the view of his muscles bulging as he worked to unpack camp today and layered it over the last time you got laid. The conversation around the fire wasn’t very stimulating but you weren’t ready to go to sleep on the ground, so you let yourself get lost in the fantasy of what Daryl’s hands would feel like grabbing your hips, pulling your body flush with his.
To say it had been a while since you had that kind of intimacy was an understatement. Even before the apocalypse had started it had been a while, you couldn’t even remember the face of the last guy you slept with but that wasn’t important. Your imagination supplied all you needed as you stared into the fire, unconsciously biting the inside of your cheeks.
A sharp jab to your side brought you crashing back to reality. Your head shot up, the conversation around the fire was still going so you looked to the source of the jab. Glenn.
“Are you okay? You were staring at the fire for a while.” His voice was soft, low enough that no one else noticed.
Pink popped on your cheeks, and you avoided his gaze, “Yeah- yeah, I’m good. Just lost in thought I guess.” You forced a chuckle in a vain attempt to cover up your embarrassment. You realized how flushed your body felt and fanned your face.“Actually, I’m getting a bit warm. I’m gonna get some space from the fire.” You stood, checking your knife, still tucked into your shorts. You turned to walk into the woods when Glenn called out to you again.
“Wait, are you sure you want to walk into the woods at night? It’s dangerous out there. I can come with you if you want?” You knew he meant well as he rose from the fire, but you raised a hand to stop him.
“I promise I won’t go far Glenn. If I need some back up, I’ll scream, okay?” Not waiting to wait for his confirmation you spun on your heel to head into the night but a gentle hand on your wrist stopped you again.
You looked over your shoulder to see Glenn. He held out a flashlight, and his puppy eyes bore into your own. When you took it, he went back to his spot by the fire without another word.The night air licked at your flushed body, but your mind was back on Daryl. You swung the light around as you walked, no destination in mind, your breath getting heavy. Images were flashing in your brain, Daryl shirtless as he worked, his low voice tickling your ear. You thought back to the sparks you felt when your hand brushed his and wondered if you would get the same sparks all over your body at his touch. There was heat sizzling in your blood and a familiar slick feeling gathering between your legs as you walked.
Your heart racing from the fantasy you were building in your mind. Giving into the temptation, you decided to masturbate. Fuck it, life was short.
It had been a while since you made yourself cum, long overdue if you were being honest. You quickly looked behind to make sure you were far enough away from camp that no one would hear you as your hand popped the button on your shorts open. You leaned against the tree closest to you as your hand plunged into the fabric, pushing past the hem of your underwear.
Corse hair was the first thing you felt as your fingers slid down to your aching cunt. You could feel your underwear sticking to your skin, soaked from your own imagination. A soft moan fell from your lips as you felt how wet you were, your clit twitched at the friction. You move your fingers lower, circling over your entrance, and your hips do a small roll at the pleasure.
This is the first time you’ve touched yourself since the world went to hell, and honestly you had forgotten how delicious the heat building up inside you was.
You spread your juice all over yourself before giving your clit the attention it deserved. You let out a whine as two fingers applied pressure while circling yourself, and the image of Daryl took over your brain. Your eyelids closed to focus on him, pretending your hand was his instead of your own. Pleasure curled low in your body, shooting up into your heart in staggering strikes.
You let the flashlight Glenn had given you fall to the forest floor so that hand could slip under your shirt and bra pinching and rolling your hard nipple between your fingertips. The action made your hips jerk and more moans were pulled from you.
As your hands worked your body and you tried to stay quiet, but you couldn’t help yourself. Letting some slip out as your hips continued to roll, his name on the tip of your tongue.
You were already close, the tension building and you were panting between moans. His blue eyes were in your mind, and you could almost feel his warmth behind you, supporting your weight while his hands moved around you.
Your hand left your tits to join the other in your pants, and you wasted no time plunging two fingers into your aching pussy. It had been so long since you had been stretched out that even your fingers felt like too much. The tree bark was digging into your shoulder blades, but you didn’t care, your knees were weak from the euphoria.
Feeling your tight walls contract on your fingers brings Daryl’s name from your lips. If he had heard you moaning his name, he would hear how desperate you were to get his fingers on your body, stretching you out to fit him perfectly. You were far from camp, no need to hold back, right?
The thought of his thick fingers replacing yours drove you into a frenzy, your fingers circling your swollen clit to speed up and press down harder making your knees start to shake.
Daryl’s name was muddled between your moans after that, you’re panting louder. You were on the verge of ecstasy, about to let yourself fall off the edge when something rustled the leaves near you.
The sound almost pulled you completely from the moment, but your orgasm shattered through you and without thinking you moaned Daryl’s name louder than before.
You sagged against the rough bark of the tree wanting to relish in the high, but you couldn’t ignore the sound. Pulling your wet fingers from your shorts and buttoning them back up as quickly as you could, you leaned down for the flashlight you had dropped. You were worried there was a walker nearby. Your body was still buzzing and twitching from your orgasm, and it had your chest heaving. You flashed the light in the direction of the noise, expecting to see a walker shambling towards you but the forest was empty.
Spinning in a circle to check you were still alone you let out a chuckle. It must have been some little critter running in the night. The realization of what you did, making yourself cum to Daryl Dixon, didn’t feel real but the butterflies you got from thinking of him now proved it.
You started to walk back to camp but heard the rustle of leaves again, this time you turned immediately towards the sound and caught the silhouette of someone ducking around a tree. Your body froze immediately.
If there was someone around that tree that means…
Oh God.
Oh God.
Someone heard you. While you were moaning Daryl’s name.
You wanted to run as far and as fast as you could. Or get eaten by a passing walker. Anything to get you far from whoever was hiding behind the tree.
The light didn’t move so whoever was behind the tree was trapped and seeing as you couldn’t move your body from shock, both of you were stuck.
Your mouth is the first thing to unfreeze, “Either you step out from behind the tree or I’m walking around it” You had hoped to put some bark in it to be intimidating but it came out quiet and strained.
There was no movement from behind the tree, and the anxiety that shot through your system ruined whatever glow your orgasm had brought you. You were about to start walking around the side of the tree when the person hiding moved into your light.
You stopped breathing when Daryl’s blue eyes met yours, feeling an extreme whole-body flush, red taking over your face at the complete mortification you felt.
Your jaw dropped open, but no words came out.
Trying to gather your thoughts is hard. How do you talk to someone that you were just thinking about while you made yourself cum in the middle of the damn woods? What do you say?
‘Maybe,’ you try to find a way to move past the embarrassment, ‘maybe he didn’t hear me? Is there any way that he is hard of hearing all of a sudden? He could’ve walked up just right at the end and maybe the sound of something blurred my words?’
You can’t even buy your own flimsy lie, but your mouth starts moving to kill the silence that stretched out.
“How long were you there?” Your heart was jumping in your chest as you speak softly, but Daryl just continued to stare at you.
It was annoying how hard his face was to read; you couldn’t tell if he was disgusted or freaked out but the set in his jaw had you nervous.
‘God, he’s going to hate me for this.’
The urge to run away was growing from each second of silence but you had to hear what he said. There was a false hope, that he didn’t hear anything, that you clung to.
“Did you say my name?” His voice is as quiet as yours was, but it still shot into you, the words straightening your spine. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, not without knowing how he would react. You knew you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, frozen in front of him.
“I thought you were back at camp.”
A desperate attempt to stall for more time. You still couldn’t read his face, and you had never been more tense. Dread was sinking into your bones making you feel a chill in the air.
He shook his head while you spoke, “Did you say my name?”
You couldn’t avoid it again, but you took a step back and dropped your eyes to your shoes. Your voice was barely a whisper, “Yes.”
Daryl takes two steps forward, his beat-up boots coming into view.
“Why?” His voice is breathy and the opposite of what you expected. You were expecting him to be disgusted, maybe even to yell at you.
Finally, you raise your head to meet his gaze and see what’s brewing in his storm blue eyes. The set in his jaw isn’t disgust; he’s holding himself back.
'It's the end of the world, what's the worst that can happen? Fuck it, be bold' the voice in the back of your mind gives you the push you need to throw caution to the wind.
“I can’t stop watching you, Daryl. Ever since you saved me from Shane I,” Going against the anxiety that still lingered you take a step closer to him. Close enough that your chests are almost touching. His eyes flick down and back up so quickly you almost miss it. “I can’t stop thinking about you Daryl. Tonight, I was thinking about how your hands would do a better job than mine.”
His body is leaning towards you, but his hands stay balled up at his side, not saying a word. So you decide to follow your bold streak.
You pop the button of your shorts again and slowly pull the zipper down, something you didn’t even make time for earlier. You kept watching his face, but his eyes dropped down to watch your hand. You weren’t rushing your movements, letting him drink in every detail he missed the first time.
Curiosity started to replace the anxiety, when would he break? Already his hands uncurled, and his warm breath was fanning your face from how close he was. When your hand slips under the elastic hem of your underwear again you don’t hold back the quiet hum, you’re still soaked.
That’s what broke him.
His hands rise towards you, one hand grabbing your waist to pull you in close while the other hand rips yours from your shorts replacing it with his. A gasp came from both of you when his fingers felt how wet you were from a few minutes ago, and you feel his fingers brush against your clit. Your hands drop the flashlight and fall to his shirt bunching the fabric to keep you steady as you widen your stance a bit. His arms were warm and strong, his face dropped in close, his hand alone sending ripples down your body, jerking your hips encouraging his hand lower.
Daryl pushed his hand down, rubbing a straight line down to your core and back up to your clit. It was still sensitive from your first orgasm, and you hiss through your teeth. The heat of him alone driving you crazy.
His thumb rubs slow circles before dipping down to collect more cum, making your knees turn weak. It sent a wave up to your chest jerking your hips into him again, this time a moan gets dragged out of you. The hand he had grabbing your waist moved to wrap around your lower back to help support your weight, your foreheads touching.
Daryl’s fingers found a steady rhythm, whimpers spilling from your mouth more frequently and he was loving every second of it. He took pleasure in watching you unravel in his hands this easily. He didn't know he had this kind of effect on you.
Heat surged from you, bleeding into him, your cheeks flushed with lust and you wrapped an arm around his neck as your hips start to match his motions. His blue eyes are locked on his hand in your pants, pulling his wrist back slightly to get a better view of his glistening fingers.
“Fuck, you got this wet just from thinking of me huh?” Theres a smirk on his lips but your eyes flutter closed when he presses a fingertip flat against your opening. His thumb hasn’t stopped its torturous pattern around your clit, and your hips press down harder begging his hand to slip a finger inside. He has the audacity to chuckle at your attempt, intentionally pressing his thumb harder to make you moan again.
Your eyes open and you move quickly to crush your lips to his. The fingers on your cunt freeze but the arm around your back pulls you into his chest tight and he tilts his head to get a better angle. You lick a hot line across his lower lip, and he opens his mouth to meet you immediately. Kissing him was as intoxicating as you had imagined earlier.
Rolling your hips as your tongue slides into his mouth gets his fingers moving again but they begin to slowly slide in. Feeling your soft lips on his had shortened his patience.
He swallows all the high-pitched whines that fall from your lips, your pussy trying to stretch around his two fingers. He can feel every small twitch as he fills you up. His thumb goes back to twirling around your sensitive apex to help you stay soaked.
You pull your lips away from his to gasp when his fingers bottom out.
“You good?” Daryl nudges your nose with his, thumb still slowly working your clit as you adjusted to him. He could feel your sharp breath, and kept his fingers still despite his intense desire to start pumping his fingers already.
A pleased hum and a drunk nod were all you could give him at the moment; your brain was short circuiting. If this was just two of his fingers his cock would be a feat.
You moved your hips, slowly rolling, trying to get him to start, but it’s his turn to let out a groan feeling how warm and tight you were around him, responding to every movement you made. Daryl could feel every flutter and spasm, he could only imagine how it would be wrapped inside you.
He went slow, pulling out just to his knuckles before flexing his fingers deeper inside. He savored the broken moans and desperate kisses you gave him.
“You like feeling that stretch? Got you all desperate just to cum all over my hand. Heh, feel better than your hands?” His deep, cocky bravado sends sparks of pleasure straight to your sex, your hips sinking his fingers deeper inside.
“Please,” You moan against his lips.
“Please what?” It’s barely a whisper, his lips brushing yours.
“Please don’t stop.” You press your lips to his, sliding your hand up his chest, threading your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. You feel the shiver run down his body, your tongues twist together while his groans. You're all around him, consuming his thoughts the way he had plagued yours.
His fingers curled, hitting the spot that makes you feel drunk on his body. You start rutting your hips into his hand, chasing the fire.
“Fuck yes, right there, curl your fingers just like that, Daryl, please” Your babbling, moans breaking up your words. The hand gripping at his hair to anchor you to him tugs harder and he groans into the kiss, the vibrations go straight to your quivering pussy.
Daryl moves quickly to spin you around, so your back is pressed against the tree he hid behind, his hand never leaving your cunt. He knew you needed the support but he was dying to explore your body more.
“Please, what pretty girl? Tell me what you need.” The change is position allows his hand to be free, and it wanders up your shirt and under your bra. His big hands palm your plush tit as you come undone around him. His thumb rolls your pebbled nipple, and you grip his fingers tight inside you.
“Fuck, Daryl.” It comes out in a whine; he has you right on the edge for the second time tonight. “Please don’t stop, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I love your hands.”
“Yeah, cum for me, cum all over my hand pretty girl, I got you.” His fingers don’t let up their fast pace, but when he kisses you it’s gentle. The delicate way he speaks to you while his hands do their sinful work send you over the edge completely.
Your second orgasm has your legs shaking and Daryl crushed his lips against you trying to swallow your scream of pleasure. His fingers slow and his thumb pulls away as he helps you ride out your high. Both your hands cup his face as your tongue explores his mouth. You can’t get enough of him.
When he pulls his fingers from you, it pulls out slowly, careful of how sensitive you are. He brings the two fingers up to his mouth immediately popping them in, moaning at the taste of you. His eyes close in bliss as he licks them clean.
He can’t help a smirk spreading across his face seeing your fucked out expression as you're still leaning on the tree. Your lips are pink and swollen and your face was still flushed red. The hand he had under your shirt pulls out and comes to rest on the tree next to your head, his face coming in to give you a chaste kiss on the lips.
“Did I feel better than your hands?” You smack his chest playfully as you laugh at him.
You bring your lips up to his again, “Much better I’m afraid.” It’s your turn to smirk at his confused expression.
“Why are you afraid?” His brow creasing in the center as he pulls back slightly to look at you better.
“I’m afraid,” You kiss his cheek trailing down to his neck, “because I know I’ll get addicted to your hands, Daryl.” You lick his throat before nipping at him. His body presses closer to you at the feeling of your teeth on his skin and he tries to let out a carefree laugh.
“Guess I’ll just have to keep them on you.” His smug expression is back as you tug his closer.
do you think you could find any p!links for a softdom shane walsh?
I have certainly given it a try!! i often see shane in a much stricter, harder dom role but this was a fun little change of view!🫶
18+ links/drabble below-
Shane's always been one for being in charge, especially with his sheriff's background. Its just something that's seemed to come naturally in all aspects of his life- that authoritive streak, keeping people in line.
Infact, Its part of the reason he'd been friends with Rick to begin with, that mutual recognition.
It's different now though, with you around, with the world flipped on its head, the dead walking.
He's not exactly softer, Christ no, if anything its the opposite, but he's more mindful. More aware of harm in all forms and what it can do to a person.
Especially when that person is you. His lil lady, his baby.
Its not that he thinks you too soft for this world now, but it certainly tugs at his heart, especially when he's got you bleary eyed and rutting against him like a little bunny in your shared tent after a long day.
"My brave girl, jus needs t' empty that head huh? worlds so scary for my baby" he coos, voice like honey in your ears as you rock yourself in his lap, puffy cunt bare and catching on the fabric of his cargos.
You hiccup into the crook of his neck, fingerd scrabbling to keep him close, fisting his shirt. Your whine is pitiful as it floats into his ear, wet from your tears. "Shaney p-please i need.. Need you"
A wet spot mars the fabric of his trousers by now, but Shane truly doesn't care, his palms squeezing on the flesh of your ass just to keep you grounded. "I know.. poor thing, you jus' keep on ruttin a lil longer though yeah? you earnt it, Let 'er get nice n' wet 'fore i fuck her"
Link one. Link two
We're going to pretend like i didnt loose the links i had originally chosen for this literally an hour before posting..
please, stay –
shane walsh x f!reader
word count: 6.2k
summary: based on this request...
content: kinda weird age gap in the beginning?? not rly tho?? (18/21)???, ts is all over the place omg, vvv unedited, lots of inner conflict, rough n tuff shane until he's around you, lori im sorry i shit on u so hard bbg
a/n: we dont talk abt how this has like four or five different settings/times in here...i don't know what happened nor do i care to fix it :D geniunely entered a flow state writing this and whatever the product is what's getting posted, love me some possesive/stupid dumb man brain shane as usual so here ya goooo
Sitting around the dully lit campfire, there was a sour taste in your mouth despite the crumpled juicebox in your hands. It was apple juice, a delicacy that was rare to come by nowadays, the cardboard crinkled and spurting out dribbles of juice that stuck a sticky sheen to your fists. No one seemed to notice the inner turmoil that was boiling inside you, bubbling over and spitting all over the flame–not that they noticed much of anything anyways.
There were a large number of you still, all having met on the highway when things seemed like they’d be over in a couple weeks, the panic simmering low–that was two months ago. The kids babbled amongst themselves, happy to be up late for once, trading their various sweet treats as the wrappers crinkled in the dirt. Andrea and Amy sat together, looking over some book with Dale who roped Jim into the conversation with a hearty laugh. Glenn kept a wary eye on the area, still maintaining conversation with T-Dog who was chugging down his third beer of the night and laughing with Jacqui and Carol. Even Daryl and Merle joined in–as much as they could without starting a fight–keeping more to themselves, but still basking in the warmth of the fire, reluctantly enjoying this peaceful moment.
Everyone was so in the moment, too eager to welcome this fleeting second of normalcy, that no one noticed the absence of two members of the group. Or maybe they did and just had better things to focus on–unlike you, whose eyes couldn’t stop flicking off to the clearing in the woods where you saw them disappear nearly fifteen minutes ago.
It was always the same routine: Shane would rile up the crowd, propose some treat–a campfire burning just a little brighter than he’d normally allow, dishing out saved up snacks for the group–or insist something in the air didn’t feel right and usher everyone to sleep early.
No matter the excuse, you knew the true intentions behind it–Lori Grimes.
You couldn’t blame the man, Shane was in a difficult place mentally–his best friend dead after suffering a coma that he took most of the blame for, having to face the end of the world with the responsibility of another man’s wife and son in his hands, all the while he still reluctantly held out the promise he made to your father.
It was years ago when you had met Shane–barely a year into his police career. He had been moved from the desk, days of filing paperwork and booking soon to be far behind him. Confidence was something he never lacked, that smirk and glint in his eyes a permanent fixture on his face–except the first time he was thrown into chaos.
Each day, he rode beside his partner, a man who was years his senior and dreadfully tasked to reel in Shane’s impulsive drive. He dismissed most calls, deciding it would be too dangerous to go in with such an eager rookie by his side. Shane took offense of course, his naivety and attitude taking the forefront of his mind–and tongue. The two butt heads most days, sometimes having a close call that could have costed Shane his job, but deep down, someone must’ve seen potential in him.
“You better be ready for this, kid,” his partner grumbled, flicking the sirens on as he drifted out of the lot.
The two had just received an urgent call, and despite his first instinct to pass it on to someone else, they were the only two in the area. Sighing, the older man explained the precautions he had gone over a million times, Shane nodding as he tried to hide his excitement for their first big case.
Pulling into the driveway of the suburban home, Shane’s excitement was immediately sapped–the scene of a supposed robbery seeming almost vacant. There were no doors open, no windows broken, and as he rounded the back of the house it was becoming less apparent to him why they were even here. He double checked the address he had clumsily written down when his partner had informed him they’d be taking the call.
Approaching the front door, he lifted his hand to knock, but the second his hand met the wood, it clicked open with no give–a long stretch of dark hallway was all he could see.
That unwavering confidence that usually held Shane’s shoulders high, fell within himself, dragging his spirit down with him. Noticing the shift, the older man brushed past him wordlessly, flashlight in hand.
“King County Police Department!” Shuffling further down the hall, keeping his back close to the wall, Shane followed closely behind, making sure to check any corners. “Come out with your hands up!”
With a soft nudge to the shoulder, Shane’s partner directed him up the stairs while he covered the lower floor. Heavy boots creaked up the old wooden staircase, surely giving away his location to anyone inside, but his heartbeat was too loud to care.
Reaching the top, he noticed a shift in the corner of his vision–a closet door slipping shut, the click attracting his attention.
“Come out slowly,” he instructed, holding his gun out, flashlight focused on the door. “I know you’re in there.”
Shane truly didn’t know what, or who, he was expecting. With never having been on the actual scene of a crime this serious, mostly handling simple robberies and traffic disputes, his mind had shifted for him to assume the worst–a man, holding some sort of weapon, ready to pounce the second that door creaked.
Instead, with a soft click and a shudder, the closet opened and your body, curled up and frozen, was huddled as far back in the corner as you could manage. You were grateful to see him, that was evident in the way your eyes softened and stopped blinking back tears, but your body was still shaking.
Reaching your hands up at him, you wordlessly beckoned for him, and in a moment of pure fear let yourself be hoisted into the arms of the officer.
“Walsh, it’s clear down here,” a deep voice rang out from the bottom of the staircase, casting a gasp from your lips. “I need your status, kid. Ain’t no use havin’ you as a partner if you ain’t gonna speak.”
His footsteps were already heading up the stairs, flashlight gripped confidently in his hands. He knew Shane was more than likely fine, no sounds within the past few minutes had really alarmed him that anything had gone wrong, but he still needed to learn to communicate in this line of work.
In his panic, cradling you in his arms while still having the rest of the floor to survey, Shane was fumbling for words. “Sir-” he started, turning to face him, squinting at the flashlight in his eyes. “Haven’t cleared the floor, but…” Both men were looking down at you now and a deep sigh left the older man’s lips as he nodded his head to the stairs.
“Get her outta here, Walsh,” the man boomed and Shane was quick to shuffle downstairs. “Hurry and call the medics!”
He did as he was told, lowering you onto the concrete and grabbing a blanket from the back of the car that he draped over your shoulders. He didn’t say much, too scared to ask the wrong thing, suddenly too unconfident to even look at you.
“Was there anyone else in there with you?” he asked finally, once the medics had been called.
Nodding, you picked at your fingers in your lap. “My dad.”
Shane didn’t even say a word before dipping back into the house where his partner was still scoping out the scene. Running back to where he had found you, there was a slight thudding through the walls a couple doors down.
“Walsh!” he heard from the opened master bedroom. “Where’ve you been? Get your ass in here!” The commands were more urgent than he had ever heard and his feet were moving before his mind could keep up. “You called that ambulance?”
He nodded dumbly, brain turned to mush at the gory sight on the floor. The carpet was stained with a deep shade of red, there was an older man laying in the middle of it, spurting out gurgled breaths of blood. Pressing towels to a wound, most likely a gun shot, the man in charge ushered Shane over to take his place. Brain fuzzy and legs wobbly, Shane lowered himself to the ground, carpet making a loud squelch in the blood as his knees fell.
“Bastard got out the front door before we even got here.” There was a bitterness in the older cop’s tone that was ingrained in the tucked away anger that came with seeing too many bad people get away.
Hearing the faint sounds of the emergency team rounding the block, the two exchanged a brief glance and nod before Shane was left alone to tend to the man. He didn’t want to look because he knew he’d have to find something to say in that jumbled mind of his.
“Please…”
The sound was enough to shock him from his thoughts, a breathy plea that filled the room with a haunting silence afterwards.
“My daughter…” The man had twitched slightly, fingertips grazing the hand pressing onto his wound. “Take care of her, I’m all she has.”
His eyelids were drooping shut, a final battle between consciousness, but Shane wasn’t ready to let go. He hadn’t known the man for any longer than two minutes, but the fact that he could have prevented all of this by just arriving a few minutes earlier was too much for him to bear.
“It’s gonna be alright, sir,” he said, that youthful hope still peeking through the cracks as he spoke. “But I- I promise I’ll get her to the hospital they take you to. Sit with her the entire night even.” He was rambling, mouth moving before he even knew what he was saying–anything to get this man to stay with him.
It was slight, but the man shook his head. “Just promise me…”
“I promise.”
So when Shane came out of the house that night, covered in your fathers blood after the paramedics pronounced him dead on the scene, he didn’t know what to do with himself–with you.
You had only seemed a few years younger than him, photos of what seemed like a recent graduation displayed on the walls as he was walking back down the stairs. Everything seemed slower coming back outside–his footsteps, every blink, even his breathing felt shallow–but when he saw you, still curled up on the front steps while the cops and paramedics skittered around the building, everything fell back into place.
From that moment forward, he knew what it meant to be a cop and just exactly why he chose this career. He would fulfill his promise to your father–nothing more, nothing less–even if it was the end of the world.
“Hey, kid,” he said, sitting next to you awkwardly, keeping his distance when he noticed you jump. He had been assigned to inform the family–not only of your father’s passing, but that the man who did this was still out there–Shane didn’t even know the first words to say.
Your eyes were glassy, blanket hugged tightly around your shoulders and hair messily wrapped around your face. The moment you looked at him you knew–and he knew you knew. The way you looked at him with such predetermined grief, like you felt bad that he had to come down here and even tell you this, struck him with more hurt than he had ever known.
He opened his mouth to speak, say those same rehearsed lines they had taught him back in the academy, but none of it seemed right–all too dry and routine.
“He really tried to hold on f’ya,” he whispered finally, voice crackling at the end. “We’ll get the bastard who did this.”
Crumpling into his side like a lost puppy, you cried into Shane’s shoulder and instinctively he pulled you close. He didn’t care if it made him look weak or unprofessional, but a few stray, silent tears fell down his face when you grabbed onto his coat with shaky hands.
—
It had been years since your dad had passed, but Shane’s presence in your life was no less than it was that day. You were terrified to return home, convinced the man would come back for you since you had been the one to actually see his face. It was a rational fear, one that Shane took to heart when he let you stay in his apartment.
The arrangement was only meant to be temporary, but after years of living by himself or with other men, Shane didn’t mind the touch of a woman in the house. You had a steady part-time job, the thought of college too much to think about with all the grief you held heavy on your shoulders, and to keep your mind off things often occupied yourself with cooking and baking.
Coming home from late shifts to a neatly wrapped meal for him on the counter was something Shane grew accustomed to–appreciated even. You didn’t owe him anything–he was the one who offered this arrangement. After a while though, when almost a month had gone by without speaking on the terms of this agreement, you finally broke the ice.
“It’s almost March,” you mumbled casually over dinner one night, absentmindedly poking at your food.
“Mhmm,” Shane enthused cluelessly. “M’ready for this cold weather to be over. Can’t stand havin’ to sit in a freezin’ car every mornin’.”
He looked up at you with such a shameless smile that made your heart flutter. Over the course of living with him, Shane had proven to you that he was a protector of sorts, always noticed your little quirks and constantly adjusted his behavior to make you felt safe. He would scope out every room, each situation he could–making sure he fulfilled his promise.
Through his funeral and every anniversary since, Shane had never once mentioned his promise to your father–all of his actions seemingly coming from a place deep in his heart. That’s what you truly believed for years, your reality almost like a movie you had dreamed to live out your entire life–your handsome prince arriving to swoop you away to his castle, far away from any of the tragedies life had planned for you.
It was a quiet, private, and domestic life you both lived–the feeling of a real home, soft and genuine, reverberating through the walls. Everything felt like it was falling back into place after the months of grieving you suffered, Shane right by your side for all of it. So when the world fell apart and forced you both to flee the apartment you had cozied up in for years, you thought it would surely be you and him until the end.
That was until Shane came back from the hospital—a last ditch effort to try and get Rick. Ever since he came back, that glazed over look in his eyes like the night you had first met, something in him changed. Ushering you into the car, throwing your bags into the trunk, he sped down a neighborhood road you were unfamiliar with.
“Where are we going?” you asked nervously, watching most cars speed off in the opposite direction towards the highway.
“Rick’s house,” he said flatly, foot heavy against the pedal. “Got someone we need to get.”
Since that day it was Shane and Lori, attached at the hip. Of course he took Carl under his wing too–leaving no room for you in the nest that was the newfound Walsh-Grimes family. Each day you sat and watched, letting yourself get pushed further and further to the sidelines, while Shane taught Carl how to fish or start a fire. You’d notice the faint sound of zippers late into the night and hushed giggles as he and Lori shuffled off into the woods.
At first you took it personally, like the world was punishing you for something. Once you thought it over more though, you realized that it was no one’s fault but your own for stringing together the lies of a fairytale you were writing in your head. Weeks of the apocalypse gave you lots of time to think, reminisce every moment between you and Shane that you had clung so dearly to. And although you thought all those moments meant something, when he would do those same things with Lori, it seemed like there was a different glint in his eye–one full of wanting and lust, like she was a drug he would die without.
Creating distance between you two wasn’t difficult. Shane took it upon himself to lead the group and any other time he wasn’t barking out orders or trying to bring some normalcy to Carl’s childhood, he was off with Lori. You didn’t know if everyone was just ignoring it, letting their business stay private as long as it wasn’t affecting the group, but this was personal for you. This ran deeper than just unrequited feelings–it was a betrayal of everything you had known for years.
Not only had you grown close to Rick and his family throughout the years of living with Shane–now feeling ultimately betrayed by how quickly his wife seemed to move on–but your relationship with Shane had never seemed to stem from the events of your meeting. Not until now. For the first time since you met, there was a clouded apprehensiveness that ignited each time Shane approached, warning you to keep your distance.
Soon enough, the laughter died down around the campfire as the kids grew tired and Carol shuffled them off to their tents. Most of the men who were drinking had slumped off to bed, groggily sloshing their feet in the dirt as they bid the rest of the group a goodnight. Andrea and Amy usually tucked away early, hiding away in their tent, talking late into the night. That left just Glenn on the top of the RV, keeping watch, and Dale and Jim who kept soft conversation that made the world seem normal for just a moment.
You knew by this point that they could tell something was off, but you didn’t care enough to say anything. Glenn was too shy to ask, head perked up at any sound or rustle in the woods, but as Jim got up with a yawn, you knew Dale would be full of questions if you didn’t get up.
“I think I’m going to head off with you,” you said, hands rested on your knees as you stood up from the log you sat on.
“You sure?” Dale asked, brow furrowed. “Haven’t heard a word from you all night. You sure everything’s alright?”
Nodding, you bid him a tight lipped smile before retreating back towards the tents. Shuffling into your sleeping bag, rocks digging into your spine through the tent, you knew that you’d be sitting here for a while–waiting up until you heard the expected giggles and hushed conversation coming back in from the woods.
When the fire had finally gone out, the dull flame no longer casting shadows into your tent, and at least another hour had passed, you were starting to grow a little concerned. They had never taken the risk of being out this late–especially with Glenn’s skittish fingers behind the trigger tonight. Typically Shane was very by the book, doing what he needed to keep safe–never taking unnecessary risks.
You knew you shouldn’t care. Knew it wasn’t worth the risk of your life, but something within you was screaming, burning your insides until you reached for the zipper of your tent with fumbling fingers. Never had you gone out past the camp without someone by your side–especially not this late.
Shane made sure you kept a weapon on you at all times. It wasn’t a gun, but a large hunting knife stayed permanently strapped to your hip–now shakily grasped in your hands. There was a flashlight in your other hand, flicked on low, pointed at your feet to guide the way. As you got deeper into the trees, leaves crunching beneath your feet, your breath stilled, heart freezing in your chest when you heard hushed whispers in the distance.
Flicking off your flashlight, you peered through the leaves where there was a lantern in the center of a blanket. It was in a small clearing, Lori sat with her head in her hands, Shane stood across from her, arms crossed and back turned. You couldn’t make out what they were saying, but as they flailed their arms, Shane constantly turning himself away to collect his anger, it was clear they were in the middle of an argument.
You wanted to get closer–needed to.
There was some selfish piece of yourself, the part of you that wished you were in Lori’s place, cursing the world for letting temptation fall upon them so fast in the midst of their guilt. They had an unexplainable bond over a man you had only known for a couple years–something that tied them deeper than anything that connected you and Shane.
Or so you thought…
Shane’s promise to your father was an integral part of the man he had become. Before, Shane wanted to be needed, the call to public service somewhat of an ego boost for him. When the harsh reality hit him though, blood staining deep into his slacks as he said those final words, he discovered that greater wanting for something than he had ever felt in his life.
When you held him close that night on the steps like nothing else could have grounded you in that moment, he never felt more important–more needed. That promise opened up a door of responsibility that Shane didn’t know how to handle, something that scared him at first, but after just a few weeks had grown to find comfort in. With you by his side, his duties didn’t just stop the moment the uniform came off. You gave him purpose, some sort of meaning outside of the law–and you appreciated every bit of it.
Cooking him homemade meals, cleaning his apartment, and talking with him into the late hours of the night although you were bearing your own responsibilities and grief–he'd be lying if he said he didn’t fall for you. Your kindness above all is what drew him in, but the way he felt so compelled to care for you, like he’d do it even if there was no promise tying him to you–and how he hadn’t ever felt that way for anyone else.
The day the news of the illness spread, Shane knew he had to fulfill the silent promise he had made to his best friend in the hospital room. He tried so hard to save him–an effort that would never be great enough in his mind and stuck with him each night since. It felt like everything he touched would just vanish, a string of chaos just following him wherever he went. He pushed you away when the group had formed, figuring any hands you fell into would be better than his–calloused and stained with the blood of too many to count. He wanted to do the same thing with Lori and Carl, pass them off as someone else’s responsibility and vanish into the woods one night. But in her grief, Lori attached herself to Shane, the only man left to resemble the one she lost.
And who was he to deny her of that?
Even if it were just temporary. If one day, healed through time, she realized this wasn’t what she wanted and pushed him away–at least he got to heal her pain for a little while. Because it sure felt like it was all his doing, suffering rooted deep into the memories that shook him awake each night.
If he couldn’t keep Rick safe–before or after the end of the world–what made him think he could handle an entire group? Despite how confidently he spoke, Shane felt like he was in over his head. That once Lori had sapped what she needed from him and his purpose was fulfilled, he would leave before he could bring on any more damage.
That wasn’t to say this would be easy for him–that he didn’t care. It just felt like any reasons for wanting to stay were selfish, purely out of his own self-serving purpose, and that if you were actually going to benefit from something–actually survive in this world–he couldn't be a part of it.
All his impulses flew out the window when it came to you. Those tight fists and bitten back insults that he had to tuck away in his professional world were unyielded when it came to defending your honor. It was apart of him, woven into his DNA, the way he was so protective over you. When it was at the usual bar or friendly outing it didn’t seem like much, was never too harmful past the occasional broken nose to a ‘too friendly’ onlooker, but in this new world it was deadly. That attitude of wanting to be your protector, the only one to keep you safe, was selfish and dangerous in this world, and something he couldn’t stop himself from doing with you around.
He had found somewhere safe for you to stay–the rest was for him to figure out.
“I can’t believe you were just going to leave.” As you creeped closer, you caught a sliver of Lori’s hissed out words, venom lacing her tongue. “And then what? What is the group supposed to do without you? What would Carl think?”
At the mention of the boy’s name, Shane’s head snapped over his shoulder, staring daggers into the woman on the ground. If she didn’t know better, hadn’t known the ball of fire that was Shane Walsh, she would have jumped back at the way he came at her so fiercely–fists balled tight with a look of pure rage heaving his chest in sputtered breaths.
“You don’t know nothin’,” he spat, running an impatient hand over his jaw. “Y’all will be safe here. I’m makin’ sure of that-”
“By leaving?”
Rising to her feet now, Lori stood dangerously close to Shane, palms pressing flat to his chest when he took a step. He dipped low, forehead touching hers and voice so menacingly deep you couldn’t make out what he was saying. Whatever he said must’ve been the final straw, Lori pushing him as he pretended to stumble back–give into her force.
With a laugh he staggered back, shaking his head as he dismissed her anger. “Thas enough.” He raised his hands defensively, walking away from the argument. “I’ve made up my mind ‘n there’s no changin’ it.”
You had been so caught up in eavesdropping, the possibility that things between these two weren’t as perfect as they seemed, that you had even forgotten you were practically in plain sight. As he stormed off, heading back for the camp, Shane was mostly looking at his boots–shaking his head and grumbling out curses. Quickly crouching behind a bush, there was a crack of a twig under your foot that Shane no doubt caught onto. His eyes flickered towards you, squinting in the darkness, before seemingly shrugging and heading back towards the camp.
It felt like hours of sitting, crouched uncomfortably behind that bush, trying not to make a sound, before Lori retreated back to camp. She sat in a stubborn silence for a while, taking in the quiet night air and chirping crickets, but after a while of deep thought she began to cry. Soft whimpers turned into full on sobs until there she had no tears left and warily picked up her things as she shuffled back to camp.
After some time, you finally felt confident enough to sneak back into camp without any unwanted eyes–worst case scenario having to tell Glenn you needed to take a leak in the middle of the night.
Although it wasn’t much, just a few snippets of a passing conversation, you desperately tried to piece together the last bits of their argument.
Was Shane actually leaving the group? Did you mishear everything? Maybe he was just leaving her?
Your thoughts spiralled, the words you had overheard getting jumbled into a mess of fact and fiction.
Approaching your tent, there was a slight gap at the bottom where the zipper met the edge–definately not how you had left it. Warily, you unzipped the tent, fear rippling through your chest. It was dark, your flashlight long shut off to not attract attention, and although you couldn’t see anything, it all seemed fine.
A hand, fierce and firm, grasped onto your wrist the second the door was open, pulling you into the tent. Another hand, calloused and scratching into your skin, slapped over your mouth the moment you tried to scream and as you swallowed your terror, a familiar laugh rang in your ears.
Lips brushed the shell of your ear, a voice, gravelly and hot, sent shivers down your spine. “Caught ya,” he whispered, grip loosening only when you eased into his touch.
Heart working overtime and eyes blinking to adjust, you pushed yourself off of Shane’s lap–repeatedly kicking him with your foot as you backed away.
“Not fucking funny, Shane,” you spat, nearly on the verge of tears. “Why the hell would you do that?”
You knew exactly why he had done that.
Not only had he most likely caught you snooping on his conversation, but you had dared to go out that late alone. Either one of those things and Shane would be furious–doing both in one night was just asking for trouble.
“Showin’ you how lucky y’are that it was me in this tent ‘n not some walker tryna eat your face off.” He was seething, voice crackling with the rage he tried to bite back. “The hell were y’doin’ out there? ‘N don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”
Flicking on his flashlight, dimming the beam under one of your blankets, it was clear just how angry he was. His lips were drawn tight, veins pulsing with his heartbeat as he tried to set aside his pride. The fear on your face was obvious. He wanted to make a point and he had clearly done that a little too well–had forgotten who he was dealing with.
You had confided in him about the night of the attack multiple times–the long lasting grip it still had on you. Trying to put up a strong front, you faced your fears, walked into uncomfortable situations–it was always easier with Shane beside you. He found it admirable, the way you’d tuck away that fear, being a first-hand witness as your eyes dimmed and shoulders tensed–knowing if anything went wrong he’d be right there.
Now he was the cause of your fear.
Shuddering in the corner of the tent, you tried to push him back, front your fear as anger–but he knew you better than that.
“Shit-” he hissed, lowering his tone, hunching his shoulders–anything to make him seem less intimidating. “I shouldn’t have-” His confidence was slipping by the second, all that built up anger from his argument fizzling the second he set eyes on you. “M’sorry. M’real sorry, c’mere.”
He saw the reluctance in your eyes, that tense flicker of hesitation–it broke him. Sitting there, waiting for your touch, made him realize how long it had been since he’d felt it, and how much he’d been craving it.
“Are you really leaving?”
You didn’t move, stood your ground, while you saw Shane recess into himself. He hadn’t expected the question–quite honestly hoping you hadn’t heard any of his conversation with Lori.
Now he was unsure. Unsure of what you had heard, what you knew, and what you felt.
Shaking his head, he immediately went to lie, just how he had done with Lori. But this was different–this was you.
“I-” shakily, he exhaled, his breathing alone enough to give away the truth, “was thinkin’ about it,” he confessed finally.
There were tears, silent and persistent, flowing down your face until they stuck to your chin. Shane tried to reach over, wipe them for you, but you brushed off his hand, sending him an unwelcoming glare.
“Why now?”
“Huh?”
The question had truly taken him aback. He more expected to be met with fists pounding against his chest, maybe a slap to the face, but you were surprisingly calm–scarily calm.
“After all these years, taking care of me and making me feel like it meant something,” your mouth was moving faster than your mind, confessing everything you had kept bottled up. “Why leave now? At least take her with you too–your new little project.”
Shane stared, jaw dropped, trying to comprehend the emotion behind what you were saying. Was it jealousy? Anger? Sadness? A mix of all three?
The thought of it being the first one made his heart jump–his selfish desires prickling at his skin.
“Little project?” he scoffed, the idea absurd. “I’m takin’ care of a woman who lost her husband–my best friend. You think I wanna be in charge of all these people? Someone’s gotta do it ‘n-”
“Yeah,” you sneered, arms crossed tightly. “Someone’s gotta fuck Lori since Rick’s not here to do it.”
That was a particularly low blow, even for you, having known Rick for ;so many years. Still, that bubbling rage was beginning to slowly boil over and there was no stopping now.
“Thas what this s’about?”
Something about that realization shifted something in him, like the chains he had shackled himself down with, preventing himself from ever giving into his feelings for you, shattered around his wrists.
“Look-” he started, trying to pick his words carefully. “I made a promise to Rick, same as the one to your dad, that I’d take care-”
“What?” It was your turn to be confused now, the confession falling so casually from Shane’s lips. “What promise?”
Furrowing his eyebrows, Shane squinted at you, so sure that he had told you this before.
“Before he passed…” Shane was treading lightly, hoping you’d remember before he had to retell the story. “He made me promise to take care of you. Was right after-”
“You never told me this.” You cut him short, that tone like he was being inconvenienced at having to repeat this to you, digging deep beneath your skin. “Why did you never tell me this? Is this what this has been this whole time? Some promise– some sort of agreement?”
“No!” He quickly lowered his voice the moment he noticed himself shouting. “No- I jus’ thought I had told ya. S’important, I know, ‘n I really did think I told ya- but thas not ever what this was.” Fumbling for words, his tone was raw, earnest, as he tried to get your trust back. “Wouldn’t’ve lived with ya this long if I didn’t love you, it was always more than jus’ a promise.”
The confession rolled so seamlessly off his lips, the words so true to him that he hadn’t even noticed he had even said them.
But you most certainly did.
“You love me?”
Backtracking, Shane tried to pick apart his words, find where in the jumbled mess of his mind he could have possibly let that slip–but it was already too late. Nodding hesitantly, he was prepared to face rejection–his getaway car already stocked and ready.
“Always have.” He didn’t look at you, just picked the skin on his knuckles while he waited for you to laugh at him.
Instead, he was met with a thump to the head, and then the shoulder, and then his back. The more he tried to dodge the blows, the harder they became, until he was wriggling on the ground of the tent while you flung punches at him.
“You can’t just say you’re in love with me while sleeping with another woman.”
The words that came out of your mouth seemed obvious–something he would have considered if he ever thought he actually had a chance with you. Now, with the curtains being pulled back, the truth of what had really been simmering in your shared apartment all these years, posed a wall of guilt.
“Ain’t gonna lie to ya,” he shrugged as if this confession was tearing the skin from his bones. “Not like I could anyway. Jus’ never thought you’d love me back.”
You rolled your eyes, that original anger still keeping the distance between you two. “Course I love you, Shane. No one else would do the things you do for me–for this entire group.”
Neither of you knew what to say, the flashlight humming a low static while your thoughts lingered in the tense air.
“Please stay,” you continued. “We need you–I need you.”
There was no question about it now. Shane nodded his head so fast it might’ve snapped off his neck, reaching his arms out to pull you closer. He didn’t care if you protested, your weak squirming nothing for him as he held you to his chest.
“Ain’t goin’ nowhere. Not now that I have you.”
a special thanks to my taglist ♡ @death-in-a-tar0t-card (message me to be added or removed)
