#shane walsh smut
Text
Best Served Cold
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.
Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓
Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.
A lot.
You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.
Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.
Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.
The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.
The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.
“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.
You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.
A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.
You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.
You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.
Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.
“Ya done pissin’ or what?”
You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.
You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.
“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.
At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?
You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.
“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”
Ah.
At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.
So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.
Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.
In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.
“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.
You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.
When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.
Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.
“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.
Daryl managed a curt nod.
Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”
You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.
“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.
Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.
You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.
Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.
He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.
“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.
He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.
“I was jus—” Daryl started.
“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”
You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.
But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.
Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.
The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.
You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.
“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.
You almost choked on your spit.
“What?”
“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”
You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.
“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.
“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.
If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.
“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”
And Shane was community dick. Made sense.
You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.
“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.
Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.
“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.
You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.
“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”
“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.
“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.
“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.
You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.
“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”
You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.
“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.
In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.
“Shane, I don’t wanna—”
“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.
“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.
When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.
The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.
“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.
You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.
Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.
“Y/N!” he bellowed.
In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.
You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.
Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.
Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.
Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.
At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.
You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.
“Dar— oh!”
Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.
“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.
“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.
“Told him no,” you murmured back.
You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.
“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.
“Don’t. Please,” you said.
“Did he—”
“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”
“Oh.”
Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.
You felt aroused.
Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.
You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.
“You think maybe—” you started.
“Yeah?”
“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”
Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.
“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.
“Just…jerking off to you.”
He never had been any good at a bluff.
Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.
“Yeah? What about?”
Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.
“I…well…”
“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”
Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.
“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.
You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.
He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.
You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.
You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer’s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.
You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.
“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.
“Daryl!”
“Daryl?”
Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.
Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,
“Yeah?”
“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”
Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.
Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.
“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.
“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”
You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.
You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.
Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.
“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.
“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”
‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.
“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.
He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.
You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.
Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.
“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.
Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.
That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.
But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.
“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.
“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”
You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.
And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—
“Eat shit, Walsh.”
“Just help me out. Please.”
Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.
With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.
A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.
You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.
Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.
When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon one shot#daryl dixon imagine#daryl x reader#the walking dead#twd daryl#twd fanfiction#twd imagine#smut#shane walsh#shane walsh smut
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Wellllllll…… I just read one Rec from someone and holy. Stepdad Rick isn’t my thing but still hot. I was thinking what if it was Shane instead. Or Daryl. Sneaking around behind Rick’s back. But ugh, Rick is so hot tho. Decisions decisions. More like Dad’s best friend maybe?
now that’s hot as hell. Idk who Dad would be but best friend trope could work for any combination possible I would think… (all of them!? 🙈 short of a orgy, I can’t see either Dixon putting up with Shane even for something like that but hey)
been thinking about this every hour since it appeared in my inbox… (Shane is my guilty pleasure fr. would let him do disgusting things to me)
I think I’m seeing your vision… lemme know what you think💗
PICK YOUR POISON
(Rick & Shane & Daryl x fem!reader)
warnings- 18+, smut, alcohol consumption, smoking, references of sex, multiple partners, the boys are kinda pervs but it’s ok cause ur legal and this is fiction <3 2.1k word count
You open the door to the garage and make your way down the stairs. Not even bothering to slip any shoes on. Your mom keeps the epoxy floors absolutely pristine, so there’s really no reason. Plus, your toenail polish is still a little tacky. Bright, bubble gum pink polish and a silver toe ring adorning your foot. The smell of liquor and smoke has filled the garage. Accompanied by the deep, rugged voices and dry laughs coming from your fathers closest friends.
“You know mom hates it when you smoke in the house.” You say all matter of fact, leaning up against the bar-tops, marble counter. You can feel your tank top strap slipping down your shoulder. But the animalistic looks coming from your dads three closest friends, force you to let it drop. To let them see.
Your father puts his cigarette out in the ash tray on the bar. Rolling his eyes at you. “Well good thing we’re in the garage then.”
You ignore his attitude.
“Mom needs you.”
“For what?”
“To drop her off at Cindy’s.”
He seems irritated. But all five of you can hear the rain. There’s no way any half decent husband should let his wife walk to her monthly book club meeting in this weather.
“Just- keep your mouth shut about the smokes. And grab everyone another drink. Make sure they don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.” You father jokes, ruffling up Daryl’s hair on his way to the door, grabbing his jacket and keys.
You wave an innocent goodbye as you watch him through the garage door windows, backing out of the driveway. Your mother in the passenger seat, smiling sweetly at you.
“Well… whatcha drinkin’?” You ask Rick, who’s sat in the middle. Glass empty, with a lone, melting ice cube clinking around in the bottom.
“Rum and coke.” He answers, licking his lips.
“Spiced?” You ask. A flirty smile playing on your face as you bite your bottom lip.
They’re all staring. Jaws clenched and breathing slowly.
You know what you’re doing. You can tell by the way they’re all looking at you. You can practically see the wheels turning in their brains.
They shouldn’t be thinking this way about their friends daughter. About their best friends little girl. Well… not so little anymore. You’d just turned 21. Hell, they were at the party. Giving you the exact same looks they’re giving you right now.
The ones they definitely shouldn’t be.
But they are.
They’re thinking about your thin, frilly, pyjama shorts, and how they can see the purple g string pulled up over your hips. How they can see your belly ring through the fabric of your tank top, and imagining what it would feel like against their lips as they kiss their way down your stomach. And you know they’re thinking about bending you over the bar counter and taking turns at fucking you until they hear the sound of your dads diesel pulling into the driveway. How you’d have to play pretend for your father, ignoring the fact that your panties are soaking through with three different men’s cum, and maybe even a mix of your own. The salty liquids threatening to drip down your inner thigh as you politely excuse yourself from the garage. Coming up with any bullshit excuse to go lay on your bed and rub your clit until you’re seeing stars. Imagining each of their faces in between your legs, spreading you open and eating you up.
You know they’re thinking it, because you are too. It’s the only thing you can think about in this moment, while pouring Rick a double spiced rum and coke. Taking a sip and then handing it him. Making sure your fingers touch.
When you turn to ask Shane what he wants, he gets up. Insisting that you won’t know how to make an old fashioned. You only just turned 21 after all. You probably haven’t even had one before.
But he’s wrong. They’re your dads favourite and you’d been making them for him since you were 16. But you didn’t tell Shane that. Instead you let him walk around the bar, come up behind you and press himself against your back. Letting a tiny gasp escape at the feeling of his, very hard, cock pressing into your bum. Pushing you even further against the counter. His chest is warm against you. And his hands are big and calloused as he guides your own, pouring the perfect amount of bitters, simple syrup and bourbon over a huge, king sized ice cube that he’d retrieved from the freezer.
Finally, taking a slice of orange, meticulously cut up and organized in little containers on the bar top. It was something your mother was always very fond of; organizing the liquors and the garnishes, ensuring that your father could host a proper poker night or barbecue. Or whatever the fuck they stayed up all night doing in their little man cave. Not knowing that you were upstairs, awake and playing with your favourite vibrator, listening to their rock music through your bedroom floor.
“And then you twist it, like this…” Shane’s lips are actually brushing your ear. And you don’t mean to, but your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. His free hand moves to your waist as he tosses the orange peel in the drink, lifting it up and bringing the cold glass to your lips.
“Try it.” He says. And though you can’t see him because he’s still behind you, you can hear the smirk in his voice.
You take a sip. A small one. Immediately scrunching your face at the two men still sitting across you. Their lips curl into an amused smile as they watch you swallow the amber liquid.
“Not my favourite.” You whisper as Shane leans back. Only for a second before he’s turned you around and trapped you once more, back to the bar this time.
“Well we did forget one thing,” He says, reaching over to a jar on the counter. Maraschino cherries. Your favourite.
“And I know how much you like these.” He teases, referring to all the cherries he caught you adding to your piña coladas at a neighbors pool party only a couple weeks ago.
He dips a single cherry in the drink. Taking it by the stem and lifting it to your mouth. You don’t hesitate in wrapping your lips around it. The bitter taste of the bourbon on the fruit doesn’t last long. A sweet, sugary syrup bleeds over your tastebuds as you bite into the cherry. And a moan manages to escape your throat. It’s quiet. You think maybe it was subtle enough to go unnoticed. But the smile on Shane’s lips and the dry laugh coming from behind you, tell you that it didn’t.
Shane is still pushed up against you, cock strained in his jeans and pressed right against your stomach. His hand gripping your hip and forcing you to stay against the counter. And the way he’s looking down at you. Fuck, the way they’re all looking at you. Watching you start to squirm under their gaze.
“It’s good.” You swallow. Trying to maintain a confident, big girl attitude. But truthfully, you just want them to peel your clothes off, and let you melt into their arms as you cum all over their cocks.
“Daryl’s drink is still empty, sweetheart.” Rick’s gravelly voice pulls you back.
“Right.”
Shane gives your hip one last squeeze before he walks back to his barstool. Next to Rick. They cheers quietly and sip on their drinks. Watching intently as you try to compose yourself.
“What’s your poison?” You turn to the last man, lighting what was probably his second or third cigarette of the night. Glancing up at you and taking a draw. Slowly inhaling and exhaling. And though your mother was not a fan, you fucking loved it. You wanted to crawl onto his lap and have him blow the smoke right between your lips as you rode his cock, letting the other two men watch and touch themselves to the sight of you getting off on another guy.
But you didn’t.
“Just a beer, sunshine.” He pushes his empty glass forward for you. You grab it and put it in the dishwasher. Grabbing a brand new, frosted mug from the freezer.
“Which one?”
“Bud’s fine.”
You grab a bottle and skillfully pour it into the mug, coming around the bar this time to hand it to him. Intentionally placing yourself between him and Rick, reaching over and setting the glass in front of him.
To no one’s surprise, you feel a warm hand on the small of your back. Rick’s fingers tracing dangerously close to the thin band of your panties.
“Those are really bad for you, y’know.”
You get bold again. Stepping onto the foot rest of Rick’s barstool, and taking a seat right on his lap. The hand on your back only helping guide you on to him. Quickly finding its way around your waist as you make yourself comfortable.
Daryl only grunts. Hiding a smile at your silly comment. He’d seen you smoke. Hell, he’d snuck out of multiple dinner parties to have one with you.
“You gonna share?” You ask.
Hesitantly he hands it over, and you take it with two fingers. Taking a long drag in and then turning to face Rick again, before you slowly exhale. Trying to focus the smoke onto his lips more than anything.
“What the hell would your father think if he could see you right now?” Shane asks, leaning back in his chair and palming the hard on, still evident in his jeans.
“Think he’d probably try and beat you’re asses.” You say. And while you’re answering Shane, your focus is solely on Rick. The scruff on his face. His bright blue eyes, taunting you and begging you to lean in. Just an inch closer so that he can catch your lips.
“Think he’d win?” Rick asks, glancing down at your own lips.
“Not a chance.” You smile.
He closes the space between you, and you taste rum on the tongue that traces yours. Rick’s hand going to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as you blindly try to put the cigarette out on the ashtray. You start to move. Trying to maneuver your position so that you’d have a leg on either side of him, straddling his very apparent bulge. But right as you start to moan against his mouth, you hear the truck pull up and park. Practically jumping off of Rick and standing in between him and Daryl’s barstools. Fixing your hair as the heat rises to your cheeks. The men chuckle at your flustered appearance. Waiting for their friend to enter through the side door of the garage.
“Hi dad.” You say, smiling politely and pulling your tank top down to cover the strip of skin visible where it had previously rode up.
“Hey, hun. Glad to see they weren’t too much trouble for ya.” You father aproaches and slaps a hand on Shane’s back. Sitting down next to him and grabbing the pack of smokes from his jacket pocket.
“Y’wannanother drink, daddy?” You ask. Daryl clears his throat. And you see Ricks eyes go wide as Shane tries to hide his smile.
“Please. Old fashioned, darling. Y’want some of that pink stuff we found last week? Bubbly… something or other. It’s in the fridge.”
You watch Shane the whole time that you make the old fashioned. Clearly showing him that you knew exactly how your dad liked it. Carefully placing the cocktail on the counter in front of them.
“Thanks doll.” Your dad says, continuing to smoke his cigarette. Reaching over the counter and handing one to Rick who lights it. Watching you the whole time. Tendrils of smoke, floating up to the ceiling of the garage. You turn around. Bending over and being sure to stay searching for the bottle of rosé about thirty seconds longer than you really needed to. You pour a glass as the men discuss what the next move was. What they should do for the night. Considering it’s still a work night, and they all have a supply run pretty early in the morning.
“You wanna play some cards, sweetie?” Your dad asks. You scrunch your nose at him, taking a nice long sip of your sparkling wine.
“What? You got somewhere better to be?” Shane teases.
You huff a semi-annoyed breath, looking around for a spare stool. Even though you already knew there were only 4. Ricks eyes glimmer as he pats his left thigh, inviting you back on.
To your surprise, your dad pays you no mind, already starting to shuffle the deck of cards as you hesitantly take your seat back on top of Rick. Loving the way his hand curls around your thighs and tugs you even further on top of him. And the the way that Shane looks a little jealous that he hadn’t offered first. And you’re especially loving the way Daryl shifts on his stool just the tiniest bit closer, so that his leg grazes yours every now and then.
“All right, here’s the rules…” You hear your dad starts to explain, already dealing you each some cards. But you don’t hear him. You don’t even look in his direction. You’re way too focused on the taste of Rick that lingers on your lips, and the way your clit is actually fucking pulsing. Begging for attention. And truthfully, your mind can’t help but wander, thinking about what might have happened if your dad had taken any longer to get back home.
part 2
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(I’m picturing readers dad as Tobin in Alexandria. Someone like that at least. With a Carol-esque mother. But picture whoever you’d like! Just thought I’d share what I was kinda thinking…)
taglist - @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker
#rick grimes#rick grimes smut#rick grimes fanfiction#rick grimes x y/n#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x y/n#shane walsh x you#shane walsh x reader#shane walsh smut#shane walsh fanfiction#smut#rickyl smut#rickyl x reader#dbf!rick#dbf!daryl#dbf!shane#dads best friend trope#pick your poison
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Shane x Greene Farmer Girl
"You're such a good girl for me, sweetheart. Go back to your daddy's farm and don't tell him about our little secret in his barn."
#moodboard#twd moodboard#twd aesthetic#the walking dead shane#twd shane#shane walsh#shane walsh x reader#shane walsh moodboard#twd shane moodboard#the walking dead moodboard#jon bernthal#jon bernthal moodboard#shane walsh smut
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I CAN FIX HIM
#twd#the walking dead#twd shane#shane walsh smut#shane walsh#negan smith#twd negan#the walking dead negan#negan x reader#shane walsh x reader
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Bartering 101
Dark!Shane Walsh x F!Reader
Summary: Shane drives a hard bargain.
Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Dub-Con, BJ, Sexual Coercion, Degradation, Pet Names.
Word Count: 807
— Read below or at AO3.
A/N: Following AO3's tagging system – I chose not to use certain warnings to avoid spoilers. By clicking 'keep reading' you accept that you're aware of the mature and possibly triggering nature of those themes.
Shane Walsh is an asshole. That’s a fact. You were warned before knocking on his door, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
You needed to use a radio, and Eugene's was completely on the fritz. So the only alternative was to barter with the ruthless scavenger in the compound who had the only working radio that wouldn’t be intercepted by The Commonwealth.
“Save those for another time, sweetheart,” he waved off the ammo box you brought, rubbed a palm on his buzzed head before throwing back a glass of bourbon.
“But Dixon said-”
“Don't care about what Dixon said,” after placing the glass down on the table, he rolled the sleeves of his shirt. “My radio, my rules.”
“What do you want then?”
His lips curled into a vicious smile while his hands moved to unbuckle his belt, “your mouth.”
“That's ridiculous, Walsh. That wasn't the deal.”
“Like I said, my radio, my rules. Tell me, sweetheart, how bad do you need to use it?”
“Not that badly,” you scoffed, throwing the ammo back into your bag.
“Are you sure?” He sauntered in your direction with his fly half undone, forcing you to back up until your back touched the wall.
His hands braced the wall on either side of your head, caging you, as you gulped down the lump lodged in your throat and let the bag in your hand thud on the floor.
He licked his like lips, tilted his head to the side while you took a moment to consider whether it was worth it to accept his disgusting offer. The truth was that you really needed to make contact with your friends that traveled outside the walls. You had information that could save their lives, and couldn't leave his fucking apartment without using the damn radio.
For a second, you entertained the idea of picking up the knife in your belt, shoving it in his neck and letting him bleed out before dragging him out to the woods at night. But Shane Walsh didn’t mess around. No matter how skilled you thought you were, he had the upper hand and wouldn’t hesitate on crushing you like a bug before you could draw your blade.
“I work at the hospital, I could get you pills. The good kind.” You tried one more time.
“Uh-uh, I already have my eyes on something else,” He cupped your chin using his thumb to tug on our lower lip. “C’mon, I’ll make it quick, sweetheart. I promise.”
Swallowing your pride, you let your back slide along the wall until you were down on your knees.
“Attagirl. I knew you couldn't say no to a cock with lips like those.”
“Go to hell,” you gritted between teeth as he whipped out his half hard erection in front of your face and waved it like a flag.
“Already there,” Shane scoffed, pumping his hardness a couple of times before haphazardly shoving it into your mouth without a warning.
His bulbous head was already wet when it pried your lips open. It immediately made you sick to your stomach when it touched the plane of your tongue.
You had to remind yourself that it was for a greater good to keep your jaw slacked instead of biting his thing off.
“Hey! Make a fucking effort here, or there'll be no radio,” he scolded, grabbing harshly on your chin.
You inhaled deeply, wrapped your lips tighter around him, and bobbed your head for his pleasure. He grew firmer as you did, and you tried not to gag when his head grazed the back of your throat.
“That's it. That's the stuff,” he lewdly grunted, looking down on you, pushing his fingers in the hollow of your cheeks. “Good God, look at you. You're such a little whore.”
Admittedly, being degraded in the right situations always turned you on. In a case like this, you hoped it wouldn't happen. You tried your best to keep your composure, but for whatever fucking reason your body wasn’t immune to his power play, and soon you started feeling that tingle that brought some wetness between your legs.
You hated that.
Digging your nails on your thighs, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried not to focus on your own arousal but his. You could tell how much he loved it by the lascivious taunts, and those swollen, throbbing veins that pulsed hard between your lips.
“Oh, Jesus Christ! Keep your head still, sweetheart, I wanna fuck your mouth now,” he gripped at your hair, and kept the back of your head pressed against the wall as his hips started pushing relentlessly into your mouth as deep they could. That time made you gag. He didn’t care, he kept going. Forced his load deep in your throat and didn’t pull back until you swallowed every drop.
#shane walsh x reader#shane walsh#twd fanfiction#shane walsh smut#jon bernthal#jon bernthal smut#fanfiction#smut#darlingwrites#dark!shane#kinktober#my one and only contribution to kinktober#😅
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“good fucking girl.”
is definitely not something rick should be saying to his best friend’s girlfriend - especially not with his cock halfway down her throat.
the moment shane had stepped out for a run with glenn and michonne, you and rick were all over each other. you couldn’t handle sneaking into rick’s bed down the hall anymore. you were bound to end up in his lap on the sectional, pawing at him like a bitch in heat.
it’s not that shane didn’t fuck you; he took every chance he got. you’re just enamored with rick. ever since your boyfriend had “shared” you with his fellow officer, rick had been on your mind.
the way his brown constable’s jacket fit against his muscles when they flexed. the glint of his chocolate curls. how good he is with judith.
rick gets you goin’ in a way shane hasn’t for quite some time. he was right when he got you down on your knees back at the rest stop. you did look at rick like you wanted to drain him and then have him bend you over and fuck you silly - and that’s what ended up happening.
ever since that day, shane got off on toying with you and having you sit on rick’s cock in addition to his own. he uttered excuses about the stresses of their new duties as constable but you just slid down your denim skort and squealed the occasion away.
you’re quiet now, nice and muffled on rick’s dick as you swallow around him. the motion has him twitching in your mouth. wanting to finish off inside of you for the night, the thick length in your mouth is withdrawing and suddenly you’re in that familiar face down position again.
“so wet, baby,” rick remarks in awe as his length brushes your slippery entrance.
you’re squeezing your thighs together - trapping him between the pillowy soft surfaces. “rick,” you cry. “c’mon, already.”
“what’d we say?”
you swallow, a tear from how needy you are sliding down your cheek. “please, sir.”
you could care less if shane walked in right now. as long as rick keeps driving his hips into yours and breathing your name like a prayer, you’ll be content. content to get fucked silly by the man before he takes you in his arms and spends the night with a hand on your waist and his nose buried in your hair.
that’s after though.
now, you’re being nearly fucked up the couch.
rick’s just enjoying the way your sweet little cunt grips him like it needs him. the little thing sucks him in even better than your mouth.
and you’re a whole other story. sweat sticking to your glistening forehead, you’re babbling incoherent thoughts, strung out on the cock molding you to his shape.
your slick is pooling around rick like he’s in the fucking atlantic. so close to losing it all over him already, you’re making an absolute mess of the couch that you’ll have to resolve before shane gets home. don’t want him suffering from any fear of missing out.
the man is swept from your mind when rick absolutely crams his cock inside of your clinging cunt. the kiss to your cervix is enough for you to start seeing spots around the older man making you take his cock so well.
every time you park your pussy on rick’s thick dick and come, you ground down, grasp his hand, do anything to get as close as possible. feeling him to skin to skin is second only to feeling him fill you up. the filthy praises coming from his lips come close as well.
“fuck, baby, so nice and tight. you want me to come inside you, huh? have shane come home to this pussy all messy?”
you’re shaking your head like you have any idea what you’re asking for. “yes, rick! i want you to make a mess of my pussy.”
“then come all over this cock, honey.”
“mhmm, rick, i-,”
“that’s it.”
“i love how deep you are, rick-,” you’re bumbling like an idiot and muttering a string of “i love you”s as the dam bursts and you come undone on rick’s cock.
the pulsing warmth beneath you is accompanied by a husky, “i love you too,” and a chorus of your name into your shoulder as rick used his horsecock to fuck you two through your climaxes.
the friction on your clit heightens the heat surrounding you and flooding into you from rick. you’re almost overwhelmed by the bruising kisses rick purples onto your neck as he gathers you on top of him.
“you did so good, honey,” he’s praising you and you’re just nodding, humming, “thank you”s and “i know”s until he’s bear hugging you again. the way he nuzzles into your neck from behind and exhales into your hair is enough for you to forget trudging up to bed and drift off into rick’s touch right there.
you’re already asleep in his arms but he takes the time to stroke your hair and kiss up and down your temples. god, he loves getting this time with you to himself - even if you’re asleep.
with you pressed against him and your heartbeat thrumming, the world is still and rick realizes something - he’s never letting you go.
#the walking dead#rick grimes#shane walsh#rick grimes x reader#shane walsh x reader#rick grimes smut#shane walsh smut#twd#twd smut#twd imagine#twd rick#rick grimes imagine#rick x reader#shane walsh imagine#jon bernthal#andrew lincoln#not beta read#blowy#p in v sex#the pt 2 no one asked for#ditzy thought fr#angst#I had so much fun writing this#the best fics are spontaneous#grimesgirll
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Shane Walsh Relationship Headcanons
Please do not copy or steal any of my posts! I’d appreciate a reblog, like, or follow just to help my page grow btw<3
Pairing: Shane Walsh x Fem!Reader
Content: fluff & smut Headcanons
Requests are open!
✰ Unsurprisingly, Shane isn’t really a touchy guy but he lovesss holding you tightly when you sleep.
✰ He’s also obsessed with going up behind you randomly, slipping his arms loosely around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
✰ Unlike his usual stuck up demeanor and snappy remarks, he’s the complete opposite with you.
✰ Now don’t get me wrong, he can be like that with you at times but when he is, he’s just playing.
✰ He loves to show you off in front of everyone.
✰ Literally EVERYONE.
✰ He’ll be walking with you anywhere you go with an arm over your shoulder and have a look on his face like a proud dad or something.
✰ “You know that huge herd of walkers we fought off…” he’d randomly say to the group as he walks up behind you, “yeah that was mostly my girl here.” He’d have a cheeky grin as he says this.
✰ If you anger easily or get annoyed by little things, he finds it so cute seeing you all upset and grumpy.
✰ “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He’d ask with a small smirk as he walks over to you, “aww, need some lovin’?” He gives a soft kiss to your cheek.
✰ This is instantly changes your mood as you start to blush and try to laugh it off.
✰ Ahhh ok so back before the apocalypse happened and you were just doing you doing whatever in your home, Shane would come back from a long day at work in his little sherif outfit with literally anything for you.
✰ I’m talking about every. Single. Day. He always had something different brought home to you.
✰ IT’S THE CUTEST THING EVER OMGGG!!!
~NSFW~
✰ Shane overstimulates the hell out of you.
✰ It drives him crazy seeing you whine and fall apart under him.
✰ He’ll have a tight grip on your hair as he pounds harshly into you, making you scream his name for everyone to hear.
✰ This man. THIS MAN. Is in love with your tits.
✰ He’s always grabbing, sucking, licking, literally doing everything to them.
✰ The way they bounce when he thrusts into you over and over again, omggg he goes crazy over that.
✰ Loves praising you.
✰ “Good girrrll.” He’d growl in your ear. “Yeah, look at you, taking it all so well for me.”
✰ “Yeah? Feel good sweetheart?” He’d ask and you could only moan in response.
✰ Being in control is mainly his thing, but God the way you look bouncing on his dick makes him melt.
✰ Your head thrown back as loud moans escape your lips, your tits bouncing, fuck he can’t help but grab your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he pounds up into you.
#twd shane#shane walsh x reader#shane walsh x you#twd x reader#headcanon#shane walsh#jon bernthal#jon bernthal x reader#fluff#smut#twd smut#shane walsh smut#the walking dead
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🦋🫦
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I’m a Good Girl, Officer!
Pairing: Reader x Detective Dixon x Officer Grimes x Officer Walsh
Summary: Apparently flashing your tits to truckers on the freeway is frowned upon in small towns like yours. When three familiar King County cops take charge of the case, you learn they punish bad girls a little differently.
Warnings: NSFW. Foursome! :-) Unprotected p-in-v, spitroast, double penetration, overstimulation, praise and degradation, bimbofication, throatfucking, painal, breeding kink, using c*m as lube, and a (consensual) strugglefuck. Elements of dubcon à la power imbalance and coercion. Age gap. Public indecency, evading arrest, assault on two cops, and general drunken stupidity.
“Goooooood morning, babycakes!”
Your best friend rolled the hem of her shirt over her chest and shimmied her shoulders at the big white semi truck about to pass under the bridge. The stranger at the wheel took one look at the woman’s tits and almost swerved across two lanes of traffic. The sight sent you and your drunken group howling with laughter, falling onto the ground as Maggie yanked her top back down.
It was five a.m. and freezing. The club where you’d been boozing all night had long since shuttered closed, and you and your closest friends from high school—home for the holidays and happily plastered—had gone wandering home in a daze. When one of the girls had stopped suddenly at the midsection of a bridge, you hadn’t been able to keep from sharing her smile the second she’d grinned and said, ‘For old time’s sake?’
In no time at all, you’d been lined up along the metal railing and ogling the unsuspecting drivers down below. The freeway was mostly empty at this hour, save for a couple tractor trailers and early morning commuters, but that didn’t matter.
Rosita was up next. You watched her eye an RV as it bumbled down the road and saw her take hold of her shirt just like Maggie had. Then, right when the camper got close enough, the brunette bent slightly at the waist, flipped her top up, and screamed at the top of her lungs:
“HEY BIG RED!”
A big, buff dude with a bright red handlebar mustache looked up from the passenger seat, as did the white-haired, bearded gentleman wearing a bucket hat beside him. The pair then watched your friend’s roadside spectacle with shared looks of wonder and awe, before passing under the bridge as slow as they possibly could. Rosita staggered off the ledge and reached for the flask in your hand, heedless of her breasts still hanging out.
“Your turn,” she chirped before taking a swig.
Your feet were already wobbling onto the concrete slab. From your vantage point, the outline of the sun was just then breaking out across the tops of the trees, casting the morning’s first rays across your bare skin. You stretched your arms out wide, Titanic-style, and basked in the warmth—likely looking drunk as all hell as you did.
“Ooo, this one, this one!” Maggie cut in presently.
You followed your friend’s gaze and caught sight of a sleek, glistening firetruck speeding down the road.
Perfect, you thought as your eyes soaked in the sight. You pictured the truck packed to the gills with hot and sweaty firemen inside, and your fingers itched at the bottom of your shirt. Curled under the fabric and ready to lift as soon as the time came. Even from a distance, you could make out a tiny cluster of uniformed men at the helm, each of their faces contorted with curiosity.
The truck sped up and drew closer. Maggie squeezed your hip, Rosita chewed her lip, and together, you all stared the firetruck down with bated breath until it was just about to go under the bridge.
In a blink, you flipped your shirt up and shook your tits back and forth for the men going by. Much to your surprise, the firefighter in the driver’s seat honked his horn a couple times, and another one, at the rear, stuck his grinning head out the window and waved.
You, Maggie, and Rosita waved right back, practically falling over each other in fits of laughter as you yelled,
“Call me, daddy!”
The three of you collapsed on the sidewalk in a heap of shitfaced hysterics. Rosita flung your flask to the side and smacked you playfully across your boobs—still out and proud and likely able to cut diamonds with how hard your nipples had gotten in the chilly morning air.
“Daddy?!” she wheezed, “You skank!”
You straightened up, partially splayed across Maggie’s lap, and wiggled your shoulders once more, feigning that high-pitched, ditzy voice you used whenever you were hammered,
“Daddy please fuck my titties, I’ve been such a bad girl!”
Then you gave the best porn star moan you could muster and started to pull your shirt the rest of the way off. Not thinking, you balled up the light pink fabric and threw it up in the air while Rosita cheered—‘Tits out for the girls!’—and Maggie almost pissed herself laughing. Really anything would’ve had your sides fit to split at this point, seeing how faded and adrenaline-drunk you were.
You reached up and waited for the top to fall back into your hand...until it didn’t. You cast a sweeping look across the three of you to see if your shirt had landed somewhere else, but the garment was nowhere in sight.
You turned and craned your neck to see over the railing.
“Shit!”
You scrambled to your feet and gripped the metal siding of the bridge, tits fully out and exposed to the world. You watched as an old Ford Ranger picked up speed and crushed the scrap of fabric under its tires, before the driver, in turn, gawked and honked his horn like a fool.
Just as you started to turn back to tell your friends the bad news—and beg them for a piece of spare clothing to cover you—a sound startled you all.
The short, sharp yelp of a siren straight ahead.
Your hands flew to cover your chest while Maggie and Rosita went floundering over each other trying to get up. A few yards away, a police cruiser had pulled up to the side of the bridge with its lights flashing bright red and blue.
Shit, again, seemed to be the resounding sentiment among you three as the car started inching closer.
“Stop right there!” a voice boomed over the PA system.
That only prompted your group to take off running.
You, cradling your tits in both hands, and Rosita and Maggie trying desperately not to trip over the curb, the wayside trash, or each other as they raced down the street.
Two car doors flew open. Then, the sound of that same voice, breaking out across the still morning air without the aid of the intercom and telling you to freeze right now, followed by the sound of footsteps. Boots thudded heavy on the ground below, moving fast and with purpose. Both pairs easily gained on your three retreating forms in a matter of seconds.
Maggie and Rosita were already leaps and bounds ahead of you. Too busy juggling your tits and struggling to breathe, you felt your heart sink.
Rosita shot a look over her shoulder and cried, ‘C’mon!’ as she eyed the cops coming closer.
I’m trying, you wanted to say, but couldn’t speak. Your chest was too tight, pupils blown wide with fear.
This was not the fucking time to be having a panic attack. But here you were.
Before you could stop yourself, you waved a frantic hand to your friends and somehow managed to scream, ‘Go!’
The girls slowed, tried to urge you forward, but, sensing that you weren’t keeping up and wanted them to go on without you, relented at last. They bounded off toward a side street and disappeared down an alley while you felt your legs start to falter beneath you.
“Freeze!” the voice bellowed again. Loud, gruff, and much closer to your ear than it had been before.
You did as he said, not because you wanted to, but because you had to, then, or your body would’ve given out. Still in the grips of terror and rampant intoxication, you stopped in your tracks, spun on your heels, and watched the two officers sprint toward you.
You started to raise your hands in surrender, but just when one of them approached—presumably to tackle you to the ground—your instincts took over. You scarcely knew what you were doing; you just felt your leg lift with the last bit of strength you had left, then, astonishingly, deliver a kick straight to the first man’s gut.
To the shock of you, the cop, and his partner, the man went tumbling backward. Fell straight on the pavement in almost comical fashion and grunted in pain.
“Rick!” the dark-haired one yelled reflexively.
His gaze darted back to you in an instant.
You knew you were capital F fucked. You didn’t bother trying to run and simply stared at the man left standing in a mixture of horror and dread as he charged straight at you.
Your flight response abandoned, you had only to fight. And, by the looks of your opponent, you sensed this motherfucker knew how to tussle.
Before you could even prime yourself for another kick, the cop had taken you down with one lunge. Pinned you flat on the asphalt and yelled right in your face,
“I said don’t move!”
You moved. You moved in his arms while he wrestled you to the sidewalk, snaked his hand around your front, pressed your back against his chest. You moved when he barked his orders once more, told you to get down now and stop resisting, and even wrapped his arm around your throat to force your compliance.
Chokehold’s illegal, asshole, you thought, fighting hard against his grasp. This cop played dirty, and appeared to give no fucks about who could see.
Just as his grip started to tighten around your neck, you heard the other officer back on his feet, talking sharply into his radio:
“Code 10-33. Requesting backup on Fayette Bridge.”
At the same time, the man above you was trying to shake his head, craning his neck to get his partner’s attention.
“Nah, nah, Rick, I got her!”
When ‘Rick’ didn’t seem to hear and kept shouting into the receiver, the burly cop turned his body to the side, squeezing your neck even tighter.
“Rick!” he called, “I got her right here, she’s— FUCK!”
Suddenly, the man’s voice broke off in a strangled yelp as you sank your teeth into the flesh of his arm. When he loosened his grip out of instinct, stinging with pain, you made a desperate attempt to slip from his grasp and get back on your hands and knees.
The freshly bitten cop just slammed you even harder on the ground, unleashing a string of expletives in your ear.
“Fuck you, pig!” you screamed back.
You weren’t sure what had come over you in the few short moments preceding this one—what had irked you so terribly to be inclined to kick one cop in the stomach and bite another on the arm like a feral cat—but there you went. Face down on the pavement with a set of handcuffs being clipped over your wrists.
You winced when you were jerked back onto your feet, the cop’s left hand on your shoulder and the other at your back. He shoved you to take your first steps forward, you instinctively told him to eat shit and die, and as a grim, unsavory unit, you walked toward the officer with his grip still fastened tight to his radio.
“You alright?” Rick asked, out of breath.
His gaze seared right through you to his partner—whose face, you could sense, was already beset with a scowl.
“Bitch bit me,” he spat.
You saw Rick’s expression change, watched his mouth move to speak again, when a sound crackled out of the receiver in his hand. A couple code words and street names you couldn’t make out.
“That’s— that’s alright, now, Officer Walsh has the subject restrained,” Rick returned hastily.
At present, Mr. Walsh had his thumb dug deep in your back, ostensibly holding tight to keep you subdued but more than likely just being an ass. He felt you flinch and gave you a fierce shake.
“Quit squirmin’, girl.”
“Quit pinchin’ me, pig!”
“You’d best watch that fuckin’ mouth’a yours.”
The voice above your ear had you easily outmatched in volume and tone, coarse as it was unkind.
You decided to try your luck anyway.
“Make me, pussy.”
The last thing you saw was the look of bewilderment leap to Rick’s face as Walsh thrust you forward, suddenly, and slammed you face-down on the hood of their car.
“What’d I say ‘bout that fuckin’ mouthin’ off?! Huh?”
“Shane—”
Rick grabbed this Shane’s shoulder in an effort to intervene. Tried prying him off before he could shove you down any harder, but his partner seemed adamant. Shane put his palm over the side of your head and knotted his fingers through your hair, quick to pull.
“Nah, man, I ain’t takin’ lip from some halfwit bimbo—”
“Hey!” you started, only to have your words muffled with your head forced back on the hood.
“Shane!” Rick snapped this time, taking a harder grip of his shirt and yanking him back. To your dismay, Shane kept a chunk of your hair clenched in his fist and probably dislodged a dozen or more strands when he was pulled away.
You let out a gentle groan as your head hit the car for a third time and the two officers broke off in a skirmish.
“You heard what Dixon said,” Rick hissed.
“Fuck what Dixon said!”
“You cain’t just— you got no right—”
“I got every right, man, lemme tell you sumn’—”
Before Shane could ‘tell you’ much of anything, though, the two were rendered silent by the sound of tires on pavement close by. A halt, a tense moment, a car door swinging open and closed, and a whisper passed quickly from Rick to Shane as the two exchanged a look,
“You fucked up.”
You tried tilting your head up toward the windshield to sneak a look in its reflection, maybe see who was coming. You couldn’t make out a thing.
Then, presently, the voice of a much more hushed, humbler Officer Walsh as he spoke,
“Detective Dixon, how’s it—”
“Six bucks.” Another man, presumably Dixon, cut in.
“Huh?”
“Six bucks fer this fuckin’ coffee. Tastes like dirt.”
Oh, uh, yeah, you could just sense Shane shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he searched for the right words to say, maybe scratched his head once or twice. Fortunately for him, Rick came to the rescue.
“Tried that new place on Main, huh?”
“Nic and Norman’s, yeah. Eggs were runny as shit an’ the waitress kept callin’ me ‘Dale’,” the man, now presumably Dixon but not Dale, said in a huff.
It was as if you weren’t lying flat on your tummy with your top off and your hands cuffed behind your back. You stupidly hoped the new man hadn’t noticed you.
“Well who’ve we got here?”
Shit.
You heard footsteps approach, but you didn’t turn your head. Your lungs expelled a small, shaky breath as this detective came by and stood inches from your bent form.
“She and her friends were flashing their tits to the cars passing under the bridge,” Shane declared, a touch too smug as he said it, “The others got away, but this one was sweet enough to grace us with her presence.”
“Kicked me in the stomach and knocked me on my ass,” Rick added.
“Bit me, too.”
You heard a low tsk-tsk as the detective clicked his tongue. Took another sip of his mud-flavored espresso and shook his head above you. Your skin burned with the imprint of his gaze.
“Spring break come a little late this year?” he teased.
“Fuck you,” you muttered.
The men let out a collective chuckle at your tart words. You could just picture the smirks and sly glances shared between them as they watched you writhe against the hood of the police cruiser and try not to give them the satisfaction of seeing your breasts splayed out underneath you.
You were ashamed, admittedly, unsure of how to proceed with three cops at your rear and few options at your disposal besides swearing up a storm. At last, you decided to shift your gaze in their direction and shoot them a glare—more of an empty threat than any real message, but you didn’t care.
You turned and immediately wished you hadn’t.
Your heart leapt into your throat.
“Daryl?!”
This time, Rick and Shane were the only ones to laugh out loud, before quickly stifling the sounds when they realized their superior hadn’t shown a hint of amusement.
Daryl Dixon, the detective, and your brother’s best friend from college, stared down at you with a look of horror.
“Y/N,” he stammered, in shock.
It was clear he was trying with every fiber of his being not to look down at your tits, but his resolve was only so strong. Finally, he settled on looking away, fast, and staring off in the distance while you readjusted yourself.
“Been a minute,” he said, trying for a curt, awkward nod.
And a minute it had been. The last time you’d laid eyes on the man had been at a Christmas party hosted by your brother and his husband four years ago. You’d exchanged all of ten words in polite, drunken pleasantries, and he’d stumbled off at the end of the night with a gorgeous redhead dressed as Mrs. Clause. You hadn’t heard hide nor hair of him since.
For a moment, Rick’s eyes danced indeterminately between you two. Shane’s remained fixed on your face.
“You know this little hellion, Detective?”
Daryl cleared his throat.
“Yeah, uh, that’s— that’s Aaron’s little sister.”
“No shit?”
The words came out faster than Shane could think to stop them. Your hometown was no great metropolis, and even he knew of your brother through a friend-of-a-friend and several cousins’ babysitter’s grandma’s Aunt Carol, or some similar relation. He and Rick had probably partied at your lake house a couple times in college.
“Uncuff her.” Daryl’s voice had already lowered some, pacing away to give you privacy.
Shane obliged and freed you from the handcuffs. When you turned around, only the back of Daryl’s body was visible to you as he ducked inside the backseat of his car.
He returned a few moments later with a blanket. Tried his damndest not to let his vision stray an inch from your face as he handed it to you. Then he beckoned Rick over, and the two exchanged a few quiet words by his sedan.
“You got rabies or anything?” Shane was eyeing the tiny crescent of teeth marks on his forearm.
You rolled your eyes.
“Worse. I’m one of those walkers.”
Shane gave you a look that conveyed he was just as annoyed but didn’t say anything more, even when you made a face at him. He just crossed his arms, leaned back against the squad car, and gritted his teeth. Before you knew it, Daryl and Rick were walking back.
“I’ll take her to the station,” Daryl said.
“Alri—”
“What?” you cried, “For what?!”
You knew for damn what. You just couldn’t believe your brother’s best friend wasn’t planning on giving you a family friend freebie of some kind.
Officer Walsh supplied an answer for you nonetheless, “Let’s see, now: public intoxication, public indecency, open container, and aggravated assault on two police officers. That clear things up, sweet cheeks?”
“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”
“Disorderly conduct, too,” Rick chimed in. Trying not to smile as he said it.
The only ones still not amused by anything this situation had to offer were you and Daryl. The detective looked positively pissed and ready to chuck his cup of coffee over the bridge, while you wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ether. The two of you exchanged a brief, uneasy look and quickly looked the other way.
Rick and Shane were already retreating to their cruiser. You just watched them, almost forlorn, and pretended not to see Daryl signaling for you to follow him.
“C’mon now,” he murmured.
“Can’t you just let me off with a warning?”
Daryl was treading closer to you now, hand outstretched in an almost gentle sort of gesture. Like he wasn’t about to cart you off to the slammer.
“Y’know I can’t do tha’,” he replied, “With all the fuss ya caused, Captain would have my head.”
When you wrenched your arm away from his grasp, you saw him frown.
“Hey,” Daryl said, a little more sternly now, “Don’t make this harder than it needs ta be.”
You watched him reach for you again.
Your first instinct was to shrug him off. Your second was to flee.
You weren’t sure why you even tried it—it just seemed like the right thing to do in the moment, like they did in the movies, to take off sprinting down the street. You gave it a shot.
Unfortunately for you, your feet didn’t carry you far, and Daryl had you snagged in his arms in about five seconds flat. You glanced to the first cop car and saw that Rick and Shane hadn’t even stirred from their seats. Just grinning and laughing at your attempted escape.
Detective Dixon had you by the bicep now, leading you toward his car with a little more force in his step. You were cursing, writhing, fighting every effort of his to corral you into the backseat, but, without much trouble, he pushed you in.
Rear doors locking automatically, you had little more to do than sit and pout and feel every bit the brat as Daryl buckled himself in and started the car.
“C’mon, Dar, this isn’t a joke. I could lose my job ‘cause of this,” you whined, threading your fingers through the wired metal barricade that separated you.
Daryl watched and waited for the other cruiser to fall behind him. Then he started off.
“Shoulda thought about tha’ before ya decided to show yer tits off ta the world, no?”
“Like four people saw us.”
In the rearview mirror, you could’ve sworn you saw a ghost of a smile cross Daryl’s lips.
“I got a pretty colorful phone call from a man named Eugene saying he saw three girls danglin’ half nekkid from a bridge tryin’ ta flag down a firetruck...Don’t sound all that discreet to me.” Daryl shrugged, pretending not to see you slump back in your seat.
“We were drunk!” you cried.
You threw your hands up and let them fall at your side, while Daryl made a wide left turn.
“So?”
“You’ve done plenty of dumb shit when you were drunk, Dixon. Don’t even start.” You raised your hand like you were talking to your mother as an angsty teen. The man in the driver’s seat hardly seemed fazed.
“Oh?”
You paused a beat, then jolted back up as an old memory stirred in your mind.
“Like— like the time you got so shitfaced on senior night that you stumbled into my room thinking it was the bathroom,” you said, hastily, “Pissed all over my floor.”
Daryl’s eyes darted up to meet yours in the mirror, sharing in that vague and ugly recollection from his college days.
“That was yer room?” he winced.
“I was twelve and terrified,” you said, hovering as close as the metal wall would allow you, “Didn’t even know what being piss-drunk meant until you decided to relieve yourself all over my Barbie rug.”
“Ah shit...I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Let me out and we’ll call it even?” you ventured.
“Nuh-uh,” Daryl said, shaking his head, “Not how that works.”
You balled your hand in a fist and struck the wall between you, an exasperated sigh escaping your lips. Try as you might to fight it, you were still slightly buzzed and far more prone to anger than you normally would be. Daryl gave you a look.
“Pipe down, princess, ‘s’ain’t the end of the world.”
“And who the fuck are you to say?” you snapped, clenching your jaw.
Daryl pressed a bit harder on the brakes as he brought the car to a stop at a red light. Then he shot a look over his shoulder. His brow drew in just slightly.
“Yer a real brat, ya know that?”
“Really, pig?” you sneered.
“Yeah, slut.”
Your mouth fell open at the sound of Daryl’s first real insult. He’d been all placid smiles and gentle eyes, never lapsing in the civility of his rank or his respect for you, his close friend’s sister, until that point. You watched as his gaze visibly hardened and moved away from yours, foot hitting the gas when the light turned green.
“What did you just call me?”
“A fucking slut. ‘Cause tha’s what ya are,” Daryl answered, not missing a beat.
Had he lost his fucking mind? Who did he think he was? The man carried on, starting to increase the car’s speed,
“Nobody’s showin’ off a pair’a tits that damn pretty ‘less they’re a whore, ya know?”
You sat back in awe, hardly aware of the cruiser’s growing acceleration, or the fact that Daryl was just then starting to turn down a road you—and Rick and Shane—had never seen before. You were too offended. Flustered.
“Excuse m—”
“Yeah, I looked. You’ve got an incredible rack, really,” Daryl admitted as he cut you off, “Too bad it’s attached to such a worthless little slut.”
“Get fucked, Dixon,” you hissed, beating your fist against the divider once more.
“Oh, believe me, we will.”
Your blood likely would’ve run cold in your veins if you had the first clue what he was talking about. What did he mean by ‘we’? Why had he started smiling when he’d said that?
Presently, you looked out the window.
Where the everliving fuck had he taken you?
Instead of finding yourself parked outside the King County Sheriff’s Department, as expected, you cast a sidelong glance to the left and the right and saw nothing but trees. Wilderness. You were parked in a clearing, at what appeared to be a campground...in a quarry?
You turned back to Daryl, suddenly rigid with fear.
The driver’s side door was already slamming shut behind him. Instead of deigning so much as a glance at the back, he strode right past you and went over to the car that had just pulled up. Rick and Shane appeared just as confused as you were as they came to a stop.
You watched them, dumbstruck, pulse pounding in your ears as a hundred different thoughts danced in your mind and grew progressively darker the longer you stared. Were they going to torture you? Kill you? Cuff you to the car and kick the living shit out of you until you bled from the mouth and begged them for mercy?
There was no way the drunken fratboy of your youth, now a detective on the police force and your brother’s best friend, would do something so heinous, right?
You slinked back in your seat when you saw all three men turn and approach your car.
Now, more than ever, there was no place but the police car you wanted to be as Daryl flung the back door open and stuck his head inside.
“Hey,” he grinned, “Wanna talk?”
Before you knew it, your feet were planted on the rocky terrain directly in front of Daryl’s car, and your hands were clasped together. Not cuffed this time—just folded and trying to look as polite and unassuming as possible.
“We’ve got a proposition,” Daryl started, steady.
You watched him pace back and forth while the two other officers stood back in silence. Shane wore the faintest smirk.
“You don’t wanna go to jail, right?”
You shook your head no.
“Good, ‘cause we don’t really feel like bookin’ ya,” Daryl continued, “Too much paperwork an’ all tha’ bullshit.”
You nodded along, slowly. Relieved to hear you weren’t getting arrested but waiting to see what the ‘But…’ was.
“But, y’know— it wouldn’t be fair to let ya go that easy.”
You kept nodding. Now looking at Shane and Rick and finding both of them smiling.
“So I say we make ourselves a deal. That okay with you, sugar tits?” Daryl sneered.
You balked at the name but swallowed your pride and answered, ‘Uh huh’ in a small voice. Squeezed your hands even tighter together.
Daryl approached you for the first time. You stood there, trembling, still thinking there was a chance that the three of them might just beat the hell out of you right then and there—and you flinched when Daryl lifted his hand to your cheek.
He brushed a few loose hairs from your face.
“I think you need to start by saying sorry.” His voice was almost serene.
You blinked a couple times up at Daryl with wide, oblivious eyes, shaking your head when you didn’t understand what he meant.
“To Shane,” Daryl added.
Softly, he tilted your chin toward his friend, who was grinning even bigger now.
You struggled for a second, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before stammering:
“I-I’m sorry, Shane.”
Your voice barely reached them in a whisper. You were so confused.
And, just as you started to wonder if that was all they really wanted, or if there’d be some other catch, Daryl decided to supply you with a wordless answer before you could even ask. The “catch” caught you right on the backs of your legs as Daryl gave them a gentle kick, causing both to buckle underneath you. You fell to the ground on your hands and knees and straightened yourself up just in time to see Shane make his leisurely approach.
“I’m sorry, Shane,” you spluttered again, thinking he just wanted you to grovel there in front of him.
Daryl and Shane exchanged looks. Then they smirked at you.
“I think Shane would rather you show him how sorry you are,” Daryl said, suddenly leaning over to collect two handfuls of hair behind your head, “With your mouth.”
At any other time, such condescension dripping from a man’s tone would have turned you off—and pissed you off—immediately. With Daryl and Shane standing over you now, the former’s fingers slotting through your hair and the latter’s working to unzip his pants, you couldn’t imagine yourself being any more aroused.
It hit you like a ton of bricks, all at once.
They were there to fuck you, not fight you.
At least not in the way you’d imagined anyway. No doubt Shane was keen to get his fill, and might be a tad more aggressive than the others to get it, but Daryl would make sure he didn’t push too hard. He held your head in place while Shane pulled out his cock.
And, you hated to say it, but your mouth was salivating for a taste. You couldn’t be bothered to look up at either man now, just soaking in the sight of Shane’s thick, veiny member and feeling your face being moved closer to it. Not minding you were being manhandled as a gentle moan escaped your throat.
“Wanna show Shane how sorry ya are? Show him how good tha’ slutty little mouth’a yers can make him feel?” Daryl hummed.
“She’s droolin’, man,” Shane said, hardening at the sight.
You were. You couldn’t help it. You felt a thumb swipe at the spit that had just begun to trickle out of your mouth and sensed Rick at your side, enthralled as all the rest of them. Then that same finger drifted down to your tits, smearing the moisture all over one nipple before pinching the peak between two digits.
Your lips parted with another small whimper at the sensation, and Shane took that as his window to thrust his cock in your mouth. Caught off guard, you couldn’t help but gag when his tip hit the back of your throat, but Daryl steered your head back just in time so you weren’t choking on that first, single stroke.
“Easy, easy,” Daryl chided his friend as he watched your eyes water and your hand reach up to steady yourself against Shane’s thigh.
“You kiddin’? She fuckin’ loves it,” Shane grinned, “Don’t you, slut?”
You licked your lips and nodded. Didn’t bat an eye when Shane brought the head of his cock back down to your lips, and you quickly enveloped him in an open-mouthed kiss of sorts. Shane groaned at the sensation and couldn’t help but rut his hips.
“Such a fuckin’ whore,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
Daryl helped move your head up and down his length while you stared up at Shane with the prettiest, most fucked-out expression you could manage, and you felt his length twitch in your mouth. Daryl pulled you off.
“Now what do we say for kicking Officer Grimes, hm?”
Before you could answer, your face was tilted to the left, and you were met with the sight of Rick stroking his length at your side. A string of saliva still connecting your mouth to Shane’s cock, you looked up at the friendlier of the two officers and gave him a smile.
“I’m sorry, Officer Grimes.”
This time, Daryl let Rick take the reins, for a moment, and move your mouth over his shaft. You happily accepted him between your lips and started bobbing almost instantly. You relished the pleasure that flooded those soft blue eyes, the way they winced just a little when you took him to the back of your throat. Like he wanted to fuck your face but felt too overcome with some feeling or fear to give it a try.
You decided it was cruel to make a man so polite wait a second longer than he needed to. Presently, you pulled off Rick’s length with a gentle ‘pop’ and turned your head back over to Daryl.
“Can you please tell Officer Grimes to fuck my throat?”
All three of them froze for a second, taken back by the filth that had just come out of your mouth, still spoken so sweetly. You stroked Rick’s cock and pretended to be oblivious of what you saw. Deep down, you knew by the glint in their eyes they were yearning, lusting, fucking you in their minds with every innocent blink you made. You felt Daryl’s grip tighten in your hair.
“You heard the lady,” Shane said, words directed to Rick but gaze never leaving you.
Out of habit, his hand came to wrap around his own cock as he watched you take Rick’s. You glanced between the two of them, placed a quick kiss on the tip—first on Rick’s and then, to the men’s surprise, on Shane’s—and parted your lips when you moved back to Rick.
Officer Grimes didn’t hesitate this time. He leveled himself with your mouth and pushed all the way in. You started to moan, but the sound was audibly cut short by a spasm in your throat. Rick reached the back of your warm, wet orifice with ease and, going further than Shane ever went, actually slid down that space. Exactly how you wanted him. You bobbed your head and hummed to show your appreciation.
Encouraged by how eagerly you swallowed him and how quick your whimpers were to reverberate down his length, Rick moved his hips. Watched you gag once or twice and blink through a couple tears, before Daryl wiped the moisture away as Rick had done for your spit. You were every bit the pampered and primped fuckdoll in their hands, bobbing and licking and sucking him dry.
“Good girl,” Daryl murmured, massaging your scalp when you gagged again.
“Takin’ me so well,” Rick groaned as he fed you another inch.
Shane continued pumping his cock, grunting out expletives, and watching you all the while.
You pulled off of Rick for a moment. Whether it would piss them off or turn them on, you didn’t really care—but you reached up to Shane and replaced his hand with yours, before dropping a kiss over the head of his cock.
All three men seemed to love it. Especially Daryl.
Though he hadn’t made a move to get his own dick wet just yet, you got the sense the man loved to watch. Loved to see your mouth sliding up and down and swallowing more cock every time, thinking to himself what a nasty, filthy little whore you were and just waiting for the moment it would be his turn to claim your throat and the rest of your holes as his own. In the meantime, you wanted to give him a good show.
You jerked both Rick and Shane in either hand and chanced a look over at Daryl.
Locking eyes with him, you moved down over Rick and sucked half his length in your mouth. Then, just as quick, you took Shane between your lips and gave the tip a wet, spongy kiss before taking him to the back of your throat. The mound in Daryl’s pants grew even more pronounced.
“Hey,” Rick said, grazing your cheek with his knuckles, “Ain’t you gonna say sorry to Detective Dixon, too?”
You moaned against Shane’s throbbing length and made sure Daryl saw your tongue swirl over the tip. Teasing him now.
Presently, Shane pulled out of your mouth and grabbed hold of your hair.
“Gonna make him feel real good with that slutty little mouth’a yours, huh?” he growled.
You nodded and smiled. Wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and started crawling over to Daryl as soon as Shane let you go.
You couldn’t believe he’d waited this long—couldn’t believe you’d been sucking his friends dry all this time and hadn’t gotten so much as a glimpse at him. Daryl watched you with a comfortable, lopsided sort of smirk as you made your way over to him, clearly enjoying this view of you on all fours.
Not even a guillotine could take away the head you were about to give this man.
When you finally reached his knees and straightened up enough to reach for the zip of his brown slacks, you felt a hand catch you around the wrist. To your surprise, Daryl held you back and yanked you onto your feet.
“I wan’ my apology someplace else.”
That ‘place,’ you would come to learn, was simply on top of his car. Splayed out on the hood of his cruiser with your pants dragged all the way down to your ankles and kicked off at your feet. Daryl carried you there and stripped you down to your panties, leaving you all but naked and ogling him with keen, hungry eyes. Rick and Shane were quick to follow suit and seemed just as eager as you were to watch this scene unfold.
You reached for his clothed erection once more but found your hand swatted away.
“Nuh-uh,” Daryl shook his head.
You raised an eyebrow in question. You opened your mouth to speak but found yourself moaning instead when Daryl slipped a finger past your panties and between your folds. Somehow finding your clit quicker than you could even dream, he circled that tiny bundle of nerves with his thumb and teased the seal of your entrance with his middle and ring fingers.
You clawed at his wrist.
“But Dar— I-I wanna taste you so bad,” you pleaded.
Daryl grinned and plunged his two fingers deep inside you, holding your hip to the car to keep you from squirming. He nodded to Rick, who took that as his cue to press down on your other side. Together, they had you pinned to the hood and helpless under their touch.
Daryl curled his fingers up and caused you to moan.
“How bad?” he asked.
“So—” your voice broke off in a gasp when the pads of his fingers stroked your G spot, “So bad, Daryl, please.”
You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was savoring every second of this sight: you with your legs spread, begging and pathetic as he and Rick held you down. He probably would’ve liked to keep you there a little longer, maybe teased and fingerfucked you to the point of tears, but he got the sense that his friends weren’t possessed of quite the same patience. He’d just have to save the overstimulation for later.
Before you knew it, Daryl had given Rick another quick nod, released you from his hold, and pulled you off the car—before steadying you back on your feet, facing the vehicle.
Your hands flew out to catch yourself, but, before meeting metal, intercepted Daryl’s broad form instead. He took a seat on the front end of the car and caught you in both of his big, calloused palms.
“How ‘bout that taste, hm?” He was already starting to unbuckle his pants.
Finally. You promptly started to sink to your knees, when a light slap struck your cheek. You peeked up at its source and found Daryl shaking his head once more.
“Stay put,” he instructed as he started to pull his cock out of his boxers, “Rick’s gonna fuck tha’ slutty little cunt while ya suck me off, alright?”
It wasn’t so much a question as it was a signal—and an effective one at that—to get Rick off his ass and hurrying to get behind yours. In the next second, you felt a set of warm, calloused hands on your hips and a tender grip tugging you back to meet someone’s crotch.
Your pussy twitched with the realization of your current predicament: bent over between the two men, with Daryl’s cock mere inches from your face and Rick’s member throbbing above your heat. Never once had an image like this materialized in your mind’s wildest fantasies, but now that you were here, stuck between these two with Shane just then drawing closer, you found yourself turned on to no end.
You parted your lips to allow Daryl entry when Rick teased the head of his cock up your slit. You took just the tip of Daryl, trying to stifle a moan, and the man behind you rubbed the length of himself up and down the seam of your cunt to collect all your juices. Another inch of Daryl in your mouth and you were whimpering with the feeblest look up at him, needing Rick inside you too.
Daryl held your gaze and ran a hand over your head.
“Little slut needs her pussy fucked, does she?”
You nodded, bobbing gently over Daryl’s member. You were just preparing to ease him in another inch or two when all of a sudden, the head of his cock jumped to the back of your throat as Rick thrusted into you.
It was far less gentle than you’d expected, sending you deep down Daryl’s length and causing you to gag. You hardly had time to adjust, or pull off of the man in front of you to catch your breath, when Rick started pounding you from behind. Rutting his hips, grunting in time with his thrusts, and slapping your ass in quick, ruthless hits. Daryl groaned above you as you had no choice but to deepthroat him again and again.
Shane, ever impatient, approached your free hand and guided it toward his erection. He wrapped your fingers around his cock and helped you stroke him quick, all while your mouth and pussy were presently occupied by Daryl and Rick’s sloppy thrusts.
“Ya like gettin’ spitroasted, huh? Like gettin’ fucked in two holes at once?” Shane sneered.
“Fuckin’ loves it,” Rick answered for you with a smirk, “Never seen a pussy this wet in my life.”
You imagined all of them could see and hear the arousal oozing from your freshly-fucked cunt, but you sensed no one liked it better than Daryl. The man was entranced with the sight of your form getting fucked from behind, sucking him deeper, looking up through your wet, tear-stained lashes as you let him fuck your face. That pure euphoric look in his eyes was almost like a drug—you wanted nothing more than to keep it there as long as you could.
Mere minutes later, Rick’s hips were stuttering against your own and his cum was spraying all over your insides. You didn’t stop sucking Daryl.
Shane gladly switched places with Rick and took a greedy handful of your hips before pumping his cock once or twice. You flattened your tongue against Daryl’s member and took him even further down your throat.
The man behind you was panting, right about to breach your folds when a sight below him held him in place.
Rick’s load was just then starting to dribble out of your pussy, leaving a long white trail of milky residue down your slit.
Shane clenched his jaw.
“Still hungry for more, slut?” he said through gritted teeth. To your surprise, you felt his fingertips trace the outline of your cunt and start moving up toward your other hole.
He was coating your asshole with Rick’s cum, grinning when you flinched.
“Think she’s ever been fucked in the ass before?” Shane asked the others. He slipped a digit inside your hole and watched you moan on Daryl’s dick.
Daryl pulled you off his cock and held you by your hair, your mouth saturated with strings of fresh saliva.
“Have you?”
You swallowed and shook your head. Daryl didn’t let his gaze linger on you another second. He signaled to Rick.
“Right there,” he pointed with his chin.
You hardly knew what was going on or where Rick had hastened off to. All you could comprehend was the gruff tone of Daryl’s voice telling you to get up, now, and the feel of Shane’s hands still holding you, guiding you back to your feet. When you didn’t move fast enough for his liking, Shane simply swept you up in his arms bridal-style and started carrying you himself.
Over his shoulder, you spied Daryl and Rick exchanging words and the latter placing the blanket you’d worn earlier on the ground. You almost felt tempted to ask Shane what they were planning to do, just starting to speak, when the man brought you over to the spot and set you right down.
The three of them had you circled in an instant.
Before the question could even form on your lips, you watched Daryl join you on the blanket. His smirk was evident.
He patted his lap for you to come straddle him.
When he started to lie down, your hands followed suit, eager to rest on either side of his chest, but another touch held you back. Behind you, Shane had grabbed hold of your hair and turned your head to face him.
“Spit,” he ordered, holding his hand under your chin.
You did as you were told and watched him rub your spit all over his shaft, before bringing his hand up to your face again and repeating his command.
At the same time, Daryl had lifted his hips and was guiding you closer to his cock. Your gaze moved down, then up, then over at Rick with a look of confusion, only to dart back to Daryl when you felt him split you open with a single thrust.
You had just been impaled on Daryl’s cock, mind reeling at the stretch and sensation, when you felt two fingers slip between your legs from behind. Daryl gripped your face and brought it down to his—wouldn’t let you look over your shoulder as the other man’s hand started to traverse the contour of your ass.
You were pulled in for a kiss as Daryl bottomed out inside you. Tongue hardly able to keep up with his as moans and whimpers went bubbling up in your throat, you just sat there, straddled him, and let him use your pussy any way he pleased. He snapped his hips and groaned your name between your lips, while the hand that was prodding you from behind finally reached its intended destination.
You yelped into Daryl’s mouth the second you felt a full, hefty finger slip inside your ass. Officer Walsh, no doubt.
The two men at your rear all but moaned as your tight little hole contracted around Shane’s finger and Daryl continued to pound you from below. It was odd, that sharp, disparate feeling of Daryl’s cock drilling your pussy while Shane’s digit pumped a much slower pace in your ass. Your senses had kicked into overdrive, and you couldn’t keep from showing your pleasure with every sound that you made.
Shane withdrew just long enough to add another finger, smearing a mixture of cum, spit, and your own juices all over your walls for lubrication. You sensed him moving closer, when Rick grabbed hold of his shoulder.
“Give her a minute,” he muttered.
Shane scoffed, shaking him off.
“Little whore looks plenty ready to me,” he retorted as he eyed your slick, sensitive hole.
Suddenly, your throat was clasped in Shane’s big hand and your head pulled tight against his chest. He had taken his cock in his other hand and was angling his length just right to press the head between your cheeks. Daryl had slowed almost completely.
“C’mere.” Daryl beckoned you closer with a tender look. When you leaned down to lay flat on his chest, he smiled, stroked your hair, “Jus’ hold on ta me, alright?”
Your walls were already squeezing his cock like a vice and your fingernails making white-hot crescents in his shoulders—you couldn’t hold him tighter if you tried—but you nodded. You let him kiss you again, felt a little more fit to take his tongue this time, and eased down along his shaft until you were filled to the brim with nothing but him.
That last part changed as soon as Shane thrust into your ass.
You jolted forward and instinctively tried to pull off his cock, but Daryl held you tight. Brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face and started peppering your skin with kisses the louder you whimpered.
“Doin’ so good for us, baby— takin’ our cocks so well,” he cooed in your ear.
You whined at the fierce burn between your legs as both Daryl and Shane pushed inside you. Rough fucking was one thing, but being penetrated in both holes simultaneously while sandwiched between two men just brought the sensations to entirely new heights. You clawed at Daryl’s shoulders and damn near sunk your teeth straight through your bottom lip.
“Good girl,” the man below you mumbled as he watched your face contort in a medley of pleasure and pain, “Tha’s my good girl.”
“Fuckin’ whore,” Shane spat, shoving his cock even deeper. Clearly not one for tender anal training.
Now it was Daryl going slow and sweet, just barely stirring his cock inside you while Shane slapped your ass and yanked your hips over his own. You saw Rick’s previously-deflated cock grow hard in his hands, and you proceeded to watch him watch you as he stroked himself a few feet away.
You needed another distraction. You caught Rick’s eye and simply licked your lips in silent invitation. He was filling your mouth in a matter of seconds.
With three cocks pumping in and out of you, you felt every bit the fucked-out brat you knew they’d wanted to claim. Your brain had all but melted to mush in their hands, your body manhandled and fucked every which way while your thoughts yielded, in turn, to pure anoesis.
There was something unusually freeing about being a living, breathing fuckdoll for these three King County cops. You couldn’t get enough.
Rick pulled his dick out of your mouth just long enough to slap you with it.
“This what ya needed?” he teased, tapping the head of his cock on your spit-painted cheeks, “A good fucking in all your holes to make you behave?”
You stuck out your tongue and tried to nod, your body still shaking with every thrust from Daryl and Shane. Instead of pushing back in, Rick simply rubbed his cock all over your face and shot you a look that was soaked to the core with condescension. Somewhere below, Daryl began toying with your clit.
You sucked in a breath between broken moans and clenched harder around both men inside you.
“Think she wants a switch,” Rick grinned.
In a minute, you felt yourself hoisted back up—Shane pulling out and Daryl rising swiftly to his feet. Two sets of hands helped maneuver your body to a position you’d never tried, never even seen before as your legs hooked over either one of Daryl’s arms and your ass was thrust back. Then, to your relief, it was Rick at your rear this time, rubbing his tip along your red and stretched out hole while your head came to rest on his shoulder.
You were pressed between the men once more and cradled comfortably in their arms. Daryl took care not to rut into you too hard while Rick was still coating your arousal across the hole Shane had just fucked raw.
“Shh, shh,” Rick’s lips dropped close to your ear while he pressed a wet finger inside, trying to relubricate the area.
You wiggled and squirmed, a bit too sensitive to keep still at this point, so Shane reached in and took you by the throat.
“Hold still,” he snapped. Stroking himself with his free hand.
You watched his eyes drift down to the spot where he’d just been, where Rick was trying to squeeze into, and felt the first real twinge of bliss when you felt the head of his cock tease your entrance. This was softer, even sweet. Paired with Daryl’s extra slow thrusts and the sounds all three were making as you spread your legs even wider, you first became aware of a knot in your tummy.
When the warmth of your ass enveloped just the tip of him, you felt it constrict even tighter.
Rick let out a groan and struggled to keep from thrusting too hard. Shane tightened his grip on your neck.
“C’mon now, sugar tits, don’t act like you ain’t just—”
“Shane,” Daryl growled.
Rick didn’t stop. You squeezed both cocks and moaned.
“I’m just sayin’ if the slut could fit my cock in and—”
“Fuck,” Rick hissed.
You were bouncing in between them now, head lolled back on Rick’s shoulder and hand pressed flush against Daryl’s chest. Steeped in pleasure as they stood and fucked you stupid.
Shane continued to tug his cock and stare you down with hungry, possessive eyes.
Daryl’s moans turned to shallow grunts while Rick’s breath fanned soft across your cheeks in ragged breaths. You writhed and you grinded between their two bodies, too lost in your own ascent to pleasure to sense anything else. Your skin was wet with a sheen of sweat and both holes all but soaked between the two men. Their cocks plunging in and out at a vicious pace until the coil in your stomach was nearly starting to ache.
“Feelin’ good?” Rick hummed in your ear.
“Gettin’ close?” Daryl joined.
Shane’s hand closed around your throat until your lungs could scarcely breathe and your vision blurred with stars. Making one last strangled moan, you rolled your hips and felt something taut and tight and blisteringly hot break loose across your abdomen—and not just the ropes of cum shooting deep inside you.
Alongside that tiny eruption came a blitz of pleasure unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Your body went haywire, every square inch of your skin alight with ecstasy and your mind going numb in a surge of bliss. You moaned and felt the walls of both holes spasm desperately over Daryl and Rick alike, and suddenly, something far beyond your control seemed ready to tear your body in two.
A beat of silence. Your consciousness gradually returned.
When you opened your eyes, the first thing to grace your sight was Daryl’s shining face, grinning ear to ear with the happiest expression.
You blinked and watched him closer.
As your vision adjusted and the world came clearer into view, you caught a glimpse of what seemed to have stretched Daryl’s smile so wide—and what had made his features so unusually luminous in this light.
Your eyes widened.
Daryl glanced to Rick, then Shane.
“Who knew she’d be a squirter?”
Presently, your juices were coating Daryl’s face and chest, having spurted straight from your cunt in the throes of climax and spraying all over his front.
Your pussy still clenched and convulsed as the cum from either man went seeping out of both holes.
Even Shane was left speechless, having just milked the last of his own release and watched you come undone in near-pornographic fashion. His chest was still heaving, blinking in disbelief and exchanging sly looks with Daryl and Rick every now and then. Rick pressed a kiss to your shoulder and smiled.
And, just when it seemed any one of you were liable to break that spell of silence with a laugh, the rattle of radio feedback startled you all.
Somewhere amidst the articles of clothing strewn around you, a walkie talkie clipped to one officer’s belt rang loud with the sound of a voice from a neighboring county’s dispatcher.
“All available units, high-speed pursuit in progress— Linden County units request local assistance. Highway 18 eastbound, GTA, ADW, 2-17, 2-4-3. Advise extreme caution.”
All three men stood to attention. Daryl and Rick lowered you quickly to the ground while Shane went scrambling for his clothes.
“Suspects are two male Caucasians. Be advised they have fired upon police officers. One Linden County officer is wounded.”
“Shit!” Rick hissed.
“Unit 1, unit 3, to eastbound Route 18. Two miles west of Interstate 85. Will patch in Linden County sheriff radio.”
“Is tha’—” Daryl started.
“We need to go,” Shane interrupted.
Another voice broke out over the line,
“Roger that. We’re five minutes south of the Route 18 intersection.”
Daryl tossed you what garments of yours he could find and snatched your arm in a breakneck haste. Before you could so much as slip your shirt over your head, though, you found yourself carted back over to his squad car and pushed toward an open door.
“What’s—”
“I’ll explain on the way.”
For reasons you couldn’t yet understand, you knew this call didn’t bode well for any of you. You took one last look at Officer Grimes and felt a twist in your stomach.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon one shot#daryl dixon imagine#daryl x reader#the walking dead#twd daryl#twd fanfiction#twd imagine#rick grimes smut#shane walsh smut#rickyl
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I’m thinking of any of the boys, how would they react to being teased with? And I don’t mean oh that’s cute- I mean hardcore teasing. I’m thinking wearing cute outfits or saying things in the vicinity of the boys, where they can’t do anything about it. I might have asked this before so if I did, oops.
but I’m never without a backup!
I love the scene Aaron meets Rick and Michonne, them jumping out of bed. But what if it was the reader and Rick or the reader with Daryl or Rickyl or….?
“tell your mom and dad…”
“huh?” Carl rolls his eyes at who it is and calls them gross and lame. Lol (idk; that’s what my teen would have done)
Hehe ok I’m using this as a little bonus blurb for poison… I promise part 4 is coming soon but here’s something to tie us all off in the meantime <3
“You gotta tell her to cut it out. I can’t believe I’m bricked up at a children's birthday party, right now.” Shane slumps down next to Rick. Visibly irritated, grabbing the throw pillow from beside him, and placing it in his lap to conceal the tent in his blue jeans.
“Why don’t you tell her?” Rick asks.
They both look over at you from their spot on the deck. Watching you throw neon rings into the water from the side of the pool. Entertaining the half a dozen 10 year olds whose parents are all too busy getting drunk in your parents house, to look after their own children.
“You’re the only one she actually listens to.”
Rick just shakes his head with a little huff, “She’s a fuckin’ brat. Doesn’t listen to anyone.”
You know they're watching you. They have been all day. From the second you asked Rick to help tighten the strings of your bikini top, you had them in a damn trance. Unable to control their constant wandering gaze.
“What kinda swimsuit is that? Barely even covers her nipples.” Shane whines.
“She’s doin’ it on purpose. Tryna get a reaction out of you. And it’s workin’, so just… quit starin’. She’ll give it up soon enough.”
“I need her to put a shirt on before I cream my frickin’ jeans, Ricky. Go on and tell her that.”
“Tell her what?” Daryl interjects the conversation with gifts from the garage. He hands the two men a beer, plopping down on the love seat across them.
“Tell her to quit teasin us’. It ain’t funny and she ain’t bein’ very subtle about it either.” Shane nods over at you. Unfortunately for him, you catch his stare and wave back at him. A sweet, innocent little wave that sends butterflies swarming around in his gut.
“Shit.” Shane shifts his gaze to the floor.
“What?”
“Made eye contact. She’s coming over.”
They all share a look before you reach the couch. Dripping wet and wringing out your hair with a towel.
“Hey,” You plop down next to Daryl, the only open seat available.
“You’re soaking.” He complains, moving further into the armrest.
“What? You afraid of a little water?” You tease, over aware of the clenched jaws staring you down from the couch.
He lets out a little grunt, sipping his beer to distract himself from your practically naked legs, brushing up against his jeans.
“Shoot, I think I’m starting to burn,” you act all concerned, looking down at your decolletage and running delicate fingers over your sun kissed skin, “think one of you could reapply for me?” You ask, reaching for the coffee table where your sunscreen so conveniently happens to be sitting right in front of the three men.
You see Shane’s fist tighten around the beer as he struggles to avoid your gaze.
“Shane?” You ask, knowing he’s always the first to break for you.
“Me..?” he looks over at Rick and sighs, tipping his head back. Asking god why the hell he was testing him so hard today.
Rick lets out an involuntary groan at his friend’s attitude.
“Alright, get over here.” He waves you over, snatching the bottle from your hands.
You stifle your laugh by biting your lip. Practically crawling over Daryl to reach Rick’s lap. Sitting down, bikini bottoms dampening his denim clad thigh, though he doesn’t complain. He just takes the sunscreen and squeezes a generous amount on his hands. Handing you the bottle back and rubbing the cream together before starting on your shoulders.
You sigh at his touch, leaning your head to the side and pulling your hair out of the way to give him better access to your back.
“I know what you’re doing.” His voice is low in your ear. Lips dangerously close to your neck. “Ain’t foolin anybody. Acting like a damn brat. Teasin’ us right in front of your daddy…” he chuckles. His breath sends goosebumps down your spine as his hands rub the muscles on your back.
“I- don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” you play dumb. Lids fluttering closed at the wonderful sensation of Rick's fingers working at the knots between your shoulder blades. Gliding back and forth and then slipping down to your lower back. Where his touch starts feeling less like a massage and more like a tickle. Threatening to send a shiver through your body.
“Sure you do,” he slides his hands down to your hips, grabbing on to you and pulling you even further into his lap, the sudden movement makes your breath hitch in your throat. “You know exactly what you’re doin’. Know exactly what game you’re trying to play. Guess you didn't realize that we might know how to play too, hm?” He uses his grip on your hips to grind you down on his lap, and the huge bulge that’s making the front of his jeans so tight.
Your eyes go wide at his boldness. Knowing that any of your fathers friends could see from their various spots all over the yard. Hell your father could see if he just turned away from his conversation with Deanna. Fortunate for you, they’re all too focused on their own conversations to pay attention to the borderline filth happening on the patio furniture.
“I- I wasn't-“
“See boys? She sure loves to dish it out but the second you start dishin’ it back,” he huffs a laugh before continuing, “she turns into a needy, little mess.”
-
pick your poison taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker @whatthefuuuck @imyourbratzdoll @olive3oil @taylormarieee @spidermonkey2423 @fanngirl19
#pick your poison#rick grimes fanfiction#rick grimes x y/n#Rick grimes x reader#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x y/n#shane walsh smut#shane walsh#shane walsh x you#shane walsh x reader#bonus blurb
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"Not So Tough Now, Darlin?"
"Not So Tough Now, Darlin?" Shane Walsh x You
Warning: dubcon, Shane drunk fucking you, inspired by that one moment at the CDC except it's mostly consensual, brutal fuck, hair pulling, darling/darlin, fem!reader
Words: 650
Special mentions: @versatilehater @sinsandsweetness @dustbunniess
Daydreaming about Shane Walsh drunk-hate fucking you.
You and Shane never got along, he was always stubborn and a hot head, you saw his obsession with Lori and even called him out on several occasions. You and Shane have always butted heads, yelling at each other but neither of y'all could deny the sexual tension between you two. You always caught Shane staring at your ass in those short dresses and skirts you loved to wear. This time he wasn't letting it slide.
He continued his assault on your hole, tightening his grip on your bruised waist as you were bent over the counter. He was a drunken angry mess and abused your body as you trembled beneath him. Precum was slipping from his cock as he thrusted into you, making you a wet mess.
You moaned and whimpered, “Fuck, please slow down!”, you tried to protest but he covered your mouth and whispered in you ear, “You’re going to fucking take it look a good girl, you’ve been nothing but a brat to me, flaunting your ass with those tiny ass skirts you wear. You didn't think I’d snap one of these days and just bend over your ass and fuck you stupid, darlin?”
Your eyes widen and was filled with tears, your legs were shaking as he thrusted that big veiny cock of his, and fuck it was huge. You winced everytime he thrusted into your aching hole, moving your soaked panties to the side as you were still wearing them. You tried to protest again but his rageful drunken thrusts made you stumble and you couldn’t take it anymore. You fell to your knees and tried to crawl away but he grabbed you by your braids harshly and made you face him, his eyes were glossy and red, “Where are you goin, sweetheart? You ain't running away from me.” He then picked you up over his shoulders and sat down on a chair nearby.
He then bent you over on his chair and pressed his bulge against that tiny skirt of yours. You felt his bulge against his jeans, making you even more wet.
“Fuck,” He groans as he rips your soaked panties off, “You're so fucking wet sweetheart..”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of fear and arousal coursing through your veins. You were at his mercy, completely vulnerable and exposed in this moment.
Shane's hands shook as he pulled your skirt up, revealing your bare ass to him. He gripped your hips tightly, positioning himself between your legs. His eyes locked onto yours, filled with a raw intensity that made your heart race even faster.
"You think I don't know how much you want this?" he growled, his voice low and gravelly. "How much you crave my cock inside you? You can deny it all you want darling, but I see the way you look at me. The way you flaunt yourself around, knowing exactly what effect it has on me."
You bit your lip, unable to meet his gaze as shame and desire battled within you. You knew Shane was right - there had always been an undeniable attraction between you two, despite your frequent clashes. And now, here you were, about to be taken by force by the very man you couldn't help but fantasize about.
Shane's thrusts became more violent as he pulled your braids, his hips slamming against yours in a brutal rhythm that left you gasping for air. His rough hands dug into your soft flesh, leaving bruises and marks on your arms and shoulders. You struggled to maintain balance as he continued to pound into you, his cock stretching you wider than ever before. He drunkenly fucked your pussy, groaning and getting rougher with you by the second as you stumble and tremble beneath him, "Always acting so tough huh? Not so tough now darlin, ain't that right?”
#shane walsh fanfiction#shane twd#shane the walking dead#twd shane#the walking dead shane#shane walsh imagine#shane walsh twd#shane walsh#shane walsh headcannons#shane walsh smut#jon bernthal x reader#jon bernthal x you#jon bernthal#jon bernthal smut#im so wet#lily's daydreams <3
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|| Authority ||
Shane Walsh x female reader
Tags/warnings: dirty, sweaty, horny, Shane sex cos that's what I want.
Shane can't help chuckling at your stormy expression and demeanour as you pound an angered path towards the garage store where he's working.
“What's grinding your gears this time darlin’?” He asks, but you only shoot him a fierce scowl in answer.
“Aw nah, you been fightin’ with Rick again?” he guesses. You always had something to say about him almost every other day.
You clench your teeth before answering. “He won't let me lead a group to go check out that boarded up farm we passed a week or so ago. I know there must be some good stuff in there, maybe even fuel and tools!” You kick at the door frame in annoyance. “He says he doesn't think it's worth it, that it's too dangerous and that the others wouldn't listen to me or respect my authority on a trip out there anyway. Fuck him!”
Shane watches you winding yourself up in a rage, your fists bunching till your knuckles are showing through your skin.
“He thinks I'm green but I've got skills! I can help! Why does he have to be such a knowitall asshole lording it over all the rest of us? It ain't fair.”
He catches your wrist before you start punching the wall. “Hey, hey now. You gonna calm down before you break somethin’, like your goddamn fingers?”
You scrunch up your face in annoyance. “Depends. You gonna take his side and tell me I'm just a little girl who should shut up cos she doesn't know anything?”
He looks you straight in the eyes. “Nah, I know you're capable. You just gotta give Rick some time to trust you with it, that's all. Hell, I know he's a grouchy sonofabitch but the system's worked alright so far, huh?”
You growl in defeat.
He's got a point you guess, but it still rubs you up the wrong way how Rick seems to see you as nothing more than a nagging pain in his ass. “Would you follow orders from me, Shane?” you challenge.
He gives you that signature self-assured cocky smile of his. “You bet. I trust your judgement, sweetheart.”
You scoff, actually semi surprised by his seemingly honest response.
“Yeah, sure you would. Whatever.”
You watch him in silence as he moves crates of supplies, some full up with cans and other heavy items, stacking them up against the wall. His vest is damp with sweat, beads of moisture roll down his neck to his broad, glistening chest and you can't help licking your lips.
“Doesn't help that it's so fucking hot today,” you muse, tugging your own shirt away from your sticky skin. Then you settle on an idea.
“I'm going down to the lake. Come with me.”
Shane pauses, glances up. “I gotta finish up this shit…”
You plant your hands on your hips. “Come with me. That's an order, Shane.” You smirk and he catches on, putting the crate down and straightening up.
“S’that so?” He responds with an interested look and you nod.
“Y’said you'd follow my lead, so follow.” you quip, walking out into the blazing heat of the yard towards the gate.
“Might be walkers down there.” He says, grabbing his pistol and knife from the shelf and tucking them into the back of his pants.
You wave your hand carelessly back in his direction as you keep walking. You've got your own weapon on you. “I'm capable, remember?”
Shane rolls his eyes as he catches you up. He's not sure what he's letting himself in for but it's not a good idea to let you go off alone, especially if he expects you've got something to prove.
The lake was a godsend. A welcome actual oasis in this rabid and lethal world that you'd all found yourselves trying to survive. A perk of living in the camp and bearing Rick's questionable leadership. It was small, a now undammed creek running in to fill an old quarry, but it was fairly safe and utterly perfect for dip on a day like this.
The side you came in on had a grassy bank and a large tree growing near, giving some much needed shade before the ground turned to gravel and slate near the water. You scoped out the rim and the shimmering, inviting water for any signs of walkers and once satisfied it was clear, you turned to Shane, planting your palm firmly on his damp chest.
“You, stay.” You command, gesturing at him to sit down.
“What the hell? How come I don't get to cool off?” He complains as he reluctantly sits on the baking hot grass. You cross your arms at the hem of your shirt and tug it up over your head.
“You said you'd follow my orders, didn't you? Don't you trust me?” You grin, slinging your top over a low branch of the tree and then starting to unbutton your pants.
Shane watches unashamedly as you undress in front of him. You had brought him here after all, wanted him here for whatever reason, and he sure as hell wasn't about to complain about the current view he's got. His gaze roams over the curves of your near-naked body as you strip to your well-worn underwear. He's never seen this much of you before, and he likes it.
You make your way to the water's edge, shrieking and then humming with relief as the sudden cold hits your heated skin.
“So what the hell am I s’posed to do? It's as hot as all hell, even in the shade!” Shane calls out.
“Watch for walkers, idiot!” You yell back with a laugh, and wade in deeper into the lake until you can swim. It was such a treat to have this space relatively close to the camp, but it wasn't the only thing you had in mind…
Shane watches you enjoying yourself as he sweats under the tree. You had your own watchful eye on him, near salivating as he eventually pulled his vest off to reveal the rest of that deliciously toned torso.
When you're done you walk slowly out of the lake, shaking off your hair and stalking towards where Shane was lying on the bank. He pushes himself up on his hands, surprised as you straddle his hips, grunting as cool droplets of water fall from your body onto his.
“What are ya doin’?” He asks as you push him back down to lie flat on his back.
“Cooling you off.” You reply matter of factly as you rock your hips down on his crotch, feeling his cock beginning to harden rapidly through your wet panties.
“Yeah?” His voice is husky, his hands finally landing at your waist as you lean in close, grinding yourself against his cock again, feeling him twitch.
“When I first came here, Rick told me to stay away from you, y'know? Said you were dangerous…”
“Fuck…” Shane curses, his fingers gripping at your damp skin and eyes flicking between the sight of your hardened nipples poking through your bra and your wiggling hips on his. “You doin’ this to get back at him or somethin’?” He asks with a slight strain in his voice.
“No...”
Your own fingers start to explore and trail over his chest, scratching briefly at his nipples and on down those washboard abs to hook under the waistband of his pants. You can't help yourself, leaning down, your tongue sliding out between your lips to lick up the layer of sweat from between his pecs. You close your eyes as the satisfying taste of his salty musk hits your taste buds and both you and Shane moan. You lick and kiss your way up to the side of his neck and nip at his earlobe, purring out your desire.
“I just wanted you to fuck me.”
His eyes gleam a dark amber in the sun as he looks up at you. “Yeah? Is that an order too?”
“Do you want it to be?”
You teased the question but he wastes no time, scrabbling quickly to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, pulling his thick cock out of his underwear as you shimmy out of your panties. You'd need to be fast, this was all the foreplay you needed. You couldn't risk any of the others from the camp wandering down here and finding you both.
He was just as big as you had imagined. You weren't at all surprised with the way he would nearly always stride dick first through the camp. When you could, you'd sometimes pass any quiet moments watching him work, whether it was swinging an axe to cut firewood, or patrolling up on the wall. Even if he could be smarmy and bullish he was prime eye candy for sure, and you wanted a taste.
“God… damn.” Shane hisses as you sink down on him, your bodies now as one, feeling your tight, wet heat gripping around his throbbing length. Air leaves your lungs in a gasp as you start to move up and down, and Shane moves his hips upwards in quick, powerful thrusts to meet yours. “Shit… god-fucking-damn!”
“Fuck, Walsh!” You moan as he's stimulating the deepest parts of you, his hands firm on your hips, fingers pressing in harder..
“S'at good?” He grits out, captivated by the feel and look of you moving above him with abandon.
“So good-” you whine. He shifts forward, ducking his head to mouth at the softness of your breasts spilling over your bralet.
“Oh you like that, huh?” he snarls, “yeah, jus’ like that?” He leans back again so he can pound into you even harder, gritting his teeth, beads of sweat rolling down his face and neck to pool at his collarbones with the effort. He snatches the cups of your bra down, letting your tits bounce around, squeezing them hard before he drops one hand down to where your bodies meet, his thumb desperately rubbing sloppy circles over your slick, swollen pearl.
The dry grass presses into your knees as you fuck, your pussy starting to flutter as the tightness at the core of you builds so quickly. You haven't had any form of intimacy for so long that everything you're feeling now is intense, sharp, and needed.
“Don't you dare stop!” You threaten, riding his cock even faster as you near your edge.
Shane is panting, hips bucking wildly.
“Shit-shit-shit baby I'm gonna cum, aw fuck I'm gonna-”
You lift up off of him and rapidly switch to frantically rubbing your pussy and clit along the length of his cock, seconds later his mouth is forming a silent ‘o’ and his pulsing dick is shooting stripes of creamy white over his stomach and chest between you as you topple over with him. Shane hooks his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down and smashing your hot mouths together as you both shudder through your orgasms with a deep shared moan.
You push off of him, laying on your back to his side, both of you panting ragged breaths with the heat and exertion.
“Fuck… oh christ.”
Your satisfied hum turns to laughter when you hear Shane's curses yet again.
“So, do you like a woman that knows what she wants an’ orders you around, Walsh?”
He grumbles, gingerly sitting up and wincing at the sweaty, messy state he's in. “Mm, I guess only when it's me that she wants.”
He gets up and strips off his boots and pants, and you watch as he takes his gorgeous ass into the lake to wash, dunking his entire body and scrubbing his hands over his face and closely shaved head. You soon follow and when you're done you put your now-dry clothes back on in a silence only disturbed by birdsong and the sound of the bubbling creek.
“We should get back.” You say redundantly, breaking the sudden tension that had formed.
“Yeah.” Shane agrees, not meeting your eyes.
You awkwardly part ways back at the gate, and when you're on shift up on the wall later that night you can't help wondering if you miscalculated, made a mistake.
“Hey.”
You almost jump out of your skin as Shane sneaks up behind you.
You calm your racing heart as you move the barrel of the gun away from him. “Jesus christ, don't do that, I could have killed you!”
He just smirks, holding his hands up in surrender. “Well now I wasn't lookin' for that.” He drawls, and you soften.
“So what were you looking for?”
"You had any more run-ins with Rick today?"
"Uh... no? Why?" You reply, slightly confused.
He shrugs, eyes flitting between the gun you're holding and you. “Just been wonderin’, if maybe you wanna order me around some more?”
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A long road ahead
Shane Walsh x Female!Reader
summary: bored in the car with your boyfriend you decide to make the drive a bit more fun for both of you.
warnings: pet names, explicit language, explicit content, teasing, exhibitionism, masturbation, oral sex, unprotected sex, car sex, pure smut, not much plot to it
word count: 2.2k
a/n: i literally got the idea and then sat down and wrote it in like the same day? Had to get it out of the system before I work on some bigger projects, hope you'll enjoy it!
You watch the not so well, lit road from the passenger's seat of your car while Shane drives you both to a little party at one of your old friend's place, a couple of cities over. It's not a short drive, but you figured it won't be too bad on a Friday evening, and you quickly realize your assumption was correct. It's not bad, but it is boring, the road is long, and you start to get bored...quickly.
You turn to your boyfriend, watching as he skips through the radio station for a bit before setting on something that seemed semi familiar to both of you. He clears his throat, tilting his head to the side, as he goes back to watching the road in front of him. Your eyes linger on his arms for a bit, the fabric of his t-shirt tight around his bicep as he grips the steering wheel after changing the gear. You trace your eyes down his body, from his rough side profile, over that pretty neck, down to his broad shoulders, his chest and the down and down and lower until you stop right between his legs.
Your mind wanders, pretty quickly finding its way back to yours and Shane's favorite ways of passing the time together, and you suck your lower lip in between your teeth.
Watching him for another moment, with your mind occupied by the memories of his body, your hand slowly finds it way under your dress and make up your mind the second your boyfriend's voice brings you back to him.
“You okay?”
He asks, eyebrows pulled together as he turns from the road to you and back to the road again.
“Yeah.”
You answer quickly, and he glances over at you again, scrunching his nose up slightly as he does his best to figure out if you mean it or not.
“You sure?”
“I'm fine, Shane, watch the road.”
You instruct him, and he does as he's told. After turning to face the window on your side of the car, you prop your head in your palm and watch the dark buildings pass by behind the glass. It doesn't take more than a couple of minutes for your brain to wander back into the place Shane managed to, oh so effortlessly, pull you out off.
Rubbing your thumb over your thigh, you slowly move your palm higher and higher up your leg before pushing it under the fabric of your dress.
“What are-”
Shane starts, catching your hand move out the corner of his eye, but chokes on his own words once he turns his head to look at you, his eyes immediately falling between your legs. His jaw drops, eyes widen when he registers the subtle movements of your hand under the fabric, and you take this opportunity to make the ride a bit more interesting for both of you. Lifting your ass up from the seat, you quickly pull your black panties down, opening your legs slightly to allow them to fall onto the floor of the car.
“Shit-”
He curses, dropping his hand to the now, growing bulge in his jeans, doing his best to keep the car in the right lane without looking at the road too much.
“Wait- wait wait wait - fuck what-”
He tries, but you speak over him.
“I'm sooooo fucking bored, Walsh.”
You tease him with a whine, pulling the dress up just enough for him to catch the glimpse of your pussy before finally touching yourself properly.
Humming, satisfied with the sensation, you rub your fingers over your center for a moment before spreading your legs open some more to focus on the clit.
“Shane! The road!”
You point out after a moment, realizing he probably didn't look away from you since the panties brushed over your ankles. He doesn't listen, reaching his hand over to your side, trying to touch you.
“Don't-”
You push his hand away, and nod towards the road in front of the car.
“Walsh! You want me to call the cops on you? Watch the damn road!"
You warn, hand never slipping away from your center as you address him directly.
“God- fuck-, god damn it!”
He huffs, slamming his hand into the steering wheel, frustrated as he focuses back on not causing a major car wreck before reaching over and pushing your hand away from your pussy.
“Don't fucking do that then.”
He warns you, and you give him a shocked smirk.
"Or?"
You push your hips forward, the hand immediately back between your legs.
"Hey! What'd I just say, what-"
Shane glances between you and the road, trying to focus on both things at once, but you won't let him win.
"What'd i say?!"
He warns, harsh, loud voice fills the car but, you know him, it doesn't work on you.
Propping your knee on the ledge by the window, you spread your legs open even more, making sure to turn in his direction slightly, wanting him to get the best view possible.
“Oh, I don't know...didn't hear you."
You point out as you continue to rub your fingers over your clit, feeling the warmth between your legs growing more and more the more you touched yourself, but most likely the more he watched you do it. It wasn't the first time you did shit of this sort in the car, but it was the first time you decided to not let touch you, at least not yet. You wanted to tease and get to him, and that's exactly what you wear doing. Judging by the now, completely hard cock staining against the fabric of his jeans, you deserved some praise.
You moan theatrically, earning yourself another “made you look" point before, he glares into the mirror and onto the side of the road.
“I'm pulling over-.”
“Don't!”
You protest.
"Yeah, you think I'm gonna listen to you now?"
He mumbles, eyebrow raised as he glares at you and into the mirror again.
"Think I'm gonna-"
“You pull over, I'll stop. You got that?”
He turns to you quickly one more time, and you know if looks could kill, Shane Walsh would be a murdered right now.
“You're on- real thin ice right now, you know that-”
He warns you, but you manage to cut him off yet again, the wet sounds of your fingers slipping inside you cuts off any sort of communication between his brain and his lips.
You watch the way his knuckles turn white against the steering wheel as you continue to do to yourself, what he wishes he was doing right now, when the car suddenly stops.
The intersection feels like a gift from God when the red light forces him to stop the truck.
Fighting with the buckle of his belt with one hand, he undoes the seatbelt and leans over to your side of the car before ducking down, between your legs. You slip your fingers out and lift your hips up slightly to make it easier while he grunts into you. Your mouth falls open and eyes shut tight when you feel his tongue press hard against your sensitive clit.
“Oh shit- oh shit.”
You push his head harder against you, the short, buzzed hair prickling your palm while he hums loudly, licking up your slick. Digging your nails into his back, you attempt to pull him even closer, feeling the climax building up deep under your bellybutton. You don’t even dare to think about it too much, but to be completely honest, you’re pretty sure, despite the late hour, if someone looked at the car even for a moment, they’d figure out what was going on.
“Shane-”
You half gasp, half moan when the green hue of the streetlight snaps you out of the pleasant moment.
“Fuck- Shane!”
Taping the side of his head with your hand, you attempt to get his attention, but he only lifts his head up once the car behind you hooks impatient.
“Fuuu-”
He pushes his head up, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand quickly before doing his best to frantically get the car in gear before stepping on the gas. Your slick shines on his lips in the lights of the streetlamps while he speeds down the main road, pushing his hand into his boxers at the same time. You watch the fabric move as he strokes his cock again and again and again, biting into your lower lip at the site
“Pull over.”
You finally get the words out, feeling way too close to stop now, but not wanting to come without him.
“I'm fuckin- tryin-”
He almost shouts now, glancing around the car's surroundings.
“Shane…”
You warn, and he catches your hips buck up, pussy clenching around nothing, the last straw.
“Fuck- don't, wait, god fucking-”
The car jerks to the side as he cuts through the two lanes and comes to a sudden stop on a small dirt road off the side of the main one. It's, in no way, secluded, not any more than the main road, but neither of you care enough for that fact to stop you. Not at this point.
You pull your hand away from yourself and Shane yanks his jeans and boxers down, his cocks springing out, hard for you already, before he pushes his seat back enough to make room for you.
“Fuck, fuck f- c'mere darlin' c'mon-“
He grabs onto your arm desperately, helping you throw your leg over the middle of the car, and you wait exactly half a second for him to line his cock up with your entrance before taking him in at the same time as he bucks up into you.
“Oh shit- oh shit, god-fuck!”
He curses under his breath as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate to his size. His hands drop to your hips, under the dress, fingers digging into your ass when you begin to ride him, both of you working on the deep thrusts. You throw your arms over his neck, head falling back slightly, your nails on his back again as you feel his cock drag out of you before pushing in, nudging right under your stomach on the inside.
His lips find yours as the trusts speeds up and so does your breathing. You taste yourself on him and hum into the kiss before he pulls away, pushing his face into your neck with a loud grunt as he feels himself almost falling over the edge now.
“Fuck-fuck- oh shit- “
As his hips speed up even more, he pushes his hand between your bodies, and you feel his fingers on your clit.
A loud moan lets him know they're in the right place, and he scoffs loudly, smiling wide as he watches you fall apart on top of him.
Your climax hits, harder than you've anticipated, definitely harder than what you've expected when you slipped your hand under your dress a couple miles ago, and he lets you ride the high out on his cock before finally letting himself come as well.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck-”
You grip onto his torso as he fucks through your body's post orgasm clenches, listening to the wet sounds filling the car. He grunts, loud, really loud, and you know he's there.
“Ohhhh there he iiiiis. Good boy Walsh!”
You tease immediately after, not really giving him even a second to catch his breath. Resting his forehead against yours, he pants loudly, swallowing hard as he does his best to speak up now.
“Fuck you.”
He mumbles, and you laugh out loud, pressing your lips into his before dragging your hand down his face to clean him up a little bit.
“Again? You wish”
He scoffs loudly this time, rolling his eyes at your words, before wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you even closer to him.
“Think anyone saw us?”
He asks after you sit in silence for a moment, your body rising and falling with his chest, your fingers scratching the back of his neck gently, his hands on your lower back under the fabric of the dress, thumbs brushing softly over your skin.
You shrug, not really sure if it honestly matters much to you.
“The car behind us at the stop light?”
He laughs loudly, looking off to the side, out the window and back at you.
“Yeah, shit. S'what i though too.”
You breathe out a laugh and shrug your shoulders.
“Well, if they did, then…lucky them, I guess.”
Shane nods, approving of your answer with a quiet chuckle, and you smile at the sound.
“Lucky them.”
He repeats before sighing loudly.
“Christ…don't know how we didn't fucking crash.”
He mumbles, holding your hand as you stand up and pull off of his cock before falling back onto your seat before he slowly and gently tucks his cock back into him boxers then pulls his jeans up.
“Should we try the party still?”
He asks, watching you lean down to pick something up from the floor.
“Eeeh I don't know.”
You state, not even turning to face him before hanging your lacy black panties over the mirror before turning to face him again.
“Your choice Walsh. We still have a bit to go."
#shane walsh#shane walsh x reader#shane walsh smut#jon bernthal#shane walsh fanfiction#jon bernthal fanfiction#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#jon bernthal smut
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“wouldn’t kill ya’ to smile, wouldn’t it, baby?”
your gaze goes upward from the fire you’re building to the man standing before you.
“fuck is there to smile about?” you quip quietly, pursing your lips and turning your attention back to the task at hand.
you should’ve known that would set off your ex boyfriend. the boyfriend who should really be your ex right now. you feel him behind you and eventually in front of you when he leans down to gently grasp your face. shane tilts your chin upwards in his hand while you simply glare.
“been gettin’ real tired of your attitude.”
“makes two of us.”
something in his eyes clouds and you can nearly see the frustration bubbling beneath his surface. “you know you could really have it worse somewhere else, girl.” he lets go of your chin. “you should be happy to be here and not out there alone.”
you can’t argue with him. after these past few weeks, you’d endure whatever macho act he manufactured just to make it to safety. anything at this point to get to richmond. wherever noah’s family was posted up had to be better than cannibal country or cop city.
playing the role of shane’s personal diplomat is exhausting but it’s kept conflict from escalating more than once. without you, he would’ve for sure gotten himself killed by now. it goes both ways as you can count on more than one hand the number of times he’s saved your life.
“we had a home. we’re gonna find a new one. until then you better be thankful to have someone looking out for you.” the man explains to you. “someone takin’ care of you.”
you snort. “you should be happy i let you fuck me.”
your boyfriend’s nostrils flare. “wanna repeat that?”
you don’t spare him a glance. “be happy i haven’t left you already. if it wasn’t the fucking end of times, our relationship would be toast.” you say that like it isn’t already.
but you didn’t leave him. how could you with the world falling apart around you?
and with your newfound sense of responsibility to lori and carl, staying with shane made the most sense. why not keep trying with someone who held you at night and fought tooth and nail to protect you.
that isn’t everything though.
he narrows his eyes at you. “wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t always findin’ one.”
“you fucking lori was a problem that i found?”
he throws his hands up. “why the fuck do you keep mentionin’ lori? that’s fucked,” he scolds your name. “that’s my daughter’s mother.”
“i’m not blaming her, i’m blaming you.” you discern. “you’ve been an asshole ever since everything happened.”
“c’mere.” shane pulls you to your feet and drags you away from the fire, leaving the task to sasha who’d been sitting nearby. shane has you on your feet and moving towards the back of the rest stop your group was posted up l in. “let’s take a walk.”
“shane! i’m about to make dinner over the fire,” you complain and pull back your arm but shane just wraps you in his embrace and wills you towards the grassy picnic area facing the forest.
“c’mon, one step at a time, baby. don’t make me carry you.”
“fucker.”
“watch it,” shane warns and steers you towards a dusty wooden gazebo where rick is standing with a radio, trying to get a signal from the looks of it.
“any luck?” shane calls out like he didn’t just forcibly walk you from the fire circle out here.
the bearded man turns around. he doesn’t have to shake his head or give you two a word to answer his friend’s question. an icy blue stare goes over you and shane.
“what’s going on?”
“oh, we just thought we’d see what you were up to. see if you were busy.” the ex-cop with his arms wrapped around you from behind declares.
rick drops his radio into his back pocket. “‘m not.”
“perfect. this one wants to thank you.”
rick’s dark brow goes up in question and you shake your head, asking, “huh?”
“what? you don’t wanna thank rick? don’t be rude, baby.”
you owe the man your life a million times over.
rick had saved you, shane, judith, carl, and the others so many times. he’d led you through the debilitating winters and the most nightmare inducing storms you could imagine facing in the end of times. metaphorical or not, rick had seen you all through more than you’d ever pay him back for.
the man who stayed up with you while you settled judith and helped you soothe the little girl who didn’t belong to either of you.
the rugged man looks on from shane to you not quite comprehending. it only takes the feel of shane’s hand on your ass to understand.
fuck. not now, shane, you plead internally.
“i want you to show our friend rick how grateful you are that he’s gotten us this far. huh?” shane places a steel hand on your back as he shoves you forward towards rick, nudging you onto your knees when you’re dawdling too much for him to tolerate. “go on.”
“shane.” the man above you warns.
“no, rick.” your boyfriend stops him, dark irises widening. “i see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. don’t feel bad about it.” he chuckles. “think about it as payback for lori.”
a “what the fuck” is breaching your lips before you know it.
“why do you talk to her like that?” rick questions, chest puffing out slightly. “everything she’s stood you through.”
shane shrugs. “i’m just thinkin’ it’d help us all relax. lower tension, y’know. after we were almost slaughtered like cattle back there.”
your mind flashes to terminus. you hadn’t seen rick, shane, and some of the other men of your group tied up and prepared to have their throats slashed, but the scene made your stomach flip.
rick looks down at you, maybe considering the fact that he does have a lot of steam to let off. nearly a year’s worth to be honest.
“you been thinkin’ about me?” he inquires with a step closer to you, dipping his hand to cup your face.
beneath your leader, you feel small. ten feet tall, you’d feel insignificant compared to rick. that man has more guts and drive than you could ever admit to. more than shane could ever dream of. the thought scratches an itch you didn’t realize lay dormant.
“yes,” you exhale sweetly, almost giving away your giggle when shane has to pick up his jaw. “especially ever since the prison fell.”
“really?”
you nod. “thank you, rick.” you express your gratitude with parted lips. “you take such good care of all of us. if you really want to use my mouth, i would blow you.”
shane is stuttering a curse and rick just whistles.
“good girl,” shane praises. “never knew you had it in you.”
you wait on your knees for rick, beaming up at him.
rick has the look of a man considering letting his best friend’s girlfriend - who he has at least fifteen years on - blow him. he thumbs your soft lips, trying to convince himself not to. even under that newly acquired hardened exterior, rick is calculated.
it’s not until he lowers his hands at his sides and croons a, “only if you want to, darlin,” that has you undoing his belt and yanking down his pants.
you slow your roll once you come into contact with his underwear. beneath those dark blue boxers is a rock hard cock.
a noise escapes you that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t hear. rick is bigger than shane. you want to burst into laughter. shane had to have seen the outline of rick’s thick cock sometime during their years together in some locker room somewhere.
thoughts of if he’ll fit or not consume you momentarily until your hands are moving automatically and you’re met with the real thing. you feel hands in your hair and tense.
“down and up. you know how to do it.”
shane is behind you with his sturdy hands on top of your head, ready to guide you down onto his friend.
“just let her do what she wants.” rick snaps at the other man, exhaling at the feel of your hand around him.
“fine.” shane throws his hands up and goes to lean against the rest stop information board.
ever the sore loser, shane pouts but lets you sink further on your knees to begin by trailing a stripe from rick’s balls up to the tip of his cock. back down you go again to lick circles around him, working a pattern with your tongue.
the noises coming out of rick have you agreeing with shane - he really needs this. after everything, rick deserves to close his eyes and let you descend below his shaft to suckle first one side, then the other, while he lays his hands in your lustrous hair.
eventually you’re lapping around again and you circle your tongue around him, eyes widening in surprise at his moans.
shane snickers. “you like her mouth, rick? me too. don’t blow your load too early, bud, i know you probably can’t help it.”
you feel the man in your mouth tense above you. he ignores shane, snapping his hips lightly into your face instead. despite the initial humiliation of the situation and the shane of it all, you find yourself getting excited. a wet patch forms and you can tell by how hard you grind down onto yourself as rick starts to twitch.
“needy slut,” shane comments.
you roll your eyes, not missing a beat as you bob up and down on your leader. his spit covered dick disappears in and out of your mouth. you do your best to fit what you can of his length that is too large for your mouth.
rick doesn’t have a problem though. all he needs is to dig a little deeper in your hair and angle his cock down your throat. you’re so startled you gag but at the same time you moan and whimper around him.
a cry around him from a particularly harsh jostle of his pelvis against your face is what it takes to start spilling in your mouth. your foggy brain can barely decipher what to do next but you remember that you’re wearing one of your favorite sweaters and suck him dry.
rick isn’t out of your mouth when shane is nearly shoving him out of the way and grasping onto you, directing your head towards his now nude dick.
“my turn,” shane takes rick’s spot instantly, not sparing you more than a breath or two before his girthy cock is against your lips.
“that’s not good for her knees, man.” rick is saying but shane just laughs.
“you weren’t sayin’ that when you were in the one in her mouth.”
shane is taking up your mouth before you know it and you gag immediately when he drives like he’s aiming for your uvula.
your noises muffle around his cock but the sheriff looking on still hears them - is still affected by then. every pump of his fellow ex-officer’s hips made you gag, forced to swallow the burning feeling building up in your throat.
rick can’t take his eyes off you. after receiving the same treatment, he’s still mesmerized by the whole thing; the spontaneity of it, how absurd it all was, how soft and plush your mouth had been, how perfect you are.
“never knew you were such a whore,” shane groans with a gasp of your name, pushing your head down when you start to slide up and off of him to say something. “fuck, you’re so good for me, baby, always have been.”
his grip is buried in your long hair. rick observes with his half hard cock in his hand, eyebrow arching lightly at the sight of shane’s face. your boyfriend tightens his grip and before you know it his cock is thrust into your throat. a few more slams of his hips and he’s holding you firmly while you gulp down his length - and his release.
shane backs out of your mouth only to snake a rough hand down your pants.
“shane!” you’re nearly squealing when he thumbs down your panties and moves towards your sensitive patch of nerves. your face is overtaken with a blush again as your leader palms his hard on on the bench next to you.
whispering low in your ear, your boyfriend hums;
“now, you wanna show rick how grateful you are with your pussy?”
#the walking dead#rick grimes#shane walsh#rick grimes x reader#shane walsh x reader#rick grimes smut#shane walsh smut#twd imagine#twd smut#rick grimes imagine#rick x reader#not beta read#threes0me#f/m/m#blowy#shane survives to season 5#alternate universe#pretty rough#big dick rick grimes#twd#roadside mess = these three#grimesgirll#ditzy thought fr#shane warning!!
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𝐏𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐈𝐧-𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝
Summary ➳ With a suspended license, you took the risk of picking up your brothers from a bar and when caught, Officer Walsh gives you a choice.
(A/n) ➳ I just realized that I’m still on season 3… I might end up rewatching season 1 and 2… Yeah, I’m rewatching it.
Word Count ➳ 1.4k
Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, NO OUTBREAK, DARK SHANE, DARK CONTENT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, sexual content, , heavy profanity, mentions of drugs, alcohol use, oral (M), abuse of power, face-fucking, dacryphilia, hair pulling…
DARK CONTENT UNDER THE CUT. MDNI 18+
“Don’t be blamin’ me you damn dipshits!” You shouted over the phone as you struggled to boot your boots on. “How the hell did he even get kicked out?” You threw on your jacket.
“The hell was I supposed to know he was gonna get drunk?”
“You’re with him!”
“Jus’ get yer damn ass over ‘ere!”
“My license is suspended! Where’s your car?!
“The piece of shit broke down! It’s late, the cops ain’t gonna do anythin’.”
“Easy for you to fuckin’ say.” You groaned, grabbing Merle’s truck keys and walking out of the door. You angrily hung up on him, cutting off his cursing at Merle and loudly crashing.
You shoved the worn out key into the ignition, and felt that familiar click. You turned the key and waited for the engine to turn on. There’s a low rumble but then a silence.
You grumbled and turned the key again, it grumbled a little louder this time but nothing. “For fuck’s sake!” You shouted and tried it again, finally it turned on.
You changed gears and backed out of the driveway, and hurriedly drove to the only bar closest to where you all lived.
You again changed gears and turned on the radio as an attempt to calm down, but you knew it wasn’t helping when you were still cursing about Merle. You gripped the worn out steering wheel, trying to tune out the strange rumbling from the engine.
Urgency ran through your veins, and you didn’t pay attention to how fast you were going. It was nearly midnight, barely anyone was on the road.
From the familiar signs, you were at the outskirts of the town, just a couple of minutes away.
“Dammit!” You smacked the steering wheel as the red and blue lights appeared right behind you. A wave of uneasiness overcomes your anger, the last thing you wanted to was be arrested for evading the police.
The flashing lights illuminated the dark road as you pulled over, bringing the truck to a park. You can see from the mirror the officer leaving his car and speak to his radio.
You rolled down your window as he approached the truck, leaning towards the window. “Evenin’, ma’am. What brings you out here so late?”
You contained your frustration and put on a smile. “Just tryin’ to pick up my brothers from a bar.”
You felt like he stared longer than he should, you could see him scanning the inside of the truck, taking note of various Merle’s stuff scattered across the back seat.
“License and registration.” He asked.You reached over and opened the glove box and handed him your registration. He took the paper and lifted an eyebrow. “License?”
“Look officer…?” You looked at his badge but he beat you to it.
“Walsh.”
“Walsh, I don’t have it.”
You could see the disappointment in his eyes, he pulled out his pen and notepad. “Name and birthdate?”
“(Y/n) Dixon-”
“Dixon? Which would make you related to Merle Dixon?”
You reluctantly nodded. “Yes, he’s my brother. Look, I ain’t got time to talk. Can’t I just-”
“I’m assumin’ this ain’t your truck.” Before you could say anything else, he began to circle the truck with a lit flashlight in hand.
“Fuck me.” You mumbled, knowing Merle, he probably had some illegal substances hiding in wherever. “Fuck you Merle.” You cannot have a drug charge on your record, you could not have that.
“Can you step out of the vehicle for me?” He said out loud, coming back to the door.
“Officer-”
“Don’t make this difficult, Dixon.” He took a couple steps back, a hand on his hip as he waited for you. You unbuckled your seatbelt, turned off the truck and stepped out of it. “You have anythin’ you hidin’?” He questioned you.
“Nope.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
Shane smirked, turning off his flashlight. “You know what happens when you drive without a license?”
“Officer Walsh, my brothers need me to pick them up. Just write me a ticket and let me be on my way.”
“Drivin’ late at night, without a license? You know how dangerous it is?” He said. “Givin’ you a ticket ain’t gonna be enough.”
“Officer-”
“I’ll give you two choices.” Shane maneuvered around you, shutting the truck door, blocking the door. “I can arrest you and get you booked which could take…” He counted using his fingers. “A hour to a couple hours-”
“Then arrest me-”
“Minus waitin’ for your case.” Shane lowered his hands, grinning. “Or…” His hands reach for his belt, ready to unbuckle it. “You can get on your knees.”
“The hell I am-!”
Shane loudly hushed you. “You want me to turn a blind eye?”
You stumbled over your words, a mix of excuses and curses. But the shit eating grin was still on his face and when you took a glance at his crotch, he was already hard.
“You’re disgustin’.”
Shane shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Be a good girl, Dixon. Don’t be keepin’ your brothers waitin’.” He pulled himself out of his pants, and pumped himself slowly. “Get on your knees.”
“Fuck me.” You muttered under your breath, doing as he said.
“Don’t tempt me.”
You rolled your eyes and took him into your hands, jerking him off with a disgusted look on your face. You refused to look at him or his cock, keeping your gaze on the ground.
From base to head, you stroked, twisting your hand around it.
You wished to yourself that he would quickly cum and get on with your night. You tried to focus on something else and hoped that if anyone did pass by they wouldn’t see.
Shane grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled it back roughly, a gasp lifted your lips. He shoved his thumb into your mouth as the rest of his fingers held your face.
He breathed heavily and plunged himself into your mouth. He forced you down to the base, his pubic hair itching your nose, making it scrunch. His hips began to buck and your jaw slacked.
Your hand clutched his pants, your nails digging into them. Your eyes shut tightly as each time he touched the back of your throat, you gagged.
Your saliva dripped down your chin, and when he tugged at your hair, you whimpered. The pain was unbearable as he took joy in seeing you in pain, your hot tears spilled from the corners of your eyes.
“You’ve done this before?” Shane sneered at you, throwing his head back and moaning quite loudly. It was like he didn’t care if he got caught. “You sure have a fuckin’ talent!”
Shane didn’t care for any discomfort you were feeling, all the stress that Merle and Daryl caused in the past was being taken out on you.
He pulled back until it’s just the head of his cock in your mouth then thrusted back in. Again and again, his hand tight in your hair, thrusting as hard and deep as he could and his cock glistening with saliva.
“Look at me.” He panted. “C’mom, look at me.”
Your eyes fluttered open, your eyes snapped to his, watery and wide, full of anger.
He cursed at you, biting down on his lip as the orgasm builded in him. He then held your head still as he was so far deep that your body jerked.
Shane gave out a loud grunt as he came inside and down your throat. You started to choke, you punched his thigh a couple of times before he threw you off him.
You hit the ground, coughing. You hissed and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. The salty and bitter taste in your mouth made you retch.
He let out a sigh of relief, tucking himself back into his pants. “Drive safely ma���am.” He laughed once again as he walked to his car. Once you were sure he drove off, you picked yourself up from the ground and quickly drove to the bar.
“Took yer sweet ass time!” Daryl shoved an unconscious Merle into the backseat before getting into the passenger side. “The hell happened?”
“Cops.” You packed out of the parking spot and drove, trying to focus on the road.
“Anythin’ happen? Ya alright?”
“Yeah, let me off with a warnin’.”
“Seriously-?”
“I’m tired Daryl. Just let me get this asshole home.” You couldn’t focus, not without the bitter taste in your mouth, drowning out Daryl’s attempts to wake his brother for his phone.
© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission
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