Shane Walsh Smut - Tumblr Posts
Masterlist
RICK X READER
make up sex
angst
romantic smut
very fluffy rick
first time
rough sex
daddy kink
smuttttt
rick x reader x daryl
hot and bothered
Get on your knees!
Daddy
DARYL X READER
daryl comforts reader after line-up with Negan
Jealous
romantic daryl smut
fuck buddies
fuck buddies part two
angst and fluff
jealous, protective and angry daryl
heart break very angsty
sad angst
death- angst
S7E8 reunion
videogames
cause once upon a time you were my everything
we understand each other
the blackest day
angst and smut
You promise? I promise. part one part two part three
I surrender
Broken
S7EP12
The Beginning of The End of The World
One Mississipi
Cheater
Abuse part one / part two
The Sheriffs Daughter
Rescue
Stop Pushing Me Away
Scars
The Night We Met
SHANE X READER
smut during target practice
smut at the CDC with some fluff
smut in tent with some fluff
cute reunion fluff
smut
MERLE X READER
you might just be the goddamn death of me part one
you might just be the goddamn death of me part two
merle fluff-reader has a nightmare
smut
angst and fluff
The dixons
fluff
more merle smut
CARL X READER
first time together
dominant reader
Pregnant
Negan
Rick x reader x Negan
Negan x Reader x Daryl
Death at Birth
OTHERS
reader is ricks younger sister and has a drug problem /// part two
rick is your father, family reunion
family reunion part two
reunited with the group at the line-up //// part two
maggie and glenn try to protect you (their daughter) from Negan
dealing with Glenns death
Rick saves negans life
Masterlist
RICK X READER
make up sex
angst
romantic smut
very fluffy rick
first time
rough sex
daddy kink
smuttttt
rick x reader x daryl
hot and bothered
Get on your knees!
Daddy
DARYL X READER
daryl comforts reader after line-up with Negan
Jealous
romantic daryl smut
fuck buddies
fuck buddies part two
angst and fluff
jealous, protective and angry daryl
heart break very angsty
sad angst
death- angst
S7E8 reunion
videogames
cause once upon a time you were my everything
we understand each other
the blackest day
angst and smut
You promise? I promise. part one part two part three
I surrender
Broken
S7EP12
The Beginning of The End of The World
One Mississipi
Cheater
Abuse part one / part two
The Sheriffs Daughter
Rescue
Stop Pushing Me Away
Scars
The Night We Met
SHANE X READER
smut during target practice
smut at the CDC with some fluff
smut in tent with some fluff
cute reunion fluff
smut
MERLE X READER
you might just be the goddamn death of me part one
you might just be the goddamn death of me part two
merle fluff-reader has a nightmare
smut
angst and fluff
The dixons
fluff
more merle smut
CARL X READER
first time together
dominant reader
Pregnant
Negan
Rick x reader x Negan
Negan x Reader x Daryl
Death at Birth
OTHERS
reader is ricks younger sister and has a drug problem /// part two
rick is your father, family reunion
family reunion part two
reunited with the group at the line-up //// part two
maggie and glenn try to protect you (their daughter) from Negan
dealing with Glenns death
Rick saves negans life
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.
⊹ ⋆ ꒰ఎ゚MOODBOARD ໒꒱ ⋆゚⊹
shane walsh x farmer’s daughter!reader

“c’mon, baby” shane kissed your neck softly while wrapping his arms around you in a back hug. “i didn’t mean to scream and scare you, you know that” his rough voice whispered in your ear while he pressed his chest against your back and you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your angry facade much longer. turning around, you looked up at him with your pretty doe eyes and he wasted no time in holding you by your waist, keeping you close to him. “i’ll make it up to you, doll” his hands descended to your ass, gripping strongly and in that moment you already forgave him.

⊹ ⋆ ꒰ఎ゚MOODBOARD ໒꒱ ⋆゚⊹
officer!shane walsh x reader

“everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officer” — playing dangerous by lana del rey ♡

⊹ ⋆ ꒰ఎ゚MOODBOARD ໒꒱ ⋆゚⊹
shane walsh x captured!reader

“honey, i’m home” you heard shane’s voice and soon enough, the front door being locked again. his footsteps getting closer to your shared bedroom where you laid with the couple of books he had brought you days ago as a gift. “there you are, i missed you” his eyes softened when he saw you, relieved to know you were still there. he took precautions, assured you it was safer for you to stay home and after months, you believed it. his rough hand caressed your cheek as he leaned down and gently kissed your forehead as natural it could be.

okay but why is there like no shane walsh fics on here like jon bernthal is so fucking fine. just look at him😩


don’t attack me but he is my all time favourite twd character… an inch before negan🤭
this is so HOT. i need more shane fics oh my god.
Motorcycle Shane-anigans
Summary: Annoying Shane was your favourite thing to do, except this time he exacts his revenge....
Pairing: Shane Walsh x reader
Warnings: Smut, rough sex, public sex, degradation(?), caught in the act

The day Y/N met Shane Walsh was the day her life changed forever. Whether it changed for better or for worse was still to be determined.
She had been on her own for some time by then, her brother and her best friend having already succumbed to the virus. She had been doing well by herself, relying on the survival skills her late father had taught her and had no plans to ever ally with anyone, content to live out the rest of her days alone.
Originally from Alabama, Y/N had chosen to travel rather than stay in one place, her logic being that she would be less likely to run out of supplies. Eventually, she found herself in Altlanta, Georgia where she came across the ramshackle group of survivors she came to call her family.
Although she hadn't intended on staying long after they had deemed her a non-threat and welcomed her, she was eventually drawn in. Y/N hadn't realised just how much she had missed the warmth and love brought by good company.
Among the group, she had immediately bonded with Glenn and Lori, whereas she had some... issues with other certain people. Namely Shane Walsh. The man infuriated her to her core. The former deputy was a single-minded, fearless man, and although Y/N knew he had the groups best interests at heart, he had a funny fucking way of showing it.
Y/N herself was a headstrong individual and often found herself clashing with Shane and his controlling manner. She had previously been a surgical resident, over halfway in her journey in becoming a registered surgeon. Y/N had saved countless lives, run her own O. R and managed to maintain a relatively healthy work-life balance while doing so, and refused to be ordered around by some random deputy who believed he knew better than her.
The bastard knew what he was doing too. He purposely provoked Y/N, as if he enjoyed making her want to tear her hair out. However, she endured, finding creative ways to get back at him.
On this particular occasion, she had stolen Shane's distinctive knife and popped the tires on Daryl's motorcycle after the two men had had a rather explosive argument, effectively framing Shane.
The following day, after a vigorous fight with Daryl, Shane appeared in front of Y/N, with a dark purple eye, at around mid-day as she organised the small amount of medical equipment they had.
Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of his beaten face, quickly regretting it as he grabbed her by the wrist and marched her to a secluded spot at the edge of the forest that surrounded them.
With camp in the near distance, the only other visible object was Daryl's motorcycle, parked beside a large oak tree. The direction Y/N was being dragged to.
"What the fuck Shane! I was busy, what the hell do you want?", she demanded, attempting to resist as he carried on.
"You think you can get away with this shit?", he questioned, gesturing vaguely to his bruised face. Y/N began to grow apprehensive as her anger began to wear off, hearing the pure rage in Shane's tone.
"What are you going to do? Huh?", she shot back, unthinking. "Gonna hit me back?"
He froze and Y/N suddenly began to regret every word she had ever uttered. He turned around and his glare was icy. He had let go of her wrist by now and was slowly advancing toward her, intruding in her space until they were chest to chest.
"What the hell are you doi-", Y/N was cut off by Shane, capturing her mouth with his in a fierce kiss. Their teeth clashed as they fought for dominance, neither conceding to the to the other.
Jesus Christ, she thought, he kisses like he fights. Holding nothing back. With the harsh swipes of his tongue Y/N felt her underwear begin to dampen, this was the most action she had gotten in over a year. All thoughts of pushing him away, swearing him off, screaming at him, faded as the kiss grew more and more passionate.
The kiss broke off and they stood staring silently at each other, their breathless pants echoing throughout the empty space. With a frustrated groan, Y/N dove back into another kiss, this one somehow becoming more vigorous than before.
"Oh, I fuckin' hate you", she breathed out, as Shane moved his mouth down to her neck, eliciting a surprised chuckle from the man. Her words quickly escalated into breathy moans as sucked on her most sensitive spot just below her ear, while grasping at her tits, twisting her sensitive nipples through her thin shirt. She would bet that there was a wet spot forming on her underwear by now, as she grinded against his solid thigh, the denim rubbing at her throbbing clit.
As he moved down her body, he tore each item of clothing off of her like it was on fire, grabbing at every inch of exposed skin he could find, while she struggled to get his shirt off. Finally, tearing the shirt off Y/N raked her nails down his back, relishing in the pained groans Shane let out in response.
Y/N nearly screamed in a strange mixture of pain and pleasure as Shane exacted his revenge, beginning to suck and bite at her hardened nipples, causing shocks to travel down her body, directly to her pulsating clit.
Y/N had failed to notice that while they were locked together, they had managed to stagger back and she now found herself pressed tightly against Daryl's motorcycle as Shane pulled her jeans down, her underwear with it. She jumped as she suddenly felt his thick fingers explore her soaking pussy, collecting some of her wetness before driving into her greedy opening.
The stretch of his large digits was excruciating but so, so fucking good, as they started to scissor in and out of her. Y/N bit into Shane's shoulder, trying to silence her desperate screams as he nailed her g-spot over and over again. Tears started to run down her face as the pure pleasure overwhelmed her.
As she reached out to free his straining dick, wishing to reciprocate the pleasure she was experiencing, Shane's fingers pulled out of her, slapping her hands away and she felt as if the world had turned underneath her feet when she was roughly swivelled around, her stomach now resting, on the seat of the motorcycle. Shane's still clothed cock pressed into her bare ass. Y/N's face warmed as she listened to the slurping sounds of Shane licking his fingers that had previously been inside of her, while his remaining hand pressed her firmly into the seat.
"Fucking delicous. ", he stated. Y/N's blush reached her chest and ears by now as both embarrassment and some sick sort of pride shot through her.
"Christ, Shane", her moans were almost gutteral by now as she became increasingly desperate to feel his fat cock deep inside her.
"How'd you like me now, Y/N?", he questioned, grinding into her.
Y/N could only moan in response, practically dripping by this point. Goddammit, she despised this man. But she was beyond caring about that, only thinking about satiating the need he had sparked in her. For God's sake she was so wet, it had started leaking down her thighs.
Suddenly, he pulled away from her, ready to protest, she attempted to turn around but was halted by Shane forcing her legs to widen further and pressing his now bare cock between them, her juices dropping down onto his dick.
She felt him grab his length. Finally, she thought. Y/N let out a high-pitched yelp as his fat cock-head slapped her clit a few times.
"Get on with it, you fuckin' dick", she groaned, tired of his teasing, longing for something more.
This elicited another enraging chuckle from him.
"Is this what you wanted, darlin'?"
She hardly even registered his words when he positioned himself right at her drenched opening and oh. The only thought capable of running through Y/Ns mind in this crucial, world-bending moment was 'oh'. The feel of Shane's thick length as it split her open was bordering on painful and yet with the pain came indescribable pleasure. She swore she could feel him all the way in her stomach, she was so full. His calloused palms gripped her tits tightly, as he slowly but surely thrusted into her soaking core from behind, letting out barely audible groans of pleasure.
The thought of being bent over Daryl's motorcycle, ass out, as Shane fucked into her, on the edge of the green forest, where anyone back at camp could hear, was one that inspired intense anxiety and apprehension into Y/N, her worst nightmare. But the reality? Oh, the reality felt like the sweetest fucking dream.
"You like that? My cock pounding into your tight little cunt?" he panted out. She could feel herself flush, the heat reaching her ears. Shane's words sparked something deep inside her, making her grow wetter and wetter. The only sounds that could be heard throughout the desolate forest were the wet sounds of his hips slapping loudly against her ass and Y/N's desperate moans as her clit rubbed against the rough leather seat.
"Answer me.", his voice was rough as he took pleasure from her stilted gasps and pants.
"Yes, yes, I like it." Y/N stammered out, overwhelmed by the sensations. "I fucking like it."
His hands began pressing at the bulge in her stomach, feeling his dick fucking into her over and over again. Y/N didn't know if it felt so good because she hadn't gotten any in a while or if the bastard was just this damn good.
Shane chuckled, his voice gruff, amused by her enthusiasm. He rutted harder against her, reaching deeper and deeper inside, hitting her just right.
"Oh fucking, god!", a throaty scream erupted from deep within her.
"Nope, just me darlin'", Y/N didn't know how it was possible to loathe someone so deeply as they provided you with such indescribable pleasure.
Her soaking cunt began to clench on his cock, urging it deeper and deeper within her as the pleasure built up, the combined sensations of the aged leather scraping against her throbbing clit, Shane's rough hands rubbing into her hypersensitive nipples and his gigantic dick pounding into her g-spot, driving Y/N closer and closer to orgasm.
"Jesus, how tight are you? It's like a god damn vice grip", his deep voice was strained as he increased the speed of his powerful thrusts. He too, coming close to his release.
Y/N, swore she could hear a commotion, somewhere in the back of her mind, but was so clouded with pleasure she let the distant thought fly away.
"Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Huh?", he questioned her, pushing so deep, Y/N thought he had breached her cervix.
"Yes, fuck, yes.", she felt as if the response burst from her, as they both reached their climax.
Shane finally released her tits, choosing to grip on to her hips, bracing himself as he fucked into her, hitting her g-spot over and over again, leaving her tits to violently sway back and forth with the force of his thrusts.
"Shit, shit, shit. I'm so close, Shane.", Y/N was almost begging at this point, right on the edge she only needed a tiny bit more before she would be flying.
Shane reached one hand down to her pussy, quickly finding her clit and rubbing at a furoius pace.
The air was filled with their combined moans and grunts and the squelching of Y/Ns gushing core. Everything, every minute sensation was coming together.
Yes, yes, yes.
A scream exploded from her chest, a groan from Shane matching her as they arrived together.
"Oh, shi-"
"Y/N, where are you! We need y-", Glenn stopped short at the opening of the spot they were in, jaw hanging open as he stared at the sight that greeted him.
Y/N and Shane mid-orgasm could only stare back at the man in horror. Coming to their senses, the two swiftly parted, sharing an embarrassed glance as they rushed to reclothe themselves.
It seems Glenn was frozen as he stayed unmoving as they dressed, his expression becoming increasingly pained as he saw Y/N cover her tits with her torn and tattered shirt.
Y/N was shocked to see him there at all, for the obvious reason and because he was supposed to be on a supply run in the city with some of the others. Something must have gone wrong. Why else would they be back this early?
Shane seemed to reach a similar conclusion as they shared a concerned glance before realising the situation they were in.
Once they were clothed (mostly), Glenn appeared to come back to himself.
"There's a new-comer, we found in the city. Dude's a sheriff or something, saved my ass from a hoarde of walkers but he's pretty banged up. We need you to look at him Y/N", Glenn rushed out, looking like he'd rather be anywhere other than there.
"Just let me get a shirt and I'll be right on it.", Oh god, she could never look her friend in the eye again.
"Here just take mine. Go.", Shane intercepted, throwing her his shirt, he had soundlessly removed.
There was a silence as she shrugged it on.
"... Thanks. ", it quickly became awkward, as Y/N let out a small smile and rushed off back to camp, leaving Glenn and Shane staring at one another.
Shane levelled Glenn with a harsh look.
"You never speak of this. To anyone. If I hear you've even uttered a single word, I'll have your fuckin' head. Alright?"
Glenn's head nearly flew off his shoulders as he readily agreed.
"Okay then.", They strode off, on the short walk back to camp. Shane started interrogating Glenn, on the recent trip. "Tell me about this guy you picked up."
"Oh, it's insane. Guy woke up in an abandoned hospital, fresh out of a coma, to this shit. He's looking for his wife and kid."
Shane froze. It couldn't be. Wasn't possible.
"What's the guy's name?", Shane's breath began to tremble.
"Rick Grimes, he said. Why?", realising he had stopped, Glenn turned around, finding Shane looking vaguely ill.
"Shit."