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brookiesblurbs · 12 days ago

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Heyyyyy I just found you account! I was wondering if you could write some Shane fluff? Like him being super protective of fem!reader who doesnt have any survival skills and even tho it should annoy him so much he just thinks reader is cute and wants to take care of her??

New follower!! I’ll go and read everything on your blog now

Xoxo byeeee <3

SOLITUDE !! ୨ shane walsh.

SUMMARY — shane teaches a sweet girl how to shoot a gun and is a little vulnerable with her. WARNINGS — guns?? is that a warning? daryl being clocked for zero reason by shane. WC — 1.8k A/N — it's three am, popped a energy drink and shoved this out of my asshole. it's probably ooc idk i've... never written for shane and like. he was only normal for like two episodes. lowkey went off the ask a bit i'm sorry bae i'm buns at writing cute readers. also have no idea why i used pronouns instead of 'you' but i haven't written in six months and lowkey forgot how to write fanfics HAHA anyways i had fun writing for twd this made me excited to get more asks! this'll be the average length for requests so i can get them done in like two hours. bro i thought i was so funny sneaking the let me tell you somethin in

The silence of the desolate world around him amplified Shane’s solitude.

Ever since the walkers appeared, emptiness had become a companion Shane didn’t remember inviting into his life. The roads were eerily quiet, the air heavy with the faint stench of decay, and only the occasional rustle in the bushes reminded him that danger was always lurking nearby.

Shane had learned one thing the moment the CDC started sending out those first vague warnings about a virus: he was on his own. But being a protector was in his nature. He could thank his years as a sheriff for that. Shane was a lot of things— harsh, abrasive, even violent when the situation called for it— but before all of that, he was a protector. It was a promise he had made to himself, and one he had made to Rick: he would die before he let anything happen to Carl or Lori. So far, he’d kept that promise, even though it had cost him his peace of mind and any chance at sleeping soundly through the night.

A girl wasn’t in his plans. She was this sweet girl, God, far too sweet to be mixed up in this. She couldn’t have been more than a few years younger than him, and she was brilliant, in her own way. She wasn’t dumb by any means. She knew her way around Atlanta, and she was good with things he wasn’t. Emotions mostly. Everyone was treated the same by her. Gently. She was far too skittish, though. Took too long to make decisions that were a matter of living or dying in a world like this. If it was anyone else, Lord only knew how Shane would react.

Shane had this instinct, the same he had with Lori and Carl, towards her.

“Now, listen. No, no, no. Both hands.” Shane spoke, his tone flat and huffed out, like usual. His patience was a flaw of his. Especially with her, because it seemed like he was speaking in tongues anytime he said anything to her. “I don’t care if you see Rick and I shootin’ with one hand. You always use two hands, you hear me, girl? Alright, there ya go.”

Shane had been teaching her how to use different guns for the last hour. She was the only adult of the group who had no training whatsoever, and in Shane’s mind, the most important thing to him was knowing she’d be alright if a Walker came up on her.

“This is a G17.” He tried again, standing behind her as he watched her aim it. He shakes his head when she looks up at him with that deadpan look. “’S’a Pistol. Called G17 because it has seventeen rounds.” He takes out the magazine to show her the small silver bullets. He hands her one to show her how to reload it. She promptly drops it, and he believes this is his punishment for saving her butt instead of letting her get herself killed.

“Good Lord. Have you ever shot a gun in your life?” Shane’s tone is snappy now, talking to her like he would one of the males in the group.

“Why would I? I’m not a sheriff.” The indifference in her voice irks him even more.

“Thank God for that. You’re more likely to hit Daryl in his big ass head than a damn Walker.”

“This is pointless, Shane.”

Shane gets that little scrunch in between his brow, and he’s getting irritated. He takes a step back and runs his hands over his face. “It ain’t pointless. This is meaningful stuff I’m tryin’ to teach you.” He's trying to keep his voice level.

"It's pointless!" She argues.

“Let me tell you somethin’, girl! If you can’t learn how to shoot these geeks in the head, you ain’t makin’ it. That’s just the way it is. You gotta adapt, otherwise you’ll end up just like Ava. You want that? Huh?” Shane’s snapping now, his tone sharp and cutting. That impatient look hardened into a piercing, unforgiving glare.

It nearly broke his heart seeing the way she flinched when he yelled.

Everyone has warned her about Shane. Dale has been relentless with his talks with her, about how he knew men like him back in the war. Angry, aggressive, violent. Those words have been drilled into his head. She’d treated him just the same as everyone else. Like he was human, and not some dog.

Shane wouldn’t hurt her. God, he’d never even think about laying his hands on a girl, especially not her. He’d grown to care for this group of lone wolves, even if he’d never say that out loud. In an ideal world, he’d be able to keep everyone safe. Never did he want to scare you.

“Shit.” He murmured, all the ice leaving his voice immediately. Might have even been soft. “I didn’t mean’ta snap like that. Come on, I’ll show you one more time, then we can head back. Been a long day.”

She nods, although she still seems a little dazed by him yelling at her.

“I don’t wanna die.” She says quietly, aiming the gun back up. Shane set up an empty bean can on a log, and her eyes locked on it. Shane’s head snaps back over to her as she says it. It’s so quiet, he thought he imagined it.

“I know you don’t.” He moved behind her, gently lifting her arms up. His hands are calloused, but his touch is soft. Shane doesn’t need to touch her, but he wants to. It’s his way of apologizing for snapping without needing to say it vocally. “Aim above the target, just a little. Firm grip, like I told ya.”

“I don’t think I really have a choice on whether I’ll live or not.”

“Yeah, well. Tough, girl. You ain’t dyin’ and I ain’t lettin’ you.” He mumbles. His brown eyes aren’t looking at her, but at the target. His face is scrunched, like the thought of her dying made him feel ill. She can see his expression out of the corner of her eye. “Look at the can.”

She steadies the gun on the can. “I don’t get why you’re taking care of me.”

“I’m not takin’ care of you. I’m teachin’ you how to do it yourself.” Shane says.

They’re so far away from the camp and so deep in the woods that even a gunshot wouldn’t alert Walkers, especially not with a pistol this quiet. He made sure to take her far enough away, that way she could get a shot in.

“I don’t wanna learn how to kill.” She murmurs. “More than I don’t wanna die.”

Her finger finally rested against the trigger. And right as she’s about to pull it, Shane does something odd— his hands move to cover her ears. His forehead moves to rest against her hair. She pulls the trigger, and his hands are enough to keep her steady from the recoil and to block out the ringing that follows the bullet. It’s more of a crack than a bang, and it startles her a little. You never really get used to the sound of guns.

His lips press softly against the side of her head, and she realizes then that he wasn’t just touching her to protect her from losing her hearing— he knows this was frightening for her. She didn’t want to learn how to shoot, because she didn’t want to have to kill. And Shane knew this was eventually going to save her from other humans, even if he wasn’t there to protect her. He takes the gun from her shaking hands and puts it back in his holster, but his hands shift right back to cradle the sides of her face.

“You’re good. You’re full of good, that’s why I care. That’s why I’m teachin’ you this. Without good, we’ll all lose reason to keep goin’. You’re— You’re the reason the group keeps goin’.” Shane’s voice is shallow, and he keeps swallowing in between each sentence, because being vulnerable was like swallowing poison to him. “If something were to happen to Carl, or to you, it’d wreck the group.” A pause. “Wreck me.”

They’re both quiet for a moment. She’s not sure how to respond, and if she did, she didn’t want to make his walls come back up. Shane, on the other hand, seems to be grappling with his own thoughts, his head tilted slightly as if weighing the unspoken words lingering between them.

Shane glances at her, his expression softening just a fraction. There’s something in his eyes— gratitude, perhaps, or relief that she didn’t say anything. All she can hear is the chirping of birds, and Shane soft breaths against the side of her head. She peeks past him. There’s a clear hole in the can, where the bullet had passed through. She gently elbows Shane.

“Look at that, Shay!” She exclaims, and she’s beaming. “Fuckin’ bullseye!”

Shane starts laughing, and he’s not sure if it’s because she’s cussing, or because she called him by the same nickname Rick used to. Either way, he’s not as tense. He pulls away from her and pats her on the shoulder.

“That’s my girl! Now we gotta find one of them sonabitches for you to practice on. With a knife, though. I ain’t trust your aim enough to be wastin’ bullets.”

She’s laughing too, and the sound makes Shane a little dizzy. The tension from earlier has faded, but she’s going to remember his words. She’s going to use them as a reminder to stay alive.

“Let’s go back to camp. I’m hungry.” She says after their smiles dim.

“Yeah? Got some yummy frog legs already for ya.” He teases, slinging an arm around her shoulders. He grins at her disgusted noise.

“You are nasty as hell. I ain’t eatin’ that.”

“Guess you’re goin’ hungry then, missy. We’re fresh outta beans.” Shane laughs again as she gently shoves him. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and Glenn’ll be playin’ his guitar tonight.”

“You aren’t gonna have ears after I tell Daryl you called his head big.”

“Yeah, you do that, and you ain’t eatin’ for a month.”

They fake argue the whole way back to camp, their laughter weaving through the trees, a rare sound in the world they now inhabit. By the time they step into the clearing, the familiar sight of the camp greets them like honey. Glenn is strumming his guitar near the fire, just like Shane had hoped for.

Rick is crouched by the fire, his hat pulled low over his face as he pokes at the glowing embers, coaxing the flames higher. Dale is seated nearby, gesturing animatedly as he recounts some story to T-Dog, who nods along with a look that’s part amusement, part confused as hell. Across the way, Carol is tending to some stew, the smell faint but warm, mingling with the wood smoke curling into the night. All four of them are smiling. Even Daryl, who’s using his knife to carve into a stick, seems to be content listening to Dale.

It’s domestic in a way Shane hasn’t felt in a long time. And for once, the loneliness that so often claws at his chest feels light enough to ignore.

#twd #shane walsh #the walking dead #rick grimes #daryl dixon #jon bernthal

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