“craving” - part 3 of PICK YOUR POISON - (a dads best friends love story)
part 1 and 2
pairing- (Daryl x fem!reader)
warnings- 18+ content, oral (r!giving), reader being a sneaky lil slut… (drunk off sangria while posting so might not be proofread hehe) 2.6k wc
“Cute skirt,” you feel Shane’s hand graze your lower back as he squeezes between you and the countertop. Making his way to the fridge for another beer. “You uh, wear that just for us?”
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile while peeling what feels like the hundredth carrot of the afternoon.
He glances up, checking to make sure that your father is still deep in conversation with Rick, way over in the living room. And with a brand new, cold beer in his hand, he presses himself behind you, trapping you against the counter. His free hand coming up and brushing your hair out of the way, to leave a sweet kiss on your neck. You can’t help but smile, loving the way his lips feel on your skin. But you gasp when his hand comes down and squeezes your ass, under your skirt. Silently scolding him with your eyes, and stepping away from him. You’d already had a close call with Shane already. You didn’t need to be testing the waters any further.
He only chuckles and makes his way back to the living room, joining in on the conversation between Rick and your father. Something about the job that Deanna has put your dad in charge of. The construction team was doing another expansion, building more and more houses to fit all the newcomers.
Adding all the carrots to a bowl, you look up and notice Daryl making his way to the porch, slipping on his faded, leather jacket. A lighter and a pack of cigarettes in hand. Sweet. Just what you need.
He’s leaned up against the side of the house when you finally get to him. Your bare feet in the cool grass, having only pulled on a cardigan to stay warm in the chilly fall air. He smiles when he sees you, a cheeky, no good, expression splayed on his handsome face.
“Think I could borrow one?” You ask, standing right in front of him, already reaching for the pack in his jacket pocket, before he mumbles a knowing, “Mhm.”
“Light?” You ask, cigarette held to your lips, waiting for him to light it. And he does. Bringing his hand up to block the wind, other one sparking the flame. You take a drag in and lean in as close as you can, letting the smoke tumble out of your soft lips, practically grazing his own. Mindlessly, his hand makes its way to your waist as you lean further into him. One hand on his chest, and the other holding the smoke.
“You can just never behave, can you?” He asks, already knowing what the answer will be.
“Nope.” You smile, tipping your head up and closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his, hand coming up to the back of his neck to pull him in deeper. The smokes are quickly thrown to the concrete and forgotten. Pulling you against him and tangling his own hands in your hair. Tongues dancing over eachother, him tasting of beer and tobacco. You, of mint and lipgloss. The smell of him, that familiar concoction of smoke and leather, it’s intoxicating. Breathing heavy as you pull at his belt, getting ready to kneel for him, right there in your parents backyard.
“Wait-” his rough hand grabs your own, halting you from taking things any further. He’s breathing heavy too.
“We can’t.”
Immediately you groan. Annoyed and defeated.
Fucking hell. All of them. “we can’t”, “we shouldn’t”, “this is wrong”. It’s all you’d heard from the men for weeks. And while Rick and Shane were a little easier to seduce, breaking down enough to take care of you at least, Daryl had stayed relatively strong. The furthest you’d gotten was a rather heavy make out session in the truck. And he’d halted your hips the second you tried grinding down on him. Searching for any friction between the denim of his jeans and the lace of your panties that you craved so desperately, but he wouldn’t budge.
And now, when all you wanna do is wrap your pretty, glittery lips around his cock, he remains just a strong.
“Daryl, come on,” you whine, stealing another open mouthed kiss. Seemingly the only thing he didn’t feel the need to object. “Don’t you want me?”
“‘Course- fuck- of course I do.” He tugs you by the hair, facing his deep blue eyes. “I do.”
“Then why won’t you fuck me already?”
“We agreed-”
“Screw the agreement. Take me upstairs. Please. After supper, when my dad falls asleep on the couch. Take me upstairs and fuck me so hard I forget my own name.”
He blinks slowly. Keeping his eyes shut for a second to compose himself. Thinking about all the things he’d love to do to you if he did decide to follow you up to your bedroom. White walls and pink sheets. Soft and sweet, just like you.
His tone is firm when he finally speaks.
“We’ve been over this, sweetheart. Not happening.”
Bummer.
You take the rejection with an understanding nod. Being sure to slowly rake your hands down his abdomen, under his jacket, and give him one last peck. Quickly running your thumb over his lips, wiping the evidence of your watermelon lipgloss off his mouth. You give him a coy smile over your shoulder when heading back inside.
Unaware of the way that Daryl wanted to physically kick himself for saying no. Fists clenched by his sides with his eyes closed. Regretting not just taking the opportunity. Regretting not just letting you undo that damn belt and have your way with him, right outside in the backyard of your parents house. Knowing you’d show up for dinner with bruised knees and damp panties. Waiting in anticipation for whatever he might do to you after supper when he’d have you all alone in your bedroom.
Such a damn shame.
Your mother decided to eat on the deck with your aunt and her husband. With their annoying ass kids too. She’d invited you to sit with them, but the open seat next to Rick was way too tempting.
Shane is the weakest, by far. If you were measuring their strength by how likely they were to fuck you, that is. He hadn’t yet, but you’d like to believe that you’re making progress. Rick wants to. You know that. He wants you so bad it actually hurts. And fuck, if he hadn’t felt tempted the other week, upstairs in your bedroom, with his face between your thighs, giving you your second (and most intense) orgasm of the day. The way you begged him to fuck you right then and there had his mind spinning and his dick swelling. But unfortunately, his moral dilemma was saved by the sound of your father calling you downstairs, to introduce you to some new neighbours. And Rick couldn’t help but sigh in relief at the realization that he didn’t have to actually say “no”.
And as always, he’s attempted to claim you as his own. His hand won’t leave your thigh from under the table, as you pick at the turkey and potato’s on your plate. Glancing at him with an innocent smile every now and then. Tingles erupting as he moves his thumb in circles against your skin, all while listening intently to your father go on about all the work around Alexandria that needs to be done before snowfall. Daryl’s sat next to Rick. Replaying the conversation with you from outside, over and over in his head as he shovels the mashed potato’s into his mouth. Thinking about how badly he wanted to give in. To tangle his hands in your hair and guide those rosy lips right on to his dick, fucking your throat and then cumming all over your pretty face. And then Shane, next to your dad, who can’t stop playing footsies with you from under the table. Giving you that fucking smirk that you just wanna kiss right off his face. As if his smile belonged against your lips, and nowhere else.
“Sweetheart, I think me and the boys could use another round. You mind going to the garage and grabbing us some more beers?” Your father gets up, his voice snapping you out of your sinful daydreams.
“Uh- sure.” You smile politely, standing up from the table, and pulling your skirt down in a failed attempt at being modest. You hesitate, heart beating fast while watching your father go up for a second plate of food and then head outside to the deck. Probably just checking in on your mother. Making sure that her and the others were all doing ok and didn’t need another drink themselves.
You don’t even really register what you’re doing until you’re under the table. Moving fast in order to effectively use the moment that your father is finally occupied. Confusion quickly setting on each man’s face until you’re settled between Daryl’s knees. On the floor, completely hidden by the tablecloth. Hands going straight to Daryl’s belt, unclasping it and grabbing the impressively large stiffy he’d been hiding under the table all night.
“Fuck.” You heard him gasp from above. Shane letting out a surprised huff of amusement and Rick whispering something inaudible.
You slip your hand into his boxers and pull him out, licking your lips and then placing a sweet kiss on his tip.
“Oh shit, she’s- fuck.” Daryl’s thighs are tensed as he starts to wrap his mind around what’s actually happening. Around the fact that you’re on your knees in front of him. Glossy lips wrapped around his cock, while your dads right outside, and his best friends are right there.
You take him into your mouth, slowly bobbing up and down, paying close attention to his reactions. To what makes him drop his fork on the table and grunt. Gasping and straining to keep in the sounds you so desperately want to hear come from his throat.
You keep going even when you hear the sliding door to the deck open. Your father returning to the table and continuing his conversation from before. Not that you had been listening. Far too busy thinking about what each man would taste like if they had the decency to put you on your knees, like you’ve asked them to over and over.
“You hear about that run that Deana was planning? She said she’d talk to you about it but I didn’t know if she ever got around to…”
Your father kept talking. Blissfully unaware of the absolutely filthy performance taking place beneath the tablecloth. How on earth Daryl was keeping it together, you had no idea. Holding yourself up with your hands gripping at his thighs, muscles flexed in what you assume is pleasure. But it’s likely that his nerves are playing a roll as well.
Rick makes sure to keep your fathers attention. Asking questions and chatting along. The perfect distraction as you continue the borderline torture on Daryl’s cock. And though you can’t see it, he’s trying his very best to keep it together. Slow blinks, glancing down at his plate of food. Fingers gripping his utensils so hard they could snap. Doing everything in his control to keep breathing like a normal person. To not tip his head back and moan out your name. And Rick and Shane are doing a surprisingly wonderful job at being your accomplices, distracting your father with simple, mundane conversation. Enough to take any focus off the fact that Daryl was a minute away from cumming down your throat. Torn between wanting to last longer and wanting to hurry up so that he didn’t have to hide his reactions any longer.
You assume he’s getting close. His knees becoming all shifty, involuntarily twitching from how good your mouth feels. So warm and wet and taking him all the way down. You feel a hand lace into your hair, though a little confused because you’re pretty sure it isn’t Daryl’s. Coming from beside him, having reached over so nonchalantly, Rick pushes your head down. Clearing his throat at the same time that you inevitably gag on Daryl’s dick. Hiding the noise. And at that, Daryl just about lost it. Every nerve in his body is on fire and you want to taste him so fucking bad. Want to drink down every last drop of whatever he gives you. You reach your own hand down inbetween your legs and press the pads of your fingers to the cotton panties covering your clit. Rubbing little circles to ease your own needs. Dipping lower and realizing that there’s a wet spot from your arousal. Because sucking Daryl off was turning you on. And if he knew that, he wouldn’t have lasted another second.
“Thought your girl was grabbing us another beer?” Shane asks finally bringing attention to the fact that you aren’t sitting at the table. At least not to your dads knowledge.
“Yeah, I thought so. I’ll run to the garage. See if she got distracted with the bar. Gal sure loves her cocktails, I’ll tell you that much.”
Does she ever.
You hear your father walk down the hall, towards the garage. At the same time, Daryl let’s out the breath he’s holding and his hips buck up involuntarily. So fucking close you can tell.
“You got thirty seconds, baby.” Rick warns you. Well, both you and Daryl. That you need to make him come now. Otherwise, daddy’s gonna find out your dirty little secret. And wouldn’t that be such a shame. The fun part’s only just started.
Daryl moans. Louder than you expected but immediately after, you feel him tense up and your mouth fills with his salty fluid. You swallow around him. No hesitation whatsoever. It’s not like you could leave any evidence. And without even helping him get his pants done back up, you crawl past Ricks legs, making sure to use his thigh as a support beam to get back up and slink into your seat. Taking a napkin from the table and wiping your mouth. Giving your best doe eyes to the three men. All of them sporting equally impressed expressions. Not even a hint of jealousy present from Rick, which you found a little odd. Maybe your little show turned them all on. Not just Daryl. And when you look over at the bowman, his face is red. Crimson blush covering his cheeks as he buckles up and straightens himself out. Rick and Shane lightly shaking their heads in disbelief with the sexiest smiles forming on their faces.
“You are somethin’ else, princess. My god.” Shane laughs, kicking your foot under the table. And you can only smile back before you hear the door open and your father come waltzing back into the dining area.
“Where the hell were you? Y’forgot about our beer.” You father says, handing one to each man at the table.
“Sorry - uh- I had to use the washroom. Got distracted.” You smile politely, taking a sip of your own drink as you feel the heat rise to your own cheeks.
“Course you did. Can you grab the pie, pumpkin? Think everyone’s about done eating.”
You nod and get up, sauntering towards the fridge, grabbing the pie along with a can of whipped cream. You make sure to look directly at Rick and Daryl while you shake the can and line your index finger with the sugary fluff. Maintaining eye contact as you lick it up and suck the cream off your finger. Rick rolls his eyes, unable to hide the smirk forming on his face. And Daryl shoots you a warning glare from across the table.
You did warn him you weren’t going to behave. Just decided to prove it too.
part 4
-
(Ricks part is up next bbs<3 )
taglist - @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker @whatthefuuuck @imyourbratzdoll