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sinsandsweetness · 10 months

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“compulsion” - part 2 of PICK YOUR POISON - (a dads best friends love story)

first part here

pairing- (Shane x fem!reader)

warnings- nsfw, 18+, age gap, dads best friends, drinking, oral (r!recieving), fingering, jealous rick… 1.8k wc

You’d been a complete tease since that night in the garage. You knew it. They knew it. Apparently the only one who didn’t know it was your father. Such an oblivious man. Unable to see the way his friends undress you with their eyes anytime they get a glimpse of you. Or the way you purposely wear the shortest skirts you own whenever they’re around. And today was no exception. A neighbourhood barbecue that your parents are hosting. Mostly an attempt in upholding the outstanding community member facade they desperately cling to. And with all your fathers friends who were invited, you decide that for your own form of validation, to put on your shortest sundress. A pale yellow with a soft floral pattern, almost unnoticeable unless you were up close. It was so short that you have to pull the sides down anytime you get up from your seat.

“Where you goin’?” Rick asks as you tug on the skirt, heading for the door to your house. Your shoulder now a little cold without his arm wrapped around it. Something neither of your parents seemed to notice. Or if they did they certainly didn’t care. Too busy in conversation, welcoming some of the newest Alexandria recruits.

“Washroom.” You make a face at him. He seemed almost appalled that you’d be leaving his side. He probably was. Always trying to keep you close. Closest out of the three. And that was keeping him on edge. Trying to maintain your attention the most effectively, and keep it on the low. In fact, the secret was making him a little jumpy. The weeks of stolen kisses and touches catching up to him too. Very, very secret touches. Hiding what was becoming an exhilarating and extremely complicated relationship between three different guys, all old enough to be your father.

He watches your hips sway as you walk into the house, flashing him a cute smile before making your way down the hallway.

When the bathroom door opens, you’re pleasantly surprised to see Shane. With a flirty grin, your body moves quicker than your mind. Pushing the man back in as he tries to object, but you don’t let him. Pressing your lips to his and pulling him in by the back of his neck.

“What-”

“Mhpm.” You don’t even let him answer. Just continue kissing him all hot and needy, while you close the door behind you, pulling him close against you as you start to feel him relax. To accept that this was happening.

The entire day was torture. Each one of them very aware of your cries for attention, but not offering to do anything about them. When you tried to pull Rick upstairs to your bedroom he got all tight jawed and told you to cut it out. Pinching your ass as he led you towards the backyard. And Daryl, silently shook his head when you teased your fingernails up your thigh, lifting your skirt to show him the colour of the thong you were wearing. Ugh, they’re so boring. No fun at all.

It’s such a shame too. You want them so bad and they barely seem to acknowledge it. You woke up this morning all hot and needy, hand in your panties before your alarm even wrang. And seeing the men all perfect and groomed wasn’t helping. In their Sunday best button ups, with a spritz of cologne that made your head dizzy. It was intoxicating. The way you actually crave them. The way you feel like you need them. You’re already addicted and you’ve barely even had a taste.

“Would you believe me if I told you I’m a virgin?” You ask Shane in between messy kisses, hands already tugging at his belt, more than hinting at the real reason you decided to trap him in the costal themed bathroom.

He laughs against your lips. He tastes like beer. And you like it. A lot.

“Absolutely not.” He leans back. Tone more serious now. “Are you?”

An amused huff escapes your lips as you rest your head against the bathroom door. “No. But I wish I were.”

You pull him in again, tongue tracing his bottom lip as you kiss him. “Wish it coulda been you who popped my cherry,” his hand is under your dress, rubbing you through your panties. “Who fucked me and corrupted me,” you continue against his lips, the softest moan escaping your throat at his touch.

But he pauses. Trying to catch his breath, still rubbing soft circles on your clit.

“Ain’t too late for that second one.”

He’s right. It’s not.

“Probably woulda been better then some 16 year old jock on prom night. What’d he last, 30 seconds? Bet he couldn’t even make you come, huh?” He asks, fingers finding their way into your panties now, spreading your arousal onto your clit, and dipping inside.

“No- “ you gasp at the intrusion. “Was- was my high school gym teacher. Cheated on his wife with me in the girls locker room during lunch hour.”

Shane couldn’t help the laugh that left his mouth at your confession. Vibrating against your own lips. And you smile because he’s amused. But you aren’t joking. And it’s really not that funny. Truly wasn’t your proudest moment.

“Now that, I believe.”

You’re done talking, so you pull his smile against your own and whimper into his mouth. His fingers already pumping slowly inside of you. Finding your sweet spot with ease. Making your bare toes curl against the cool tile.

From the moment you woke up, you’ve needed this. Needed to come. All over his fingers. His cock would be ideal, but he told you no already. They all came to an agreement. Daryl, Rick and him. Said it was “crossing a line” or some bullshit. As if finger fucking your best friends daughter while he’s flipping burgers on the back deck isn’t.

“Please, Shane- need you so bad-” you whine against his lips. Hips involuntarily bucking into his hand.

“Fuck, baby-” you know he’s trying to hold back.

“Just-uh,” he groans, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your panties down in one swift motion. Taking your right thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.

Your hands tangle in his hair at the feeling of his mouth on your cunt. His hands are under your dress, nails digging into your ass and pulling you even closer. The warm slickness of his tongue moving up and down on your clit. Pleasure swirls in your stomach and silent whimpers escape your swollen lips.

“Taste so fucking good-” he groans against you, bringing two fingers up and teasing your entrance. Leaking with arousal and spit. Absolutely begging to be filled. To be fucked.

“Ohmygod,” you moan, pressure building in your core as he curls his fingers. Sucking and lapping at your clit, like he just can’t get enough.

“Gonna come, Shane-” you tell him, hands tightening their grip on his dark locks. Your left leg is starting to tremble, and you’re climax is approaching much quicker then you were hoping. Thanks to his tongue replicating what you can only assume feels just like heaven.

And right when that tight, hot band in your core feels like it’s about to snap, you feel the wood behind you move, and hear the door handle rattle. Someone trying to use the bathroom that had thankfully been locked in between frenzied kisses and grabby hands.

“Occupied!” You squeak, eyes widening at the interruption. Your heart practically skipping a beat at the prospect of being caught.

You feel Shane’s movements halt to a stop, big, brown eyes looking up at you from between your legs.

“Shit. sorry, sweets.” You’re father’s deep voice carries through the door, and a cheeky grin forms on Shane’s handsome face. Once the footsteps retreat down the hall, he puts his index finger to his lips and shushes you. Be quiet, baby.

“Keep going-” your voice is hushed and shaky. Desperately unashamed to be begging for his mouth. His fingers. His nose, and how amazing it feels grinding against your pulsing clit. And wether he heard your pleas or not, he obliged.

You raise you hand to your mouth and bite down on the fleshy side of your palm, silencing the sounds you both know you can’t contain. And you’re close again in a moments time. Eyes rolling back and hips jutting forward. Muscles aching already.

Oh my god.

“Don’t stop, please, please, please-” you beg him for your orgasm. And he gives it to you. Coaxing it out of you with his mouth and his fingers. Feeling a warm wave of pleasure erupt from your cunt, going up your stomach and down your things. And you bite your lip trying not to moan but it feels way too good and you can’t help it.

Not that Shane minded.

“Fuck.” You whisper, core twitching as he pulls his sopping digits out of you. Looking you right in the eye as he kisses your clit, one last torturous time, before he takes your panties, pulls them back up and fixes your dress. He washes his hands as you catch your breath, still leaning against the door. Face flushed when you see him smirking at you through the mirror.

“Think you can behave the rest of the night?”

You nod eagerly, “Yes.”

“Good. Now go back out there and pretend you didn’t just come all over my fingers, alright? Have a drink, eat some food. Be a good girl for us.”

You left the bathroom before him, checking that the coast was clear before slipping outside and eyeing the open spot still next to Rick. He notices you immediately and holds up a red solo cup, cold condensation already dripping down the plastic.

“Made you a drink,” he hands it to you as you sit next to him, the side of your thigh flush with his, keeping him extra close. And before his arm can make its way back around your shoulder, his eyebrows pinch together in a confused scowl.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, inspecting your dopey expression.

“Hm?” You look at him as innocently. Clearly still little dazed from your trip to the washroom.

Rick’s face twitches when he notices. Your thighs are actually trembling. Already sore from keeping yourself standing on one foot, while coming hard on another man’s face only moments earlier.

Rick’s palm flattens on your thigh, pushing it into the seat and halting it’s shakiness.

“Really?”

“What?” You ask, voice sweet as honey.

“You know what.”

“I- I tried to take you upstairs n’ you got all grumpy-” you stutter, trying to defend your sinful actions.

“I said later.”

You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out. And you’re a little surprised to feel a jolt between your legs at his jealousy. How hot it is that he’s a little mad. A little… possessive.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper in his ear, tucking yourself in closer to his side, sipping the drink he made you. “Can make it up to you. Promise.”

He rolls his eyes. Annoyed and jealous and irritated that it wasn’t him who had his way with you in the bathroom, so well that it made your legs shake. But regardless of his hostility, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in against his warm body. And you notice that his grip tightens when Shane walks by, giving you a charming smile and a flirty nod.

Annoyed and defeated, Rick sighs and leans in. Close enough that his lips brush your ear.

“Alright. Upstairs. Now.”

part 3

(Daryl’s part will be next… hope you all enjoyed💗)

taglist- @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker @whatthefuuuck

#twd fanfiction #smut #shane walsh fanfiction #shane walsh #shane walsh smut #shane walsh x you #shane walsh x reader #Shane Walsh x y/n #dbf!rick #dbf!shane #dbf!daryl #dads best friend!trope #pick your poison

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sinsandsweetness · 10 months

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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

(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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