Umm, so this piece of writing did not exist until roughly two hours ago. I was watching Bethyl video's and I saw the argument they had, when Beth says to Daryl that he looks at her and all he sees is a dead girl. This happened. Sorry, not sorry. I promise I'm working on Adult, until then, you have this. Think of this as a companion piece to Fuck you. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or its characters. Make no profit from this piece.
"You look at me, and all you see is a dead girl!"
"'Cause you fuckin' died!"
"I made it, Daryl and you don't get to treat me like this, not again, not when I had to crawl out of my own damn grave to come an' find you! Ain't we had this damn conversation before?"
She's trembling and it's not fear. It's anger. A terrible, hot, bursting anger that wants to tear her apart and take the world with it. Wants to tear Daryl apart and make him pay. It's awful and it's powerful and it's something she can't control, not anymore. A bullet tore through her head and now she's fucked up and she can't stop how mad she is, how quick her heart is racing.
Her pulse is a heavy thrum, resonating in her ears as Daryl takes a step forward, blue eyes squinted and angry through his dark, lank hair. "You think I's gonna welcome you with open arms, was gonna fall down on my goddamn knees and pour my damn heart out to you, girl?"
Beth's hand's clench as does her teeth, her body locking up tight, her skull pounding. "Funny, 'cause I kinda fuckin' did! I got Maggie tellin' me how you carried my dead body an' Rick sayin' how you're not yourself an' Carol sayin' that she's never seen you act like this, an' everyone sayin' how ruined you are over me. So yeah, I thought you would be happy that I fuckin' made it."
"Yeah, well that ain't me, girl. Guilt got me actin' like that, now ya back I ain't got shit to feel sorry 'bout."
"You're lyin'," she hisses, taking a step forward and now her heart is throwing itself against her chest. "You missed me."
"Fuck you," he hisses back and he's closer, crowding into her, towering over her.
The world floods red like her vision did when her brain blew apart. Ruby red fading into old blood red, then nothing but black. "I hate you, you fuckin' prick!" She screams, her throat raw and tight as she throws herself at him, swinging a loose punch that hits him square in the jaw.
The old Beth would have been horrified. She should be horrified, but she's not because it's not nearly enough. She wants to destroy him. To tear him apart limb from limb and stamp all fucking over him and crush him. She wants him to know agony and pain and terror like she did. Wants him to know how it feels to claw your way out of a blanket, then hard packed mud.
Six feet fucking under.
Wants him to know how it feels to be lost and confused and scared, with barely any memories that took days to develop back into a brain, each one hard and harsh and sickening. Wants him to fight walkers with no weapons and survive without food, without water, and try to find a family without any fucking clue where to look, or without knowing who had died while she was dead herself. Wants him to know what it feels like to sob, shake, scream in fear and longing, let loneliness tear you apart and cold shear away your loose clothes, your thin skin, brittle bones, weak from exhaustion; hunger.
Wants him to know how it feels to go through all that, beat all that, to stumble upon the people you never ever thought you would see again after coming back from the dead, travelling further than you can ever calculate and be rejected. Not by anyone else, just him, like she did something, like he hated her. Didn't hug her, didn't look at her, moved out of Glenn and Maggie's. Didn't speak to her, didn't stick around the zone, took himself out for days, sometimes weeks at a time, nearly getting himself killed over and over again just because he couldn't face her.
Beth swings another punch and suddenly he's got her, hands clamped on her arms and holding her tight. She screams, trying to kick, claw, headbutt, bite. Anything she can do because she hates him and she can't stop saying it. Can't stop screaming it as he holds her close, traps her, their bodies flush together and hers jerking, his frame locked and tight. "I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, hate you! You fuckin' prick, you coward, you fuckin' selfish fuckin' liar!"
"Beth, stop! Stop! Girl, fuckin' stop!" He shouts over her own ramblings, grunting as she manages to land her vicious blows.
She's breathless, everything heaving and thrumming, the world tilting alarmingly and her skin on fire. Distantly she's aware of how she's screaming, how much louder he's getting trying to speak over her and soon someone may hear and come to check on them, but she doesn't goddamn care because he needs to be punished. Through the fear and the cold and the agony, she held onto him like a ball of light; yet the minute she found him, he let her down.
"I hate you, I hate you! You let me go! You fuckin' let me go! You let me down."
Daryl sucks in a harsh breath, his hands so tight on her bare arms she hisses soon after. It hurts, a horrible pinch that throbs but he's not letting go and she's not trying to leave.
"I let you down?" He says it low and hard, ice-pick cold and it should scare her, but the rage is making everything hot, melting down that ice and it doesn't.
Beth pushes to her tip toes, crowding in, her lips nearly pressed to his. Her heart flutters, a little less anger, a little more of something else and her words are hot, hard against his mouth, "yeah, you goddamn did."
His chest heaves against hers, frame vibrating and she wonders what they must look like, crowded together. Dark and light, her blonde hairs tangling with his dark ones they're pressed so tight, foreheads nearly touching, palms screwed up at her sides and toe to toe. There's a tense, breathless silence and Beth expects the anger to swirl through it, drain out of them, but it doesn't. It's still thick and hot, burning her skin and her cheek bones what she can only presume is a fiery red, from what she sees of Daryl's own hot cheeks.
It's breathless, infinite, then it explodes.
They crash together, their mouths fused and her hands in his hair, pulling tight, his hands grabbing her by the ass and hoisting her into the air, stumbling under her weight until her back hits a cold wall, hard and fast and out of nowhere. She hisses, her cunt flooding with hot wetness and he growls back, mouth tearing away from hers. Top suddenly in his tight grip, he rips it straight down the middle, the thin cotton of her bra getting caught in his thick fingers and tearing under the pressure until everything's open and her chest and belly are both exposed. She gasps, an angry shout on her tongue, her head ringing until he grabs her hips and dives down.
His mouth wraps around her nipple and bites. Beth cries out, head falling hard against the wall and her spine arching, fingers digging into his scalp and yanking. Daryl groans; straightens up again as she tries to strain her neck and reach his mouth, chest still heaving and the whole world in burning ruins. She feels desperate, hot, itchy, straining and fighting against the material on her body to get to him. Get his belt off and his shirt, get his hard cock inside her. They manage to fumble at his belt, to undo his jeans, pull his shirt over his head.
Beth's hands fall to his broad chest, a whimper in her throat as she hooks her nails and rakes them down to his stomach. He swears under his breath, abandoning his jeans and practically flings her through the air, where she catches herself with a ringing smack on the hard edge of the dining room table, not far from where their argument started in the kitchen.
She cusses as darkly as he did when the edge digs into her ribs, her shoulders yanking back as he pulls the loose material of what was once her bra and top from her body. Her head swims as he comes up behind her, tugging on the waistband of her jeans. She lifts her hips, pushing her hands under her stomach to undo her button and fly, both of them managing to wriggle her jeans and panties down together, leaving them tangled at her knees.
"Fuck," Daryl grates out. "Look at that pussy."
A whine escapes her mouth as a tendril of shocking heat slips from the crown of her head, right down her spine; wrapping around her hips and stroking her clit, flooding her cunt with more juices until her inner thighs rub together with the slickness.
"Daryl, please."
She almost feels sick, how bad she wants it. How much she needs it. He makes an animalistic sound, his rough hands taking both of her wrists and tugging them behind her back, clamping around them at the base of her spine. She moans, her shoulders yanked back and chest thrust forward, legs spread as far as she can manage with her jeans and panties at her knees.
"Jesus, girl, shut your fuckin' mouth 'fore we get caught," he grumbles, low and rough, sending goose bumps skittering over her skin.
She only realises she was whimpering like a kicked puppy when he says it and as she tries to stop he reaches down and yanks her jeans the rest of the way off, bringing her shoes and panties too. When he stands back behind her, he stretches over her body and squeezes her cheeks until her teeth cut into them and then rams fabric into her gaping mouth. Beth chokes around whatever the fabric is, eyes watering as Daryl takes her wrists back, straining her shoulders again. They thrum in dull agony and she moans around the fabric in her mouth, struggling to breathe at all through her nose when her cheek connects sharply with the cold wood.
He makes a sound something akin to desperation and it floods her hot and cold. He likes this. He likes having her bent under him, stripped naked, hands tied up and mouth stuffed shut with what she's pretty sure are her panties from what she can taste. He likes it so much she can feel the slippery pre-cum against her ass cheeks where his hard, hot cock rests. She moans deliriously, her eyes squeezing shut. Rocking back her hips makes him cuss and he presses his cock forward, head pressing against the tight ring of muscle between her ass cheeks and she shudders, rolling her hips, her pussy juices dripping down her thighs.
"Jesus, fuckin' Christ, girl. You like that?"
She makes a sound behind the gag, her hot cheek practically glued to the table with her sweat, her hips rolling over and over. He keeps a hold on her wrists and uses the other to grip her left ass cheek and pull it aside, getting a clear view of his cock pressing against her asshole. Beth chokes, heart beating like a wild bird as the weight of his gaze presses on her. Presses as hard as a finger, then there is real pressure because the head of his cock slips in. She freezes and he groans something delirious, his jagged nails puncturing the flesh of her ass cheek.
"Fuck, Beth. Fuck."
She whimpers back, trying to relax. She didn't expect this but it looks like it's going to happen and she's so fucking wet, so fucking hot and sweaty, ramped up, she doesn't goddamn care. She just wants him inside her, inside any hole, wants to cum so bad she'll do anything. Daryl presses forward an inch and she sobs because it stings but her pussy also throbs, two holes at opposite ends of the spectrum, at war with each other. Pleasure and pain a tight, thin rope that she's walking and it's so fucking good she can't cope.
"Please, please, please," she rasps but the fabric turns it into something gritty and Daryl makes a sound like he doesn't understand.
"You want it here, huh? Want it in your tight little ass? You know how many damn times I watched this ass? How many times I pictured stuffing it full with my cock?"
She can't cope.
She's going to combust as it is and if he keeps talking like that she hasn't got a fucking chance in hell because she's picturing it. All the times she's walked past him or stood up in front of him, bent over or wore shorts. Teasing him, without knowing it. Picturing him going to his cell and gripping his hard, weeping cock because of her. Making himself cum. Thick, white down his knuckles, his wrists, over his belly and thighs.
She whimpers again and he lets loose a strained laugh. "Next time, girl. Promise."
He pulls the head of his cock out and it stings as much as it did when he pushed in, a pinprick of pain compared to her pulsing clit, her hot cunt throbbing and rippling. He doesn't waste time after that. Gripping her wrists with renewed vigorous intent, he yanks her upper body so her breasts are thrust forward, nipples hard little peaks, shoulders pulled tight and aching and her cheek rips from the table. She cries out, wondering if she left three or four layers of skin on the surface, the heat in her left cheek even more intense than her right like she's been struck hard.
Daryl grabs her ass cheek again, spreading her so wide it almost hurts and then shoves his cock into her cunt with a roar, like a lion making a conquest. Beth screams against her panties, her mouth flooding with saliva and pussy aching as he pushes deeper and deeper, moving back so that her clit presses, hot and fat and exposed, against the edge of the table.
It's sharp and cold like a knife's blade and every single time Daryl thrusts into her, it's like she's being stabbed and it's excruciatingly perfect. Pleasure and pain in equal doses that make her see stars. It doesn't take her long to cum, not at all and it's a pressure in her belly she can't cope with. It makes tears flood down her cheeks, waves of heat roll down her spine, shrieking white noise scream in her ears and a real scream to get trapped up in her panties.
"Wha- Jesus, Beth!"
Daryl pulls out, is almost forced out as wet gushes between her legs like a waterfall, spilling onto the floor in a puddle. He grabs her again, using the head of his cock against her clit and it's too much, it's too much because her clit has been abused and those stars are getting thicker and she's screaming, more wetness splashing onto the floor.
Daryl releases her, letting her flop against the table as he grunts and pants behind her like a large animal, excitement and adrenaline almost tangible as he keens like a dog through his teeth, splashing hot, thick cum across her ass. So much of it, so much she would be amazed if she held the compacity to make coherent thoughts, which she doesn't.
He half falls against her when he's done, hands braced against her spine and pressing her down into the table. When he speaks, it's low and satisfied, "girl, you're so fuckin' good."
Beth hums, eyes heavier than rocks, spitting out the pantie-gag so she can talk. "Don't hide from me no more, Daryl. I can't take it."
He bends over her back, his lips to her spine. "I'm sorry, girl."
"S'okay, you made it up to me." She smiles.
His hand reaches forward, taking hers and clasping their fingers. "Can do it in the shower too."
She laughs. "Lead the way."
