This is it. The end. I feel this is a good place for it, plus it's where the season currently finished. I'm usually daunted reading a fanfic that's over ten chapters, so I feel this already went too long. I'd rather do shorter one-shots here or there (and I'll take requests). There are some rough sexual things ahead. I can't believe I wrote this, for real. All this rough sex just tells me I should just write a Red Canyon Mac fic (oh shit, a crossover?) Be prepared. Also, I had to go back and fix more stuff because I'm an idiot and made a stupid error regarding the Greene family.
Ch11
"Dude, you should have seen it. She owned him," Glenn reminisced fondly retelling Rick the story of Beth trouncing Daryl, including some skillful miming. "I'd pay to see something like that again."
"So you're suggesting some sort of Woodburian death match?" Rick asked. He couldn't quite wrap his head around that story, and for the first time wished those damn surveillance cameras worked.
"Not death match, per say," Glenn didn't want to sound like a monster. "I mean, come on, Daryl doesn't get a weapon. You know, for a handicap."
Their conversation was loud enough that one of the participants of that legendary match could hear them. The more Beth thought about messing around with Daryl the more uncomfortable she got. Even if it was all for fun, whipping the man with an abusive past without warning was inappropriate. She gnawed on her nails, leaning back in her bunk with the same book she'd been trying to read for weeks. Beth finally recognized the paperback from her father's library at home. How it got to the prison was a mystery to her.
'Damn it.' She didn't get an indication that her play bothered Daryl, but the thought would haunt her until she knew for sure. Once again, she threw the half-read book aside. As it flopped on the bed she discovered a scribbled note on the inside of the paperback's jacket.
It's a good thing you didn't teach me how to shoot, right?
Beth inspected the pretty script, but decided to decipher it later. She nearly bowled-over Maggie, barely side-stepping in time, as she ran down the hallway.
"Hey, where you speeding off to?" Maggie asked.
"Uh," Beth decided not to lie. She walked backwards, still conversing with her sister. "I need to talk to Daryl. Is daddy still upset?" The latter question hung just one rung lower in priority.
"I don't think so," Maggie scrutinized her sister's strange behavior. "But I think the idea of you flirting with Daryl made him react like that."
"Flirting?" Beth blushed, but had no quick excuse. Great, it was that obvious now. "Anyway gotta go, I'll talk to you later!" She turned and ran off before Maggie could say anything else.
Due to his recent lack of sleep, adjusting the tension of his crossbow proved more of an endeavor than Daryl anticipated. Various nightmares woke him every few hours last night. He ended up pacing around outside with his last cigarette until morning. 'Thought I was past that shit, at least most of it.' He paused to stretch his neck, sitting on the floor with his back to the doorway unaware Beth entered.
"I'm sorry."
Hiding his surprise, Daryl glanced up over his shoulder at Beth. She stepped closer and dropped the riding crop to the ground.
"I shouldn't have done that yesterday, I just wasn't thinkin'." Her apology was heartfelt and sincere this time so that was a plus.
Daryl returned to modifying his crossbow, while Beth waited apprehensively for some sort of response. 'Is he that angry?'
Just as she began to despondently shuffle away he finally spoke. "You think that I couldn't get that from you in a second if I really wanted to?"
"Oh." Relief poured off of her, finally able to stand up straight without the weight of guilt. "Wait. You let me do it?"
"You got me the first time. I saw the second comin' a mile away, but you were running around like a kid on Christmas. So, I let you have that one," he said simply, giving her a cursory glance, then went back to what he was doing.
So she was worried over nothing, but…something was off. He looked worn, as if he had barely any sleep; his age was apparent in his tired eyes.
Daryl froze when Beth knelt behind him and rested her chin on his shoulder.
"Are you sure?" She asked watching his hands work. His muscular body under his thin cotton shirt tensed under her touch.
"Girl, don't you got somethin' better to do?"
"So you're not mad at me?" She asked. Her eyes peered over at what she could see of his face, gauging his expression.
"No," he said clumsily working with limited movement thanks to her leaning against him. "I'm not mad at you."
Something in Beth's gut told her he wasn't completely okay. "So what are you doing?" She asked.
Daryl snorted at her ridiculous question and she smiled. Beth felt warm and happy just sitting with him, watching him do his thing.
"I said I ain't mad. I meant it, go on now," he said.
She pushed his brown slightly shaggy hair behind his ear, and quickly kissed his cheek. "If you say so." Her hand reached along the floor, for the item she dropped. An implement like that in his possession didn't seem like a good idea. 'He did say he was fine…'
"You really wanna do that?" Daryl turned his head; his lips brushed hers purely by accident, and Beth jerked back.
Even though she kissed him before it still gave her butterflies. She paused as he removed one of the tips from a bolt and twirled it in his hand.
"Cause I got somethin' that hurts a lot more than that, will leave a welt, and I can carry it anywhere without being obvious." Daryl inwardly cringed as Michonne's words came back to him and he instantly felt guilty.
"I was just gonna get rid of it," Beth said as if she was being so very gracious. But…now she was curious. In fact, she wanted it, right then. "Probably deserve it," she said quietly.
"Shouldn't play around like that anymore," he said quickly, and shifted his arm, so she had to move. "With any of it, especially the intense stuff with a girl like you."
Beth didn't like the direction of the conversation and sat back on her heels. "What?" Didn't this talk already happen?
"You're going to bed cryin' over it, aren't you?"
He knew that? Well, now it explained Michonne's exchange with her the other day. Maybe casual sex had more of an emotional toll on her than she preferred. Could it be she wasn't as cosmopolitan as she assumed? Or was it something else? Beth immediately shot down the last thought before it disturbed her further.
"That's not what it was about," she quickly continued. "Nothing's been too much for me. In fact," she might as well get it out. "I actually want to try what you mentioned earlier."
Daryl thought back. What the hell was she talking about? "And what was that?" He finally asked.
Beth sighed and searched for a better word but couldn't come up with one. "You know…rough."
Daryl paused; words temporarily escaped him. "No, you don't."
"Yes, I do," she pressed. "I mean," she huffed at his assumption. "How would you even know if I'd like it or not?"
"Next you'll be tellin' me you want rape fantasy role play." Daryl waited for an incensed answer, but Beth either ignored or didn't get his sarcasm.
"Like, would you be yourself or would you play it as a stranger?" Beth asked.
She was still close enough for him to feel her breath on his neck. Daryl shot her a glare. "Depends if you're gonna fight back for not."
She looked deep in thought instead of put off. "Hmm…well, I'd need to think about that."
"I wasn't serious," Daryl got to his feet; discomforted by her intrigue.
"Oh, why not?" She asked looking up at him.
"Because you have no idea what you're getting into or askin' for." His was angry at her interest, because now it piqued his as well. That sure as hell wasn't going to make stopping anything easier.
"Why don't you let me decide that for myself?"
"Because, I ain't gonna be to blame when something bad happens," he said.
Beth quirked her head and furrowed her brow. "Isn't that what safe words are for?"
Daryl was at a loss. Was she really arguing with him to do this? It only proved how young and stupid she still was. He couldn't trust her to use a safe word in a scenario like that.
"That's what you want?" Daryl rubbed his face, and sighed. "Cause we really need to stop doing this." He felt like he was on repeat.
Beth discerned, what she thought, was thinly veiled disgust in his eyes. Maybe she just wasn't innocent enough for him anymore? Continuing this strange relationship was wearing them both down. She needed more than just this, and worried that her feelings for him were starting to change.
"Yes. Especially if this time you're actually serious about not doing this anymore," Beth wasn't as embarrassed over it. It seemed so long ago that she started off with only childish adoration of him. She sensed his trepidation. "But not if it puts you off."
Daryl didn't recognize the blond woman in front of him. Her softness disappeared when she looked at him. Was that his fault? Daryl honestly didn't know if he had it in him to do what she wanted, as much as he teased it before. How the hell could he explain to her that sort of scene was fast, lacked any warm-up, and could be too intense for someone even familiar with rough sex? But maybe that was needed to end this. He could start it, then stop it immediately when sensed her inevitable discomfort. 'Wait, did she say everything?'
"Fuckin' is fuckin', I don't care," he finally said flippantly.
Beth refrained from rolling her eyes. Again with that attitude? How could he act so callous to her one minute and not the next? And here she thought Jimmy was immature. She pushed herself back to her feet. "Good to know I guess," and paused leaving his cell. "You know we can be just friends."
"You want that now or after the sex?" Daryl asked.
"After," she didn't miss a beat exiting, and then quickly chastised herself. 'Jesus, when did I turn into such a sex maniac?'
Rick, Daryl, and Michonne were still gone. Beth walked the fence outside, a rifle hanging off her shoulder and a piece of rebar in her hands. She impatiently waited on them to return from Woodbury after the attack on the prison.
She shivered in chilly weather, zipping up the extra inch of her purple jacket to her chin. The grey fingerless gloves were little help to her nearly numb hands. Dark grey clouds loomed ahead with a foreboding sign of an oncoming storm, but the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle engine in the distance gave her great relief.
Running down to the gate, she caught the sight of a bus and more cars following after Daryl's bike. Cautious, she stayed back as people were unloaded, most of them elderly. Beth grabbed Glenn's arm as he passed.
"Who are these people?" She asked.
"From Woodbury," he said. "Apparently the governor lost it, and Rick decided to bring them back." Glenn walked off to help Maggie get things under control.
Beth remained outside, overwhelmed by the amount of people going indoors. There wasn't enough space, much less necessities for everyone. Carl stomped off in a fit after arguing with his father; Beth already repressed how shaken she was after he killed a young man in front of her. She crept closer to the others to overhear Rick discuss clearing out more blocks with Daryl, Glenn and Maggie. It irritated her how fast it all came on. 'What happened to making group decisions?'
She looked back out to the entrance; Michonne hadn't yet moved since they returned, sitting on the trunk of a car with her head in her hands. Before Beth could even take a step in her direction, Michonne began to walk away from the prison and back outside the gates alone; her sword dragged limply from her hand. The familiar gait reminded her of Daryl after his brother died. Something very bad happened.
Beth ran after her without thinking, until an arm reached out and accidently clotheslined her. Daryl pulled her back up to her feet before Beth even knew she fell.
"Leave her be," he said.
"What the hell is going on?" She demanded, then saw the pain in Daryl's face.
"Andrea," Daryl said and looked back in Michonne's direction.
Beth blinked. "Andrea?" Her interactions with the woman were complicated, but Beth knew Andrea only meant well.
Daryl didn't have the energy or patience to comfort Beth, not when his world continued to crumble apart around him. Anguish tore at his insides again with more unwanted retrospection.
Daryl remembered when he and Merle stumbled across Dale and his sweet looking RV outside the Atlanta area. Dale was all too happy to show them to the small camp. Daryl almost felt bad how trusting the old man was, but as Merle said, if they were that stupid then they deserved to be robbed blind.
Andrea was trouble; Daryl knew the moment he laid eyes on the blonde and her little sister. He actually thought Amy was pretty cute at first, but the girl was fucking terrified of both of them. Andrea's protective glower kept him from going within spitting distance of the two. Added to that was Amy's frightful glances like he was going to rape her at any second. City girl and her little sister at least knew how to fish, being at least semi-useful, even Merle recognized that. Suddenly he became aware that all four of them were dead.
But Daryl took Andrea's death personally. They left her behind at the farm. Daryl was convinced she'd still be alive if he took the risk to go back. He clenched his jaw. 'I would have found her.' Instantly his past failures rose to the surface. 'Really? Cause you did a stellar job tracking a ten year old girl five minutes after she ran off, so finding Andrea sounds real likely in your capable hands.' Yep, he was going to destroy something tonight.
Daryl unknowingly snorted aloud, and Beth watched him curiously; afraid to interrupt his thoughts.
'Does he know I'm here?' She wondered.
Daryl glared out into the woods. Andrea shot him, but hell, he would have too. He respected that she only tried to protect the group. They all pushed her out of the group and right into Shane's crazy arms. Didn't they remember all the shit he did? Daryl grimaced in disgust at the all the times he nearly killed someone in a hot rage. He lunged at Rick with a knife, attacked Shane, which may have been warranted, tried to kill Jim with a pick ax, and Jenner at the CDC…twice. Funny how Rick kept him from beating a Vatos kid to death in the street, but turned a blind eye to him torturing the boy at the farm.
They all judged Andrea for her suicidal thoughts after her sister died, like Jacqui, and Beth, and like fuckin' all of them at one point or another whether it was voiced or not. He raked his hand through his hair. He needed to get the hell out of there before he snapped in front of Beth; he knew she was staring.
"Daryl?" Carol walked up to the two of them, but he didn't even hear her.
"Should of went back for her," Daryl said aloud. His thoughts still taunted him. 'You're nobody's bitch, but you sure fucking backed down to Rick, didn't you?'
"You know it's not your fault, right?" Carol attempted to touch his arm, but he pulled away suddenly aware of her presence.
"Andrea belonged with us, and we let her go when she finally came back," he said angrily.
"That was her choice," Carol said. Beth silently watched with no helpful words to offer.
Daryl shook his head. He would have convinced Andrea, or fuck, just dragged her ass back until they could reverse the brain washing. He silently walked off in Michonne's direction, his eyes dark and murderous.
Beth looked helplessly to Carol. "What do we do?"
"Nothing we can do, honey."
"We can just let everyone walk away after something like this. It isn't coping!" Beth shouted. "Going out an' killing walkers alone and hurt isn't grieving." She regained some resolve. "I'm going after them."
Carol grabbed Beth's arm before she could take off, and gave her a serious motherly look. "You do that and you'll only make it worse. You know how he is. He needs his space to blow off some steam, and you don't want to be in the way of that." Beth hated that Carol was right, and looked after Daryl, as he disappeared into the darkening evening night.
Daryl stepped over another decapitated walker. He really hoped Michonne left something for him to kill. He wanted to just fucking drink until he passed out.
"An answer for an arrow," Daryl murmured. "Worst fuckin' answer ever," he rubbed his eyes and leaned back against a tree.
He vividly remembered their walk in the dark, searching for Sophia. Daryl was surprised Andrea volunteered to go with him, but had the idea she just didn't want to stay in the RV listening to Carol bawl. He distinctly recalled liking the shirt she wore, the striped one that fell off her shoulders, and found himself looking her over a bit.
Daryl scrunched his nose up and blushed at the thought of his pathetic flirting. He playfully taunted her, got her to laugh, and he even added a strut to his walk. Daryl never talked that long and at ease to a woman before. But now there was nothing left of her, he lost the book she gave him while he recovered. All he had was a stupid poem imprinted into his brain.
"Might as well quit," he bitterly spat, automatically focusing on fury instead of sorrow to grieve. Daryl wanted to hate her; she made so many fucking terrible decisions.
"She wanted to die all along; got what she fuckin' wanted- " his voice faltered as it became more difficult for him to finish the sentence.
Michonne grabbed Daryl's shoulder from behind and he didn't even flinch. He pulled her to him firmly. She silently wept into his neck, and as much as Daryl wanted to, he was too beat down as a child to join her. Michonne didn't want to talk, and that was even better. He'd let her stay there as long as she needed, but wasn't sure if she was doing it for her own comfort or for his. Daryl thought after Merle he couldn't feel this miserable anymore. He just wanted to be numb.
Beth felt like a stranger in her own home now; she entered the prison to the unfamiliar din of too many people. She was naturally shy, so her situation was incredibly anxiety inducing. Tyrese and Sasha stood separate from both groups; she didn't blame them for still being wary considering how Rick treated them. Beth realized that they were missing people too. A father and a son around her age were with them, now she assumed they were probably dead.
Too overwhelmed to play the welcoming hostess, Beth selfishly left the others to deal with settling them in and quietly shut the gate behind her and went down the silent hallway of the more recently cleared blocks. At least she could get her bearings of the area. Passing a walkway she paused looking at another gate to her left. It was open, and she glanced down the second corridor into the darkness. One of Daryl's bolts lied on the floor, and she quickly trotted down the hallway to retrieve it. 'Must have dropped it,' she thought and turned back.
A slow creak of a gate behind her made her whip her head around.
"What are you doing down here?" Daryl's sharp voice snapped her to, and dissipated her surge of fear.
"I just needed to get away from all those people," Beth was embarrassed for feeling that way. "There's nowhere to really go now to be alone."
"Shouldn't be wandering here by yourself." He swept her aside with his arm, checking where they came from.
"I'm sorry about Andrea," she handed his projectile back. "I didn't know her as well as you and some of the others." Beth didn't need to go into the details of Andrea actually trying to talk to her about life and death. It upset her, because Andrea trusted her to make the right decision, and Beth failed her. She took Daryl's silence for what it usually meant, and began walking back to the gate.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Back, obviously." She gave him a weird look.
"What's your safe word?"
"What?" A dizzying amount of adrenaline rushed her. She was shocked at the question and the timing of it.
"You heard me, so answer. I'm done repeating myself constantly around you. Get your ears checked if your hearing is that bad."
She actually had a hard time coming up with one. "Dixon," Beth turned and crossed her arms. "You're last name is my safe word." Why did he want to know that now? "You're not thinkin' here and now, are you?"
He didn't comment on her choice. "You wanna play it rough then here's your head start." With the bolt in hand he pointed to the direction out. "Then I'm coming after you. And I'm going to do whatever I want when I catch you."
Beth didn't expect to be so chilled by his voice. This was so impromptu that it didn't register; she kept looking at him as if he was crazy.
"Wastin' time," Daryl said eying her exit.
"You're doing that mindfuck thing with me again, right?"
"Fuck will be somewhere in there. You want to play it forced, right? So you better realize I ain't stopping at the word 'no'." He looked over her jeans and thin shirt. "Hope you don't care about those clothes."
She was filled with foreboding, goose bumps prickled her skin.
"You want to stop, you better say it now, otherwise you got 30 seconds," he warned leaning against the wall.
The knots in her stomach made her nauseous. Beth refused to let him see her run, but quickly rounded the corner before breaking out into a sprint. Did she want to get caught or not? She yanked on the last gate back, but it didn't budge. It was locked. Looked she didn't have a choice.
"What the hell?!" She whispered in panic. "He locked us down here?" No one could get in and she couldn't get out.
She wasn't even sure of her way in the damn labyrinth. How much time had passed? When every tiny noise echoed as if they were in a cavern how did he remain so silent? Now markedly scared, Beth inched up the hallway, wondering if she just needed to speed across. A small noise to her right caught her attention.
Daryl slammed her against the hard wall, before she could utter a shocked scream. He gripped her neck tight. Her hands grasped at his wrist, when after a few seconds he didn't let go. She looked at him wide-eyed, still unable to get any air, and dug her nails into his skin. He only smirked, unaffected, and threw her down to the floor. The impact jarred her more than expected. She thought he'd be on her in a second, but he stood over her and gripped her hair and twisted harshly; tears actually sprung in her eyes. Beth struggled to get up on her knees to ease the pain, her hand pulling at his wrist as if she could break the hold.
"You try to fight, scream, or run away, and you'll regret it," his voice was low and caustic. "Do you understand?"
She whimpered in pain at his reaffirming grip.
"Uh huh," Beth agreed desperately. It all was happening faster than she could get accustomed to, and it hurt, but not the way she thought it would.
"Not that it matters, since no one can hear you anyway." He took a couple steps, forcing her to painfully move alongside of him as he led her by the hair. Daryl released her with a shove, but Beth pushed herself up and stumbled to her feet to run away. She didn't know why she did it. He caught her arm, wrenching her back to face him and slapped her face.
Daryl was instantly sickened; and felt like someone punched him in the gut. He pulled his hands back from her as if she was poison. 'Shit.' A flash of his past crashed on top of him.
Beth sucked in a breath and opened her eyes looking fine, but startled and a little scared.
Daryl wanted to throw up at just the sight of fear in her eyes; the entire tone put him off. The abusive and rapey energy conjured up old memories he buried. Now it felt like someone was strangling him. Where did all the fucking air go?
"Fuck." Daryl took a step back and turned around. "I can't do this," his voice wavered. 'Pull it together Dixon.'
Beth hesitated; temporarily confused by the abrupt backlash. She put a hand on his shoulder concerned at how bothered he was. "Are you okay?" Beth specifically asked for it, so she instantly felt terrible.
Daryl's first instinct was to shrug her off, but he didn't. The whole atmosphere of the situation troubled him even though it was fake. Added to that was the lack of anything resembling enjoyment in her eyes.
"It was a bit much, wasn't it? I never should have said anythin'," Beth said quietly.
Putting the blame on herself so he wouldn't feel bad made Daryl feel a million times worse.
Beth expected to get roughed up, but even so, she imagined a different sort of thrill. Something was lacking; everything felt too cold and distant. And drudging up old trauma from his childhood was the last thing she wanted to do.
"Let's just go back," she said softly. "It was a stupid suggestion, and you were right about it."
"Stay put, and shut your mouth," Daryl looked at her over his shoulder. "We're changing this up. I didn't hear a safe word. Is that still the case?"
Beth was at a loss. If he could barely even look her in the face then how was this was going to work? "Change it up how?" She asked. Man, they sure had the most awkward sexual encounters ever.
"I ain't chasin' you around this damn place to wrestle you to the ground. I'm too fuckin' old to be fighting teenagers."
"Kinda old to be doing anything with me," Beth cocked her head with a tiny smile. She couldn't help it. If it lightened the mood or even annoyed him, it would at least shift his mind to something else.
He chuckled, but it sounded ominous to her.
"That's the last thing you say without consequences, got me lil girl?" He stalked up to her. "And I ain't promptin' you anymore either."
Beth looked up at him, wishing she wasn't so damn short compared to him.
"And this is the last time we do this; got me?" He had to make sure they were both on the same page.
The reiteration wasn't needed, and still crushingly disappointing. The warmth in her chest returned when he looked down at her with penetrating blue eyes and commanded things with his rough voice; that was what she missed.
"Good, that's what I wanted," she lied; actually the thought still didn't sink in yet.
"That right?" He asked mockingly. Now Daryl could at least take in the sight of her; she wasn't scared anymore, she was turned on, now it felt right.
"Better make it good then," she said haughtily.
Daryl slapped Beth's face hard, much harder than the first time. Her heart skipped a beat; the burn spread from her cheek to all over. Her body lit up in arousal. It made no sense to her.
"Good for who? Since you're fuckin' begging me to do this to you. I get it. You're a young, good little girl, and want to feel like a dirty fuckin' whore. I'll play along."
She set her jaw, and tried to shove him back but he took her by the neck and slammed her back into the wall again. It made her slightly lightheaded and she liked it. Beth bit her tongue, wanting and silently begging for another slap to her face. God, how much did she need to act out to get that again? She wanted it all.
"You think I'm gonna give you what you want for disobeying?" He snickered. He saw her lip twitch and fingers dig into her palms; contemplating physically attacking him if necessary. "You try that again and you'll go to bed very disappointed."
Well that was begging for a retort. "More so than usual?" Beth asked. If she couldn't provoke physically why not verbally?
"You wanna find out? Because I'm out of patience for your shit talk." He let her neck go, leaving her empty against the wall.
The burn of his slap was ebbing, reminding her that she needed more now. "No sir." She was very upset by that notion, as well as his distance from her.
He pulled her to him by the back of her head, growling the words just inches from her lips. "Then put that fucking mouth to use and suck my cock."
She thought he'd never ask. Her hands ripped at his pants, and lingered over his lean waist. She knelt down, taking down his clothing with her. She sweetly smiled up at him, and could tell he was uncomfortable with this. Well, she could make him forget about that shortly.
Daryl twisted her blonde hair to the top of her head with his hand, breathing hard as her deliciously soft hot mouth encircled him.
The tighter he pulled that handful of hair, the deeper she took him. He wasn't going to deny himself this time, but it his fucking orgasm still hit him faster than he expected.
"You're gonna take every fuckin' drop of it, ain't you?"
Beth nodded enthusiastically, and he groaned, drawing her head closer. She could tell by the pace and stiffness of him in that he was close, and allowed him to fuck her mouth until he came. It took everything she had to focus on not choking on how deep he thrust himself down her throat. She fell back with a ragged breath and the back of her hand brushed her mouth as she swallowed. Her eyes were a little watery, but it had been a long time.
Daryl yanked her upwards pressing her against the wall again, and forced his tongue into her mouth. She guessed he didn't mind, and it turned her on. She got a little aggressive biting his lip, scratching at his shirt, and kissing him back as deeply as he let her. He put a hand to her chest and forcefully pushed her back enough that her lips couldn't reach his.
"You are too fuckin' good at that," he whispered.
She growled in annoyance, and was about to throw herself forward again until Daryl ran his hand down the side of her face. She fought everything in her to take what she wanted and stayed where he put her. Daryl rewarded her with another smack to her cheek. Beth's eyes rolled back with the sting she began to miss.
"I'm gonna fuck you until you scream my name, and I don't care who the hell hears it."
Beth was using the wall for support to keep upright, and her hands found themselves on his insanely toned arms.
"You're my little slut, aren't you?" Daryl grasped her face in his hands, and she bit her lip. "Say it."
"Y-yes," she huskily breathed. He looked so fucking sexy staring down at her; it even felt like his eyes were fucking her as he looked her over.
'Louder," he growled. "Look me in the eyes and say you're my fucking slut." He locked her bright big eyes with his.
"I'm your fucking slut!" She shouted. The cool calm air of control that he exuded had her completely at his whim. He pulled her hair back viciously, and jammed his fingers into her mouth, forcing it open.
"That's right; you want it all don't you?" He curled his lip with a menacing smile.
Beth looked innocently at him while she attempted to speak, but he quickly pulled his fingers out and spit in her mouth. He pushed her back to the ground, but she barely acknowledged it in her shocked state.
She licked her lips and grunted in pain. Did he just…do that? Her chest felt heavy, what was wrong with her? This was so very, very bad. No one normal got off on this. Did this make him disgusted with her? Beth got distracted with her worry.
"You like that, don't you girl?" Daryl adjusted his pants back and walked around her, eying her carefully for distress, giving her a chance to stop. He got carried away in that last little bit, but was eager to keep going if she was game.
"Yes…sir. D-do you?" Beth asked, afraid to look up at him. She couldn't endure looking at his face; not when she felt so dirty.
"I just came in your mouth a minute ago and I can fuck you again right now." He paused. "Beth, look at me." She timidly raised her eyes. He almost was smiling. "I do." That was all that needed to be said, but he couldn't leave it at that. His lips quirked. "I'd eat my own cum out that fucking pussy, girl."
The juxtaposition was jarring; Beth's face was still hot from being slapped and now from his words.
"You want to be my fucking slut right?" Daryl pressed his boot on her ass and shoved her forward. "Come on, then."
"D-Daryl," she stuttered, barely able to keep her limbs moving to stay on her hands and knees.
He bent down beside her, "What's the matter, babe? Think you're too cute and sweet to crawl for me?" Daryl stood up, and swung the bolt she forgot he had, straight across her ass.
She cried out, the sharp pain was much more punishing than his hand. "No, sir!" She didn't mean to be that loud. The intense sting from the blow made her break out into a light sweat.
"Then go, Jesus, do I need a leash to drag you around on?" He whacked her again, and she nearly just fell over, having to take a moment to take a needed breath and focus. Beth crawled ahead a bit, until he pushed her with his boot into the side hallway. "Now I wasn't joking about the clothes. Lose them fast, or you'll have a lot to explain to those old people."
Beth could barely maneuver her hands to do what she wanted. Yeah, maybe going into hardcore rough sex was a bit drastic. This direction he decided on was still almost too fervent, but she loved it. Struggling unbuttoning her jeans with shaky hands, Beth really didn't want them to be destroyed. Daryl didn't give a fuck though, her back hit the concrete floor as he ripped down her tight fitting pants impatiently, yanking them off her legs along with her sneakers and left sock.
"How do you wanna be fucked? On your hands and knees, on your back, on top?"
"Um, what-whatever," Beth found it difficult to piece together a simple sentence, pulling her shirt off over her head. She gasped and fell back again as his hand dove right down into the soaking wet thin fabric of her underwear.
Daryl's heavy breath was in her ear. "Fuck girl. You get so fucking wet from that. Makes my job easier." He pulled his fingers out of her to tear off her panties.
She shrieked in disapproval, but was silenced when the wet fingers were shoved in her mouth again. Her hands gripped at his shirt, ripping off some of the buttons to open it all the way.
"Always a problem, that damn mouth of yours," he leaned over in between her legs, his free hand going to his half-done pants. He didn't bother discarding his shredded shirt. Unfortunately, Beth found him even hotter, and thought she might have a fetish regarding things in her mouth.
"Next time you fuck another guy you're only gonna think of me, ain't ya?" He smirked, not realizing how brutally the idea struck her. "I'd love to fuck you on your hands and knees, but I just got to see that sweet face of yours when you cum for me."
He filled her with one quick thrust; she nearly choked on his fingers still in her mouth until he finally pulled them out to thrust into her steadily.
Daryl kept his pace and depth steady and gripped her hips; his hands pulled her to him perfectly so that she was almost instantly brought to climax. Beth was so in the zone, she couldn't do anything, but just take it. She managed to get an arm around the back of his neck, keeping him close like she wanted. It was so fucking perfect; she parted her lips with another moan her eyes closed tight.
"Look at me," Daryl demanded.
She fluttered her lust heavy eyes open, and swallowed hard seeing his face, those lips, and eyes. She loved every part of him. Beth's breath suddenly got stuck in her throat.
"Nobody can get you off like I can," he said running his thumb over her parted lower lip. "Ain't that right?"
She whimpered and nodded, the world got fuzzy because her eyes clouded with tears. Not only could she not imagine doing anything like this with anyone else, but she didn't want to.
"I'm gonna miss this fucking body of yours, sweetheart," Daryl kissed her jaw, his facial scratched against her skin, and she winced because of how much she fucking loved the feel of it.
The lump in her throat prevented any deep breaths she needed. Beth thought she was going to pass out. She was drowning underneath him.
"Stop," Beth begged.
"Why would I stop? I'm far from being done with you," Daryl taunted. It wasn't the safe word, but something was amiss
"I can't," Beth feebly tried to suck in a breath.
"Talk to me, baby." He slowly stopped, and cupped the side of her face with his hand.
That did it. She burst into tears.
"Beth?"
"I'm sorry," she wheezed.
"What are you talkin' about?" Daryl raised an eyebrow. "Did you forget I nearly had a panic attack a second ago?"
Beth shook her head, trying to stop her sobs. Oh God, what was she doing? "I'm so sorry, I just...," she took another heaving crying breath. "I…love you."
Daryl furrowed his brow as anxiety overpowered him. "Shh, it's alright." He pulled her against him, so she couldn't see his face. His chest constricted with lack of air, because he forgot to breathe.
Beth knew it was true as soon as she said it. She heard him swallow roughly being pressed against his neck.
"I know you don't feel the same way," she gained a little more articulateness to her voice. "And that's fine." She inhaled deeply, cursing herself for crying so much. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
Daryl shut his eyes tightly. She was mistaken, confused, and under a lot of endorphins; he didn't expect clarity from her. She did not love him. He found himself suddenly breathing hard.
"Nothing to be sorry about," he finally spoke in a broken voice, and opened his eyes focusing on the grooves in the cinderblock walls to keep it together. He didn't even know how to recognize an emotion like that, and what the fuck was he supposed to say? All he knew was that for the second time that day the ground felt like it gave way beneath him. He pushed his lips to her hair, then put a hand to his head. He didn't want to end it on this note, but sex at this point didn't seem feasible. Maybe it was all for the best.
"You are so sweet, Beth. You fuckin' kill me sometimes," Daryl tilted her face up to his. He kissed her slightly swollen lips, she tasted salty from tears, and he felt her slightly try to pull back. Daryl didn't let her, firmly grasping her face and delving his tongue slowly into her mouth. It was so deep, slow, and intimate that when Beth slowly began to kiss him back Daryl felt a pang in his chest.
He quickly broke away and pressed his forehead to hers, catching his breath as if he ran a marathon. Daryl squeezed his eyes shut. "I…" he spoke haltingly and not by choice, "I don't know what to say," He physically bit his lower lip to quell rise of the disturbing unstableness he felt.
"Don't say anything." She looked up at him as he finally righted himself up; his eyes looked away.
Beth reached for her sock, the closest article of clothing to her. Goddamn it, she hated the world. She wiped her eyes with her arm, and sniffed back her runny nose. It wasn't like they were never going to see each other again. Maybe that made it worse. He was already dressed and gathered her shoes for her.
"I'm sorry about the shirt," she said. His hand gripped hers and pulled her to her feet.
He put both hands on the sides of her face, "Go ahead, I'll be right behind you," he said still not able to look at her. He didn't know what would happen if he did, and now couldn't stand the thought of the disappointed look on her face, as she left him there. Everything in his life was a chaotic fucking mess. Was this what Rick felt as he lost it? He felt dangerously close to falling over the edge. Daryl's eyes burned from holding back the overwhelming emotion for so long. He nonsensically thought about punching the wall even though it would likely break his hand, because he wasn't going to cry over her.
Beth paused as she made her way down the corridor; it was hard to conceal the echoes off empty halls. She heard Daryl clear his throat from the thickness that coated it and he followed it by a deep shaky breath. Beth dried her eyes for nothing, and broke down again, stifling her sobbing best she could. But going back wasn't an option anymore, so she kept going forward.
End note:
Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing and please keep doing so…even if you hate me now. What do you think of the whole thing? I don't think Daryl even truly knows how he feels about the women in his life, because even though he may feel something, I don't think he knows what word/emotion to put to it. We'll see what happens in season 4.
I chose to end with a somewhat realistic ending than something contrived. I also made an effort not to hate on Carol or Andrea, two polarizing but great characters. Glad I'm not the only fan of Daryl/Beth (I also like the idea of him with Andrea too).
Oh yeah…there's a very, very short epilogue. I'll have that up within the next 24 or so hours.
