Oh my God, I can't believe I'm uploading Tonight I wanna dance for you again! Ah!
"Why'd you go hasslin' for that damn 'partment if you're never gonna be there?"
"You got a problem with me bein' here dipshit?" Beth laughs, throwing a piece of candy in the air and catching it.
Merle snorts and tosses a piece too, catching it between his teeth with a triumphant smirk. "Nah, I like the screamin'."
She laughs and kicks him forcefully in the knee, reaching over from her spot on the couch to do so. Opening her mouth to deliver some kind of insult, she's distracted by Daryl stepping through the door, rolling his eyes when he finds his girlfriend and his brother bickering on the couch in their sweats and the TV on.
"You pigs moved since I left?" He mutters good-naturedly, a smirk struggling at his mouth.
Beth tilts her head back over the sofa to look at him. "Did you get 'em?"
"Did I go an' get the fourth damn pack of Cheeto's you been crabbin' 'bout for the past hour?" He asks with a raised eyebrow, leaning against the counter.
"Well did you or not broth'a?" Merle says into the silence.
Rolling his eyes, Daryl reaches in the bag he came in with and tosses them a bag of Cheeto's which her and Merle promptly fight over until he starts tickling her and she screams for mercy, smirking in victory when her boyfriend comes to the rescue and grabs Merle around the throat, digging his knuckles into his brothers head while Merle cusses.
When their play fighting's over, Merle throws her a dark look. "Can't handle the heat princess, best get outta the kitchen. Lova boy ain't gonna be here to protect you all the time."
Beth jabs him with her toe, allowing Daryl to manhandle her as he climbs onto the couch and arranges her in his lap. "Fuck off, Merle."
"Never heard my own name so much in all my goddamn life," Merle mutters but there's a smile there that grows more and more lately.
She smiles and tilts her neck back to kiss the underside of Daryl's jaw. "Thanks for the Cheetos. You comin' in tonight?"
He nods. "Gotta see my girl sing."
It's been two months but she still flushes a vicious shade of red at the thought of Daryl watching her sing and being 'his girl.' On the weekdays, she just wipes down tables and serves drinks, smiles nice and orders food since that's what they do in the evenings. On Saturday's she sings with the crowd being more robust and upbeat.
Sometimes Daryl will talk her into doing a soft song on her guitar and usually, it's original since she covers songs on Saturday's and they don't work on a Sunday. She's still looking for other places to work but she has to admit, even just to herself, that she's not looking too hard. She just likes the dynamic too much, she likes being around the Dixon boys.
Daryl is all hulking, gorgeous, possessive male who screws her in a way that is only depicted in romance novels and Merle is the crazy overprotective brother she never found in Shawn. By the time Beth came along, he was so used to being little brother to Maggie that he didn't have time for her and their bond never really grew.
Sure, they love each other but she couldn't really call him on a Friday evening and ask him to hang out, even if he wasn't currently living up in New York as a hotshot photographer. Looking at the two of them, Beth's not even sure how they made it to this point, it just happened.
Working at the club first, then staying over more frequently at Daryl's, seeing Merle. Then some nights Daryl would work and she wouldn't, but she would come over and hang out until the two boys got back or watched some shitty TV show with Merle. Some nights she works and they don't, but that's fine because she likes the break they take from each other.
It makes the time they spend together fun, not overbearing and she thinks that's why the whole thing is working out. Tilting her chin back to look at Daryl, she nuzzles into him and lets her eyes close for a second. He's become so important to her. Everything about him: the sex, the jokes, the shows he likes, the smell of cigarettes on his clothes.
He and Merle, the club, this apartment, its steady fast become a part of her life and thinking about how they all met is like a distant memory. Everyone at the club thinks they're in some freaky threesome relationship, but she just loves spending time with her boys and she knows she's got Merle wrapped around her finger as tight as Daryl since he's the one constantly telling her so.
They're so ingrained into her life at this point that she barely goes home. They're not saying it aloud, but she practically lives here. Her clothes are in the washing machine, her favourite mug on the drainer and her hair is in the brush on the side, the one that Merle cleans out every morning with his disgusted ranting.
She might as well move in, she knows this and she thinks the boys know it too, but she's not ready. It's been barely any time at all and she knows how she feels and she's pretty sure she knows how Daryl feels, she knows how comfortable her life is right now, but how long can that really go on for?
She still wants more than this. More than TV during the day and working shifts at the club. She can't do this forever and she doesn't want to. Just because her dream bust doesn't mean it's gone or lessened in its intensity. If anything it's burning inside her, rampant and desperate, forcing her awake at two am with blurry eyes, and hastily scribbling lyrics on takeout pizza boxes.
Her only outlet is the club on Saturday's where she gets to sing and sing and sing, keeping the crowd upbeat. It's pretty much one of the only days she gets dressed up and it's Daryl's favourite day to mess her up. He loves fucking her before she or both of them leave for work, says he gets a kick knowing his cum is dribbling down her thigh.
Ever since he cum in her on his desk in his office, it's all they do now. No more pulling out, no condoms. It's dangerous, she knows this but she's protected and she does a test every week. Maybe that's too paranoid but she's really not in the position to have kids and she doesn't particularly want them.
Daryl is in complete agreement with her, she knows after a late night pillow talk. He's older than her, but he says he still feels too young, not ready and she's fine with that because she's too young, not ready either. She wants her career first and she's determined to get it, whatever way she can.
This forces her eyes open and her head up. "Time is it?"
Merle grunts when she jolts him and fishes for her phone in the crack of the sofa. "Seven."
She stretches with a groan, pressing her ass into Daryl's crotch. He grunts and then coughs to cover it up, his arm banding around her waist to keep her still. "You gettin' ready?"
"Yeah," she breathes against his mouth as she turns for a kiss. "Call me when you're leavin'."
He nods and she gets up off the couch to go and get ready for work, a smile working her mouth when she hears Merle mutter, "don't know why she bothers, you always fuck up her lipstick anyhow."
A pillow smacks off of flesh and Merle cusses.
Nearly an hour later, she's ready for the second time after Daryl forces her to her knees and feeds her his cock, smearing her lipstick just like Merle said and ruining her eyeliner to boot since her eyes streamed from lack of air. They're practically running out the door at eight since they're a ten-minute drive from the club and doors open now.
It's not like it's really necessary for Daryl to be there at open up but it gets busy fast on a Saturday and Beth needs to be there from the get-go. They pull in, kiss each other and then break away and when they climb out the car, she knows it'll be like that for the rest of the night.
Dixon's is popular and busy so they'll catch glances of each through the night but won't interact. She's right as usual because she doesn't get a glimpse of him until just before she goes on stage.
It's unreal tonight, packed from wall to wall and rumour is, it's because of her. Daniel behind the bar says the customs tripled since she started singing and she doesn't want to let it get to her head but it does.
Daryl grips her before she goes up, kisses her hard on the mouth and then with hot eyes says, "sing the song."
She knows exactly what song he's talking about and the minute she's on stage singing the first note, her eyes finding him on the floor, she knows she's going to get fucked so hard tonight it's a good job the club doesn't open on Sundays.
"Omg, omg, yes," Beth moans, her throat arched back and her skin shining.
Daryl sees this from where he's between her legs, thighs hooked over his arms and tucked into his elbows, his hands gripping his girlfriend's ass cheeks filling out his palms. Jesus, his girl is so thick in all the right places it's like she was fucking made for him.
She never fails to make his cock pound full of blood and in that damn dress she was in tonight, there's no exception. Black and slinky, it's still bunched up around her waist now, panties hanging off of one ankle that's quivering up by his ear as his tongue traces her clit, digging deep in the top right corner because it's his favourite spot and it never fails to make her shake.
"Daryl, oh God," she breathes again and he turns his eyes back up to her where they fell to her pussy.
He's always so damn torn, can never decide where to look. Her perky little tits, her tight stomach clenching with the effort of holding off her orgasm or her clenched eyes, her pouty mouth hanging open. He's nearly got her and he could go in for the kill now but he waits and teases her some more, tongue slow and soft until she spasms.
Four spasms in a row and he knows he's got her, but he still waits, dragging out the torture because she deserves it. He wants her to know how much her dripping cunt and her gorgeous body in that damn dress kills him. The heels are undone too, although some lace strings are stroking his shoulder because he pounced before she got the second shoe off.
One, two, three, four… five spasms in a row and he knows she can't take no more. Her stomachs jumping and she's barely breathing; if he keeps dragging this out his girls gonna go into cardiac arrest. Smiling into her moist, hot flesh, he digs his tongue down into her cunt and goes for gold, pressing a rough finger to the ridged band of muscles between her ass cheeks.
Beth keens and then cum is filling his mouth, his name like a prayer on her tongue and chanted five, six times over before she breaks off into pure fucking nonsense. He growls as he kisses up her body, curving her into his side. She slings her leg over his body and shakes the shoe without success until he finds pity and pulls it off for her.
This is enough for Beth because she sighs in contentment, snuggling down into his chest despite her dress still wrapped around her waist. His cock is hard and raging, pushing against his jean fly so hard it might damn break with the pressure, but she's already snoring and he's not down for cumming unless it's in some part of her.
He lets a little time tick by before he slides out from under her, dipping his fingers between her legs just once to feel the cum dripping down her thighs and the tight band of her cunt on his finger after an orgasm. She groans thickly in her sleep and he's so damn tempted to fuck her awake it closes his throat, but she's tired and he doesn't, moving away instead.
Daryl's quiet as he walks into the open plan living room, finding Merle munching on some form of heart attack. He doesn't look over his shoulder when he says, "might've been ya best one so far boy," without looking away from the TV.
Snorting, Daryl ignores him and shakes his head, searching for a beer in the fridge. His brother is weirdly involved in his sex life but he's never cared before and he's glad Beth don't neither. He stands against the counter and glugs on his beer, watching the TV from the kitchen, squinting to see through the dark.
Merle finally pauses watching to glance over his shoulder at Daryl with narrowed eyes. "Why you in here skulkin' when your blonde bombshell could be sortin' that zip breakin' dick you got goin' on there?"
Daryl curses as he rearranges his aching cock more comfortably. "Knock it off Merle." There's only so much involvement he can take.
Merle shrugs, turning back to the TV. "Avoid the question then, ain't my problem."
Grunting, he walks into the living room and sinks into the sofa with a groan. "Ain't told Beth somethin' I should'a." Merle pretends like he's not interested, but his eyes keep flicking to Daryl from the corner. "Some pig-headed recruiter come round tonight, said he wanted to see Beth sing. Asked him why, said he might be down to offerin' her somethin', a little deal in some record company."
Merle's attention is snagged and for the first time in all his life, Daryl's older brother turns off the TV and gives Daryl his full attention. "That girl dreams of singin' an' you didn't tell her she got a shot?"
"Only come by tonight Merle, Jesus."
He sounds pissed but they both know he's bullshitting through it. He likes how much Merle likes Beth, he likes how much she likes his overbearing damn brother too, someone he doesn't like a lot of the time his own damn self.
"You gonna tell her?" Merle asks.
Daryl shrugs. "Know I should. Don't wanna. S'bad, huh?"
"Real goddamn bad," Merle straight up answers. "Cain't keep her away from her life littl' broth'a. She's always gonna wanna sing, they'll be someone else. Shoot me down but the girl can carry a tune, someone's gonna snap her up."
"Tha's the point," Daryl mutters darkly, looking towards the bedroom where he's pretty goddamn sure the love of his life is sleeping. "I don't wanna let her go, Merle.