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Chapter Text

It was such a hot day in August, Beth had taken to wearing her bad-girl shorts again. At least, that’s what her mama always called them, ‘cause they were way too short and gave off too much of your figure, honey-pie. Beth didn’t care much, though. Mama was long-gone now, but the shorts were still folded in the back of her closet, and there was no one around to say no. Sorry Mama, Beth’d whispered, plucking them off the shelf. Bless your soul, but I can’t live like a nun forever.

That day, Rick put her and Maggie on water duty. Maggie got caught up in something—no doubt having to do with Glenn, the loft in the barn, and very few articles of clothing—and anxiously asked her to go alone. Beth told her she didn’t mind. She preferred the solitude, anyway. The sound of the birds and the creek and the taste of the cool air always put her in a better state of mind.

That’s how she found herself alone in the woods with two rednecks, wearing her bad-girl shorts. A dangerous situation, her mama would’ve called it. In her defense, she didn’t know the Dixon boys would be there. Honest. This early in the day, Merle was usually sleeping off a hangover under one of the oaks, and Daryl—well, Daryl hardly ever left his tent at all. That day, though, they’d decided to come out to the creek to do God-knows-what. When she glanced over her shoulder, Beth saw that Merle was leaned against a tree, lighting a cigarette, and Daryl was fiddling around with something in the popped hood of his truck.

At the sight of her, Merle smiled and gave a wave. Beth waved timidly back. He said something, but she was too far away to hear. He repeated it, louder: Whatcha doin’ all by yourself out here, girl? She pointed to the buckets stacked on the wheelbarrow she’d brought. Daryl then looked up, curious to see who the hell Merle was chatting to at this time of day, and seemed startled to see Beth Greene there. Merle whispered something to him and began to laugh. Daryl’s face soured.

Were they talking about her? Beth didn’t know. They might’ve been. What about her was making Merle laugh like that? Was it her shorts? The ribbons she’d put in her hair today? Were they laughing at her efforts to look grown in vain, ‘cause underneath it all they still thought she was a kid, nineteen years old and only just a little kid? Her cheeks burned. She suddenly wished she’d worn something a little less showy. She picked up a bucket and brought it to the mouth of the creek, painfully conscious of how her tiny shorts hiked up her ass as she bent over.

When she glanced back over her shoulder, she saw that Merle was still looking at her, smiling. This time there was nothing friendly in his gaze. His eyes had gone cold, narrow, dark with something she couldn’t place. Daryl was red in the face, chewing his bottom lip. Something about her clearly seemed to have bothered him. But when he brought his eyes up another time, hesitantly, and quickly dropped his gaze the moment he saw her looking—she knew. She didn’t have much experience with men—full-grown ones, at least—but she knew enough of the world to understand this. She was turning them on.

The next time she bent over with the bucket, she couldn’t resist a smile. She made no effort to pull her shorts down lower, obscure the view. She knew they were looking. Something about that made her heart beat faster. They were looking at her. Probably thinking all sorts of dirty things, too, the likes of which she couldn’t imagine. She knew it was wrong. Dangerous, her mama would’ve said. Only, there’s no danger in getting something if you truly wanted it.

Behind her, Merle let out a low whistle. “Hey, sugar. Your daddy let you outta the house dressed like that?”

She snuck another glance over her shoulder, shot him a shy smile. She feigned innocence. “Like what?”

“Like cherry pie,” he said. “Girl, I just wanna eat you up.”

Daryl threw a wrench at Merle and hissed, “Shut your mouth, you dumb horny bastard. You’re gon’ scare the poor girl.”

Beth’s heart was about to beat out her chest now. No one’s ever talked like this to her before. She was a pretty girl, and she knew that, but her daddy always kept such a tight rein on her. She hardly left the house except to go to school, and never past dark. There were, of course, boys who’d taken a shine to her in class. One of them, Jimmy what’s-his-face, she’d even taken it upon herself to date. Her mama just thought that was so cute. She said Jimmy was the sweetest, politest, most all-American church-going boy she’d ever seen in her life. She had no clue that they’d sneak into the janitor’s closet during lunch breaks to make out, or that once she’d even let him into her bedroom when her parents were both out in the garden and— Well, but that was nothing worth noting. It didn’t feel nearly as good as she’d hoped. All her girl friends told her it was like magic, sex. She didn’t feel any magic in it. She longed, just once, to enter this secret world everyone seemed to have gotten a glimpse of except for her. She longed for the kind of hair-pulling, teeth-sinking, up-against-the-wall sex that left you breathless in the end.

Of course, Mama never knew that. And if she did, she likely would’ve burned Beth’s bad-girl shorts instead of tucking them in the back of the drawer.

So when Merle called her that—“cherry pie”—she didn’t startle. Didn’t go red. Didn’t bite her lip, tuck tail, and run away. If anything, she was intrigued. She set down the bucket and walked over to them. They both stared hard at her. Daryl’s eyes were wary, and Merle’s eager.

“What d’you mean,” she asked, pouting, “you wanna eat me up?”

Merle faltered. For once in his life, he struggled with what to say. “I just mean… you know… with your hair done up like that… and your shorts… and the way you were lookin’ at me just now…”

“You wanna fuck me, don’t you?”

Daryl choked. Merle’s mouth came open in shock, nearly dropping the cigarette. A strange sense of victory fluttered in Beth’s stomach.

“Girl,” Merle said, lowly, “I don’t think you know the meanin’ o’ that word.”

“I’m not as innocent as you think,” she shot back.

Slowly, a smile spread across Merle’s face. “Oh, kid, I believe it.”

Daryl was uneasy about where this was going. He kicked a pebble at Beth, like she was an errant puppy he was tryna shoo away, and said, “Go pick up the water n’ scram, girl. You’re playin’ with fire.”

There was no getting through to them. Only one thing left to do. Squaring her shoulders, Beth got up on tiptoe and kissed Merle. She shut her eyes tight so she couldn’t see his face while she did it. When she pulled back, she stared timidly up at him and found that he wasn’t smiling anymore. His face was red, his eyes shining.

“Oh, honey,” he said. “You got no clue what you’re gettin’ yourself into, do you?”

Before she had time to speak, he’d pounced upon her, pinning her to the side of the truck with a loud thud and an ache in her back. His hands were everywhere. Tousling her hair, clawing at her cheeks, her shoulders, her hips. His mouth was back on hers. He was kissing her so hard and touching her so desperately, she couldn’t register what the hell was going on. She only knew that Merle’s mouth tasted like smoke and the whiskey her mama never let her touch, and that it felt good. So good.

Beth felt his hands on her shoulders, easing his weight on her. Without opening her eyes, she let his hands guide her into whatever position he wanted. He got her to her knees. Suddenly she found herself face-to-face with Merle’s crotch, and she could see the outline of his hard cock through his denim jeans.

He brushed her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “My, my. Ain’t you pretty.”

“What d’you wanna do to me?” Her mouth trembled.

“Just wait and see, little girl.”

“Merle,” Daryl said, hoarsely. “You shouldn’t. Christ, hold old is she?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, brother, it’s the end of the world,” Merle said. “There ain’t nobody around to tell us no.” His eyes flickered lazily to Daryl, who made a show of pretending not to look at them, though his face had gone deep red. “Once I’m done with ‘er, brother, you can have a turn.”

“Christ, Merle, you’re speakin’ ‘bout ‘er like she’s a damn toy—“

“You want to, don’tcha, darlin’?” Merle asked, stroking Beth’s face as she stared up at him with those big blue eyes. “You want my little brother to come over here n’ fuck ya?”

She glanced at Daryl. He was breathing funny now, his skin gleaming with sweat and petrol from working the truck in the hot sun all day. “Yes,” she confessed. “I do.”

Merle smiled wide. “Not until I’m done with ya, honey.”

His big, calloused hands went to undo his belt. Beth watched, hungry, as he cast it aside and roughly pulled down his jeans. He wore nothing underneath. His cock was staring her right in the face, big and hard and throbbing.

He wasted no time. Tangling his fingers through her hair, he pulled her head down so that her lips brushed his cock. “Suck it,” he said.

She shut her eyes and opened her mouth wide and sucked him just as he asked. It was a little hard to work around his length, at first. None of the clumsy teenage boys she’d welcomed into her bedroom were ever this big. She got the sense, bobbing her head up and down Merle’s hard cock, that this was a real man. For once in her life, she was fucking a real bona fide man.

His fingers flexed, tightening his grasp on her hair. He began to buck into her mouth, smiling, hollering out, “Oh yeah, sugar. Jus’ like that.”

She pulled him out of her mouth just to catch her breath. He took the opportunity to wipe the spit off her jaw and caress her face with one big, rough hand. She leaned down again. Before she could wrap her lips around his cock, he pulled her back by her ponytail.

“No more o’ that, honey,” he said. “Turn around. I wanna fuck you for real.”

Her heart stuttered and her eyes fluttered open. “Right here? Out in the open?” Those pretty blue eyes glanced sidelong at Daryl, as if to say, with your brother watching?

“Oh, pardon me,” he said, smiling like the goddamn Devil, “I forgot we had a guest. I’ve been awful rude, haven’t I?”

Daryl didn’t dare look, making a pretense of fixing up the truck even when he had no clue what his hands were doing. “You two go right ahead,” he grunted out. “Not like you weren’t bangin’ chicks on the sofa two at a time all through high school, right where Pa could see.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Merle said, smiling even wider. “I’ve been awful rude for hoggin’ her. Why don’tcha come o’er here, brother, and give ‘er a try?”

Daryl’s breath hitched. He shot Merle a scandalized look, his eyes dark with anger. “Merle—“

“I don’t mind,” Beth butted in.

She was still on hands-and-knees, her hair tousled and her face slick with spit. Daryl gazed down at her like he didn’t even recognize her. He looked good today, she thought as her eyes roved over his body. His hands, big and bruised and black with motor oil. The muscles straining out of his arms in his sleeveless vest, skin gold from the sun. Dark shaggy hair in his hooded eyes.

“Beth,” he said, weakly. “You’re outta your mind.”

“No, I ain’t,” she said. Then, batting her lashes up at him, she whispered, “You know, I… I really like you, Daryl.”

With that, she had him hooked. His face flushed. He rustled his hair back, let out a deep sigh, and came to stand in front of her, gazing at the ground.

Merle slapped her ass through her denim shorts. She could hear the smile in his voice, “That’s the spirit, brother. Hope you don’t mind takin’ her mouth, ‘cause I call dibs on this sweet little ass.”

She felt Merle’s rough hands on her hips, then the cold denim sliding down her thighs. She was already hot between the legs. As Merle rubbed at her damp pussy, getting her all nice and wet for him, she turned her eyes up to Daryl. He was sitting in front of her with his legs spread wide apart, his hard cock tenting his jeans. Both of their faces were red, eyes half-lidded—Beth with desire, and Daryl with shame. He didn’t want to admit to himself just how bad he wanted it. How he’d likely spent hours wide-awake at night, picturing her just like this.

He glanced up at Merle, making sure he wasn’t looking. Then, with shaking hands, he undid the clasp on his belt. With Merle, Beth had only been eager to see what was under his pants; but with Daryl, it wasn’t a mere desire. It was a need. If he took any longer to slip those mucked-up old jeans down his thighs, she thought she’d go mad with wanting. Even before his hard cock was pressed up against her waiting mouth, she couldn’t resist bucking back against Merle’s fingers, moaning, overcome with lust.

Finally, Daryl slid his jeans and his boxers down around his ankles, his old leather belt thrown in the grass somewhere. He held his palm over his bare cock, as if to stop his brother from seeing. To hold on to this slightest bit of decency. Beth, however, had no desire for decency. Before his pants were even all the way off, she was leaning in, wrapping her lips around the head of his cock, aching to taste him.

She felt something hard press into her and realized that Merle had nearly his whole length in her cunt. With a deep groan, he began to thrust. Beth bucked forward with the force, accidentally throating Daryl deeper than she’d intended. She felt the tip of his cock hit against her throat. The sensation made her gag, but Daryl seemed to like it, throwing his head back and sighing. His hair was damp with sweat. Without realizing he did it, he reached to grab her hair, to pull her mouth even farther down, to force himself even deeper.

It was overwhelming, to say the least. One man in her cunt and the other in her mouth. Before this, she’d be lucky if Jimmy agreed to even finger her under her bedsheets. Their sighs mingled into one, animalistic sounds of pleasure—Merle’s hard, throaty grunts; Daryl’s groans softer, but still full of gravel. Though it’d hurt somewhat at first, they soon fell into a perfect rhythm. Beth’s body reeled forward with every one of Merle’s thrusts, her head bobbing back and forth between Daryl’s legs. The feeling was indescribable. It’d never been this good with any of the other boys she’d taken to bed. Merle knew exactly where to touch her, exactly how fast she wanted it, exactly which spot to hit to shoot ecstasy up her spine. Daryl was a gentler man. He stroked her jaw as he fucked her mouth. His skin was so soft against her tongue and tasted of salt. Most of all, she liked looking at him. She opened her eyes now and then to sweep her sweet innocent gaze over his face—his sweat-soaked neck, his gritted teeth, and his eyes. Especially his eyes. He looked almost guilty at what he was doing, but every time she ran her tongue over the tip of his cock, his eyes would tilt back and his lashes would flutter closed. He was enjoying this. He enjoyed it so much, he couldn’t stand it.

Merle shifted so he could fuck her even harder. She saw his hands sink into the dirt around her and felt him bucking in even deeper, felt the fire shoot up her spine even faster. She couldn’t hold out much longer. Her breaths grew labored. She whined out around Daryl’s cock, tears in her eyes. So good, she wanted to moan. To scream out. This feels so fucking good. The fire grew. It was too much, all just too much. Their rough hands all over her, in her hair, on her hips, stroking, slapping. The sound of skin on skin, the smell of sweat. She couldn’t. God knows she couldn’t hold out much longer, it was too much, she was gonna explode, she was gonna—

Then Daryl took her head in his hands, and tilted it up to look at her. Their eyes locked. His cheeks had gone pink and there was sweat dripping down his temples and he had the bluest eyes in the world and dear God, she was coming. She was coming with his brother’s cock eight inches deep in her cunt, and he just sat there and watched it happen.

Merle, panting, pulled his cock out of her. She felt so good, but even he had the foresight not to come inside a teenage girl—in the middle of the apocalypse, no less. On the verge of climax, he rubbed himself up against her ass until he was finished, letting out one final grunt of exertion.

Beth was still reeling from what had just happened. There was something hot in her mouth, something hot dripping down her back. She panted hard, watching the men get up. Daryl shimmied his jeans back up his hips. Merle clasped his belt buckle. Daryl lit a cigarette and Merle wiped the sweat from his brow, saying nothing to each other, with the casual air of boys changing out of their sports clothes after gym class. Meanwhile Beth was still naked on all fours in the grass, blinking her wide eyes up at them.

“C’mon, girl, get up,” Merle said, lighting his own cigarette. “Someone’s still gotta haul those buckets back to camp.”

Daryl took a much more caring approach. He brought her clothes over to her, neatly-folded, and reached a hand out to help her up. “Don’tcha listen to him,” he said. He stared at the ground, unable to look her in the eyes. “I’ll take care o’ it. You jus’ go and get yourself cleaned up, Beth.”

That’s when she realized it. Clasping up her bra with trembling hands, she realized that, for the first time in her life, she’d gotten the dirty down-low fucking she’d always dreamed of. And she liked it a whole lot more than maybe she should’ve.

Chapter Text

“Gosh, Beth, what happened to you?” Maggie asked her back in camp, after Beth’d hauled the buckets all two miles back.

Beth felt at her hair. Oh, Christ. It was still tousled. She’d thrown her shirt on the wrong way and if someone came too close, they could feel that her skin was still hot to the touch.

“I got caught in the water,” Beth lied. The faintest smile came to her lips. Oh, it felt so good being bad. “The waves were real rough.”

It was routine, after that. Some might’ve even called it a full-blown sex affair. Merle took to smiling at her over the nightly bonfire, beckoning her to a secret spot when nobody was watching. Wouldn’t want your daddy knowin’, huh? Tell me, girl, how’d that blue-nose farmer raise such a dirty little slut? She went with him on his runs. Only, instead of ransacking what little was left on the grocery shelves, she’d take him behind the counter and get on her knees. Beth knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t help it. It was the end of the world, after all. Everyone had their own way of coping. Some people fried their brains on dope and liquor. Others took the easy way out and swallowed a box of pills or a shotgun bullet. Beth? She liked to fuck her way through the apocalypse.

But all the while she was fucking Merle Dixon, on her knees or pushed up against the wall, something was missing. Her thoughts couldn’t help straying to his little brother. Once, while he’d been fucking her on the dining room table with her daddy sound asleep upstairs, she’d even called out Daryl’s name. Merle had stopped bucking into her for a second, breathing hard. Girl, he’d growled out, that bastard couldn’t fuck you half as good as I could. He’d flipped her over and bit her shoulder as he finished.

Try as she might, Beth couldn’t stop thinking about him. Daryl Dixon drove her wild. Whenever they passed each other in the halls, and his eyes locked on hers, she’d break out in goosebumps. And when he stopped, grunted at her if she was okay, she forgot how to speak. She couldn’t do it anymore. She needed him to fuck her.

That night, she put on her bad-girl shorts and stood outside his tent. Everyone was back in the farmhouse, putting the dishes away after dinner. No one around to see.

Daryl came home well past dark. Beth could tell he’d been out working somewhere, fixing up his busted truck or hauling deer carcasses back to camp. He was already red-faced, tired, his shirt collar soaked with sweat. At the sight of her in front of his tent, he slowed down. Lit a cigarette. Walked over and said, “Beth, whatcha doin’ out so late?”

Beth didn’t waste any time talking. She plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, and before he could even reach for it, she was kissing him. Hard. He gasped a little into her mouth, but his hands came to her hips anyway, squeezing her ass through the denim, pulling her in close, kissing her back. Harder.

When Beth pulled back, his eyes were shining with want. She smiled. She liked the effect she had on him.

Putting his cigarette in her mouth, she said, “I was hopin’ for a round two.”

Clearly, he’d been hoping for it too. He took her by the hand and pushed her into his tent with all the force of someone who’d been wanting this too long. She found herself on her back, all the wind knocked out of her. Propping herself on her elbows, she saw him crawling over, straddling her. He leaned in close, ‘til his breath tickled her neck. “Once wasn’t enough for ya?”

She tilted her chin up to him, breathing hard. “Nuh-uh.”

He took his cigarette out her mouth and stubbed it on his jeans. There was barely enough time to hear the denim hiss before his mouth was on hers, kissing her deep enough to taste what she had for dinner. His rough hands stroked her breasts through her old band tee. He pulled back, their lips connected with spit.

“You ain’t wearin’ nothin’ under those clothes, are ya?” he asked.

Smiling, she shook her head.

“Christ.” His fingers were sinking into her shorts now, unzipping the fly. “Where’d you learn to play dirty like that?”

“I ain’t a little girl anymore.” She almost said, just ask your brother.

He had her shorts down around her ankles. For a minute he gazed at her, nearly licking his lips with want. Her thighs were crossed over each other, her blue eyes tilted up at him from the floor. She watched as he sank his head down and kissed her stomach. She didn’t know what he was doing, but she liked it. He kissed her hips, her thighs. His mouth sent flutters through her. There was something sorta innocent about it, like teenagers making love for the first time. Learning the taste of her skin all over again.

Then, all at once, lightning tore through her. She looked down, panting, and saw his face buried between her thighs. He was licking circles against her clit, then sliding his tongue down to her pussy. She felt it sinking in, slowly, and threw her head back in a gasp.

He came up for air, mouth shining with her wet. His hair was damp in his catlike eyes. “Ya like that, don'tcha?”

She couldn’t speak. She let her thighs do all the talking, squeezing them back around his neck. He came back down gladly. This time, he used his hands. She felt two rough fingers probing between her legs, sinking into her. His tongue found its place back on her clit. All at once, he began to stroke, to suck. As his fingers pumped through her, his tongue lapped up her wetness. She was sobbing his name, “Daryl, oh Daryl, that’s good, that’s perfect, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop—“

And he did. The bastard really did. The moment she told him not to stop, he stopped. Coming up from between her legs with a smirk. Fucking smirking.

“Merle ain’t never done that to ya, huh?” he said.

She shook her head. He leaned down, kissing her again, all tongue, and this time she could taste herself in his mouth. She could feel his cock tenting his jeans, the heat of it against her hip. The kiss grew deeper, messier. He couldn’t wait much longer. He pulled back, gasping, “Roll over.”

Beth didn’t hesitate. She rolled over for him until her chest was pressed to the floor, and her ass was pressed to his face. It was so quiet, the sound of his fly unzipping seemed to echo. Beth bit her lip to keep from whining out, begging him to fuck me, fuck me, oh god just fuck me.

She could feel his heat behind her. He spread her thighs apart slowly, much too slowly, bending to kiss her ear. And just when she was about to open her mouth and cry out, she felt him pushing into her. It was like the gates of Heaven being opened. He let out a low groan, nails sinking into her thighs. For a second, he was still. She could feel his cock pulsing inside her, could hear him panting for breath.

“Daryl—“ She was about to say you’re taking too damn long, but before she could get the words out, he was already fucking her.

She gasped out. Her fingers curled tight around the canvas floor, trying to keep steady. There was no use. He was so much bigger than her that, even when he tried to be gentle, her body was pushed forward with every thrust. She felt his fingers tangling her hair, almost lovingly, as his soft grunts broke the silence.

Finding the angle he wanted, he began to thrust faster. The tip of his cock hit exactly the right spot inside of her, and she broke out in shivers, burying her face into the floor and crying out.

Without stopping, Daryl reached over and cupped a hand over her mouth. “Hush,” he rasped, like a teacher scolding a noisy child. “You want everyone in camp to know I’m fuckin’ ya?”

With his hips bucking like that, she almost didn’t mind. She knew it was risky, though. If Maggie found out, she’d never look at her sweet, innocent little sister again. Her daddy would probably run Daryl out of camp with a shotgun. No, it was better to stay quiet. Even when tears came to her eyes, even when she couldn’t help crying out, ‘cause Daryl felt so good inside her, so fuckin’ good. She gritted her teeth ‘til she could taste his skin. Daryl never took his hand off her mouth, too lost in pleasure to care if it hurt.

Beth couldn’t stand it much longer. She was already on the verge from Daryl tongue-fucking her a minute ago. By two strokes, she was coming. Her whole body was on fire. If she didn’t open her mouth to cry, she might just explode. Daryl was quick to quiet her down, sticking two fingers down her throat to choke her cries.

As her climax faded, Beth found her body growing weaker, her breathing harder. When he was sure she’d finished, Daryl quit fucking her. He took his fingers out her mouth, wiping her spit on the collar of her shirt.

“Turn around,” he said, voice thick. “Get on your knees.”

Sinking down to her knees, Beth found that his cock was still hard and aching to be fucked. He didn’t give her time to catch her breath, didn’t even tell her to suck him off. Just grabbed her by the hair and forced her mouth to his cock. She took it well, even when it hit the back of her throat. She liked the burn. Better yet, she liked the view. Daryl, standing tall above her, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut as he sighed out. His bare, sweaty chest, rising with every breath. He bucked one, two times, and suddenly she felt that familiar salt filling her mouth. He shrank back, catching his breath.

“C’mere,” he said, hoarse.

Beth wiped the come off her mouth and crawled over to him. He held her tight to his chest, smelling of cigarette smoke and sex. He didn’t bother to pull his pants back up, and neither did she.

“Let’s go again,” she panted out, hungrily eyeing his bare cock, his shining chest.

“For chrissake, Beth. Wouldja let a man rest?”

“I don’t wanna. Daryl, that was— you were good. The best I ever had.”

He stroked her hair. It was crazy, how that man could fuck her like an animal on the floor one second, then stroke her hair like he loved her the next.

“We shouldn’t,” he said. “You better head on home. Your daddy’s gon’ get worried.”

“Aw, let him worry.”

“Girl, I swear to God,” he groaned out, moving her to straddle his hips, “you’re gon’ be the death o’ me.”