A/N: Hey guys I'm back (temporarily of course). Basically I finished one of my many assignments and decided as a reward to myself for the dedication, I'd write up a quick smutty one-shot of our favourite TWD couple. This is set in the prison, it's assumed that Bethyl have been banging each other silly prior to this fic (she ain't a virgin no more!) and is just a bit of fun.

I don't own the characters, nor the cover image, just the plot and the sexy fun times!

"Fuck!" Daryl retrieved his bolt from the softened skull of the walker he had just killed, pulling the tip back through the fence just before the lifeless corpse sank to the ground, rotted gray matter spilling out of its skull. Blood dripped from the end of his bolt and he grimaced as he wiped it hastily against his shirt before reloading it into the crossbow and taking aim once more.

"Daryl! Over here!" Sasha's voice called out from a few yard down the fence line. He glanced over to find a larger horde of walkers descending on a weakened portion of fence, the combined weight of the dozens of corpses buckling the steel reinforcement poles. Sasha had propped a tree trunk against the fence but was struggling to keep the fence upright.

"Rick, need your help!" Daryl yelled in Rick's general direction before running over to Sasha and leaning his weight against the fence until she was able to brace the tree trunk firmly against the reinforcement pole.

"I hate walkers," she murmured darkly as she plunged the end of a fire poker into the eye socket of a particularly rotted body that had snaked its greying arm between the chain links and was reaching for her aggressively.

"Can't say I disagree," Daryl smiled, a rare occurence nowadays.

"Sasha, your shift is over in a minute. Can you find Tyreese and ask him to take your place?" Rick ordered.

"No, no, it's fine. Tyreese is getting ready for a run. I can stay for another few hours," she shrugged, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

"You need me to stay for longer?" Daryl asked, not really caring what the answer would be. It's not like he had a laundry list of things to do in here. At least killing walkers was kind of satisfying in a macabre way.

"I'd appreciate it. These damn bastards aren't letting up. For every one we kill, three more take its place," Rick surveyed the bodies piling up against the fence before them, the dispatched walkers slowly being trampled into the soft ground by the active ones who groaned in that low and guttural way.

"Not a problem," he lifted his crossbow once more, taking aim and sending a bolt right between the eyes of a female walker, a cool spurt of blood erupting from her skull and landing on the front of his shirt.

"Dammit!" he groaned as he heard Sasha's laugh.

"Oh no, Dixon. Was that your last clean shirt?" she smirked.

"Believe it or not, this is still the cleanest shirt I have," he replied quickly, glancing down at the walker blood now coating his front.

"That doesn't even surprise me," she grinned before returning her attention to the horde of walkers.

Daryl finally shouldered his crossbow as the sun began to set, as Maggie and Glenn approached the fence line to take over their shift.

"They really sent the two of you out here together?" Daryl grinned at them as they approached.

"Oh please, you wish you had my cat-like reflexes!" Glenn whipped out his knife and twirled it dramatically through the air, causing Maggie to roll her eyes.

"I sure do. Just make sure you keep your eyes on the fences and off each other," he warned, glaring at them sternly before setting off towards the prison, his crossbow feeling heavier than usual after the strenuous day.

He entered his cell block, stalking down the long passage of cells which they had made their temporary homes in. His blood was boiling, his mind racing yet weary after a day standing in the sun. His skin felt sticky with sweat, the blood on his shirt had soaked through to his skin and itched, and he knew that he needed something sweet to make him forget all about his worries. He passed his cell, intent only on reaching the showers at the end of the hall when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

It was singing.

Beth's voice.

And that, that's a relief
We'll drink up our grief
And pine for summer

He took two steps back until he was standing outside of her cell. The sheet was pulled halfway across the doorway, but her voice was loud and clear and soothing to his ears.

And we'll buy beer to shotgun
And we'll lay in the lawn
And we'll be good

He could see her through the small space between the curtain. Her back was to him and she was rocking back and forth slowly, cooing in between the lines of her song.

She turned slightly and he could see that she was holding Judith in her arms. The little girl was curled peacefully into Beth's warm embrace, her eyes drowsy with sleep.

His eyes roamed back upwards to Beth's face. He's missed her. It had been only days since he'd last had her, but he wanted her fiercely all the same. The stress and the heat and the strain of the day had only exaggerated his desire for her.

When he looked up at her once more, he found her staring back at him. Her singing stopped immediately, her eyes darkening considerably at the sight of him standing there in the doorway of her cell. Spying on her.

He raised one eyebrow, an unspoken question which she replied to with a quick nod, her breath quickening. She turned towards Judith's cot momentarily to lay the girl down and when she straightened up, he was gone.

That was okay. She knew exactly where he was headed.

She slipped into the hall quietly and padded past the cells towards the shower stalls.

"Daryl," she whispered into the darkness. Silence. She walked past the stalls, her eyes flickering into each one. Nobody there.

She sighed audibly before pulling off her clothes and stepping into the furtherest stall, turning on the water and waiting for it to heat up. The water pressure was shit in the prison, but the pleasure of being able to shower was well worth it.

As soon as the water had reached the maximum temperature of lukewarm, she stepped forward, moaning softly as the water cascaded over her face, her hair, her back. She could feel the sweat, the stress, the worries, cascading in rivulets down her back and into the drain.

She reached one hand out blindly for some shampoo and instead grabbed hold of something else.

She squealed as she felt his hand close over her mouth, a hard and familiar body pressing against her wet and naked back.

"Did you miss me?" a voice, gravelly and rough in her ear. She managed to expel a muffled moan into his hand, her body arching back against his.

"Shh, princess. Don't want anyone to come running in here, do you?" he groaned, allowing his hips to grind against her naked backside just hard enough to create some delicious friction. Another sound escaped her, deemed unintelligible by the pressure of his hand against her mouth.

"I want to hear your voice, baby, but I don't know if you're capable of being quiet enough," his hand slackened just enough for her to respond.

"I thought you liked it when I'm loud," she breathed, sending a shock of pleasure straight to his groin.

Truth be told, Daryl revelled in the way that Beth couldn't hold it in, couldn't dampen her enthusiasm for him. Each and every one of their sordid trysts ended up being a race to the end, to finish up before someone came running at Beth's muffled screams and cries as she thrashed around him.

But this time was different. The shower rooms concrete walls made every sound amplified, and the door was unlockable, leaving them more exposed than ever before.

"You know I love it, but I really don't feel like being shot by your daddy tonight, baby," he licked a trail up the side of her neck, her head falling backwards against his chest at the sensation.

"I've dreamt about this happening," she whispered, her hands reaching above her head to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to the sensitive skin of her neck.

"Dreamt of what?" he smirked into her flesh, loving the sensation of her pulse hammering away under his mouth.

"You and me... in the shower. You kissing me and, oh, touching me," she gasped as one hand slid over her breast, kneading it almost painfully hard.

"I'm sure that's not all you dream about," he encouraged, his other hand trailing south until it reached the apex of her thighs and felt the wet heat radiating from her centre.

"Fucking me... oh my god... I dream that you're fucking me," she breathed, trying desperately to grind her backside onto his length which she felt pressed tightly against her lower back.

A low growl escaped his throat at her words.

"Against the wall?" he let one finger slide experimentally between her folds, testing her readiness and finding an endless supply of slickness seeping from her body. She moaned throatily at the sensation, her eyes closing as his moistened fingers glided effortlessly around her clitoris in those tiny circular motions that he knew she enjoyed.

"Yes, yes, against the wall, oh my god I love that," she choked out as he moved his hand lower and slid a long finger inside of her warmth, pumping it into her body in a painfully slow rhythm that made her knees shake.

"Beth, you're so fucking wet for me," he groaned, internally praying that he would be able to last. He was already feeling close just from the way she grinded back against him, and the sensation of the slip and glide between her legs as he curled his finger upwards and grazed against that tiny rough patch inside of her which made her bite down on her bottom lip to stifle the scream.

"Don't make a fucking sound," he breathed, his free hand snaking around her waist, pulling her torso tight against his as he continued to torture her with his fingers, curling them relentlessly against her sweet spot as she started to writhe against him.

"Ssh, princess. Am I making you feel good?" he whispered into her ear, loving the way her breath was coming in short pants as she undulated her hips against his hand.

"You feel so tight, baby. I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my dick," he grunted, his own dirty talk starting to get the best of his self-control.

She cried out, the sound muffled by her top teeth gnawing on that juicy bottom lip of hers. Before long, he felt her breathing hitch in that way it always did before she came.

"That's right, baby. I want to feel you come all over my hand," he moved his free hand down just enough to pinch her left nipple gently as she came undone around his finger, her inner walls contracting as she struggled to contain the name she wanted to scream.

He gave her a moment to recover, the lukewarm water splashing over their bodies as he grabbed the base of his length firmly in his hand, running the tip over her slick folds teasingly, never allowing himself to completely sink into the welcoming heat. She was whining, her backside pushed towards him in invitation as she gasped at the sensation of his silky smooth length gliding over her oversensitive clitoris.

"Ahh! Daryl please... please, I want you inside me," she was pleading, her hand trying desperately to find him and guide him inside of her.

"No need to beg, baby," he slid into that slippery heat without hesitation, withholding a groan as he bottomed out inside of her. Her body contracted gently around him as she recovered from her last orgasm, and he took a moment to gather that long blonde hair in his hand, stroking the skin of her back tenderly.

"You ready?" he asked, unsure as to why he felt he needed further permission. Her frantic nodding enthused him as he pulled out before slamming into her hard. Her head jerked backwards at the force, as he grabbed that handful of golden hair to pull her back against him.

He pounded into her, loving the sound of their bodies joining together and coming apart intermingled with the sound of the shower and the soft sighs and moans coming from the girl pressed up against the cold tiles in front of him. His eyes became transfixed on their point of togetherness, unable to look away from the heavenly sight of his length disappearing into her body before reappearing, glistening with her wetness.

He glanced up momentarily and saw that her head was turned so she could see him, and a mischevious grin had settled on her face.

"You like watching, Mr Dixon?" she whispered far too seductively to be legal, her tiny pink tongue slipping out to wet her lips.

"What's not to like?" he groaned, his eyes returning hungrily to the visual feast before him.

"You like watching yourself fuck me? Seeing yourself pounding in and out of my body?" she continued, mostly for her own benefit however it did nothing for his self-control.

His hands tightened their grip on her hips, his mind steeling itself for the home run. That innocent little voice of hers was going to be his undoing.

"Ohh, shit, you feel so good. When you fuck me like this I can't last, it's too much," she panted. Daryl could feel her muscles starting to tighten, he rocked higher into her, feeling himself grazing against that same spot he'd found with his fingers just moments before.

A silent cry escaped her lips, her hand moving behind her to latch onto his shoulder, her fingernails digging painfully into his flesh as she felt herself swiftly approaching that peak.

"D-Don't stop, I'm going to-" Daryl's hand came down over her mouth hard, his hips freezing in position. She tried to squeal in displeasure as she felt the cusp of her impending orgasm seeping away at the lack of friction between their bodies.

Then she too froze as she heard the same thing that Daryl had.

Footsteps.

Footsteps entering the shower room, walking down the row of shower stalls and then silence.

Beth did not breathe. Daryl's face was buried in her neck, his ears pricked for the slightest sound. The only thing they could hear was the flowing water of the shower which they were currently occupying.

There was a clatter as the person dropped something on the floor, and Beth prayed to God that they didn't glance in their direction as they knelt to pick it up, for surely they would see two pairs of legs in a compromising position.

They cleared their throat, the sound was deep and gutteral and by all means a manly sound. Daryl desperately attempted to role call every male living in that prison block off the top of his head which was hard to do when he was buried deep inside a wet and horny young girl. Hershel was out on the grounds, Tyreese was most likely packing up the car for the run, Glenn was at the fences with Maggie, Bob was helping Carol with dinner, and Carl's voice was certainly not that deep. That left one person.

Rick.

Rick, who would run to Hershel the second he caught wind of the lewd behaviour that Beth and Daryl were committing on a fairly regular basis.

Rick, who would see it as his top priority to protect young girls like Beth from the sexual advances of older men like Daryl, who saw Beth as his own daughter, who entrusted her with the care and raising of baby Judith.

Rick, who would probably hand Hershel the loaded gun to shoot Daryl.

Fuck.

Minutes felt like hours as Beth remained pressed against the tile wall of their shower stall, Daryl buried to the hilt inside of her with his hand pressed tightly to her mouth. Rick had not moved from the sinks, and Beth was growing quite impatient. The tiles of the shower were no longer seductively chilly, but icy cold and made her skin feel numb.

Unconsciously she pushed her hips backwards, genuinly trying to find some space between both of them. Instead she felt herself slide up and down his length, an unexpected sigh of pleasure escaping her mouth and disappearing into his hand.

Her head snapped around to find his eyes, his pupils were blown black as he released his grip on her hips momentarily, experimentally thrusting his hips forward and pushing himself deep into her body.

Her mouth fell open in a silent sigh. Part of her was terrified. She couldn't imagine what her daddy would say, what Maggie would say, what Rick would do to Daryl for screwing around with the youngest Greene. But at the same time, she couldn't ignore the sensation of the man buried inside of her, stretching and filling her and rocking against all of the places that made her toes curl.

The look in her eyes was a combination of fear, anticipation, excitement, lust.

"Don't make a sound," he mouthed silently and she nodded her head slightly to indicate that she had understood what he had said.

She pushed her bottom back against him, clenching her teeth to prevent a moan from escaping before he resumed his rhythmic thrusting, careful to leave millimetres between their bodies to prevent that telltale sound of skin slapping on skin.

Her breath ached as she struggled to keep it inside of her lungs, knowing well enough that if she exhaled a moan would surely follow.

Daryl's grazed her shoulder with his teeth, his hips pistoning into her with a surprisingly silent force as she felt her lost orgasm quickly resurfacing and bubbling in the base of her stomach.

She reached for a callused hand desperately, pushing it between her legs and biting hard onto her tongue as he started circling his wet fingers around her clitoris, the rhythm of his thrusts never ceasing. This was what they were good at: racing to the finish line.

Her breath came fast and shallow, her mind filling with stars at the sensation of the hand digging into her flesh, the fingers she was griding against, the man inside of her who was invading her body in the most delicious way, the fact that she couldn't scream bloody murder as with every forceful thrust she came closer and closer to edge.

She craned her neck, needing to look into his eyes to communicate to him the surges of pleasure coursing through her entire body. The expression of lust on his face was all it took to make her fall over the edge when his eyes - once blue but currently darkened with desire, burned intensely into hers.

He winked at her, silent permission for her to finish as he was so damn close to screaming out her name in his own orgasm and completely revealing their compromising position to Rick.

His eyes squeezed shut, his teeth gritted as he felt her come undone around him. The hand he had placed on her hip wound around her torso, keeping her upright and tight against him as her body tightened, her slick inner walls hugging his length so painfully tight it was impossible to resist any longer. Groaning as quietly as he possibly could into the oversensitive flesh of her neck, he finished inside of her spasming body, one hand pressed firmly against her mouth as her legs trembled from small aftershocks.

They stood like that for a while, their bodies pressed together, their lungs gasping for air, wondering if they had alerted Rick to their presence despite all of their efforts to be silent.

They heard the tap running at the sink, and a small cough. Beth breathed a sigh of relief. If he had any inkling as to what was occuring such a short distance away, he would have already found them.

A sudden clanging noise - the makeshift 'dinner bell' they had prepared by weaving a bunch of kitchen pots together to be hit with a metal soup ladel when a meal was ready - suddenly resonated from the mess hall.

They soon heard the click of Rick's boots as he left the shower stalls, and Daryl finally took the opportunity to slide out of her body, immediately disliking the loss of warmth she had been providing him with.

Beth turned around to face him for the first time that night, her lips seeking his without hesitation, their tongues sliding against each other with a familiar ease.

He pulled away, breathless once more, and with a renewed desire for this girl.

"Come on now, princess. We should probably get to dinner before they wonder why we both aren't there," he wrapped her up in his towel, loving how cute she looked post-orgasm with her rosy cheeks and swollen lips.

"I'm starved," she agreed, opening the shower curtain to step into the main dressing area of the shower room. She could see the water dripping from the tap that Rick had been using, and caught a glimpse of something in the mirror.

Oh no.

Beth's small gasp caught Daryl off-guard as he towel-tried his hair as best he could.

"What? What's wrong?" there was a sense of urgency in his voice. There always would be when it came to Beth.

She pointed wordlessly to the bench outside their shower, directly visible from the mirror above the sink that Rick had been standing at.

Daryl's leather vest lay on the bench, the dirty but clearly visible angel wings almost glowing in the dim light of the stalls. Directly next to his vest lay the bra and panties that Beth had so carelessly thrown off before she had entered the shower. The little pink lingerie set that just screamed out the name of its owner. There was no way Rick couldn't have noticed it. He was too observant to miss it.

"So I guess I'm running away tonight," Daryl murmured, briefly contemplating his odds against a world of zombies compared to Hershel with a shotgun.

"Don't say that, I'd get awfully lonely," Beth teased playfully as she pulled her clothes on hurriedly.

"Hmph, is that all you use me for?" he shrugged back into his leather vest, his stomach flipping uncertainly at the thought of what lay before them once they stepped into the mess hall for dinner.

"Not true. Sometimes you say nice things. That's always a pleasant surprise," she squealed as he pinched her bottom in punishment.

"Listen, it's all going to be okay. I won't let you be murdered. At least I'll try," she reassured him gently, retrieving his belt and sliding it through his belt loops in a way that almost made him want to strip off again.

"I hope you're right, for my sake," he sighed as she stood on her tip toes to pull him down for a chaste kiss.

She pulled away when her stomach growled loudly in the silence.

"I can smell the food. I hope it's Carol's stew. I think I could eat the whole pot," she smiled as she ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to detangle the golden mess.

"All I care about is whether there'll be dessert," Daryl winked at her, trying his hardest to not show the anxiety wracking his mind.

"I might have something sweet just for you, but you'll have to wait and see," she turned on her heel and headed for the hallway without him.

Daryl stood there in the damp echoing shower room wondering how many more minutes of peace he would get to experience before Hershel was braining him with the barrel of a rifle.

He took a deep breath, held it, exhaled slowly.

It was now or never.

Please review!