We're nearly at the end of the prompt list guys! I have a chapter for Perfect Imperfections coming up and then I'm back to regulary updating Tonight I wanna dance for you and A splintered edge. Which one do you gyys want me to upload first?

He doesn't kiss her.

She kisses him.

It's wild and reckless, braver than she actually feels but somehow she does it. With her hand already caught up in his vest from when she fell, there's really not much distance to close between them. His lips are hesitant but soft and supple on hers, moulding to the shape of her mouth perfectly.

Beth whimpers at the wet heat, her heart thrumming and her hand in his vest clenched tight. Daryl's own hand falls to her hip and her face simultaneously, cupping her and cradling her into his body. His skin is so hot, burning her cheek and her thighs, her chest through her wet vest. The shivers and the cold have swiftly gone, leaving nothing but a burning desire in her stomach and between her legs.

How the hell can someone kiss like this? How is it even humanly possible to be so turned on? To feel like he's running a live wire over her skin wherever he touches her? Her stomach won't stop flipping over itself either, a combination of nerves and excitement that are twisting her insides hard.

Beth stretches out, pressing her feet into the floor of the car and spreads her legs. Daryl shuffles around, pulling his own legs from where they're still twisted in the driver's seat, re-arranging them between her own spread thighs. She grunts a little as his weight presses into her belly and then her ribs before he resettles and takes her mouth again, slow and easy like he's exploring her.

She moans softly, lost in the red heat behind her closed eyelids and the drenching of her panties. In the way Daryl's hips jerk and grind almost unconsciously, not quite pressing where she wants him to but teasing along her pussy lips. They almost feel swollen, desperate for a touch or rub.

With that in mind, she cants her hips upwards for him, planting her feet harder and angling her pelvis so that her clit receives a hard rub from Daryl's growing hardness. She cries out into his mouth and does it again, their mouths breaking apart with a wet sound and their foreheads grinding together as their hips do.

Beth glances down for a moment to watch, her nails now embedded into Daryl's biceps where she's gripping him tightly. The air is getting thinner she's sure and it makes her feel a little less embarrassed by the panting sounds she's making. He pulls back to look at her when her head falls back.

Her chest heaves beneath him, her eyes zeroing in on his swollen lips and own wild eyes. "What're we doin'?" She whispers.

Daryl swallows, his thumb massaging her cheek. "Thought you knew."

She shakes her head, her voice trembling when she says, "no idea."

He continues to stare at her and she's worried that he's speechless enough to stop what they're doing and drive back like nothing ever happened. Except he doesn't do that and really she should give Daryl Dixon more credit because she knew he was brave, but he's even more so than she ever thought.

His hand that was cupping her hip unlocks and unfolds so that his fingers dance up her bare skin where her vest top has ridden up. Beth bites down on her lip to trap a whimper and tries not to jerk around, her body locking up in preparation of his tickling. Except he doesn't tickle her like she expects. His fingers keep going, up, up, up.

With each inch, her heart bangs like a drum against her rib cage as if she's running from walkers. It rattles her whole chest and the fabric of her top stretched over it until her body feels like it's vibrating, ramped up by Daryl's hesitant fingertips stroking over her. Finally, he seems to reach his destination because he stops and Beth gasps into the rattling silence.

His hand cups her right breast, his thumb to his pinky finger swallowing the small lump whole. "How you got me feelin' like this?" He whispers.

Beth flushes hot all the way from the crown of her head down until the heat burns out in her knees and drips down to her toes. Jesus, it's so hot hearing him talk like that, but even better is the burning hot cheeks he's sporting. He's so embarrassed by his own desires, so awkward he doesn't even know how to express himself.

She smiles at him, her fingers reaching up to his face and tracing his cheeks, chin, lips and jaw. "'Cause I'm a 'goddamn horny teenager'," she says with a grin.

Daryl's lip tilts to the side and the smile holds on her own lips as she uses her fingers to trace the contours of his face. She's never done anything like this before and it feels intimate, taking the time to study the flesh of the man she's pretty sure she's about to have sex with. Whenever she's been with a guy in the past, it was in semi-darkness.

It was always good, not terribly amazing but enough to make her turned on and over in an hour or less, but it's never been raw. Now here she is with Daryl Dixon and one kiss has pumped her full of so much excitement she's trembling. Even her fingers where they run over the hard edges of his chin are shaking.

When she makes it round to his bottom lip, he kisses her forefinger. Beth bites down on her own bottom lip and presses two fingers to his mouth which he kisses and so on and so forth until he kisses all four fingers. When she's done that she tucks two away and presses two fingers to his lips again, her eyes locked intently with his.

They stare at each other as she pushes against the resistant of his mouth. He looks a little bewildered but his lips part and his tongue remains flat when Beth strokes her fingers there. He groans and the sound massages the skin until she gets a shiver all the way down her spine. He takes the next step, sucking on her fingers and leaving her light headed with the rapid fire want that burns in her cunt.

Jesus.

Now she knows why guys do this so much. She's not even sure why she's doing it or why she decided to, but she isn't regretting it. It's hot, like a foreshadowing promise of what she could do to him or him to her. Beth actually feels a little lightheaded and she has to breathe deep and calm down with her eyes clenched shut.

Daryl's lips part to release her fingers, his mouth brushing across the palm of her hand as he whispers, "y'alrite? Y'wanna stop?"

The most endearing thing about this question is that they haven't really started. They've kissed both on the mouth and currently on the hand. A gentle squeeze to her breast in between that is barely anything on the way any other guy would treat her. Except he's not any other guy because he actually gives a damn.

"Just feel a little light headed. Excitement's gettin' me," she laughs softly as her eyes open.

Daryl's mouth is still pressed to her hand but now his lips skim down to her wrist. Beth shivers violently as he grazes the scar there and the rapid movement his head makes to check her reaction tells her he was nervous about doing it. God, he's just precious. Too precious for this world and no one ever knows it because of how rough-mannered he is and how coarse he speaks.

He's completely judged on his background all the time, sometimes even by the group. The looks Maggie was cutting to him this morning when Beth said her and Daryl would be going on a run alone was enough to tell Beth exactly what her sister was thinking. She hates the fact that he looked down as well, like a kicked puppy because he knew as well as her what Maggie was thinking when she was eyeing him.

He's just so used to being the red neck scum that he doesn't see anything wrong with one of the women he's come to see as family staring at him like a pervert. It's not fair and it frustrates the hell out of her because all she wants to do is show him how amazing he is but she doesn't feel like she can do it all alone.

Though, that's always the problem, isn't it? Beth never thinks she's capable of doing things and especially never believes that she'll do them to a high standard. Except time and again she's proven others wrong. Hell, she's proven herself wrong. She decided to live even when she was scared enough to want to die.

She fought with the others, she stayed up night after night with a screaming baby. Young and completely clueless but she still did it. With Daryl, she ran and killed and hunted just like him. She survived in the hospital, she survived being shot, she survived the highway of hell.

She's done all these things and they've taken there chunks out of her, but no matter how much she's been through the ringer she's come out stronger. She can do this. She can prove to Daryl Dixon that he is amazing, that he is one of the best people left alive today.

"What're you thinkin' 'bout?" Daryl murmurs.

Beth jolts because she got so lost in her own thoughts that her hands went slack and she must have stared at him blankly. "You," she answers with red cheeks.

She knows she does that often: gets lost in her head. He doesn't get annoyed with her though or try to bring her out of it too soon and it's just another reason that he's so damn perfect.

"You an' me," Beth adds.

He raises up on his elbow, his thick fingers skirting over her hairline. "Together?"

She blushes. "Your definition of that is?"

"Not yours since ya gone all red," he jibes.

She laughs and nudges him lightly in the ribs. "I feel a little lost here," she admits.

Daryl dips his chin. "Me too."

"So… you wanna work it out… together?"

He hums as his fingers continue to dance over her forehead and down to the first scar knitted into her flesh. Beth shivers and he hesitates but she lets her eyes slip closed and relaxes into it. He still doesn't move and she thinks she's going to have to verbally let him know that it's okay until he presses his hot forefinger against the puckered bullet hole.

For a horrible, intense moment she's sure she's going to be sick. Not because of Daryl or anything he's doing but because of the blinding awareness that strikes her spine and the very core of her. It's as if he's stripped her of her blood and bones and now sits stroking her nerve endings.

This is the rawest, most intimate thing about her and he's got his fingers laid against it. He doesn't stay long because her accelerated breathing proves how difficult she's finding it and he quietly carries on, stroking along her brow bone and the fine blonde hairs there before stroking down her cheek and finishing at her lip.

With her eyes still closed, she feels him lean in rather than sees him and it makes her mouth tingle to have a sudden sensation of heat without seeing Daryl descend first. Beth parts her lips immediately, lost in the bliss of kissing this man. She nearly jumps out of her skin when he lays his hand back on her breast.

There's no time to truly be frightened by the action though because his lips open wider, pushing hers open too and Beth can taste the cigarette he had before they got caught in the rain. It's not as unpleasant as she thought it would be but before she can even get used to it he pulls away, eyes hooded and pupils blown wide.

She's breathing rapidly yet again from nothing more than a mere kiss and hint of tongue. With confusion, she watches Daryl to see why he stopped and she works it out when his rough thumb presses to her mouth with intent. Keeping their eyes locked together, her heart galloping, she does exactly what he did earlier: suck his fingers.

It's even more erotic than having him do it to her because she's imagining all kinds of things: that her cunt juices are coating his fingers or that she's sucking on his cock. She's pretty sure his thoughts are skirting along the same line as hers too because he licks his lips when she hollows her cheeks and sucks three fingers into her mouth.

It's so intimate staring at him while she does this, the whole world still outside the windows and the sky darkening with the storm clouds, the rain still as heavy on the glass as it was earlier. It's almost too intimate, too much, too raw and she nearly chickens out but she manages to close her eyes instead. Except that kind of makes it all the more overwhelming.

With lack of vision comes stronger smell, taste, touch. It's all Daryl. All her senses are filled with him. He's all around her, pressing into and on her in both a literal and figurative way. With her eyes closed and now all four fingers in her mouth, Beth's breathing accelerates with excitement. As much as she's enjoying this, she wants more.

She wants to taste herself. She wants to lick the cum right from his fingers, his tongue, every nook and cranny in his mouth. Her eyes fly open and she moans softly around his fingers when she finds Daryl's anguished face. His eyes are closed too but they open when she makes a noise, unfocused and drowsy like she's drugged him.

God, if this is exciting them so much what will it feel like to actually feel some pressure where she wants it? What will his fingers feel like in her pussy? His thick, calloused fingers. What about his tongue? On her nipple, her clit, her dripping hole? She makes another noise of distress and shifts desperately in her seat, trying to find some friction or something.

Anything. Please God, anything.

"You wanna…"

He doesn't finish what he has to say, whatever that was because she's frantically nodding and yanking her soaked jeans off which put up a stubborn fight. Daryl helps her, using the limited space they have to tear the fabric down her flesh until her skin is red raw and tender from the fight. She doesn't give a fuck.

Their breathing is so damn loud, her heart racing in her ears and her hands still shaking but it doesn't stop her from spreading her legs over his hips. Daryl's hands shake when he reaches forward to her hip, his fingers curling around it and his thumb pressing into her hip bone so she jerks beneath him.

"What'd you want? Tell me girl, I dunno what the fuck I'm doin'."

It's endearing and so damn erotic at the same time. Beth can barely think of words to string into a sentence so she doesn't speak at all. Instead, she lifts her knees and pulls her panties down. With her legs elevated and squeezed together, she can't see what Daryl sees but his breath catches hard so she can only hope it's good.

"All the way," he growls, his hand clenching into a fist on his thigh. "Take 'em all the way."

God, calm down, calm down, calm down, she chants to herself. Now is not the time to be having a goddamn heart attack. She was trembling before but she now she's practically having a seizure, her hands shaking so bad Daryl gives up waiting for her and grips her panties himself, tugging with such aggression they tear around her thighs.

Beth gasps, her cheeks and thighs hot. From the sting and the flush of wetness to her cunt. She feels cross-eyed, her jaw hanging over in surprise at Daryl's aggressive, almost dominating behaviour. He wasn't like this earlier when he was shaking and hesitant, sweating bullets.

Not only minutes ago but pretty much on a regular basis, he's so damn shy and sweet and thoughtful. Broken sometimes and now she's flashing her bare pussy and it's like she doesn't recognise the man before her. Hell, she's not complaining. Not ever, but she wonders what the reason is.

It can't simply be that he's attracted to her. Can it? There's no more time for these kind of questions though because Daryl's knuckles are nosing between her pussy lips and her cunt is pulsing and her stomach flipping, her mouth parting in eagerness to scream…

"Shit!"

Straight to the chase, his thick fingers push and push until he's buried in her cunt, stretching her walls and hips so fast her head falls back and her eyes roll into her skull, legs falling apart with no dignity. Daryl makes a noise in his throat, something hoarse and thirsty that makes her pussy walls suck at his fingers in a desperate bid to keep him where he belongs.

His fingers curl at the same time as he shuffles closer, having previously pulled away further into the dashboard to allow her spread legs. As he crowds into her body, giving off a blast of heat, Beth reaches for him, spreading her thighs wider around his hips and groaning throatily as his fingers bury deeper in her pussy, the weight of his hips pressing into his wrist and grinding down on her clit.

Words. She needs to say words. They still exist but she can't fucking string them together. She only needs a couple anyway.

"I'm gonna cum," she says it breathlessly, distantly like she's in another world which frankly, she is.

"Damn girl, wha's it bin? Less than a couple minutes?"

Beth whimpers, straining. "Been months since I cum Daryl. Please, move. Please."

She tries to bounce her hips but he's so effortlessly pinned her with his weight and now she's simply impaled on his fingers, both her hips and her pussy aching, an orgasm raging in her belly without any outlet. It makes her restless, hot and bothered, irritated and she becomes rough with desperation.

Daryl pants over her and curls his fingers so tight against her g-spot she may pass out for a second or two. With her spine weakened into goo, she's completely pliant and he's able to pull out of her clutching pussy despite her embarrassing cry of disappointment.

"You wanna get rough? You ain't seen rough."

Breath hitching in her chest, her eyes are reverted to his fingers stripping his belt from its loops and jeans opening in the front. Her throat closes in a mixture of horror and arousal when she sees his cock. How is it so big? How is this going to work? In a car for Christ sake!

Her mouth parts to voice her concerns but Daryl's excited panting and sudden hand movements distract her all over again. How does he keep doing that? In less than a second he's got both her wrists captured in one hand and simultaneously, he slams her trapped hands into the headrest and slams his cock into her cunt.

It hits her.

The storm outside shatters the glass and tears the bonnet, shreds the car doors and penetrates her with a power she can not possibly fathom. Her bones tense up, her blood flows thick and heavy, her nerve endings pulled tight. Her cunt is like a song, screaming its pleasure and releasing it into the world, pouring its lyrics in the form of cum all over Daryl's dick.

It's not just her pussy that's like a song, it's everything. It's her screams, it's Daryl's grunts, it's the slap of his hips against her, it's the skin of her ass on the leather seat, the thud of Daryl's foot against the floor as he uses the power of his leg to fuck her. It's all around her, filling her, undoing her and remaking her.

There's a beat everywhere. In the creases of her elbows and her throat, where her pulse races, in her clit and her cunt where the orgasm fights to extend and unravel some more. There's a beat in her head, in her scars. She can feel each one like they were hand sewn into her flesh, knitted tight with practice and patience.

They itch and pulse and feel like they're tearing, bleeding with the song her body has become, singing and when she's coming down, she realises something. Realises that the scars are not ugly, are not something to be ashamed of. They're battle scars, a fight she won.

They're reminders of that fucking hospital, of that battle in her soul to keep going just like the scar on her wrist. The funniest thing is, she had never scarred her body in her life. In all the years she had lived on a farm, the worse she had done was sprain an ankle. The first time her body was marked permanently was less than a few days after she met Daryl.

The second time she was scarred was the same day she saw his face after they were separated and there was such hope in her chest. Such love for him that he came, that he saved her. Every other face, Rick's too, didn't mean anything, didn't even register. She was looking at him, all she saw was him.

The first face she saw when she opened her eyes, the first person to lay their fingers across the scar on her head, the one that said she made it. She was drowsy and confused and terrified but she felt it in his hands, saw it in his eyes. It didn't matter. Not the scar on her wrist, not the ones on her face.

They didn't matter and they never would because Daryl Dixon accepts her for who she is, for the song that comes out of her mouth, for the lyrics she thinks of, for the tunes she hums, for the jokes she laughs at. This realisation is an awakening, a sudden flash of insight that burns through her as hot as her orgasm.

It makes her desperate. Fired up. Not like she expected: to cum and be wiped out by it after so long without an orgasm. Instead, it adds fuel to the scorching fire in her cunt. Her fingernails dig into Daryl's forearms, her head craning back to watch his cock slamming into her, her thighs spread over his.

Sweat is gliding down his forehead, curving over his cheeks and they're both panting but no one is exhausted, no one wants to stop. She hasn't felt this connected to a person is so long, if ever and God, she just feels so good. She doesn't want it to end, she doesn't even want to cum again, doesn't care if she does or she doesn't because this is amazing.

"Faster," she begs, turning her face so she can bite at his wrist and forearm.

Daryl groans long and low, his free hand falling to her thigh and pressing hard into the muscle to keep his momentum, his foot crammed so hard against the floor the car's squeaking like it's going to come apart. Beth feels delirious but that's no surprise, she's felt that way from the second she kissed him, the second she crossed a line.

"Shit girl… knew you... was gonna be… tight," he punctuates the last word on a hard thrust that makes her sob. "Jus' not… like this!"

Her head rolls against the headrest, her wrists still trapped by Daryl's large hand. She wishes they had more room so he could pound her how he so clearly wants to, a jerk in his hips that tells her he's either holding back or the space doesn't allow for the thrusts he wants to give her. Hot spikes roll down her spine at the thought.

"Please Daryl, fuck me, c'mon, please," she begs.

"The fuck you think I'm doin'?" He gasps, squeezing both her wrists and her thigh tight enough that it nearly hurts.

"Harder," she grits out. "So fuckin' hard. Show me. Show me how much you unh want me!"

He falters and she's so terrified she's offended him that her insides freeze over. "Daryl I didn't m-"

"You asked for it," he cuts her off.

Beth's left clueless when he pulls out, her walls clutching and wetness gliding down the crack of her ass, chest heaving from the muggy air. Even the windows have fogged up, which makes her smile despite her confusion over Daryl's reaction. Is he mad at her? Is he going to stop? Teach her a lesson?

This is not what he does though. Instead, he pushes against her ass so her back slides all the way up the seat, right back until he's managed to get her upper body in the back seat and her ass on the headrest of the passenger one. Jesus, it's hard work fucking in a car, no matter how fun it is.

"Yeah, tha's it," he murmurs, mostly to himself because he's gripping his cock again.

She licks her lips as she watches him stroke himself, her hand reaching forward almost unconsciously to join him. He chokes and then whines, his dick pushing into her hand. He's heavy and warm, pre-cum beading at the tip as she squeezes, his shaft slathered in her cum and juices.

It practically makes her light headed, seeing the mark she's made on him. Her hand glides like silk over his cock, from the tip to the base and no matter how erotic the act alone is, it's even more so when Daryl's head bows forward between his shoulders and he fucks her clenched fist, taking the pleasure he deserves.

Beth licks her lips again, her mouth so damn dry. She parts them to say something, she's not sure what, but it's the same moment that he looks up. His eyes latch straight to her mouth and his yawning pupils tell her exactly what it is he's going to do to her.

A pleased smile lights her mouth. "C'mon, show me what you got."

"Fuckin' minx," he growls.

She squeals when he grips her hips and rags her around, arranging her so that her ass is elevated onto the headrest and her back is deep set into the backseat. She has heard sex is meant to be amazing when your hips are higher than you're head but she's never had chance to find out.

Not for much longer is she clueless and wondering because she gets the real deal. Daryl grips her by the ankles and hauls them over his shoulders, pushing her legs into her chest as he bares his weight down on her, his face close and his hand hot against her pussy as he grips his dick and guides it into her.

Beth's speechless, mouth gaping open as dramatically as her chest is heaving against her bent knees. She's completely crushed underneath him, pinned hard and almost wishing it was harder, a desperate craving in her stomach to be consumed by this fucking man. He's unbelievable sexy looming over her and she has no damn idea how she's so lucky.

His arms are thick and corded where he reaches over her head to grip the lining of the back seat, his knees jammed into bars between the headrest. His top is loose and worn, hanging away from his body so that she can see straight down it, her eyes riveted by both his yawning pupils and his rippling stomach as he pushes back into her.

She gasps breathlessly, fighting to catch air as he leans into her body, his cock a bearing weight in her pussy driving deep and deeper still. It's magical, the feeling and completely maddening all in the same moment. The heaviness of him and yet the silky soft feeling of his flesh rubbing against her inner thighs and then her inner walls.

The desperate need for oxygen paired with the inexplicable want to be consumed. She's completely lost in him, in herself, in what they're doing but there's no time to be overwhelmed because when he told her he would show her rough, he wasn't fucking around. His new leverage and angle allows him to fuck her.

Daryl Dixon just reinvented the word because there is nothing, not a word, not a movement, not an expression to accurately depict the speed and depth that he takes her. His hips piston, his arms tense and bend as if he's doing push-ups into her pussy, his knuckles turn white over her head where he's squeezing the armchair.

But God if the whole vision of him wasn't enough to turn her into a liquified damn mess then the sounds he's making really takes the cake. She finds herself forcing her own moans silent, capturing them between gritted teeth and allowing only a handful of gasps to burst out of her mouth just so she can listen.

It's pure sin.

There should be something to outlaw the sounds that he makes when he's fucking a woman because it's seriously not fair to her cunt. It ripples and sucks with greedy intent, high off of the sounds raising goosebumps on her arms. Christ. He's pure sex. Her nails clench in his hips where she's found her hands, piercing his flesh violently.

"No, unh, fair!" She complains through pants.

"What?" He gasps back distractedly, his cock rotating so it massages every inch inside her.

Her pussy clamps hard. Instead of letting her head fall back with the intensity of her sudden orgasm, she instead curls forward, as if she's trying to fight off the power because if it takes her, she'll be left in ruins. She thinks she screams but honestly everything is white noise and all she can see is Daryl's slack face and jerking hand, aggressively beating at his cock.

God knows when he pulled out of her, so lost in her own body she can't remember her goddamn name but no way will she ever forget his.

"Daryl. Daryl, fuck, cum, now. Cum in my mouth, on me, in me. I don't care, please Daryl, please, jus' cum," she begs.

She's never sounded so pathetic but fuck her pride if it makes Daryl Dixon scramble up into the backseat and choke her with his dick, his cum flooding hot and heavy and thick into her mouth, down her throat until she chokes, her nails biting into his hips. When he pulls out she gasps wildly, a thick runner of spit still connected to her bottom lip and the head of his cock.

She licks at it until it disconnects, leaning forward to lick off the small line of cum dribbling down his shaft. Daryl collapses to the side, sprawling in the back seat and she giggles albeit shakily as she lies down on his chest and allows him to tuck her into his side.

"We mus' look like a couple of idiots. You ain't got no panties on an' my fuckin' pants are 'round my damn ankles," he grunts.

Beth laughs and tilts her head to him. "You think we been gone long?"

"Yeah, but I's gonna blame it on the storm, say we hold up or somethin'."

She nods, her eyes fluttering closed. "Wanna lock the doors an' have a nap?"

"You didn't lock the doors?" He asks with more conscious effort than she feels like she can give to the conversation.

She mumbles sleepily. "No chance. You distracted me with your devil dick."

Daryl snorts and leans upwards to hit the two manual locks. "Ain't no walkers 'round. Ya lucky, could'a been bit in the ass."

It's her turn to snort at the mental image though the following repercussions make her stomach tighten with dread. She really should have locked the doors.

"Ain't no one bitin' that ass but me," she answers.

He squeezes her tight. "Damn straight."