#it just must be interseting and sometimes hard...

[leather-n-laces]

Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye (WIP Bethyl)

Pairing: Bethyl Prompt: Jealously Rating: T for Teen ( Jump to Mature/Explicit in future?) 

Status: WIP Awhile ago I asked for some prompts!

@redrosalie1 sent me a bunch that i’ve been picking away at. One that I keep coming back to in particular was jealousy (nsfw) 

This is an incredibly rough draft that is currently unfinished. Would you all be interseted in a full version? That would probably...most likely maybe include my first ever real dive into smut. Let me know what ya’ll think! 

He shouldn’t fucking be here. The last time he’d seen her she’d been shoving her clothes into a bag and dashing out the door like her ass was on fire. That had been six months ago. Six months ago she’d just up and left him. Six months ago when he’d let her. All because he was an idiot, took a casual comment (which she’d let slip after a few rounds) way too seriously and it had happended. Fight to end all fucking fights.

Her sister had been at the shop, getting her car fixed. He’d overheard her talking to Eugene, mentioning Beth was back in town with Zach and they were going to be preforming at the harvest festival. Zach. Fucking Zach. He knew about him, sure. One of Beth’s music buddies. They wrote songs together, sometimes she played with his band. He’d always been leary when the kid came up.

Daryl’d always trusted Beth. Always. She was good, she was his. She was always telling him that she wasn’t gonna hurt him and she kept saying it until he started believing her. Just that kid. He’d met him once. All happy, good looking, smart, came from decent money. Probably had a future somewhere, a job that didn’t involve slaving away over an engine all hours of the day. It was too easy to see Beth running off with him. That was the type of person she should’ve gotten with. Not some trailer trash redneck. A good boy, good family, with a name that didn’t make people want to spit.

When he’d heard Maggie talk about Beth putting on a show with Zach, all he could see was red. All he could hear was ‘Told ya so, brother’ ringing in his ears.

So sue him. He showed up. Not after having a few beers, needed the type of courage that could only be found in a glass. It would help build up his defenses, help strengthen that ‘I don’t give a fuck’ muscle. PRepare him for what he was gonna see on that fucking stage. She’d left him (because he’d made her) and she’d instantly started spending all her time with fucking Zach?

He wasn’t going to sit through the whole set. A couple songs. He’d listen to her for a few minutes, just long enough to confirm his suspicions, then he’d take off and drink the feelings away. It’s the exact fucking opposite of what happens.

He stays for the whole show. That’s not all he does. He stays and he waits.

---

The two have chemistry, ain’t a soul gonna deny that. Their voices fit, they’ve played together enough that they’ve got something. Something he’s fixing to give her an earful about. He needs to tell her - needs to hear it from her. How he wasn’t good enough, that he was just a pit stop on her way to better and brighter things.

So he waits. Out back by her car. She’s the last person to come out. Daryl’s pretty sure the entire place empties before Beth shows her face. She isn’t expecting him. PRobably isn’t expecting anyone to be skulking in the shadows the way tha the is. Daryl doesn’t bother announcing himself. Just straightens himself up as he hears the heels of her boots hit the pavement.

“You fuckin’ him?” The words just come out. Angrier than they’d sounded in his head. More hurt than they’d sounded in there, too.

“Daryl? What the hell?”

“You heard me girl,” He breathes through gritted teeth. “You fuckin’ pretty boy?”

Beth draws a breath, switching her guitar case to her other hand. She’s thinking, weighing her options. Calm before the storm. They never really fought much, before. He’d get angry and she would talk him down, quiet and sweet as anything. He can see the look in her eyes, she’s mad, hurt even. There’s that tell-tale glimmer. “Who I’m sleeping with isn’t any of your business anymore!” Jesus, she doesn’t even swear at him and he’s flinching because the words are cutting him just as deep as if she’d been cussing him out.

She’s right. Doesn’t change the fact that the idea of her with anyone else makes him sick to his fucking stomach. They were so good together, right until they weren’t. It wasn’t just about the sex, that was great, but they did everything well no matter whether they were in or out of bed.

That should be it. This shouldn’t have happened to start with, he shouldn’t be standing there staring at her the way he is with his fists clenched at his sides. She should be rounding to the drivers side and yanking open the door, or hitting him with her guitar case.

It’s pre-emptive, how he reaches for her. Wraps his hand around her impossibly thin wrist and tugs. She just falls into him - Daryl doesn’t even think that he’d pulled her that hard. Must be those heels she’s wearing, throwing her off balance.

When he looks down at her, she looks mad as all hell. “Dar-”

Beth doesn’t get a chance to finish, he cuts her off. Seals his mouth right over his. Six months without that taste of - what? Peaches or some shit? It feels like he’s a starving man. One arm wraps around her waist, the other slides up her shirt. Fuck. It’s too good.