Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: I wrote this in a fit of frustration, tired of seeing all the drama-lama on tumblr over Caryl and Bethyl. So, I did the only logical thing, I paired these two scrumptious ladies together. Let me introduce you to the good ship Bethol.
Warnings: *Contains: fem-slash, a slight hint of dub-con, spoilers for the current season up to 4x14 "The Grove", adult language, adult content, outdoor sex.
Her back hit the maple with a scraping thud – just painful enough that she arched – over-stimulated. Her fledgling curiosity wavered, if only for a moment, as Carol surged forward. There was a flash of silver hair in the moonlight before the older woman was on her.
Before she could move, before she could even open her mouth, Carol had pinned her arms above her head, thin wrists crossed – like in mockery of some long forgotten prayer - as the woman's breasts brushed against her skin.
"First time?" Carol murmured, her breath warm against the shell of her ear as she licked a trail down her collarbone, smirking into her skin as the words permeated slowly.
"N-no!" she stuttered, trying to summon the will to at least sound indignant as vague memories of Jimmy and Zach rose in the back of her mind, thin and wispy like the brittle pages of her diary, ripplin' in the soft breeze.
The predatory smile was back against her skin as Carol's fingers tangled in her belt loops, tugging pointedly. "That's not what I meant."
She bit her lip, uncertain, despite the flush that stole down her skin. She had no idea how any of this had even started. How they'd gotten to this point. How they'd gone from Carol breaking her out of that- place, to Terminus, to losing everyone. They'd been on the run since then; since the blood that'd slicked between her fingers; since Carol had dragged her away from her sister's body, shouting something, something about walkers and sun that was quickly setting.
She didn't know how things had changed between them since Terminus had turned out to be a trap. She didn't know how they'd gone from losing everyone, one by one, to sleeping side by side, spooned up close for warmth, to Carol suddenly turning on her halfway through dinner, breaking through that final wall with all the nonchalance of someone commenting on the weather.
"One word and this stops here," Carol reminded, all hot breaths and sweat darkening the feathers of her short hair as she moved above her, a slow, rolling grind that brought their hips together with wave after wave of delicious friction.
She squeezed her eyes shut as one of Carol's hands came up, cupping her face almost gently before venturing upwards, reaching around her to tug out her hair elastic. She caught a breath as blonde hair curtained around her – a fuzzy sheath of corn-silk yellow as Carol buried her hands in the untidy mess and tugged.
"There," Carol hummed, nails scritch-scritching across her scalp in a way that had her shivering despite the dry midnight heat. "So much better, don't you think?"
She nodded, looking up willingly this time as Carol tipped her chin up. The older woman's eyes were veiled, and try as she might, she couldn't read them. She didn't know what Carol was thinking – what she wanted – what she didn't – she didn't know if she'd read her wrong or if-
The soft press of lips crushing, petal soft, against hers made her sigh, unable to stop the relieved groan that rose up as a slick tongue ran across the seam of her lips. She gasped, hiccupping into the kiss when Carol's fingers slipped between the waist of her jeans, raking through the dirty-blonde hair that crowned her sex before dipping up again.
The older woman undid the button of her jeans deftly, so sure, so practiced she had her mouth open to ask, to wonder aloud if there had been others, before she was silenced with a bruising kiss.
Her hand clenched around the woman's wrist when talented fingers slipped between her folds. The intrusion was almost too much after so long without even so much as her own hand for company. She breathed in; sharp and high through her nose as an adventurous thumb ghosted across her clit, and yeah - okay, she could definitely get behind this.
She was wet almost embarrassingly fast, slicking Carol's fingers up to the last knuckle as one finger became two and the woman finally started moving. She muffled an embarrassing keen into the woman's shoulder, breathing in the smell of her skin, the scent of crushed undergrowth, stale sweat and tears. A second later, Carol's other hand tugged her shirt free from her pants, jerking her bra aside to cup her, teasing an already stiff nipple into a painful peak.
Both their hips were moving now, desperate as the rhythm started to fall apart. Warmth puddled in her belly as the finger inside her moved in and out, squelching and slick as Carol whispered a stream of nonsense into the air above her head.
"Give it up…" Carol crooned. "Com'on sweetie, let it go," as her finger crooked, just so and-
Her pleasured cry echoed through the hush – mirrored a few seconds later by the squeal of something small and graceless meeting its end in the long grass, just beyond the camp fire.
Carol's laughter sounded out like the wing beats of a large predator above her as she slid the down the trunk of the maple – jerking with the aftershocks of her release as the woman pressed a kiss into her hair and moved away.
"I'll take first watch."
It was the last word either of them said to the other until sunrise.
A/N #1: Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! – I wrote this in like, less than an hour. And this is my first real fem-slash, so… Thank you for following me in the madness. Suck it ship wars.
Reference #1: Title refers to the following: The term "Dark Horse" refers to: "a candidate or competitor about whom little is known but who unexpectedly wins or succeeds."