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But I Can’t Stand These Nights Alone

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BETH: Hey, could you do me a favor? I need a ride to Rick’s.

DARYL: why you even askin? i always drive you to rick’s

BETH: Yeah, well, I didn’t wanna ASSUME.

DARYL: never had no problem “assuming” before

BETH: Maybe I’m tryna turn over a new leaf.

DARYL: believe that when i see it

BETH: Rude.

BETH: And you JUST saw it btw.

BETH: Okay, maybe I wanted an excuse to talk to you. Do you believe /that/?

DARYL: talk to me all the time

BETH: Yeah, but you’ve been working a lotta overtime lately.

DARYL: typing…

BETH: And I ain’t /blaming/ you or anything, I know you gotta make a living. I just miss you.

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: don’t get all sappy on me jesus

BETH: You can grump at me all you want but I bet you’re smiling right now.

DARYL: fuck off

BETH: See you in half an hour? :)

DARYL: yeah

BETH: :*



BETH: typing…

BETH: typing…

AMY: you’ve been typing for like five minutes. are u writing a novel over there or what

BETH: I wasn’t typing for five minutes!!

AMY: yeah u were. i was watching the clock

BETH: typing…

AMY: okay but for real, did something happen?

AMY: you and mr. dixon aren’t fighting, are you? 

BETH: Of course we’re not fighting! Why would we be fighting??

AMY: lmao okay chill

AMY: so what’s up?

BETH: typing…

BETH: I was gonna ask you for advice but the more I think about it the more I realize it was a bad idea.

BETH: I probably just should’ve Googled it but I was afraid of what might come up in the search results.

AMY: is this a sex thing?

AMY: it’s a sex thing isn’t it

BETH: Will you believe me if I say no?

AMY: no

AMY: and what do you need to ask /me/ about sex stuff for? you’re the one who’s dating an older guy he’s probably taught you all sorts of stuff

BETH: typing…

BETH: It’s more like we’ve been figuring things out together as we go.

AMY: gross

AMY: so what do u need advice on

AMY: bc i can tell u right now not to try deepthroating a guy without practicing on a banana first or else you WILL throw up

BETH: And you’re calling /me/ gross?? 


BETH: ugh

BETH: You gotta promise not to laugh. Or at least not to make fun of me.

AMY: i can try for the second one

BETH: Good enough.

BETH: typing…

BETH: Lord, okay. Have you ever sexted before?

AMY: typing…

AMY: haven’t u?? at least with zach?

BETH: I mean, I dunno. He tried to a couple times, but I wasn’t super into it, so it never really went anywhere.

AMY: if u weren’t into it then he was prolly bad at it

are u tellin me you’ve never sexted with DARYL before? like, ever?

BETH: Well, he mostly thinks that texting’s stupid anyway, so I didn’t think /he’d/ be into it.

AMY: all guys are INTO it

BETH: Yeah, well, Daryl’s not all guys.

AMY: yeah, i noticed

so why do u wanna try it NOW?

BETH: typing…

BETH: It’s just that he’s been working a lotta overtime lately and I miss him, and even when he’s home, he’s usually too tired to do much. So I thought we could try this instead until his workload lightens up.

AMY: thirsty for that dick, huh?


AMY: yeah okay sorry

i guess you could always just Go For It? that’s what u did before and it worked out well. i mean, REALLY well

BETH: I never shoulda told you about that.

AMY: oh pls even if u hadn’t jimmy woulda squealed eventually. dude’s got the backbone of a pool noodle

AMY: idek u could always try sending him a clam shot and see if he takes the hint

BETH: Oh my GOD, Amy.

AMY: what?? not like he hasn’t seen it before

BETH: This was a terrible idea. Never mind.

AMY: oh jeez don’t be so dramatic

AMY: but seriously, i really do think u should just go for it. it’s daryl, right? he loves you

BETH: Yeah, he does :)

AMY: so i’m sure he’d be into whatever you’re into. and if u miss him, he probably misses u too

BETH: Yeah, you’re right.

BETH: Okay, I think I’m gonna try it.

BETH: Thanks, Amy. Talking to you really helped.

Even if you were kind of a jerk about it at first.

AMY: love you too u horndog



AMY: hey wait can i ask you something

BETH: ?? Yeah?

AMY: is mr. dixon’s phone number saved under “daddy” in ur contacts list?

BETH: typing…

AMY: it is isn’t it

BETH: I’m blocking your number.



BETH: Hi! How was work? :)

DARYL: was alright. just got home a minute ago

lookin for somethin to eat

BETH: Oh! I’m not bothering you, am I?

DARYL: nah

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: talkin to you ain’t a “bother” alright get that stupid shit outta ur head

BETH: I’ll remind you of that the next time you call me a pain in your ass.

DARYL: watch your damn mouth

BETH: What’s my mouth got to do with it? I didn’t /say/ it, I /typed/ it.

DARYL: pain in my ass

BETH: And there it is.


BETH: Aw! You look cute :)

DARYL: what the fuck

DARYL: girl i’m flippin off the damn camera ain’t nothin cute about that shit

BETH: You’re always cute.

Puppies and kittens ain’t got nothin on you.

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: shut the hell up

BETH: I’m making this my lock screen.

DARYL: fuckin better not

BETH: :)

DARYL: wipe that goddamn look off your face

BETH: Why don’t you come over here and wipe it off my face FOR me?

DARYL: girl are you kiddin. your damn sister would fuckin scalp me

BETH: We’ve been over this. She wouldn’t scalp you; she’d just shoot you in the head. Quicker that way.

DARYL: yeah that makes me feel a whole lot fuckin better

BETH: Anyway, Maggie’s not here, she’s at Glenn’s.

DARYL: yeah and what about ur dad

BETH: He went to bed a while ago! And you know him, he could sleep thru the apocalypse. 

DARYL: uh huh

DARYL: still ain’t comin over

BETH: :(

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: don’t make that face jesus

DARYL: i’m already on thin fuckin ice alright if ur dad catches me climbing thru ur window or somethin u won’t be seein me at all

BETH: Yeah, I will. I’m over eighteen, and he can’t stop me from seeing whoever I wanna see.

DARYL: still his house. his rules

BETH: >:(

BETH: You wouldn’t even HAVE to sneak thru my window if your boss would just give you a damn break.

DARYL: told you they’re understaffed

s’posed to be interviewing new folks this week though so it oughta lighten up soon

DARYL: and what i say bout watchin your language?

BETH: typing…

BETH: You wanna do something ’bout it, Daddy?

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: jesus christ

DARYL: girl don’t start shit we can’t finish

BETH: Who says we can’t finish it?

DARYL: already told you i ain’t comin over tonight

BETH: You don’t gotta.

DARYL: hell’s that mean?

BETH: typing…

BETH: It means we can

BETH: you know

DARYL: no i don’t fuckin know

BETH: typing…

BETH: Oh jeez Daryl I know you hate texting but you had to’ve at least heard of

BETH: typing…

BETH: Of SEXTING before.

There I said it are you HAPPY.

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: yeah i heard of it jesus christ

what the hell else you think merle wanted to get a phone for damn


DARYL: yeah no kiddin

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: are you sayin

DARYL: are you sayin you wanna do that shit with me

BETH: Well who the hell ELSE would I wanna do it with??

DARYL: don’t be a smartass

DARYL: why you even wanna do it anyway

BETH: typing…

BETH: Because I miss you. And if you can’t come over tonight, I thought we could try doing this. It’s not as good as being together in person, but I think it’d be fun.

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: don’t think makin a damn fool outta myself’d be much fun

BETH: You wouldn’t make a fool of yourself okay you know I’d never laugh at you.

DARYL: yeah i know

still wouldn’t be no good at it

BETH: Bet you didn’t think you’d be any good at making me come, either, and look how that worked out.

DARYL: jesus christ girl you can’t just say shit like that

BETH: Say it all the time in person. So do you. This ain’t all that different.

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: fuck

DARYL: you really wanna do it that bad huh

BETH: Only if you want to. But if you don’t just tell me, alright? I promise I won’t be upset.

DARYL: just never done it before

BETH: And you don’t have to. I mean it.

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: nah, i wanna

just dunno how

BETH: That’s okay.

But whatever you do, I promise I’ll like it.

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: alright

BETH: Okay.

BETH: Thank you for wanting to try.

BETH: Do you want me to start?

DARYL: don’t gotta thank me

and jesus christ i dunno

DARYL: i guess

BETH: Um, okay.

BETH: I guess this is the part where I ask you what you’re wearing?

DARYL: now ur just bein a smartass again

BETH: No, I’m not!

BETH: I could tell you what /I’m/ wearing, if you want.


DARYL: yeah okay

BETH: Don’t sound very enthusiastic.

DARYL: girl i swear to fuckin god

BETH: Okay, okay. Keep it in your pants, jeez.

DARYL: thought the whole point a this shit was for me to take it /outta/ my pants

BETH: Oh, ha, ha. Who’s the smartass now?

DARYL: typing…

BETH: typing…

BETH: And, well, since you asked so nice and all, I’m wearing Maggie’s old t-shirt. Y’know, the one I wore to North Beach?


DARYL: yeah

DARYL: i remember

BETH: Thought you would. Well, I’m wearing that and a pair of your boxers. The ones you gave me last month.

DARYL: didn’t fuckin give em to you. you stole the damn things

BETH: You want ’em back? :)

DARYL: nah

BETH: Didn’t think so.

DARYL: better mind the fuckin sass

BETH: Or what?

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: or i’ll spank it right outta you that’s fuckin what

BETH: I wish you would.

DARYL: fuck

DARYL: you really want that huh

BETH: Yeah.

BETH: What about you? What do you wanna do?

DARYL: wanna fuck you

miss doin it

think i’ll die a blue balls fore these assholes hire on new folks

BETH: You haven’t been touching yourself?

DARYL: yeah. some. ain’t the same

BETH: It’s not the same for me either.

DARYL: you doin it right now?

BETH: Yeah. A little.

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: tell me how it feels

BETH: Feels good, but not as good as when you do it.

BETH: Wish you were fingering me. I love your fingers. I like how your calluses feel on my

BETH: on my clit.

BETH: And I’m wet. Really wet. Can’t believe I’m like this already

BETH: Guess it’s ’cause I’ve been missing you so much

BETH: It’s gettin all over your shorts

DARYL: fuck

DARYL: lemme see

DARYL: please

BETH: Yeah hold on


DARYL: jesus fuckin christ beth

DARYL: your cunt’s so pretty fuck

DARYL: wish i had my mouth on it right now

BETH: Oh fuck Daryl me too

BETH: I wanna see you too please let me

DARYL: fuck

DARYL: yeah

DARYL: alright

DARYL: hold up a sec


BETH: Oh my god

BETH: You’re almost as wet as me

DARYL: yeah

DARYL: already told you i’m goin fuckin crazy

BETH: Me too

BETH: I’m still touchin myself but I dunno if I can come without you here

DARYL: gonna make you come the next time i see you

DARYL: wanna feel it on my dick

DARYL: gonna eat you out first

DARYL: swear it’s all i think about sometimes jesus

BETH: Did you think about it before?

BETH: Before we started dating, I mean.

DARYL: yeah

DARYL: course i did

BETH: When did you start thinking about it?

DARYL: shit

DARYL: i dunno

DARYL: just did one day and then i couldn’t fuckin stop

DARYL: got so bad i even dreamed about it

DARYL: still do sometimes

DARYL: specially now that i ain’t been able to get my tongue up your pussy for real

BETH: Jesus, Daryl.

You will soon.


BETH: But you gotta fuck me first okay I miss it so bad

DARYL: nah

DARYL: gotta get you wet

DARYL: ain’t just gonna stick it in christ

BETH: I get wet just looking at you so I think I’ll be fine

DARYL: jesus beth

DARYL: you tryin to get me to say to hell with it and come over there after all?

BETH: Is it working?

DARYL: typing…

DARYL: ain’t answering that

BETH: :(

DARYL: told you not to make that fuckin face

DARYL: won’t be makin it once i get my hands on you anyway

DARYL: ain’t gonna let you outta my bed neither

BETH: Think Maggie might have a problem with that.

DARYL: fuck maggie

BETH: Well, I sure hope not.

DARYL: shut the hell up

BETH: Sorry.

DARYL: no you ain’t

DARYL: bet you got that fuckin smirk on your face right now

BETH: Maybe.

DARYL: maybe i won’t eat your pussy after all

maybe i’ll just spank the skin off your ass instead

BETH: I’d be okay with that, too.

BETH: But we both know you don’t mean that first thing.

DARYL: guess i don’t

DARYL: gonna do it more than once too

BETH: Yeah?

DARYL: yeah

DARYL: gonna lick your pussy before i fuck you and then i’m gonna do it again after

gonna eat my come outta you

DARYL: you’re gonna lemme come in you ain’t you beth?

BETH: Oh Jesus

BETH: Yeah

BETH: Yeah Daryl please

DARYL: don’t gotta beg me girl

BETH: Yeah, but you still like it

DARYL: fuck

DARYL: guess i do

BETH: I’ll beg all you want if it means you’ll come over here and fuck me right now

DARYL: beth you know i fuckin can’t

BETH: typing…

BETH: Yeah, I know

BETH: Can I call you at least?

BETH: I wanna hear your voice

BETH: It’s okay my door’s locked and I promise my dad won’t wake up

Beth nearly drops her phone on her face when the screen lights up with Daryl’s name and contact photo, and only saves herself from a badly timed broken nose at the very last second. The photo itself is a slightly blurry selfie that she bullied him into taking with her not long after they started dating, and even though the scowl he’s wearing in it stands in direct contrast to the delighted grin on her pixelated face, anyone looking at it could tell by the set of his arms and shoulders that he’s holding her just as tightly as she’s holding him, if not tighter.

And no, Amy, his name isn’t saved under “Daddy” in her contacts list, mostly because she doesn’t want to mistakenly send a text meant for Daryl to her actual dad, least of all right now because, Jesus, she’d have to pack her bags and leave the damn country.

She fumbles to accept the call and brings the phone to her ear, shaky with excitement and tingling from head to foot. It takes her a couple tries to find her voice, and even then, it comes out sounding so throaty you’d think from listening to her that she’s already been thoroughly fucked.

Yeah. She wishes.

“Um. Hey.”

“Hey,” Daryl echoes, and even with the staticky phone line distorting his voice a little, he sounds good and fucked, too. “This, uh. This alright?”

The question startles a snorting giggle out of her, and she turns her head to muffle it against her pillow. Her dad’s a heavy sleeper, yeah, but she’s not about to take any chances. Not now, when her t-shirt’s rucked up above her breasts and her pulse is throbbing like a bruise in the wet funnel of her empty cunt. Not when Daryl’s waiting for her on the other end of the line.

“Daryl, I’m the one who asked if we could talk on the phone. ’Course it’s alright with me.”

She doesn’t have to see his face to know that he’s embarrassed, because it comes through loud and clear in his voice when he says, “Yeah. Right. Stupid’a me to ask.”

Beth frowns up at her whitewashed bedroom ceiling, tinted lavender by the light filtering through her bedside lamp’s purple shade. She switched it on so she could take a well-lit picture of her cunt and hasn’t bothered to turn it off again.

“No, it wasn’t,” she says. “It was sweet of you to check.”

Daryl grumbles the way he always does whenever she makes a fair point that he doesn’t wanna concede, and her frown flips into a fond smile. Lord, does she love this man.

“Is it alright with you?” she asks, because she loves him, and because she knows that he’s kind of a pushover for her. He’s told her over and over again that he’s never done anything with her that he didn’t already wanna do anyway, but she’s too aware of his single-minded fixation with pleasing her at the expense of literally everything else to not want to do some checking of her own. Just in case.

If she’s crossed some kinda boundary, she wants him to tell her so she can backpedal and apologize.

But when Daryl says, “Yeah,” she believes him, because he’s a shit liar—might be even worse at it than she is—and she’d hear it in his voice if he wasn’t telling her the truth.

She doesn’t hear a lie in his voice. Doesn’t even hear all that much in the way of embarrassment anymore, either. Sure, the bashfulness is still there, because he wouldn’t be Daryl if he could throw it off that easily, but it’s being quickly outpaced by frustrated arousal.

Arousal, and the mounting eagerness to do something about it.

So it doesn’t surprise her at all when he’s the one to clear his throat and ask, “You, uh. You still touchin’ yourself?”

She is, if only idly, too focused on making sure that Daryl’s comfortable with what they’re doing to finger herself with any real intent. But the hand that was lying loose and relaxed between her spread legs flexes when he asks that question, and she circles her two longest fingers over her clit until it’s tingling like a current, makes a breathy little noise that she can hear echoing down the line.

Daryl hears it too, if the noise he makes in turn is any indication. Beth can feel that noise in her swelling clit, in the aching points of her breasts, and it’s not as good as his hands on her, no, but she’s so starved for him right now that it might as well be.  

“Yeah,” she says, like he didn’t already have his answer. “Yeah, I am. What about you?”

Mmm-huh.” And he is; she can hear it. She can hear the faint, fleshy smack of his hand jacking up and down his dick, almost but not quite like the sound of him fucking her. “Jesus, Beth, tell me you’re fuckin’ close.”

Beth hums, dips her fingers into her pussy and drags them back out to wet her clit, hikes up her legs so her knees are pointed at the purple shadows on the ceiling. “Yeah, I am. But I need you to—I need you to talk me through it, Daddy. Can’t get there without you.”

“Jesus Christ. What d’you—fuck.” He cuts himself off with a muted whine, and Beth pretends that he made that noise because of something she did and not just ’cause of something he’s imagining, that he sounds like that because she’s there with him, because she sat on his dick and ran her tongue across the line where his stubble gives way to smooth salty skin. “What d’you want me to say?”

Beth almost tells him that it doesn’t matter, that anything’ll do so long as he’s the one who’s saying it to her. And that is true—Daryl could probably get her off to the phonebook if he put his mind to it, although he’d probably snort and call her a smartass if she said as much—but she also knows that it’ll help them both along if she gives him something specific to work with.  

“Want you to tell me what you wanna do to me, Daddy.” She pushes her fingers deep into her pussy with a squelch that Daryl can probably hear and makes a noise that’s half moan and half laughter when she feels her slick pooling around her knuckles and dribbling down the back of her hand. Jesus, the things he does to her. “Want you to tell me what you’d be doin’ if you were here with me.”

“I already—” He grunts the way he does when he’s fucking her, guttural and rhythmic, and Beth’s legs spasm the way they do when he really is, like he’s here in her bed with her and pounding her steadily into the mattress. “I already fuckin’ did, girl, Christ, ain’t you been payin’ attention?”

“Nah-ah, that’s—” God, but she can’t keep her own train of thought on its tracks when she’s touching herself like this, so she drags her hand away from her cunt and fists it against her tensed abdomen, thighs open and trembling and prickling with pins and needles. “That ain’t the same, Daddy. I wanna hear you say it, please.”

“Spoiled goddamn brat.” It’s an admonishment, but there’s no mistaking how good it makes him feel to hear her say please. “Always fuckin’ somethin’ with you, ain’t it?”

Beth has to touch herself when he calls her a brat, so she does, rolling onto her side and folding her knees against her breasts, hand wedged between her thighs and fingers kneading her clit.

“I ain’t—I ain’t bein’ a brat, Daddy.” Except it’s not really a protest, because she loves being called a brat almost as much as she loves being his good girl. “I said please; I’m bein’ good.”

“The hell you are,” he says, and even the hard, awkward press of the phone against her cheek can’t completely convince her that he isn’t really here, after all, panting in her ear while he spoons his big broad body up behind hers and replaces her fingers with his own.  “Always actin’ the fuck out on purpose ’cause you like it when I tell you off, ain’t that right? G’on, say it.”

Hearing him talk like that stokes her higher, but it also punches a hole in her fantasy, because if he really were in here her bed, this is the part where he’d tap her on the ass for taking too long to answer him. If her hands weren’t busy, she’d smack herself on the ass to simulate it, but no way in hell is she putting her phone on speaker.

“You hearin’ me, girl?” Yeah, this is definitely the part where he smacks her on the ass, ruts his dick between her legs and twists her nipples between his fingers. “You like it when I tell you off or not?”

The hand holding onto her phone has started to cramp, and drying sweat has the screen sticking to her cheek, but not even those two points of discomfort can yank her out of the dark, humid place she’s gone to in her head, the place where Daryl is. “Oh, God, Daryl, y’know I do.”

“Good girl,” he says, so hot and so close, tongue on her pulse and beard prickling her skin, and Beth rolls onto her front to muffle her cries against her squashed pillow, afraid that she’ll wake her dad up after all if she doesn’t. “That’s my good girl, c’mon. You gonna come for me yet? Wanna hear you get off, Beth, c’mon.”

Beth plants her knees in the mattress and lifts her ass in the air, and Daryl’s big rough hands slide over the curve of it to tuck themselves between her thighs and spread them wider, making room for his dick. It’s thick and wet and almost more than she can take even after all these months of doing exactly that, cunt pliable as taffy every time he pushes into her, but he’s not pushing into her right now, no; he’s teasing her, shaft settling hot and heavy between her flared lips, spongy head catching on her clit and making it sing.

But it’s still not good enough. Fuck, it isn’t. It used to be she could come just thinking about him even without his voice panting down a phone line and rumbling in her ear, but now her building orgasm’s plateaued, digging in its heels every time her clit starts to spasm in earnest like it’s trying to punish her for failing to convince Daryl to come over here and get her off with his own two hands.  

“I can’t, Daddy,” she says, and there’s nothing exaggerated about the sob she muffles against her pillow, mouth slack and drooling while her two longest fingers rub her clit hard enough to make it go briefly numb, foot twitching and catching against Daryl’s discarded shorts when the renewed buzz of feeling steps an inch over the line of too much. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—”

“Yeah, you can, c’mon.” He’s jerking his dick faster now, she can hear it, and when she pictures how he must look in this instant—knuckles white, cock flushed purple and pulsing with blue-green veins, lower lip caught between his bared teeth and chewed raw—it does even more for her than pretending that they were fucking did. “Gotta get that pussy ready for me, Beth. Ain’t allowed to wash up after this, alright? I’mma come get you tomorrow, an’ if you ain’t still wet when I get there, I’m gonna spank your ass till you cry, y’hear me?”

She wants to tell him that he won’t have to worry about that, that she’s gonna be wet for the rest of her goddamn life because of him, but she’s in a place beyond words, humping her own hand and grunting into her pillow and pretending that her fingers are his dick, that he’s getting her off with more than just the wrecked scrape of his voice, the voice that’s calling her baby and good girl and telling her to c’mon, Beth, wanna hear you fuckin’ come, girl

And then even that breaks up and scatters into a long guttural moan, and she can feel his shuddering breath in the base of her spine because he’s coming, he’s coming, and that’s what finally gets her off, too. Every muscle in her body clenches painfully tight and then releases in a long ripple, and she bites her pillowcase to muffle her grunts while her legs jerk and her pussy slurps at her fingers the way it could be slurping at his dick, sucking down the sticky spill of his come like a thirsty mouth with a glass of water.

Her legs slide out from underneath her a second later, and she collapses onto her front, jaw loosening, teeth releasing the fold of cotton she bit into when she came. Her mouth’s bone dry, and she doesn’t know if it’s from the fabric absorbing her saliva or because so much of her body’s supply of moisture is leaking out from between her sprawling legs.

Well. Whatever.

She tilts the phone away from her cheek for a second to check its battery—the screen’s smeared with a film of sweat, just like she knew it would be—before bringing it back to her ear. She can hear Daryl panting down the line, but she still asks, “You there?”

Grunt. Beth decides to take it as an affirmative.

She pulls her hand out from between her legs and presses it to her mouth. Licks the taste of her orgasm off her pruned fingers and pretends that it’s Daryl who’s lapping at her, satisfied and sleepy. “Hey, Daryl.”


She flips her pillow over so the wet side’s facing down, then collapses back against it with a contented little grunt. “You better’ve meant what you said about comin’ to get me tomorrow.”

She recognizes his hard exhale for what it is—laughter. “Yeah, girl. I fuckin’ meant it.”

“Good.” Her eyes droop shut, but she’s not ready to blink out. Not just yet. “Love you.”

“…Love you too,” he mumbles, quiet and shy and still unused to saying it, and even if getting each other off over the phone wasn’t quite as good as getting each other off in person, hearing him say that, no matter the distance between them, is always more than enough.  




JIMMY: what do y’all want now

AMY: oh wow

AMY: that’s a nice way of talking to your BEST FRIENDS

JIMMY: best friends don’t laugh when you trip backwards over a rock

AMY: um, that’s EXACTLY what best friends do

AMY: we’re RIDE OR DIE, jimmy


JIMMY: can i pick “die”

AMY: no, you can’t

but you CAN pick up my half of the check later

beth’s too

JIMMY: or i could just stay home

AMY: nope, that’s not an option either

don’t make me come over there and embarrass you in front of your mother

beth, tell jimmy to stop being a pissbaby and come out to lunch with us


AMY: earth to beth!!

BETH: Whoops, sorry. Daryl was asking me what I wanted for breakfast.

AMY: you’re at daryl’s??

BETH: Yup :) <3

And if Maggie asks, I stayed the night at your place.

AMY: i got u babe

AMY: say hi to daddy for me ;)

BETH: typing…

JIMMY: typing…

JIMMY: nope

JIMMY: it’s too early in the morning for this shit

JIMMY: i’m turnin my phone off till y’all stop actin like freaks

AMY: coward!!!

BETH: Amy!!

BETH: Don’t be mean to him okay he’s traumatized.

AMY: oh please he’s fine

AMY: so i guess mr. dixon finally got some time off huh?

BETH: Yeah. I told him he should get some rest instead, but he really wanted to see me, so here I am.

AMY: yeah, i’ll bet THAT’S a real chore

BETH: :)

AMY: guess you don’t need to worry about learning how to sext, after all

BETH: typing…

BETH: Yup.

BETH: Guess I don’t.

AMY: omg

u hussy

BETH: Hey! Uncalled for.


AMY: so is daryl coming out with us later??

BETH: I dunno. D’you think Jimmy’ll be alright if he does?

AMY: i mean, probably not. but that’s half the fun!!

BETH: You’ve got problems, Amy.

AMY: like ur one to talk

AMY: lil miss daddy kink


BETH: Look, breakfast is just about ready, so I’ll see you later?


AMY: and you gotta tell me everything okay i’m going through a dry spell rn and i need to live vicariously thru SOMEONE

BETH: typing…

BETH: I think Jimmy was on to something.

AMY: ??

BETH: I’m turning off my phone until you stop acting like a weirdo.

BETH: Bye.

AMY: ;)