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Soon You’ll Run With Better Men

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He’s horny. 

Thing is, Daryl, never gets horny. Not since the whole world went to shit, anyways, and even before that. He’d learned to suppress that tingling feeling that left him uncomfortable and like he wanted to tear his skin off. He wasn’t like Merle, or his old man, or all the degenerates he used to hang around with, he couldn’t look at a woman and think about her like that. 

It was demeaning and invasive, two things he knew about the most, courtesy of his daddy’s beatings. Sometime during his childhood his little boy brain just started associating touch with bad things, any kind of touch , and then when he got older that bled out into sex too. And Christ, would a shrink have a field day with him, or what.  

So he sighs heavily and tries to think of other things. 

Walker guts, the smell, the texture, the beating sun on his neck and face. 

He most definitely does not turn to look over at Beth playing with little ass kicker. 

He doesn’t need any more fodder in his ‘Daryl is a piece of shit’ rolodex. He knows okay? He knows Beth is probably only seventeen or something, and he’s probably old enough to be her daddy but she’s the only one around that he feels safe even thinking about. 

There’s a bunch of new women from Woodbury but they’re too forward and maybe they weren’t like that before but now they remind him of the type of woman that Merle always had hanging around. Desperate for attention and a little loving, even if it came at a price, but also hanging their hopes on a piece of shit that was never going to take them away from their run down trailer parks and boring lives. Those types of women made him sick to his stomach because they reminded him of his mama and he was not going there

One day one of them put her hand on his arm and he almost fell back on his ass with how fast he jumped away. So, no, he ain’t jerking it to no lady from Woodbury, no matter how much she wants him. 

And that’s why Beth is safe. 

She’s sweet and gentle and sometimes she puts her hand on his shoulder to thank him for something stupid and he barely even tenses. He’s seen her kiss Rick on the cheek sometimes too, but he thinks he would probably drop dead if she ever did that to him. She’s too cute and young, and when she sings to lil’ ass kicker, sometimes he pretends she’s singing to him. 

So he thinks about her some nights when he’s perched up on the tower on guard duty, or when he’s trying to fall asleep in the cell he fucking hates, he thinks about her hands and the graceful curve to her neck. He thinks about her blonde hair and how soft it looks under the morning sun, she smiles at him and the only thing he can do is shrug and stare like a dumbass. So the fuck what, it’s a pipe dream but it’s his , and it’s been such a long time that he’s had anything that was his own. 

He watches as Rick comes outside towards Beth and the baby, the other man says something and Beth laughs, Daryl shifts his weight and keeps digging pits for the water system they’re trying to build. He goes on like that for hours, stopping only to guzzle on some water or for a lunch break. By then end of it, the sun is slowly coming down and he’s exhausted, it’s his turn to be up on the guard tower for watch and he can’t be more glad for that. 

It means he won’t have to see Beth walking around, dressed for bed, honestly, he doesn’t know how Hershel lets her walk around in those shorts and that large shirt that’s always slipping off a shoulder. 

He takes a blanket up with him, and a bottle of water, Carol offers to keep him company but he declines, he’s feeling too on edge and she doesn’t deserve his bad mood. 

It’s boring and quiet and his thoughts start drifting to other things. 

Muscled legs, pale slivers of skin that peek out from beneath too small shirts, eyes too big and wide that look like some type of Disney princesses, cute toes that are always painted in bright colors, he thinks of putting her little toes in his mouth and wonders if she’d be into that type of nasty shit. 

Daryl doesn’t even bother to go inside the tower, it’s too late and no one should be outside anyways, he just struggles with his belt for a couple of seconds and pushes down his boxers until his cock is out and hot in his hand. 

He tugs on the foreskin and hisses when it hurts just a little bit, he hates jerking off dry so he spits into his palm and starts stroking himself. He starts breathing hard and he lets his eyes close, lets his head fall back when he thinks about her. 

About her legs wrapped around his waist, maybe bent over, under the spray of the shower in the prison, she’d tremble in his arms, little thing like her, he would corner her and tell her to take her fucking clothes off. He’d make her suck him off, and swallow every last bit of come, she’d make a face but she’d still do it, because she’s a good girl and she wouldn’t want to disappoint him. 

He thinks about fucking her in the middle of the day, in her cell, with only the curtain protecting them from prying eyes. Her eyes wide and scared, but still, she would spread her legs for him and hold him close. 

Maybe one day they would go out hunting together and she’d be so happy to bag her first kill that she would turn around and kiss him like she does Rick, but then it would turn to something else and she’d press him against a tree and her eyes would tell him everything he wants to know. 

He groans and his strokes get harder, quicker, violent even, with his sudden need for her. 

He’s so near, knows it’s going to be a good one and—

“Daryl?” he hears someone call his name and nononono this can’t be happening

“Fuck! Christ,” he curses and fumbles with his boxers and jeans, he turns and there she is, Beth holding a mug of something in her hands, her eyes glassy and big, and she’s not even wearing a sweater or anything but those damn pajamas and a pair of sneakers he’s seen her wear once or twice. 

“What the fuck are you doin’?” he almost shouts, angry with embarrassment, “what the fuck are you even doin’ here?” 

Something in his tone must jolt her out of her funk because suddenly she turns bright pink and starts tripping over her words, “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t-the door was open and I—I didn’t know—“

“Yeah, well, now you do, so if you could go back to where you came from, that would be peachy fucking keen,” he bites back, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to look her in the face again, and that’s a damned shame, but there’s no way she doesn’t know what he was doing before she snuck up on him. 

Beth keeps standing near the stairs and her eyes are still big and he’s not about to start feeling like some pervert because her stupid babmbi eyes can’t handle seeing a cock. It’s her own fucking fault anyways, who the fuck doesn’t warn someone they’re coming up in the middle of the night. 

“The fuck you’re still standing there for? Go!” he finally shouts, hopefully not loud enough to wake anybody up but loud enough to have her flinch at his tone, her gaze falls down and her hair falls to cover half her face and fuck, now she’s got him feeling guilty for snapping at her. 

He hates that look on her face, the one he used to see on his mama too often to count for anything, anytime his daddy would start shouting and she would act like it was her fault that Will Dixon got drunk and slapped her around. He’s seen the same look on Beth’s eyes when someone snaps at her, it doesn’t happen often, and he thinks people only do it because they think they can get away with it with her, but seeing it once is enough. 

He bites at his lip, feeling like an idiot but not knowing what to say. He guesses that if he was a teenage girl, he would be pretty traumatized at accidentally seeing a grown man jerking off, and he’s about to apologize or do something else when she speaks, almost too quiet to even hear her but her words are clear enough that Daryl has to clarify just in case he didn’t suddenly have a stroke and start hearing shit. 

“What’d you just say?” 

She shrugs, the white cotton shirt falling from her shoulder, “I said, you didn’t have to stop ‘cause of me.” 

He laughs, without much humor in his voice, “Let me get this straight, you wanna what? Watch me rub one out?”

Her cheeks get even pinker but she stays quiet, and she’s not saying no, what the fuck. What. The. Fuck. 

“A’right, you had your fun, now go back inside,” he says, speaking to her in that same way he does to Patrick, like he’s just a kid and doesn’t know any better. But Beth only tightens her jaw and her eyes finally meet his and Daryl realizes he’s made some kind of terrible mistake. 

“Why, you ‘fraid you’re going to like it?” she asks, her eyes sparkle with defiance and he’s left mute, fuck , all he wanted to do was bust a nut and smoke a cigarette after, maybe have a piece of stale chocolate as a reward for keeping his hands to himself. And now he has little Beth Greene asking him to keep tugging at his meat like some—some fucking porno. 

If she tries to participate, Daryl will throw himself off the tower, swear to god. 

“The fuck’s got into ya?” he asks, “you hit your head on the way up here?” 

Beth scowls, or at least he figures she’s trying, her pretty face could never hold such an ugly expression unlike his own. But she sets the mug in her hands on the landing and then crosses her arms over her chest, and huffs a little puff of air, “ No , I didn’t hit my head ,” she tells him, “I just— I’unno, I’ve never seen one before and I trust you.” 

Daryl squints his eyes at her, jesus fuckin’ christ, what has his world come to. “What?” 

Beth bites her lip, juts her hip out and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, “I— there’s no one around here my age, and the chances of me getting a boyfriend are like zero and I don’t want to die before seeing a penis, y’know?” 

No. Daryl doesn’t know. 

But he stays silent, staring at her until she fidgets from foot to foot, he clears his throat and even so, his voice comes out rougher than usual, “So, I’m like a last resort?” 

“No!” she says, too loudly, and Daryl almost flinches but then her voice gets quiet again and it feels like he’s been punched straight in the chest, “No, I think you’re cute, but I know you will never see me like that, so—“ Beth shrugs, gives him a shy little grin and he believes her. He believes her. 

Makes him want to give her the world, anything she wants. Because what kind of fucked up world is it that this pretty girl is asking him to show her his cock because she doesn’t want to die without seeing one, it would be a riot if it wasn’t so goddamn sad. He can’t tell her he thinks about her while he does it though, she said she trusted him right? Probably means that she doesn’t think he would ever try to hurt her in that way, and he wouldn’t. In his dreams she’s always a willing participant, but real life ain’t so clean cut is it. Right. Right, he can do this. He can give her this simple little thing if it means never having to admit he thinks more about her than he’d like. 

“C’mere,” he tells her, and Beth walks closer, close enough for him to rest his hand on her arm, “y’sure ‘bout this?”

She nods and he notices that her pupils have blown wide and dark. His hand drops and goes to his jeans, he hadn’t had time earlier to zip them all the way up so it’s easy to just shove them down and grab hold of his cock. The traitorous little fuck is already half hard and he’ll be so angry if he comes before giving her what she wants. 

Beth’s gaze drifts down to his hand and it stays there, her eyes glued to the obscene motions his fist makes, there’s precome leaking out the tip but he wants it wet, sloppy, so he lets his cock fall free and brings his palm up to her mouth. 

“Spit on it,” he tells her, and Beth’s mouth falls a little open, her eyes get wide and he hears her breath hitch in her throat. 

“C’mon, just to make it wet, girl,” he tells her, and he almost smiles with pride when she does what he’s told her to. Her mouth purses and she hocks a thick wad of spit into his fingers, hot and slippery when he places it back on his dick. 

Beth steps closer and every time he strokes himself his fist bumps into her soft tummy, Daryl towers over her, crowds her against the metal rail of the tower, and he wishes he could see what sort of picture they paint. He wonders what people would say if they found them together. 

He can see her nipples harden under her shirt and the next thing he knows, words are coming out of his mouth without his permission, “Lift your shirt up.” 

Beth hesitates, she looks up at him and her cheeks are pink but her gaze is soft, her hands go to the hem of her shirt and she starts pulling it up. Daryl swallows back the sudden dryness in his mouth and groans when her tits become visible. He’s never seen a more perfect pair, small, almost flat but they look so good on her. She’s a tiny thing, be weird if she had lifted up her shirt and a pair of double D's came bouncing out. Her nipples are pink and he wants to put his mouth on them, suck on them till they turn red and puffy. 

Instead he settles a hand on one of her tits, she jolts and he almost drops his hand but her back arches and Daryl grabs hold of a nipple with calloused fingers and he pinches the flesh, Beth lets out a little sound that could be pain but then Daryl does it again and she’s sighing like it’s the greatest thing she’s ever felt. He likes the way his fingers look against her flesh, his skin dark and dirty, knuckles scarred and thick. She feels petal soft and he can only guess how his rough skin feels against hers. 

He’s getting close, his touch becomes a little rougher, desperate, he runs his palm over the head of his cock and curses. Beth’s eyes keep still on his dick and she lets him touch her however he wants, Daryl pulls her close, his knee pressing between her thighs and he comes when she looks up at him. Thick, hot spurts of come, like ribbons settles against her pale tummy, Beth looks down in what he can only describe as awe. Her hand drifts down and she rubs his come over her skin, if Daryl could, he would come again at the sight. 

He’s breathing hard and he lets his mouth drop down to her temple, he mouths words too quiet for her to hear. 

Thank you and I would do anything for you, don’t you know that by now? 

Beth pulls her shirt down and he doesn’t get to clean her up before she’s reaching up and kissing him, she’s probably aiming for his cheek but lands on the side of his mouth, lips soft and smelling like Carmex lip balm. 

She drops down to her heels and gives him a smile he’s never seen on her before, mischievous and secret, she doesn’t have to say anything because he knows, it’ll be ours, just the two of us. 

There’s a promise in her eyes too, we can do it again, if you want , and he wants, god, he wants so bad

She squeezes the hand he used to get himself off and without a word she turns around and drifts down the tower, just as quiet as she was when she came up. Daryl tucks himself back into his pants and wonders what will become of the two of them, he wonders if she’ll let him do more next time, maybe he can start taking care of her the way he wants to. 

But it doesn’t matter what he thinks, not at all, because three days later he’s meeting some college kid in an abandoned gas station, says his name is Zach. 

And then things change, sometimes he thinks that night was a fevered dream, but then Beth will look at him in a way that leaves him staring after her like an idiot. 

And then, and then she’s gone, just like that, and he never gets a chance again.