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Daryl’s hands trembled as he stumbled out into the middle of the forest, just far enough away that he wouldn’t be seen or heard by the admittedly scary-as-shit group of assholes he’d gotten himself mixed up with lately. Joe’s Claimers were some of the worst lowlife scum he’d ever met, just lookin’ for a chance to kill and rape and take what wasn’t theirs, using the apocalypse as their excuse.
Opportunists. Merle taught him to take what he could get, when he could get it, but even at his most desperate Daryl’s big brother would never stoop to taking advantage of someone when their back was turned. From what Daryl’d heard of some of this group’s exploits, they weren’t above stealing, attacking those weaker than themselves, and hurting kids – it made Daryl blanch just to think about.
Daryl had his guard up all the time around the Claimers; only now that he’d finally slipped away from them for a few bare minutes could he finally allow himself to tremble and panic the way he’d needed to for days. His hands shook as he lowered his crossbow to the ground, his breathing became faster and shriller until he was near-hyperventilating, panicking in a pine needle-strewn clearing, marching back and forth in a messy line like a drunkard pacing before a fight.
But there was nothing to fight. Just trees, skinny as his arm, far as the eye could see, lining up like the bars of a cage. He would run, but he had nowhere to go, no one to run to. Beth was gone right under his nose. His big brother wasn’t just missing for the night, he was missing for good. And if Rick and Carl were smart, they were miles away from here and this fucked-up, lawless no man’s land ruled by the Claimers and inhabited by honorary fuck-ups who had nowhere else to turn.
Daryl had nervous attacks like this before, but this one was different. He felt like he couldn’t even keep his eyes focused, and there was a gnawing feeling in his belly like he hadn’t eaten for weeks. His temperature ran high even as the nights grew foggy and cool. His back ached, his stomach churned, and his…his…
Oh, no…
No, please no, Daryl thought frantically, as the telltale warmth rose across his cheeks and spread through his chest, his stomach, and lower, please, he begged of whoever might be listening to please not let this be happening now.
It became clear in moments: he was in heat. The peak of it was coming on fast, undoubtedly spurred on by his hunger and stress. His body was going into survival-overdrive mode: thinking he didn’t have a lot of time left to carry on his genes, it was throwing all of its remaining energies towards reproduction.
He cursed his gender, and not for the first time: whenever he’d gone into heat before, he’d just wander off alone to hunt, and deal with it out there, rather than have to face any of the alphas or betas in his group. From what he could tell, he was the only omega in the entire prison, save Carol, and a few other young girls for whom mating was a far-off possibility. Being a rarity was not an advantage, not anymore. Daryl would’ve given anything to have been born a plain-old male alpha, especially now.
Heat was constant, pulsing. It built up in Daryl’s chest until it suffocated, made him weak. He needed to find shelter before he fainted or consumed, or became so senseless for sex he would willingly approach Joe for relief. He groaned and leaned against the tree, slamming his fist into the smooth bark and biting down hard on his lip.
His sex was heating up in his drawers, cradled in the flimsy material of his briefs which had never felt so foreign to him until this moment. He couldn’t help but give in just a little – he stuck a hand down the front of his waistband and teased the errant hairs above his pulsing erection, not daring to go further. The heat struck him over and over with waves of static-electric lust, until he couldn’t wait anymore, and unhooked his jeans, knowing well that the action would be his undoing.
Daryl slid his jeans down over his hips one-handed, the other leaning him against a tree, curled into the shading confines of the trunk. The fabric scraped down his hips like fingernails, making him wilder, causing a silent shudder to clatter up his throat, as he reached and grabbed his sex firmly. The shaft grew thick in his hand, and slick, the slippery-pink head pointing towards the sky, the base cradled still by the band of his briefs. He squeezed gently, letting his hand slide slowly up and down the shaft, breath shuddering out with every stroke, mouth falling haphazardly open.
He stood alone, feeling and testing his body, himself his only partner, as it had been for a long time now. He had to comfort himself; there was no longer anyone else. No longer even the possibility… He gasped aloud as he stroked himself, increasing speed and panting softly with the friction.
The pink shaft slid easily through the circle of his fingers, clear, wet fluid dribbling down the back of his sac, an unmistakeable sign of his improbable fertility. He let out a groan of effort as his shorts grew soaked by his fluids, from the front and the back.
Then, a twig snapping that would have tipped Daryl off had he been able to focus on anything besides the biological need controlling his movements echoed through the forest. The damp spruce and pine needles that decorated the forest floor swished as footsteps came closer, until they were too close to ignore, and Daryl froze in horror.
“I should be mad, you know,” Joe said softly, as he watched Daryl carefully, walking across the clearing with his hands in his pockets. Daryl’s eyes went wide and he covered his privates with both hands – as though that would hide anything. His scent was probably perceptible miles away. His hormones, weakening as they were with his age, had nothing between them and any potential mates in the area, the forest an empty, echoing conduit, attracting alphas to him.
Joe stalked, showing his prowess – letting Daryl know that he didn’t need a weapon to take him down. Hell, he didn’t even need his hands. His hormones, his presence, his gender would do the work. “Hell, I should be right pissed. Because this is, technically, a lie, you know.”
Daryl was scared stock-still. He couldn’t arm his crossbow in the time it would take Joe to get out his gun. He could die here, his pants around his ankles, with Joe looking over his shoulder like a predator. The man was everywhere, there was no hiding from him. It seemed like his presence permeated every inch of the forest, boxing Daryl in, pressing in on him from all sides. Daryl felt surrounded, panicked, heartbeat rising in his chest like a scared rabbit, blood speeding through his veins.
“But actually, I’m pretty impressed,” Joe continued gently, “you bein’ able to hold your own with a group of alphas? Can’t say I ever thought I’d see an omega do that.”
Joe saying the word out loud gave it a certain finality that made Daryl flinch, the blood in his veins turning to ice. He knew. Of course he knew. There was one thing in this world that remained consistent, despite all the violence, all the devastation, and all the loss – and that was sex.
“Well,” Joe mumbled, and Daryl jolted, and backed away until his back hit the tree. Cornered. Backed in. “what are we gonna do about this little predicament?”
Daryl didn’t speak. His mind and heart were telling him he needed to get out of here, needed to make any excuse, any action to get as far away from here as possible, but his body and his hormones were not only locking his feet in place, they were even drawing him a little closer. Being connected to a pack of alphas was, under any other circumstances, was one of the safest places for an omega to be. More mates meant more stability, and Hell, maybe even under these circumstances, latching himself to an alpha or two would grant him a bit of safety.
Too bad he’d run across just about the worst pack of alphas he could ever meet.
Joe sidled closer, a sway in his hips that belied the shape – and not inconsiderable size – of his genitals, awakened by the scent of an omega in heat, growing thick enough to see from where Daryl stood against the tree, panting. The older man leaned closer, until he was inches away from Daryl, hands still in his pockets, nudging Daryl’s cheek with his nose, and sniffing him like an excited dog.
“I came out here lookin’ for grub, and I find you pullin’ off beside a tree, whinin’ like a pup while you did it,” Joe muttered, grey beard rubbing Daryl’s cheek, “thought you were out of your mind. What a pleasant surprise for me to find out just what you were whinin’ about…”
Then, the older man reached out towards Daryl’s crotch, making a move as if to grab but stopping unbearably short, and making Daryl jump in terror.
“I might be able to make a deal with the others,” Joe whispered, conspiratorial and wicked, making Daryl’s toes curl. He clenched desperately at his groin, squeezing the shaft against his stomach in attempt to repress the hormones insistently raging inside him. “You let us have you, there’re no more complaints. Nothing but trust and respect from then on, brother.”
Daryl flinched. He could laugh. “Trust and respect”? He would be lucky to settle for tolerance and the mercy of a quick forced breeding. His breathing picked up and he turned away from Joe’s seeking mouth, which was angled towards his own with intent.
Joe chuckled. “That’s it, my wild cat,” he reached a dirty hand out and slid it around Daryl’s waist, dragging deliberately across his stomach and settling on the opposite hip. Daryl’s breath hitched. “You won’t take this lying down, will you? Not even as the heat creeps up your spine, makes you feral, makes you into something closer to what you truly are inside…”
Daryl turned away, unable to speak even as his face flushed with anticipation. He had integrity: his body was worth more than this, that’s what being with Rick’s group had taught him. Hands crept up his sides, skilled fingers flitting under the edge of his shirt and hiking it up his belly an inch, Daryl jerking out of reach as the cool air met his skin.
But Joe didn’t back off like he had before, on the road. His hand slammed down on the bark of the tree above Daryl’s head, fencing him in, his pleasant, “wilderness sophisticate” demeanor turned snarling.
“Listen, you can let this happen by your own free will,” Joe hissed, “or you can fight and squirm and try to run, whatever suits you. Because it’s gonna happen either way.”
Daryl’s breathing grew panicked and he curled up, tried to make himself small. Over Joe’s shoulder he could see the approaching remaining Claimers, coming in ones and twos from all directions, like a real pack of wolves, no doubt lured by his scent. Tony, Dan, Harley, whoever they were, Daryl didn’t want to know, all he knew was he suddenly wanted nothing to do with these men, alphas or not.
“Whadda we have here?” Dan mumbled as he made the clearing, eyes dark with intent, “y’all been hidin’ this from us this whole time?”
The other men seemed less coherent, wordlessly stalking closer with mouths hanging open like rabid dogs. Daryl covered himself in vain, erection heating up in his cold hands as the alphas’ scents drew nearer, their ruts spurred on by his heat, their bodies growing hot and strong before his eyes. He still didn’t say a word; he could say nothing to defend himself, anyway. Heat was heat – impossible to ignore.
“I get to knot him, ’cause I found him,” Joe hissed lowly, looking upon all of his men in turn, and that was all that was said about it. No further discussion, and the men were on him immediately.
Daryl gasped in surprise as hands darted out from behind him and grabbed his wrists, yanking them off of his privates and up over his head, holding him to the tree. His back arched as he squirmed to free himself but he was all-but useless next to these alphas – they were huge and strong already, even without the added energy of the rut making them nigh-unstoppable. But Daryl fought anyway, until they yanked him sharply back against the tree, knocking the back of his head against the trunk and making him woozy.
More hands slid up his column, under his shirt and across his ribs, his nipples. Someone, Daryl didn’t know who, went to his knees in front of him, and licked at the tip of his waning erection. Daryl jolted in shock, his entire body going tight like the string of a bow, as a hot mouth engulfed him, started to suck him down. His cock grew hard in moments, a hot mouth sealed over the end sucking greedily, running the rough of his tongue over the ultra-sensitive tip. Daryl’s breath sped up, unable to move, unable to resist as fingers curled around his hip bones and drew him closer.
Daryl nearly screamed as his cock sunk completely into the wet, hot, clinging space of the alpha’s mouth, arms trembling where they were stretched over his head, the grey mid-morning cool rushing across the bare skin of his belly and hips in contrast to the heat around his cock. A finger left its place on his hip and traced around his sack and slowly crept backwards, towards Daryl’s clenching hole, making him automatically flinch and try to jerk away.
“No,” Daryl gasped out, so quiet he wasn’t sure if he’d said it aloud, but at least one of the Claimers heard it, and smirked with glee.
“Heh, don’t you worry,” Len chuckled, “we won’t let you go away hungry.”
Daryl shook his head in protest as the finger reached his opening and pulled it open, relishing in the gush of fluid that came out. He pulled off Daryl’s cock then, teasing the hole excitedly, tracing his finger around the rim and smiling to himself as it convulsed in reply.
“Omega,” the alpha smirked, “I know what you want. Turn him around, y’ingrates,” he ordered of another two alphas, who quickly complied. They snatched Daryl by the hips, wrapping the flesh with thick, calloused fingers, and wrenched him around, throwing him against the tree front-first. Daryl cried out as his chest hit the trunk, rolling his hips forward automatically, seeking the shelter of the wood. But instead hands yanked his waist back, raising his ass to the air and presenting him, forcibly, to the pack.
Daryl squirmed and tried to reach back but two hands grasped his own and pulled them around the tree. Another pair took a twisted t-shirt and tied it around his wrists, tying him around the narrow trunk. He couldn’t get his balance enough to try and pull his hands out, and besides, he felt himself growing weaker with every second, his mind woozy, foggy, and his body pulsing with heat. It was colossal, unyielding. He couldn’t escape it. Even as his mind was telling him to escape, to run and hide, his body was overpowering those impulses and keeping his feet locked in place.
“Whew, baby, that’s what I like,” a voice came from over his shoulder and Daryl gasped as a hand struck his backside, that was raised helplessly in the air, presenting him to the alphas behind him. “Look at that tight little thing.”
Two hands clasped over his ass-cheeks and spread them roughly apart, making Daryl shudder and drop his head between his shoulders. It was humiliating, how helpless he was, but even if he got free, there was no way he was gonna be able to take on six thick-necked alpha men this messy with rut. They were panting all around him, breaths loud and harsh as they circled Daryl like a pack of coyotes, opportunists, dead-set on having him. Claiming him. Mating him.
For a moment, the possibility of the situation rose up in Daryl’s mind and he renewed his jerking to get free – he could get pregnant. He was pretty sure he was too old for the seed to take after just one mating, but still, there was the possibility that terrified Daryl with sudden clarity: weighed down by a swollen belly, giving birth in the wilderness surrounded by a pack of opportunistic killers…no, it was too much, he squirmed and fought feebly against his bonds as two hands grasped his ass, spreading his clenching, dripping hole for all to see.
A thick finger slid inside his hole, igniting Daryl’s ultra-sensitive passage with sparks of stimulation, making him buck frantically. The alpha explored his insides, feeling around for the spot that made Daryl writhe and nearly lose his footing as the finger prodded, circling his hole, opening him up. A soft chorus of laughs echoed behind him and Daryl flinched, biting down on his lip to curb his reactions. His channel pulsed with heat, making his arms and hips tremble as he was frozen in place by the probing finger.
Another finger joined the first and Daryl cried out, biting down on his lip so hard his teeth indented the soft flesh. Two fingers pushed inside him, past the waning resistance of his ring and into the slick heat. Fluid gushed and flowed down his ass and back of his thighs, and Daryl moaned helplessly with every thrust of the hand into his body.
The third finger had Daryl basically incoherent, barely resisting rocking his hips against the thick digits that spread and worked his begging, clenching hole. His body felt hot all over, his face heating up as if with a fever, he couldn’t move save for the undulating of his hips against the hand. Fluid dribbled down his hips until his inner thighs were slick with it, his underwear utterly soaked.
The hand withdrew and Daryl gasped, and it was all that he could do to not follow the hand, pushing his ass back further into the air, presenting his ready entrance for the alphas who were muttering and whispering behind him, competition sparking between them as they decided who would get him first. Normally, alphas would spar, an all-out fight to decide the winner, but all of them knew each other’s strengths too well, knew that they needed each other out here to survive, and were too scared to make a move. Plus, none of them wanted to risk losing the chance to fuck because of some injury brought on by pride and impatience.
“Get ready, omega bitch,” one of the men finally decided; he sounded like the oldest, but Daryl couldn’t see. He wrenched Daryl’s pants down his legs until they were around his ankles, his thighs shiny with slick that dripped all the way to his knees, cooling in the autumn air. Two hands grasped his hips and then something far thicker than the fingers entered his ass, sinking in just the tip and making Daryl cry and throw back his head.
No matter how much he wanted it, Daryl still wasn’t prepared for the feeling of an alpha’s cock in him. It had been years, he’d gone so long without that his body was now rebelling against his reluctance, forcing his back into a sharp curve, pushing his ass up into the air, making him ready to be fucked. His hands clenched into fists around the back of the tree. He couldn’t breathe. The alpha’s cock opened him up, steadily creeping forward, his hole spreading around the head, and the thick shaft, until when he was barely halfway in Daryl couldn’t stay on his feet.
His knees gave out and he nearly sunk to the floor but strong hands gripped his hips and held him up. Another pair held his hands and kept him upright while he panted and groaned, the alpha’s cock sliding in an inch at a time, filling him slowly until it was hilted, thick and big and hot, so hot. Daryl whined and rolled his hips forward, clenching subconsciously to keep the cock in him, wincing at the pain of tightening down around him.
“That’s it, that’s it,” a voice behind him echoed and Daryl flinched.
“Whew, he likes that, don’t he?” another voice came, followed by a chorus of grunts of agreement. Daryl flushed with humiliation but he couldn’t bring himself to resist, rolling his hips into the curved shaft penetrating him, filling him up. His instincts were screaming at him to mate and fuck endlessly until they were satisfied, making him tremble all over, thighs and teeth rattling, and then, the alpha moved.
Daryl jerked as stars flew behind his eyes, the man thrusting into him slowly and thoroughly, the rough drag of his hips drawing pleasure from every nerve-ending in Daryl’s body. He gasped in a few shaky breaths until after just a few movements he came, groaning and arching his back, mouth open wide with shock. A few thrusts and that was all it took. He looked down to see his spent cock bowing only slightly, as if resting until the next round.
“That was fast,” the man behind Daryl muttered, but didn’t slow his movements. He fucked Daryl beyond coherence until the omega was twitching and flinching with each thrust into his over-sensitized body. The thrusts grew rapid, still pleasurable but too fast, too slick until the alpha suddenly stilled, pumping in a few slow, deliberate thrusts as he came.
“Don’t knot him,” Joe snapped over Daryl’s shoulder, and he felt the cock leave him abruptly, come splashing against his backside as the alpha came with a strangled groan.
“I wasn’t!” the first alpha stuttered out, panting as he released Daryl’s hips. Daryl couldn’t see but could hear the squelch of the man stroking his own cock, groaning as his knot grew. Without the pressure of an omega’s body to quell the swelling, the pain was almost unbearable, and the alpha collapsed on his behind on the ground, squeezing the hardened base of his dick in near agony. He was incapacitated for now, but Daryl knew from experience that after the knot went down, the alpha would be just as wild and unstoppable as before.
Daryl panted, his back aching, hanging helplessly between the tree and his unsupported hips, he barely had a moment of respite until another alpha was inside him, sliding in deep and groaning with relief.
“Doesn’t get…no better than this…” the alpha brayed behind him, and Daryl winced as he was reamed anew. The pain was nothing compared to the nerves, firing rapidly all through his body, exhausting him with the stimulation until he could see nothing, hear nothing, just feel being mated over and over. The second man took his time, going slow and deep, until he was forced to pull away before his body took over and his knot popped with a miserable groan. A third man was there in seconds. Daryl felt orgasm welling up in him again and again, until it was a seamless, endless chain of pleasure, nearly blacking out each time he climaxed, unaware if he was even ejaculating or not. It didn’t matter; his body needed more alpha spend, that was its only goal. His hips undulated weakly and without his consent, pulsing with need as the men had him.
By the time the fourth man finished on his back, Daryl could hardly stand, and mercifully, they untied his arms, allowing him to pull away from the tree.
“On all fours, like a dog,” one of the Claimers chuckled crassly, and was answered by murmurs of agreement from his fellow alphas. Daryl’s hands met the ground but before his knees could follow he was pulled up by his hips, as easily as if he weighed nothing, so he was stood on his hands and feet like a real beast.
“Fuck it, can’t wait,” the man spouted, and shoved inside. Daryl couldn’t help the moan that escaped him; he wondered how many noises he’d made, what he’d said while being mated…the things he let slip. He couldn’t consciously recall how long it’d been, or where he was… Instinct had taken over. All he could do was ride the cycle of fucking and being fucked. He was fucked on all fours like an animal, with skin flushed all the way down his chest, as orgasm washed over him again, the tingle of firing nerves spreading across his entire body. Daryl nearly slipped down to the ground but the alpha kept him held up, until he followed the omega to completion, shouting his orgasm and pulling roughly away.
Daryl fell to the ground, just barely catching himself above the mossy floor, damp in the autumn mist. He started to fade into sleep when a boot connected with his side, nudging him roughly. He looked up to see Joe above him, encouraging him with a tilt of his chin.
“That everybody?” Joe called to the group at large, and the alphas murmured their replies, most cradling still-swollen knots and beyond irritated. Like bulls riled up to fight, the alphas were wild with rage barely sated by sex. In a normal pack situation, Daryl knew he’d have to accept them for another few rounds, but he didn’t know if he could handle it.
“My turn, then, isn’t it, my little wild cat?” Joe teased, head tilted, “get up.”
Daryl struggled to get up to his hands and knees, and naked from the waist down, he stood, still in the centre of the alphas.
“Run,” Joe ordered, and Daryl’s eyes widened. “I want to chase you.”
So he did. Legs aching and numb, stumbling about until he could get his feet to just go in the right direction, Daryl streaked away, tearing around a tree and out of the crowd. He wove between tree trunks, razor-thin branches slashing his face, leaving stinging red cuts across his cheeks and arms. He narrowly avoided slamming his shoulders into the braces of bark, sprinting away as fast as his weak legs could carry him.
He ran, wind rushing past him, the moans of ever-present walkers babbling in the far distance like the water of a brook. He dashed to the left and then weaved to the right, knowing there was no escape: he was all but caught already. He heard the stomping of footfalls in the brush behind him, loud as a rockslide, but he kept going, running as if his life depended on it. He ran until his chest burned and his arms and face were struck with bruises from the lashing of branches. He ran until he thought he would collapse, and then ran more, his lungs heaving to take in air until arms caught him around his waist and he was falling, falling to the ground.
The man was all over him, hands clawing at his clothes, grinding against his thigh as Daryl tried to crawl away. He kicked his legs ineffectually, muscles searing hot with the exertion of running, skin of his thighs slippery with slick and sweat. The alpha pulled at his arms and legs, trying to turn him onto his front and Daryl rammed an elbow back into the man’s chest, hard enough to crack ribs, but the alpha didn’t relent, rearing up and slamming his fist into Daryl’s jaw.
Daryl fell to the ground, senseless, head swimming, drowning with darkness, vision spinning in the wake of the impact. His nails sunk deep into the earth as he was rolled onto his side, legs opened and violated once again.
“Aaaauggh!”
Daryl screamed as he was entered again, voice cracking the misty quiet of the forest, arching his back in pain as the alpha’s thick cock sunk in to the hilt. He reached down and tried to shove the alpha off of him, the instincts to fight and flee warring with his hormones, red rising before his eyes when he was punched again, the second hit cracking against his cheekbone. He rolled his hips automatically forward, one last attempt to escape ending him on his stomach beneath the alpha’s body.
Joe pulled him back by the hips, lifting Daryl up a little onto his knees, his chest still flat to the ground as he fucked him beyond resistance. His cock drove deep with each thrust smacking his thighs against Daryl’s ass, knot growing thicker in increments with each desperate second.
Short groans and sighs vented from the man behind him and Daryl realized he was trapped. He was a beast in a cage, trapped by his biology, his hips tilted up, made to be fucked. He could mentally check out if the sensation wasn’t so near, so fluid, like it permeated his very flesh, liquid, molten. Every second of the alpha inside him was fire, until the knot started to swell, bumping against the bud of his prostate with each thrust.
“No…oh…” Daryl moaned hopelessly as a hand scooped beneath his belly and fondled his cock, neglected until now. His fingers dove into the earth, sinking through the moss and into the flesh beneath, squeezing as a hand flew across the head of his cock, pumping the shaft just a few short times before focusing on the head. A calloused palm rolled across the top of the head until he was crying wordlessly, begging for completion.
Orgasm came across him like a burst of stars, and Daryl stifled a shout into his arm, teeth sinking into the fabric of his jacket. He felt the alpha’s knot growing inside him, thicker and thicker until it was too big to pull out, and the alpha slammed it deep inside, growing huge as it gushed with cum. The man let out a low groan, a growl of proclaiming, claiming the omega as his mate as he spilled inside him. Daryl’s hips went numb as the huge knot bulged inside him, locking the two of them together as the alpha came over and over, filling him to the brim with seed.
Joe collapsed on top of him, gripping his wrists, fierce strength finally curbed, but only just. Daryl couldn’t move to fight or get away anyway, trapped beneath the other man’s body, the stink of his sweat pervading his senses, the knot tying them together. They lied like that for a while, Daryl forced to tilt his hips up slightly to accept the girth of the knot, his body pinned to the ground. As he recovered his breath in great, heaving gasps, he was never so grateful for a moment of respite.
It was supposed to be good, fulfilling – Daryl just felt betrayed. He was tied to these alphas now, the one still inside him in particular – he couldn’t escape even if he tried, his body wouldn’t let him. His heat still thrummed in the background, a steady warmth beneath his skin, and he knew from experience it would just get worse. Soon he wouldn’t be able to run.