Sorry for the leave of absence. Life got in the way. I'm back now, if anyone is still reading this lol.
~~~
Nicky’s ordeal lasts for days. At some point Nicky is unchained, but Nicky doesn’t have any strength or mental capacity left to fight. He’s bred for what seems like eternity, thighs held splayed open as he’s rutted into, greedy hands groping at his ass, his chest, while dirty, degrading words are growled into his ear. His life turns into a haze of pain and unwanted pleasure and heat and suffocating Alpha-scent that smells so wrong. All he wants is his mate. All he wants is his mate’s calm, desert storm scent, his arms around him and his voice in his ear. The need is so strong that Nicky manages to slip into a daydream, or possibly a hallucination, that takes him away from the horrors happening to his body.
He goes to Malta. In moments, he’s almost happy, sharing lingering kisses with his mate, being fed tangerines from lean artist’s fingers, dozing while tangled in white, sweet scenting sheets with a strong, loving body curled around him. He can almost smell the sea, feel the wind over his naked body, hear the waves breaking upon the shore and his mate’s voice whispering poetry into his ear, until he’s ripped out of his memories by cruel, sharp fangs tearing into the side of his neck.
The only relief he feels is the knowledge that if he’s being bitten again, the mark has not taken. He is still his mate’s. He is still Joe’s, still Yusuf’s. He is not giving into the final betrayal that his body is capable of.
It is the only thing that keeps him sane.
~~~
He must have passed out at some point, for he is awake now. Nicky manages to weakly twitch, surprised that he is lucid. Everything hurts. His entire body pulses with a deep, exhausted hot ache, and he can’t even lift his eyelids. Between his legs feels loose and wet and used, his neck raw even though it must have healed. His body gives a valiant attempt at gagging at the feeling, but he does not even have the strength left for that.
“Why is it not taking?” The angry Russian is rough against his ears. Nicky stays still, which isn’t a hardship, as he doesn’t think he could move even if he wanted to.
A new voice. Reedy, and terrified. “It must be something to do with his immortality, otherwise I have no other explanation,” another man says. A beta, judging by his scent that Nicky somehow manages to get a whiff of through the nauseating smell of his own slick and the Alpha-scent of the man who had raped him.
“It’s been days,” the Alpha growls. “I’ve bitten him more times than I can count. I’m tired of the taste of blood. Why the fuck is he not mine?!” The Alpha roars the last word, and Nicky can practically hear the beta trembling.
“It may take time,” the beta tries, “his physiology is different, he won’t respond like a normal omega.”
“He’s been in heat all this time. What are you giving me that isn’t working, you useless sack of shit.”
The beta titters. “Sir, I’ve been giving you the strongest heat-inducing and bond-inducing drugs that aren’t even available on the market. There’s nothing else that I can do.”
The Alpha roars again. There’s a crash, and the sound of fleeing footsteps, a door slamming shut. The bed dips next to Nicky, and Nicky’s limp body is dragged up in violent hands.
“Wake up,” the Alpha snarls, and shakes Nicky carelessly. Nicky’s head rolls on his neck. He’s slapped, but the flare of pain is nothing compared to the pain that has settled into his bones, his soul. “Tell me why this isn’t working! I’ve knotted you for fucking days and bitten you until you should’ve bled out and died on my cock, but you still refuse to be mine!”
If Nicky could smile, he would. Maybe his lips manage to twitch, because he’s hit across the cheek viciously with a closed fist, and then shoved face first into the sweat soaked sheets. The Alpha climbs up behind him and snarls as he mounts Nicky, cock shoved deep into Nicky’s ravaged body, rutting into him impatiently. “Submit,” he growls as his thrusts jolt Nicky’s limp body.
But Nicky is already slipping away into dreams of warm brown eyes, dark curls windswept in the hot Malta sun and bright, happy laughter.
~~~
Nicky wakes. He blinks open his eyes. It’s dark, the lighting dimmed down, and there is a body wrapped around his, a hand splayed possessively over his stomach. He tries to shift, and feels his body respond. He is no longer burning from the inside out.
The Alpha behind him is not his mate. His breathing is slow and steady, his heartbeat against Nicky’s back wrong and unfamiliar. The Alpha has fallen asleep, exhausted from fucking Nicky’s helpless, unconscious body, and left the drugs to fade from Nicky’s bloodstream in his slumber.
He has made a fatal mistake.
Although Nicky feels weaker than a newborn lamb he’s up in a flash, vision weaving in and out as he forces his body into action. He straddles the Alpha’s body, growling down at him.
The Alpha awakens with a jolt. He stares up at Nicky, expression half-awake and confused.
“I hope God does not forgive you,” Nicky says, voice a broken, whispering croak. He leans down and rips the Alpha’s throat out with his teeth.
The Alpha gurgles as he attempts to scream, throwing Nicky off with panicked limbs. Nicky falls back to the mattress, watching with cold eyes as the Alpha tumbles off the side of the bed, hands desperately trying to stymy the gushing stream of blood spurting from his neck. He somehow gets to his feet, stumbling for the door, crimson hand reaching for the keypad. His palm leaves a red smear across the wall as he collapses to his knees, choking, and then flops sideways onto the floor. He convulses once, and then is still. Red pools around his stagnant body, viscous and almost black in the dim light.
Nicky spits the foul blood from his mouth. He tries to get off the bed, but the chain attached to his collar doesn’t allow him to. Gritting his teeth, he tugs at it, his vision spotting as he yanks with all his strength. It doesn’t break.
He feels dizzy. The metallic scent of blood is heavy in the air, along with cum and his own slick and despair, and it makes him want to heave. He whimpers as he pulls desperately at the chain restraining him to the bed in which he has been ravaged in, breath beginning to hasten. His vision sways, and then darkens.
This time, he doesn’t dream of Malta. He is plagued by a burning city lost centuries ago, screams choking the smoke filled air, blood crusting under his fingernails, in his hair, slick over his face as it drips into his mouth. It runs like water in the streets, bodies of the old and young, of Alphas and omegas and betas alike tossed aside like rag dolls, limbs hacked from bodies and heads caved in with emptily gazing eyes, faces locked in their last moments of terror. He weeps on his knees amidst the red horror for innocence lost, and the folly of man, for daring to conquer something as precious as another life in the name of God.
~~~
Every day is torture to Joe. Every day that the space at his side remains empty, a gaping hole in the middle of his life, his heart breaks a little more.
Nile works herself to the bone trying to find Nicky, wracked with guilt over killing Merrick before they could get Nicky’s whereabouts out of him. Booker, as well, hardly sleeps or eats, spending all his time on his laptop, scouring the web for any trace of the only omega in their family. But Joe does not tell him to rest like he does Nile; the reason Nicky is gone is because of him. Booker can rot alive for all he cares at the moment. Maybe one day Joe will find it within himself to forgive, but that will only happen when he has his mate who’s heart overflows with kindness back in his arms, safe and alive and back home where he belongs.
Andy seems like the only one mostly still functioning. Joe knows it is because she is their leader, and they need her to be level headed, but Joe knows that Nicky’s absence weighs on her as heavily as everyone else. She loves Nicky like a younger brother. Joe can see the pain in her eyes. He wishes he was able to push past his own to comfort her, but his grief and anger is all consuming. The only reason he does not lose himself to an Alpha’s madness of a lost mate is the knowledge that Nicky is out there, and Joe must find him.
There had been dozens of deliveries in trucks that Merrick could have smuggled Nicky out of from the tower over the days that Joe had been kept in the lab by himself, and then dozens of ships and planes that he could have been on from there. They’ve meticulously tracked all of them down, and so far have had no luck. It is like Nicky has vanished into thin air.
A break comes two weeks after Joe had left Merrick’s tower without his mate at his side.
“Russia,” Booker declares, and Joe looks up from staring down at his bowl of gone cold instant noodles, mostly their only source of sustenance as none of them had the heart to replace Nicky’s designated role of cook. “Just outside of St. Petersburg,” the Alpha says from the doorway, the bags underneath his eyes dark like soot, but his gaze is alive and hopeful. “He’s there. I found him.”
Joe doesn’t ask for an explanation. Neither does Andy, who stands up from the table, already reaching for her labrys. Joe flings himself into action, his heart pounding in his chest with vigour he hasn’t felt since Nicky had disappeared.
They leave their safe house within the next five minutes, hastily packed, and leave the front door ajar behind them in their haste.
~~~
For the people asking, I'll be uploading this to ao3 when it's finished. :)
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timeasmymeasure
FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 3/?
Date: 2020-10-24 10:09 am (UTC)Sorry for the leave of absence. Life got in the way. I'm back now, if anyone is still reading this lol.
~~~
Nicky’s ordeal lasts for days. At some point Nicky is unchained, but Nicky doesn’t have any strength or mental capacity left to fight. He’s bred for what seems like eternity, thighs held splayed open as he’s rutted into, greedy hands groping at his ass, his chest, while dirty, degrading words are growled into his ear. His life turns into a haze of pain and unwanted pleasure and heat and suffocating Alpha-scent that smells so wrong. All he wants is his mate. All he wants is his mate’s calm, desert storm scent, his arms around him and his voice in his ear. The need is so strong that Nicky manages to slip into a daydream, or possibly a hallucination, that takes him away from the horrors happening to his body.
He goes to Malta. In moments, he’s almost happy, sharing lingering kisses with his mate, being fed tangerines from lean artist’s fingers, dozing while tangled in white, sweet scenting sheets with a strong, loving body curled around him. He can almost smell the sea, feel the wind over his naked body, hear the waves breaking upon the shore and his mate’s voice whispering poetry into his ear, until he’s ripped out of his memories by cruel, sharp fangs tearing into the side of his neck.
The only relief he feels is the knowledge that if he’s being bitten again, the mark has not taken. He is still his mate’s. He is still Joe’s, still Yusuf’s. He is not giving into the final betrayal that his body is capable of.
It is the only thing that keeps him sane.
~~~
He must have passed out at some point, for he is awake now. Nicky manages to weakly twitch, surprised that he is lucid. Everything hurts. His entire body pulses with a deep, exhausted hot ache, and he can’t even lift his eyelids. Between his legs feels loose and wet and used, his neck raw even though it must have healed. His body gives a valiant attempt at gagging at the feeling, but he does not even have the strength left for that.
“Why is it not taking?” The angry Russian is rough against his ears. Nicky stays still, which isn’t a hardship, as he doesn’t think he could move even if he wanted to.
A new voice. Reedy, and terrified. “It must be something to do with his immortality, otherwise I have no other explanation,” another man says. A beta, judging by his scent that Nicky somehow manages to get a whiff of through the nauseating smell of his own slick and the Alpha-scent of the man who had raped him.
“It’s been days,” the Alpha growls. “I’ve bitten him more times than I can count. I’m tired of the taste of blood. Why the fuck is he not mine?!” The Alpha roars the last word, and Nicky can practically hear the beta trembling.
“It may take time,” the beta tries, “his physiology is different, he won’t respond like a normal omega.”
“He’s been in heat all this time. What are you giving me that isn’t working, you useless sack of shit.”
The beta titters. “Sir, I’ve been giving you the strongest heat-inducing and bond-inducing drugs that aren’t even available on the market. There’s nothing else that I can do.”
The Alpha roars again. There’s a crash, and the sound of fleeing footsteps, a door slamming shut. The bed dips next to Nicky, and Nicky’s limp body is dragged up in violent hands.
“Wake up,” the Alpha snarls, and shakes Nicky carelessly. Nicky’s head rolls on his neck. He’s slapped, but the flare of pain is nothing compared to the pain that has settled into his bones, his soul. “Tell me why this isn’t working! I’ve knotted you for fucking days and bitten you until you should’ve bled out and died on my cock, but you still refuse to be mine!”
If Nicky could smile, he would. Maybe his lips manage to twitch, because he’s hit across the cheek viciously with a closed fist, and then shoved face first into the sweat soaked sheets. The Alpha climbs up behind him and snarls as he mounts Nicky, cock shoved deep into Nicky’s ravaged body, rutting into him impatiently. “Submit,” he growls as his thrusts jolt Nicky’s limp body.
But Nicky is already slipping away into dreams of warm brown eyes, dark curls windswept in the hot Malta sun and bright, happy laughter.
~~~
Nicky wakes. He blinks open his eyes. It’s dark, the lighting dimmed down, and there is a body wrapped around his, a hand splayed possessively over his stomach. He tries to shift, and feels his body respond. He is no longer burning from the inside out.
The Alpha behind him is not his mate. His breathing is slow and steady, his heartbeat against Nicky’s back wrong and unfamiliar. The Alpha has fallen asleep, exhausted from fucking Nicky’s helpless, unconscious body, and left the drugs to fade from Nicky’s bloodstream in his slumber.
He has made a fatal mistake.
Although Nicky feels weaker than a newborn lamb he’s up in a flash, vision weaving in and out as he forces his body into action. He straddles the Alpha’s body, growling down at him.
The Alpha awakens with a jolt. He stares up at Nicky, expression half-awake and confused.
“I hope God does not forgive you,” Nicky says, voice a broken, whispering croak. He leans down and rips the Alpha’s throat out with his teeth.
The Alpha gurgles as he attempts to scream, throwing Nicky off with panicked limbs. Nicky falls back to the mattress, watching with cold eyes as the Alpha tumbles off the side of the bed, hands desperately trying to stymy the gushing stream of blood spurting from his neck. He somehow gets to his feet, stumbling for the door, crimson hand reaching for the keypad. His palm leaves a red smear across the wall as he collapses to his knees, choking, and then flops sideways onto the floor. He convulses once, and then is still. Red pools around his stagnant body, viscous and almost black in the dim light.
Nicky spits the foul blood from his mouth. He tries to get off the bed, but the chain attached to his collar doesn’t allow him to. Gritting his teeth, he tugs at it, his vision spotting as he yanks with all his strength. It doesn’t break.
He feels dizzy. The metallic scent of blood is heavy in the air, along with cum and his own slick and despair, and it makes him want to heave. He whimpers as he pulls desperately at the chain restraining him to the bed in which he has been ravaged in, breath beginning to hasten. His vision sways, and then darkens.
This time, he doesn’t dream of Malta. He is plagued by a burning city lost centuries ago, screams choking the smoke filled air, blood crusting under his fingernails, in his hair, slick over his face as it drips into his mouth. It runs like water in the streets, bodies of the old and young, of Alphas and omegas and betas alike tossed aside like rag dolls, limbs hacked from bodies and heads caved in with emptily gazing eyes, faces locked in their last moments of terror. He weeps on his knees amidst the red horror for innocence lost, and the folly of man, for daring to conquer something as precious as another life in the name of God.
~~~
Every day is torture to Joe. Every day that the space at his side remains empty, a gaping hole in the middle of his life, his heart breaks a little more.
Nile works herself to the bone trying to find Nicky, wracked with guilt over killing Merrick before they could get Nicky’s whereabouts out of him. Booker, as well, hardly sleeps or eats, spending all his time on his laptop, scouring the web for any trace of the only omega in their family. But Joe does not tell him to rest like he does Nile; the reason Nicky is gone is because of him. Booker can rot alive for all he cares at the moment. Maybe one day Joe will find it within himself to forgive, but that will only happen when he has his mate who’s heart overflows with kindness back in his arms, safe and alive and back home where he belongs.
Andy seems like the only one mostly still functioning. Joe knows it is because she is their leader, and they need her to be level headed, but Joe knows that Nicky’s absence weighs on her as heavily as everyone else. She loves Nicky like a younger brother. Joe can see the pain in her eyes. He wishes he was able to push past his own to comfort her, but his grief and anger is all consuming. The only reason he does not lose himself to an Alpha’s madness of a lost mate is the knowledge that Nicky is out there, and Joe must find him.
There had been dozens of deliveries in trucks that Merrick could have smuggled Nicky out of from the tower over the days that Joe had been kept in the lab by himself, and then dozens of ships and planes that he could have been on from there. They’ve meticulously tracked all of them down, and so far have had no luck. It is like Nicky has vanished into thin air.
A break comes two weeks after Joe had left Merrick’s tower without his mate at his side.
“Russia,” Booker declares, and Joe looks up from staring down at his bowl of gone cold instant noodles, mostly their only source of sustenance as none of them had the heart to replace Nicky’s designated role of cook. “Just outside of St. Petersburg,” the Alpha says from the doorway, the bags underneath his eyes dark like soot, but his gaze is alive and hopeful. “He’s there. I found him.”
Joe doesn’t ask for an explanation. Neither does Andy, who stands up from the table, already reaching for her labrys. Joe flings himself into action, his heart pounding in his chest with vigour he hasn’t felt since Nicky had disappeared.
They leave their safe house within the next five minutes, hastily packed, and leave the front door ajar behind them in their haste.
~~~
For the people asking, I'll be uploading this to ao3 when it's finished. :)