theoldguardkinkmeme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theoldguardkinkmeme) wrote2020-07-22 10:07 am
theoldguardkinkmeme) wrote2020-07-22 10:07 am
Fills Post
This Fills Post is now closed to new fills. New fills should go in Fills Post #2.
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to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 1/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-10 12:23 am (UTC)(link)Joe/Nicky are a bonded alpha/omega pair (alpha!Joe and omega!Nicky)
Back when they bonded, male omegas weren't common, but they weren't rare, either, so no one thought anything of Joe and Nicky being together and of Nicky being a male omega.
Jump to today, and male omegas are *rare*. It not unheard of for people to go their entire lives without ever meeting one. It means that, for some alphas, having a male omega is seen as the ultimate status symbol.
Nicky got fed up of how people treated him as a male omega, so started suppressing, and now people think he's a beta.
When they're in Merrick's lab, his suppressants wear off, and Merrick realises that Nicky is an omega.
Merrick thinks about keeping Nicky for himself, because he wants the status of walking into parties with a male omega on his arm, but decides that he'd rather have the huge amount of money he can get from selling Nicky to the highest bidder.
When Nile comes for the team, she gets the rest of them out, but Nicky's already been sold and is on his way to whoever bought him.
Cue the team trying to track down who has him, while the alpha that bought him is trying to break Nicky down into being the perfect, docile omega.
~~~
Nicky has an implant in his arm. Slipped skilfully between layers of epidermis, so that his body does not reject it as a foreign body causing injury, it steadily releases hormones into his bloodstream. It is only in the last decade or so that this kind of medical technology has been available to him; before, if he had wanted to pass as anything other than omega, it had been him popping pills every hour or so, or spraying scent cancelling liquids that itched at his skin and irritated Joe’s nose. Before that, herbs with terrible side effects, and even worse taste and smells. So for all the inconveniences of modern technology, he’s glad for this innovation.
It’s not that he is ashamed of his secondary gender, or that he truly wants to be a beta. Male omegas had been a dime a dozen when he had been born, now, people can go a lifetime without ever meeting one. He had grown tired of the stares, and of the aggressive Alphas challenging Joe for a chance at a novelty. Now, he happily passes as a beta, and only has the mild inconvenience of changing out his implant every few months. And every now and then, between missions, he and Joe head back to Malta, to their little house by the ocean, and he takes the implant out.
~~~
And then, the ambush in their safehouse in France happens. Nicky and Joe are taken together, as they always are, while Booker is left in pieces. They don’t make it easy for their captors; they show the childish men in the back van they are not to be taken lightly even with their wrists bound, and in the jet they kill two more men and break another’s arm before their captors learn and bind them more securely. But even then they do not worry; they are confident that Booker and Andy and Nile will find them, or they will break themselves out. They always have. They can endure the torture; they have before. All they need to do is wait, wait for rescue, or for the right moment. In the meantime, they have each other, and that’s all they’ve ever needed.
~~~
It’s when Nicky is wheeled out of the lab without Joe that they begin to worry. Nicky cranes his neck looking backwards at his mate as Joe fights against his restraints, sharp white fangs bared as he asks and then yells and then roars to be told where they are taking Nicky.
“I will be fine,” Nicky calls out, in Genoese. “Maybe they are taking me to a tea party.”
Joe croaks a laugh, calmed immediately by Nicky’s words, and his beautiful dark eyes lock with Nicky’s.
“I will be waiting,” he replies in the same language, his accent flawless, “tell me how the tea is when you return, my heart.”
And then, their eyeline to each other is broken, and Nicky lets his chin fall and he sighs, staring up at the concrete ceiling as he’s wheeled away. He hopes whatever they are taking him away for won’t be long.
~~~
Dr Kozak taps her pen idly against the desk as she watches the scan begin to take shape on the computer screen in front of her. The machine hums as it passes slowly over the prone body strapped to the gurney beside her. So far, from all her tissue samples, it looks like these immortals are as human as the rest of them. A male Alpha and a male beta, bonded, the tie physically represented by the matching bite marks on their necks. She ponders how if every wound on their bodies heals instantaneously, the scars of their mating marks have persevered. She will find out.
The machine does one last sweep of the beta. She clicks through the completed scans, and pauses. The first anomaly she sees is what looks like a small metal implant in the beta’s left arm, near his bicep. Being an omega herself, and a doctor, she immediately realises what it is. Quickly, she scrolls through the scans to images of his middle section, hardly believing it, and drops her pen when she finds what she’s been looking for.
She picks up the phone on the desk and begins to dial a number.
“Please,” a soft, accented voice prevents her from pressing a number. She looks up to see grey-blue eyes staring at her imploringly. “Please,” Nicky says again, “you do not need to tell him.”
She ruthlessly squashes the twinge of empathy down into dust. “He’ll find out eventually,” she says. And then he will be furious with me.
She dials the last number.
~~~
“Are you sure?” Merrick asks, standing beside where Nicky is still strapped under the scanner.
“Completely,” Dr Kozak says, swivelling the computer screen to show him. “This here, is a womb.” She circles the organ with her mouse, and Merrick squints at it.
“He doesn’t smell like one,” Merrick says.
“He has an implant,” she explains, clicking through to the other scan that shows his left arm. “Usually implants like this are for birth control, but it looks like this one has been altered specifically to make him smell like a beta. If we remove it, his scent should begin to change within the hour.”
Merrick takes his eyes off the screen to look at Nicky. Nicky stares back impassively, nothing showing on his face.
“Do it,” Merrick commands. Dr Kozak steps up to unlock the wheels on Nicky’s gurney, but he stops her, his eyes still on Nicky’s face. “No. Do it here. I want to know as soon as possible.”
She stops, stifles a sigh, and then nods.
Nicky’s expression doesn’t change as she cuts into his flesh with a scalpel, but he’s staring up at the ceiling now, and not meeting Merrick’s eyes. The greed on the young Alpha’s face disgusts him, and is more disquieting than the sharp metal piercing his arm and then the tweezers that dig into him before the wound can heal.
It doesn’t even take half an hour. Nicky closes his eyes in resignation as his natural omega scent blooms sweet and honey-like in the cold, artificially lit room, and Merrick takes a deep, slow breath, and smiles.
~~~
An hour passes. And then two. Joe isn’t an impatient man, not even before his immortality, but he begins to tap his fingernails at the leather below him. He tries not to think about what they are doing to his Nicolo, about what tests they could be running that could not be done in the lab here. Thinks about his mate, enduring needles and scalpels and bone-drills alone, and clenches his teeth together. He knows Nicky is strong, so strong, and can weather just about anything, and is beyond capable of taking care of himself, but he knows that Nicky still feels pain even if he cannot really die, and he cannot stop himself from worrying. He is Nicky’s Alpha after all, and although he has lived almost a millenia, the instinct of needing to protect his mate still runs deep.
It is another hour before Dr Kozak returns, her face drawn and lips pressed tightly together. She is followed by her normal pack of overly steroided guards, but there is no Nicky.
“Where is my mate?” Joe demands as Dr Kozak places her tablet down on the desks beside him. “Where is he? What have you done to—”
“Merrick has found a ‘better’ use for him,” is all Dr Kozak says. She refuses to look at him.
A prickle of unease nips at the back of Joe’s neck. “What do you mean?” He growls.
She presses her lips together as she organises samples of his and Nicky’s flesh. “We needed more funding for our research,” she says at last. “I have all of the samples I need, and with you, I can replace them if need be.” She sounds like she’s trying to convince herself.
“What do you mean,” Joe growls, his eyes beginning to flash red. His blood is both running hot and cold; rage, and dread.
Dr Kozak finishes fiddling with her jars and picks up the tray. She turns her back on him, and ignores his roar of rage as she leaves the lab.
When she shows no sign of coming back, he collapses back against the chair he’s bound to, still straining against the restraints. Nicolo, he thinks to himself, tears in his eyes, oh Nicolo, my love.
~~~
Booker and Andy are brought in, and Joe learns of Booker's betrayal and Andy’s new mortality. When Nile comes to rescue them, it’s only the thought of finding his mate that stops him from bashing Booker’s face in with his bare fists. Retribution can come later; first, he must find Nicky.
The fastest way to that is to find Merrick.
~~~
“I’m sorry,” Nile gasps as she’s pulled from the wreckage of the car that she and Merrick had plummeted into. Her broken bones are still reaglinning as she collapses against Joe’s side. “I’m sorry, I tried—but he was going to kill Andy and I couldn’t—”
Joe cups her bloodied face for a second. Brave, lovely Nile, so worried about someone else’s mate even though they have not known each other hardly a week. He cannot blame her. “I know,” he says. “It’s okay. We will find him.”
Even with his words of reassurance she wears her guilt like a weight for her to bear alone. And every day that they do not find Nicky, it seems to grow, and even though she puts on a brave face and squares her shoulders, Joe can feel it. It almost matches his own; he knows that Nicky disappearing is not his fault, but he feels a deepening pit of guilt in his stomach as they search fruitlessly. He could not protect his mate, and it haunts him every waking second.
~~~
Nicky wakes to a hand in his hair. Without opening his eyes he knows that it is not Joe’s. From centuries together he can pick his mate out of a crowd just from the sound of his footsteps, the cadence of his breath, the way his form moves next to Nicky, his steady body heat always swaying closer. The hand in his hair is not his mate’s.
Nicky opens his eyes and sees a man sitting next to him on the bed. His head feels groggy, heavy with fading sedatives, and as he shifts minutely, he can feel the shackles around his wrists and ankles and neck.
“Good morning, Nicolai,” the man says in Russian. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Nicky replies in the same language, his voice rough. He shifts again, testing his restraints. They’re tight, and even though they are lined with what feels like velvet, they’re strong. He won’t be able to break out of these, not even if he dislocates his thumbs. When he looks up he sees his chains are joined to a sturdy metal headboard, and when he looks down his feet are chained to a metal bar. He won’t be able to break those either.
The man huffs a laugh. A finger trails down Nicky’s cheek to rest under his chin. “There’s no use fighting,” the man says. Nicky looks at him dispassionately. He smells like an Alpha, scent heavy and overpowering, like whiskey and cigar smoke. It is nothing compared to Joe’s scent; quiet, clear desert nights and warm golden sand, the smell of fresh oasis water on the air and a storm on the horizon. The scent of love, passion and devotion.
Nicky doesn’t reply to the man. He watches silently, observing. Rich clothes, a ridiculous Rolex studded with diamonds on his wrist. Fashionably stubbled, his blond hair perfectly coiffed. Broad shoulders and chest, tall and good looking. Nicky has no idea who he is, but the glint of greed in his blue eyes is so familiar as he looks over Nicky’s body. Nicky has no shame in his bared body (how could he, after every part has been praised by Joe over and over and over again), but he’s glad that he’s still clothed. He wonders how long that will last.
His gaze moves on to the room. Small, but lavishly furnished. No windows, and two doors, one that opens to what looks like a bathroom, the other closed and heavily fortified. A keypad is in the wall next to it, sleek and high-tech.
“You are beautiful,” the man says, fingers dancing across Nicky’s jaw. “You will make me a very happy Alpha, envied by everyone when they see you on my arm.”
Nicky laughs gently. “The only thing I will be doing with your arm is breaking it.”
If anything, the man’s smile grows wider. “Good. You have fire. Nothing pleases me more than breaking a strong omega to my will.”
Nicky doesn’t say anything to that. He waits as the man’s fingers move up over his chin to touch his lower lip, and then he strikes. He snaps forward with his teeth, biting deep into the man’s finger.
The Alpha roars with rage, ripping his hand free.
Nicky spits blood and flesh to the side, making a face at the taste, and then swallows a cry of pain as he’s hit across the face with a closed fist. The blow is powerful; he feels his cheekbone fracture, and his skin splits under a metal ring.
“You little bitch,” the man snarls, holding his bleeding hand to his chest. Red stains over the pristine white shirt he’s wearing. His compose is completely lost to rage.
Nicky stays silent, only watching the man stride for the door. He punches numbers into the keypad, his body blocking Nicky’s view, and then disappears through the opened door. It slams shut behind him, leaving Nicky to silence, his cheekbone quietly healing over. Nicky rests his head back against the silk sheets covering the bed, and closes his eyes.
Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 1/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-10 03:34 am (UTC)(link)Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 1/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-10 04:43 am (UTC)(link)Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 1/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-10 05:27 am (UTC)(link)Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 1/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-10 09:42 am (UTC)(link)FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-10 10:53 am (UTC)(link)~~~
Merrick, at first, had wanted to keep Nicky for himself. Nicky could practically see the inner struggle he had, various emotions playing out over his face as he thought through different scenarios. He’d lain a sweaty hand over Nicky’s ankle, between his sock and cuff of his pants, and gripped tight. Nicky could only stare impassively back, waiting for the verdict.
Merrick came to a decision within minutes. Almost regretfully, he skimmed a touch up over Nicky’s knee to his thigh, making Nicky twitch in his restraints, fighting the urge to lash out. Only Joe could touch him like that. Only Joe.
“You have all the samples you need?” Merrick had asked, not looking away from Nicky’s face. He’d licked his lips.
Dr Kozak had paused, before agreeing.
“Good. I have a call I need to make.” And with that, Merrick had squeezed Nicky’s thigh, and left.
Nicky had made eye contact with Dr Kozak before she’d turned away. There had been pity, for a second, but then her gaze had closed off, and her hands were steady as she typed on her keyboard.
~~~
Nicky had been sedated, after that, a needle in his wrist steadily pumping tranquiliser into his bloodstream so he wouldn’t wake. He has no way of knowing how long he’d been under. It could’ve been hours, or days, or even weeks. He could’ve died of dehydration if they hadn’t dripped him liquid him intravenously and he would’ve revived, and he never would’ve known. He hopes it’s only been hours, or days. Weeks would mean that the chances of the team finding him are low. They would’ve found him by now if there had been any trace of him.
There’s no way to tell what day it is, or even what time of day it is. Nicky’s hungry, and thirsty, but he’s starved to death before, and he’s died of dehydration even more. He doesn’t like it, but he can endure the sharp stomach pains and the painfully dry mouth if he has to. He tests his bonds further, even though he’s pretty sure what the outcome is going to be—he’s proven right when they show no signs of strain as he pulls on them. The chains are too tight for him to get much leverage anyway, with only an inch or two of give, his legs spread not uncomfortably wide and arms to either side. The only chain that isn’t short is the one connected to what feels like a thin collar, but he can’t do much with that. With nothing to do, he just rests, and tries to keep his mind off what may follow if no rescue comes.
The door opening jolts him out of his almost meditative state he’s fallen into, and he stares up at the ceiling as the scent of whiskey and pungent cigar smoke winds in his nostrils.
This time, the Alpha does not gently run his fingers through his hair, but grabs a fistful of it and jerks Nicky’s head back. “So what Merrick told me is true,” he murmurs, eyes tracing over Nicky’s unharmed cheekbone. He smiles, something sick, and lustful. Nicky’s stomach turns, but his face betrays nothing of what he’s feeling.
The Alpha sits next to Nicky, the bed dipping underneath him. He’s changed his shirt, and his right hand has a heavily bandaged index finger. “Papercut?” Nicky asks sweetly, and gets backhanded viciously for his snark.
The Alpha sighs. “Your last Alpha was far too lenient with you,” he says, reaching out for Nicky’s mating bite on his neck. Every hair on Nicky’s body stands up on end and he jerks away as far as he can, teeth bared, but he cannot get very far. “But don’t worry, Koyla, I will make you realise your full potential.”
Nicky cannot help the whine that escapes his throat as the Alpha touches his mating mark, and he thrashes in his bonds, feeling sick to his core. No-one else but your mate is to touch you there. It’s such a violation that Nicky might actually vomit.
“Deep,” the Alpha says like he’s commenting on the weather while Nicky writhes in disgust. “No matter. Nothing cannot be overcome with some hard work and perseverance,” he says, pressing his nails into the mark and making Nicky’s back bow, a horrified cry falling from his lips. “And a little interference,” the Alpha continues happily. He lets his hand fall and Nicky collapses back onto the mattress.
“Others have tried before,” Nicky says, gasping for breath. “They regretted it. Do you think you could do what many have failed to do before you? What me and my Alpha has is centuries deep, it cannot just be overcome by some selfish desire to rule another’s body.”
The Alpha smiles, pulling a slim case from his pocket. He snaps it open and pulls out a syringe, tapping the glass delicately with a finger to erase any bubbles in the light blue liquid. “Yes it can,” he says simply, “And once Merrick unlocks the secret in you and your friend’s bodies, we will have an eternity together, little Kolya.”
Nicky eyes the syringe suspiciously, but cannot pull away from it anymore that he had pulled away from the Alpha’s touch on his bond mark. It plunges into his neck and he feels the liquid burning in his bloodstream, and he grits his teeth against it, hoping that the team would find him soon.
~~~
The Alpha stays, humming Russian lullabies as whatever he has injected into Nicky begins to take effect. At first it is only a slight change in Nicky’s body temperature, but then suddenly it is searing heat, painful tightness in his stomach and an unbearable emptiness, a need to be held down and filled, both by knot and fangs. Nicky sweats through it, refusing to whimper or whine, biting through his lower lip until it bleeds down over his chin.
Tsking, the Alpha pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes at it. Nicky makes another attempt to bite, but the heat inducing drug has weakened his normally sharp reflexes, and the Alpha pulls away before he can sink his teeth into his flesh.
“Still so feisty,” he chuckles, and Nicky shuts his eyes tight, muffling a cry as a cramp ravages his stomach. He’s endured plenty of heats before, the vast majority of them with Joe, and his mate has always made them bearable, even enjoyable. They’re never like this—dry, acrid heat, stabbing daggers to his insides and uncomfortable, painful arousal that leaves him wanting to just slit his own throat and die. It feels wrong, made even worse by the strange Alpha observing him as Nicky clenches against the slick that threatens to leak from him. Just the fact that he’s hard between his legs makes him want to scream.
“You smell exquisite,” the Alpha says, taking a deep, slow breath. His pupils blow out and Nicky can see his fangs glinting behind his lips. The only reason Nicky’s artificial heat hasn’t put him into rut is the fact that Nicky is mated, and his heat scent is too infused with Joe’s to induce one in any other Alpha than his mate. “But you will smell even better when you scent of me.”
Nicky just turns his face away, gritting his teeth against another cramp.
“Hm,” the Alpha says. “You are a strong one. A wonder if it is just because you are male, or just because you are particularly stubborn.”
It’s because you disgust me, Nicky wants to say, but he’s afraid if he opens his mouth, it will be whimpers that spill forth.
“Perhaps you just need some time alone to think,” the Alpha says, patting his shoulder. “I understand. This is a bit of a change for you, isn’t it? Having an Alpha who will keep you under control. I’ll just give you something to tide you over to clear your thoughts, Koyla, be a good omega now.” Nicky’s entire body tenses as another needle is pushed into his neck, and this time it doesn’t take minutes for the heat to ravage his body. Within seconds he cannot stop the desperate keen that escapes his mouth, and slick spills from between his legs, sweet and cloying.
The touch to his hip makes him jolt in his bonds, and he snarls at the strange Alpha who dares touch him, sweat soaked hair in his eyes. The Alpha only chuckles at him and gives him one last pat. “Till the morrow, Nicholai. We will see what you think of me then.”
~~~
Nicky burns with heat. He alternates from trying to swallow down cries of pain and desperation, to trying to hump the air, his cock so hard it hurts, so much slick dripping from him that it coats the back of his thighs and soaks into the sheets below him. His mind threatens to be overcome, but he fights the heat-fog tooth and nail, grinding his teeth together so hard they creak, his every thought clinging to Joe, to Yusuf. His bond to his mate is centuries deep, he tells himself—Yusuf is not only his other half but a part of him, in his blood and flesh and bone, what they have is true and eternal, and cannot be broken by some chemical shot into Nicky’s veins. He will not beg for another Alpha’s knot, even if it kills him more times than he can count. He won’t desecrate their bond like that.
The Alpha comes back every now and then, and every time Nicky turns away from him, his scent grows sharper with impatience, and he injects Nicky with more and more heat inducing drugs. It could be hours or days or weeks that Nicky fights against the artificial heat, so strong that he thinks he does die of dehydration only to come right back into the throes of it. His vision blurs and he thinks he vomits, and a few times he hallucinates strange apparitions, but he doesn’t give in.
“How about today, my pet?” The Alpha asks, and Nicky stares up at him through blurry eyes. His body has been torn apart from the devastating heat that’s been forced upon him, and everything aches down to his marrow. His lower half feels almost numb, and he just wants to die. He’s so addled that he can hardly understand the words spoken by the Alpha, but just the same, he turns his face away.
But this time, it seems like he has finally broken the Alpha’s patience. The man snarls, and grabs his chin in his hand, jerking Nicky’s flushed and sweaty face around. “You will say yes to me,” he growls, eyes flashing red.
Nicky spits in his face.
The Alpha pulls back, his eyes closed. He wipes at his cheek, fist trembling with anger, and lowers his hand. “Fine,” he says, “you want to do this the hard way, then by all means, we will do this the hard way.”
He climbs on top of Nicky, and even though Nicky feels like he has no strength in his body, wrung out and left to dry, he manages to buck at the weight over his thighs. The Alpha hits him across the face and he sees stars, unable to fight as his sweat soaked shirt is ripped from him. Greedy, rough hands run down his chest and trembling stomach, and Nicky whines, high and pleading. He wants his mate. He wants Yusuf’s cool, gentle hands, his loving words and beautiful brown eyes, and not the brute on top of him.
His pants and underwear are ripped from his legs, and Nicky arches, his eyes unseeing as the Alpha grabs at his cock and squeezes. Even the painful touch is pleasurable, and he lets out his first dry sob, the sound tearing from his throat. “No.”
“Yes,” the Alpha hisses, settling between Nicky’s thighs. Nicky is exhausted, completely drained from hunger and thirst and heat, but he still manages to struggle, small, helpless wriggles as his legs are spread as far as the chains will allow, and his thighs hooked over the Alpha’s. Fingers dig into his left hip, slipping through his sweat, as the Alpha fumbles with his belt and fly.
“No,” Nicky says again, fists tugging weakly at the shackles around his wrists. “No.”
“You’re so wet for me, Koyla,” the Alpha sneers. “You say no but your body says yes. Let me catch your brain up with your hole.”
Nicky’s sob is choked off as he’s penetrated roughly. It doesn’t hurt physically—he’s too loose and open and wet from the dizzying amount of drugs he’s been pumped full of, but he feels something inside him crack even as his body gives what feels like a groan of release at being filled. He gags and sobs as he feels the drag of the Alpha’s cock against his insides, pulling out so he can slam back in.
Nicky’s shoved up the sheets inches with the force of the thrust, his ankles aching against the pull of the metal restraints. Rough hands grip his waist, digging in bruises as the Alpha leans over him, his eyes red and crazed as he fucks Nicky ruthlessly, the sounds of Nicky’s keening sobs and the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the small room.
The worst thing is not the Alpha’s cock violating him, or his greedy gaze as he drinks in Nicky’s expression, or even the pain of the artificial heat wrecking his body. It’s the pleasure that sparks up Nicky's spine with every awful thrust, every movement sending white hot fire into his belly and cock, making him leak slick everywhere. It’s the betrayal of his own body that makes Nicky wail to the ceiling, his eyes blurred with tears.
“You like that, baby, don’t you?” The Alpha is saying, grunting between words. “Finally feeling a real Alpha fuck you. Wait until you get my knot, and then you’ll really be screaming.” He grins with his fangs fully on display, the perfect coif of his blond hair ruined as it falls messily over his forehead.
“Stop,” Nicky pleads, tears streaking down the sides of his face. He’s slipped out of Russian into Genoese; he doesn’t know when, everything is a chaotic mess inside his head, pleasure and horror and pain and grief and betrayal all tumbled together in a cloud of heat-fog. The cock fucking him open begins to swell, a knot catching at his soaked rim, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight, feeling nauseated. But he can’t stop his body’s instinct to clench down around it, and it’s the last straw when the Alpha’s knot locks inside of him and the tightness in his stomach uncoils into an explosive orgasm.
He spurts cum up over his own stomach as the Alpha growls and grinds forward into him with the first stream of hot cum flooding him inside. Nicky’s eyes roll up into the back of his head, and he passes out to the feeling of fangs sliding into the side of his neck. Yusuf, is his last thought. Forgive me.
Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-10 11:34 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-10 12:12 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-10 01:21 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-10 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-11 12:11 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-11 05:59 pm (UTC)(link)What I'd love to see even more than the team rescuing Nicky (which I hope will happen, anyway!) is Nicky showing this asshole alpha exactly how bad a mistake it was to underestimate Nicky.
Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-11 06:57 pm (UTC)(link)Hope you'll write more soon! Loving it!
Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-13 06:07 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-18 03:03 am (UTC)(link)Are you going to post it on ao3?
Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-19 11:47 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-09-22 07:49 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-10-20 04:41 pm (UTC)(link)I would love to be able to bookmark this.
Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 2/?
(Anonymous) 2020-10-23 11:52 pm (UTC)(link)FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 3/?
(Anonymous) 2020-10-24 10:09 am (UTC)(link)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. :)
Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 3/?
(Anonymous) 2020-10-24 03:54 pm (UTC)(link)Love that the bond didn't take, and how you fuck with Nicky at your peril, even when he's drugged and flippin chained to a bed.
AHHHHHHHHH can't wait for his reunion with Joe!
Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 3/?
Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 3/?
(Anonymous) 2020-10-25 04:50 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 3/?
(Anonymous) 2020-10-29 02:06 pm (UTC)(link)And a great new chapter! Can't wait for more!
Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 3/?
(Anonymous) 2020-11-02 11:44 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 3/?
(Anonymous) - 2020-11-04 12:56 (UTC) - ExpandRe: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 3/?
(Anonymous) - 2020-11-24 19:12 (UTC) - ExpandRe: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 3/?
(Anonymous) - 2020-12-12 15:00 (UTC) - ExpandRe: FILL: Re: to pluck a flower: Joe/Nicky, A/B/O Verse, Dark 3/?
(Anonymous) - 2022-09-18 23:18 (UTC) - Expand