I Can Imagine (Omega)Sergeant Price Dealing With His Heat For The First Time And Not Knowing What To

Nikolai’s favorite thing on John is his thighs(and his ass, but that’s a story for another day).

He loves the plump firmness of them, loves to squeeze them or feel them squeeze him, and whenever John’s sitting somewhere or laying down, he’ll lay his head right in his lap and doze off or read a book.

…

Whenever he’s eating John out, he’ll purposely change paces to feel him clench around his head and grind against his face, barely having the luxury of hearing those deep, wanton noises the Captain makes as he approaches his inevitable climax.

If he suffocates, he’ll do it with dignity.. and spend on face.

Not that anyone cares, BUT:

My recent Pinterest collages!^^ I’m especially proud of the Grey one because of how full it looks. The red one is cute, but not as much as the latter.

Save me big beefy omega nik save me.............

He doesn't even have to be on blockers for everyone to assume he's an alpha - 🚁

Oh, that reminds me! I did begin writing the smut part of that other omega Nik thing. It's still rough as ya like but, eh. Snippet.

cw: omegaverse, heat, breeding kink.

Price yelped as Nik flipped him onto his back, latching onto the thick thighs that bracketed his hips as Nik mounted him. He was so fuckin’ hard, and Nik so wet and eager, that he only slid through Nik's folds twice before finding purchase. Price moaned as he sank back into the glorious heat of Nik's body, nails digging into the meat of his muscle. Nik looked bloody magnificent, with the sweat wetting his body hair against his skin, the unruly mop on his head curling wildly in the heat, dark eyes wide and hungry as they gazed down his full, heaving tits at his captured alpha. Price had never seen an omega like him, never wanted any other because no one else would compare.

Nik's head fell back as he rolled his hips, sliding Price over his sweet spot with a low moan of wanton bliss. He knew the angles that made him feel good, knew how to use an alpha for his pleasure, and Price was a willing tool for that purpose. He marvelled at the delicious vision of Nik's cunt rising and falling down the thick length of his shaft, gnawing at his lower lip, the visual and the physical pleasure melding together to make his entire body glow. He moaned, pushing his head back, lifting his arse a little to meet Nik's thrusts. “God, yer fuckin’ beautiful… gonna fuck you so full, Nik, yer gonna carry my pups. An’ they'll look… ahh, as beautiful as you. Just as fuckin’, mm, just as fuckin’ gorgeous.”

Even after two peaks, Nik was insatiable; wet, shaking with exhausted pleasure, but still desperately seeking. It wasn't just the pleasure he was after; his body feverish with heat, an ache at his core that could only be placated by an alpha’s knot. This was always the most desperate. The first of the heat after so long in denial. When they mated again later, Nik would be more relaxed, perhaps more willing to let Price take the lead, but now he was demanding, ravenous.

Slick pooled around the base of Price’s cock, dripping down his aching balls, high and tight from where he was so close to giving Nik what he wanted. Nik began to move faster, more urgently, his breathing ragged, growls and snarls becoming more frustrated as he chased and chased, the lurid, wet slap of skin as delicious as the desperate whimpers that occasionally broke through, almost distressed at how good it felt to be stretched so well. Price’s heels pushed into the mattress as Nik's slick cunt milked his cock greedily, his swelling knot sinking a little deeper each time Nik bounced against him.

“Fuck, Nik, fuck… fuck…” Price's toes curled, the pressure in his hips like a coiled spring. He didn't want it to end. Didn't want to give up the vision of Nik over him, wild, and dangerous, and feral with pleasure. He walked the tightrope, teetering on the brink, his legs, his arms, his chest throbbing with building pleasure fit to erupt out of his damn pores, Nik's name panting from spit-slick lips kissed and bitten red.

Nik fisted his hair and yanked his head back. Price was too gone to resist, exposing himself to the sharp teeth of his omega. If Nik ripped his throat out now, he would die a happy man. Instead, Nik licked a long strip from the hollow to the coarse line of his beard as he ground his hips down, barely lifting at all to keep Price buried deep inside him, his tip kissing against Nik's cervix. Nik shoved his face against the side of Price's head and growled, the bassy tremor of his voice burrowing right to Price’s primal core. “Give me my fucking pups, John.”

Price grabbed Nik's hips and pulled him down hard, his knot locking them together as his vision whited with the intensity of his orgasm. He could hear Nik’s ecstasy, a delirious “da, da, da” sobbed at the ceiling as he was filled with thick pulses of his chosen alpha’s seed, his powerful body trembling, completely slack with pleasure but for the tight grip of his cunt. Price could feel him squeezing, bearing down and relaxing instinctually through the heady euphoria of being bred.

When Nik curled down, Price lifted his knees, keeping Nik’s hips tilted at a comfortable angle to avoid tugging his knot prematurely. Nik sank gratefully against Price’s chest, licking lazily at the pheromone-soaked sweat on his neck as strong arms encircled his back. Nik was blissed out, floating on a cloud of afterglow, sated and content that he had chosen a worthy mate, and Price knew he would claim him before his heat was up.

Nik’s father always told him to never mix chemicals together because it could be deadly to himself and everyone around him, and God he wishes he’d listened to him instead of getting involved with a certain Captain from a certain TaskForce, because a small issue can lead into something big, and then they argue, and then they drink, and then they have drunken sex, and then they wake up with a headache in the morning.

“I hate you.” John grunts as Nik thrusts wildly in and out of him, brows furrowed and eyes hazy with lust and something dangerously close to spite. “Can never stop sleepin’ around.”

“Would not have to if you made time for me.” Nik responds with a bitter tone, which soon turns into a groan as he feels John clench around his length. “Ебать!”

“You prick. You know that I’ve tried, and when I do-“ He pauses with a whimper, feeling himself nearing his climax. “Y-You’re always-“

Suddenly, John’s body tenses up and he clamps his thighs around Nik as he comes, a filthy moan leaving his lips and strings of his release splattering on his stomach.

Nik doesn’t stop though, no. Instead, he goes harder and faster, overstimulating John’s senses to where he can only babble out “I hate you’s” and “Nik’s”, stars dancing in his vision as his prostate is assaulted over and over again.

“You hate me and yet you always end up here, in my bed beneath me.” Nik grunts as he stares down at John, shifting a bit to piston deeper into the Captain. “Why do you think that is, hm?”

John begins to get louder, eyes flying open and back arching as his body begins to tremble.

“If you hate me so much, why not get rid of me. Ignore me, ship me out to a different base, kill me.” Nik says, and John musters up the best frown he could and looks away. But Nik won’t have that and brackets the man’s head between his arms before leaning down so they could be eye to eye. “Look at me Johnathan. Look at me. Answer the question.”

And as their eyes met, Nik lets out a feral grunt before catching John’s lips in his own, tongues dancing and teeth clashing in the sloppiest way possible with Nik coming inside the Brit, who soon followed.

Soon, Nik pulls away and stares dead into John’s hazy blue eyes, a string of saliva still connecting the two. He then leans down and kisses his neck, working his way up to his ear and kissing the shell of it before grinning.

“Because you can’t.” The Russian says simply, and John can do nothing but let out a whimper as Nik flips him over on his knees and pushes his chest down to the mattress, face buried into the satin pillow case that laid on the bed as Nik began fucking him once more(and if they ended up cuddling right after and holding each other so tight that they could barely breathe, then sue them).

Mhm, so when I tell my lawyer about this little post, what will your defense be?

The idea of Price going from fine in the morning, nothing wrong, perfect day, to dead by the evening from something no one could prevent is so gut wrenchingly horrific, it’s one of my favourite ideas to do with NikPrice.

The confusion Nik would be left in, the whirlwind he would go through. The funeral, the planning of said funeral. Having the team find out, Laswell too. His family, if he even had any. Everything descending into chaos within Nik, the questions that need answering, that he will never receive.

Those blue eyes closing for the final time in front of him fearful and guilt-filled, it’s a memory forever burned into his mind, the paleness of them, forever haunting him.

No because like imagine Nik and Price just went out the day prior.

Everything was amazing, with no signs of what was to come. Lovers falling into bed together, hands familiarising themselves with sun kissed skin.

Then the next morning, John wakes up throwing up blood. Too much blood. It paints the sheets red, staining the mattress below as Nik panics. A peaceful morning, turned into chaos as John falls over from his feet, unresponsive as Nik shakes him. He didn't wake up when the ambulance came, didn't wake up as Nik sees him wheeled into the emergency room.

Hours later, and Nik stands there in the lobby, desperately hoping for whatever it was to pass, for the doctors to come out and declare that it was just a wound that John could get over. (He would be fine, right? I mean, after everything he's been through, the fact that he's a captain in the SAS accounts for something, right? Nik assures himself, calming the ringing in his ears)

Everything seems too loud, the clocks, the chattering, it buzzed like wordless drilling into his ears. He hears people around him, sobbing, laughing, he wants nothing more than for them to shut up. The doctors are chattering now, something about losing too much blood. He stands there, helpless as he sees people rushing in and out. Nik wants to go home, to lay down on silk sheets with John in his arms. He wants John to be safe, he wants to cry, and he wants to yell. He wants a lot of things right now.

But maybe God is nothing but an unfeeling mass, capable enough to give humans hopes and dreams before crushing them down with malevolence in his fist. As the ringing in his ears comes to a stop, he could focus on the two way mirror in front of him. It has been an hour? Two? The clock was still faintly ticking in the background, though he could only focus on John in front of him. Broken, helpless, hooked up to far too many machines. John seems...wrong... Too pale. Too green, too... Everything. He didn't come back right, what went wrong?

He stood there, hands trying to reach into the room, to hold John against him, to ensure himself that he'll recover. The words of the doctors slips into his mind as mindless chatter. His brain barely processing the few details it could make out of.

Total organ failure. Spurred on by his drinking and smoking habits. Hereditary. Barely an hour to live.

No, no, this can't be right. John was healthy just days ago. He should be fine, should have been fine. Why is he dying? Why is he laying there on the bed, rotting in front of his eyes??

It took him an hour to process the news, and an hour for the machines to fall into a synchronized rhythm, a flat tone as doctors whizzed past him into the room, trying to fight the grim reaper for whatever time he had left.

When he comes to, he was sitting in John's apartment. Three things came to mind as he slowly sits up:

1) John was gone

2) His throat was dry

3) John was fucking gone. Not away on a mission, or somewhere in a pub. But gone. Gone forever, to be buried 6 feet underneath the dirt, to be remembered for however long people around him lived until he became nothing but another headstone in the cementary. His body rotting somewhere.

He didn't leave the apartment for days afterwards, his voice barely keeping it together as he breaks the news to people John was close to, Laswell, the 141, Farah, some relatives, his old captain... The phonecalls seems endless, the sounds of people crying over the phone and condolences merges into one entity in his mind, shoving themselves down his throat until he couldn't breathe.

The pain still vast, endless. With so many things to do on the way, funerals to be planned, people to meet. It had barely been a week and he's already tired. Like a child left without any answers, it hurts in parts so deep in him, impossible to reach, impossible to carve out.

John's pillow was still sitting there, stained with brown crusted up blood. The bedsheets that would never be warmed again sits haphazardly on the floor. He feels cold, empty in parts of his heart that he doesn't want to move. His limbs feels numb, and everything else seems so boring now that John wants beside him.

He misses the mornings with John, misses the smell of his cologne when it was still clung onto his pillows. He misses everything about John's from his scarred skin to the tattoos that decorated his body.

Nik doesn't stay in John's apartment now, with too much memories there waiting for him. The pain of a love lost, the pain of memories not yet made too much for him to bear. The pain that there was nothing else to remember John by now, nothing but the tattoo on his wrist and the home he had abandoned.

Months past, and Nik grows a little older. He refuses to think about how John would have gone grey now, how he would have pinched Nik for teasing him.

No, instead he reverts back into his old ways.

Nights spent in hotels with another person next to him, desperately trying to fill the void that John had left, clinging onto whatever remains of John in this world.

He gives up after one night, stands at the edge of a rooftop. The cars below him whizzed by, he could feel the wind on his face from up here. Blue eyes still haunting him from some crevices of his mind. He doesn't intend to jump, to just watch the skies above. Familiar cologne wraps around his body like a snake, the only remnants of John he could carry around with him.

The night sky seemed so inviting when he falls.

Seeing John mad gets Nik all hot and bothered. He likes seeing those baby blues turn furious and narrowed, and he especially loves when his lips move faster than his brain and he says whatever’s on his mind to whoever he wants.

It takes him back to when they were younger and John was nothing but a quick-witted, smart-mouthed Sergeant who had no regard for authority or the President himself.

His favorite thing, however, is when John directs his anger at Nik, because then he can break him down from that anger and take his sweet time building him back up into a pliant puddle of mush in their bed(or whatever surface they crashed onto).

OMG??😭😭(hm.. that’s a thought).

…

@on-a-lucky-tide @homosexualgirlandbags👀

I think that Nik may have a TOUCH of eczema on his body. Maybe on the backs of his hands or in the crook of his arms and neck.

Either way, it’s a pain in the ass when Summer and Winter roll around and he runs out of his medicated cream because his skin gets all dry and cracks or it flares and he ends up with gashes in those areas from scratching it so much.

Luckily for him, John is always there to help!

He’ll make sure he always has his cream when he can, and if he starts to scratch at those areas he’ll move his hand and rub gently at the spot to soothe it. If Nik manages to scratch a gash however, he’ll run it under cold or warm water. (Nik likes scolding hot water but knows that the other two options are best for him.)

Woke up this morning, did my hygiene routine, got dressed and went to the bathroom to do my eyebrows and eyelashes and saw that I had eye bags.

…

EYE BAGS.

I HAVE BAGS UNDER MY EYES.

…

Time to dropout🤷🏾‍♀️

Uhhhh John grabbing at Nik’s full hairy man tits while riding him uhmmmm and moaning like he owns them hmmmm Nik groping at John’s fat ass urmmmmmmm and grinning because he does own it uhhhhhhh..