I’m Getting Into Working Out(yes This Late, LEAVE ME ALONE!!) And Goodness Gracious, Why Didn’t Anyone

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).

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 admires John.

cw: possessive Nikolai; sexual content at the end.

Nik didn't much like festive parties. He wasn't a fan of Christmas anyway; a wanton celebration of capitalist greed, he had mumbled at John as they had shaved shoulder to shoulder in the hotel bathroom. John had chuckled in that low, gravelly way he did, blue eyes crinkling, and Nik had decided he would make love to him when they got back. Dressed like penguins - John's words - they had headed out into the cold night, hailing a black cab to take them to the more auspicious centre of London to an entirely different hotel. Nik has offered to purchase a suite there for the night but John had balked at the cost.

The dinner had been uneventful, with small talk and a few side glances in Nik's direction, and now they mingled around a marquee erected on the back of the hotel's gardens. A small oasis in the center of a city once choked with black smoke and industry. Nik might have admired the beautiful orangery or spent some time looking at the various art pieces in the reception hall, but he simply couldn't tear his eyes away from John.

He was, truly, magnificent.

His tailored suit fit him perfectly despite his earlier derision, from the flare of his broad shoulders to his narrow waist, the fall of his trousers hanging in well-cut, straight lines to a pair of Oxfords, buffed and polished to within an inch of their lives. Nik would expect nothing less.

John wore his dinner suit with an understated class. Not like the vacuum tight monstrosities some of the other officers were walking around in; pinched jackets around athletic waists, slim fit shirts, trousers like drainpipes, stretched so tightly that the crease down the front was invisible. They showed off a distasteful amount around the crotch, calf and thigh, in Nik's opinion; the material snagging and pulling in all the wrong places.

Why spend thousands on a suit just to look cheap? Coiffed hair, too-white teeth, synthetic, clingy fabrics; the earmarks of superficiality. Perhaps he was biased, but not a single one of those bleach-toothed smiles held a candle to the crinkled blue eyes and charmingly crooked grin of his captain.

Nik stayed at the edges of the party, propping up the bar for the most part. He watched John drift from group to group, ticking off the list of people he wanted to talk to as well as the list of people he knew he should talk to. John hated politics, but he was good at it when he had to be; attentive, diplomatic, guarded and dangerous. Nik could see it in the way he moved across the room, his shoulders squared, his head up, his chest out; a predator plucked from the wild and placed among domesticated dogs.

John's hand nursed his whiskey glass, his little finger tucked beneath it, forefinger tap-tapping in the lull of conversation like it did against the side of his M4 when he was thinking. The same John, different hostile environment.

Because they were in an outside marquee, John could smoke to keep his hands occupied, and he placed his glass aside to light up the cigar he plucked from his dinner jacket. One of the Cohibas Nik had gifted him with as an early present. He was flexing. A subtle flex, but a flex none of the less. Nik shifted his thighs apart and sat his elbows back against the bar, quietly preening. He provided for what was his. John never went without.

He watched John's lips against the cap, the soft pink slightly chapped, and tried not to get lost in the memory of what they felt like against his. The anticipation of what they would taste like as they surrendered to him later. John exhaled grey smoke to the side, a few stray whisps curling from his mouth, like a dragon with embers in its chest. He settled it through the slant of his fingers beside his whiskey glass and took another sip, those kissable lips glistening, tongue gliding over the lower in search of the last drops and Nik had to adjust in his stool.

Nik couldn't help but love it when that mouth smiled, talked, laughed, and think about kissing it, sliding his fingers behind John's neck and cupping his strong jaw in the cradle of his palm. The way John would melt against him, so pliant when touched by a man who knows how to handle him, how to pluck his strings and tease out the sweetest notes.

Because John needed a firm hand, didn't he? No matter how cleverly he disguised his rough edges with smart suits and a comb. Tonight, John was perfectly groomed, so tidy. His beard trimmed, his hair cut and brushed into place, but there was one thing John couldn't buff, polish, trim or press out of himself.

The eyes.

Nik could see their light, their fire; he watched them darken with concentration, brighten with laughter, the lines at the corners distinct, distinguished. They glittered with that same intelligence that let him slip behind his current facade, but also with cunning, and a barely suppressed wildness simmering below the surface; fierce, uncontrollable. While John might think his judgments were discreet from others, Nik could see him weighing some of the men before him and finding them wanting. It was clear in the tilt of his shoulders, the press of his lips.

They were wanting. Both in what they lacked compared to their better standing before them, and in their desire to have him. Nik wasn't the only man in the room whose gaze had lingered, admired. Coveted. Nik wanted to gouge their eyes out every time he spotted one. How arrogant they were to think they were even worthy. Their hunger was palpable. There was one watching John now. Blond hair slicked back, his hand buried deep in his pocket as his hips tilted in John's direction.

As the lounge singer they had hired for the evening picked up his microphone for his first song, Nik watched the Blond try his hand. John greeted him affably, bouncing on his toes and toasting his drink. Nik watched as the Blond introduced himself and was pleased to see no recognition on John's face. They began to discuss a recent operation; the Blond started boasting. John was unimpressed, one eyebrow cocked, and Nik smirked.

They talked for a little longer, the singer lapsing from one song into another, and the Blond touched John's elbow. Nik watched a subtle tension roll across John's shoulders, his core tightening, his fingers turning whiter around his glass, and then, with practised self control, John forced himself to back down from high alert. For the first time, those blue eyes slid across to Nik, tracing down his body to the spread of his legs, heels of his shoes hooked on the bar stool. They lingered, clearly admiring, and Nik spread himself for appraisal.

Nik saw the moment John decided to play with him. A twitch at the corner of his lips, a flash of those cunning blue eyes before they turned back to the Blond. A dangerous game. The Blond that had now become John's prey. His body language changed subtly, shoulders and chest opening up from where they had been guarded, and then John returned the touch; a brush of the fingers across the elbow. Luring him in for the kill. The Blond leaned close to talk a little quieter and John tilted his head, watching through his eyebrows, listening with a faint smile.

The lounge singer changed songs; a slow, sultry version of 'You Put A Spell On Me'. Perfect, Nik thought wryly. Because John had cast a spell on every man in the room that was inclined towards another man in their bed. Nik watched The Blond touch John again, on the hip this time, and vaguely considered how easy it would be to bundle the arrogant shit into the back of a van and cut that hand off with a machete.

Nik finished his drink and slid from the bar stool. He made his way over slowly, adjusting his cufflinks as he approached his target from behind, looming large at his back. "Ah, Nik, this is Major Dustin Houghton, Royal Anglian," John said, and Houghton startled as he looked around to see Nik standing over him, six inches taller and several miles broader. "Major, this is Nikolai, my husband."

"Your...?" Houghton started, eyes dropping to Nik's left hand, where his silver wedding ring wrapped his finger.

"Da," Nik said flatly, watching as Houghton's offending hand retreated into his pocket. "And I have come to collect my husband for a dance."

"Urf, Nik, really? The Major and I were just discussin'--actually, what were yer proposin', Major? Somethin' ya wanted to show me in yer room..."

"Oh, uh, nothing. Absolutely nothing of import. You two, uhm, ahh, I think that's... Yes, that's Frank from the Mercian, you two have a lovely evening."

"Yeah, 'course." John watched him leave over the rim of his whiskey glass, content in his victory. Or so he believed.

Nik took John by the elbow to steer him towards the small floor before the singer. A few other couples were swaying together amongst the jumble of bodies, and Nik took John's glass and placed it on a nearby table, setting his cigar over the top before encircling him, hands finding his narrow hips and drawing them close.

John placed a hand on Nik's chest and the other on his arm, smirking, ready to gloat. "Did I make ya jealous?"

Nik cocked a brow and leaned in to John's neck. The kisses he placed beneath John's ear, slow, lingering, teased a soft noise from John's chest, his hips bumping forward to Nik's. "Nyet, John. Jealousy is for boys and weak men who do not know their own worth. He could not take you from me. He is not worthy of you."

Nik felt John coil with pleasure against him. He could imagine how his toes were curling in his shoes, the hairs on his arms standing on end, as Nik's voice passed over his skin like a caress.

"Naw, ya don't think so?"

"I do not need to think. I know."

"Olrigh', not jealousy, then what? Why the Russian 'itman act?"

"I am possessive," Nik murmured. "But you know this, which is why you sought to... antagonise me by misbehaving."

"Yeah?"

Nik felt John's smile against the side of his face and nuzzled a kiss into his neatly trimmed beard.

"I am tempted to reclaim you in front of them all."

"Right here, eh? Give 'em all somethin' to gossip about."

"Da. I would spread your legs right here, and make you scream my name, leave you fucked full of me, so they all know to who the great Captain John Price belongs to."

"Fuckin' filthy," John purred, his voice thick, fingers kneading in Nik's shirt as their bodies swayed together, the deep, sultry voice of the lounge singer a pleasant hum in the background. Nik's thumbs circled on John's hips, his nose tracing over the frantic, desperate pulse in the side of John's neck. Their touches were discreet, Nik's voice low, but the illicit nature only made their blood run hotter.

"You would like them to watch you take my cock, see how beautiful you are, knowing that they can never have you as I do."

"Bloody 'ell," John rasped, and Nik knew he had won their game. He simply needed to deliver the final blow and claim his prize.

"They would see how easily you surrender yourself to me," Nik whispered, running his open mouth over the line of John's beard to hover over his lips. "Just as you are now."

"Nik..." John whispered before Nik took his chin and kissed him, sweeping his other hand to the small of his back. Nik held John close as his tongue swept between his lips and claimed what was rightfully his. Tasted the cheeky tongue, the soft lips soaked in whiskey, taking possession of everything he had admired from afar.

Nik drank down the soft moan of pleasure, his own body warming as John gripped at him, trying to pull as close as possible. They moved together, so deeply tuned in to each shift of muscle, the slide of expensive wool and cotton beneath their hands, the heat of their bodies burning through as their hearts fluttered.

John liked being hunted, but he liked being possessed even more. To know that Nik would pursue him through whatever storm or trial until he was back where he belonged: in Nik's arms. And once there, to have Nik demonstrate exactly to whom he belonged. Nik needed it as much as he did it. The thrill of possessing the one thing in the world that no one else could ever. That no amount of money could ever buy; the most beautiful man to walk it.

Nik could feel the hum of want thrumming through the strong body in his arms, primed and eager, and he knew he would be purchasing that expensive hotel room after all. He drew back, sucking gently on John's lower lip, and admired those hazy blue eyes. The song has drawn to an end and faded into another. John was thoroughly at his mercy.

"Come, I am bored of this party."

John swallowed and managed a nod, his lips were red, kiss swollen and glistening and Nik needed them stretched around his prick.

Nik took his hand and pulled him from the hall to reception, where a quick flash of plastic bought them the expensive studio room with a sprawling king-sized bed and champagne in the fridge. Nik kissed John in the lift, sliding a hand beneath his shirt to feel the heat of his skin and made him stutter out tight gasps with sucking kisses on his neck, beneath his ear. The door to the room had barely clicked shut before their clothes were thrown off, and they tumbled into the bedroom.

John swallowed Nik down greedily once it had sprung free from his boxers, lips stretched impossibly wide around its girth, and Nik mussed that too neat hair until he found the untamed man that stalked battlegrounds at his side, thrusting slowly into John's spasming throat as he squirmed on the mattress.

When Nik turned him onto his back and spread his thighs, John arched, offering himself desperately, pleasing in a low, husky rasp, cock drunk and needy. He fisted the sheets as Nik claimed him, Nik's name punching out of his chest in a low, gravelly moan that curled like molten heat in Nik's gut. Those same eyes that he had watched hunt the party now misty and soft, tamed a little by pleasure, but no less bright.

"Who do you belong to, John?" Nik whispered, dragging his thick cock in and out in slow, deep thrusts.

"You, Nik, fuck... you, please."

"Da... Me." Nik thrust in hard and licked the cry of ecstasy from John's mouth.

I think that Price has an unhealthy addiction to any sorting or organizing game.

When he first got a phone he didn’t really use it much because— what’s it good for except making calls and texting when needed, or reading the weather? But when he sees an ad for a game called Nuts Sort.. it was over from there.

Nik didn’t really mind when he saw his husband first playing it. In fact, he was happy that John was using his phone for something other than mundanity. But when he begins to play it in the middle of sleepless nights or when Nik’s trying to serenade him, the Russian begins to grow irritated because now that “stupid granny game”(as he’d call it) was taking up his love’s time and attention.

So.. if the game so happens to disappear from his phone the next day and Nik fucks him feverishly over their dresser to help him forget about the game forever then.. ah, who gives a shit right?

I think that Nik and Price enjoy thigh-fucking, Nik moreso than his lover.

Nik especially loves to get between John’s thighs after they’ve come back from the gym and one spent their time actually working out while the other spent their time fantasizing about the many positions they’d put their S/O in.

It doesn’t matter if John’s hot and sweaty, to Nik, it just makes everything easier because now he doesn’t have to waste time lubing up and can instead just slide on in!

If John gets overstimulated and tries to move his thighs apart, Nik will hold them together with all his might and speed up, causing his husband to cry out and whimper until he’s putty against his chest.

I’m so sorry I know Nik is a man of stamina but the first time he ever has Simon and John on their knees, together, eyes looking up at him, half lidded and dazed, mouths meeting for a dirty kiss over his cock?

He’s painting their faces with a pained groan, staring at the ceiling because if he looks down to see their mouths open, tongues out and coated in him, he’s going to have a heart attack

Then proceeds to listen to the other two share a kiss, all tongue and spit and Nik

Y’all know those days where you just sit back and start to reminisce on the shit you let people do to you in the past and just think.. how the fuck did I let them get away with that?

Like.. no fades were caught? Nobody ran up?? No nothing???

…

Ts haunts me in my dreams bro😓

Since it snowed Tuesday night, my school’s plans to make us go back today were foiled. Unluckily for us, they decided to give us online instruction, as well as a two hour delay tomorrow.

Now I’m sitting here trying to remember how to do a quadratic function and hoping my absence to my first period class won’t be counted.

Eating this up for my five-courser😋

I fear John serves too much cunt for him to not get into trouble for his sass when he's younger.

Just imagine with me for a second, a young faced John, standing next to a freshly promoted Kate Laswell. Even back then, she seemed to be the one tugging at his bitch vest whenever the man got too far. Didn't exactly help that he gets pissed off over the littlest things.

Someone insults his captain? Ends with John cursing the poor bastard to a corner with tears.

Some poor bloke got into the way of John whilst he was stressed? Laswell didn't even know there was a way to construct an English sentence like that.

Some foreigner bloke starts cursing him out in another language? John somehow manages to insult the man's mother through Google translate. With correct grammar too.

A guy picks a fight with John? Well, Laswell refuses to talk about the ending, so we'll never know.

His captain probably has more grays in his head dedicated to John. Laswell was sure she was gonna die of heart failure at an early age if she continues on with her smoking and being friends with John.

...Which was exactly the reason why she introduced Nikolai to John. Sure, it was bad that John had cracked the man's nose. But could you really blame her if that was the moment she sees Nikolai eyes light up in intrigue?

And in the days that followed, could you blame Laswell if she places John on patrol in the kinda places Nik would lurk around? She's just doing damage control for herself and his poor captain. She's innocent, your honour.

Fortunately for Laswell, it worked. Very well. Price finally calms his tits down for a second. And the first time she sees Price not immediately insult someone's entire bloodline over a little mistake (just their parents), she knew she succeeded.

Unfortunately for her, it worked too well. So we'll in fact that Nik didn't bother closing his heli whilst rutting into John.

She doesn't think she wants to ever recall the way she had locked eyes with Nik whilst the dirty old bastard (he's 7 years older than John damnit) clamps his hand over John's mouth.

Sigh.

She doesn't suppose she could control John's temper in the first place without the man taking it out on someone else's arse. Even if it was literal.

Oh well.

A short tibbit since it’s 2 in the morning and I can’t sleep, but I think Price and Nik take snow days as a day to relax and be around each other, whether they be on base or at home.

On base, Nik will come into Price’s office with some tea and his favorite snacks, and they’ll sit together and talk or just bask in each other’s presence.

At home, they’re in their cozy pj’s and they’re on the couch watching something. Or maybe they’re reading books to each other while the heat creates a soothing warmth that makes Price melt into Nik’s side and makes Nik bend to accommodate Price in a comforting way.

Point is, they both like being warm in the Winter, but having each other beside them is even better.