Latest Posts by music4soul - Page 2

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😓

Ugh, GIVE ME MY GLOW UP NOW!! I DESERVE IT!

OMG??😭😭(hm.. that’s a thought).

…

@on-a-lucky-tide @homosexualgirlandbags👀

This is so awesome sauce

I hope you know that your Omega Price and Alpha Nik are actually sending me insane.

Like this dynamic... oh my GOSH please I'm biting at the bars of my cage HELLO

I can imagine Price being so reluctant to do anything, but like when his heat comes he's both desperate and not wanting too. Idk smt about that UGH.

Don't mind me teehee have an amazing day/night Jack! You're awesome :3

Cheers, bud! I really enjoy omegaverse. But the omega needs to be capable of tearing out throats for it to really pull me in.

I've got a half written thing I've had for ages about Nik and Price getting shot down in a fixed wing aircraft. Nik and Price have to bail and Nik ends up getting quite badly hurt. Price has to carry him to safety under heavy fire. He goes into a protective heat, because that's when omega are at their strongest. (Bit of a spin on it.) And he ends up mating with Nik (Nik's into it). Then, when the rest of the 141 come and find them, Price is so deep in the fervour of heat that he fights them with his bare fuckin' hands. Soap has to clock him in the back of the head while he's hammering away on Ghost's face, because he doesn't see his taskforce, only three threats to his wounded alpha; the father of his pups.

Imagine that feral bastard melting from the shadows of a cave and descending like some fury from hell. Blood in his teeth still from where he claimed Nik.

I don’t know if you’ve done this already, but what do you think about a WildWest!NikPrice au?

Like Nik’s a fugitive and Price is a bar owner or a sheriff, something like that^^

Today I paid someone to stick needles through my skin and this still ellicted more of a reaction because holy shit.

I don't think it's obvious, genuinely, I don't think I've been overly open about it but like I have a thing about cowboys and Western settings.

This ask is lethal. NikPrice and the wild west? Beat me to death with a hammer, it does not get better than this.

Sheriff John who appraoches this newcomer in town and tells him he's gonna have to get his ass out by sunrise tomorrow because John has heard the stories and he doesn't welcome that kinda presence around his people.

Fugitive Nikolai, who decides the only way to deal with such a man is to get in a scuffle with him and brawl like drunks because he doesn't do well with lawmen who have wide shoulders and tight asses.

If they end up dryhumping, then that's no one's business. Neither is the way Nikolai has a habit of showing back up in town. The sheriff always warns him away, but they see how he walks with a limo the day after. For a man with a temper as rampant as his, they have to wonder why he hasn't put a hole in this crook already.

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🤷🏾‍♀️

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.

(More on this paragraph from my last tibbit)

Sometimes when John is being a prick, Nikolai will drag him to a janitor’s closet and put his mouth to better use instead of listening to him chatter about how he could take him in a fist fight.

But if John’s being too much of a prick one day, he’ll take him to the hangar, sit them both down in the pilot seat, and watch the sergeant squirm and ride his meaty thigh until he’s a crying, writhing mess.

..kinda like now..

After a few too many insults one day during evac training, Nik excused the two of them because apparently he needed help grabbing something in the hangar(even though he’s perfectly capable of getting it himself), and drags John along.

Now a good thirty minutes have passed and John is on his second orgasm, back arching and hands grabbing at the armrests as he pants, fogging the windows up.

“Take your time lyubov', we’ve got all the time in the world.” Nik mutters as he watches the sergeant squirm.

“N-Nik.” John grunted, trying to move off Nik’s thigh as he became increasingly overstimulated. “Nik, please-”

Suddenly the Russian grabbed his hips and pulled him back onto his leg, beginning to bounce his thigh. This caused the Brit to cry out, body shaking and tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as Nik held him tightly, leaning in to whisper filthy words in different languages to John, which soon pushed him over the edge as he came for the third time.

“Khoroshiy mal'chik.” Nik said with a grin, kissing down John’s neck slowly before nipping at his collarbone. “If you’ll hump a leg like this, I wonder how you’d hump a c-”

“Shut up.” John choked out, mustering up his best glare despite it looking just a bit too desperate. “Yer’ nothin’ but a mangy dog.”

Nik pauses in his seat for a second, staring up at the sergeant with a blank look. John stares back down in triumph because, for a singular second he thought that he was finally able to shut the pilot up.

..Oh how he was sorely mistaken, because in the next minute he was in the chair with his legs thrown over Nik’s shoulders, feeling the hard bulge of the man between his legs and how hot and mean it felt.

“Ready to test my earlier theory dorogoy?” Nik asks as he unzips his jumpsuit and shifts his boxers to let his length spring free, hitting John’s thigh with a soft thud.

John’s eyes widen a bit as he took in the sight of the Russian, noting how pre dribbled down his shaft in stringy lines and dripped onto the seat, soaking it in small, sticky dots.

Ah man.. what’s John gotten himself into?

UGH, John being an aggressive little prick when he’s flustered is so him.

He does things without thinking sometimes, so one day when Nik decides to comment on his freckles he curses the man to the moon and back before leaving with his heart pounding out of his chest.

Nik finds it endearing too, likes to see the man get riled up at his comments and scream at him or get physical, and though Nik is stronger than John and can easily subdue him, giving him the illusion that he’s putting Nik in his place is fun to watch.

One day though, when Nik finally decides that he’s had enough of the sass and the insults, he’ll carry the sergeant all the way to his helicopter in the hangar, sit in the pilot seat, and make John ride his thigh until he’s a whining, whimpering mess.

Obsessing over the idea of AgeGap!NikPrice where Nik(32) meets Price(22) when he’s coming to assist on a mission and sees the sergeant mouthing off to his Captain with little fear and a lot of audacity and saying something about how he “looked like he had a tumor of his nose”(he’d broken it a few days ago), and that he should just “let him lead” because he wouldn’t be able to “see around his second head”(which earns him toilet duty later).

And from that day forward, the criminal pilot was infatuated with the snappy Brit. His confidence, his whit, especially his lack of care for authority. He was headstrong and mouthy, and he definitely had the strength to back it up, and Nikolai could admire that.

He didn’t start to love him until one day when he’d said something that got the sergeant riled up and punched him in the nose. Apparently, commenting on how pretty his eyes were was somewhat of a death wish in John’s world, but Nik soon thought otherwise when he caught the sergeant’s freckled ears turning red and his cheeks a light shade of pink.

..and I can’t bring myself to finish this.. ran out of ideas. Someone help me please!!!! @homosexualgirlandbags any ideas stinker?😓

You can’t convince me that pre-Captain Price didn’t have the iconic early-2000’s spiky hair look when he was a sergeant or still in highschool.

And trust me, he was the shit(and made sure everyone knew it too).

Hopefully, when the economy gets better and I get out of college, I’ll make lots of money, be single with no kids, move states, and have a 90’s-early 2000’s looking house with a deep undivided sink, a deep bathtub with tile flo- everything, warm lighting, and just.. early 2000’s everything.

I’ll have records of my favorite artists on the wall, a record player that’s awesome sauce(because I’m awesome sauce), and my wardrobe will be filled to the brim with cool clothes that I wear 24/7(because I’m cool). I’ll have a red convertible beetle with daisy rims, and when I ride in it with the ceiling down, I’ll have chunky shades to shield my eyes from the harsh beams of the sun. And I’ll also have a chunky purse with mad accessories and decorations like pins and keychains, and whenever I walk you’ll be sure to hear me from a mile away(because I’m that girl).

Point of this post is, some people’s American dream is to make good money and get married and have kids and live a stable life, and that’s great, but my American dream is to be rich, be financially stable, and just have fun. Any problems I experience along the way is just character development.

Obsessing over the idea of AgeGap!NikPrice where Nik(32) meets Price(22) when he’s coming to assist on a mission and sees the sergeant mouthing off to his Captain with little fear and a lot of audacity and saying something about how he “looked like he had a tumor of his nose”(he’d broken it a few days ago), and that he should just “let him lead” because he wouldn’t be able to “see around his second head”(which earns him toilet duty later).

And from that day forward, the criminal pilot was infatuated with the snappy Brit. His confidence, his whit, especially his lack of care for authority. He was headstrong and mouthy, and he definitely had the strength to back it up, and Nikolai could admire that.

He didn’t start to love him until one day when he’d said something that got the sergeant riled up and punched him in the nose. Apparently, commenting on how pretty his eyes were was somewhat of a death wish in John’s world, but Nik soon thought otherwise when he caught the sergeant’s freckled ears turning red and his cheeks a light shade of pink.

..and I can’t bring myself to finish this.. ran out of ideas. Someone help me please!!!! @homosexualgirlandbags any ideas stinker?😓

I like to think that when Price gets mad, he gets petty.

Oh, Gaz wants to switch his sugar out for salt? Seasonings of any kind are banned for a month.

Soap locked him out while it was raining? He’ll stand at attention outside during a thunderstorm until Price gets tired of looking at him.

Ghost hid a pack of his favorite cigars? He’ll hide his toothpaste, toothbrush, hygiene products, basically everything, and make him hunt for it.

But when Nik upsets him to the point where he doesn’t even want to talk it out, he’ll ban him to the couch until he gets sick at the lack of physical touch and huddles beside his husband on the small space.

You’re good at this “Let’s make Goober cry today” thing, keep it up stinker👍🏾

On another note though, it’s refreshing to see someone write about the ups and (crashing) downs of aging and the troubles that come with it, especially how bad it is for those who’ve served or been through something traumatic.

Some would’ve never thought they’d see the day where big, strong, capable Captain Price would be reduced to a fragile old man, and yet here we are. I think it shows that life is as unpredictable as it is unfair, and anything can happen to anyone, even the strongest of people.

It’ll break you down like that, and yet the world keeps spinning.

There's a certain kind of pain from watching your loved one rot away in front of your eyes.

Watching the man you've spent 50 years together with grow old and waste away, bits and parts of his brain eventually devoured by age, whilst you stay immortal, standing still in the sands of time, your skin flawless and perfect.

How could you grief a man that's still alive anyways? How could you celebrate life when the man you've sworn to heaven and hell is actively degrading in front of you? Sitting in a wheelchair with a ventilator following him around?

The pain seems bone wrecking when Nik stands in front of Price, and watches the man's milky eyes take him in fully first before finally recognising him. The way John stutters over his name, how his chest heaves with even the most simplest of words. (Like muttering a loved one's name) He watches as John stays quiet, allowing Nik to push him around the garden, occasionally stopping down to watch the flowers and ducks.

John's time on Earth was most definitely limited. Unlike Nik, who had seen the face of several wars and great empires rise and fall, John will soon vanish with time, left as another body for Nik to mourn six feet under dirt. His body will eventually decompose, and serve as fertilizer for the land around him.

Nik watches as John slowly gets up, only to nearly damn collapse from the lack of use of his muscles, saved by Nik hastily holding him. It reminds him of how little time he has left, how eventually he would have to remember John's face from a photo instead, how he already needs videos to remember how John had sounded.

The next time he visits, John takes a little more time to recognise the face of his lover, still never questioning how Nik looked no older. He stays for the whole day, wheeling John around before letting him walk around with a walker.

The next time he sees John, it was in the picture of a younger face smiling at him, etched in stone. Bundles of snowdrops flower (the favourite flowers of a man he'll never see again) spread around his grave.

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.

…

🚶🏾‍♀️

It's been hours since the mission had gone rogue.

Hours since Price saw the rest of his team.

Hours since he heard Nik's voice lose control over the intercom, hours since he heard the choking of blood over his intercom.

The room was cold. The chair he was sitting on was poking into his skin. Price could feel the water dripping down his back, making it hard to dissociate. Not that he could anyways. The rope was digging into his skin, and the wound in his thigh would only render him useless if he decided to run.

The room was spinning from the blood loss, and he had nothing within reach to defend himself. And he couldn't see much without the lights, just vague shapes and figures, nothing to access the danger levels by.

They stripped him down hours ago, leaving only underwear to cover his bits. He had watched as the men forced Simon on the ground, tearing the mask off of him, if just for the ability to humiliate the great 'Ghost' by stripping down the only thing that protected him and his identity.

He didn't know where Gaz was, nor Soap or Simon. The last he heard of them were horrified screams from Simon after a bang.

He desperately hopes none of his team is dead.

The gods above him seem to disagree with him.

A few more hours of waiting, and a click. The room instantly filling with light. It blinded him, if anything. Though seeing the room he was in filled with medical supplies did nothing to calm his nerves. A voice flooded the intercom above him as a face too familiar was pushed into the room across from him.

"Mr Price, I must admit. Your team was... Most definitely trained, no? Like dogs on a leash."

Oh.

Oh.

His sweet beautiful Nik. Reduced to something sub human from torture. How did he end up looking like that?

He wants to reach out across the room, to hold the ruined body of his loved one close.

He could tell Nik was still alive, if the way he was still shouting slurs to the men was anything to go by.

But he looks so, so much worse. His hair was shaved off, a large ugly stamp on his head. Labeling him with a number rather than his name. Price noted that Nik too, was naked, though any relief from shared shame was replaced by the horror from the marks decorating Nik's body.

His body, covered in lashes and blisters. His fingernails were bloodied and worn out. Price could see Nik stumbling in the room, the wound on his knees made Price gagged.

Price wasn't too sure how Nik had survived all that and was still faring, still cursing and spitting on one of his captors foot as he watched across from him.

He watched as the men buckled Nik down, strapping him into a chair similar to his as they both stared at each other's.

And suddenly, any rage or disgust in Nik's eyes softened into something human, something akin to adoration, to love.

Although love might have just cost Nik his whole bloody world.

Because the men above saw this, took notice of this, saw how Nik calmed down upon seeing Price (mostly) unharmed.

It's been several hours, or days. Price really couldn't tell, fading in and out of consciousness before buckets of icy cold water were tossed on him.

He's been dehumanised, degraded, destroyed over and over again, before molded back into something vaguely human shaped by the hands of his captors.

He couldn't tell what was happening, not the time, not the place, not the faces in front of him.

All he really could make out was Nik's constant look of horror whenever he looked over to him, his face twisted into something akin to agony.

Price can't tell how he felt.

He felt numb, if anything.

The constant pain from being dehumanised was almost impossible to handle.

He knew he was covered in his own vomit, or blood. Or something that was human in nature. Perhaps shit. Perhaps pee. He can't tell.

He knew he stink, and that was it.

He knew the times when the men would leave him alone, giving him some moment to regain himself before dumping hot water on his back, worsening the wounds already there.

Price couldn't tell what the men wanted. Because they seemed to be torturing him for the fun of it. For the ability to see him crumble down like ash in their hands.

Despair was the only thing he could make out, the feeling of losing himself amidst the pain and tears. The feeling of hopelessness as he finally tore into the rotten raw meat in front of him.

He'd shared rooms with rats, with cockroaches, with bugs that nip at him any chance they got.

And what's worse, at some point, he stopped taking notice of Nik across from him.

Nik could only watch as he sees Price gets tortured in ways he had only dreamt of. A lash there, a little waterboarding there, a bit of isolation, and a little testing of drugs, along with the rodents in his room.

He watches as Price stares at him, helplessly as the bastards pump him full of something, and watches as Price wakes up, crying and sobbing before suddenly laughing manically, banging himself on the shit stained walls.

Nik watches as Price was made to eat something flesh like, raw meat. Before being told it was a rat from the sewers.

Nik who could only watch as his love turned into something...disturbing, something inhuman, something that's more animal than man at this point.

Nik who had to watch on, as Price loses himself.

Rage and fury gave way to desperate screams for them to stop, to do whatever they wanted to him instead.

However, the gods above are nothing but cruel and vile creatures, creatures who must have created the human race just to laugh at them, given them emotions and hopes and dreams just for shits and giggles.

Because Price hadn't moved for over a day since the last time they forced moldy bread down his throat.

I don’t care WHO or WHERE I get it from, but I demand more omegaverse!NikPrice asap😾.

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.

This is so silly😭❤️

HIIII! I LOVE THE WAY YOU DREW ROACH! You made him look so badass! 🤎

OH HI THANKS (but I don't make anything look at him he is just like that by himself I guess??)

I feel like Nik’s music taste is everywhere.

If you asked him who his favorite artist was, he’d give you a whole scroll that could reach the ends of the Earth and then some.

If you said he could only pick one, he’d give you the most disgusted look a peaceful man like himself could muster and turn his nose up at you simply because,— who has just one favorite music artist?

If he ever met that person, he’d make them listen to all the music artists the world has to offer until they apologized and saw reason.

I just realized that I didn’t really introduce myself when I first came here and just started writing shit off gate so I should probably do that in some way..

But instead of yapping your ears off, I made this “mood board”(or whatever tf it is) to give you a peek of my personality.

*Chef’s kiss*

Pole dancing Price with 'a little bit harder now' by she wants revenge.

Ok, ok so, Price decides to just, loosen up a little on a Friday night with the other drag queens, yk? Drink a little of those hyper sweet alcoholic drinks that contain far too much alcohol, maybe get a little high off of weed with his boyfriend...

Maybe agree to do a pole dance in the next Saturday show...

Well, ok, one of these things is not like the others, but Price did let loose of being an occasional body model when he was younger, ends up lifting his shirt to show off his gains, maybe let them apply some makeup on him, and maybe he did agree to fill in the spot of a sick queen for next week. It's his problem yk? It's his problem that he got fucking bricked up and swayed from being surrounded by men his size, men who could bend him backside... all equally beautiful, sweaty... Hairy... Happy trails all around... He was almost tempted to reach out and touch some of them.

Hey, he's only human, and he is entitled to his own opinions and feelings, ok?

Well, anyways, he panics the next day, and this was when Nik finds out that his boyfriend already knew how to pole dance (he mentally adds it to his list of videos to find of Price). And being the sweet sweet boyfriend he is, he preps him up, makes sure he doesn't break a joint or something, lends some of his clothes to John (which might be an excuse to just see John in a bodysuit).

Nik joins in that night, and maybe because he's a bitch who likes to show off, invites the rest of the 141 with him, just so they could watch the show together. I mean, would you not want to show off your boyfriend if it was John Price??

It's been a little over an hour now, and the crowd was still going strong. Nik shifts in his seat, eyeing the time. It is getting closer to John's appearance now, and he is tempted to check on him real quick, just to calm his poor lovers nerves down. He almost doesn't notice Price already standing on stage until he hears Gaz mutter a curse under his breath.

Holy fuck, he was beautiful.

Nik almost thinks he's in heaven from how Price looks, how the light hits his face just correctly to highlight the small dimple popping out on his cheek. How he could see fucking piercings on Price tits, barely poking out, how the glittering bodysuit makes him look more akin to a prize. He must have really pleased the sky daddy up there to live long and see this. He watches him do a little crowd work, yk, introducing himself, teasing the crowd the same way he sees Nik does it, lets one of the audience members touch his tits for the fleeting moment. How he was wearing a skirt that covers almost nothing...

He damn near loses his mind when the lights turn off and only a silhouette of Price could be seen from behind the curtains. He did lose his mind when the show starts, and even though Price was behind a curtain, he could damn well see every move he makes, how Price moves so fucking shamelessly now when behind a curtain, how even the crowd seem buzzing with some sort of energy, probabaly thinking of things that Nik was, maybe more.

The song choice did no favours to Nik's mind, only supplying him with more and more scenarios of Price on his knees, Price bending backwards... Price tied up... Damnit, he had always been a deviant, but this was only pushing his limits of imagination.

Christ, was Price always able to move like this? He fucking missed out on this, shit. His mouth went dry as he watched the silhouette of Price drop down, twirling around the pole...

Nik moves in his seat, watching his boyfriend fucking dance for strangers. He makes a note to install a pole in his apartment in the future, maybe sign up for a class himsel-

The curtain drops.

The curtain fucking drops.

Price reveals himself to the crowd, having apparently changed his clothes in the middle of his performance, cheeky grin on his face as he twirls on the pole a little more, dropping down on the ground with a cheeky wink before continuing on. Damnit, what a tease. The rhinestones and diamonds shimmered against the black bodysuit, the light reflecting off of his suit, demanding for the crowd attention on him.

End of the show, and the stage was covered in bills as Price thanks them, slow, provocative, teasing as he bends down, revealing how his bodysuit was made out of lace, leaving everything except for the grand prize showing...

A man could only take so much teasing, really. And Nik couldn't really care that the lieutenant and sergeant were missing, or that Gaz was fucking flushed. He watches as Price heads back stage, deliberately bending down once just to give them a different kind of show...

That night, under the neon lights of the bar and the buzzing electricity of the crowd, no one notices Price bent over one of the backstage prop doors, exactly like how he did on stage after his performance. And Simon keeps quiet about the filthy cock drunk moans he could hear whilst on his way back from the bathroom with Johnny.

no back to ur Greek god thing w price and nik.. bonus points if they are in a lovers position that once held each other now separate far apart..

This.. is a different perspective that I haven’t thought about(and I love it.)

In my mind I was thinking they’d kind of be like The Creation of Adam and instead of their fingers touching they’d be reaching out with full force, one trying to protect the other from whatever wicked curse Zeus was about to cast on them. But now I really wanna scrap that original image and replace it with this one:

Before they were cursed they held onto each other feverishly, Nik holding John to his chest and cradling the back of his head while John wrapped his strong arms around Nik, one hand splayed across his back trying to keep him close while the other gripped his hair in a gentle yet powerful hold.

When they’re found, it takes every bit of mortal strength to pry the two off each other and put them in different locations, but eventually it was done and now the two are so close yet so far from being together.

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.

This might be a bit weird, but hear me out:

Greekgod!Price sneaking off to go see Castout!Nik during the night at the peach tree where the two lay at each other’s sides and tell stories of their weeks or past adventures, maybe sharing a kiss or two here and there before John has to go.

Greekgod!Price eventually being found out and being sentenced to death before being saved by Castout!Nik, the two falling through the clouds and into the mortal realm where they are found and cursed by Zeus, turning into marble statues in a rundown building where they are eventually found and placed in museum, destined to be together yet damned to be alone forever.

I feel like Nik has a tattoo of John’s name somewhere on his chest. Whether that be on his left tit, right tit, or smack dab in the middle, none of that matters to John when he’s kissing his husband’s torso and working his way down to the bulge in his pants.

I also feel like John has a tattoo of Nik’s name on his lower back just above his ass. Whenever the two are alone and he has his shirt off, Nik will trace the design gently with his left hand while the right is fondling his husband to the point of no return.

Nik has a CRAZY wind up for smacking ass when he and John are home alone. Nuclear shit that makes John Tom and Jerry scream /hj

He sees John bending over to grab something out of a cupboard and he locks in on his target with the focus of a sniper.

If John jumps and hits his head inside of the cabinet then he knows he'll have to buy dinner to win the Enlishman's favor, yet again but he won't regret it.

Somewhere out there, in the infinities that exist, there probably exists a version of John Price who hates himself for liking men. More than he ever does in this one. (Religious trauma btw)

He hates himself for loving Nik, for letting down his defenses in front of him. He watches the man slip through his office door, and the gap in his heart widen when the russian slips off his jacket.

He shouldn't be doing this. This is a sin against god. He could hear his father's boots getting closer somewhere in the background. The belt clinking echoes in his mind. He looks at the beau in front of him, all warm and inviting, yet disgust could only bloom in place of whatever romantic feelings he would have felt for him.

It felt wrong to enjoy the man's attention, to crave him so deep in his heart, he's afraid he can't tear it out and stop it. It feels like a crime against god, against his father, a man he could never compete with to let the man disarm him so easily. Dirt and sweat might not stick to his skin, but no amount of scrubbing under hot water could remove the disgust he feels for himself for even wanting Nik.

He doesn't look up at the pilot as he sits opposite him, talking about something irrelevant. John feels fucking dirty for even wanting Nik's eyes on him. What was he? A proper slut waiting to be appraised? He wants to set himself on fire, to remove his skin entirely, to be laid out under the sun, tortured, only if it means stopping the feelings he has for Nik. He wants to pray for forgiveness for a god that has long since abandoned him, and every second of smelling Nik's cologne so close to him only serves as a reminder that he was disgusting.

"Get out. For Christ sakes, get out"

He doesn't look up, his hands never stop as he writes and writes. A confession to some higher being, to cleanse him of all sin. A recycled prayer he heard from conversion camp years ago cycles through his head, the guilt all consuming in his heart. He deserves to rot in hell for his delusions, that Nik would ever like him back, that he would accept John for what he is. He ignores the confused russian muttering opposite him, focusing his attention on an uncaring god for cursing him with these feelings.

He doesn't look up as he hears the door close with a soft click after Nikolai.

Hours later, John sits alone in his office, halfway through a frantic prayer. A plea for help, a guidance to change his ways. The cross sits heavily across his chest, a reminder of his illogical feelings towards Nik. He thinks about what he's done, how it had all led up to this moment, his breaking. John doesn't move from his spot from the window, tears quietly streaming down his face as he mumbles out another prayer. His throat is sore and his knees are aching, yet the internalized disgust doesn't go away, nor does his feelings for Nik.

He avoids Nik the next month in a futile attempt to curb the feelings before they get out of hand. It doesn't work, and the longing for his the pilot's (when did he start to refer to Nik as his? Christ he must be cursed) attention only grows stronger each day he denies himself of Nik. His attention feels like a need now, an ever growing sense of guilt and shame blanketing over his need for Nik. The need only grows stronger when he sees Nik chatting up some guy years younger than him, unfamiliar jealousy grows in him as Nik ushers the man into his car, disappearing from view.

He would rather carve out his heart and serve it to god himself before ever admitting to wanting Nikolai in his life, in his bed though.

He most definitely did, if not more piercings God knows where.

okay so barry sloane had an eyebrow piercing in the early 2000s… do we think canonically young captain price had one too 👀

Personally, I'm like, pretty sure that Nikolai loves like a worshipper. To him, John is an ethereal being, someone that is above all laws of beauty. John is the closest thing Nik could devote to. Praises come to him naturally when they are about John, and he could map out John's body in his sleep.

He likes taking care of John, to know that his devotion is happy and well because of him personally. Nik likes grooming John in the bathroom, to have the Brit relax into his arms as he slowly trim his mutton chops (at least that's what I think it's called). He could only watch in silent adoration as John relaxes into the semi normal routine they have, his presence in Nik's kitchen seeming natural. Nik could barely fathom how he had gone so on without John next to him, for such times seem impossible now.

His devotion for John runs deeper than the ocean, and it seems like there is a never ending amount of things Nik could list off about John.

Laswell knows it, the rest of the team knows it, and it seems like only Price is the one oblivious to how much the other adores him. (He interacted with Alejandro for barely less than a day once, and even he knows how devoted Nik is to John). Something about waiting for so long for the man had translated into some form of utter adoration and devotion for him.

John, on the other hand, loves Nik to the point of creation and healing. I dunno how to put this into words, but I'm sure he cut down HEAVILY on drinking and smoking after knowing Nik. He loves the man, so much so that he wants to become a better person for Nik. To grow old and watch your partner grow old next to you seemed like some impossible dream almost a decade ago. And now he sits on the toilet as Nik helps him shave, the russian's movements almost graceful.

John has no doubts that Nik could be with anyone else in the world, with men better than him. But Nik is laying in John's bed, head tucked under John's chin and John finds himself hardly caring. Nik was with him, and that was more than enough.

He also writes little poems for Nik occasionally, words flowing onto the paper freely before he seals it with a kiss. He knows Nik has them hidden somewhere, the russian having said something about the letters being 'too precious for mortal's mind'. He likes tinkering with things, learning extremely useless and niche hobbies so that when winter rolls in, Price could make a sweater for Nik.