During The Few Months That The Two Get To Know Each Other, (MafiaBoss)Nik Begins To Notice A Few Things

Say if Price got injured and was sent to the ER to get fixed up and the moment he comes out of surgery he’s loopy and muttering nonsense.

His boys come to visit him first, and damn if they don’t take the many advantages that their loopy captain gives them. Johnny draws on his cast, Kyle bribes him for the rest of his sweets in his office, and Simon gets him to sign off on letting him skip recruit-training.

Next is Laswell and her wife Sarah. The two make sure he’s comfortable before teasing him, and John just lets it happen, brain too muddled to come up with his usual sassy retort.

Last is Nikolai.

The man walks in quietly and takes a look at his husband before looking around the room and noticing the little trinkets and things that his boys and their friends had left around the room(as well as the many penises that were on his cast). He then takes a seat beside John and grabs his hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss..

That was until he felt the hand get snatched away and slapped softly across his face.

“Johnathan?” Nik asks with mild surprise, eyes rising to meet a glaring, upset John Price.

“Don’t do that.” The man says with a frown, glaring daggers at Nik. “I have a man, and he’s my husband, and we’re married. ‘M a taken man.”

Oh. The doctors gave him some more pain medicine before he got here. Explains a lot.

“My apologies.” Nik said as he backed off a bit with his hands raised a bit, deciding to feed into his husband’s loopy thought process. “Didn’t know you had a significant other.”

“Yeah I do.” John says with a roll of his eyes. “Bes’ damn husband a man could ask for.”

“Mhm, and how so?”

“He helps me cook, clean, loves me lots n’ lots, always helps with missions, loves my boys like their his own. What more could a person wish for when they have the perfect man by their side?”

“True. But doesn’t he irritate you sometimes?”

“Impossible. He only irritates me when he’s not taking some time for himself like he should be. Military work is hard, y’know?”

“Understandable. And what is your favorite thing about your husband?”

“My favorite thing..” John paused for a bit, sighing softly as he seemed to sink lower into the hospital bed. “His hugs. He’s big and broad, so when he hugs you it’s like a blanket draping itself over you. He makes me feel warm when he does hug me, like everything will be okay.”

The room goes quiet for a bit as Nik contemplates John’s words, melting at the way that his husband seemed to have melted when describing him. Suddenly, John added another comment.

“It makes me want to open his skin and crawl inside of it. Like Venom.”

Nik bursts out laughing at that, happy that he managed to get all of that on video to show the boys and Laswell later.

(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?

Nik likes to fuck with Price by putting his hands up the back of his shirt and touching him with his freezing cold hands(this earns him an ass-whooping, but he’ll do it again).

Hey, bud. I hope you have a fantastic new year! It's so great to see you writing for Nikprice, and I have a damn backlog to get through, don't I? Keep writing, keep creating. Stay safe.

Literally fell out of my bed at this because— I just won one of the hardest games on Roblox and all of a sudden one of my favorite NikPrice bloggers sends me this and tells me to have a fantastic new year?? Either the universe is favoring me or something bad’s about to happen in 0.2 seconds.

Either way, this made my entire afternoon and now I’m gonna go brag to my roommate about the gold I just received.

Have an amazing New Year’s Eve and an even better New Year, and stay plenties of safe out there!

(P.S: A little something I did on Pinterest)

I’m getting into working out(yes this late, LEAVE ME ALONE!!) and goodness gracious, why didn’t anyone tell me how taxing running is??

I started off strong; did four and a half laps, and then all of a sudden my thighs start to sting..

…

WHAT??

Why are my thighs stinging?? I’m in marching band, I do weightlifting, and my thighs are stinging? So I walked for a while, and then seated jogging again.

..

I did about two laps before walking again.

So uhm.. point of this little rant is that if anyone has any advice on how to jog, it will be much appreciated.

..might delete this later idk. Seems kinda rushed to me but I had the idea so I gotta get it out🤷🏾‍♀️

Imagining Price and Nik lying on the floor of Nik’s bird and sharing a cigarette during a mission gone to hell.

The team’s dead. First it was Johnny who took a bullet to the temple, and then Ghost and Gaz followed soon after. Price can still recall the sergeant’s dull brown eyes staring at him across the field, and he wishes to burn that memory out of his mind forever. Luckily for him, forever seemed to be right around the corner as a grenade went off just a few inches away from their “hideout”, rattling it a bit and fucking up the tail’s blades.

As bullets cracked at the windows and bounced off the interior, Price looks over at Nik and passes him the cigarette, to which the Russian gingerly plucks it from his hand and takes a long drag, eyes closing for a split second before opening again as he passed off the dwindling cancer stick back to the Captain.

“I’m sorry.” John says after a long beat of silence, not daring at glance in Nik’s direction as the man looked over at him. “Just thought you should know that.”

Nik eyes John for a bit before looking back up at the crumbling roof of his helicopter.

“I do.” He mutters. “Yet I do not know what for.”

John huffs a humorless chuckle and finishes the cigarette before stamping out the butt and flicking it away. “Course’ you don’t.”

The two lay there for a good few minutes after, unspoken words passing between them as the gunfire continues. Suddenly, a grenade is tossed into the broken window of the helicopter and the two look at it before looking at each other.

“Johnathan.” Nik muttered, grasping his hand tightly as he stared into those bright blue eyes. “We will meet again. I will find you, and we will be happy.”

John just stared at Nik helplessly before nodding, a small smile gracing his lips as he held Nik’s hand tighter. “Oka-”

In a flash, the bird erupted into flames and smoke, chunks of metals and bodies and papers flying everywhere until all that was left was the burning aftermath.

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.

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.

John just loves older men with long hair🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️ who can blame him😏

If Nikolai is at home he'll let his hair airdry whenever he washes it because he has no reason not to and whenever he does it curls at the ends. Like really curls at the ends until it's brushing up against his ears.

It drives John's insane. He's never so badly wanted to run his hands through someone's hair and he refuses to mention how much it's grown in hopes that eventually, it'll be long enough for Nik to put up.

Nikolai might be the one putting his hair up but John will be the one hitting his knees.

*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.