Hehe, The Last Part Made Me Giggle🤭

It’s around 6 when Nikolai gets back to his cabin from hunting, setting his boots down by the front door and calling out to his husband, John, who was in the living room watching TV.

Getting no response, Nik just chuckles and sheds his coat before walking into the living room and bending over the couch to kiss the side John’s temple, cold skin meeting his lips.

“You are freezing my love.” He says softly, grabbing a blanket and draping it over his chest. “It is below thirty degrees. You should wrap up.”

Still getting no response, Nik just huffs softly before going to shower and changing into something more comfortable, stopping by the kitchen on his way back to the living room to grab some tea for the two of them.

“Your favorite.” He says quietly, setting the mug down in John’s stiff hands and settling beside him. “Do not drink too fast, it is fresh from kettle.”

Still, no response.

Nik glances at his husband with a soft expression, noticing the bags under his eyes and the slight sluggishness to his posture.

“You are sleepy.” He says, and John’s body slumps over onto Nik’s, causing him to laugh. “You need rest dear.”

Just as he said that, John’s phone lit up even more missed calls and unread messages from his team, Laswell, and MacMillan, to which Nik just frowned and turned it over, muttering something about how they ‘always interrupt them’ and how they should ‘leave them alone’.

Soon, Nik gets sleepy too and rests his head atop John’s, not minding the sticky wet feeling on his cheek as he wrapped a big arm around his husband’s back, pulling him closer to his chest.

“Sleep well my love.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to John’s cold forehead before turning off the missing person’s report on the TV and going to sleep.

Ik Price is a dominant leadership figure(he is Captain after all), but what if someone just broke all that down and made him submissive? And if not a soft sub, then sassy sub?

I could see that.

He’d be running his mouth while getting railed and eventually get his world rocked so hard that he’s babbling straight nonsense. Put in so many positions yet never turned loose for a singular second.

..I need some sleep.

John Price who's tired after missions.

John Price who strips his gear haphazardly and slides on his last clean shirt and sweatpants.

John Price who rubs his face dramatically, huffs, and ignores the after action report he needs to finish up.

John Price who collapses on to the couch in his office, sprawled out on the thing that's almost too small for him.

John Price who doses off right then and there, not caring an ounce for his comfort otherwise.

John Price who barely cracks an eye open when the door to his office drifts open, the warm light from the hall seeping into the dark room, and a particularly exhausted Sergeant enters.

John Price who closes his eyes and just opens his arms, accepting the weight of one Kyle Garrick on top of him, wrapping his arms around the man.

John Price who breaths in time with Gaz as the smaller man shoves his nose into John's shoulder, to which John sighs contentedly.

John Price who doesn't open his eyes when the door cracks open again and the familiar presence of one sleepy Scotsman shoves his way onto the couch next to them, somehow, impossibly, perfectly. The warmth of one John Mactavish burrowing into his side.

John Price who moves his arm so that one is around Gaz and the other is around Soap, sprawled and wrapped into each other on the couch that's definitely too small for them.

John Price who hardly notices when the door opens again, and one silently tired Lieutenant sits on the floor, leaning back against the couch.

John Price who reaches over, gives the man's shoulder one good squeeze, and his hand is caught in the callused fingers of one Simon Riley.

John Price whose eyes scrunch in a smile when his hand is graced with one gentle press of lips before it's released.

John Price who sleeps warm and comfortable in his pile.

John Price who's tired after missions,

but never too tired for his boys.

John Price who eventually snores but all of them are too exhausted to move and are undeniably comforted by the noise anyway.

Might have to go M.I.A in a few weeks bc UNFORTUNATELY I’m trying to be the responsible 19 year old I am and study for these fuckass exams..

I haven’t had any ideas as of late(likely due to stress), but I’ll try to pump out a few tibbits before splitting for a couple of days.

So you just gonna shoot me 57 times huh? Alright, that’s cool.

The day Mac dies, John doesn't lose it like everyone expects of him. He gets the call, it was a car accident that killed him, MacMillan died on impact and he didn't suffer. There were no flashing memories in his mind, no thoughts of those he'd leave, he had no time to think about the end of his life before it met him.

John doesn't drink, he doesn't scream and he doesn't pick a fight. He continues on about his day as usual. He isn't detached, he's fully present and he continues on as his day was planned because people die every day. Mac isn't special, nor would he wish to be treated like he was.

He's fine, it's shitty but he's fine.

And then three days after the call he nips into Tesco, needs to buy some cat food and find a pack of cheap lighters because he lost his last week. That's when he sees them, standing in the biscuit aisle, he looks at a packet of Tunnock's Caramel Wafers and something in his crumbles. Because those were Mac's biscuit of choice.

The Scotsman would have one every day when it was possible and he'd offer John one every day despite the fact that John has never liked them and Mac knew that. he just did it to be an arse.

Those were Mac's biscuits but Mac is dead and suddenly years of John's life seem meaningless as he stands there in an aisle in Tesco because the man whose face featured so often in his memories is one of a man whose body is now in a casket.

John wonders briefly if grief is a being that he can not see because he can feel the hand that cracks his ribcage to reach into his chest and maul at his heart.

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

He’d fucked up.

He’d fucked up by thinking he could love, by thinking he could actually have something so warm and soft in his big calloused hands, by thinking he’d be able to shield and protect the soul that’d been bound to his ever since he met the man who carried it in a bar after a botched mission.

He fucked up when he let the man’s oblivious and quick-witted charm work its way into his— what he thought was dead— heart, when he got his contact info and the two stayed on the phone from dusk to dawn seven days a week.

He fucked up when he showed his helicopter to him for the first time, let a sliver of himself and his passions show to the blue eyed brit and almost burst with happiness when it was accepted and praised instead of shunned.

He fucked up sticking around for so many years and getting to know the man inside and out; what made him tick, what expression or gesture meant what emotion, what he liked and disliked, what got him to sing his name like a praise,. It was all a mistake.

Because now, here he was with that same man’s upper body cradled to his torso and his head pressed into his chest, hands desperately trying to hold together his temple and put back pieces of his skull which was splattered on what felt like every surface it could reach.

“Милый. Мой мир».” Nik muttered, voice uncharacteristically shaky and pained as he pressed his forehead to John’s. “Мне очень жаль. Джонатан, прости меня.”

Blue eyes stared up at him in response, though where they once held light, now held a cold dullness.

He’d fucked up by opening his heart, especially with the enemies he’s made throughout the years. And now, he’s forced to live with the consequences of daring to bring something precious into the cruel reality.

This is just.. *chef’s kiss*🤌🏾🤌🏾

messing around with simon's face again...

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).

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.