Holy Shit, I Need To Get Back Into Writing😥

Back on my Gardner Price bullshit BUT!

I think Price has mad succulents. Like, I’m talking the prickly ones, the short stubby ones, the long ones, the ones that you don’t even know what is. And sure he likes a pretty flower once in a while, but if you were to step in his apartment you’d see vases upon vases of different exotic plants placed near windows where the sun shined just right for them to grow.

He even has books and journals on which plants are which and what plant needs what to survive.

Nik helps him water them every morning, filling the watering can and spray bottle and spritzing the leaves before watering the soil. On a good summer of spring day they’ll set them outside to catch some proper sun, and maybe Price’ll repot a few while he’s out there.

(Nik’s favorite activity is watching his husband talk to each plant as he cares for them, making sure to be extra gentle with their leaves or stems. They’re his babies!)

Nikolai and Price going to the gym together and working on either legs or back muscles.

Price is focused on his squats, finishing sets quickly and stopping to take a short break before going back to the barbell to finish up.

Nik isn’t so focused on what he’s doing though. Instead, he’s watching the way those tight shorts hug his the captain’s thighs and arse, and the way they stretch whenever Price goes down for a squat.

Damn it, he was getting a boner.

As his mind started to wander a little further than what it should be, he snaps out of his trance just in time to see Price struggle a bit with the newly weight added, stumbling just a tad.

Nik immediately gets behind him to help steady the bar up so he could finish his last set.

“I got you. Take it slow.”

Nik watched as Price huffed before slowly going down again, ass almost pressing up against Nik’s crotch before moving.

That pattern repeats about five more times before he finishes and slowly walks the bar back over to the rack.

“Bloody hell.” Price huffs, wiping sweat from his forehead and taking a swig of water. “My legs feel weak.”

Nik just stared at him as he ranted, eyes never leaving the fat swell of his ass until Price noticed and popped him with his towel.

“Eyes up here perv.”

“They are.”

“I can’t bloody tell with the wood yer’ sportin’.”

It was then that Nik realized that his boner had intensified and grew into a noticeable tint.

“Will you help me with it?”

Price popped him again with the towel before grabbing his stuff and walking away, hips purposefully swaying in the way they did when he was being an asshole.

“Maybe.”

Nik bit back a grunt at that and gathered his things quickly before following after his lover, determined to get a piece of what Price was advertising.

This.

I need to see Nikolai beat someone up all bloody while furiously swearing in all 8 languages he knows

I imagine that John is a patient man in the right circumstances.

Waiting in line for a coffee? Cool.

Waiting for a pot of water to start boiling? Alright.

Waiting for an enemy to come around the corner so he could take them out? Thrilling.

He’s more patient with everyday things. But the first time he orders something online and has to wait for what feels like 30 to 40 business days? He damn near goes insane.

It takes all of Nik’s mental strength to endure John talking about the package damn near everyday, and even more physical strength to keep him from ripping the front door off its hinges once it finally arrives. Nik hopes that it’s a letter from the damn President, but it’s not.

No, instead it’s a chicken timer.

A chicken timer that clucks.

And John is pleased with himself.

Very pleased.

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).

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.

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.

This is just.. *chef’s kiss*🤌🏾🤌🏾

messing around with simon's face again...

If Price were an insect, I’d think he’d be a moth of some sort. Like, the fluffy ones with the big fluffy bodies and the large wings and huge eyes that you can stare into. And he’d snuggle up close to the stem of a succulent plant and sleep there because it has good shade.

If Nik were an insect, I think he’d be a big ass beetle. And not the ones with the round bodies and round heads, but the ones with the horns on their faces and spikes shooting from their torsos, and the semi-long legs that can’t quite move as fast but will get there with enough wrath and mischief. He’d snuggle beside a fluffymoth!Price, right under a huge fluffy wing, and go to sleep in the pot of that weird succulent plant.

cw: omegaverse, state coercion.

I've been slowly chipping away at an omegaverse thing alongside the Mafia AU (which I'm hoping to publish chapter 2 of by the end of the week, I just got in my head about it).

Price stared at the yellow envelope on his desk and felt nothing but numb resignation. He had known it was coming. Mac had called him into his office a week ago to inform him that the military exemption was being withdrawn, that restrictions on suppressants were coming. There was nothing he could do. Parliament had voted, the people had spoken.

Sorry, John. Really. Mac's face had been pinched.

He tapped his biro on the side of his calf, shifting his ankle across his knee as he turned a little closer. Needed to open it. Letting it marinate a little longer inside the envelope wasn't going to change the ink on the page. No matter how much he willed it to.

The biro clattered across the desk as he cast it aside and snatched the letter up. He had mentally prepared for it, but that didn't stop each word feeling like a punch in the throat.

“Dear Cpt. John Michael Price VC CGC DSO,

We are writing to inform you about the formal end to the military exemption under Article 4 Paragraph 3 of the Public Order and Welfare Act as of the 22nd April 2023. Following the repeal of the…”

His gaze blurred. His list of medals at the end felt like an added slap in the face. At least they had used his rank. He took a deep breath and forced his eyes to refocus a little further down, skipping the waffle about the democratic vote that had stripped him of his rights and dignity.

“...you will be required to mate formally within six months of the end of your exemption. If, for whatever reason, you remain unbonded by 22nd October 2023, your time in service will be concluded with full pension, and you will be retired to a pack house for further care.”

There are parts of it that are so hard to write. Like Nik wrestling with his happiness, almost sickened by it, because he finally has John but he can never be sure it's real because John's hand was forced, and John trying to prevent his resentment from spilling over onto a man that has only ever been loyal, patient and respectful. And not wanting to write Price 'giving in', but trying to find some kind of balance, some happiness, in a situation they're forced into.

This may never see the light of day. It certainly won't arrive before the Mafia AU is done. But... Yeah, I'm suffering.