I Imagine That John Is A Patient Man In The Right Circumstances.

(Dragon Hybrid) Sergeant Price defends (Human) Captain MacMillan and damn near tears the face off a higher up for him putting his hands on his captain.

This is followed by hybrid detainees grabbing and tasing Sergeant Price until he was out cold before they chained him up and took him away to a holding cell until he woke up.

(I don’t have much for this, so if anyone wants to finish, BE MY GUEST!!)

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.

(More on the teenage Price thing because I suddenly have a whirlwind of ideas)

Back in the fake universe where John’s family wasn’t either dead or shitty, I feel like a teenage John Price had the most hardcore Emo phase ever. I’m talkin’ spiked jewelry, I’m talkin black on black on black, I’m talkin messy hairdos with the most coolest dyeing you’ve ever seen, and I’m talkin the most dirtiest rebellion phase ever.

His parents are heavily Catholic but try to be understanding about their children’s different perspectives and lifestyles and what not, but the day John came down for breakfast dressed in full Grunge attire, the table erupted in chaos.

“What’s on your face? Are those piercings Johnathan??”

“Why the spiky jewelry? A-And the skull on your shirt, is that satanic?”

“Who influenced you to do this lad? Tell me so I can drown them in holy water!”

John’s two older sisters(who found this to be hilarious), filmed the entire thing on a handheld camera, which now lives within Nik and Price’s shared apartment in a little box in their closet.

One night when the boys are over at Price’s place, they ask to see what their captain looked like young, and before he could object, Nik was already grabbing the box of memories and hooking the handheld camera up to the T.V.

(Add on)

I feel like at first, John wouldn’t pay Nik any mind. He got men like that who were entranced by him, and he’s not studdin’ any of them. He’s just there to make his money, get a few drinks, and leave until he’s needed again.

However, Nik is a persistent little shit and shows up to all of his performances, and everytime John spots him in the crowd the Russian gets a shit-eating grin on his face because he knows that he’s— slowly but surely— working his way into his the singer’s heart.

And work he does.

He’ll walk John to his car at night, offer him his umbrella(even though John probably has his own), buy him a few drinks, and defend him from any men who’re more.. grabby. And even though Nik knows that John is more than capable of defending or taking care of himself, he can’t help but get high off the small red tinge that graces the singer’s face whenever he does what he does, because it means that he’s slowly engraving himself spot in his life(and hopefully soon, his heart and soul).

(FancyEventSinger)Price performing at a very, very high end (and over priced) restaurant, the band switching from slow orchestras to upbeat jazz and the guests either conversing with one another or swaying to the music.

(MafiaBoss)Nikolai sitting at the bar and quietly sipping his whiskey while listening to the siren-like voice coming from the stage(if he were a sailor lost at sea, he’d surely be dead by now).

Nik stared at him as if he were in a trance, eyes longing, soul wanting, hands tapping against his glass, mind wondering if he could get the gorgeous performer to sing his name like a hymn.

He wanted him, and by all means he was going to get him.

Nik’s father always told him to never mix chemicals together because it could be deadly to himself and everyone around him, and God he wishes he’d listened to him instead of getting involved with a certain Captain from a certain TaskForce, because a small issue can lead into something big, and then they argue, and then they drink, and then they have drunken sex, and then they wake up with a headache in the morning.

“I hate you.” John grunts as Nik thrusts wildly in and out of him, brows furrowed and eyes hazy with lust and something dangerously close to spite. “Can never stop sleepin’ around.”

“Would not have to if you made time for me.” Nik responds with a bitter tone, which soon turns into a groan as he feels John clench around his length. “Ебать!”

“You prick. You know that I’ve tried, and when I do-“ He pauses with a whimper, feeling himself nearing his climax. “Y-You’re always-“

Suddenly, John’s body tenses up and he clamps his thighs around Nik as he comes, a filthy moan leaving his lips and strings of his release splattering on his stomach.

Nik doesn’t stop though, no. Instead, he goes harder and faster, overstimulating John’s senses to where he can only babble out “I hate you’s” and “Nik’s”, stars dancing in his vision as his prostate is assaulted over and over again.

“You hate me and yet you always end up here, in my bed beneath me.” Nik grunts as he stares down at John, shifting a bit to piston deeper into the Captain. “Why do you think that is, hm?”

John begins to get louder, eyes flying open and back arching as his body begins to tremble.

“If you hate me so much, why not get rid of me. Ignore me, ship me out to a different base, kill me.” Nik says, and John musters up the best frown he could and looks away. But Nik won’t have that and brackets the man’s head between his arms before leaning down so they could be eye to eye. “Look at me Johnathan. Look at me. Answer the question.”

And as their eyes met, Nik lets out a feral grunt before catching John’s lips in his own, tongues dancing and teeth clashing in the sloppiest way possible with Nik coming inside the Brit, who soon followed.

Soon, Nik pulls away and stares dead into John’s hazy blue eyes, a string of saliva still connecting the two. He then leans down and kisses his neck, working his way up to his ear and kissing the shell of it before grinning.

“Because you can’t.” The Russian says simply, and John can do nothing but let out a whimper as Nik flips him over on his knees and pushes his chest down to the mattress, face buried into the satin pillow case that laid on the bed as Nik began fucking him once more(and if they ended up cuddling right after and holding each other so tight that they could barely breathe, then sue them).

UGH, the boys finding out that they’ve got some of sergeant Price’s traits is so awesome sauce. Loved this!

The 141 looking at videos of younger price doing things they got in trouble for and got them yelled at by price

Keepsakes

___

"God, when was the last time he came here?"

"Long enough he doesn't want to bother cleaning this shit out himself," Ghost muttered as he shoves a facemask into Gaz's hands. The dust made it necessary.

Price finally made the decision to have his old storage unit cleaned out. He himself hadn't bothered to do anything yet, but he's convinced the boys to do some cleaning for him. He gave them a list of certain things he's looking for, then to their surprise Laswell did as well. Apparently it was a shared storage unit against Price’s will.

"There's the box Laswell told us to grab for her."

Most of the videos were in boxes marked by young agent Laswell, a clear warning not to touch them to a Lieutenant Price.

As they stuffed certain boxes into the van they arrived in, Soap found an old jacket. Not worn in years, SAS embroidered on it with Price's name proud on the breast. Soap shook the thing violently, to relieve it of any unwanted bugs and dust, before put it on. Almost a perfect fit.

"Hm, think he'll notice?"

Gaz snorts as he dares to open one of the boxes, "You're him made over."

Soap grins despite the sarcasm and starts posing, earning laughter from Gaz. Ghost rolled his eyes at him while he sorted through the boxes. He finally stops next to a particular box, kicking it lightly, "Nik box."

Soap and Gaz immediately dart over. Nik was precious with his mementos. Safe guarded them like a dragon. None of them saw anything he didn't want them to see, not picture or saved bullet casing. Not a single story unless he gives it up. Laswell and Price weren't so closed off and with start up a story from asking.

"Oh- What do you think is in it?"

Ghost lightly kicks the box again before he confidently says- "Nudes."

Soap gags and Gaz cackles.

"The head of his enemies. Or their di-"

"Stop," Soap grumbles as he pulls the box to the side with some of Laswell's.

There was something precious about how close they were, Price getting a storage unit only for Laswell and Nik to shove their own things inside without care. They didn't have any doubt the only protest from Price was only a bit of grumbling before he just let it happen.

“I think Nik wouldn’t let anything… unsavory be left where we could find it. There’s no way he would forget the location of anything sensitive.”

“What if, and hear me out, he’s forgotten with old age?” Ghost countered seriously, Gaz cackling in response.

Soap opens the box without hesitating another second. Ghost and Gaz whipped their heads around to stare as Soap pulls out a large book. It was a photo album with a slip of paper labelling the front. In Russian of course, just like the writing labelling the box.

“Alright, who’s been paying attention in Nik’s sort and somewhat weird lessons in Russian?”

Ghost stares hard at the photo albums front, truly concentrating as hard as he could. Gaz stared for a few seconds, eyes flickering to Ghost a few times, like he was waiting for him to reply. He didn’t, so Gaz did.

“I think it’s along the lines of ‘my sweet John’.”

Soap gags dramatically, “God, is it actually nudes?”

Ghost hums, “It’s not like we haven’t seen them naked before.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to see anything else beyond basic locker room shit.”

They were delaying, even though all of them desperately did want to know what was inside. But none of them made a move, just staring at the photo album while also eying each other. After a third minute of rather uneasy silence, Ghost sighs loudly before he grabs the photo album.

“Well, might as well. What’s one more piece of trauma?”

He unties the string keeping it closed, taking a step back before taking a deep breath, bracing himself. Soap and Gaz stared at him, waiting. So Ghost flipped open the album.

“Oh.”

Soap and Gaz shared a look before looking back at him, “Oh?”

Ghost flips a page, then another, before looking up, “They’re candids. A lot of them.”

Soap and Gaz finally look, and he was right. Each page was several pictures of a young Price just existing. Some of him napping in odd places, stuffing his face with questionable looking food, arguing with a young Laswell — He was just existing. And his behavior displayed in the photos were familiar.

“Johnny, weren’t you napping under the table the other day?”

“Weren’t you stuffing your fast with the shit you found in the back of the fridge?”

Gaz takes over the photo album, fondly looking at the pictures. Several photos, if not all, were taken clearly without Price’s knowing.

“Good to know Nik hasn’t lost any love,” the countless times Gaz has caught the man taking pictures of Price without the man knowing. He really wanted to know what his photo gallery looked like.

Suddenly, Soap gasps. Gaz looks up and Soap is holding a video camera, grinning madly.

“Sex tapes.”

“Simon!”

Gaz eagerly reaches for the camera, “Let me see!”

He saw the box it came from, labelled by Laswell. It was safe to look through… maybe.

He messes with the camera, laughing gleefully when it still turns on. Ah, they don’t make them like they used to.

“This is history!”

“And blackmail,” it was clear why Ghost was here. He never would pass up an opportunity to hold something over someone’s head, even the people who could make him disappear.

Gaz selects a video and starts playing it, watching the tiny screen intently. He wasn’t expecting to witness a past event of Price arguing with a currently unknown SAS officer, one that appeared to out rank him. He was cussing the man out with his full chest, and Gaz couldn’t help but look up at Soap.

“… what is it? I hear yelling.”

“I think we took after Price more than he realizes.”

Soap and Ghost were on either of Gaz now, watching the tiny screen with their chins on Gaz’s shoulders. Gaz played another video.

This one started with the camera facing a grinning Laswell, none of them could recall ever seeing such a mischievous look on her before. The camera switches over to show Price sitting on top of a cabinet with a guitar in his arms. He was clearly waiting for someone to come through the door by the cabinet.

“Do you know how many times he’s bitched at me for climbing on furniture-“

“Shh!”

Price was grinning at the camera and Laswell, and then an infamous figure they’ve all heard of but saw few photos of walked through the door. Captain MacMillan left his mark on Price, but clearly Price also left a mark on the man. Upon entering the room, he turns to say something to Laswell, then Price aggressively started playing the guitar.

“JONATHAN YOU CUNT-“

Laswell cackles as MacMillan grabs Price’s leg, dragging him from the cabinet. The camera cuts off right as the cabinet comes down with Price, the shock on his face blurred on the screen as the video ends. Gaz covered his mouth and Ghost leaned away. Soap chose to break the silence.

“I think he would throw us into a lake with bricks tied to our feet if we showed him this.”

“Clearly we make copies.”

They knew he was trouble in his youth, but this? Oh this was hypocrisy. And Laswell was in on some of it? Oh this was blackmail for sure. Ghost got what he wanted.

“Copies, Kyle. We need copies-“

Yes, they all were in on this. This was worth it.

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.

Imagining young Price being conflicted about his feelings for Nikolai and, to deal with these newfound and strange feelings, turns into a sassy, jerk-ish little shit that does everything in this power to push the Russian away(little does he know, said Russian can read him like a book and finds his actions endearing).

Goodness gracious.

Sorry for asking this question, but recently I really wanted to read something very sad (mmm... suffering ☺️) so I'm turning to you.

How would John react if he caught Nikolai with someone else? What would happen to their relationship then?👉👈

Oof. This one hurt.

cw: Nik cheats; I genuinely don't think he ever would, fyi. This was more an experiment in 'what if'. I thought about doing it from the perspective of 'they're not exclusive and Nik has had mixed messages', but I went for maximum pain.

Price had wanted to surprise Nik. Turn up at his hotel room, take him out, fall into bed for a bit, and then go pick up the kids from his sister's. The usual. He hadn't expected that day for his world to be ended by a pair of blue eyes and a jawline he could cut paracord with. Maybe ‘ended’ was a bit dramatic. Sure, it felt like it, but he had survived worse. He kept telling himself that. Over and over.

He'd never been one to cry, but he had blubbered like a baby behind the steering wheel of his Landie. The image of Nik with the blond in his arms, the hickie on his neck, kept circulating in his head like a taunt. It was there now as he stood in his office, Nik in the seat behind him, bright behind his eyes as he stared into space.

Price couldn't even look at him. When he did, he wanted to feel indignant rage, but all he felt was hurt. Misery. Betrayal. He needed his anger but all he wanted to do was cry more, and he no longer felt safe showing Nik that soft underbelly. He kept his face turned away.

“John, I…”

“I need t’ get tested,” Price said quietly, like Nik hadn't even spoken.

“I wore protection. I would not put you at risk of…”

“Really, Nik? Can I trust ya word on that?”

The words cut deep. Nik knew Price couldn't. It wasn't just their relationship he had discarded, but twenty years worth of implicit trust. The idea that Nik always had his back had vanished in a cloud of expensive cologne. Price lifted his left hand and ran his thumb over his wedding band.

“It was a mistake. I was foolish, I…”

“How many mistakes? Once, twice?”

“Twice.”

The knife sank just a little deeper. “So, you had to make sure then.”

“John…”

“Just him or have there been others?”

“No others.”

Price didn't respond. He just couldn't trust him. His thumb nail caught in one of the grooves of his wedding ring. Til death do us part. Did this count? It felt like death. His heart felt like it was about to give out any minute. “What did I do to deserve it?”

“You did nothing…”

There it was. The surge of rage. Price turned to look at Nik for the first time, his fists clenched and shaking. “Don't fuckin’ lie to me. No one shags some poxy bit on the side if they feel like they're eatin’ well at home. So what? What was it?”

Nik gazed up at Price with those warm brown eyes that had made Price fall in love with him. Had those eyes looked at the other bloke like that? Price felt his own prickle with tears again, but he made himself look.

Nik said nothing at first, and then his chin dropped as he sighed. “You are a brilliant father, a loving husband, but you are… busy.”

“Busy,” Price repeated, and he hated how his voice broke around the word. He turned away again, drew in a stuttering breath, the back of his wrist to his mouth.

“I made a… selfish choice. I…”

Price had taken a different role with the Army so they could have a family. Consultancy with a few away missions. It meant he commuted to base, but he could still do the bulk of domestic shit kids needed. He was busy. Busy building the life he thought Nik wanted. Perhaps they hadn't been intimate enough for a while, or…

“I will understand if you want a…” Nik swallowed, “...a divorce.”

“No,” Price said. “You ain't gettin’ off that easy. The kids need their dad, even if he's a lyin’, cheatin’ cunt. They don' need t’ know that. They worship you. And ‘m not doin’ the single father shit.”

“Then, how do we… what…”

“Open marriage. Can't trust ya not to do this again. You can shag who ya like, so can I. Wear protection, get tested every month. Kids don't see or get told any different. Then, when they've flown the nest, we sign the papers.”

Nik sat in stunned silence for a while. Price couldn't turn to look at him because a tear had escaped. The truth was the thought of being touched by anyone else disgusted him. He felt dirty now, like someone else’s dick had somehow touched him through Nik. Nik swallowed, and spoke finally. “I do not want anyone else.”

“At the moment. You jus’ got caught. Give yerself time.”

“John, please…”

“Is it the thought of someone else shaggin’ me, Nik? Is that what's hurtin’? Good. I hope it fuckin’ does.”

Fuck, he might just go and do it anyway. Find some random bloke at a club and let him go at it. Nik would see it, smell it. Maybe feel even a tiny shred of what Price did now. The thought of another man's hands on him made Price feel sick. He only wanted Nik’s. His heart broke all over again and more tears tracked down his cheeks.

“Then I would like to go to counseling,” Nik said.

“Whot for? So ya can get better at lyin’ t’ me?” Price asked, incredulous.

“We have another twelve years together. Maybe more. They do not need to be twelve years of suffering.”

“Shoulda thought of that before gettin’ yer dick wet in some twink.”

“Not for me, John. For you.”

“Get out my fuckin’ office before I decide collectin’ on your life insurance is a better shout.”

“John…”

“Now.”

The chair legs scraped as Nik stood. For a terrible second, Price felt his weight linger near. His entire body ached for those big arms to wrap around him, offer comfort to his broken heart, but he knew that act had been contaminated now. Poisoned. Nik had taken even that.

As the office door closed softly, Price managed to hold it together. The moment the footsteps had faded, he grabbed the chair Nik had been sitting in and threw it across the room. By the time he'd finished, his office looked like the CIA had been in to turn it over. He sat in the middle of it, his knees clutched to his chest, and sobbed until he was dry heaving.

He'd survived worse. But this was the first time in his life he'd wished it'd killed him.

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