I’ll Say This And Then Leave It, But Kendrick Lamar’s Performance Was Truly One For The Books. People

I’m so sorry I know Nik is a man of stamina but the first time he ever has Simon and John on their knees, together, eyes looking up at him, half lidded and dazed, mouths meeting for a dirty kiss over his cock?

He’s painting their faces with a pained groan, staring at the ceiling because if he looks down to see their mouths open, tongues out and coated in him, he’s going to have a heart attack

Then proceeds to listen to the other two share a kiss, all tongue and spit and Nik

Since it snowed Tuesday night, my school’s plans to make us go back today were foiled. Unluckily for us, they decided to give us online instruction, as well as a two hour delay tomorrow.

Now I’m sitting here trying to remember how to do a quadratic function and hoping my absence to my first period class won’t be counted.

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.

Imagine Nikolai and Price visiting America and being blown away at how much a lot of the resident yanks hate their own country. Like sure Laswell shit talks it a lot but half of the population? What a shocker.

What would be a bigger shock is the fact that most of the government’s “slip-ups” aren’t even new to Americans. Government raised taxes? Interesting. They’re slowly spiraling into another Great Depression? Survival of the fittest I guess. Government managed to lose another nuke? Must have been the wind.

“What a chaotic country.” Nikolai mutters as he reads the local newspaper.

“Well, America was never known for having a good government.” Price says as he gorges on a hotdog he got from an old street vendor. “Just freedom and good food.”

“Cheers to that.” Laswell says as she munches on her own hotdog.

I need to see a thing about John getting bent over his own desk and fucked dumb by Nik until he’s babbling nonsense and his legs are shaking while Nik whispers dirty degrading things in his ear.

Uhhhh John grabbing at Nik’s full hairy man tits while riding him uhmmmm and moaning like he owns them hmmmm Nik groping at John’s fat ass urmmmmmmm and grinning because he does own it uhhhhhhh..

Had to come back to this bc good Lord was this something.

Nik being strong enough to pick Price up when he's in a bad mood and just put him on the bench of his workshop.

Price is in air jail and now at the perfect height for when Nik tugs the zipper of his flight suit down to reveal that fluffy chest, those burly arms, that glorious belly and happy trail that leads to the weapon between his legs.

Honestly I don't think John could work those cargo pants off fast enough, maybe Nik forgoes that entirely and cuts a neat hole right in the crotch and rips to get at his prize.

Price is walking (Maybe a little bow-legged) out of there a hell of a lot happier than when he walked in.

The lads chip in for a nice takeaway for Nik for helping them out (Dealing with Price's shitty mood)

Nik uses his dick as a captain tamer.

cw: anal sex, mild brat taming, a little rough.

John’s temper was nothing new. Nik had experienced it in its various permutations through the years. It was like a hurricane; loud, destructive, and indiscriminate in the damage it caused, taking out friends and foes alike. But it eventually ran out of wind; surviving it was simply a case of moving out of its way until the inevitable conclusion. And, just like a storm, it wasn’t personal, but a natural byproduct of all the pressures and stresses weighing on John’s shoulders. He was only human.

Sometimes, however, the bad mood would fail to wear itself out and John would become more cantankerous as time wore on and his frustration built. If he was particularly tired, stressed, his body wound tight, feeding his brain a continuous flow of cortisol and catecholamines, then his grizzly mood was liable to last for days. A dark cloud hanging over the base and Task Force, suffocating.

It was day three this time and Nik’s patience had worn out. It was time to give the feral bastard what he needed. The lieutenant called it ‘a good seeing to’ and the sergeants, while not quite brave enough to say it to John’s face, said he was always a bit more human after he’d been stuffed with cock. Nik had worked out it was the act of having control stripped out of his hands, his mind emptied of all but pleasure, and his body flooded with endorphins from an orgasm. It stopped the spiral in its tracks. Even if it was only a reprieve to simply clear his head, it was often enough to give him the breathing room he needed to resolve the problem. He would deny it, of course, but John surrendered every time.

Nik finished the maintenance he’d been performing on the Black Hawk’s main rotary engine and washed his hands clean in the workshop sink, careful to remove the grease and grime from his cuticles. It was late. Most of the base had either retired to the barracks, gone home to their local residences, or headed out to the pub, but John was still here, huffing and growling over the laptop on the nearby workbench. “I can’t fuckin’ believe they’re takin’ Simon for another trainin’ seminar, puts him out for three fuckin’ days—“

Nik had invited him in to discuss some intel, citing his need to continue maintenance to stay on schedule as the reason for the location and, ever diligent, John had arrived on time with his laptop in tow, unknowingly sliding right into Nik's trap. Nik turned off the taps and returned briefly to his heli to dip into his duffle bag for the lube before he approached John at the bench. He slid his hands around John’s waist just as he closed his mouth beneath the hinge of his jaw, sucking a mark into soft skin.

“Ah, fuck, Nik—“ John went rigid in Nik’s hands, almost knocking the laptop off the workbench as he span to face him. “You randy bloody bastard, ‘ve got work t’ finish."

Those fierce blue eyes, the stern set of John's face, they would have struck quivering fear into the heart of many a man. But all Nik saw was the stress, the tension, the bone deep exhaustion, all locked up tight behind a safety valve that needed a practiced hand to release it. “Nyet, you are done for the evening.”

“Oh fuckin’ reall—“

He didn’t finish. Nik leaned forward and swept the laptop to the side, before grabbing John’s narrow hips and lifting him effortlessly onto the bench. He shoved his way between John’s knees, not letting him clam up, the expanse of one big hand staying at the base of John’s back to keep him from wriggling away.

John wrestled with him, fists bunching in his flight suit and shoving against his chest, their first kiss more teeth than tongue or lips. But as the heat of Nik's body enveloped him, their crotches pulled flush, chests together, John stopped thrashing in Nik's arms. Nik took it as the first defeat, drawing back to nuzzle John's beard.

"Lemme up, ya muppet."

"Nyet " Nik straightened a little, creating a gap between them even if he remained between John's legs.

"Nik," John growled his warning, but it was a hollow threat.

“You will do as you are told, captain. Good boys get rewards.”

Nik knew the low rumble of his voice, the manhandling, it stirred something primal and receptive in the back of John’s mind. He watched those bright baby blues widen before they dropped to Nik’s hand, following it like a hawk tracking a mouse as Nik grasped the zipper of his flight suit and tugged it down, deliberate in the glacial pace of its progress.

John’s mouth dropped open as curls of black chest hair emerged between parting metal teeth, Nik’s dusky nipples peaking in the cool air, and John’s greedy hands slid across the heat of newly revealed skin, following the firm contours of his tits. Nik leaned forward to kiss John’s neck again, encouraging his touch, and this time his captain relaxed, his legs spreading a little further apart as his hips tilted. He was begging to be fucked. Nik would take John here as planned, and then he would take him to his bed to exhaust him into complete surrender.

Nik tugged his flight suit open to its fullest extent, his cock arching up in readiness where he hadn't bothered with underwear knowing his intentions with John that evening. He popped a few of John's shirt buttons to kiss the furry perk of his pecs, smiling against John's skin as he squirmed, opening his belt and fly with practiced ease. "Oh, fuck, Nik, no, not here..."

"Da, here," Nik replied, listening to John's tone, his body, rather than his words; the way he gasped so desperately and arched into Nik's heat screamed please, please, please. He didn't resist when Nik slid his arms beneath his thighs and grasped his waistband, lifting his arse for a moment to yank his Carhartts and boxers down his thighs.

John hissed as his flushed skin settled back on the cold surface of the workbench, eager for the return of Nik's palms around the upper curve of his cheeks and the dip of his tailbone. John had an exquisite arse; firm, muscular and round. Perfect for bouncing on a cock. Nik kneaded the top of it as he nipped along the edge of John's jaw to his ear lobe, relishing the powerful body writhing enthusiastically in his arms. Who was Nik trying to kid? John was perfect in every way, even with his penchant for sulking.

Nik earned his first needy moan when he let the tip of his cock kiss the tight furl of John's hole, the slightest pressure rubbing his wet slit against the fluttering muscle in an insistent tease. He nuzzled John's beard as he fished the lube out of his pocket and flicked the lid off with his thumb. John's hands pushed beneath the fabric of his flight suit to grip his shoulders, one looping behind Nik's neck to play in the curls at the nape of his neck. John flinched when Nik squeezed the lube onto his balls, the tube clattering on the workbench when it was cast aside. "Bastard..."

Nik smirked, smoothing warm fingers gently down the seam of John's sac to his taint, circling, teasing his rim with little tugs at the opening. When the first finger dipped inside, Nik swallowed John's groan with a kiss, tongue licking into his mouth when it fell open in a shock of pleasure. John didn't need much coaxing, his body opening eagerly around one and then two probing fingers. Nik crooked them up, John's cock flicking as Nik's fingertips rubbed over his prostate. John panted, his head falling back, the filthy noise of Nik's fingers squelching into his hole accented by his soft whimpers. Blunt fingernails dug into Nik's skin as John clung to him, his leaking cock fully hard against the unblemished milky softness of his inner thigh.

"Ah, ah, Nik... Mm, fuck... Ah..."

"Da, solnyshko. Just a little more and I will give you what you need."

Nik could make John come like this, but his balls ached and there was only one place he wanted to empty them; to watch John unspool on his cock was a privilege he deserved. He pulled his fingers out slowly, his thumb tugging down at John's slick, puffy hole as he smeared lube and precum over his crown and down his shaft, tongue between his teeth as he groaned at the sweet anticipation of what awaited. He was so hard, cock throbbing in his grip, balls already tight, and he took a moment to steady himself before sliding his arms beneath John's thighs again, John's booted feet dangling either side of his back, his trousers bunch just shy of his knees.

His fingers pressed into the flesh of John's hips to keep him still as he ground the tip of his cock over the slick skin of John's taint, lower lip between his teeth as John shivered in his grasp, hips tilting again, urging, begging with his body. Nik's tip notched against his hole and Nik held him firm as he thrust inside, John's body gaping wide around the flare of his crown and thick shaft. John quaked in his arms, thighs trembling, his soft, tortured noises nursing a primal delight deep inside Nik's chest.

Nik kept going, sinking into John's body, inch by aching inch, even as it bore down around him in desperation.

"Fuck, Nik, Nik!"

"Da, my love. Surrender to me as you yearn to..."

It wasn't simply the act of sex. Penetration itself was not surrender and John had ridden Nik's cock from above many times, in complete control as Nik ceded, leaning back into the pillows with his eyes closed. But this act, of letting the tension and frustration melt from his body, of giving in to the pleasure of sex with a man who knew how to pluck every string, of finally letting his mind empty and his muscles relax. That was surrender.

Nik pressed deeper, achingly slow, clutching heat struggling with the girth and length. Every time John's channel fluttered, pulsing between relaxing and gripping, Nik seized more ground. John's eyes rolled back as Nik nestled in his guts and finally bottomed out with a satisfied groan, John's stretched hole pressed against the dark curls of his pubic hair. Nik kissed trembling, spit slick lips, rocking gently, staying deep as he hollowed out his place in John's body. "Mm, detka. You are so tight. Relax, breathe..."

"Nik, ah, fuck, Nik. I'so much, hng."

"Ssh, I know, but you are... mm, taking me so well. All you have to do is let go."

Nik didn't give him any choice. He drew out until John's body sucked on his tip, clenching around it in greedy throbs, before he thrust his full length back in. John bit out a soft, startled cry, back arching as his nails bit into Nik's shoulders. Nik leaned into his lover's neck, the downy curls of his chest hair pressing to the warm swells of his firm chest as he clutched his hips tight to pull them into his cock. The next thrust was just as firm, just as demanding, shaking the table on which John sat.

Nik picked up a bruising pace, forcing John's body into submission with each deep thrust, wet skin slapping wetly as the table rattled under the force of Nik's hips pounding against John's arse. John clung to him, unable to find purchase anywhere but Nik's shoulders as he was fucked hard, Nik's palms providing a softer cushion for him to be pressed into, keeping him from being shoved away so that he was made to take every thrust to the hilt at an angle that sent relentless curls of pleasure arcing up the length of his body.

John shook apart so beautifully, his first orgasm was dry, triggered purely by the insistent, relentless drag of Nik's cock over his prostate. Nik felt the first tremors of it and leaned in to coach him through with whispered encouragement, "da, John, such a good boy, let it happen..."

John's body milked him in tight pulses and Nik watched in awe as John's pleasure unspooled through him, his limbs shaking, broad chest heaving in rattling breaths through loud, high-pitched whines, completely overwhelmed at the full body experience of coming on Nik's cock. It was like a molten heat that burned away the last of the tension and left him pliant and open in Nik's arms.

John's hole relaxed, sloppy with lube and wells of precum, the perfect sheath for Nik's cock, still sucking hungrily on Nik's length every time he withdrew before slamming back inside. Nik chased his high, growling into John's neck, nipping at his hammering pulse to taste the sweat on his skin. His climax crept up his spine, a vine of tension pulling him tight, and he nipped John's ear. "Touch yourself, detka."

John grabbed his cock obediently, pumping down its slick length in furious jerks that matched Nik's pace, his moans reaching a crescendo as he was trapped between two pleasure centres. Nik felt John tighten again, another orgasm, and it teased him over into his own. His hips jerked, stuttering against John's arse, as his cock pulsed its first load deep in John's body. John followed him over the brink, the flood of heat inside him making his eyes roll back as his cock painted his hand and shirt in thick ropes of cum as he was filled with it.

Nik's vision greyed, the force of his own pleasure leaving him breathless as his cock twitched in John's channel. He hadn't realised how pent up he'd been, his balls offering a seemingly endless breeding. He panted hot breaths against John's skin, the tip of his nose resting in the bristles of his beard, lips placing soft, fleeting kisses as his body finally finished. When he finally gathered enough coordination to draw out, the filthy noise of his cock withdrawing made him growl with pleasure, his seed welling at John's hole to drip down the curve of his arse to the floor.

When he lowered John's feet, his legs shook, and he lifted him off the table by the hips. "Go to your room. When I get there, I expect to find you naked in bed," Nik said.

John might have argued if he hadn't been completely spaced, his eyes soft in post-orgasmic bliss. Nik helped him right his belt and trousers and then watched him hobble out of the workshop. Once his captain had disappeared from sight, Nik turned his attention to tidying his tools, a little jelly-legged as he strolled about his workshop.

Nik would find John showered and snoozing, naked and warm beneath his blankets, about an hour later. He washed himself, removing the grime and sweat of the workshop, and slipped in beside him to rub his back and shoulders. John roused slowly, content to let Nik ease his aches, legs spreading when those strong fingers slid between them for a second round, his hole buttery soft, eager for Nik's touch. He was impossible to resist.

Imagining a 15 year old John Price coming home from school and seeing his father passed out on the floor in his own vomit and thinking, “Not again” before getting a towel to clean it and propping him up against the couch before going to do his homework.

An hour later when he comes back down to get a snack(aka: whatever he could find in the cupboards), he notices that his father hadn’t moved an inch and goes to check on him, crouching beside the man and grabbing his face.

That’s when he notices the blueish gray hue on his face and the fact that he’s not taking his deep, rattling breaths like usual, and soon he comes to the realization that Johnathan Price Sr. is dead.

His father is dead.

I don’t think he cries. Not for a good while. Instead, I think he just sits and stares at his father’s corpse with varying expressions shifting from anger to despair, to resentment, and even to one of pity.

I also think he yells at his father. Shouting profanities and things like, “I hope you rot in hell!”, or “So you think you can just leave and take the easy way out?! Drunken asshole!”

And once he’s gotten it all out of his system, then and only then does he allow himself to breakdown and cry, clutching his father’s hand to his forehead and squeezing it tight because— he was the only person he had left, even if he was a drunk who beat him over the head with a belt because his mom’s death was his fault. And now he’s gone.

And Johnathan’s alone.

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.

In another universe where John has an amazing family(no drunk dads allowed!) he brings Nik over for the holidays and boy oh boy do they stuff that man with food. I’m talkin’ ham, rolls, gravy, whatever you can think of(and Nik being Nik, of course he’s gonna get down).

“Johnathan, do you not feed this man? He’s practically bone!” His grandma says as she fills Nik’s plate up with another round of turkey and gravy.

“Nana, he’s well fed. We cook together every night.” John says with a cocked eyebrow and a sly grin, glancing over at Nik who’s busy trying not to choke on the rolls his aunt was feeding him. “Goodness, don’t kill him auntie Julie!”

“I’m not trying to!” His aunt exclaims as she pats Nik on the back. “Just tryna fatten him up is all.”

“I am— appreciative.” Nik says as he scarfs down the last of the rolls, cheeks flushing as John reaches over to wipe the corners of his mouth. “But trust, I eat enough with my husband. He fattens me up every chance he can get.”

John nods at this.

Suddenly, one of John’s nieces looks up at the two of them and grins widely.

“When are you having kids? I want a cousin!”

The table erupts into commotion. John and Nik blank out for the rest of the evening.