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sapphireginger · 7 months

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Title: Paw Patrol - Chapter #15

Summary:

The twins cheered and urged Nia to come with them. She followed, still confused but after a glance at her daddy who smiled reassuringly, Nia ran to catch up with the twins, the three of them sneaking behind a tree. “What are they up to?” Peter asked Stiles. Said man grinned and tossed Peter a wink. “You’ll see.” Not even five minutes later, two little tiger cubs came tumbling out from behind the tree and to Peter’s utter shock—“Pup?” he whispered. The little wolf pup woofed and let out a little howl before running over to her daddy. She licked at his face and pawed at his chest.

Prompt: Mating

Warnings:

None

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Steter [Stiles Stilinski + Peter Hale]

Word Count: 2,668

@mfbingo

It was safe to say that after a week or two or well maybe a week or three, that both dads felt more at ease about their relationship blossoming. Peter decided that instead of picking something solely for Stiles as his gift of court, he would choose something for all three of the Stilinskis.

That was how all five of them ended up in the park on a sunny but cool Saturday afternoon with plans to go swimming after they ate. They had a picnic with so many goodies to munch on. They all settled on a blue and red picnic blanket that Peter had chosen after Nia told him Cas adored blue and Reyn adored red. If the way Stiles’s scent shifted to pleased was any indication, then the wolf had done well.

Peter puffed out his chest in pride, preening at the way Stiles smiled and didn’t care one bit that he made the other man laugh with the action. He’d give anything to hear that laugh again for the rest of his life.

“Daddy?” Reyn said. He and Cas were barely able to sit still with how excited they were.

Stiles quirked a brow and waited until they settled. “Yes?”

Cas smiled sweetly. “Can we show Nia?”

“Pleaaaaaaase?” they pleaded.

Nia perked up, her nose scrunching up and glanced at Stiles. “Show me what, Mr. Tinski?”

With a soft sigh and a fond smile, Stiles nodded. “Go ahead.” His eyes briefly flashed, and Peter felt a sense of calm settle over them as well as a layer of magic, but he wasn’t the least bit afraid. Stiles was definitely powerful and not to be underestimated but Peter did not fear him like he had before.

“What are they up to?” Peter asked Stiles.

Said man grinned and tossed Peter a wink. “You’ll see.”

Not even five minutes later, two little tiger cubs came tumbling out from behind the tree and to Peter’s utter shock—“Pup?” he whispered.

The little wolf pup woofed and let out a little howl before running over to her daddy. She licked at his face and pawed at his chest.

Peter couldn’t hold back his tears. “H-How?”

Stiles smiled softly and cleared his throat, making Peter glance over at him. The tiger spark’s cheeks were pink, and his scent had an undercurrent of nerves to it. “I-I thought I would offer it as a gift. I know that it’s special and I hope I didn’t overstep.”

The wolf started to cry and shook his head. “No. No, not at all.” He watched the wolf pup, watched his daughter, tumble off of his lap and scramble to play with the twins. He sighed wistfully, wishing he himself could still shift but he hadn’t done so in years.

Perhaps Stiles read his mind or maybe he had already intended to offer such a thing but between one moment and the next, Peter felt his body tense and then it seemed to liquify before he found himself standing on four legs instead of two.

A soft rumble reached the wolf’s ears and when he looked over to where Stiles had been sitting, he was shocked to see a tiger instead. The rumble grew louder but Peter knew it was more of a purr. Slowly he walked over to the other supe, unaware that the three little ones had stopped to watch.

After a cautious scenting, the two adults smiled and relaxed. Then, Stiles decided to grace Peter with a lick from his snout to his ears. The wolf huffed and narrowed his eyes before pouncing. They rolled around together, play fighting as easy as breathing, eliciting two small roars and a soft howl before the kids joined in.

If anyone had been able to see the five supes they would’ve found themselves gazing upon two cubs, a wolf pup, an alpha wolf and a tiger spark playing as one big family in their full shifts. It was indeed a sight to behold and neither adult could believe they got to have this after all they had lost. Now that they had it though, they would hold tight to it with everything they had.

✶ 🐺 🐾 ❤︎ 🐾 🐯 ✶

Though the day at the park had been Peter’s idea and his gift, Stiles had offered a small gift as well. Therefore, when Stiles revealed that his gift would be a sleepover and movie night, Peter made sure he had something to offer as well. He liked the idea of a joint gifting just as much as a single gifting.

After a little convincing, the dads agreed to the movies chosen by the kids. After all, they didn’t really mind what movie they watched as long as they got to watch it together, as long as they got to watch it as a family.

Thus, they all curled up together and watched both versions of the Parent Trap. They started with the Hayley Mills version that was released in 1961 and then watched the Lindsay Lohan version that was released in 1998.

About halfway through the first movie, Peter and Stiles noticed that their kids were acting a little odd but didn’t think much of it until the same thing occurred halfway through the second movie.

“All right,” Stiles said. “What’s going on with you three?”

The twins shrugged and then Reyn pointed to the tv where Annie and Hallie were going over details about their houses. “We tried to do that.”

Cas nodded. “And that.”

“That too!” Nia said with a smile.

Peter and Stiles exchanged a confused look, the wolf fixing his kid and the twins with a quirked brow. “What do you mean?”

The twins quickly averted their gazes, sipped at their apple juice and were suddenly way more invested in the movie.

“Cubs?” Stiles chided softly.

Unsurprisingly, Nia piped up and said, “We were gonna trap you, Mr. Tinski. We wanted to trap you with daddy like Susan and Sharon and Hallie and Annie did with their mommy and daddy.” She then munched on some popcorn, her focus once more on the movie.

After exchanging a quick look with each other, Peter immediately texted Cora and Stiles immediately texted Lydia.

[Stiles] What did you do? [Peter] Really Cora dear?

A notification appeared for both men and they realized the girls had added them to a group chat. Of course, they named it too and it brought a bright pink blush to both Stiles and Peter’s cheeks.

Parent Trapped Idiots in Love [Cora] Really really, Uncle Peter. Sorry not sorry. [Lydia] I did what would’ve taken you another decade to do, Stiles. Though honestly it wasn’t us exactly who came up with this. [Cora] Indeed. Those Twinskis came up with the general idea and little Nia decided on the name.

The twins and Nia watched and giggled as their daddies blushed an even darker shade of red. Cas took pity on their daddies and hurried to the bedroom to grab their secret research notes. She came back with a small but thick notebook and placed it on Peter’s lap.

Watching their daddies open the book was painstakingly hard to do patiently but the twins each grabbed one of Nia’s hands and squeezed.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Stiles asked, gesturing to the book.

Peter smiled and laced his fingers with Stiles’s own. “Together?”

Stiles grinned and bit his lip as he nodded. “Together.”

With their linked fingers, they opened the notebook and began to read. As they turned each page, both Peter and Stiles got to see themselves through the eyes of their children.

Daddy is brave and gives the best hugs. He reads us bedtime stories and always does the voices. He sings to us when we're sad and kisses our foreheads every night. He taught us how to be strong, brave and tells us just how much he loves us. Mr. Hale makes our daddy smile. He gives us piggyback rides and made us our favorite cake for our birthday. He protects us just like daddy protects us. Mr. Hale makes daddy happy and though he loves our daddy and wants to make daddy his mate, we are just as important to him, and he makes sure to never lets us forget it. We love Mr. Hale and want him to be our daddy too. Our daddy deserves to be happy and so does he.

Both Stiles and Peter had to brush away tears that were now slipping down their cheeks, but they kept reading as they got to Nia’s entries.

My daddy is brave, smart, sarcastic, funny and protective. He shows me every day that no matter what you face, you can always overcome it. He fought hard to be the daddy he tells me I deserve, and I hope he knows he's always been the best daddy a pup could ask for. He's never let me down. Even though he sometimes drinks the last of the milk or eats my candy, I still love him. He's my daddy and I'm his pup. We're pack. We're family and I know no matter what happens, I'll always have my daddy, and know he'll always be there for me. Mr. Tinski brought light into our life and made my daddy preen and laugh. He gave daddy hope that he could love and be loved by a mate. When I had a panic attack, Mr. Tinski didn't hesitate to step in and comfort me. He smells good too and I know that he will keep me safe as if I was his pup too. Because of how happy he makes my daddy and because after watching the twinskis I know he's a good daddy too, I want Mr. Tinski and daddy to be mates.

Every page that they turned brought more warmth to their hearts and tears to their eyes. The next page was a joint entry from all three kids.

There will be good days when we get pancakes, cuddles and laugh a lot. There will be bad days when we're late for school, don't talk for hours and cry a lot. But together as a family, a pack, a pride, together as one unit, we will overcome it. So, we've decided to help our daddies be mates. Auntie Liddy and Cora said they could lock our daddies in a closet until they kiss and make up, but we think we have a better idea. Then again, we believe that our daddies will figure it out themselves because that's who they are. Our daddy has never looked at anyone like he looks at Mr. Hale. My daddy has never looked at anyone like he looks at Mr. Tinski. So, even if they have bad breath, stinky feet, laugh loudly, snort, leave their towels on the ground, don't let us stay up late, put us in timeout, make us eat broccoli, forget to buy groceries or any other stuff like that, we don't care because at the end of the day, they are our daddies, and we wouldn't want them any other way. We love you! Love Nia, Cas, and Reyn Your Pup & Your Cubs. 🐾 🐾 🐾

✶ 🐺 🐾 ❤︎ 🐾 🐯 ✶

“Oh, my goddess,” Stiles whispered, choking on the lump of emotion in his throat and Peter wasn't faring much better. The wolf and tiger spark looked at their kids, looked at each other and in that moment, they knew this was forever. They had already known it but in this moment, they fully acknowledged it. They could see it in each other’s eyes, feel it in their souls and without hesitation they kissed. It was a soft thing, a promise and a declaration all at once.

They pulled away and were graced with cheers from the three kids who started to sing.

“YOU’RE WELCOOOOOOOOOME!!!”

✶ 🐺 🐾 ❤︎ 🐾 🐯 ✶

The following weekend, Stiles and Peter decided to take the kids to the zoo for their first official outing as a family. While they were there, Nia noticed something about the tour that confused her. So, during a break, while Peter took the twins to get snacks for everyone, Nia stayed with Stiles and gently tugged his hand.

“Mr. Tinski?”

“Yes, kiddo?”

Nia bit her lip and mumbled something too soft for even were ears to catch.

Stiles caught her scent, and it was worrying enough that he slowly squatted down in front of her. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Um well I had a question.”

“I love questions.”

Nia scrunched her nose and smiled softly. “Well, um the guide lady said that a group of lions is called a pride, a group of wolves is a pack b-but when she said the word about a group of tigers I got confused.”

Stiles tilted his head and then stilled. “Ambush.”

“Yeah,” Nia whispered. “That’s what she said but you say pride and you’re very smart. Why did she say the wrong name?”

A heavy weight settled in Stiles’s chest. “Well, she didn’t say the wrong name, sweetheart. A group of tigers is called an ambush but when I lost someone very important to me it was because of a Hunter ambush. I couldn’t use that term anymore after that.”

Nia searched his face and frowned slightly, her expression sad and way too knowing for an almost seven year old. “Cas and Reyn’s mommy?”

Stiles teared up and nodded. “Yeah.”

With a soft whine, Nia threw her arms around his neck and scented him fiercely. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Nia.”

The little pup pulled back and shook her head. “It’s okay not to be okay, Mr. Tinski. Daddy still hurts right here,” she placed her palm over Stiles’s heart. “When he thinks about Auntie Lia and Cousin Laura. You lost your mate and that’s like losing your heart. That’s what daddy said.”

Stiles nodded sadly. “It’ll always hurt but I’m going to tell you what I told your daddy. Okay?”

“‘Kay.”

As he spoke, Stiles fixed her braid. “Even though I will always love her, my heart has room for you and your daddy.”

Nia perked up and wiggled excitedly but tried not to get too worked up. “Really?! That means that you’re gonna love daddy and me?!”

Stiles met Peter’s gaze over her shoulder and smiled. “I already do.”

✶ 🐺 🐾 ❤︎ 🐾 🐯 ✶

Sporting mating bites high on their necks, the two mates returned from two and a half months away to three very unhappy kiddos. However, once Cas, Reyn and Nia saw the bites they were ecstatic. Congratulations were given all around with a promise to get together as a pack, as a pride, to get together as a family next weekend. They decided to keep another bit of news to themselves for now, though they knew they wouldn’t be able to do so for long.

Peter kept subtly placing his hand on Stiles’s stomach when he thought no one was looking, though Stiles was pretty sure the wolf didn’t care who was watching. He just kept rumbling happily and nuzzling at the tiger spark’s mating bite. Despite no outward change, the wolf couldn’t wait to meet their children, and neither could his mate.

They found out that they were having three girls and one boy and had already decided what to name their little ones. They chose Novalee Talia Stilinski-Hale for the first girl, Laura Claudia Stilinski-Hale for the second girl, Petra Naomi Stilinski-Hale for the third girl and Dubeaux Noah Stilinski-Hale for the boy. In doing so, this would be a way to honor the ones they had loved and lost, making sure they were never forgotten. They had a bright future ahead of them full of endless possibilities. While they would never forget the past, they would no longer let it keep them from the future and oh what a future it would be.

#mfbingo #multifandom bingo #mf bingo #square filled: mating #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #peter hale #cora hale #lydia martin #full shift tiger cubs #full shift wolf pups #alpha peter hale #spark stiles stilinski #weretiger stiles stilinski #mating #steter mini bang 2023 #mates peter hale/stiles stilinski #paw patrol: ch. 15 #chapter 15

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shitpostingiris · 2 years

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A letter which began with. /Dear Jamie im not a psychopath. /And it continued to say very explicit things. In the same box I received. /A leather bondage collar with nipple clamps. /And a phone number./I’m sorry i haven’t called if you’re watching. /But you scared the shit out of me

😭😭😭I love this man so much

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beefylove55 · 1 year

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😍😍😍😍😍😍

#beefy muscle #bear cub #cute guy #hairy bears #peter reinthaler #beefylove55

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vintagewildlife · 5 months

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Brown bear cubs playing By: Peter Krott From: Natural History Magazine 1962

#brown bear #bear #carnivore #mammal #1962 #1960s #Peter Krott #Natural History Magazine

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generouskittendragon · 11 months

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Snow Leopard cubs by Peter Bolliger

#Snow Leopard cubs #wildlife

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on-a-lucky-tide · 3 months

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Price visits Sweatbox in Soho and sees a Ghost.

(cw: oral sex, rimming, anal sex, gay sauna etiquette, sweaty gay men, repressed/closeted Price, bottom Ghost)

Price shut the locker with a relieved sigh and jumbled the numbers of the lock. He hadn't been to the Sweatbox in years but after that last spate of missions he was in desperate need of release. It had hit him at roughly 2100 that evening, a deep, keen ache in his gut and an itch beneath his skin.

He had shoved his feet into his boots and his desires had carried him to Soho. The bars were overflowing, the music loud and thumping. He paused outside the Duke of Wellington and hesitated in the doorway of the Admiral Duncan long enough to be jostled by two drunk boys stumbling into the night, but neither of the bars offered what he was immediately after. He would have to go through the song of dance of social interaction; buy drinks, dance, flirt. Price just didn't have it in him. Not anymore.

So he had trudged on; right down Wardour Street, his hands deep in his pockets; left down Great Marlborough Street, thinking perhaps if he could walk it off or thrash it out in the gym, then the ache would go away. It had been the emergence of a thickly muscled cub from Ramillies Street that had twigged the memory.

A sauna in Ramilies House and it was open twenty-four hours, seven days a week. It was tucked away behind Oxford Street, and he remembered that, in his youth, he had been excited by the idea of the average member of the public browsing the rails and shelves while thickly muscled men fucked each other raw barely two hundred yards away.

But now, he just needed to feel.

Price left the locker room and headed into the maze. It connected a number of saunas and it was in one of these that Price found his first liaison; a slim blond with a bright smile and a pretty little cock that fit perfectly in Price's mouth. Not quite enough, there was something missing, and Price nudged him away when a hand reached to squeeze his prick through his towel.

For half an hour Price sat in the heat and the steam, watching others arrive, connect, fuck and depart.

Connect.

That's what was missing. He wasn't looking for some whirlwind romance in a bloody sauna, but Price had always needed some form of deeper connection and understanding in sex. His first love had been a fellow rookie at the Royal Military Academy; it had been hot, heavy and swift, the connection built around raw desperation, exhaustion and a dogged will to succeed.

It had petered out the moment Price had graduated, the youngest officer to ever do so, and then been badged by the SAS. Since then, Price had tried to stick with like-minded men, men that understood him and the life. It was a fine line. A dangerous line. Especially before 2000 when being outed would have cost him a dishonourable discharge. Even now, the scars of those years, of Section 28, they stopped him from ever taking that step out of the shadows...

Fuck.

Price rubbed his hands over his face and left the sauna, resolving to grab a beer and then pick up the first pretty face who showed interest. He had a few hours to scratch this itch and make himself presentable for an online meeting. Better get to it.

The cafe was quiet; it was Sunday evening and most of the fun had happened the night before. There were only a scattered few men lounging on the sofas, chatting idly between bouts of touching and kissing, while porn played on the expensive-looking flat screens around the edge of the room. It was as Price marked the bar that he identified a sight that rooted his feet to the floor.

A broad, muscular back, an arm covered in skulls and miscellaneous battlefield imagery that was as familiar to him as the sight of his own damn beard in the mirror, and a balaclava'd head with a bit of fuzzy blonde showing at the scruff of the neck.

Price pressed his fingers into his eyes, pinched his nose, and then looked back to check Ghost wasn't a figment of dehydration or heatstroke from the bloody sauna. He wasn't. There he sat, calmly drinking a beer and watching a vintage porno on a nearby screen. His muscles were larger than even Ghost's standards, pumped from time in the gym, no doubt, and Price's prick gave an unhelpful twitch beneath his towel. At least some things remained constant.

There were two choices: Price could turn and walk away, which given the fragility of their situation here would have been the wiser option, or he could listen to the jittery excitement in the pit of his stomach and follow it to the bar.

His official report would have you believe Bravo Six to be truly peerless in issues of leadership, tracking and unconventional warfare, and then, in the small print, it would acknowledge his more than occasional frustration with rules and procedures. Tonight, he decided the small print would be well justified.

He slid into the bar stool at Ghost's side and folded his arms. There was a stillness to Ghost's posture now, replacing the relaxed fluidity of before. Price knew Ghost was regarding him, but in what way he couldn't be sure. Ghost, apparently reaching a conclusion, lifted his beer from the bar for another sip and Price watched his mouth more intently than he ever had before; lips gnarled by a deep, broad scar that bisected into a second on his jaw and neck.

"Sir," Ghost acknowledged, not taking his eyes off the television screen.

Heat balled in Price's belly. "Drop the 'sir', Lieuten--Simon. It means something else here."

"I'm aware."

Price nearly choked on his own spit. To cover the cough, he gestured at the semi-naked waiter and ordered himself a fifth of whiskey, and tightened his hand around it to keep it occupied.

"How long have you--?"

"Three hours."

Price squinted, and then realised Ghost was talking about his session in the sauna. "No, you muppet, how long have you been--?"

Even after all these years, sitting in a fucking sauna, Price couldn't say it.

Ghost had no such hang up. "Gay? Since I figured out what my dick was for." Notably, Ghost didn't return the question, which suggested he either wasn't entirely interested in the answer or felt like Price had overstepped.

Price stared at the whiskey in his hand, intimately aware of how hard he was getting under his towel, because his mind--so very fucking creative in the field--was now speed running all the ways he wanted to have Ghost, indulging in all those times he had pushed the fantasies down because leching after your straight junior officers was a one way ticket to personal hell. He wasn't entirely sure whether fucking your gay junior officer was any less self destructive.

"I've got a proposal," Ghost said, pushing his now empty bottle away. "I'm down to fuck, got one of the private cabins. It stays in here. Never leaves. We both get what we want."

There were so many layers to what Ghost was offering that it took Price a moment to parse them. The offer was clear as day, and Price knew he could trust Ghost's discretion; no one could keep a secret quite like Lieutenant Simon Riley. It was the, 'we both get what we want' part that left Price reeling.

Ghost reached over Price's lap and squeezed the length of his cock through his towel. Etiquette was clear in the saunas and Ghost's proposition couldn't have been more so. "First door on the right. Don't leave me waiting, sir."

Ghost slid from his stool, the towel sitting perfectly on the round curves of his arse, and disappeared into the maze. Price stared at the tumbler of whiskey in his hand and tried to reason himself out of making this mistake. It was no good; he was thinking with a different head that was desperate to feel Ghost's hand on it again.

Price knocked back his drink in two wincing gulps and grabbed a condom from the bowl on the bar. The maze was as calm as the cafe, but Price didn't pause to take in the ambience. If Ghost was following usual etiquette, his door would be open and there was a possibility that someone else would accept the invitation and Ghost would take the offer.

The door was indeed open, but the room was quiet but for the muffled sound of music. The sight that greeted Price as he stepped inside was something straight out of his wet dreams.

Ghost waited on his front, propped up on his elbows with his legs spread. The towel was gone and Price could see the elastic of a jock strap framing the two perfect curves of his arse. Between those thick thighs, Price could see the full swell of Ghost's sac, straining at soft cotton. Price knew Ghost was a work of art; he had admired his powerful body for years, watching it work in the gym and the field, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Ghost like this. Spread and compliant, his body begging in the way he tilted his hips to expose his hole, muscular back shifting subtly.

"Like what you see, sir?" asked that low growl, and Price swallowed hard.

"Always have, Simon." The setting felt too intimate for call signs and honorifics. Price closed the door, declining any interruptions from others, and left his towel by it. The confession had just slipped out, but how could he not confess? He was about to worship at a truly special altar.

Ghost watched Price as far as he could without twisting, those long lashes low, until Price knelt on the foot of the bed. He was so hard, so fucking wet too, leaking like a virgin rookie panting in his bunk. Simon smelled of clean sweat from the gym and the shower he'd taken before, and Price crawled over his body to press his nose into those soft tufts of hair escaping the bottom of Ghost's mask; the line where Simon started.

His cock settled into the cleft of Simon's arse, and he didn't miss the way Simon spread his legs a little further and rocked up into the pressure of it. Fuck. Simon wanted it, wanted his hole filled, and it was Price's prick he was demanding.

Price left the condom on the bed as he worked his way down Simon's back, nipping, licking and kissing every peak and valley in its muscular topography. He was rewarded with a soft, panted groan when he reached the swell of Simon's arse and ended his journey with a gentle nip. "Spread 'em," Price demanded, finding his voice behind the knot in his throat.

Simon did so obediently, shifting to press the inside of his knees into the mattress, his body arching deliciously in a single, athletic curve that defied any doubt that a man of his size could be flexible. Price ran his nose over the soft skin, kissing a patch of freckles, before he pressed his thumbs into each cheek and spread Simon open. The first lap of his tongue made Simon choke on a gasp, and Price savoured that small victory; he was taking some control back.

Simon had been so calm at the bar, so completely unbothered, and Price had choked and stumbled like a boy. Now, with his tongue laving broad circles around Simon's rim, he knew he had gained ground back. Tactical warfare. The bristles of his moustache must have felt good, because Simon pushed back a little, betraying a budding neediness.

Price licked deeper, curling and writhing his tongue until Simon's pants were ragged, his hips bucking and jittering in an effort to stay still. Price took his time teasing Simon open, savouring each new twitch and noise he coaxed from the formidable body beneath him. When Price pushed his tongue deep, Simon finally relented. "Sir, John... Please."

That single word straining out in Simon's low, gravelly timber made Price's dick throb and he knew he'd done teasing. He lifted back to his knees and snatched the condom up just as Simon reached for a small tube of poppers tucked beneath the pillow. "I'll be gentle, Simon," Price said, tossing the foil aside as he wrapped up.

"No," Simon replied. "I want it hard, deep. Proper." Simon chucked a bottle of lube down the bed.

"Oh, fuck," Price breathed, gnawing on his lower lip. It took all his willpower to keep his hands steady as he poured some slick over his cock, and then warmed some on his fingers to tease around Simon's hole. He let Simon take a few breaths of his aid, watched those impressive muscles bunch and relax, before he slipped a finger in to the last knuckle. Simon's body opened so easily, almost sucked him in, and Price groaned low in his chest. "Fuckin' hell, Simon. You're made for this."

Simon grunted, rolling his hips back, his forehead dropping, and Price drew back to replace his hand with the tip of his prick. He was enjoying Simon's neediness, the way his skin shivered and his body opened itself so desperately, so he took his time thrusting in. With small, slow movements, Price enjoyed each successive inch he worked into slick, welcoming heat. He let the flare of his crown pop and catch on Simon's rim, enjoying the way Simon's body spread open around it.

It was better than he'd ever imagined, watching the sweat bead on Simon's back, feeling his body clench, listening to pants become low, tight moans of pleasure as Price finally worked in to the hilt.

"Ung, fuck," Simon huffed, fists clenching as he took another breath of relaxant. Price felt a swell of smug pride at the idea he was bigger than Simon's average and remembered what he'd been asked for. Hard, deep. Price slipped his hands beneath Simon's thighs to tilt his hips a little more, and set about finding a rhythm that would make Simon lose whatever self control he had left.

Price let his head fall back as he fucked into Simon with deep, hard thrusts. He found the right angle quickly enough, shifting a hand to press a palm to the small of Simon's back to keep him angled just right, and it was then that Simon found his voice. Each deep pound pushed a whimper or cuss from him, his head low between his shoulders as he clenched with each wet slap of Price's hips. Price found himself remembering those glorious tits of Simon's, always disguised by his tactical vest in the field, but perfectly framed in cotton during mess and down time.

Price drew out and hooked Simon's hip, flipping him onto his back. He didn't leave Simon empty for long, gathering muscular legs to his shoulders as he notched his prick against Simon's loose, greedy hole. Simon left one hand above his head, and circled his prick with the other, stripping it fast and hard with the same pace as Price's hips. Price spread his knees for purchase, chasing the building heat in his gut, coiling at the base of his spine, as he watched Simon's broad chest bounce, nipples pebbled, begging to sucked. "Fuck, Simon. Never thought I'd enjoy... your hole as much as this."

Simon didn't reply. He was too lost in the glorious burn of being fucked well. As he chased his peak, Price could hear him growl "yeah, yeah" under his breath, his free hand knotting in the sheets until his impressive cock finished in a hot load over his fist. His entire body tightened up, and Price fucked him through it, those pants turning into choked moans. Watching Simon unravel was enough for Price to find the edge, and he chased it to his own end, finishing deep in Simon and wishing the condom wasn't there. What he'd give to watch his claim leak out of Simon in the aftermath.

Price fell forward onto an elbow, his heart hammering in his chest. He had enough sense about him to draw out his softening cock, but not enough to prepare himself for the ragged lips that sealed over his and the eager tongue that swept into his mouth. Simon kissed like he fought; fierce, ruthless, single-minded, and Price moaned into it, before rolling off onto his back.

A few minutes of breathless silence passed, and then Simon grunted. "Only one?"

Price huffed an incredulous laugh. "Shit, Simon, let a man regroup."

Simon hummed and stretched with all the languid pleasure of a large cat sunning itself. "You've got a few more rounds in you yet, sir."

Turned out Price had quite a few more rounds in him. Half an hour later, Simon rode him, his head thrown back as powerful thighs fucked him down onto Price's prick, his hands behind his neck as Price squeezed his chest and teased his cock. Price took him again in one of the saunas, their skin slick with sweat, sensitive with heat. Price licked the drips from Simon's spine, grinding deep, barely withdrawing as Simon gripped the bench; Price made Simon shout his name that time. In between, Price gave Simon a massage and played with his hole, his balls, murmuring admiration and praise for the godly physique beneath his hands. They finished in the jacuzzi, Simon's mouth working down Price's cock as Price fingered him in slow, lazy thrusts.

They left the bathhouse in the early hours of the morning, and Price had begun the process of filing the whole experience into 'once in a lifetime' when Simon paused at the cusp of Oxford Street and glanced over his shoulder. "I'll be back next week." He pulled his mask down over his chin and disappeared into the pale early morning.

Price was already rearranging his plans for next Sunday.

#cod #call of duty #captain price #simon ghost riley #john price #priceghost #ghostprice #cod:mw

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konigenblobbity · 9 months

Text

Lion Tamer [Bonus]

Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, protective Miguel. animalistic Miguel, Hobie gets a bonk on the head (it was his own fault)

—> [Part 1]

A/n: Not really a part two, more of a bonus that I cut out from the story but still thought was fun.

After leaving you with Miguel in the cage, the spiders left the room to look into finding an antidote or information on what he had been drugged with. As Gwen and Jess work with Spiderbyte to look into it, Hobie, Peter and Pavitr decide to pay you a visit after a few hours.

“It shouldn’t take long though” Hobie says as walks into the room after the two other spiders. “Spiderbyte’ll get it done right quick and then Miguel will be back to his kind and loving self” He says and then chuckles as he turns to close the door behind him. When his joke is met with silence he looks over his shoulder to the others with furrowed brows.

“Oi, did I suddenly become unfunny?” He walks up to them, both frozen in place, figures blocking his view of the cage. “What’s gotten into you two?” He asks and circles to stand in front of them, having not yet looked at the cage. Both Peter’s and Pavitr’s eyes were wide and staring into the cage behind Hobie. “Well I’ll be…” Peter mumbles and lets out a huff of a laugh.

After a moment Hobie finally turns around to look at the cage. He was shocked and had to blink twice to make sure the sight in front of him was real. His eyes were slightly wide and a smirk slowly grew on his lips. “Fucking finally.” He murmurs to himself, putting his hands in his vest pockets.

Lying in the middle of the cage were you and Miguel. Your body was curled up against his chest, the way his figure was wrapped around yours seemed reminiscent of an animal protecting their cub. He had one arm thrown over your body protectively while the other rested under your head, the dip of his elbow your pillow.

“Aren’t they just precious” Hobie jokes and Pavitr chuckles lightly. “Who would’ve thought…” Peter murmurs and Hobie chuckles rolling his eyes. “I did!” He had a cocky grin plastered on his face and called out with a laugh. “It was so obvious” his voice echoed around the room and unbeknownst to him it caused Miguel to stir in his sleep.

He smiles at Pavitr “Oi mate, looks like Gwen owes us a tenner each” adding on a wink. Pavitr smiles “She should’ve never denied the truth” shrugging as he spoke. Peter just looks at them, somewhat bewildered. “Wait… you made a bet on whether the boss likes them?” He clearly wasn’t mad, a slight smile on his face. He seemed a bit impressed.

Hobie shrugs “well to be fair… it only became a bet when Gwen denied Miguel’s feelings. Saying he simply admires their talents” Peter then grins and let’s out a laugh “That’s exactly what Jess said! But I knew better” he places a hand on his hips while waving his finger pointedly as he spoke. Pavitr and Hobie exchange a glance before Pavitr speaks. “Wait… you saw it too?”

Peter shrugs nonchalantly before walking over to where Hobie leaned against a stack of boxes “It’s like you said. It was obvious.” He goes to stand next to him before nudging his shoulder lightly. Hobie looks at him curiously and Peter gives a cocky smirk “So obvious that she owes me twenty” to which Pavitr lets out a frustrated huff and Hobie just laughs.

“Nicely done mate.” Hobie comments giving him a nod of approval before looking back into the cage. Not picking up on how Miguel’s body was tense now, being disturbed by all their talking. “Surprised it took this long though” he adds with a soft chuckle, to which Pavitr nods and Peter shrugs nonchalantly.

After joking around a bit more, their eyes are all back on the cage as they hear a deep growl. All their chatter had awoken Miguel, who was now glaring daggers at Hobie. So much so that Peter stepped to the left away from Hobie just to be sure it wasn’t directed at him. “Why is he looking at you like that?” He asks a bit uneasy. But Hobie ignores his concern.

They all watched how Miguel pulled your body more against his own, his arm under you head bending just enough to wrap around your shoulders gently; still being careful not to wake you. His lips parted just enough in a sneer for his fangs to be on display. His body shifting to try and hide your figure more with his own.

Hobie allows his tongue to trace his top teeth before stepping closer to the cage, an amused glint in his eyes. As he began to move around the cage Miguel’s eyes did not leave him once, completely disregarding the other two spiders in the room.

“Uhh… what are you doing?” Peter asks, hesitating to follow after him, deciding to just stay put. Pavitr watched as well, already having some idea of what the punk had planned. “Just testing a theory!” Hobie tilts his head back, directing his words to Peter but ensuring not to break eye contact with Miguel as he spoke.

The more Hobie moves towards the cage, the more protective Miguel gets. He begins to slowly crouch off the floor, carefully placing your head on the ground as he moved to stand in front of your body. As if to hide it from Hobie’s gaze. Hobie just stands tall, rolling his shoulders back, showing his teeth with a cocky grin.

Miguel does the same, standing up taller, eyes glaring down at Hobie like a hawk. His teeth now fully on display as he unveiled his claws to make him appear all the more threatening. Hobie brushes it off, chuckling almost mockingly at the sight, not even an ounce of fear in his demeanor. I mean he was in a cage, he couldn’t touch him if he tried.

Pavitr watches intently as well before mumbling a warning “Hobie… don’t do anything stupid” but Hobie just raises a hand and waves it at him, not listening. Hobie then stops in his place, Miguel’s body freezes up in response. Hobie’s eyes then dart down to your body.

Its only a second later that Hobie fires a web through the bars of the cage directly at your calf, he then pulls it towards him, dragging your sleeping body away from Miguel. However, he barely managed to pull you an inch across the ground before Miguel grabs at the web.

With the claw of his other hand he cuts it but still keeps the rope tight in his grasp. When Miguel cut it Hobie smirks to himself, happy with the result. When his gaze locks into Miguel’s again, his smile drops. The look in Miguel’s eyes was one of bloodlust and pure rage. He looked about ready to kill Hobie for what he just did.

Miguel glanced down at Hobie’s hand, which was still extended outwards with the web coming out of the shooter on his wrist. Hobie looks down and immediately understands what Miguel must be thinking, he looks back up at him and the corner of Miguel’s mouth was raised ever so slightly… almost in a condescending smirk.

“Well shit.” Is all Hobie manages to say before Miguel pulled on the rope of web roughly. It causes Hobie to fly forward off his feet hitting the cage with a loud thud. His eyes clenching shut and he lands on his ass, hand rubbing at his forehead. Unbeknownst to him, Miguel had rushed over to the wall of the cage while he tried to recover.

“Hobie!” Peter calls out and he and Pavitr quickly rush over and pull him away from the cage before any more damage can be done. Miguel’s hand reach through the gap in the metal bars, claws swiping and cutting through the air in frantic motions. The whole time Miguel had pure rage on his face as his eyes glowered down at Hobie.

Luckily he was now out of his reach but he was looking with wide eyes at just how demented and frenzied Miguel looked. He groans and rubs his forehead again as pain surges through his skull. “Told you” Pavitr says before helping the Brit stand back up onto his feet. “Shut up. I was right wasn’t I?” he remarks snidely.

Once Hobie was back on his feet Miguel gave one last snarl before pacing back to the center of the cage and went to crouch over your body again. One hand carefully picked off any remaining webs on your calf, throwing each one aside with a scowl. Once it was all gone he gave your leg a soft caress to make sure you weren’t hurt.

Peter turns to Hobie “I’m not following. What just happened? What are you right about?” Hobie looks at him and tilts his head like it was obvious. “The prick hates me” he nods his head in the direction of the cage, before chuckling softly.

Pavitr then adds “That or he really likes them” and Hobie hums in agreement. “Huh” Peter comments and they all watch how Miguel lies back down and pulls you back against his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head and cuddling you close against him.

#konigenblobbity #fanfiction #miguel o hara #miguel fanfic #miguel spiderman #miguel o hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse Miguel #across the spiderverse fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader

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