Work Text:
The way the shifter changed should have been a warning sign. A weaker person would have backed out at this point. Scratch that. A rational person wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place; a more sane but arguably still insane person would back out now. But Soap was neither of those things. Never was. Call it a character flaw. Most people did. But Soap? To Soap, it was an attribute that helped more than it hindered. It’s part of why he climbed the ranks like he did.
The soft balaclava rolled up over the shifter’s nose, leaving the lower half of his face exposed. His mouth contorted into a scowl made more enticing by the cruel scars that bisect his lips. Teeth curl over his teeth with a scowl, canines elongated, nicotine-stained and sharp. Sharp enough to tear and rend flesh. It was a true spectacle that Soap had only seen once, though it replayed in his head more than he should admit. The man’s fingernails are long, sharp and claw-like. The way he moves is careful and calculated yet raw and animalistic. He knows Ghost’s willpower is hanging by a thread, and he just needs a little push before he snaps and gives in to those baser desires and allows his beast to win.
The way that Ghost kisses him right now is ardent as if he’s trying to devour Soap whole, mapping out the terrain of his mouth with his tongue. Soap is eager to let him, hands clinging onto the shifter’s broad shoulders, drawing him in as close as the other will let him. They break away with a heavy breaths, chest rising and falling steadily.
“McTavish, you need to leave now.” Ghost hisses at him, spittle flying and hitting Soap’s face. “That’s an order, Sergeant.”
“Court-martial me then, ye numpty.” Soap smiles at him, lips quirking, watching Ghost’s muscles tense, jaw clenched, and eyes flaring with something dangerous. He thinks momentarily that if he were Ghost’s kind, he would’ve been helpless to the order, look, and intimidation. But Soap isn’t a hybrid. He’s just some human with bullet casings rolling around his skull in place of a brain.
They’ve fucked before, Soap may have a few screws in his head loose, but he wasn’t insane enough to seduce Ghost like this when his control wanned. The idea of taking advantage of Ghost like that made him sick, having heard whispers of Ghost’s past shared with him late at night when nightmares startled the hybrid awake. Soap wasn’t the best of men, but there were some lines that even he could never cross. He knows the light is at least yellow, threatening to turn green from how Ghost stared at him all week. The way he towered over Soap, scaring off anyone who dared get too close, meant that some part of Ghost wanted this—wanted Soap. Knows from how Ghost had bent him over in a storage closet and taken him roughly, leaving him leaking his spend after some private let his hand rest fondly on Soap’s shoulder. If Ghost didn’t want this, Soap would’ve already been on his ass on the other side of the door. They both know that, but Soap doesn’t mind playing Ghost’s little game. Lord knew they had played enough cat and mouse that a little more wouldn’t hurt. At least this wasn’t over coms, making Gaz and Price subject to their voracious flirtation.
“Please, Si, I ken I can help ye.”
The air is stolen from Soap’s lungs when he’s slammed back against the concrete wall. Head knocking and echoing with a resounding thud. Ghost looks feral as he pins Soap against the wall, claws digging into the meat of his shoulders, threatening to rip his too-tight henley. Soap smiles at him, challenging all blunt teeth as a giddy feeling swells within his gut. Soap’s teeth are not made to tear flesh, but they both know they won’t stop him if they stand between what he wants.
“I’m not going to be able to hold back, Johnny.” Ghost heaves the words out, and even from behind the man’s mask, Soap can see how emotions swirl rapidly within his glazed irises. Pools of blues with something more dark within, less controlled and greedy. It’s Ghost’s inner beast snapping and snarling at him for delaying the inevitable. “I’m not going to be able to stop.”
“I ken.” Soap tips his head against the wall and bares his throat for the other man. Triumph flares in his gut when Ghost growls. “Dae ye want this?”
“That doesn’t matter.” Weak to his instincts, Ghost leans in, nosing along Soap’s jawline, inhaling deeply. Soap can’t smell it, not as Ghost can, beyond the usual smells, but he knows by now that Ghost prefers that he smell like himself and no one else. Price and Gaz are the only exceptions, but he can see how it makes Ghost’s nose twitch even then. “Don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Please, Si.” Soap lets the words roll off his tongue in a moan, feels the way Ghost inches closer, and plasters his hulking frame over the front of Soap. Thick thigh slotting between Soap’s legs. “Need it so bad, dinnae care if it hurts. Want it tae.”
Ghost laughs, sharp and cruel “Fucking brat.” He hisses, nipping at Soap’s pulse point. Not hard enough to break the skin, a warning of what would come, he’s sure.
“you know what this is, right? My biological urge to find a bitch and knock them up, that what you want?” Ghost’s voice has lowered into a growl, voice thick with lust as he rocks his hips forward into Soap’s hip. He can feel the way Ghost’s cock is full and heavy, trapped behind thick denim. He needs this badly. Soap’s head spins when Ghost’s hauling him up like he weighs nothing, slotting himself between Soap’s legs and pinning him to the wall by his hips. Between the words and the change in position, Soap can only stare dumbly at Ghost, lips parted and blush rising high on his cheekbones as Ghost leers at him, lip quirked in a shameless smirk. “You want to be my bitch and take all my cum until you’re nice and bred?”
“Yes!” Soap readily agrees, hands coming up to finger along the edges of the bottom of Ghost’s balaclava. He butts into his nose along Ghost’s jaw, the flat of his tongue dragging along the pale skin.
“This is your last fucking chance to back out, Johnny,” Ghost murmurs, head lolling to the side, allowing the other access to nip and lick as he pleases. “I’m not kidding, won’t be able to stop. Might hurt you.”
It’s a low blow; Soap knows this, and the thought sends a zing of pleasure-laced excitement through him. It’s like holding a detonator or a bomb, and he’s eager to watch the explosion, to feel the heat of it singe off the fine hairs of his face and leave his ears ringing unpleasantly. Soap waits for a moment like he waits for the command to detonate. Rolls off Ghost’s balaclava when he doesn’t meet any resistance, tossing it somewhere in the room. He states at Ghost, musters up the most innocent look he can, though he’s sure it’s cocksure and salacious, before he presses the button to detonate. “Please, Si, breed me.”
Ghost growls, low in his throat. Elongated nails dug into the meat of his ass. Sharp enough, they cut through the denim. Soap is sure that he watches when the thread snaps, and the beast wins, overtaking Ghost’s body with ease and triumph. Ready to maim and claim what’s rightfully his, Soap couldn’t be more eager.
“Get undressed,” He orders, shoving Soap by the hips towards the bed. He laughs meanly when Soap stumbles. “On the bed, hands and knees.”
Even through his stumbling, Soap moves fast, albeit clumsily. Clothes are messily tossed onto the concrete floor, not folded and set aside neatly like they typically would be. And he sinks onto the bed, forearms resting on the shitty military-issued mattress, knees spread apart, and cock hanging heavily between them, precum beading at the rosy tip, threatening to drip onto the sheet. Ghost follows suit and tosses his clothes aside carelessly to join Soap on the floor before he crawls into the space he’s carved out between the man’s thighs. He grabs the lube from the bedside table, leaning over Soap’s body and smiling at the way he shivers from the contact.
The man is lucky that Ghost is even coherent enough to bother with prep work. If he were any further gone, instinct would’ve overrode his rationality. Soap is glad he decided to shove himself full before he came knocking at the man’s door, unsure of how well Ghost would prep him. He wonders if Ghost can smell it, the residual lube and arousal. Slicked fingers find their way toward Soap’s entrance, roughened finger pads stroking over delicate skin, catching on the rim before a single digit easily slips in.
One turns to two, and that quickly turns to four. Far faster than it should have. The stretch is still there. Soap can feel it, but it’s good. Ghost stares at him slack-jawed as he works his fingers quickly inside Soap. They hadn’t fucked recently enough for him to be this loose. Soap can see the way that thought swirls over his features, and he sees the way the wolf’s eyes flare something fierce as the cogs turn.
“Was thinkin’ about ye this mornin.” Soap sighs, hips rocking in a silent plea to get more. To feel Ghost’s fingers poke and prod in all the areas he couldn’t quite reach himself. Soap knew what he was getting into, or at least a semblance. Knew this wasn’t an average romp, known by the telltale signs of irritation that had Ghost snapping at the cautious hands of others who foolishly stepped too close. They had fucked close to Ghost’s rut before, never during. Ghost lived up to his callsign when it arrived and avoided Soap like the plague. “Wanted tae be ready for ye.”
The look Ghost gives him is nothing short of awe. The black of his pupils eclipses his eyes, any hints of brown lost to his desire. The pink tip of his tongue peeks out and runs along his lower lip before his lips split into a mean smile. It’s all teeth, but nothing is soothing about it. Pure predator. “You’re insatiable. Want it that bad, pup?”
“Yeah, wis about tae find some other bird tae make ya jealous,” Soap flicked Ghost a mean smirk over his shoulder. He takes in the sight of the blonde hybrid’s body, Adonis reincarnated. Chisled and perfect, scars included. He could pick out the new ones, still pink and likely tender, old ones from before Ghost was Ghost and some from what made Ghost Ghost. He huffs softly, rocking back to meet the scarred knuckles of Ghost’s hand, attempting to entice him into expediting the process. Too eager to finally have this to savour it truly. “Knew that around this time, ye’d give me what I wantedif ye smelt some other knotheaded fuck ane me.”
Ghost laughs at him, a mirthless rough rumble that vibrates through his frame. “Fucking slag.” He spits, tearing his fingers from the other, ignoring the whine Soap emits. Ghost wraps a hand around his flushed cock, tugging roughly from base to tip. Soap feels the way Ghost leans over him, feels the puff of breath against his neck, right where he knows a mating gland would rest if he were like Ghost. It’s sweet. Even when he feels teeth scrape along the delicate skin. Can Ghost feel his thundering pulse below sharpened canines? “No one gets to touch what’s mine. And you’re mine, right Johnny?”
“Yeah, Si, I’m yours.” Soap preens under the affection, tilting his head sideways as a show of submission. So maybe he’d looked up a few things before finding his way into Ghost’s room, a few ways to please the man steadily careening towards his rut. After all, he couldn’t have someone of the same breed steal Ghost from under his feet.
Neither Ghost nor Soap were the best men; each weighed down heavily with sins that Soap wasn’t sure God could forgive. They were wrapped up and eagerly welcomed the sins of lust, gluttony, and greed when it came to each other. No amount of repenting could save them for each other or themselves; they were doomed to burn together, made for each other. There was no moderation in how either of them loved or fucked; it was all or nothing. And both were all too ready to carve holes within each other for the other.
“Do you even know what you do to me?” Ghost snarls, bumping the head of his cock against Soap’s slick hole, only threatening to push past the slackened muscle. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re nothing but a pretty omega tryna court me.”
“Wish a wis,” Soap murmurs dreamily, hips jutting back to force Ghost to slip inside. His hands curled into the sheets below, wiggling his hips as a wicked smile curled over his face. “Alpha.”
Ghost doesn’t waste another second on teasing, Soap has all the codes to detonate Ghost’s self-control. He pushes forward and breaches Soap remorselessly with a growl that makes gooseflesh prickle along tanned skin. Ghost’s cock feels much bigger like this, and part of Soap wonders if it’s his imagination. Maybe the position? But it steals the air from Soap’s lungs, leaving them burning as he silently wheezes at the intrusion. Ghost rarely bottoms out in a single thrust and saves it for when Soap is the most bratty, which is one of those times. And God, it feels good. It stretches all the right spots and borders on pain, making his toes curl, and muscles ache with tension.
“Is this what you wanted, love?” Ghost asks, thumbs brushing over the dimples in Soap’s lower back affectionately. He rocks forward slowly, and if it weren’t for Ghost’s iron grip, Soap would be attempting to squirm away—too full, too fast.
“Shit! Give me a-”
And then, all at once, he’s empty, only the tip of Ghost’s cock inside him before he’s abruptly filled again. He sobs, and Ghost laughs. Soap can feel the way Ghost’s hips press flush to the curve of his ass, the muscle bouncing with the force. Fills him to the brim until he’s worried he’ll tear into two. It doesn’t matter whether he prepared himself before arriving or whether Ghost did so as well; the man was packing a monster. “Feels too good. You feel so good for me, pup.” He can hear the bastard smirk and knows it’s all teeth and exploitative. The thought makes a chill zip up his spine, hole fluttering around the cock spearing him.
And isn’t this precisely what Soap had wanted? Maybe he had bit off more than he could chew and should have listened to Ghost for once in his damn life; after all, Soap’s body isn’t designed to take a cock like this. His body is not designed to follow the fertility cycles of shifters. On the other hand, this would be a heavenly way to die.
“Christ, Si, is yer cock bigger?” Soap finally rasps as the pain subsides into a more pleasurable thrum. The way Ghost fills him out is nearly constant, inescapable and all-consuming.
“Mhm.” Ghost confirms, hips moving with deep rolls. Soap shoots Ghost a look, sees the way his head is tipped back, how each muscle flexes as he leisurely uses Soap to chase his pleasure. “Told you, I’m gonna knock you up, Johnny. Body is primed for it right now.”
Soap whines at that, hole clenching and the horrid squelch of lube echoing when Ghost’s cock drags out from him.
“You like that?” Ghost leers leans in, and nips at the column of his neck. “Want to be mine that badly, you’d let me make you round with my pups?”
“Aye, anything for ye.” Soap whines, digging his face into the scratchy sheets below, back arching. They smell like Ghost, his menthol shampoo, Marlboro reds and home. “Now fuck me.”
“Tsk,” Ghost chastised, but he didn’t say anything further, doing as he was told. Fucking hard enough into Soap that his mouth is forced open against the sheets, and a wet cry is forced from his mouth.
Ghost sets a brutal pace, leaving Soap scrabbling for purchase on the sheets. It’s both everything and nothing like what Soap had imagined. Too much and not enough all at once. He can hear the growls and huffs that Ghost lets out, staking his claim and lost within the pleasure that is sure to be bubbling up within his chest. Distantly, Soap can hear the noises he is making, cries and mewls, and distorted and broken utterances of Ghost’s name. It sounds inhuman, and Soap isn’t sure if it is him speaking. Perhaps he’s been fucked into delusion.
“Holy fuc-” Soap presses his face into the pillow, hips fighting for which direction they should be pushing. Should he move towards the blunt force battering his prostate or steadily away to stave off the overwhelming pleasure that’s begun to peak. “Gho- Simon!”
“That’s it, pup, come on now.” Ghost coos, leaning down to press his wet lips against Soap’s ear. He nips gently, and the moist connection makes Soap distantly realize that Ghost is drooling. His insides churn, hole clenching. “Let everyone know who’s fucking you. Can’t wait for everyone to talk about how you’re mine.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Soap weeps as Ghost’s lips trail from his ear to the crook of his neck. Teeth nip at the flushed skin, leaving marks in their wake. There would be no hiding what had occurred within these four falls, the evidence showing in the form of deep purples, sallow yellows and greens splotched against tan skin. “Simon, oh god, Simon.”
A rough hand moves from his hip, sliding up his chest and cradling his pec. He wonders if Ghost can feel his heart pounding violently in his chest. Sending him hurtling towards orgasm or heart attack, which? He’s not sure. “Got such nice tits too, Johnny boy.” Ghost rasps, hips snapping particularly hard, making Soap choke. Nimble fingers curl around the pebbled nipple, squeezing too hard and making him whimper and squirm. Nothing more than a toy for Ghost to play with. “Gunna look so good when you’re round with our kids,” Soap’s thighs shake, quivering like a frail branch in a storm. “Yeah? Should’ve rutted with you sooner if I knew you’d be gagging for this like a slag.”
“Fu- fuck gaunae to come, Si,” Soap sobs, chest heaving with half-finished gulps of air that only make his lungs burn, never enough to sate his body. His chest has begun to swell, his belly tightening, and his balls pulling closer to his body as he hurtles towards the edge. He knows he’s only a thrust or two from spilling all over Ghost’s sheets. Untouched and desperate.
“I’m not stopping you, pup.” Ghost snickers, using one hand on Soap’s chest and the other on his hip to pull him close. He grinds up against him with a slow, purposeful swivel of his hips to brush against Soap’s prostate repeatedly. “But I’m not stopping until I’m done,” he whispers.
The muscles in his thighs tense, the ball of tension that had begun to build within him clenching for a moment before exploding violently like a charge he dreamt Price would let him use in the field. White heat shoots through his limbs and explodes into stabbing light behind his eyelids, and his voice shatters as he screams Ghost’s name again. Wet warmth lands over the sheets below as his fingers twist till they’re white with tension.
Ghost huffs, content, and Soap smiles as he drowns at the oversensitivity bestowed upon him. He knows this isn’t the end, somewhere far off in his head. Knows that he’s in for a real ride, and right now, it feels good as he’s fucked through the after-shocks. Soap can’t even imagine how something so divine could ever feel bad, but remotely, he knows it’s only over the horizon.
As if in the act of manifestation, that fear and regret begin to lick at Soap’s innards once again when he feels the way his hole stretches further. Rim catching with each rough, jerky thrust. It’s what really makes him wonder if he bit off more than he could chew, knowing there wasn’t any real way to get out of this, which only served to make his cock drool more against the growing wet spot on the sheets. There really was something wrong with him. He’d already finished, softening cock dragging through his still warm spend uncomfortably, and he was quite sure his cock was still drooling with whatever fluids were left within him.
“Gunna knot you,” Ghost murmurs, nails digging into Soap’s arse, hips moving in jerky rough thrusts as he forces the swelling knot into the too-tight space.
“Oh fuck. Oh God, Si,” The words border on a sob, tears brimming at the corners of dazzling blue eyes as he makes weak attempts to scramble away from the onslaught of Ghost’s ministrations. Unsure if he was attempting to escape or if his brain was attempting to do what Soap clearly wouldn’t. “It’s no gaunae fit.”
When Ghost laughs, Soap actually sobs, feeling the thick tears spill over his water line and splat against the sheets below as his body shakes with it. Knows he’s not getting out of this and feels dizzy with the pleasure that the knowledge of that brings. “It will; you said you could take it, so take it, you fucking slag.”
If it were anyone but Ghost, Soap would be embarrassed by the ah, ah, ah’s! that was being fucked out of him. And the way he simultaneously attempted to shuffle away and push back onto each of Ghost’s thrusts. Of the way he let Ghost speak to him and how it only served to make his cock throb.
Soap screams, the sound muffled by the pillow he desperately shoves between his teeth over the feeling of Ghost’s knot threatening to slip past and fill him so wholly and yet Ghost still pulls back, leaving it just a threat. Leaves him teetering on the edge of bliss and destruction. Rapture and ruin are just a thrust away. Ghost has always been a cruel man.
“Si, stop! Fuck. Take it out. Ye cannae-” Soap babbles, even as he grinds back against Ghost’s hip, choking on sobs as his cock hits all the right spots.
“It’s too late, Johnny,” Ghost muses, leans down and licks a wet strip along Soap’s neck. Teeth sinking meanly into the meat of Soap’s shoulder. He’s only vaguely aware of how he can feel the warmth of his blood bubble to the surface of the flesh, staining tanned, freckled skin. “You’re going to be a good pup, and take what I give you.”
Soap’s back arches in a sharp bow when Ghost’s knot pushes past his rim, choking on a gasp as his body fights the intrusion. “That’s it, that’s a good boy. Knew you could do it.” Ghost sneered, grinding his hips against the swell of Soap’s ass as he came inside of Soap with a steady stream of cum. “Gunna knock some pups into you.”
Soap could feel every jerk of Ghost’s cock as it twitched inside of him, filling him with bursts of hot cum. The knot locked them together and prevented any from leaking out. God, Soap felt so full that his eyes rolled back. His body went limp as it was forced to take everything that was being forced upon him. It felt as if Soap’s brain had been thoroughly fucked from his body, and he was only vaguely aware of how Ghost cradled his body, turning them onto their sides. He moans weakly with the movements, each forcing Ghost’s cock to jostle against his prostate and sending a sharp tingle throughout his body.
Instinctively, Soap tries to cant his hips away from Soap’s to relieve the oversensitivity that washes over him in violent waves. Still, it only forced Ghost’s cock deeper and drew laughter from Ghost. Each movement made Soap’s tight ass twitch around Ghost’s knot, tightening and relaxing over and over again. He’s half worried that the movement will make Ghost’s cock swell again in such a short period, and Soap’s worried he won’t be able to take it again.
“M’ so full,” Soap whispers, crying out weakly when Ghost grips Soap’s hips and drags him down into a filthy grind. He feels Ghost’s hand pet over his belly, the gesture sweet and possessive all rolled into one.
“Just like how you should be.” Ghost hums, nuzzling along the back of Soap’s neck sweetly. Soap wonders if Ghost honestly believed he could knock Soap up and how much of this was filth or pure instinct. “Mine, mine, mine.” He whispers, the act reverent, peppering kisses along the sweaty column of flushed skin.
“I’m aw yours, Si.” Soap sighs dreamily, a heaviness washing over his body suddenly as the exertion catches up with him. He wonders distantly if Ghost will use him in his sleep, too, and the thought makes his stomach flip with delight. “Always have been.” He felt the hand petting over his stomach curl around him to hold him closer, the heat Ghost’s radiating only pushing his body further into its tired state, safety and contentment filling him to the brim.
“Rest up, pup.” Ghost murmurs, tongue laving lovingly over Soap’s pulse point. “Because were not stopping till I know you’re good and bred.”