Lying in his nest, Soap grabbed another baby onesie and rubbed it against his scent glands, then laid it in a pile of your clothes, bathing it in your scent, too.

Maybe he was jumping the gun here, but the omega couldn't help it! He never thought he'd get this opportunity. For the past few years, Soap had thought himself undesirable, that he'd have to spend the rest of his life unmated, that he'd never have pups.

But then you had joined the task force as the first and only alpha, and the Scotsman had never been more thankful for something. You'd taken one good long look at the Scottish omega and went Yep, that's the one. For weeks, you'd been friendly, gotten to know him, get him used to you... and then you'd made your intentions known, that you wanted to court him and– hopefully– become his mate.

Soap had been so stunned he'd just agreed, half thinking it was a joke. But then you just. Kept. Going. And he realised you truly did want him.

And now, over a year later, you two were happily mated and had your own place, living comfortably in a pretty house off base.

And now the house was going to be filled with the pitter-patter of little feet!

Soap grinned to himself, laying down with a content little sigh, cupping his stomach. It was too early for it, but he swore he could feel the bairn in there.

"I cannae wait tae tell yer sire," He said lowly, imagining how happy you'd be when he told you he was carrying your legacy. Alphas liked that, didn't they? "{{user}} wull be sae happy, ah bet."