Something something
Alpha!Soap who doesn’t have an omega. Never felt the bond of fate like so many of his friends and fellow soldiers. The one where they say it’s strikes into your chest like lightning when you smell the scent of the person you’re meant to be with.
Like soulmates.
Soap didn’t believe in soulmates.
Not in a world like this.
Or at least. He didn’t. Until he met you.
During a mission. Gun raised steadily at your face while you glared at him, and called him every swear under the sun. Like you weren’t afraid to die. Like you were afraid that you wouldn’t get to finish cursing him out.
And as he stepped towards you with a slow measured gait, never once dropping that gun? As he pressed the cold steel to your temple and told you to pray to whatever you believed in. He felt it.
He felt your heart kick up, and smelled your lust.
Christ. You were a freak.
He couldn’t quite figure out what had happened. Like his stomach had been flipped and his heart had stopped.
Whatever it was it had mushed his brain. All his could think about was how good you smelled. And he didn’t want to kill you anymore. He wanted to pin you against a tree and fuck the breath from you.
So he did.
———
You whined when his hips tilted at just the right angle. Your nails biting into the bark of a tree as the enemy took you from behind, and you liked it.
Liked that he smelled like blood and sweat and gun oil. Liked that he growled at you to shut up, and when he flipped you around your teeth dig into shoulder hard enough to draw blood.
Hard enough to have him babbling nonsense as he fills you with his spend and you break around his cock.
And you smiled sleepily, as you pressed his own gun to the hollow dip of his throat.
Afterall, you were still enemies.