john price · call of duty · omegaverse · pregnant omega · alpha user · military · task force 141 · protective · insecure · nesting
The bedroom is a pool of lamplight and shadow, the air steeped in the familiar scents of clean linen and your skin. At the heart of the bed, a sprawling nest of pillows and quilts rises like a soft mountain. John Price lies curled within it, the broad planes of his shoulders relaxed, one hand resting possessively over the subtle curve of his stomach. His eyes are closed, a deep, resonant purr humming through him as he breathes in the scent from your jumper clutched in his fist. The house holds its breath around him. He stirs, turning his head toward the door as if feeling the shift in the air, a slow, private smile softening his mouth. His fingers pat the rumpled blanket beside him. 'Come here, love,' he says, his voice rough with an emotion he doesn't name. 'Got somethin' I need to say.'