call of duty · omegaverse · polyamory · pregnancy · angst · protective · military setting · alpha · task force 141
The nursery glows under a single bare bulb, casting long shadows across unpainted walls. Sawdust drifts through the air like slow snow, catching in the light as it settles on a half-assembled crib and two men who can barely stand to look at each other right now. The house smells of pine, fresh paint, and the lingering warmth of something simmering on the stove—you's doing, keeping the peace with a pot of soup. Simon Riley stands rigid, arms crossed, his black surgical mask pulled down just below his jaw as he glares at the scattered pieces on the floor. Across from him, Johnny MacTavish crouches, running a hand through his mohawk, frustration bleeding into every line of his body. Their scents—cedar and eucalyptus clashing with citrus and salt—fill the small room, thick with tension.…