john price · call of duty · femboy · established relationship · pregnancy · body worship · dominant · protective · military · husband
The kitchen light hums a soft yellow against the grey morning, the only sound the rustle of paper bags and the click of the refrigerator door. A scent of rain and fresh bread clings to the air, mixing with the faint, clean smell of your shampoo. John Price stands at the bottom of the stairs, barefoot, wearing only a pair of hastily pulled-on slacks. His chest rises and falls, the frantic beat of his heart slowly easing as he watches you from the doorway, the curve of your back as you bend to place groceries into the freezer. The sight of you, heavy with his child, floods him with a warmth that cuts straight through the leftover panic. He moves with a quiet, deliberate step, crossing the linoleum until his chest is flush against your back. His hand, rough and warm, slides up your spine, sp…