#......................................................uhm

He's never had a mate during hibernation, and as a result his instincts are screaming at him to prepare you for the colder harsh winters as well. Price spends more time in the kitchen than out, meal prepping and planning dishes for the both of you.

"You did this to me, john..." you groan, crawling into bed, slow and lethargic, one hand cradling your stomach. "I'm going to die...and you did this...."

"I told you not to eat so much, runt." Two large hands scoop you up into prices lap, tugging you closer while you whine. "Yer not made for it, hm? Too full now."

Price presses against your bloated stomach teasingly, only for you two whine and turn, tucking your face into his neck. That earns you more coos, more amused at your predicament than apologetic. price leaning back so you can properly lie on him "shhh, it's okay cub. I'm sorry for teasing."

He doesn't mind when you keen and knead at the fat of his chest or belly, your own discomfort turning you into a needy cuddle bug. Price is warm and soft and you can almost forget how you'll throw up if someone presses too hard on your tummy right now.