#bear!john

cw: hybrids, pregnancy.

there's nothing else john could've ask for, waking up to his hibernation finally over, all the drowsiness leaving his brawny, fat thickened body slowly, the nature outside the cabin already awake, birds bringing a chirp soothing songs with the first, pale layers of sun, breaking through the loosely curtained window above the wooden headboard of the bed, golden glow highlighting your sleep curled body to warm your skin, soft as a fleece, blanket and furs rumpled, furling at your curved hips.

the bump of your tummy is unmistakable, round, with a barely noticeable, dark vertical line that runs down the center of your abdomen, a little bit hard under his calloused palm, as he smoothes his thumb tentatively over your skin, a deep, gravelly rumble reverberating through his throat, and you answer him even in your sleep, curling in at the feel of his touch, tucking yourself closer to the slope of his side, your palms coming to cup over his own.

you don't say anything when your eyes flutter open, bleary, mirroring the sleepy dizziness that reflects in john's own, tender blues, flicking over your tummy and face with sincere spoken awe and giddiness that makes the corners of his lips curve up, lifting his mutton chops beard, softening his features along the lingering, bed warmed contentment, his heavy, hair dappled hand curling over the line of your exposed hips, palm splaying at the small of your back, tugging you close in an embrace that replaces thousands of words, his face nuzzling against your smile gleaming one.

john and you both don't have to know for sure if there's something growing inside of you, it's obvious, from your pretty round tummy, to the gut deep possessiveness churning inside of him, overcoming his senses with gum aching need to claim, make sure you're safe and pliable with nothing to worry about in his grasp, his face lowering to nudge in the arching curve of your neck, sensitive to the touch of his scraping beard, making you shudder, and smelling mouth drooling good, all ripe and calling, as his sharp teeth nip down.

he makes sure to not overwhelm you, holding his basic instincts in tight grip so as not to pounce at you at any given moment, unable to not think about how good you would've feel around his cock, so sensitive and gorgeous, carrying his offspring while being pumped full of another load, but unfortunately, john has to get a grip, since pregnancy makes you a little bit fuzzy and sleepy, but it's doesn't means he can't get between your thighs and get a taste of your pussy, weeping honey sweet all for him.

bear hybrid john price gets you to hibernate with him, it's not that there's much choice, of course, you wouldn't be wandering around the house and outside much when your spouse is sleeping away, tucked in the warm bed with all the furs and copious pillows, all arranged around him with comfortable softness, yet, he misses the most important, you, and he won't be willing to start his hibernation until you join him.

sure, it's not an easy thing, to match his sleepiness while you're not used to go through such a thing as a human, but your bear spouse will get you all cozied against his side, cradled in a crushing, squishing embrace against the brawny, sculpted plains of his softened chest, dappled in curling, brown thick hairs, coating every ounce of john's skin, his huge pecs, bulky, meaty thighs, the roughened fingers, fluffy as fur, warming you like a furnace, mapping a trail to beneath his underbelly and down to the groin.

you keep the fridge and all the shelves stocked with a lots of food of all kinds, to freshly cooked to something quick to make, and even canned, meats, vegetables, fruits, john needs a good nourishment, and you're too, because he doesn't let's you leave the bed, not with how his heavy body brackets your's against the rumpled, cottony sheets, not a single cloth separating his scarred, supple skin from yours, kindled with suffocating, simmering warmth, holding you close tight, broad fingers sinking in the slopes and dips of your body.

john doesn't wakes up mid hibernation to eat, doesn't really needs it, just as the rest of his kind, no, he flutters his pretty blues groggily and rubs a calloused palm over his bearded, prickly face to get a taste of you, dozed in a light sleep beneath his draping hand, your face pillowed on his bicep, pretty lips pouty, cheeks warm and rounded, flattened against his arm, and your ripe, sweet body is all naked in it's glory, splayed along the linens beneath, relaxed and leaning in the closeness between you both, cunt hidden between the sacred gates of your supple thighs.

the hot, gummy insides of your cunt heavenly around the pulsing, restless girth of his fat cock, dragging in the engulfing tightness of your soppy hole, getting you stretched out and loose to accommodate the thickening length of him, filling you slow and deep, patient, almost lazily so, movements languid as he pushes his wide hips, body bowing and draping over your whole form, cozy and limbless, even though you moan out quiet and groggy when you feel it, the weight of his cock alongside your tender, inner walls.

cw: hybrids, pregnancy, motherhood, giving birth, nothing here is really accurate.

despite the fact that there is no greater joy for john price than knowing that you are pregnant with his cubs, he knows very little about what it is like to carry a child, and even more so he does not know much about the process of childbirth, all his actions are only instinctive, driven by the churning pull of a gnawing need to protect you and make your every will come out real, should you ask for anything at all.

a devoted mate, he is always concerned about your comfort, especially now, knowing how sensitive and vulnerable you are during this period, when all your energy is spent on growing the one who is in your belly, making the child healthy, stronger, so you have to rest more often, take care of your well being and eat as much as possible, which john takes upon himself, walking restlessly around the house every day, from dawn to dusk, assisting you at any given moment.

the bear inside of him, innate, animalistic habit, teases his senses with a growl of a need to keep you hidden, tangled in his arms for till the birthing comes, trapped, having to go through your pregnancy in this same cabin you live in together, in this same furs you sleep beneath every night, in john's pawing, possessive hold, but the nature can be unforgiving, the pregnancy a process he has no say in, and he won't risk your health, no matter how hard the animal in him claws.

john makes sure to find you a gynecologist, the one that would visit you, without needing for you to step outside, let other predators sniff out a pretty thing with her baby bump for anyone to try and court, even though you're long mated, thus, he makes sure that the person that steps through the doorway of your house is a woman, and one that not even close to being a hybrid, to make sure that your pregnancy proceeds smoothly and without possible health problems, once every few weeks.

what bothers you both, is that your baby bump is really, really huge and heavy, you sway around the cabin with breathy grunts and little steps, in which, john has to assist you later, large, calloused warm palms cupping underneath your tummy and lifting, thumbs stroking over the stretched skin and dark line that runs through and down your belly button, easing the tension and the strain you feel all over your body, slumping back against the full, brawny expanse of his chest, sighing in immediate relief, while your husband wonders just how many there are.

BONUS:

sherlock takes roleplaying a little too seriously