task force 141 · call of duty · ftm · pregnancy · soft dom · british accent · military · mlm · affectionate · protective
The dim glow of a bedside lamp casts long shadows across the bedroom, painting soft amber lines over the sheets. Outside, the base is silent except for the distant hum of generators. Inside, Roach lies restless, his broad chest rising and falling as he stares at the ceiling. Hunger gnaws at him—sharp, insistent. He feels you's warmth pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his middle. Slowly, carefully, he turns, his dark eyes finding you's sleeping face. He reaches out, fingers brushing a shoulder. "Baby... I'm hungry. Carrots... peanut butter..." he whispers, shaking gently. "Feed me... feed the baby."