COD Oneshots

Dreams 2 (Roach)

The low hum of the plane's engines masked the sound of Roach's heart thrumming in his chest as he sat in the small cabin, surrounded by the muted gray of the interior. The aftermath of their latest mission—a tense, high-stakes operation behind enemy lines—still clung to him like the weight of the gear slung over his shoulder. But amidst that stress, one thought burned brighter than the others: Y/n.

She sat beside him, her face illuminated by the faint glow of the emergency lights overhead. They had shared countless missions, battles fought side by side, laughter echoing in the bleakest of places. But now, in the confined space of the aircraft, something had shifted, and Roach was acutely aware of the change. His feelings for her had morphed from platonic camaraderie into something deeper—a desire that consumed his thoughts when he should have been focused on survival.

He glanced at her, the gentle rise and fall of her chest signaling a peaceful sleep. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her face, framing her features like a halo. There was a vulnerability in her slumber that struck him, leaving him momentarily frozen. The memory of her whispering his name in her sleep during their last mission flashed in his mind. The haunting way her lips curled around the syllables, laced with an alluring mix of need and affection, sent a rush of warmth through him.

He shifted, trying to direct his attention elsewhere. The cockpit was just a few feet away, filled with the pilot's soft chatter and the occasional crackle of the radio. But the sheer proximity of Y/n drew him back—her presence tethered him to a reality he was desperate to explore. The way she had murmured his name, a quiet plea tinged with longing, ignited a fire within him, and he found himself caught in a web of uncertainty and desire.

As if sensing his gaze, her head lulled onto his shoulder. Roach's breath caught in his throat. It was a simple act, one that would seem innocent to an outsider, yet to him it felt monumental. In that moment, time slipped away; the roar of the engines faded, replaced by the soft rhythm of her breathing. He dared not move, too afraid of waking her, yet the warmth radiating from her body sent pulsing electricity through him.

She stirred slightly, and he felt her breath ghost across his skin. A shiver cascaded down his spine at the thought, and he clenched his jaw to stave off any wild impulse that threatened to overtake him. But as her eyes fluttered shut, the murmurs began again. Faint and dreamy, they were almost inaudible over the drone of the aircraft, yet Roach strained to catch every word. His heart pounded as syllables began to form—his name, a soft petal of sound that danced in the air.

"Roach..." she murmured.

A blush crept up his neck. The gentle timbre of her voice, so imbued with passion even in sleep, was intoxicating. A plethora of images flooded through his mind—what could she be dreaming about? Was he in those dreams? And if so, how?

His thoughts spiraled out of control, spiraling into fantasies he had long suppressed. He imagined the simple brush of her fingers against his, the heat of her skin against his own, the closeness of their bodies unhindered by the weight of duty. What would it be like to wrap his arms around her, to kiss her and feel her respond—surrendering to each other the way they had surrendered themselves to conflicts time and again?

But amid the temptation, guilt clawed at him. He wasn't just another distraction; he was her partner in the line of duty, her ally in the midst of chaos. Was it selfish to think of his desires now? He cast a furtive glance around the cabin, the other soldiers oblivious to the storm raging within him. The muted conversations continued, the vibrancy of the world outside their dwindling mission drawing closer to a close.

In an effort to quell his conflicted emotions, he attempted to straighten up, keeping his breathing steady. But Y/n shifted again, nestling deeper against him, and all thoughts of retreat crumbled. The sight of her peacefully asleep—her trust palpable—melted away the stiff resolve he had built up.

"Harder..." her voice drifted through the air, soft yet clear, punctuating the silence that enveloped them.

His breath hitched. The desire to pull away slipped through his fingers like delicate sand, instead burning stronger. The word seemed to resonate with him, transforming the innocent yet lingering intimacy of the moment into something darker, more profound.

What had begun as mere attraction burgeoned into a primal urge—a need that begged to be satisfied. He bit his lip, desperately holding his feelings at bay. He focused on the mission, the camaraderie, and the fact that he had to keep her safe. Yet her body against his, the drifting warmth of her sleepy murmurs, made that difficult.

He closed his eyes briefly, trying to suppress the longing swirling within him, but it enveloped him, a haunting rhythm that echoed in concert with the slow thud of his heart. Each muffled sound from her lips beckoned to him, pulling him deeper into a turmoil of yearning and restraint that made his head spin.

When he finally opened his eyes, the plane was beginning to descend, the atmosphere inside the cabin shifting slightly as the gravity of their current mission loomed closer. Y/n stirred awake, blinking up at him, confusion settling momentarily on her face before she smiled.

"Did I fall asleep?" she asked, her voice still thick with drowsiness.

Roach swallowed hard, her gaze both grounding and electrifying. He had to tread carefully. "Just for a moment," he replied, trying to maintain a chill demeanor while his insides wriggled with unsaid words.

They exchanged glances that lingered slightly too long, charges swirling in the air between them—an invitation or a challenge, he wasn't sure.

And as the plane touched down, Roach realized that while they would soon step back into the fray of their lives, something had irrevocably changed. He could no longer ignore the fierce urge to reach out, to taste the connection that had ignited between them. The war for their hearts might have just begun, but the battlefield awaited just beyond the cabin doors.

In the depths of his soul, he hoped Y/n would be ready to cross into uncharted territory with him—and admit that the dream he desperately wanted to make a reality might not be just his own after all.