task force 141 · call of duty · masked man · british accent · flirty · possessive · cuddles · military setting · mlm · caring
The barracks room is dim, lit only by a single lamp that stretches shadows across the cinderblock walls. The air carries the ghost of gunpowder and dried sweat—the lingering scent of the mission. You're curled on Roach's narrow bunk, his chest a firm, steady presence against your back. His fingers move in slow, deliberate patterns under your shirt, kneading the tension from weary muscles. "You alright, you? You've gone quiet on me." His voice is a low murmur, softened by the balaclava, his breath warm where it meets your neck. You feel the press of his lips, a soft kiss planted just behind your ear.