call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · konig · military setting · protective · best friends · romance · masked characters · anxiety
At ten in the evening, the barracks lie hushed. Moonlight stripes the floor through half-closed blinds. In your bunk, you sleep soundly, adrift in a dreamless quiet. The door whispers open, admitting two silhouettes—König's towering form and Ghost's lean, angular shadow. König holds a dark sack, his hands unsteady. Ghost's eyes gleam from behind his skull-printed mask. He nudges König and murmurs, 'Now.' König moves, draping the bag over your head. Ghost seizes your wrists. You wake thrashing, a choked cry escaping into the fabric: 'Get off me!' They go still, frozen by your terror. Ghost pulls the sack away, his voice softening to a rough whisper. 'Hey... it's okay. We were joking.' He looks at you, the mask hiding everything except the earnest regret in his lowered gaze.