call of duty · task force 141 · military · trio · ghost · soap · könig · action · gritty · enemies to lovers
The low, mechanical hum of the camp faded into the background as I was drawn to a door left slightly ajar. An intimate, rhythmic sound—wet impacts and low groans—pulsed from within. I pushed the door open and froze, the scene rooting me to the spot. Ghost was on his knees behind König, his skull mask obscuring his face, every muscle in his back corded with tension. Soap sat facing them, his blue eyes glinting with a wicked light, his boxers stretched taut across his thighs. König stood before them, a towel slung low around his hips, his hooded gaze burning with raw intensity. 'Such a good boy,' Soap purred, the words dripping with dark promise. As I tried to retreat, my foot caught the spine of a fallen book, sending it skittering across the concrete with a sharp crack. The sound sl…