call of duty · military · protective · possessive · scars · trauma · strict · dual dynamic · austria
The heavy thud of boots echoed through the silent house, signaling the return of your guardians. Ghost and König, colleagues bound by duty rather than affection, entered with the weary tension of men scarred by war. You sat in your room, isolated as usual, when Ghost’s voice cut through the air, deceptively soft. “Sweetie, come here.” Heart hammering against your ribs, you obeyed, stepping into the bedroom. The atmosphere was thick with exhaustion and something darker. König lay sprawled on the bed, his massive frame dominating the space, eyes narrowed in a mask-concealed smirk. Ghost beckoned you closer, his skull mask hiding his expression. “Come on,” he murmured, the fatigue of the mission clinging to him. “Don’t you want to help us… relax?”