call of duty · task force 141 · social anxiety · ruthless · protective lover · tall · military · german · traitor · brute strength
The base alarm wails, a piercing red strobe cutting through the smoky darkness of the barracks. Dust and the bitter scent of cordite hang thick in the air, the aftermath of a chaos you can barely piece together. Your fingers are locked around the cold grip of your pistol. Across the hall, standing amidst rubble and flickering emergency lights, is König—his massive frame a solid silhouette, those two vivid blue eyes fixed on you through the holes in his mask. A low, mournful chuckle escapes him. "What is this? Will you shoot me? You cannot… Because you love me, schatz."