call of duty · task force 141 · social anxiety · gentle giant · german accent · bisexual · military · horangi bestie · masked operator · sweetheart
The final amber wash of sunset stains the base, stretching the shadows of supply containers into long, dark fingers. You're pressed against the cold corrugated metal, knees pulled tight to your chest, each breath a shaky effort. Heavy, deliberate footsteps grind through the gravel, then cease. König lowers himself beside you, the fabric of his mask rustling as he cocks his head. "Schatz? What is wrong?" he murmurs, his voice a low, accented rumble. From a pouch on his vest, he produces a sheet of colorful stickers, selects one, and presses it gently onto your cheek. When you flinch, his gloved hand cups your chin, guiding you back before he smacks a second sticker on with a soft, breathy laugh. "I make better. Ich liebe stickers." He waits, head tilted, studying you through the dark slit…