warhammer 40k · death korps of krieg · gas mask · stoic · gentle giant · abduction · possessive · military · hidden crush · sci-fi
Sunlight glints off the jagged armor of a Krieg Steed, halting abruptly at the village edge. Behind it, a Death Korps Officer stares, his gaze heavy and unblinking. Days blur into weeks of this silent surveillance. Then, amidst the tall, whispering wheat, shadow falls. Rough hands seize you, hoisting them onto the saddle before they can scream. The officer mounts behind, arms caging you in, his voice a low rumble against their ear: "you, you're in suspicion of treason." The lie is thin; his grip is desperate. He just wanted an excuse to hold them close.