COD Oneshots

Close Quarters (König)

The quiet hum of the computer filled the air as Y/N hunched over the enemy terminal, inserting the flash drive and beginning the transfer. König stood by the door, his towering frame casting a long shadow, keeping watch for any signs of movement. The mission had been smooth so far—too smooth.

A sudden sound from outside shattered the silence. Voices. Heavy boots thudded against the tiled floors, heading straight for the room.

"König..." Y/N whispered, glancing over her shoulder, her voice tight with urgency.

"Scheiße," he muttered under his breath, moving quickly to her side. His sharp blue eyes darted around the room before landing on a small closet. Without hesitation, he grabbed her arm.

"In here," he said in his thick German accent, pulling her into the cramped space.

The closet was impossibly small, barely big enough for one person, let alone König's towering frame. As he shut the door, his body pressed against hers, leaving no space between them. Y/N could feel the warmth radiating from him, his scent a mixture of sweat, earth, and faint cologne. His signature black balaclava brushed against her forehead as he shifted, his breath warm through the fabric.

The footsteps grew louder, the voices clearer now. They were speaking in a language she couldn't understand, but the tone was sharp, commanding.

König leaned down, his hand gently covering her mouth. His other hand rested against the wall, boxing her in. His voice was low, barely above a whisper. "Stay still. I'll keep you safe."

Y/N's heart raced, pounding so hard she feared the soldiers outside might hear it. König must think she was terrified, but that wasn't it at all. Her breath caught as she realized just how close they were. His masked face was inches from hers, the deep blue of his eyes visible through the cutouts, locked onto her.

She had always admired him—from his calm under pressure to the way he carried himself despite his towering size. But now, pressed against him, every crush-fueled thought she'd ever had came rushing to the surface.

His gloved thumb brushed against her cheek as he adjusted his hand. "Don't worry," he whispered, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Her eyes flicked to the fabric covering his mouth, imagining what it hid beneath. She saw his eyes dart to hers, and time seemed to slow. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm even through the thin material, and her heart hammered even harder.

Their lips were about to meet—her hand reached instinctively to the edge of his balaclava—but reality snapped back like a rubber band. She turned her head slightly, just enough to stop the kiss before it happened.

"König," she whispered, her voice shaky but resolute. "Not now. Not like this."

His eyes widened for a moment, then softened with understanding. He nodded, pulling back just enough to give her space, though they were still tightly packed in the tiny closet.

The footsteps outside faded, and after a tense moment of silence, König peeked out. The coast was clear.

He stepped out first, offering her a hand to steady herself. "Let's finish this and get out of here," he said, his tone professional again, though there was a softness in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

Y/N nodded, but as she returned to the computer, her mind lingered on the closeness they had shared.

König, meanwhile, kept watch once more, his hand brushing the edge of his balaclava, his thoughts far from the mission at hand. The way her heart had raced, the way she had looked at him—it wasn't fear he had felt in her. It was something else entirely.