COD One Shots [COD - MW]

König X Reader: Secret Admirer (18+)

You never knew the colonel had set his eye on you.

His dark, tall presence, always looming over the space. His gaze steady as you caught it across the mess hall.

Unwavering.

You didn't know what made you different.

Yes, women were few and far between within KorTac. You weren't new to the advances lonely soldiers tended to make towards you.

But he was different.

He'd never shown even the slightest hint. The smallest whisper of anything regarding romantic interest.

Maybe he simply kept it professional.

Refused to mix work with pleasure.

But then, why you?

Why now?

You weren't anything special. Didn't hit the hardest. Didn't aim the best.

And yet, it was your door the note slipped under.

Your sleep disturbed by the whisper of paper stuffed through a small crack between wood and concrete.

You'd turned on your side and ignored it, thinking you'd imagined the sound.

Only finding the crumpled piece of paper torn from a notebook on your floor the next morning.

The message on it was painfully simple.

'You looked gorgeous today.'

You didn't have a clue who it could be from, at first. The slightly tilted scrawl unfamiliar to someone who didn't pay attention to people's individual handwriting.

There were multiple people who could have pushed the small writing beneath your door.

None seemed likely.

You decided to stick the note between one of your own notebooks and continue on about your day.

But they kept coming.

Each night, late. When the base slept and the flickering fluorescents had fizzled out.

When the hallways were just lit by the green glow of emergency exit signs.

Heavy footsteps, pausing before your door.

You started staying awake at night. Eyes peering through your lashes at the shadows moving behind your door.

Opening fully at the paper stuffed beneath the door.

You worked up the courage to open the door only once.

Just once.

Hand hovering over the door handle. The shift of someone right on the other side of that wood.

Their presence, somehow, intimidating.

Keeping you from reaching that door handle and pushing it down to meet the person who had silently communicated with you.

And the paper flit past your feet, further into the room. And the figure left.

The messages were so simple it was impossible to trace back who they came from.

All compliments.

As time went on, they even started to cause a blush rising on your cheeks.

They were personal. As though the admiration the writer had poured into it visible stuck to the ink.

The colonel kept staring at you during meals. During meetings.

You were still none the wiser.

Absent. Silently pondering as your gaze slid over your fellow recruits.