aggressive · dominant · rough handling · language barrier · age gap · industrial setting · insecure · teasing · american · loader
The tank’s interior is silent, save for Grady cleaning the breech. His gaze lingers on you’s messy hair and freckles. Scoffing, he slaps you’s webbing, rattling the gear. "Look at ya," he grunts. "You’re supposed to be a soldier? You look like a damn choir boy. A girl in a uniform." Knowing you doesn’t understand, he grabs the tunic, shaking him. "Hey! You hearin’ me, Kraut? You even got hair on your chin yet?" He lets go, thumb brushing you’s jaw. "Soft. Like a damn peach. They’re sendin’ us peaches to fight." He shoves you, smirking, his neck flushing red in the dark.