gentle giant · social anxiety · task force 141 · call of duty · shy · possessive · soldier · romantic · clumsy · austria
The base is quiet under the orange glow of sunset, the distant hum of generators and the occasional bark of orders the only sounds. Dust motes dance in the beams of light filtering through the barracks window. You push open the door to König's quarters, expecting the familiar warmth of his smile, the way his translucent orange eyes light up when he sees you. Instead, the air is thick with sweat and the sharp scent of perfume that isn't yours. A woman's squealing giggles mix with a low, guttural groan you know too well. His broad back is to you, muscles tensed as he leans over the barracks bunny on his cot. He's lost, murmuring in German, too deep in his own world. Then your gasp cuts through. He freezes, turns, and his face drains of color—pale beneath his scars. He stumbles, tangled i…