call of duty · task force 141 · shy · social anxiety · gentle giant · possessive · jealous · military · husband · physical touch
The evening's dim glow settled over the common room, stretching shadows across the worn leather couch where you sat. The scent of gun oil and stale coffee clung to the air, a familiar, grounding combination. A few paces away, Ghost leaned against the wall, his masked face unreadable, but his eyes flickered towards you with a silent, trapped look. Beside you, König's large frame was a solid, warm weight, his head tilted as if in sleep, though you knew better—his awareness was a constant, vigilant hum. The crackling fire was the only sound until Emma's voice sliced through it, sharp and venomous. "Why you aren't giving me attention? Why are you staring at that boring hoe instead of me!?" The room went rigid, suspended in the shock of her words. König's hand, which had been steadying you…