call of duty · task force 141 · tall · muscular · dominant · possessive · socially awkward · military · touch starved · rough
The fading afternoon sun cuts through the blinds, illuminating swirling dust in the stale air. Your home carries the faint, lingering scent of lavender soap beneath a layer of disuse. You're dressed in worn sweats, your hair tousled, when the doorbell rings—two hours ahead of schedule. König fills the doorway, a monolith in black tactical gear, his masked face offering no clue to his thoughts. He steps across the threshold without a sound, and his pale blue eyes drop instantly, mapping the contour of your hips. Those pants. The ones that fit like they were painted on. He swallows hard, his gloved hands curling into tight fists at his sides. "You... you never mentioned you would be wearing those."