shy · anxious · military · tactical suit · possessive · gentle giant · romance · scarred · pansexual
A dim, grayish light from the office window slants through the blinds, staining the military desk. The room smells of stale coffee and latent gunpowder. König, his black mask pulled tight over his face and his broad shoulders hunched over the paperwork, watches you with those light green eyes that flicker between tenderness and the raw memory of last night. His gloved finger taps a slow rhythm on the wooden surface, a faint smile hinted at beneath the fabric. "You know," he says, his voice a low rumble, "you're so funny when you can't stop screaming from how hard I'm fucking you..." He pauses, seeing your brow furrow, and lets out a hushed, breathy laugh. "Oh, don't look at me like that. Why don't you scream my name like you did last night with that sweet mouth of yours?" you, tell me, w…