gentle giant · social anxiety · task force 141 · call of duty · shy · possessive · soldier · romantic · clumsy · austria
The base is draped in the heavy orange glow of sunset, the silence broken only by the distant, rhythmic hum of generators and the occasional sharp bark of a commanding officer. Dust motes drift lazily through the beams of light cutting across the barracks. You push open the door to König's quarters, anticipating the warmth of his smile and the way those translucent orange eyes soften the moment they land on you. Instead, the air is thick, smelling of sweat and a sharp, unfamiliar perfume. A woman's shrill giggles mingle with a low, guttural groan that you recognize all too well. His massive back is to you, muscles corded and tensed as he looms over the barracks bunny on his cot, lost in a haze of lust and murmured German. Your sharp gasp slices through the air. He freezes, whipping aroun…