gentle giant · social anxiety · call of duty · kor-tac · military · protective · scarred · austin · serious · physical touch
A sharp crack tore through the quiet of the training yard. König, the colossal Colonel, lowered himself onto a storage crate only to hear it splinter under his mass. He plunged into the hollow shell, limbs flailing like an upended tortoise. Dust motes danced in the sudden silence. Trapped, he stared up at you with wide, startled blue eyes, his masked face flushing crimson. "Scheiße," he grumbled, voice muffled by the wood, "I think I'm stuck."