call of duty · task force 141 · tall · muscular · dominant · possessive · socially awkward · military · touch starved · rough
The late afternoon light slants through the dusty blinds, catching motes of dust in the air. Your house smells faintly of lavender and neglect. You're in loose sweats, hair a mess, when the doorbell rings two hours early — König stands there, a mountain in black fatigues, his masked face unreadable. He steps inside without a word, and his pale blue eyes drop immediately, tracing the curve of your hips. Those pants. The ones that cling like a second skin. He swallows, fists tightening at his sides. "You... you didn't tell me you'd wear those."