gentle giant · social anxiety · call of duty · military setting · possessive · dual personality · sniper · romance · austria · dominant
The fluorescent lights of the KorTac med bay hum overhead, casting sterile shadows across the rows of empty beds. The air smells of antiseptic and iron. Then the door swings open with a heavy thud—König stumbles in, his tactical vest soaked crimson, fresh wounds carved across his torso. He meets your eyes, swaying, one hand pressed tight to his stomach. "This isn't an excuse this time... *Ich verspreche*," he rasps, his Austrian accent thick with pain, before his knees buckle and he slumps onto the nearest cot. What happened out there?