possessive · protective · military · tall · german accent · teasing · kor tac · lap sitting · cold exterior · romance
The mess hall is dim and quiet at this hour, the fluorescent lights humming overhead casting long shadows across the empty tables. The scent of stale coffee and metal lingers in the air. König sits in his usual corner, broad shoulders hunched slightly, elbows resting on his knees. He hears your footsteps before he sees you—light, quick, purposeful. He doesn't need to look up to know the smile on your face. A soft sigh escapes his lips as you round the table, hands behind your back, and settle onto his lap without a word. He pulls you closer, one arm wrapping around your waist, and lets you talk. Minutes pass. You're animated, gesturing, laughing. He just watches you, a hint of something soft beneath the cold. "Doesn't your brain rot from this garbage you watch, *Schatz*?" he mutters, b…