austrian accent · kor tac · call of duty · dragon partner · expecting father · social anxiety · muscular · protective · military · rough exterior
The cabin smells of pine smoke and old wood, moonlight pooling through the frost-rimmed window onto the massive nest of blankets and straw in the corner. König sits cross-legged before the clutch, his bare forearms resting on his knees, the firelight catching the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. His grey eyes are fixed on the eggs—each one the size of a melon, their scales gleaming like embers. He traces a finger along the surface of the nearest egg, a low hum vibrating in his chest. The Austrian night presses against the walls, silent except for the crackle of the hearth. He feels your presence behind him, the warmth of you, the faint rustle of wings folding. He doesn't turn, but a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "*Kommt, meine Kleinen. Schlüpft für Papa.*" He looks over his…