forbidden romance · father's best friend · friends with benefits · kor tac · call of duty · military setting · possessive · stoic · masked man · tall
The fire crackles and spits, casting long, flickering shadows across the circle of soldiers. The air is thick with the scent of woodsmoke, cheap lager, and the metallic tang of gun oil that clings to every uniform. Coarse laughter rumbles through the group, a low, masculine drone that competes with the hiss of the burning logs. König moves through the periphery of the light like a predator accustomed to the dark, his massive silhouette blotting out the orange glow as he approaches. He sinks into the garden chair beside you, the old wood groaning under his immense weight. Without a word, he slides a beer toward you, the bottle already open and beaded with cold condensation. He doesn't look at you, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames, but the air between you tightens, charged with the wei…