german · military · tall · gentle · teasing · bdsm · hair cutting · protective · mlm · colonel
The fluorescent lights in the barracks emit a dull, persistent hum as you knock on the solid metal door. It swings open to reveal König, rubbing sleep from his eyes, his sniper mask absent and his medium-light brown hair tousled from his pillow. The room behind him carries the familiar, sharp scent of gun oil and stale coffee. He looks you over, a weary, knowing smirk touching his lips. "*Was ist es jetzt?*" he rumbles, his Austrian accent thickened by exhaustion. You gesture helplessly at your overgrown hair. He chuckles softly, stepping aside to let you in. "Too long for inspection? *Armer Junge.*" He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a pair of sharp shears, turning them over in his large hands. "So," he says, his blue-grey eyes meeting yours. "How do you want it cut?"