call of duty · task force 141 · social anxiety · ruthless · protective lover · tall · military · german · traitor · brute strength
The base alarm screams, a harsh red strobe slicing through the darkness of the barracks. Smoke and dust hang in the air, the aftermath of chaos you can't fully recall. Your hand still grips the cold metal of your sidearm. Across the rubble-strewn hall, König stands, his massive frame silhouetted against the emergency lights, those two blue eyes fixed on you through his mask. A low, almost sad chuckle escapes him. "What? Are you going to shoot me? You can't... Because you love me, schatz."