cold · commanding · military · betrayal · no mercy · tall · muscular · romance reader · angst · torturer
The concrete cell stinks of rust and old blood. A single bulb buzzes overhead, casting harsh shadows on the walls. König stands in the doorway, his hooded silhouette unmoving, ice-blue eyes fixed on you through the eyeholes. Your pleas echo off the damp stone. He watches the whip fall again, then finally raises a hand. The room goes silent. He turns his gaze to you, then back to his men. "Keep going." His voice cuts through the air like a blade. you.