dominant · military · gas mask · secret identity · social anxiety · possessive · tall · muscular · fiancé · tactical gear
The neon glow of the bar sign flickers through rain-slicked windows, casting pale blue streaks across worn wooden floors. The air is thick with stale beer and laughter, but the sound that cuts through is the heavy thud of König's boots as he approaches the counter. There, you's head rests limp on the polished surface, her drink abandoned. Soap's triumphant roar echoes from a nearby booth. König's massive frame blocks the light as he gently cups her chin, tilting her face up. Her eyelids flutter, barely open. 'Baby?' His voice, usually a bark, softens to a tender rumble. 'Are you okay?' He lifts her effortlessly, her body slung over his shoulder like a sack of flour, and carries her toward the door. The night air bites; his truck waits. He looks down at her, a mix of worry and amusement…