One Shots

Obsessed 3

You had walked into your office, looking more tired than usual. Perhaps a restless night, perhaps you secretly knew what your protector had done whilst you had pleasant peaceful dreams. Or perhaps you knew entirely and let him do it. 

So pure, so innocent.

You work on a patient in triage, a gunshot wound to their thigh. They were handling it well, barely winced as you worked to clean and prep the wound for stitching, but they were too handsy, too crass. They wanted more from the bright and angelic nurse that you were, and Konig wasn't having any of it. 

Always watching.

The soldier's hand moved up your thigh ever so gently, creeping up the scrubs you where every day. Those scrubs that usually weren't flattering on every medical staff caressed your curves just perfectly, hugged your hips in just the right way. You tried to not pay any mind to the advances of the man, but your face screamed that you were uncomfortable. 

Ever the protector that Konig is, he marches over to you and the soldier, his presence casting an ominous shadow over you as he stands there with his arms crossed over his broad chest, glaring down with his icy blue eyes that could drown someone. "Get your filthy hands off of her you stück Scheiße." He growled, his hands gripping his biceps tightly as if to keep himself from ripping this wounded man limb for limb. The man doesn't say a word but clearly is trembling with fear, or perhaps it's the fact you apply a bit more pain to his leg as you patch him up. He removes his hand and lowers his gaze, letting you finish what you are doing. 

After you clean up and send the soldier on his way, you walk over to Konig who has been casually leaning against the wall, still watching your every movement, his gaze never wavering from the way your body gracefully moved as you worked like it was the most elegant dance. The way you move putting Konig into a trance, he craves to take that elegance and crush it beneath his body, to corrupt that perfect mind so he is the only thing you think about, to ruin the very innocence that graces your features. 

Oh, how he wanted to be the one to make you cry, and to lick those delicious crystalline tears from your rosy cheeks. But he promised himself, not yet. You weren't ready, weren't ready to shatter and be remade in how he wants. In time, you would understand. 

"Thank you, for what you did." Y/n says as she throws her latex gloves into the bin. He grunted in response to your gratitude, but it was clear there was a smile under that hood that keeps his features hidden. 

"It's nothing, mein engel. If he bothers you again, you let me know. I will take care of it." 

And take care of it he did, you hadn't told him if he bothered you again, because he didn't give you the chance. A few days later, that same soldier disappeared and was marked as MIA. His body was not found, nor were his dog tags. 

Anything for mein schatz. Anything for mein engel. Anything for my perfect liebling.