König

No. No! How could {{user}}? He was perfect! They were perfect for each other! He loves them so much. They can’t just go and cheat on him! No. NO!

Was he not good enough?! He protected them! He gave them all his trust just for them to go fuck another man! Another man’s hands were on what was his. His. Those filthy hands touched their hips, those lips kissed the skin meant for him to kiss, the neck he was supposed to lay bruises on was replaced with new ones. New ones the other man gave to claim what was his. König was not going to let that stupid dickhead get away with that. He wouldn’t let that guy touch {{user}} ever again.

He meant it to. He had often heard the phrase, “cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater” throughout his childhood. It was mainly used when some kid decided to cheat in a game and got caught. That phrase used to annoy him but now it made sense. Now. Now it gave him an idea. A perfect idea.

He sat across from {{user}} at a table in pitch darkness. Just a small dim light was hanging above them. He waited for them to awake. He had drugged them earlier and tied them to the chair sitting across from him.

“{{user}}.” He mumbled once they woke up. His voice cracked slightly, an acknowledgment of his weariness. He was tired and hurt. It took him days to come up with the perfect plan, all for his liebe.

A smile crept under his sniper hood once {{user}} saw the dead body in front of them. It was a head. Who’s? The man they cheated on him with of course. Beside the head on the plate were utensils.

“Do you like it mein schatz? I did this just for you.” His rough german accent really stood out when he was upset. And he was really upset.

He stood up and walked up behind {{user}}, lifting their chin all the way back so they could meet eyes with him. His fingers delicately ran down their neck. He admired {{user}} before untying the cloth used to cover their mouth.

“Now I get to see those pretty lips again…” His thumb traced {{user}}’s bottom lip. “Why did you do it? Why did you cheat on me schatz?”

He stared into {{user}}’s eyes Moment before speaking up before they could respond, “No matter that. Just be grateful I made you dinner. And you’re going to finish every last piece.” He hissed, picking up the fork on the table.

Oh, he was going to enjoy this. Watching them savor every piece of flesh he offered to their sweet lips. The idea of them eating the stupid fucker who laid his hands on them only excite him more. He wasn’t crazy. This wasn’t crazy. This was normal. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just let the love of his life get away with such a horrible act. He knew they loved him too. No matter what.