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callooopie · 7 months ago

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Modern!Davos Blackwood headcannons (pt. 1?)

— SFW —

I’ll hit it from the back, just so you don’t get attached — i like the way you kiss me // artemas

I can definitely see myself making more of these. Adding to the modern! Davos lore. Not proofread. LMK if y’all have other ideas or headcannons too!

Benjicot Davos Blackwood. People call him Davos. Only close friends call him Ben. Only you can call him Benji. Although, he goes by his middle name usually. Now, bloody Ben? That’s a story to be told later on how he got... (There is no story. It’s just people saying “Shit.. there’s bloody Ben..” or something like that. There’s no violence to the name, only pure exasperation when people see him)

This is the boy you need to hide away in your closet or under your bed when your parents come checking in on you randomly. You could’ve been working on homework, or just hanging around. And somehow this “annoying” guy appeared outside your bedroom window—and you just had to let him in. “C’mooon, let me in sweetheart.. you think I can’t climb up there? Stand back, I’ll show you.”

He is the type of person to rant about how the education system is rigged, set up to fail students, or rant about it in general and as a whole. Anyway he’s got a 4.0, and makes it onto the dean’s list every semester in college. However he is always late to class—complete with either a Monster or Red Bull drink in tow.

He invites you over to his place like a gentleman. Ignore his “annoying fuckass” roommate.. (it’s Aeron.) He does the whole (“it’s a little messy :3”) as he leads you down the hall of their apartment. “Hello MTV, welcome to my crib.”

He cooks at that desk, game-wise. Faceit level is between 5-6. CSGO rank is Master Guardian II (He does tell you he once hit Global Elite. But he stopped the grind to focus on school, not because he’s washed or anything—maybe you could be his Valorant duo? Or be his support in League; he’ll have you know he makes a mean ADC.. do you do overnight discord calls?—)

If you play more casual games (Minecraft, stardew, etc) he will play with you, HOWEVER, he will either ruin the aesthetic of the minecraft world via automated farms OR speedrun the mines in stardew (he passes out so much it starts to affect the money you’re trying to save for farm upgrades). Every time he goes fishing in either game he puts on a country accent and makes “gone fishing, getting away from my bitch wife” jokes. “I’ve uh- carved out an area for the iron farm. Nothin’ too big—just something to get started.” (Shows you an utterly decimated and leveled biome)

Davos Blackwood fun fact no. 43; he does rallying (rally racing). He went to a rally school for fun over the summer. Ignore the price tag; yes he saved up for that! no it’s not dangerous! Regular driving wise he does donuts in empty parking lots, and takes corners way too fast. He is the type to street race a random ass pickup truck or some other car that pulls up beside him. It is thrilling, and he knows you enjoy it too despite your protests and how you grip the handle above the seat. “No it’s fine.. pfft—don’t worry don’t— I’ll smoke him. Just watch.”

Speaking of cars. Do not complain about his car. This is his baby. His one and only. It’s an old car; it’s so old it’s bordering not being considered street safe anymore. Ignore the anime girl stickers with their tits and ass out, that was there already he didn’t do that. “It’s safe don’t worry—I’m getting the bumper and everything fixed like Monday I swear.. no I did not hit anything why would you say that-“

He’s oddly in-tune with his emotions and emotions of others despite appearances. He’ll KNOW if something’s bothering you. Maybe you’re just a little too quiet, you laugh at a joke a little too late or even if it sounds unenthusiastic. Whatever it is, Davos is on the case. A hug, some pep talk, he’ll let you punch his palms to get any anger out. He’s your ride or die, of course he’d do anything for you. And maybe if it’s a person who upset you he might pay them a visit.. “Who was it this time? Oh—that bitch? Ugh. I’m sorry about that… I have a gun just saying—“

Needs your hand in his. Or some part of you touching him. Whatever works. If he does not get a modicum of affection in 5 minute intervals he shrivels up like a plant—no he’s not being dramatic. Is the type to whine loudly about it regardless of where you’re at. On occasion he lets out bloodcurdling screams as a joke, lamenting about being denied tender love from you. You think it’s funny in private, you do not think it’s funny in public. Which is why he always does it in public. “Gimme your hand. Wha? What do you mean ‘it’s too hot out’? I wanna.. I wanna hold your hand… I don’t care if you’re sweaty—LET ME HOLD YOUR HAND”

I do believe his brain would be.. a little rotted. He sends you tiktoks, niche memes, shitposts. He will watch twitch streams or league/csgo content creators on YouTube. His vocab is normal, but does consist of slang from the gaming community. This can be good and funny, or sometimes bad if he uses it during serious moments. However he’s at least a normal human being and knows when to talk ‘normally’. He says joever unironically

Shadow boxes you. No matter what’s happening or where. You could be looking at something in a store and you just see slow, dramatic punches going toward you. He makes the whooshing sound too. This is how you know he’s bored. He’s also the type to tackle you to the bed. Not in a sensual or cutesy way but in like a WWE way that initiates a caged fighting match between you two.

Regardless of your mastery level of skateboarding he will hold your hands and pull you around on his board. Late at night when the parks or lots are empty, you both will be there. And he’ll be a smiling goof as he gently steers you around on the board. He usually says fuck helmets (his one big flaw), but carries one around just for you. His safety be damned. Yours? No question about it, you’re wearing all the gear required.

Smoker. Red flag. Marlboros, sometimes he uses zyns. It’s bad. Yes he knows he’s going to get lung cancer and succumb to nicotine. But he just can’t help it—it helps him relax. It’s why there’s a plethora of gum and also a cologne bottle in his car. Does it help? That’s to be determined. Does not smoke near you however if you don’t like that, he’s not that bad of an asshole.

#benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader #hotd x reader #benjicot x reader #davos blackwood #davos blackwood x reader #hbo house of the dragon #hotd season 2 #bloody ben blackwood #benji blackwood #benji blackwood x reader #house of the dragon

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ayumip · 3 months ago

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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭…

streamer!scaramouche x streamer!reader; modern au

word count: 0.6k

scaramouche and you were famous streamers, and decided to hop onto the “hear me out” cake trend. *gone wrong?* *not clickbait!*

“scara! let’s do this trend!” you called out to him, showing him a video of a couple doing the hear me out cake trend.

“hell no.” he scowled, going back to his game.

“please~”

“no”

“why not! you’re not fun…” you retorted, rolling your eyes.

however, under your persistent persuasion, he reluctantly agreed to do it on stream with you, under the condition that he wouldn’t need to prepare any crazy hear me outs, which of course, you thought it was boring, but whatever!

setting up the camera on your kitchen counter, you greet your chat:

"hi chat! i'm joined with scara today. say hi!" you ushered him, which he reluctantly gave a monotone greeting.

"oh, what's the cake for? we're doing a hear me out cake!" you replied, looking over at the chat, which is going miles per hour as you usually don't do collab streams, well, scara's the exception.

"anyways, lets begin!"

the both of you prepared your sticks, with your respective hear me outs stuck on them. "ill go first! so first, i have omen from valorant, which i think is pretty self explanatory. the girlies that get me, get me" you said, showing the camera before you put it down on the cake. scaramouche gave you a side eye, before retorting with:

"the only thing hot about him is his voice"

"does that mean you admit he's hot-"

"shut up! okay me next." he cut you off with a scoff, which you just giggled at.

"um..." he fiddled around with his sticks in his hand "i have you" he said as he showed the camera, the chat filling with "lmfaos" and "no ways" as he stuck the stick into the cake

"that's just me! why am i a hear me out!" you exclaimed, which he replied with a smirk

"no one can handle you; you're a gremlin"

"but you still love me"

"its your turn just go!" he said bashfully, looking away from the camera with a slight blush on his cheeks

"okay fine! next i have nico from rio"

"thats a bird!"

"and?"

"you're weird..." he mumbled, giving you a faux look of disgust.

suddenly, a comment from chat caught your eye: "nico lowkey looks like scara"

"no because yeah kind of" you mumbled, conversing with chat about how scara resembles nico. scaramouche, looking from afar, was just admiring your animated expressions, your pondering face (which he thought was absolutely adorable, but he would rather die than to admit to your face), and your soft laughs until he was snapped out of his thoughts with you urging him to go next.

"next i have...you, but when you're sleeping"

"why is it all just me- and besides, when did you even get that photo of me! i look horrendous!"

"exactly why that's a hear me out" he mumbled under his breath.

"hey!" you huffed out, as he let out a small laugh. you looked over at the sticks he prepared, realising most of them are just you, but doing different things, you let out an exasperated sigh.

"you really are obsessed with me aren't you" you giggled.

the both of you continued populating the cake with different characters from different cartoons, game, and actors. before you knew it, you only had one more hear me out left.

"okay, don't get mad at me or anything" you warned

"who can be worse than gill. the fish." he rolled his eyes playfully, slightly amused at who on earth your last hear me out was.

biting back your laughter, you showed the camera and chat who your last hear me out was:

"the last one i have is. dottore"

when it finally hit scaramouche who you put on the cake, his mouth was agape; he was shook.

“that's my UNCLE?"

authors note: i think you guys know which reel i based this on but like lowkey i didnt know what i was writing throughout this whole fic LMFAO i didn't expect it to be this dialogue heavy

#genshin fluff #genshin #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche fluff #fluff #scara imagines #genshin x reader #scaramouche au

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neirmetes · 1 year ago

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Quite a funny thing I can mention since I know for a fact that no one's really gonna see this

In the burning flames that is the Welcome Home fandom at the moment (primarily over at the clock app it seems) it's funny that I've chosen Valorant fanfic of all things to fall back on

Like I pretty much already had a line up of other fandoms to engage with and see content for while I wait for things to cool down but for some reason I chose Valorant

I swear to god it's like a toxic, abusive relationship with that game. And I keep coming back in one form or another

#The fact that I've all been working on a Valorant x Welcome Home au #Way before shit hit the fan #Is actually pretty funny to me in a somewhat discouraging way yknow?#Eh I'll tag this with the AUs working name #So when you look up the AU on my blog you might get this post lol #Plus I basically buried under all these other tags no one will see it unless they're looking for it #HOME Protocol AU #There #It's a gamble whether or not I'll actually post anything about it #I almost just wanna keep it to myself for the time being #only time will tell #OH MY GOD I DID THIS WITH LMK AS WELL #WHY DO I PASSIVELY HYPERFIXATE ON VALORANT ALL THE TIME #WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT!!!!#The fish speaks

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castleskies · 4 days ago

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just want a reason to write rook visiting all of the veilguard post game, like imagine –

she goes to visit the professor while he's teaching, slipping into his class while it's in session. it's manfred who spots her first "rook!!" and the enthusiasm is unparalleled. almost too much since manfred's hands burst into flames; but it does make the hug a warm one. (ha ha ha – she's a de riva the puns are hereditary.)

she visits davrin and neve's "minrathous monsters and murders", the detective agency that they've set up in dock town. it's neve's full time interest, and davrin's secondary job (he splits his time between dock town and arlathan with the griffins). there's always something going on in dock town – she's barely crossed the threshold of the agency before she's pulled out on a mystery to solve; there's fried fish at the end of it, so she can't say she didn't get rewarded.

assan gets plenty of pets. manfred learns to hug from watching assan actually–

she visits bellara in arlathan and surprising no one, she's put to work (bel's busy! can't sit still! and can't deny that rook's glad to have something to keep her hands occupied.) rook's got her steps clocked in and by the end of it she's tired, exhausted, and there's a persistent hum in the back of her mind that mirrors the elven artifacts they've fixed all day. strife makes tea and she recognises it from emmerich's blends, and it makes her smile as they sit around the campfire.

visiting taash in rivain and SOMEHOW isabela manages to get her to solo a round in the hall of valor. it was hard enough as a team and it's harder alone – but it gets done and it's taash who picks her up at the end of the fight and they do a victory lap. isabela buys them drinks, after; taash and rook toast one out for harding.

there's a bonus pitstop to the cantori diamond, where teia is; and viago who seems to have forgotten the way home to salle and seems to be permanently situated in the cantori diamond (hm hm hm!) and both of them don't buy her bullshit that she was 'in the neighbourhood' but go drinking, anyway, draining viago's very expensive wine collection.

they're deep in their cups when viago finally says point blank what's the truth: all these visits are visits but rook's running from something, and it's not very de riva to run from your problems –

(teia, in the corner, also drunk but not too drunk to say: yes de rivas prefer to bring the snake that bit them HOME–)

– and it sucks, but viago's right (he's smug about this) and rook's done her rounds because it's a distraction, and it's good to be distracted. it makes everything easier.

it's another very expensive wine bottle later before it spills out: she doesn't know if she's allowed to be happy, after everything; and that grief comes and goes in waves and there's no expiration date, it's there, persistent – and one day she's with lucanis and she feels happy and the guilt that comes after is immeasurable; after everything and everyone they've lost, she feels happy and she feels it's wrong and it's made worse, she thinks, because she's sure lucanis is going to propose and isn't that a happy aftermath that she doesn't deserve.

(viago makes a choking noise. teia smacks viago on the back of his head; it seems to make him rethink what he wants to say.)

they might have said something, but rook doesn't remember. she falls asleep right after.

she means to go home, eventually. but instead, home comes to her.

it's rook, waking up to the familiar face of lucanis who's sitting by her bed (it's nice of viago to have put her in one; she'll have to [sigh] thank him). he looks like he hasn't slept; he probably hasn't, knowing him – rushed right over to the casino after he's completed his mission, dressed in the leathers she'd seen him leave in.

how strange it must seem to anyone else: the first talon, on his knees –

(is this a proposal?) (only if you want it to be.)

and she knows, then, that viago and teia's told him everything. the marvel is this: that he knows it all but is still here, anyway, because the promise he made to her has always been this – he'd never leave her, and she has him by her side.

his fingers are laced with hers. this is how her heart remains whole; because he holds on to it so tightly.

(in the end, it's rook who proposes, in the end. the grief and guilt persists; but it does not mean she cannot be happy, all the same.)

#ramblings.txt #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #rookanis #lucanis dellamorte #rook de riva

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bits-and-babs · 2 years ago

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𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆, 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 — 𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆

synopsis : könig’s job affords him an air of authority and power that few other professions can. an admission that you find this particularly attractive piques his interest.

pairing : könig x f!civilian!reader (‘perle’)

warnings : 18+ mdni. gun kink!!! this is zero plot, 100% filth, i got a little carried away- gun in mouth. könig is flirty and cheeky because he is, damn it. domxsub dynamics, praise kink, fingering, oral sex (m receiving). size kink, degradation kink, uniform kink all present if you really squint.

könig masterlist ୨୧ main masterlist ୨୧ join taglist ୨୧ ask

Forest green eyes gaze at you through a black, threadbare veil, an eyebrow arching in silent query. Despite the draped cloth obscuring his expression, you can imagine he's smirking, the edge of his lips pulling up as he grapples with your admission. Pride and self-satisfaction roll off König's massive shoulders in waves, though the sheer immensity of his frame makes it feel far more like an avalanche.

"You like my uniform?" He repeats your admittance, his thick accent lilting in amusement. It's mortifying, you think, to let König into your mind and show the elite soldier just how much he affects you.

You'd hate to seem disrespectful, to reduce his valorous job to some kind of uniform kink-

"Schatzi?" König pushes gently, watching you squirm under his interrogation from across the room. Chewing on your lip, you note how it smarts slightly, tender from worrying it with your teeth.

"Mhm- It's more... That I like it on you." The confession makes you cringe internally, expecting König to laugh or reduce your fantasy to that of a 'civvy stereotype'.

König appears momentarily caught off guard. You see both dark eyebrows arch in mild surprise before a sort of realisation and subsequent amusement settle into those viridescent irises.

"You mean I am special?" He muses, setting towards you ever so slowly. For such a hulking mass of man, König moves stealthily, delicate footwork almost inaudible. "Not just any soldier?"

"No!" You insist instantly, cheeks heating up under his inquisitive gaze, "No... It's just you- Just you in the uniform."

König hums softly, a sound of acknowledgement as he advances towards you slowly. The intimidation you feel drips down your spine and settles in the pit of your stomach. He's not as threatening as a lion, with brute force and indiscriminate power. No, he reminds you of a hyena, cunning and wily. The knowing look in his eye only adds to the feeling that he's up to something, and your heart thumps in your chest when he continues to search your expression.

"Tell me. What about the uniform do you like so?" He urges you to detail your desires. You're beginning to wish you'd never mentioned anything because König looks like he's dangling bait between your eyes to coax you into a trap.

"Uhm," you fumble for an answer, those lush eyes calmly studying your trembling frame. When you drag your eyes over König’s body for an answer, you observe the strain of his shirt buttons and the revolver holster strapped to his thigh. He's sown extra length to the leather ties with scraps from a belt, standard military equipment far too small for his tremendous frame.

"I like- The way it fits you? The power, the guns, an-"

"The guns?" He wonders aloud, but there's a sly inflection to his question, guileful. Swallowing thickly, you wonder if you've overstepped a mark, opening and closing your mouth like a witless fish as you attempt to piece together some kind of backtrack-

"You understand their danger, of course?" König quizzes rhetorically, seemingly sated by your vehement nod, "You think they look good? Then... I am willing to share a glimpse of one. That is, if you continue to be so open and honest with me."

It's an odd sensation, the feeling of your blood running cold but the pit of your stomach burning hot with arousal. König doesn't even give you a moment to dispute, halting his advancing footsteps and deciding instead to revert, putting distance between you and taking a seat.

"K- König-" You want to ask him to tell you what he has planned, but the words wither on your tongue when you see him draw the stainless steel revolver from its holster. It glints in the fluorescent lighting above your head, coaxing you forward. It's as though he's pushed cotton between your lips, drying your mouth.

"Perle," he copies you, shifting his hips forward in the seat and slowly letting his colossal thighs part. From here, his eyes look darker, his pupils swallowing his irises as he drops his hand and places the revolver in his lap. "Come take a look."

It cracks up the length of your spine, sparking white hot and burning in your cheeks. W-What? You let out a nervous giggle, stepping forward to begin your approach.

König doesn't seem to like it, though. He tilts his head in silent warning, and you stop dead in your tracks. He told you-

"Crawl for me, Liebchen," König murmurs, resting his bicep against the seat's headrest. Every inch of his body is relaxed, muscles lazy as his eyes drag across the length of his body. You're almost certain you can feel their path across your skin, leaving burning embers in their wake. God, it's genuinely pathetic; how quickly you fall to your knees.

The intensity of his gaze bores into you as you settle on your hand and knees. Embarrassment no longer controls you, your arousal overriding any possible humiliation as you crawl across the floor towards him. König's eyes are an open book, pleased and proud of your willingness to take orders–– it encourages you, prompting you to put a slight sway to your hips.

You'd have to be blind to notice it; the generous length bobbing and straining against the khaki trousers. Despite his obvious discomfort, König does nothing to satiate his arousal, focusing all his attention on you alone when you finally kneel between his feet.

"Mein kleiner Schatz," the purr rumbles in his chest as König reaches forward, stroking the barrel of the gun across your cheekbone. The chromed steel is cold, chilling your skin and breaking goosebumps across your arms. "You look so pretty like this."

Anticipation prickles down your spine, whimpering softly. You lean into König's touch, turning towards the pistol and pressing a kiss to the steel barrel. You see the flicker of arousal in König's green eyes and how his eyelids grow heavy.

"Scheiße, you like that?" he groans, dragging the nose of the gun across your lips like the bullet of a lipstick. "My weapon big enough for my girl?" He smirks when you nod, looking up at your lover through your lashes.

It's downright vulgar, utterly disgusting, but you can't help yourself anymore. The way König looks down at you with this look in his eyes, like he could swallow you whole, makes arousal curl so hot and thick in your stomach that you can't deny your throbbing clit any longer. Sliding your fingers underneath your waistband, you rub small circles on your clit.

"Oh," König sighs, watching as you let out a gasp of relief. The breath expels from your lungs hot and heavy, misting up the reflective steel surface of the revolver. "Look at you, Perle. Share with me; I want to watch."

Fumbling with the buttons on your pants, you desperately work out of them and yank them over your hips, panties and all. The searing gaze above you settles on your pussy as you play with your clit, adding to the bliss that sparks across your skin.

"Mhmm," König hums again, like you've placed an exquisite meal before him. "All wet for me, Schatzi; it's all across your thighs."

You nod weakly, breath shuddering as you grind into your palm with a whimper. "P-Please-"

"Kiss the gun again, Perle. I'll make you feel good," he promised you, his voice thick and deep with his arousal. You nod thoughtlessly, far too overwhelmed by the need to feel his hands on you to deny his request. You press your lips to the barrel of the gun over and over, slowly and sensually, as though you were kissing his cock.

"Good girl," he praises, though his words catch in his throat when you take a leap. Opening your mouth, you bring the barrel tip between your teeth, looking up at König through your lashes and letting out a wanton moan.

Big mistake.

König uses the balls of his heels to skirt forward in the seat, his knees on either side of your head. He stares down at you, chest heaving as he leans down and pats your hip sharply.

"Stand up on your knees," he orders, the severity in his voice similar to how he speaks to his KorTac team. You can’t help but wonder if he gets a kick out of it too– some kind of power surge thanks to his promotion.

"Yes, colonel," you address him by his title as you rise, and König growls so deep and low that you're sure the floor rumbles beneath you. He works his massive hand over your own, taking control and slowing your fingers' ministrations to a maddeningly slow cycle.

"Such a good girl, Shatz," he coos, and once again, you can hear the smirk on his lips as he watches your body crumple with the wave of arousal his control shoots through you. "So receptive. Would you like it in your mouth?"

Whimpering softly, you look up at him in question. Was it safe? Well- Of course it wasn't safe; none of this was.

"Trust me," he urges you softly, finally replacing the swirling touch of your finger with his own. There's no escaping the drag of his fingerprint, the digit so much larger than your own.

You nod again, the blissful arousal so mind-numbing that it overrides your fear. Then, letting your jaw hang loose, your eyes practically roll back into your skull when König rests the barrel of the deadly weapon across your tongue.

"Hahh," König groans, sinking his fingers into your soaked cunt. You wail, body bracing and shuddering at the intrusion as his fingers alone stretch you out. "Is that good, Mein kleiner Schatz? Hmm? Does it feel cold in your mouth?"

You nod slightly, managing a quiet 'mhm-hm' to answer your Colonel vocally. Excitement blooms in your chest when you see it pleases him, his fingers sliding deeper into you while working your clit ever so slowly.

"Does it feel good, though?" He checks in with you, still adamant about your comfort despite his dominant role. You nod again.

"Good," he chuckles, staring down at you with such an intensity that you almost forget his eyes are green, his pupil dilated so much that they've practically devoured his verdant irises. It rocks you, another blissful wave of arousal sweeping from head to toe.

Wrapping your lips around the barrel, you allow yourself to get carried away even further. You hollow your cheeks, eyelashes fluttering as you put on the erotic display to work König up even more.

"Schei- Filthy girl!" You're unsure if he meant to scold you, but König sounds far too wrecked for it to land the way he intends. He rocks his fingers up inside of you suddenly, instantly finding your G-spot and working it ruthlessly. "Alway distracting me, making me lose my min..."

His words are drowning out as your heartbeat thuds against your sternum and in your ears, something sickly sweet and thick like molasses trickling through your veins as your orgasm begins to surge in your abdomen.

The squelching, wet sounds of König's fingers working in and out of your tight cunt are deafeningly loud, though, audible enough that they reach your ears even over the thumping of your heart and heavy gasps of breath. "K- König-"

"Can you take it deep in your throat for me, Mein Perle?" He asks, sounding utterly wrecked and haggard. Your vision blurs, but you definitely see the lurch of his cock in his khaki cargo trousers. "Please- Please, just for me-"

He doesn't need to ask you twice; his begging is interrupted by a filthy groan of your name when you easily take the barrel further down your throat to the point your upper lip could almost brush his thumb on the hammer of the gun.

"Hahhh, fuck!" König spits, watching tears well in your eyes at the stretch in your throat and cunt. He gently pulls the gun from your mouth, careful not to hurt you but knocking your teeth thanks to his trembling hand. "I'm making you cum, and then you'll do that to me, Shatz. Filthy girl-"

The moment the gun leaves your lips, König's fingers arch against your g-spot and his thumb circles your clit simultaneously. It's devastating, and you're barely able to hold yourself up as the ecstasy bursts through you brightly. It's as though a grenade has gone off, but it keeps building and building-

" König-... KönigKönigKo-ooh-" You squeak his name, his brutal, sniper precision knocking the oxygen from your lungs as your tears drip down your face. "I'm cummmmugh-!"

It’s like static in your ears and across your skin when it burns through you. It crackles across your nerve endings, arcs up your spine until you’re leaning back against it, arching your back as if attempting to escape the intensity of the ecstasy he draws from you. You want to scream his name, begging him to stop, to carry on, but the words drown among the wails and whines of bliss.

It feels like it goes on forever, your body suspended in euphoria and caged, grounded, only by König’s thighs.

When your vision straightens, your chest heaving violently, König's hands delicately push your hair from your face. He's careful with you in these moments, the vulnerable aftermath where your mind is drunk on hormones and your body is in shock from the extremity of your orgasm. There's no rush for your recovery; your lover lets you take all the time you need.

It's only when you manage to straighten yourself somewhat, shaky hands resting on his knees in a wordless show of readiness, that König nods his head.

"That's it, Schatzi," he whispers to you, holding his breath as he waits his turn anxiously.

Your mouth waters at the ruddy colour of his thick, veiny dick, and you lean forward to take the head into your mouth in a repeat of your actions earlier. König's hips jolt forward, grasping the arms of the chair with a white-knuckle grip at the vibrations that rock down his shaft when you hum around him.

"Oh- Oh fuck-!" He chokes out when you gently graze your teeth over the sensitive, velvety head, just as you did the gun barrel. You see König's eyes roll back, and one of his eyebrows arches as the sensation takes over. He's twitching in your mouth already, salty precum dribbling down the arch of his cock and spilling onto your tongue.

You take your tantalising time, kissing at the head of his dick once more before slowwwly easing him into your wet, hot mouth. König's gasps of bliss are pathetic, the imposing man reduced to a clammy mess of whimpers and keens of your name. It's so simple to work him up, the simple act of your palms smoothing across his thighs enough to get his cock jumping against your tongue.

The warmth of your mouth around König's dick is too much for him, his head lolling back in the chair. You see him squeeze his eyes shut, bracing against the heaving of his chest and the slight rocks of his hips into your mouth.

Your hand finds his balls, gently trailing your nails over them, and König's hips suddenly jolt upwards. He slips deep, tip knocking the back of your throat and catching you off guard in a gag.

Pulling back, you squeeze his knees tight and take a deep breath.

"Oh fuck- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" he apologises fervently, lifting his head like he's got weights tied to it, and it's far too heavy. He can't seem to hold it up straight, and it instantly falls back again with a spluttered wail when you shush him, wrapping your mouth around his cock and tracing his slit to taste his precum.

He's close already; you can tell by the way his dominant energy dissipates and his balls draw up tight. He’s completely forgotten the act he’d been putting on, his revolver discarded on the beside you and desperate pines of your name falling from his lips.

"Scheiße," he gasps, the wooden arms of the chair creaking beneath the pressure of his grip. "Ah, Sch- shhhh-"

Anticipating his orgasm, you sink heavily onto him, taking as much of his impossible length into your throat as possible. König's hands fly from the chair, grasping the hair on the crown of your head and holding you on his cock like he's terrified you'll withdraw.

“Ahah- Ah- Mein Perl- fuck!”

He cums with a lurch of his dick, a pathetic, trembling whine spilling from his lips as you swallow it down, the walls of your throat tightening around him. Ragged gasps of breath reach your ears, and your clit burns with the need for attention yet again as you continue to milk König. There's so much of him-

Suddenly, he's using his grip on your hair to pull you off, and he slips from your lips with a wet, audible pop. You look up at his languid body sprawled in the chair, wiping his wetness from your chin.

"Hah, Schatz…” he watches you, eyelids heavy with exhaustion, "You are too good to me."

You shake your head gently, still sitting on your knees as you rest your head in his lap. They're aching after holding your weight for so long on such a hard floor, but you'll gladly take the bruises as a medal for your hard, valiant work.

His hands immediately find your hair with a much softer, kinder touch, brushing through the threads and skirting his fingertips over your scalp. "No. I just want to show my appreciation for my heroic soldier, remember?"

A soft, tired chuckle shakes his body, and you can't help the smile that splits your lips as a response. "Ah, of course. I remember. 'Not like others in uniform'."

"You're not," you insist gently, closing your eyes as he brushes his battle-calloused knuckles across your cheekbone, "None of them make the uniform look so sexy."

"Ah-hah! I knew it was the uniform!"

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