addict-rat

[addict-rat]

𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 | laszlo kreizler x reader

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 | being a traditional, well-behaved woman, you saved yourself for marriage. but the things your new husband has planned for you are... less than traditional, and might just show how poorly behaved you can be.

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 | over 9k

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | SMUT (18+ only!!), virginity loss, age gap (unspecific; laszlo is in his 40s, reader is probably 20-25), multiple orgasms/overstimulation, fingering, oral f receiving, squirting, shy/innocent reader, religious reader (but nothing tooo shame-y or anything), some innocence kink, a hint of medical kink?, slightly pervy laszlo?!?! (moreso he's just a wee bit of a weirdo and says some cringe stuff but like. that's just his vibe sorry)

Laszlo was such an impossible paradox of a man.  Especially compared to the sort of man you always thought you’d marry— what you’d been raised for, even.

An accomplished doctor, a successful and wealthy man of high social standing— a kind, sensitive, intelligent, and patient partner who made you feel beautiful and special and, for lack of a better word, fancy.  That part was exactly as you’d always imagined for yourself, though you had never really believed you could find someone so wonderful.

And then there was the other half of him, the pieces that even in your wildest dreams you would’ve never thought would make up your future husband.  First of all, he was quite a bit older than you.  Even your parents, who had always preferred for you to marry someone already established (as they put it) rather than your own age, were a little concerned that he was in his mid-forties, and only a year younger than your father.  Of course, that was nothing compared to their offense at his profession, and the subsequent open-mindedness he had towards people your parents would rather pretend didn’t exist.  Then again, Laszlo himself having his disability made him the sort of person they would rather pretend didn’t exist, though he’d managed to hide it relatively well.

Maybe they could’ve forgiven any of that.  It was the atheism that put the final nail in the coffin, unfortunately… and someone as brash and unapologetic as Laszlo had no interest in hiding his beliefs to appease your parents.  He hadn’t brought it up, of course, or protested to the crucifixes and cross-stitched scriptures on the walls; but when they’d asked if he was Catholic or Protestant, he told them directly that he was a man of science and didn’t entertain any metaphysical notions or, as he’d so thoughtfully put it, fantasies.

They instantly forbade the courtship and warned you never to see him again.  And maybe that was when he surprised you most— he was so romantic, so… dashing.  He took a carriage to your home and literally threw pebbles at your window, daring you to climb down the lattice and join him for a midnight adventure.  It was then he suggested that you marry him anyways— he had more than enough to take care of you after a disownment from your parents.  He promised to give you anything you wanted, to treat you perfectly, to spend every day trying to keep you as happy as you made him without even trying.

There it was again, the contradictory enigma of Laszlo Kreizler.  A serious, even stern man, proposing to you like a lovestruck teenager.  He had eschewed fantasies a few evenings ago only to turn around and ask you to jump headfirst into a fairytale.

You said yes, though.  You really didn’t think twice about it— you knew he would be good to you.  And you knew you’d never loved someone like you’d loved him before.

You wanted to run away right then and there, but he told you to go home for a few more days, to gather your things— he would send for them while your parents were out, and you could move in with him as soon as you were ready.

When you did move in, though, he seemed a little surprised that you asked for your things to be moved to a spare bedroom.

“Is everything alright?” he asked you softly, stepping closer to you as you crossed your arms over yourself nervously; you waited until you were sure Cyrus was out of earshot, carrying your bags away, before you answered.

“Yes,” you replied quietly, “everything’s fine.”

“It’s understandable if you’re feeling conflicted now,” Laszlo assured.  “Having just left your parents, and not knowing if you’ll see them again—”

“It’s not that,” you promised.  “Well— of course, I feel something about that, but I’m happy to be here with you.  That’s not my issue at all.”

“Then what is?” he pressed.  “I hope you feel that you can tell me.”

You sighed as he reached up to brush your cheek; his touch always soothed you, though it felt a bit different here, in his home.  Your new home.  “I just… wouldn’t feel right about being in your room, until we’re married.”

He nodded.  “Of course.  I shouldn’t have presumed.”

You smiled a little, though it was more out of nervousness than anything.  “I… I wondered if you thought my parents were the only reason that we never— that nothing had—”

“Shh,” he soothed, pushing your hair back from your face until you looked up at him.  “I don’t expect anything from you now.  Well, only that you do whatever you like to make yourself feel at home here.”

“And what… what will you expect from me once I am your wife, Dr. Kreizler?” 

Though you were a little afraid to, you met his gaze; his brown eyes seemed deeper than ever, and you were powerless to look away from them.  “What do you think is right to give me, when you are my wife?”

You sighed a little, feeling his hand on your cheek move carefully down to your neck, his gentle fingers brushing along the smallest part of your collarbone exposed by your dress.  Words escaped you; you wanted him to know that just because you wanted to wait for him didn’t mean you didn’t want him.  Even before, even when you first met him, your mind had supplied you with thoughts that sent you straight to the confession booth.

You wanted to be one with him in every way you could think of… you just needed some to come before others, to feel right with your own beliefs.  Even if you loved an atheist, and felt surprisingly little guilt for it, you were still religious yourself and wanted to honor God’s intention for marriage.  

Didn’t mean you couldn’t yearn for your soon-to-be husband, right?  It certainly didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the full benefits of physical intimacy when the time came.

But obviously, you were far from brave enough to say all that.  Instead, you found your hands wandering to his chest, following the pattern of his suit coat up to his shoulders, biting your lip without even realizing it.  He simply continued to watch you, and you got the feeling that he understood you better than you could explain it yourself.  One of the bonuses of being loved by an expert on the human mind, perhaps.

You were almost in a trance, not noticing how long you were spending just gently touching and holding him in this simple way— until you looked up and met his gaze again, and felt a little weak.  “Can we marry soon?” you asked softly, almost under your breath.  You hoped he wouldn’t tease you, you weren’t secure enough for him to mock your obvious eagerness, to call attention to your desire for him.  Thankfully, he stayed perfectly serious, because he was just as affected as you were.

“As soon as you like,” he replied earnestly.

It was probably for the best that Cyrus walked in to the parlor at that moment, and you instinctively pulled back from Laszlo, crossing your arms again.  “Your bags are in the downstairs bedroom, madam,” he informed you, “down the hallway under the stairs.”

You nodded at him as Laszlo responded, “Thank you, Cyrus.  That will be all.”

He left, and you looked at your fiance again, feeling a bit silly for what he’d seen in you a moment before.  But he smiled at you, and you figured he’d be the last person to judge you for any of that.  “I’ll give you a little time to unpack and freshen up, if you like,” he offered.  “I hope you’ll join me for dinner at seven this evening.  I believe we’ll be having quail.”

“Of course— thank you,” you smiled, watching him begin to turn to depart.  But for a second, he hesitated— like he didn’t want to leave you— and you prayed he wouldn’t kiss you.  It’s not that you didn’t want him to… you wanted him to more than anything.  He’d only kissed you once before, at the end of a particularly exhilarating night out together, and you hadn’t stopped thinking about it for a moment since.

So no, it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to kiss you.  It was only that, if he did, you knew you’d have trouble letting it be just a kiss.

Therefore, you were just as relieved as you were disappointed when he departed without incident.

///

A few days later, you eloped.  You hadn’t felt much urge to have a ‘proper’ wedding when no one you knew approved of the marriage anyway— they were all too deep in your parents’ pocket, unfortunately.  And even if anyone cared enough to come, Laszlo refused to be wed in a church (you thought maybe he would bend on it if you really begged, he was overall quite accommodating to you, but it wasn’t worth your trouble) and so it would’ve just been another scandal.  

Truly, you were just as happy this way— it was the happiest day of your life, really.  You left the courthouse as Mrs. Kreizler, wearing a stunning silver band he’d had engraved with your new initials and flowering vines all around in a swirling, whimsical pattern.  His band was simpler, but you loved it even more— just because it was his, and seeing him wearing it made your heart skip all day.

Anticipation for your wedding night only grew with every passing moment.  Laszlo himself was in the bathroom with the door shut— you heard the sink running, the various sounds of him preparing for bed.  You were just trying to get your heart to slow down, trying not to have any specific goals or expectations for the evening.  Today had already been perfect.

But, of course, it was hard not to imagine what was next for the two of you— your things had already been moved into his room.  A vanity had been placed in it as well, a wedding gift from Sara Howard (a friend of Laszlo’s you had become acquainted with during this whirlwind romance), and you were using it now as you prepared yourself for bed.  You were already in your nightgown, having changed after Laszlo left the room (not that you had to, but it felt more natural that way), and you were carefully unpinning your hair from its meticulous style.

As you concluded the final steps of your evening routine, you saw the bathroom door open behind you in your reflection; your husband emerged, wearing an embroidered silk robe that offered a view of a sliver of his chest— not very much, but more than you’d ever seen.  You didn’t notice the way your thighs pressed against each other more tightly; he approached you slowly, and you eventually turned to look at him directly.  With you still sitting on the vanity’s padded stool, he towered over you when he stood close… and as you lifted your head to look up at him, his hand brushed softly along your jaw.  You tilted into his touch just a bit, smiling at him while your heart fluttered.

“You’re so beautiful, mein Schatz,” he whispered, and you felt a little giddy when he talked like that— he’d only ever indulged you in his German after having a few drinks, so this instance caught you off-guard in the best way.  Not to mention he’d called you Schatz before— treasure, apparently, and a common term of endearment— but he’d never tagged it with mein before.  And you were his, truly.  You were glad he’d waited to say it until it was actually true (even if, in a certain sense, it was already true before).

He motioned, rather subtly, for you to stand up.  It seemed simple enough, but you felt a little shaky as you did it— a nervous excitement, like the kind you would feel before a piano recital or debutante ball.  Except those were all public engagements, and this was as private as anything could be.

Touching your face again, he wove his fingers back around your neck, his thumb cradling your jaw right in front of your ear.  And he kissed you— just like that, quick at first but then slowing down as you both sighed a bit.

You admired how easily he’d done it, and thank god for it, because you would’ve spent quite a while working up the courage.  This was different from the night you’d kissed him after a few weeks of seeing each other— it was very different from the kiss you’d shared at the courthouse earlier that day.  It would’ve made sense if there was a sense of neediness to it, as if he were making up for lost time or relieving all the anticipation for this night.  But really, it was all rather relaxed, at least on his part.  Like he had all the time in the world: which, you know, he did.

You, on the other hand… you were feeling a bit more out of your element.  Not that you weren’t enjoying this new one so far, it was just a little unfamiliar.

His hand floated lower and traced down your back— delicately, with the tips of his fingers brushing your skin through the thin fabric until chills started to run over you.  You gasped a little into the kiss, and put your hands on the patterned lapels of his robe; you didn’t actually push him away, but he pulled back as if you had, examining your face carefully for a moment.

You hadn’t needed him to stop, but you were a little glad he did: just a moment’s break from it all before it became overwhelming.  His fingers still traced gentle shapes on your lower back through the nightgown, and you found your gaze drifting to his chest, to your hands resting on it— and your own fingertips ventured into the exposed piece of his chest.  His skin was paler here, with a reddish-blondish patch of hair just starting to be visible.  You touched it, taking a quick and shaky breath, and wondered why something inside you tightened as you pet him here.  He was so… masculine.  His looks weren’t sweet and boyish, no: he was broad and strong (he would deny that one if you said it, but to you he was) and sharp around the edges, and it was something you never expected to excite you so much.

But you loved that you could still feel a bit of friction from his beard after he’d kissed you.  You loved the subtle scent of his cologne, how sturdy he felt under your touch.

Your hands drifted up to his face, fingers brushing through his hair slowly, and he smiled at you.  His hair was just a bit long for what was typical of men these days, and you enjoyed combing through the dark brown locks and noticing the little golden highlights in the dimmed light of the room.

The hand on your hip pulled you closer, pressing your body against his, and you tried your best to relax into the warm strength of his form while your heart kept racing.

When he kissed you again, he moved in slowly, watching your face before his own eventually met with it, and you fluttered your eyes shut as his lips gently pressed to yours.  This time, you found yourself leaning in for more, kissing him back with more passion; you let out a little dampened moan when his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, taking the next opportunity to gently move further into your mouth.  

He broke away all too soon, embracing you even tighter, pressing his cheek to yours.  And when you, in turn, wrapped your arms around him and pressed yourself against him everywhere you could… you felt it.

Even if you had very little knowledge about this sort of thing, you understood what that hard, curved shape was, pressed just above where your hip met your stomach.  You knew what it was, and your body did too— heat pooled at your core, every touch awakening you even more.

“Oh,” you sighed shakily, holding tighter onto him to just have something to hold onto.

“It's alright,” he whispered, soft words floating on his breath which tickled under your ear.  “It's alright, my darling, I won't hurt you.”

You hummed softly in return, nodding as his lips brushed over your cheek, then moved to your neck.  “I know,” you replied.  “I trust you, Laszlo.”

But you couldn't help but gasp when his tongue teased your pulse, his teeth gently grazing the most delicate places they could find.  His grip at your waist tightened when you whimpered.  “Is this pleasurable to you?” he asked softly; even such a formal statement made you shudder when he said it in that low, buttery voice…

You nodded, your back arching slightly to press yourself against him, but you felt him smile against you suddenly.

“I'd like for you to say it,” he explained, an unfamiliar darkness to his voice.

“It's… pleasurable,” you panted.  “When you kiss me there… it's like I feel every touch s-somewhere else—”

“Where, my love?”

“Here,” you sighed, grabbing his hand from your back and moving it between your legs.  He instantly cupped and rubbed your mound, and your knees nearly buckled from the pleasure.

“Mein Gott, you're so sensitive,” he observed, his own voice sounding a little strained, “I've hardly touched you.”

“L-Laszlo, just touch me more,” you pleaded.

Though he’d been so careful until that moment, he suddenly started to pull up the skirt of your nightgown rather hastily, nostrils flaring as he bent down slightly and worked to hoist the fabric up.  Finally, he got under it, but teased you by rubbing and groping at your thighs instead; under his breath, you just barely heard a growl before he began to kiss your neck again.

“Even if both my hands were strong, I'd wish for more to touch you with,” he mumbled against your skin.  “I'd still want to cover you entirely, reach every part of you at once.”

Well, you liked the sound of that, but one hand was doing you plenty of good already— especially when it slid back up to cup you again, making you sigh and moan as his fingers slipped through your folds, spreading your abundant wetness all around.

Desperate to return even a portion of the sensation he was giving to you, you placed your hand against the bulge in his trousers.  Though the shape and firmness of him made you gasp excitedly, he only let you rub it for a few moments before sighing and moving your hand away.  “Not yet, my darling,” he instructed.  “It's best if we take this one step at a time, for now.”

You felt a little silly, having to be held back like that, but you nodded.  He obviously knew better than you about all this.

It was almost too much, the way he was touching you: you had your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders to try to keep yourself upright, frankly.  And yet, for how overwhelming it was, you heard yourself saying—

“More, please,” you begged, “I-I need you, just give me more, please—”

“I will,” he promised roughly, “but not here.  I think it’s only right that I take you to bed, hm?”

If you weren’t all worked up, you might’ve made some witty comment about how at least the bed’s not too far or whatever— but no, you just let him guide you the few steps to the mattress, and you sat on it as you simply awaited further orders.  So little that he’d done to you, and you’d already do whatever he asked in exchange for continued attention.

You watched him roll up his sleeve— it took him a little while with the weaker hand, but you didn’t mind letting this moment last— and didn’t even notice the way your mouth had gone slack, you were nearly salivating.  “Lay back, darling,” he instructed simply, still looking at his sleeve as he finally folded it up to his elbow, “and open your legs.”

You obeyed, of course, and bit absent-mindedly on your lip as you slowly lifted your knees and parted your thighs.  There was no point being shy now, of course— and you were more than eager for him to get back to doing what he had been before— but you still felt a nervous hesitance that made your hands (and heart) shake slightly.  Something about stopping to get in the bed had brought a bit of sobriety to the moment, and you realized in retrospect how desperate you must have looked.  Surely he wouldn’t hold that against you…

He lifted your skirt again, up to your hips, and hummed lowly at the sight of your sex.  Your face burned hotter; you liked the way he touched it, but you didn’t feel entirely comfortable with him… staring at it.

Still, it was the sort of slight discomfort that felt oddly… good?  Yes, you were a bit embarrassed and exposed at the moment, but it felt wrong in that fun, naughty sort of way; it made your hips shift a little, presumably in hopes of some friction.  Thankfully, their wish was answered: his hand was on you again, pulling your lips apart, slowly exploring you until your eyes fluttered shut.

“May I touch you inside as well?” he asked— as if there was any risk of you turning that offer down.

“Y-yes, Laszlo, please,” you whispered, whimpering as you felt the tip of his pointer finger— suddenly it seemed a little thicker than you remembered— press up to your entrance and ever so gently slide inside.

“Just one to start,” he narrated softly as that one finger made your toes curl, only one finger making your hips twist and your back arch.  How could he do that to you so easily?  “And my thumb can help with this lovely little organ you have…”

His thumb circled your bud, and you shuddered all over— even inside— and instantly struggled to catch your breath.  “Laszlo, what… what is that…” you breathed, whimpering when he rubbed it again.

“Your clitoris, my love— you’ve never touched here before?”

He should’ve known you hadn’t— even if you had… explored yourself out of childish curiosity probably a decade ago, you would’ve remembered if it felt like this.  Shaking your head, you were surprised by his little growl.

“Your poor girl,” he cooed, something a little attractive about the slight condescension of it.  “You have so much to learn.  I can’t even imagine the things you’ve never felt before…”

He slowly moved the pad of his thumb up and down over the flesh, which only grew firmer as he continued.  “Oh!” you whimpered, hips rocking back against his touch— it was so wild of you, you thought, but you couldn’t really stop yourself.  He pressed harder and your whole body jumped.  “Fuck!”

He laughed a little, and your face got warmer.  “I’ve never heard you use language like that, Schatz, but it sounds impossibly adorable when you say it.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you began, “I couldn’t help it—”

“No, don’t apologize,” he insisted, “I’d rather you said it again.  Whenever you can’t help it, of course.”

You knew that Laszlo knew more than you about many topics, being a highly-educated man of great intellect, but you hadn’t expected him to introduce you to an entirely new body part that you’d been carrying with you this whole time.  If you’d figured out how to do anything like this to yourself, you might have spent your entire adolescence trapped in your room, so maybe it was for the best that you never put it together.

You weren't sure how any woman was meant to learn these things— you figured she wasn't meant to, unfortunately— but if she had a choice, you'd certainly recommend this method, provided she could find her own husband to try it with rather than borrowing yours.  What a visceral and beautiful way to learn how much that little organ could really do: Laszlo rubbing it with his thumb, with just the right amount of pressure to make a loud moan crawl out of you.

“The noises you make are just delightful, my darling,” he praised.  “Keep going, so I know what I should do.”

“Just do that,” you begged, “just keep doing that.”

“Only this?” he pressed.  “I shouldn't even add another finger?”

Of course, that was when he did— gently pressing his middle finger to your opening until it accommodated it, and you heard your own high-pitched whine in disbelief that you'd made the sound.  “F-fuck, that feels… Laszlo, you're so—”

But you interrupted yourself, because he did something so diabolical with his fingers just then.  He'd only twisted and scissored them inside you for a moment before curling them up, rubbing the most delicate place you never knew you had— just as he pushed down harder on your poor clit.  You felt ravenous all of a sudden, terribly overwhelmed but greedy for more.

“Please, oh god, please—” you started to beg before you even knew what you wanted.  He knew what you wanted, and he gave it to you: more.  It wasn't even very significant of a movement, and yet it turned your whole body into his plaything as you started to shake all over.

“You react more than I ever expected, my darling,” he cooed.  “I never dreamed how well you would respond to my touch.  I've only just begun and I think you're already nearly there.”

Before you could wonder where he was talking about, he pulled his fingers out of you carefully.  You heard yourself whimper a little, opening your eyes and looking at him worriedly.  He smiled, seeming to enjoy how much his interruption seemed to bother you; “Take off your nightgown, my love,” he requested plainly.  “I think I’d like to get a good look at you before I go on.”

Sitting up (and finding your head a bit more dizzy than you expected), you started by unbuttoning from your neck halfway down to your chest, before lifting the thin garment up over your head slowly.  You felt so strange doing this— undressing in front of a man— but your heart pounded with hope that he would enjoy what he saw.  Tossing the dress aside, you sheepishly bit your lip and waited for his assessment as his dark brown eyes grazed over your nude form.

He moved a little closer, his hand running up your leg and then around your side, reaching up to carefully cup one of your breasts.  You breathed deeply but unevenly, your chest rising and falling against his touch.  You were almost nervous that he hadn’t said anything yet, but the look in his eyes just became more and more clear; you whimpered under your breath when his fingers brushed over your hardened nipple, ever-so-delicately pinching it until your hips shifted a bit in response.  “How beautiful you are, my love,” he whispered, making you squirm again with just his words.  “Is it true you’re really my wife?  This lovely, delicate body that only I can touch and caress, laying next to me every night… I don’t know when I’ll really believe it.”

You had to shut your eyes for a second— you might be too brash if he kept on like that, praising you so tenderly.  “You could’ve been a poet,” you told him with a little smirk, blinking open your eyes again as he guided you to lay back once more, “if medicine didn’t suit you.”

“Oh, I’m no poet, Schatz,” he smiled in return, taking one more careful squeeze of your other breast before moving down to pet inside your legs again.  “All I am is painfully honest.”

His fingers slid inside you again, and you could’ve sworn he was rubbing inside you a bit more firmly than he had been before— thrusting a little faster, pushing a little deeper.  And all the while he was staring down at you, back and forth between your face and your hole, with a delicious darkness in his eyes.

It was still a patient endeavor, so much so that you never really noticed that he was getting a little quicker and rougher with it.  You really didn’t figure it out until you heard yourself choking out his name, groaning and gasping louder than you meant to— but you couldn’t suppress it very well, either.

You soon began to realize what he meant before with that nearly there comment, without even having any prior knowledge of what it could be… there was something instinctive about it, something totally natural.  You didn’t know what was coming, but you understood it; you knew you were on the edge of something and that if you could just get there it would be perfect.

Still, you couldn’t have known how much you would enjoy it.

You couldn’t stop moaning— it was this all-surrounding, ecstatic feeling, like… sinking into something.  Relaxing into something… something warm and soft and good.  Even a lifetime of religious repression couldn’t convince you this was anything but perfect.  Actually, nothing had ever felt right quite the way this did.

Your back arched rather dramatically, until you had a good view of the headboard upside-down; and he gave you few more fast, rough pumps of his fingers into your shaking body before slowing down to a stop and letting you rest.

Suddenly drained, you melted back down onto the bed with a long whine.  “How did that feel?” he asked, sounding a little formal about it, and you only could muster a little, exhausted laugh because what did he think you were going to say?  ‘It was alright, tickled a little bit, but I didn’t mind it.’

“That was… you… you’re so—” you began a few times, giving up to open your eyes wide when his fingers pet up and down over the seam of your lips, gently exploring you, making you quiver from how sensitive you’d become.  You weren’t even done recovering from the stimulation and he was giving you more; he seemed sort of absent-minded about it, the way he gently and repetitively slid up and down and up and down through your slick and swollen folds… but it was deliberate, you knew it was, because he smiled when you moaned weakly.

One finger pressed inside you again, and he watched your face closely and you shuddered.  You were just the slightest bit sore, and it felt like that one finger was more of a stretch than before… which seemed impossible, but with the erratic pulsing of your walls, it was a little hard to keep track.

You gasped sharply when he put the second finger in you once more, almost snarling a bit as he watched you react so strongly.  “Laszlo, I— I don't think I can do that again—”

“You can, I'm sure of it,” he encouraged, curling his fingers inside of you, which required a bit more force with your channel bearing down against him in response.  “It might even come faster this time, that little spot is all swollen now—”

Before he could finish that sentence, he proved it by circling the place, making your hips jump up as another whine eked out of you.  “O-oh, I— fuck…”

He smirked a bit, a delicious smugness to his expression, and the emotion looked much too good on him.  “See?  Just let me take control, my love.  I think you'll like what I do, if you simply let me do what I like with you.”

Fuck, that had to be the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard.  You were biting your lip to try to keep back the flood of terribly embarrassing things your pleasure wanted to say for you: you can do whatever you like with me; I'm yours; I'd do anything for you; don't ever stop, but also if you don't fuck me soon I might lose my mind, you know, things of that nature.  Instead you let out a muffled moan, and nodded to make sure he knew that he had your permission for whatever he thought was best.

And, of course, he’d been right about you: that you’d be even more sensitive after coming, and would be able to go through it all over again.  It only took probably a minute or two of dedicated, precise stimulation for the feeling to grow again… except it felt a little stronger this time, like it was building past the point that it had broken at before.  Maybe your tolerance was higher, or something?  You really weren’t qualified to say— all you could think about was this sensation, this tension, and the way he looked at you as you started to shake all over.

Your eyes fell shut instinctively, your shaking hands clutching at the bed under you; you felt sort of numb all over, except instead of everything being dulled and distant, it was only heightened.

“O-oh, oh, Laszlo, I—” you tried to warn him, words escaping you as the heavy, almost sharp feeling gathered tighter and tighter…

“Give into it,” he insisted, “it’s alright— I want to see it.  I want to hear you, I want to feel you when you come—”

His voice was getting darker, rougher, more demanding as he went on; and in the same way, his fingers’ thrusts into you became more aggressive.  “Fuck, I— I think I’ll— oh god!” you yelped.

“Yes,” he encouraged, “let go, darling!”

Your arms flailed around for a second before finding a lump in the sheets to grab onto tightly, your hips rocking against his hand, your head falling back in a scream; it was so intense, and so sudden, and you felt like the pressure that had been building broke so violently that it would’ve been painful without all the ecstasy running through your veins, numbing you inside and out.

You could tell that this one was different— hotter, warmer, wetter— but you had no idea what you’d done until the high had started to fade just a bit.

His hand slowed down to a stop, you heard him quietly catching his breath, and you blinked your eyes open… that’s when you noticed small wet stains on his rolled-up sleeve, and shiny fluid along his forearm— and a very proud grin on his face.

You felt your eyes go wide and your cheeks start baking.  He spoke up before you could even try to process what to say: “That was excellent, my love��� I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so magnificent,” he praised.  “You’re incredible.”

You wanted to believe him, but it didn’t really offer much explanation.  “Laszlo, I… did I—?”

“No, darling, don’t worry,” he cooed, scooting a little closer on the bed as he pet the inside of your thigh.  “It’s natural— one of the… rarer ways that a woman’s body can respond to stimulation.  I’ve always found the concept fascinating, but until now, my knowledge was… purely theoretical.  Actually, I’d love to gather your perspective on the experience, possibly for a future research paper on the topic— but that’s an issue for another time.  There’s a more pressing matter I need to discuss with you.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious what matter could be discussed in a time like this.

“I… I'd like to try something else,” he announced, and you dropped your head back on the bed in a sort of defeat.

“Something else?!” you whimpered, still catching your breath from the last thing he had “tried”.  “What else could there be but making love?”

“That will be soon, I promise, I just… I can't resist such an opportunity,” he explained.  “Your scent is so erotic, and it's only grown stronger now that you’ve so generously covered my arm in your ecstasy.  And with anything that smells so delectable, one can't help but crave to taste it.”

You'd only heard about this before— sort of a dirty schoolyard secret, almost an urban legend.  The whole thing had always sounded odd to you, if maybe not as icky as you thought it was when you first had the concept whispered to you as a child.  You didn't realize it was actually something you might experience someday, assuming it was a practice reserved to the especially perverted.  Now that he was offering it, you found yourself biting your lip as you tried to imagine what it would be like.

“I'd like to pleasure you with my mouth,” he concluded, really spelling it out for you.  “Would that be alright?”

You weren't sure what to think of that, and yet you were already nodding yes.  This was your husband, after all— who else could you trust to do something like this?  Most of all, you did it because you wanted to please him.  Because he'd asked you for it.

He smiled a little when you agreed, and began to lean down between your legs.  Those deep brown eyes seemed to sparkle more than ever when he looked up at you, but his gaze couldn't stay with yours for long before he had to give a closer look to your cunt.  He carefully spread the lips with his fingers, humming at the sight.  “I wonder if it's even possible for you to be as delicious as you look,” he spoke quietly, and a needy whine caught in your throat.

It was just a gentle kiss to your clit first… then another, with his lips parted.  Then he started to ever-so-gently suckle at it, tongue softly petting it; he wasn't doing too much, physically, but you never could catch your breath while he was doing it.

You whined a bit when he broke away, looking down at him in search of an explanation but finding instead him looking back up at you with an indescribable look in his eye.

“How does that feel?” he asked, his voice rougher and darker than you'd ever heard it before, making you shiver gleefully.

“Wet,” you blurted out, making him smile a little, a small laugh on an exhale through his nose that made you feel a bit foolish in an unexpectedly pleasurable way.  “A-and warm… please don't stop, Laszlo, it felt so nice…”

He got back to it, a little more intensely than before, and your eyes rolled back when he really started to lap at you with his tongue— harder and wider each time, making you writhe from the intensity of it.

You couldn't even describe the sound you made when he pushed his tongue inside you.  He moaned against you in response to it, though, and thank God, he kept going.

He kept petting your thighs, even encouraging you when your legs clamped down around his head unintentionally; presumably that was his way of saying it wasn’t giving him any pain, which you were a bit concerned about, even if you couldn’t really stop yourself.  Sometimes you had the strength to meet his gaze, but most of the time you felt like you’d melt if you looked back at him— the way he was staring up at you was just too fiery, too intense, too beautiful.  

Just when you thought you were getting used to the pattern of his tongue’s movements on your clit, he gently pushed his two fingers back into your pulsing channel.  You were all tingly and sore inside, but a long, deep moan fell from your mouth as your back arched.

“Beautiful,” he praised, the word muffled by what he was doing— which he got back to more urgently than ever, twisting and thrusting his fingers inside you carefully at first.

“J-just like that,” you pleaded.  “Oh, Laszlo, I— I didn't know anything could… feel like this…”

You could feel the smallest smirk on his lips as he continued; even just being able to feel his smug smile there was such a lovely, erotic, totally novel concept to you.  

When he really buried his face in your legs, you could feel the roughness of his beard against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and buttocks, and god was it the most beautifully filthy feeling.  It was really an excellent metaphor for the whole thing: the symbol of his maturity, the well-kempt facial hair itself a balance between his wildness and his meticulous self-control, rubbing raw your delicate and untouched skin in such an intimate place.  If you weren’t too busy shaking and crying and seeing stars on this bed, you might have appreciated the beauty in those parallels, but clearly you weren’t capable of thinking about it to that level of depth.

The stream of helpless praises you'd been trying to hold back earlier?  There was absolutely nothing stopping it from spilling forward now.  “You're incredible,” you blurted out, your hand holding tighter to the sheets beneath you.  “Laszlo— my husband— you… you must be the devil, o-or an angel or prophet— or something. You make me feel things, such incredible things, that I didn't even know—”

He opened his mouth wide around you, breaking the seal of his lips so he could speak against your skin.  “I'm just a man,” he promised, “I'm just a husband becoming addicted to his new wife's pleasure, that's all, my dear.”

As he started to do it again so suddenly, you reacted suddenly as well: your hand found his hair and grabbed it, and your mind was too far gone to worry about it being too aggressive.  Not that he gave any signs of annoyance— if anything it was the opposite, as he lapped at you harder in response.  

This, of course made your hips jump up— until his hand slipped out of you, grabbing them and pulling them down, keeping you still as he continued.  The simple show of dominance affected you greatly, another heavy pulse of pleasure hitting you suddenly.

“I-I'm close,” you whispered.  “Laszlo, I'm so close— and it feels so different than before— I swear, nothing's ever felt so— fuck!”

He hummed encouragingly, and your whole body rocked in time with the growing pressure.  His fingers sliding back inside you, seeming to curl even more than before, certainly added to the sensation.

Just as you were teetering on the edge, his teeth grazed impossibly-carefully over you, a sharp and raw sort of pleasure jolting your entire body.  Of course, you couldn't fight against that, and the feeling inside you snapped as yet another flood of pleasure ripped through your body.  Your ears were ringing but you still heard how loud you must have been, how totally wrecked and helpless your moans had become.  

It wasn’t as… aggressive of a feeling as the one that had made you… you know… but it was probably the most powerful in its own way.  The highest, the heaviest, the most whole.  You couldn't hear him moaning against you through all that, but you could feel it: a deep and bassy vibration that only heightened the feeling even more.  Your moans turned to cries and then sobs; it was too much, the feeling was spilling over inside you— you weren't sure how much longer you could take it all before you broke.

It seemed, however, that he broke first; he pulled away and sat up, leaving you both panting, sweaty messes.  

“God, you're so beautiful,” he sighed, grabbing you by the neck to pull you up into a filthy, heated kiss.  You surrendered instantly, grabbing into his shoulders with hands that were still pricked with pins and needles as your high dissipated slowly.  “I can't wait anymore,” he mumbled against your lips, “I need to be inside you.”

“Please,” you gasped softly— you'd been waiting for this all night, at least.  You'd never imagined yourself so eager, so desperate for it, though…

He made quick work untying his robe, leaning over you as he held tightly onto his cock and guided the swollen, leaking head between your lips.  Yes, even with desire coursing through your veins, a touch of anxiety was still present.  You just couldn’t imagine what this was going to be like, you could still hardly believe it was happening to you— and, though it was a bit crass to think, you were a bit surprised by the brief glance of his cock that you’d gotten.  You wouldn’t really know what was big or small or normal or abnormal when it came to that… you had nothing to compare it to.  What you did know was that it seemed much… thicker, than seemed appropriate to go inside you.  Of course you knew that a young woman’s first experience could be painful, you’d heard that bleeding was normal (if not expected, but that seemed a bit barbaric and certainly not what a progressive man like Laszlo was after) — yet, you still weren’t properly scared.  It was just the sort of anticipation that made you shiver and let out a long breath to compose yourself.

He groaned a little as he continued to rub against you, and you noticed the arm that held him up over you was shaking.  You could only imagine how frustrating it must have been to be giving you all that attention and not getting any in return for so long, and you could only hope he might take a little of that frustration out on you…

“Please,” you said again, quieter, as you looked up at him.  Thankfully, that was enough to make him press forward and slide into you all at once.

While his fingers had stretched you in such strange, sometimes overwhelming ways, his cock… it just fit.  It filled you exactly the way you needed— not too wide or too deep… though you suspected it would've been had he not prepared you so incredibly thoroughly.  And while his tongue has made you feel such unimaginable things, though his lips had effortlessly sucked ecstasy from your shaking body, having him inside you felt so simple and natural and easy.  

He hissed in his breaths as he moved— slow at first, but each one just a bit faster than the last.  Every movement stimulated all the places he'd already awoken inside you, and your legs moved on their own to latch around his hips while your head fell back with a satisfied sigh.

“My angel,” he groaned, staring down at you as each of his thrusts rocked you under him.  “I knew I— fuck, darling— I knew I'd have trouble keeping myself together when I was finally inside you.  Yet you're… you're even more perfect than I imagined.”

You smiled proudly, reaching up to hold his shoulders; he seemed encouraged by that, becoming just a bit rougher in his movements until your nails accidentally dug into his skin just a bit.

“I won't be able to last much longer,” he grunted, “but I-I can't stop.  I can't even slow down, I never… I've never lost control like this before.”

A shiver ran up your whole body, even seeming to make you clench inside— and he moaned in return, a beautifully pitiful sound.  

“I'm sorry,” he offered between panting breaths, and you barely mustered the energy to laugh. 

“Beloved, what do you have to apologize for?” you teased through a grin.  “Surely you're not worried that I will be left unsatisfied.”

“I would rather bring you to orgasm again,” he explained, “but I'm so desperate for you, I'm afraid I lack the patience for it.”

“I would rather pleasure my husband, for once,” you replied, “but you couldn't possibly feel what I felt, I don't think I'll ever be able to really return the favor—”

“It's no favor,” he insisted.  “Your pleasure is what I desire.  And a good wife gives her husband what he desires, no?”

You whimpered desperately, pathetically even.  “I'll be good for you, Laszlo,” you promised weakly, “I want to be a good wife to you…”

“You're a very good wife, my dear,” he assured.  “Look how much pleasure you've let me take from you, look how you've soaked our bed with your lovely nectar…”

You weren't sure which part of that aroused you the most… but our bed was a serious contender.

“And you taste absolutely divine,” he added, before kissing you again to let you taste it, too.  It was a sloppy and needy kiss, not precise and careful like basically everything else he'd done to you so far, but you loved it.  You loved any sign that he might be just as desperate as you.

Once again his speed and intensity picked up, until you could hear his skin hitting against yours loudly, and your back arched a bit at how perfectly dirty it felt.  His cock hit a spot deep inside you, and you sucked in a sharp breath.  “Laszlo,” you blurted out, and he groaned as he moved his kiss to your neck.  

“Keep saying my name,” he demanded.  “Tell me who your husband is— who makes you feel this way you've never felt before.”

“Laszlo,” you said again, “I'm yours.  Anything you want from me, it's yours.”

“Yes,” he agreed with a heavy sigh.

“Your wife, always,” you continued, and it made your own heart swell along with encouraging him: he moved faster, rocked deeper into you, and breathed heavy against your ear as your back arched from the erotic perfection of the moment.

“My wife,” he repeated, making you whine and nod and bear down on him with your walls.

“Yes,” you gasped, “yes— yours, I’m yours—”

“I-I can't hold back anymore,” he moaned, “I don't… I don't even know if I can bring myself to pull out before—”

“Don't,” you begged.  “I want it inside, Laszlo.  I want all of you inside me.”

“Oh, darling, mein Schatz, I—” he choked, but he never finished his sentence.  He just moaned louder and louder and fucked you faster and faster— until you were nearly screaming from how hard he hammered into you.

It stopped all at once; he pressed himself as deep inside you as he could, so deep you felt like you were struggling to breathe, and hid his face in the curve of your neck as he came inside you.

And for a long, beautiful moment, you just laid together; you were sort of halfway between awake and asleep, your whole body thrummed with emotions and sensations you never thought you could fit within yourself.  Time passed, surely, but you wouldn’t have known the difference.  His weight on top of you wasn’t too heavy, though it did keep you pressed into the mattress and sheets— not that you were going anywhere anyways.

You only really came back to reality when you felt small kisses trailing your neck; you hummed and squirmed a little beneath him, making you both groan as it stirred where you were connected.  He must have been a bit sore, too, though you felt like you’d been through quite a lot more and had a better excuse.

He moved again, just barely, and you winced as you held onto his back.  “Don’t go,” you whispered, afraid of the pain if he didn’t just stay still inside you.

“I have to, sometime,” he breathed in return.

“But—”

“I know, my love,” he cooed, “I’d stay inside you forever if I could.  But I’ll hurt you more if I don’t give you time to rest.”

Resigning yourself with a sigh, you nodded a little and scrunched up your face as he pulled his hips back.  It did sting, but it faded quickly once he was out— and the feeling was replaced with a warm, wet feeling that you realized must have been his seed leaking out of you.  It made you feel a bit dirty, but wonderful, too.

He laid beside you with a deep breath, his hand coming up to your face and turning it so you would look back at him.  You had to blink a few times to really see clearly, and even still, everything seemed a bit blurry around the edges.  The whole world seemed a bit softer, really.  “I love you, darling wife,” he told you simply, his voice soft but no longer a whisper, and he pet your cheek as he leaned in to kiss the bridge of your nose.

“I love you too, husband,” you cooed in reply.  “You’re so wonderful— a-and you’re nothing like I imagined, sometimes.”

“Perhaps I should have been more careful,” he offered nervously.

“No— that was perfect,” you promised.

“I meant the very end, there,” he clarified, his hand running down over your body and resting on your stomach.  “You might have wanted to wait longer… if you had a child so soon, you might wish we had more time just the two of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he meant.  “Oh, that…” you mumbled, smiling a bit to yourself.

“I fully intended to have my finish elsewhere, to lower the chances— I didn’t think I would become so… impulsive,” he sighed.  “I hoped to still control myself, but I’m afraid I wasn’t quite able to, once I was within you.  But I couldn’t help it, with the way you feel…”

“It’s alright,” you laughed weakly, “it’s not as if I were acting rationally.  I never… I didn’t think I could be so… so—”

A thousand words came to mind.  Unladylike.  Animalistic.  Desperate.  Insatiable.

“I didn’t think I’d ever act like that,” you said instead, voice getting a little softer as you felt a bit shy again.

“I knew you would,” he responded, making you look at him with wide eyes and warming cheeks.

“You— but I— I was always—!”

“Yes, you behaved very well each time I met you” he recalled with a proud smile, “always so sweet and well-mannered.  But I knew you had so much need within you, so much hunger… a being of pure instinct just waiting to take over when the time was right.”

Your heart skipped a beat— you felt a bit… accused by that statement, yet you couldn’t really deny it.  Even if you hadn’t known it before, it was clearly true now.  “How… how could you have sensed that?” you wondered.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you again; you loved the way he looked in that moment.  His expression was familiar, but the total lack of composure— flushed cheeks, sweat on his brow, messed hair— was totally new and quite pleasant.  “If you didn’t have any desire to misbehave, my darling, you wouldn’t have been going out with me.”

[addict-rat]

Appointment

Dr. Thomas Fischer x Fem!Reader AU Oneshot

Summary: You have an appointment with your OB/GYN today. Unfortunately, the man just happens to be the subject of your latest fantasy.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Minors DNI - Explicit 18+ NSFW smut (including f!stimulation with medical tool & fingers, consensual sex), medical/doctor kink, unethical medical practices & behavior, heavily detailed medical procedures (breast & pelvic exams), reader anxiety, infidelity, secret fantasy, explicit language, twist ending

A/N: Please heed the warnings, and please don't click 'Keep reading' if you are not willing to see such content.

This fic is shameless, born both from writing the last fic & the several Dr. Fischer posts by @scuttle-buttle. But I'll use it for a quick note - please take care of your physical anatomy, friends. Despite how awkward and uncomfortable the various exams can be, I encourage you to please find doctors that you are comfortable with and stay vigilant on your health. And, now....

You sat on the exam table, bare beneath the open-in-the-front gown wrapped around your torso and the thin sheet draped across your legs. The table’s crinkly paper stuck to the skin of your legs as you waited for the doctor to arrive, wondering how much longer he would be.

Not that you were in a hurry, really. Ever since meeting him six years ago, you’d struggled with your insane attraction to him. How could you not? With lush hair, chocolate pools for eyes, and dark facial scruff that you wanted to scratch your skin - he was exactly your type. Even picturing him in your mind’s eye as you sat on the table made your heart race, and fuck - you were too sexually frustrated for this OB/GYN appointment today.

The door opened and your heart rate kicked up a notch. Of course, he looked just as gorgeous as you remembered, with his side-swept hair and well-kept beard above his white coat and pale dress shirt. A black stethoscope draped around his open shirt collar, and you tried not to stare.

He flashed you a pleasant smile as he closed the door, speaking in those soft, faintly-accented tones. “Hello, good to see you again.” He said your name, and you’d always liked how it sounded. “How have you been?”

“Fine, good.” You forced a smile to your face, despite the unwanted heat booming along your skin. “It’s been a good year. Uh, how about you?”

His smile widened for a quick second as he perched against the counter. “Just fine, thank you.” He dropped his gaze as he opened your chart. “Any major changes in your health this past year?”

“No.” You confirmed as your thighs pressed together of their own volition.

“And are you still happy with the IUD? Looks like you have two years left until it needs removal.”

You nodded. “Yes, still happy with it.”

“Good.” He nodded in return, still scanning over your chart’s notes. “And, still sexually active in a monogamous relationship?”

“Yes...well, whenever my husband makes the time, at least.” You swore you saw a flash of surprise across his face, but whatever it was, he caught his reaction and schooled it quickly.

He flipped back to the front page of your file. “Well, we did your Pap smear last year, so we shouldn’t have to do one this year unless we find something of concern. We’ll do your exam, check your IUD strings, and get you on your way.”

You nodded, shifting against the crinkly paper, wishing he hadn’t mentioned the string check. But even if you didn’t need a Pap smear, you would never be spared the speculum as long as you had the IUD implant.

He dropped your file to the counter with a small, closed-mouth smile before he approached the table. “So, we’ll start at the top and work down.”

You released a deep breath as he stood in front of you, catching a waft of his delicious cedar and spice cologne on the inhale. He spoke, firm and soft. “Look straight ahead.”

You did as he said, resisting the urge to squirm as his warm, dexterous fingers fell against your neck. He felt along your throat, vocal chords, and thyroid. You tried to look anywhere but his sharp, kind eyes, focusing on a point over his shoulder and hoping your avoidance wasn’t too deliberate. You were already struggling to keep your breathing even, and you wondered how much he already knew about your anxious state.

His fingers brushed twin points along your throat. “And swallow.”

Nothing about his words should make your mouth go dry, but the pitch of his voice absolutely did. You forced a swallow, trying not to choke on air.

His hands fell away, seemingly satisfied before he reached for his stethoscope. “Now, for your heart.” He fixed the earpieces as he placed his right hand on your shoulder and pressed the chestpiece to your heart over the gown’s thin fabric. “Deep breath in, and out.”

You heard his words, of course, but following them was another matter when the heat of his hand on your shoulder was so comforting, so distracting. Your heart pounded, surely deafening him as you drew a slow inhale before pushing the breath back out. At his silence, you took another breath, trying to ignore the steady weight of his hand.

He pulled the stethoscope back, face pinching with careful concern. “Your heart is racing, but otherwise, no concerns.” His right hand squeezed your shoulder ever so supportively. “Are you nervous about something?”

Embarrassed heat rushed along your skin as you shook your head. “No...not about anything in particular.”

He hummed low in his throat, considering your words. “Did something happen in the last year that could be triggering your reaction now?”

Other than you finally admitting to yourself that you had a thing for your unfairly attractive OB/GYN - no, nothing else had happened. And instead of squashing the thought, you indulged the silly little fantasy and let it grow in your mind until you were helpless in this moment.

You drew a breath, feeling your skin burn further as his thumb started to stroke a comforting pattern on your shoulder. “No...just - I guess another year older, and it’s just another chance to find something concerning.”

That seemed to satisfy him and his hand fell from your shoulder. “Well, that’s exactly why these annual exams are so important. Prevention and early detection are key.” He looped the stethoscope back around his neck with practiced ease. “Lay back, please, and we’ll continue.”

You nodded, glancing back to align your head with the flimsy pillow under the uncomfortable paper. Staring at the ceiling tiles above, you resolutely refused to look at him. Liquid heat already gathered in your center and you didn’t need to encourage its spread with the image of his amber-brown eyes looming over you.

“Right arm up, and we’ll start with the right breast.” His voice floated over you, and you caught the top of his head in your peripheral as he stepped to the table’s edge.

God, you knew it was going to get worse but shame burned through you as you raised your arm to rest over your head. Gently, the edge of your open gown peeled away under his touch, and his warm fingers descended on your supple flesh. Of course, his touch was clinical, searching around the gland lobules for any concerning lumps, but you couldn’t shake the tender warmth or capable strength of his hands as they moved. Your nipples stiffened of their own accord, suddenly desperate to feel his thumb and forefinger close around the sensitized bud. Your legs shifted as you forced a swallow, praying to whatever deity would listen to keep from making a traitorous sound.

His hands moved away without giving you the relief you craved, and you nearly whimpered as he spoke. “And now, for the left.”

You switched your arms, taking another deep breath as he parted your gown on the other side. Again, his fingers returned to perform the routine exam and you felt yourself grow helplessly wetter. Fuck, you were so beyond fucked...after this, there would be no hiding from him. You forced yourself to take another deep breath, nibbling your lip and still steadfastly staring at the ceiling as your toes flexed anxiously.

His fingernail scraped the edge of your nipple, and you jolted against the exam table with a gasp. Your vision suddenly filled with his gorgeous face, the dark moles along his cheek and under his right ear so prominent from this angle. “Was that a tender spot?” Again, his fingers moved over the skin just below your nipple and, again, the edge of his nail dragged a delicious friction.

You bit your lip against a whimper, not wanting to admit the truth. “N-no, not tender.”

He didn’t look convinced, but his hands finally relented and he stepped out of your vision. “You can sit up for a moment, if you want.” He adjusted the edge of your gown to restore your modesty before he moved for the end of the table.

Pushing up on an unsteady elbow, your stomach pitted with absolute dread to watch him extend the stirrups. All too soon, he would see the evidence of your shame, the evidence of your burning, uncontrollable desire.

He caught your gaze with the hint of a knowing, supportive smile. “Like every other year, hips to the end of the table, please. And feet up.” He turned his back as he stepped over to the counter, giving you a moment of relative privacy to assume the awkward position.

The paper crinkled beneath you with a deafening finality, and the fabric covers of the stirrups did little to disguise the shape from your heels as you again lay back against the table’s surface. Of course, you kept your knees together under the thin sheet, or, at least as together as you could manage. You weren’t going to fully expose yourself until you absolutely had to.

You stared at his back, powerless to not admire the broad line of his shoulders in the white coat and the competent ease with which he wore it. He sat on the wheeled stool, and you could just see where he’d laid out the speculum, and lubricating jelly beside it. You tore your gaze back to the ceiling as he turned around, the wheels of the stool rolling against the floor back towards the table.

Fuck, fuck...your cheeks started to burn and your breath quickened.

His hand gently knocked at your clenched knees with an almost teasing, but encouraging scold. “Come on, you know the drill - knees apart, please.”

Wishing the table would open up and swallow you whole, you let your knees go slack and thighs fall wide as he adjusted the sheet back to expose your core fully to his gaze. The click of a lightswitch sounded and you refused to look or breathe as his gloved fingers gently prodded around your labia and other sensitive folds, looking for any visible signs of illness or concern.

Of course, his fingers found your natural slick without even trying. Of course, it spread around your skin under his examining touch, and of course, your already swollen skin ached further under the pressure of his gloved fingers. You drew a trembling breath, tensing against the table to keep yourself still or from releasing a condemning sound.

“May I ask,” his voice sounded deeper somehow, a light rasp to his words. "Would you say that you’re sexually touch starved?” His fingers continued to move against your aroused skin, and you burned hotter.

“N-not really….”

“Hmm, but you mentioned that your husband, perhaps, isn’t always the most attentive to your intimate needs?”

“He is,” you hated how breathless your words came as you struggled not to rock against his fingers. “But only...only when it’s convenient for his schedule.”

He hummed again. “And how long has it been since it was convenient for his schedule?”

You bit your lip. “Almost three months.”

His index finger prodded against your entrance, deliberately mixing lubricant with your natural slick. “No wonder then that you’re so sensitive to my touch.”

God, yes. But even if your husband had just touched you last night, you’d still be delirious for your doctor’s touch here and now.

A blunt, metallic weight settled to your soaked opening before he spoke again. “You’ll feel some slight pressure.”

And you did as the speculum slid home, spreading you wide. You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes closed as if that would keep you from imagining his handsome face so close to where you ached.

“Well,” he said softly, “your IUD strings appear to be hiding, but we’ll find them.” The wheels of his stool rolled back to the counter and you fought the urge to close your legs. But he returned just as quick, settling back between your thighs. “This shouldn’t hurt, but you’ll feel some deep movement.”

You bit your lip harder, amazed you hadn’t drawn blood as a slim tool worked into your body. The soft tip of it brushed along your cervix with gentle pokes and prods. It skimmed over an unknown, deep-rooted nerve, and pleasure bolted up your spine to steal your breath. Again, he passed over that same spot and your legs trembled in the stirrups, feeling yourself grow impossibly, embarrassingly wetter as you choked on a moan.

“There they are,” he said, and you swore you could feel the gust of his hot breath as he swept the tool over the white-hot spot again, “tucked along your anterior fornix.”

You were near dizzy with desperate arousal, fingers clenching in the fabric of your gown to try and hold yourself still. He withdrew the tool and you exhaled sharply against the unsatisfied need that still burned within you. The speculum also disappeared just as quick before he wheeled back to the counter to dispose of them.

He stood, moving back between your legs to continue the pelvic exam. You could just see the top of his dark head in the bottom of your vision as two of his gloved fingers circled your opening before pushing inside. Your body easily accepted his intrusion and you caught a whimper high in the back of your throat. Your toes curled, warring with yourself to hold still and not push into his touch as his right hand pressed to your abdomen.

He pushed gently against your belly, feeling for your ovaries and uterus as his fingers examined your inner walls. They crooked, brushing over a shallower, elusive spot, electrifying your body as your cry echoed off the exam room walls.

This time, when you caught his gaze, there was no denying the lurking dark hunger, the brown of his eyes nearly consumed by his blown pupils. “Another tender spot?” His voice held a shockingly contrasting clinical edge as he pushed against your abdomen again while crooking his fingers against the spot of mindless bliss.

Your body went taught against the table as the coils of pleasure tightened at the base of your spine. You tried to find words through your heaving breaths. “N-no...not tender. At least,” you whimpered as his fingers moved again and your feet flexed against the unyielding stirrups, “not painful.”

His answering hum sounded distinctly more like a growl of approval, especially as you started to writhe against his steady, unrelenting touch. Each stroke of his fingers torqued the tension in your center higher, and you didn’t catch the trembling moans that spilled from your lips. The pressure of his hand on your abdomen lessened, but the curling, rubbing motion of his fingers continued to drive you wild in a delicious torture. God, you needed him...fuck, you would die without him.

“Please,” you heard yourself whimper softly, “Dr. Fischer, please….”

“Yes?” He asked with tender concern as the movement of his fingers continued unhurried.

“I want….” Your words stalled as his fingers shifted, withdrawing ever so slightly before pushing back in. A trembling gasp left you as you wanted anything, everything.

His purred voice washed over you. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

His words shot a bolt of forbidden arousal through you, further soaking your center around his merciless fingers. Shameful heat burned your skin but your mind was too far gone to care. “I want...t-to come.”

“As touch starved as you are, that shouldn't be a problem.” His voice dropped to a sinfully low register as he continued to touch you and you continued to twist against the crinkling paper table.

“No - not with your fingers,” you managed to croak around another moan. “I want you. Inside me.”

He moaned low in his throat as his dark eyes continued to drink you in, curling his fingers for emphasis. “But I’m already inside you.”

Your hand fisted against the paper in frustration, feeling it tear beneath your nails. “Fuck - your cock...I want your cock inside me.”

The last thread of his restraint snapped and his fingers roughly withdrew. You barely had time to contemplate the splat of his glove on the floor, the clink of his belt buckle, and the falling of his zipper before the heat of his bare hips met yours. The hard, blunt tip of his cock pressed to your opening, sliding inside with no resistance. You cried out at the perfect hot, thick stretch of him, loving his answering groan in return.

He set a harsh, fast rhythm - indicative of just how worked up you both were - as his strong hands held your hips fixed at the end of the table. Each thrust threatened to push you upwards, jolting you against the obnoxious paper as you pushed back against him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, head thrown back with a lock of dark, dislodged hair across his forehead. “You’re so hot, so tight - you’re gonna...fuck, I’m not gonna last.”

“Do it,” you pleaded, near delirious with pleasure, so close to the edge. “I want it - want you. Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

His hips found a desperate vigor as his hands tightened with bruising strength - and god, yes, you wanted him to mark you. To claim you as his. With another brutal snap of his hips, your body shattered around him, shockwaves of ecstasy whiting out your mind. Over the rush of blood in your ears, you heard his moan echo off the sterile walls as he planted his release deep in you.

You relaxed back against the table, finding the paper uncomfortably sticky and damp with perspiration as you tried to find your breath. The heavy weight of your doctor slumped forward, his panting breaths hot against your chest and neck. Your fingers wove through his soft hair as a stupid, goofy smile split your face. “Fuck…,” you sighed, blissed out. “I love you so fucking much.”

“Fucking hell,” he mumbled, words slurred as he sighed against you. “That...I didn’t ever expect it to be like that.”

Giddy happiness surged through you. “God, you did so good, babe - that was so perfect.”

He shook his head weakly. “You didn’t make it easy - fuck - the look in your eyes, the way you twitched against the table and bit your lip….” He shifted to nuzzle your nose with his, rasping his stubble against your cheek in the way he knew you liked. “I wanted to do away with the whole charade before even getting you to the end of the table.”

You beamed with pride, trailing your fingers down his nape, toying beneath the collar of his shirt and white coat. “Thank you for toughing it out.”

He sighed again, relaxing against you as you cradled his body close. “I love you so much.”

Your mouth met his, drowning in his kiss as your heart threatened to burst with love for your husband of three years. You both continued to bask in each other’s kiss and touch, reveling in the afterglow of your shared intimacy. His weight grew heavy and you shifted beneath him, wincing gently at the cooling, sticky wetness where your bare skin still touched.

The kiss tapered off and you raked a hand through his hair, still coming down from your high. “That was a nice touch with the hidden IUD strings - I’ve never felt anything like that before.”

He chuckled softly. “They were pushed up in your cervix a bit, but I couldn’t resist introducing you to your anterior fornix erogenous zone - more casually known as the A-spot.” He kissed along the shell of your ear, whispering just for you. “And you were so beautiful - sometime, I will make you come just from stimulating that spot. I could see you getting wetter with each stroke, and I can’t wait to see if we can coax an ejaculation from you.”

You groaned, arching against him as a fresh wave of hungry desire flared in your sated core. “Oh, fuck - yes, please.”

He nipped your ear as his hand drifted along your side in tender strokes. “Though, I’m not entirely sure that you’ve earned it, Liebchen - those were terrible, false things to say about your husband.”

A wicked laugh left you. “Did you like that? I had to give you some element of surprise.” He pulled his head back, fixing you with a venomless glare as you continued. “Something to tempt you with, Dr. Fischer.”

“As if you’re not enough, Mrs. Fischer.” His mouth quirked with a small grin as he shook his head. “With what I found between your legs, you’d think that I really hadn’t touched you in months.”

“Fortunately, we both know that’s not true.”

When you had first confessed your fantasy to your husband, he hadn’t judged you for it, but he was expressly curious. Of course, given his profession and all the ethical implications surrounding the fantasy, it took him a while to agree to it. But on your birthday, he made a promise that you would both find a night at his practice after hours, establish a safeword, and see how the fantasy played out.

And now, that you lay here, boneless and content with the love of your life - you couldn’t wait for the next appointment with your doctor.

Tag BrühList: @mischief-rcs @everythingbeginsineternity-blog

[addict-rat]

𝐄𝐆𝐎. | 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐳 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | your favorite client, a man who identifies solely as HerrKino, offers you an amazing opportunity... for a price. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | daniel weltz (nebenan/next door, 2021) x fem!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.3k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SPOILERS FOR NEBENAN!, smut (MDNI!), fingering, skype sex, infidelity (weltz is married), mentions of sex work, onlyfans-adjacent type website shenanagins 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | as soon as bruno mentioned denise and said the phrase "personalfans.com" i've been in a state of complete disbelief underlined with horny (and fear, that not only does daniel KNOW what onlyfans is but has intimate knowledge of how it works oof) anyway (also, title taken from the song that plays over the opening and end credits, "ego" by siriusmo bc it felt accurate yknow)

Your phone chirped one, two, three times, on the table, rattling the glasses with each notification you received. “Jesus!” Rosa giggled, grabbing her drink before it could be vibrated off the tabletop. “Popular, are we?”

You scoffed. “Not sure popular is the right word,” you mumbled, quickly palming your cell. You looked at the notifications for just long enough to gauge what app they were coming from, and your skin thrummed with life when you saw the small green messaging app icon, along with the contact name of “danny boy”. Berlin was seven hours ahead of you; it was around two AM for him then. Clara must have fallen asleep, or maybe she wasn’t even home at all. Otherwise, why would Daniel be texting you?

danny boy: Hi princess. I missed you lots today.

danny boy: Clara was out this morning, so I watched back one of your videos and jerked off in the shower. I miss your pretty little face.

danny boy: Is now a good time?

You quickly replied, nodding along with Rosa’s story and pretending to be paying attention:

princess: now’s no good :(. so sorry daddy, i’ll make it up to u. what video did u watch?

danny boy: Don’t worry, princess, it’s ok. I watched the video where you wore that sweet little cow bikini. It’s one of my favorites.

You remembered the one he talked about, and you remembered laying on your back in your small student housing apartment, furiously rubbing your clit and stretching awkwardly to make sure the camera could see your glistening and weeping pussy. In the moment, you certainly did not feel sexy, but then Daniel had sent you back a video of him tugging his thick cock, hairy thighs spread open to show himself to you, and that made the whole experience worth it.

When it first started, you had no fucking clue who Daniel Weltz was. After all, you grew up in America, totally detached from European— especially German— media. Yeah, you had seen that Wes Anderson film once in high school, and you had watched that boring Stasi film in World Politics 101 back in freshman year of university, but you wouldn’t have been able to pick him out of a crowd if you had to. The night you met Daniel, you had been streaming on that dumb website that Rosa had introduced you to, PersonalFans.com, under the dumb name that she had set up for you (embarrassingly, it was PrincessDoll), and you took notice when a new viewer entered the chat. You had a solid group of maybe five gentlemen who were regular viewers, but this new one caught your attention. His username was HerrKino, and he had lingered in the chat until you had moaned and covered your pink dildo in cum, and then a little chime had come from your computer:

HerrKino tipped you 100 Coins!

You hadn’t believed it at first. You thought that maybe you were hallucinating the amount, or maybe the PersonalFans website had glitched, because who the actual fuck was tipping 100 coins on a stream of only tame, frankly vanilla, masturbation? You had raced to do the math— each coin was roughly $5, so whoever this HerrKino was had tipped you $500 for essentially doing nothing. When you ended the stream, you quickly popped him a message, expressing your appreciation for the large tip and inquiring about whether he had intended to send that much, and he had responded within minutes:

HerrKino: Yes, princess, I meant what I sent. You’re so beautiful, especially the way your sweet pussy stretched to fit that toy. Have you ever taken a real cock that big before?

Nothing you hadn’t been asked before.

PrincessDoll: no, i haven’t. i’m actually a virgin :,(

HerrKino: Really? But you’re so good at it. You don’t have to lie and act innocent to me, princess. It’s ok.

PrincessDoll: i’m not lying, i really haven’t had sex before. nobody can do what i need them to, so i just do it myself.

HerrKino: What do you need them to do?

PrincessDoll: if you want me to show you, i’m afraid i’ll have to charge you ;)

HerrKino tipped you 50 Coins! Is that enough to see your pussy take that toy again?

He quickly became one of your regulars, and you began to talk outside of streams and private Skypes. You had become acquainted with his cock well before you ever even saw his face, and your mouth would water at the sight of his thick, hard cock caught in his fist. Most of the time, those Skype calls had him situated in his bathroom, his tablet sitting on the counter as he jerked off to you, the shower running to mask any noise. You had quickly found out the reason for his discretion: a wife. According to HerrKino, he had been married for a few years and had two small children with the woman, but he was growing bored of her lack of intimacy. We haven’t fucked since Emil was born, he texted you one night. That was almost three years ago. A man has needs. It wasn’t uncommon for your patrons on the website to be secretive about their lives and the circumstances in which they found themselves on the site, but you didn’t even have a name for him until about five months into the affair. By then, you had found out that he lived in Berlin but was born in Spain, that his wife was a doctor, and he frequently seemed to be between jobs. However, no matter the recurring unemployment, every tip he sent you went through successfully. He was a generous man with deep pockets, for sure, and he always sent you money for new outfits or toys or whatever you desired. He had even promised you a new laptop when the camera on your old one had broken, and you had nearly begun to cry when you found the sleek white box of a Macbook waiting for you. The night you found out, you had been texting him on the covert messaging app, one that didn’t use cell service so that his wife wouldn’t see the messages on their phone bill, and you had harmlessly asked what his name was.

HerrKino: Dan.

PrincessDoll: just dan?

HerrKino: That’s all you need to know, princess.

PrincessDoll: what, are u famous or something? lol

The conversation halted for the rest of the night, which, to you, was a confirmation that he was in fact somebody that could be recognized. Out of awful curiosity, you had navigated to Google and typed in a few key words that you knew about HerrKino/Dan: Daniel Berlin Emil Movies. Since you had translated what his username meant the minute you paid attention to it, you figured it was a safe assumption that he was somehow involved with film. But you never could have guessed what Google pulled up for you when you hit search.

According to his Wikipedia page, Daniel Weltz was 43 years old, born in Barcelona and raised in Cologne, but now lived in the hip Berlin-Kreuzberg. He had begun acting pretty much right out of high school, making a name for himself in German films, first as an autistic boy in an indie film titled Black Velvet (which, when you were finally able to secure a VPN worth a damn and stream the film on German Netflix, you sobbed yourself to sleep) and then as a caring East-German lad in a movie that was heralded as an instant classic. You remembered him as the chirpy reporter from the Wes Anderson film— your high school boyfriend was annoyingly into Wes Anderson and had forced you to watch all of his films several times over— and Wikipedia said that it was his most well-known film role, apart from his role as a doctor in the show Mindful about Boston in the early 1900s. You had never watched it, but apparently he was pretty good in it.

You almost didn’t want to believe what you were reading. It seemed so impossible. You had always heard about girls catching the attention of celebrities online, but you had never imagined that it could happen to you, let alone with Germany’s golden boy. You had convinced yourself that it wasn’t real and that surely there was some other guy that lived in Berlin named Dan that had a son named Emil that liked movies, but then you watched Black Velvet again. There was a scene in the film where his character was sitting on the floor of the shower, fully nude and crying into his hands, and you recognized a small triangle-shaped collection of freckles just above the base of his exposed cock. Your Dan had the same freckles in the same triangle configuration. You remembered them well: you had commented on them once, about how you wanted to lick him from the head of his cock to those little freckles. It was him. Daniel Weltz was your sugar daddy.

You had confronted him the very next day about it.

PrincessDoll: r u daniel weltz?? pls be honest with me

You got the notification that he had read the message, and the little bubbles appeared as he typed, but then they disappeared. A few seconds later, your phone had begun to vibrate with a Skype call from him, and you answered it and was finally greeted by Daniel Weltz’s big brown eyes, the same ones that he had used to make big eyes at Bill Murray in the dumb Wes Anderson movie. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you,” he told you. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. And then, when I started to… I just needed to know that you weren’t with me for my fame or anything.”

You could fill in his blanks. After nearly half a year, you could read his mind. “Danny,” you whispered gently. “I’d love you even if you didn’t do all that you do for me. The computer and the clothes and everything, I don’t need that. I just… My heart races whenever I see you texted me. You’re so intoxicating. I love you.”

Daniel had pursed his lips and nodded, and he whispered, “I love you too, meine schatz.”

You quickly pecked out a message to Daniel hoping to placate him until you could get home.

princess: i’ll be able to call in about half an hour, can u wait until then??

danny boy: Whatever you want, princess. I don’t even need you like that, I just want to talk to you.

princess: about anything special?

danny boy: Yes, actually. I served Clara divorce papers this morning.

That made you feel as if you had been electrocuted. Almost a full year that this affair had been going on, of promising over and over that he would divorce Clara, and the day was finally here.

princess: oh shit. r u doing ok??

danny boy: It’s not easy. She took it really hard and left and hasn’t come back. I’m just concerned that she’ll talk to the courts and I won’t even get visitation with my sons. She’ll spin some fucking lie about how I’m absent or abusive or whatever. Which I’m not, for the record. I’m a great father.

princess: oh, daniel, i am so fucking sorry. i can’t imagine what you’re going thru.

danny boy: No, princess, it’s long past time for this to happen. I should have done this back when I first figured out she was fucking Morton. It’s a relief more than anything. We’re officially separated and the divorce process has started. Who fucking knows how long it’ll take, but the first step is done.

princess: good for you, babe. i’m proud of u :) i’m here if u need to talk it out

danny boy: I think I want to make our relationship public. Of course, I want your take on it, but I’ve been thinking about it more and more lately.

princess: really? but i’m just some stupid little slut u met online

danny boy: Don’t fucking say that. You’re so much more than that. If you were here in Berlin, I’d do everything and be your proper boyfriend, but you’re there and I’m here, so we make do.

princess: maybe i can scrounge up some money and get a plane ticket, just for the weekend or whatever. i’ve been dying to meet u irl

danny boy: I’ll ask my assistant if there’s any strings I can pull. I definitely have enough frequent flyer miles to get you over here. I need to hold you in my arms and smell your hair and feel your heartbeat. I need you to be mine.

princess: i *am* urs, danny. i’m all urs.

“Hello?” Rosa said, snapping a few times, and you blinked yourself away from your phone. “Earth to my best friend? What’s happening over there?”

You had mentioned to Rosa small details about your affair with Daniel, but you had never spilled all the beans. You drew in a quick breath, trying to decide what details were pertinent, and you said, “Umm, remember that German guy I told you about? That I met on PersonalFans?”

Rosa nodded, sliding the olive off of the skewer from her martini. “The one with the horse cock?”

“That’s the one,” you nodded. “Well, umm… He’s getting a divorce. And he wants to fly me out to meet him.”

“Jesus!” Rosa giggled. “That’s insane! This is how girls go missing, you know?”

“No, no, Danny’s not like that,” you mumbled. “He’s a good guy. Funny and kind, maybe a little full of himself but, you know, he has every right to be—”

“What does he do?” Rosa asked.

“Huh?”

“Like, as a job?” Rosa clarified. “Weird German dude with too much money and free time? Is he, like, the president of Germany?”

“First of all, Germany doesn’t have a president, they have a chancellor,” you started. “Second of all, no, he’s not. He’s just a well-off guy who was bored in his marriage. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, but… Danny’s different. I have a great feeling about him, I really do.”

“Alright,” Rosa chuckled. “Just don’t come crying to me when he traps you in a hole in his basement and wears your face as a mask.”

You returned home quickly after that and slammed open your computer and hit call on Skype for HerrKino; he had never changed his account name on PersonalFans, nor on Skype, and you had surmised that it likely was because he had no fucking clue how to (which, likewise, hence the username PrincessDoll). The line only rung for a second, long enough for you to slip in the expensive Airpods that Daniel had bought for you (“A better quality microphone, so I can hear every last little whimper of yours,” he had said when you got the package in the mail), and suddenly his face filled your screen. His video was always a little fuzzy due to patchy Internet that he said was a general German thing, but it was clear enough for you to see the little freckles dotting his flushed cheeks. “Hi, princess,” he chuckled in his deep timbre.

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed. “Y-You really wanna fly me out to Berlin?”

“If you’d like,” Daniel said. He looked as if he were sitting on his bed, the blue blankets and covers rumpled up by his head as he situated his computer on his stomach. “Or Fiji, or Barcelona, Los Angeles; wherever you’d like.”

“Oh, God,” you mumbled and pressed your palms to your warm cheeks. “Oh, fuck, Daniel. I-I wanna meet you, but, like, holy shit. I don’t speak German, how am I supposed to find my way around Berlin?”

“With a very handsome tour guide,” Daniel told you. “We don’t even have to leave the house, if you don’t want to. I can have my brother take care of Carl and Emil for the weekend, and we can have the entire house to ourselves.”

You chewed on your lip, and you carefully rubbed your thighs together. The mere thought of being in Daniel’s presence made your skin prickle and your clit throb a bit, and you said, “What would you like to do, if we had the house all to ourselves?”

“Well,” Daniel began with a sigh. “I would have to fuck you. Everywhere. In the kitchen, the bathroom. I’d fuck you right here, in this bed, until the sun came up.”

“How would you fuck me?” you asked.

Daniel gave you a crooked smile, and he grunted a little as he situated his computer off to his side. As he moved, you did too, putting your computer between your legs and lifting your skirt just enough to expose your pink panties to him. Even though the light was dim, you could see the smallest wet patch on your panties, and you hoped that Daniel could see it too. “I’d lay you down nice and gentle,” he began, taking down the zipper of his pants. Almost as if he couldn’t control himself, he slipped his hand instantly into his boxers, and his mouth opened a tad as he moaned. “Kiss all over that pretty, supple body of yours. Mmm… Bet you taste like heaven, princess. I’d kiss your tits, suck your nipples until they were nice and hard for me.”

You took a steadying breath and lowered your hand to your panties, and you began to rub yourself through the damp fabric. It was so close to exactly what you wanted, but you wanted to wait until Daniel told you that you were allowed to really touch yourself.

“I would work down your tight little body until I got to your delicious pussy,” Daniel continued. His eyes were closed as he palmed himself quickly, and you watched his pants jump a bit with each movement. The red flush was already staining his pale neck, and it made that heat blossom in your core. “God, I’d spend so long just eating you out. I’d make you cum so many times, princess, all on my face and in my mouth. You won’t even know what to do with yourself. Just laying there, legs spread open for me and only me… Don’t you wanna touch yourself, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you said softly. “I was waiting until you told me I could.”

Daniel moaned a bit and retracted his hand from his pants for long enough to spit into palm before he replaced it and started to properly stroke his cock. “Good fuckin’ girl, waiting for me,” he mumbled. When he was aroused, his accent became thicker, and you often imagined how his hot breath would feel on your neck as he praised you in his mother language. “Touch your clitoris for me, princess, be real loud with it.”

Without waiting for one more second, you shed your skirt and panties, and you fully opened your legs so that Daniel could see your wet pussy as you thumbed at your clit. The contact made your hips jerk and a surprised gasp fell from your mouth, and you wriggled a bit as you played with the sensitive bud. “Daddy,” you whimpered, letting your fingers tickle your clit. “Fuck, feels good…”

“Let me see those tits, baby girl,” Daniel said, and you were quick to do as he requested. You shoved your shirt over your head and threw it across the room with haste, and you did the same with your bra. This was how Daniel liked you: fully naked, exposed fully to him, while he stayed mostly dressed. He had once said that he had fantasized about wearing a suit and having you ride his thigh and stain the leg of the suit, and the thought of that made your head spin. Maybe one day, he had always said; and now, one day suddenly didn’t seem impossible.

“Jesus,” Daniel mumbled, his hand picking up speed in his pants. “So fuckin’ pretty, baby. I can see how wet you are, all wet just for Daddy, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whined, pressing two fingers into yourself. You gasped as they sank in deep into your wet heat, and your chest heaved as you began to fuck yourself quickly. “Daddy, wanna see your cock… Please.”

Daniel quickly obliged you, shoving his pants down his thick thighs and exposing his cock for you. The look of it made you feel lightheaded, flushed red, the uncut head leaking as he fucked his fist quickly. You adjusted your hand to move in time with his, trying your best to imagine that it was his thick cock inside you instead of your stupid fingers, but it was a fruitless effort. You moaned aloud, your mouth hanging open, and you heard Daniel curse in German. “Fuck,” he whispered, hissing in a breath as his other hand came down and began to massage his balls. “Sehr gut, meine liebling, sehr gut… Oh, baby, I’m gonna cum really soon.”

“Quick to the draw today,” you mumbled. Being witty was the furthest thing from your mind, though, and your own free hand came up to wrap around your own throat.

“Only because I’m thinking about finally having you,” Daniel said in a hushed voice. He turned his head a bit to look at his tablet, and the dewy look in his doe eyes made you melt. “God, princess… Even just having you in my arms would be enough.”

“I just wanna kiss you,” you admitted, and Daniel grunted as his hips faltered for a moment. His cock jumped in his fist, and you wiggled a bit, pleased that you had succeeded in finding the exact button to press. Daniel’s Orgasm Button changed every day— something to mention or say that would make him spill within seconds, and talking about just kissing him apparently did the trick. “Not even anything nasty… Just waking up and kissing your lips before I shower… Drinking wine and tasting it on you… Fuck, Daniel, I just wanna hug you.”

As innocent and sweet as it seemed, that was exactly what Daniel needed, and he squeezed his eyes shut as his pink mouth fell open and he came, his cum covering his chest and shirt in thick, white spurts. His chest heaved as he gulped down air, and his big eyes opened, half-lidded, to look back at you. That look of his, the flushed face and neck and heavy eyelids, was your own trigger, and you gave a little squeal as you touched your clit one last time and came. Your back arched against your will and your fingers slipped from your throat, and you moaned as you felt the blood rush back to your head.

“Show me your fingers, baby,” Daniel said, and you withdrew your fingers from your pussy to show him the mess that you had made. His breathing was raspy through the Skype call, but he still smiled at the sight of your slick, cum-coated fingers. “Good girl. God, you’re so good, baby.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. You sat up and grabbed a blanket from off of your bed, and you wrapped it around your shoulders, hiding your body from his view. “You… You still mean what you said, right?”

“What did I say?” Daniel asked as he zipped his slacks back up.

“Th-That you’d fly me out to Berlin,” you said carefully. Maybe he hadn’t meant it, you realized as your face ran cold. Maybe he had only said that to placate you. The thought that perhaps Daniel didn’t reciprocate your feelings made you feel sick to your stomach. “Did you… Mean it?”

Daniel furrowed his eyebrows, and he sat up, moving his tablet back to his lap. “Fuckin’ ‘course I did,” he mumbled. “Baby, if I could have you on a flight here within an hour, I would. I… Fuck, princess, you’re my everything. Were you worried that I didn’t mean it?”

“A little,” you admitted, playing with the edge of your blanket. “I mean… You know. I’m just insecure, it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, princess,” Daniel assured you. “We’re not any different than any other relationship. We’re just a man and woman who love each other. That’s all that matters.”

Now, your body was flushing warm for a different reason. Had he just…? Did he mean to say…? “I love you,” you whispered. Would he say it back?

“I love you too,” Daniel told you. “Ich liebe dich, te quiero, je t’aime, and every other way I can manage to tell you.” He had those big doe eyes of his, the same ones that he had given his love interest in the Wes Anderson film when he had confessed his love and, even though it was roughly 15 years ago now, he looked exactly the same: young and hopeful and wishing for the best. “I’ll have my assistant look at flights and send you a few options, and you just tell me whatever works best for you. Don’t worry about the price or anything; I intend to spoil you rotten while you’re here.”

“Okay,” you said softly. “I… I’ll see you then, Danny.”

“See you then, princess,” Daniel replied, and he gave you a sweet smile, his cheeks all pink and happy, before the call ended.

When you woke up the next morning, you had an email in your inbox from someone named Mattis that listed what seemed to be every flight to Berlin for what seemed to be the next three months (maybe it was just weeks but, Jesus, the list went on forever), and a small note that “Daniel won’t stop talking about you. He’s very excited to see you :)”. You surveyed your options for a few minutes, cross-referencing your school calendar to find the least busy week that you had, and you selected the least expensive flight within that time frame. There was no need for Daniel to spend so much money to get you over there. Hell, you would swim if it meant being there with him.

Finally, the day came. The airport was bustling as you filed off of the plane, and your eyes widened. Up until a few hours ago, you had never even been on an airplane, and now you were in a whole different country, preparing to meet your boyfriend. It felt nice to have a real label on what you and Daniel had, and you couldn’t stop your smile from shining through whenever you thought about how close you were. Just a few minutes. Daniel hadn’t exactly specified how you would get from the airport to his house, and you knew that the options were either a.) he himself picks you up, or b.) Mattis would pick you up. Secretly, you hoped that Mattis would retrieve you, “on behalf of Herr Weltz”, with a sign with your name on it, like in the movies.

You weren’t sure who saw who first. You were scanning the crowd that was waiting in the international terminal, looking for someone that was in any way familiar to you, and finally your eye caught his dark hair. You couldn’t describe the feeling that flooded your body when you finally gazed upon Daniel’s face, right there, just meters from you, and a laugh bubbled out of your throat. “Danny!” you exclaimed, and you moved through the crowd to your smiling boyfriend. He met you halfway and grasped in his strong, tight arms, and he squeezed you extra tightly.

“Oh, meine liebechen,” Daniel mumbled in your ear as he rubbed your back soothingly, and you grabbed at his jacket, wanting him impossibly closer. You could hardly form a thought with how emotional you were, and you took in a heaving gasp as you pressed your cheek into his shoulder. “Oh, there’s my girl. Shit, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

You giggled a bit and tugged your face from him, and your smile grew when you saw that Daniel too was a bit misty-eyed. “Wow,” you mumbled, touching his cheek. His skin was soft, his short beard silky. He smelled like soap and warm spices and that little hint of manly sweat. His chest was warm against yours. Daniel was there. You were finally in his arms.

“What’s wow?” Daniel asked. “Not what you were expecting?”

“No, no!” you said. “Not at all. Just… You’re so handsome.”

Daniel chuckled, rumbling deep in his chest, and he drew you back into a tight hug. Quickly, he squeezed you and picked you up, letting your feet dangle for a moment before he set you back down, and he captured your cheeks in both of his big, warm hands. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he whispered, and he lightly touched his forehead to yours for a moment before he finally kissed you. His mouth was inviting, just like the rest of him, and he tasted so good, skin and coffee and something sweet (maybe gum?). Every physical detail about him made your knees weak, and you pushed your fingers into his mop of brown hair as you kissed him back.

“I love you,” you whispered. “God, I’m so glad I’m yours.”

“And you’re mine for the rest of the week, princess,” Daniel said, smiling at you again as his thumb stroked its way down your cheek. “Do you want lunch before we go home? There’s an amazing little sandwich shop right next to my agency building, Mattis gets me something almost every day—”

“No, I’m alright,” you told him quickly. “Just take me home, Danny.”

Daniel nodded, and he slipped his hand in yours as he led you through the airport that he was intimately familiar with. He was happy, talking and continually smiling at you, and he carried your luggage for you once you retrieved it. You felt a little nervous being seen with him; you felt like everyone was staring at you two. His divorce had yet to hit the news, and while you dreaded the backlash that would inevitably come from it, you knew that it was better for everyone involved. Still, dating a famous actor definitely didn’t do much to help in the anxiety department.

You finally felt like you were able to breathe when you got into a sleek black car that Daniel said was “his”, and he slid in next to you. Quickly, in short, clipped German, he said something to the driver, and he laid his hand on your thigh as the car peeled away. “I’m glad you’re here, princess,” Daniel whispered. He leaned in and kissed your cheek, and you pressed up against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat on your shoulder, and your face went hot.

“Your heart’s beating so fast,” you giggled, and Daniel gave you that award-winning smile.

“It’s ‘cause you’re here,” Daniel told you. He gently stroked your thigh with his hand as he kissed your cheek again, then he buried his nose under your ear and kissed under your jaw. “Mmm… Can’t wait to fuck you, darling.”

“Me too,” you whispered, but, before you could offer any other words, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Quickly withdrawing it, you saw an Instagram notification, telling you that a Daniel Weltz fanpage that you followed had just posted. “Oh, Jesus,” you giggled as Daniel kissed your neck again, and you opened the app to find a picture of you.

Well, you and Daniel. It was taken from across the terminal, obviously a paparazzi shot, capturing the moments where Daniel picked you up and when he kissed you. You could see his blush in the picture, and you took a vain moment to admire just how attractive of a couple you and your man were before going to the caption.

Daniel Spotting! Danny greeted an unknown girl at the Berlin Airport, and kissed her!! Apparently they seemed pretty cozy and like OMG what happened to Clara??

“What’s that?” Daniel asked, looking down at your phone, and his eyebrows furrowed and his forehead wrinkled. “Ah, shit, I didn’t think paparazzi would get me. I can have my lawyers contact whoever the fuck this and make them take it down—”

“I’m okay,” you told him. “I don’t mind it, if you don’t.”

Daniel smiled, a little satisfied grin, and he grasped your hand tightly. “I don’t mind it one bit.”

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Jesus. This collaboration with ic! berlin is going to be the death of me.

📸 BMQ Magazine (2024)

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Night Ties

Summary: You were a very famous hunter monsters, one day you decide to go after a famous vampier, but he was very aware of that and he change all your life.

Paring: Helmut Zemo Vampire x F!Reader Human

Words count: 3595 words

Warnings: +18 explicit, mention of blood, poor written smut, p in v, spanks, unprotected sex, bitting, ropes, bondage, desk sex, a little CNC, bondage. fingering, dominant/submissive.

Author’s note: Holas, I was writting this long ago, but I kinda forget when I get obsses with Ch.ai and all that, but here it is, I might be writting more of Zemo in the future. Please feel free to write me for any mistake I made or any suggestion.

You had begun to make a name for yourself within the small towns that were frightened by all those over-natural beings. It was many of those people that lived dominated by supernatural beings, whether they were werewolves, witches, vampires, etc. However, among the people they were more feared and dominated by vampires and werewolves.

It was for that reason that you began to gain popularity, you were known as part of the good cause dedicated to killing or hunting such beings. Not only were you doing that, but they were very few, not many survived them, and for that very reason it was that very few wanted to take their lives to kill a few of them. The few people who did so had a reason to simply want to get rid of them.

You did it for revenge, your mother had been killed by one of them, all the people you lived in had been attacked by werewolves, but it was not them who killed your mother, you had managed to flee before they saw them. Deep in the woods when they thought the werewolves could no longer find them, they stayed for a moment near a river to grab strength and find safety, yet their mother heard noises in the distance, afraid that something might happen to you, I took her to a small cave near the river, told her to rest there and come out until there was sunlight. With the ingenuity of a child, he was obvious and did what I ask, when the light came out he called his mother without any answer from her, came out of the small cave, I looked for her by the gunmen until he found her pale and lifeless body.

She wasn’t looking to find the killers who killed her mother, because she knew she’d never find him, she knew it wasn’t human, what killed her, she knew it was what killed her, but again she wasn’t looking for her killer to never happen to anyone else. He was aware that he could not kill each of them, but with his perseverance and courage he could perhaps make more people unite and decide to end the dominance of these beings.

You had come to a small town where it was dominated by vampires, especially a special one. You knew how to deal with vampires, you’d learned from your group, they’d taught you their weaknesses especially. You could say that you were a little popular not only among humans but also within these "monsters", they had divided to hunt these vampires, it was expected that the majority lived in mansions or even castles, were arrogant and presumed most of them, but they were also intelligent, manipulative and persuasive.

You had decided to go ahead, you already had experience you did not believe that something could go wrong, so you had made a plan to get into that castle, which was simple, it was not like vampires had bodyguards or anything. They didn’t watch the whole castle, so you looked for a room that nobody had set foot in many years ago.

That’s how you ended up like this now, kneeling, your hands tied on a short chain that was stuck on the floor. You heard a few steps and saw a man dressed elegantly, his hair well-groomed. —What a foolish, hunter— he sneered, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. —I’m surprised you made it this far. You must be very brave or very dumb— You only stare at him as if you look could kill him. —Don't look at me like that, darling. Who are you to judge me? You are the one trespassing on my home. I could kill you right now for your insolence, if I so desired. But I feel... merciful— He say getting closer to him, in your position you have to look up to him, feeling like so insignificant in that position. —I don't know if you are brave or foolish, or just a bit of both— He was now very close to you, you feel his hand touching your cheek —You intrigue me.—

That took you for surprised other vampires they have just taken all your blood of your body and leave you completely drain. —How can I intrigue you? — Your voice sounds almost sarcastic, but there was confusion there. —Oh, little one, you’re so much more than “just a human”— He leans down and run a finger along your face, gently stroking your chin and jawline. —You have hunted my kind… Even I don’t really care about those ones, is really fascinating to see someone like you murdered that kind of vampires— He takes your chin tilting up so you can his eyes, his crimson red eyes, you could not deny that I cause you to send a chill in your spine. —But that doesn’t take the fact you’re very foolish to come to my home and try to kill me… You’re here not just by coincidence, I bring you here you alone… Ever since I found out about your existence, which wasn’t a year ago, I’ve been watching every step you take, every decision you make, piqued my curiosity, my dear… Of course I had to bring you here with me.—You feel his fingers caressing your chin as he doesn’t let you go, the two of them staring. —M-my friends… They know I’ll come here, they’ll get worried and they’ll come here to help me— Your voice trying sound convinced that they will come to rescue you. —Yes, they certainly would come here and try to rescue you… But let me ask you a question... Do you know how many hunters have entered my domain? How many have existed?… Like I told you, you’re here because I want you to be here alone, I know where your friends are, and I know who are with them, I can make your friends get killed right now, but I will not do that yet…—He says in a threatening voice —B-but there are a lot of people that know me… Th-they will get worried… And they know I’m here— You say with a desperation tone —Hmmm... I'm sure there are many that know you, yes. But what will they do about it, hmm? Come to my domain? The place where hunters never return from? I admire your courage, my love, but I do not think your "friends" are going to come rescue you... And talking about your friends, I know you love them because you see a family in them.— Your eyes get worried and surprised —What if we make a deal… You have two options, you can stay here and we both wait for your friends and I killed them one by one, slowly and painfully in front of you… Or you can save them by submitting to me and save them, but you have to behave or there will be punishments for you for your bad behavior… You’ll have to write a letter to your friends saying that you retired from vampire hunting, that you found love and now you’ll dedicate yourself to staying with him and pleasing him in all his spades… Now take your decision, but we don’t have all day, darling so you better hurry up— You couldn’t believe that not only he have trapped you, now you have to submit to him to save your friends, he’s using them to get you, and he’s achieved it. You don’t have any option. You regret coming alone and not waiting for others to accompany you.

He kneels before you, his head moves to your neck as you can feel his breath, he lift a trail of kiss on the side of your neck —Frist I want a little bite, I want to taste your sweet blood— his teeth and fangs brush in your neck, you can feel the sharp of his fangs on your neck, then you feel how his fangs they break through your skin, you bite your lip trying to not make any noise, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of the sound of your pain. He sucks your blood for a few minutes, you start looking dark circles as you feel more weak until you close your eyes and you remain unconscious.

When you wake up, you were laying on the ground, your hands remain tied, you tried to sit down but your body was so weak, you didn´t know how long you were there locked. You don’t have any other option, so you have to access his deal. He comes back after some time. —Did you take your decision?— He looks down at you, looking deep at your eyes, you only could nod —I’ll submit to you— Your eyes look down as you say that, he smiles at your choice, he kneels and take your chin looking at your eyes. —Good girl. I will untie you, I know you’re weak so you can’t attack me, even if you try you only have your hands to try it, darling.— He takes the handcuffs in your wrists, you don’t even try to do anything, he lifts you up in his shoulder, your tired eyes didn’t even look the way he is taking you, until you feel the soft mattress of the bed, after a few minutes you fall asleep.

You couldn’t believe after years of hunting and killing vampires you end up cleaning the castle of a vampire. You were walking in a corridor and open one of the rooms, you look around and see there were black curtains on the wall, that’s when you notice it wasn’t a wall is a window, you open the curtain and you realize it wasn’t evening yet, you calculated around 4 or 5 pm, that means the sun was still up. You haven’t noticed the time until right now, and after Zemo wasn’t around, you could escape you have a few hours before the sun sets.

You didn’t take too much to find a door that leads to the yard, and for your luck it wasn’t locked. You open the door and go out, you see your surroundings and walk through the yard, it didn’t take you long to arrive in the forest that surrounded the castle, you walk with joy to the forest, without noticing there were two deep eyes looking you walk in the forest.

One of Zemo’s butler have notified about your “escape”. —My Lord, the lady has run away to the forest alone, I think she’s trying to escape, but I don’t think she might go too far after the sun sets… I know the forest is very tricky for someone doesn’t know it— Of course Zemo knows the forest like the palm of his hand.

Zemo looks up at the butler with a sharp look. —Very good, I'll take care of it.— He says, as he stands up from his desk. —Thank you for the information.— Once the butler leaves, Zemo smiles slightly to himself. —Run away, have you, my love? So eager for danger, eh?— He thinks for himself looking at the window of his room.

When the sun went down, Zemo went out to look for you soon enough to find you, you were lost and your solution was to climb a tree to the top and see from above, which clearly did not work and only served to stay trapped in one of the branches, you couldn’t get off and you probably stayed there for a few minutes until I found you —Do you know what a stubborn and foolish creature you truly are, my love? — He gets close to you, but he did nothing to help you. —Can you help me please, sir? — You didn’t have any other option but plead for his help. His cold, dark eyes look down at you. —Why should I help you? You were so eager to leave. To run away. To defy me. And yet now, when you are caught, you beg me for help?— You weren’t in a position to act up and try to get the worst out of him —Don't worry dear, I already have an idea of what to do with you…– You watch him walk away, he didn't come back after some minutes, you were scared and cold, you couldn't see anything in the darkness of the night.—

Of course, he leave you in the damn tree for a few hours and then one of his servants brings you back to your room. You wake up in your bed, one of the servants enters after some minutes to your room, he was very nice to you, he serves you food and make sure you weren’t hurt last night. Until he mention that Zemo wanted to see you in his room after you have eaten, your face goes pale you know the reason why he wanted to see you.

You finish your food and get dressed before to go to Zemo’s room, with a soft knock at the door you make your presence noticeable to him, you heard him talk in the inside of the room, you open the door and Zemo look up to you to meet your gaze. –Do you want to see me, sir? – You asked when you enter into the room –Yes come here, darling– You obey and stand closer to him, he stands up from his chair behind the desk –So, darling… You have a bad behaviour last night, and you know the consequences of your bad behaviour– He moves behind you while he talks, you softly nod when he finishes, feeling his hands on your hips caressing slowly you feel your cheeks getting hot, you couldn't help but bite your lip when you feel his lips brushing your neck, leaving light kisses, You bite your lip as he moves closer to that sensitive spot on your neck, his kisses getting more longer as he was close to that sensitive spot, you almost moan when you know he was about to kiss you there but instead he pats your hips lightly and pull away slightly. –This is a punishment, my dear. I know you're enjoying this and maybe you get a little more if you behave after your punishment… Now bend over the desk. – He says in a commanding tone, you didn't hesitate and do it, one of his hands move to tease your legs, his fingers brushing your thighs lifting slowly the hem of your dress, your face now red for the situation, he saw the way you press your thighs together, his fingers move to pull down your panties slowly until the small fabric falls on the floor.

—Such a pretty thing… See how obedient you can be— You bite your lip when his hand starts to caress your ass cheek, in the unexpected moment he slaps your ass a little to hard to make you moan, Zemo smirk when he gets a reaction from you. You heard one of the drawers open, you couldn’t see what is going on, you just wait impatiently. Then you feel his hands covered in the gloves of leather caressing your thighs –Oh darling we gonna have so much fun– he leans closer to you in a soft whisper, his hot breath against your ear, as you feel his grown erection inside your ass —I want you to count this one, I want you to count 20 and then I’ll stop, but if you don't say it loudly and right I’m gonna start again. — He pulls away and his hand caresses your ass cheek with the glove leather then again he slaps your ass, the leather makes your soft skin sting —O-one… — a soft moan come out of your mouth.

The slaps get even harder when the number gets higher, making you more difficult to count right —I didn't hear you right, sweetheart he has to start again… — You were for the 17 slap after start over 3 times, his slaps get harder every time you make him repeat.

After several times, you finally reach to 20, you couldn’t believe how much your ass sting and hurt, you didn't have to look to see how red it was, as you couldn't believe how wet your inner thighs and folds were, you don't want to admit how turn it on you have get when he spanks you. Zemo look at you with satisfaction, he leans closer to you, a soft moan leaves your lips when you feel the rough fabric of leather caressing your inner thighs —Such a good girl… Already so wet for me, that was supposed to be a punishment not for you to enjoy— He chuckled softly, his hands moving to your wet folds, a soft moan leaves your lips as you feel his finger teasing your folds to your clit making slow circles, making you squirm under him, with a warning he push two of his fingers deep inside of you the leather glove makes his finger more thick, he moves his hands in a slow pace, he was enjoying the way you squirm under him, your little whimpers and moans. —You're so responsive— he murmurs, his voice dark and seductive. —I can feel every pulse, every quiver. You belong to me now, don't you? — His voice possessive close to your ear in a whisper —Y-yes, I’m yours… — You whine, you were so close to your orgasm. —That's what I want to hear— he says, pushing another digit inside you. —You're mine and you'll do as I say. — His fingers thrust into you in a faster pace, filling you up completely.

—You’ll cum when I say you can— With that he continues to finger you, his other hand moves closer to your clit, his fingers start rubbing that sensitive nub. Your walls squeezing his fingers as you were trying to not cum in his hand, not until he tells you that you can. You squirm and beg for him to let you come.

—Cum for me, sweetheart… Cum around my fingers. — And you did, you cum around his fingers with a loud cry, he continue milking your organs moving his fingers in and out while he continues rubbing your clit. He stops when you finally finish your orgasm, he withdraw his fingers slowly, a soft whine comes out of your mouth.

You close your eyes for a few seconds trying to get your breath –Don’t fall asleep already, sweetheart… I'm not close to finish with you. – You try to turn to look at him when you feel the tip of his cock on your swollen folds, he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he pushed into you, filling you up with his length. You only could moan loudly and squirm under him. Your tightness around him felt incredible as he began to thrust slowly, taking his time to stretch you out. —So tight and warm for me… — His lips curled into a smile as he felt your pussy clench around his cock. He increased his pace, thrusting harder and faster. The sounds of their bodies slapping together filled the room, punctuated by your moans and gasps of pleasure. You don't want to admit it, but he was making you feel the pleasure you never though you could get. Zemo moves to kiss your neck and shoulders as he continues thrusting in you in a rough pace, his grip on your hips was strong, that's gonna leave you bruises the next day. You cry louder when you feel his fangs break the skin in your shoulder, taking your blood. —So sweet and all mine— he whisper on your ear after take some blood of your body, his hand move to your clit, he moan when he feel your inner walls clenching around his cock, he pick more faster and rougher the pace, you can feel the tip of his cock hitting om your cervix, making you squirm under him, you didn't even think straight in that moment he was fucking you deep and senses that you only moan and whimper, you have lost the count of how many times he had make you cum.

Seeing you all ruin for the pleasure just arouse more Zemo, he grabs your face making you to face him and he takes you in a messy kiss, with a deep thrust his cum inside of you filling you up with his warm seed.

Zemo stays inside of you for a few seconds as he catches his breath, you were laying on his desk, blushing and panting, he pulls out of you, his seed come out of your swollen pussy, dripping on your thighs and floor, your red ass checks just give him the imagination of you that he wants —What a messy girl you are, What you're “fans” will think of you? Their little hunter here on my desk all marked by me, you don't want they find out the truth about you? That you enjoy being my little maid and warm my bed. Don't worry, my love that's not gonna happen, because you're mine and you will stay here by my side—

You try to run away a few more times, but the punishment gets even worse with the time that you start to get used to stay around him, you even start to crave for his touch and his sweet words, you fall in love with him, and now you were tied to him for the rest of your life.

#fanfic #zemo x y/n #baron zemo x reader smut #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #marvel #smut #zemo x you smut #zemo x reader smut #baron zemo #female reader #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl #vampire #vampire zemo #dark!fic #dark!zemo #dark!helmut zemo x reader

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Masterlist

Helmut Zemo:

-One shot

Your eyes betray you - Zemo x F!Reader

Summary: You have a rivalry with Zemo and his team, but you also have mixed feelings with him, in one mission you both finally end up saying what you feel and more.

-One shot

Night ties — Helmut Zemo Vampiere x F!Reader Human.

Summary: You were a very famous hunter monsters, one day you decide to go after a famous vampier, but he was very aware of that and he change all your life.

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DANIEL BRÜHL SMELLING INTIMATES, A GROWING PATTERN COLLECTION:

No Regrets / Nichts Bereuen (2001)

Me and Kaminski (2015)

Burnt (2015)

The Alienist (2018 - 2020)

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why does he do that

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The Apology Dance ™️

bonus:

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DANIEL BRÜHL and Mads Mikkelsen Milan Fashion Week Men’s A/W 2023 (January 16, 2023)

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“Eating is my main hobby now, and most of what I do on the weekend revolves around that.” Happy 45th Birthday, Daniel Brühl!

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“Daniel is able to sit in the pub for an evening with Brad Pitt and Quentin Tarantino and entertain them brilliantly. There’s almost a metaphysical quality he has.” Denis Moschitto

Happy birthday, Daniel! (16/06/1978)

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Loss.

bonus sketch >:3

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“Every night, Dr. Kreizler. Every night, she… touches. The priest say she needs ice bath and leeches. The priest say the devil is in her mind.”

DANIEL BRÜHL as Dr. Laszlo Kreizler THE ALIENIST | S01E02 - ‘A Fruitful Partnership’

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Can you do a fic we’re y/n and zemo are married and have kids and during tfatws zemo take sam and Bucky to we’re his family is instead of the safe house

Here's just a short little tease/blurb for you, but I really like this idea, so a more well developed fit may be on the way in the future for this :)

Oeznik had shown up a couple of hours ago to let you know what was happening. Nina was on your hip with Sofia glued to your side.

“No, this can’t be real…he…he’s coming home?” you whispered softly, unable to believe the news as you communicated with Oeznik in Sokovian.

“Yes, bringing guests with him, he’s kept this place a secret and all of you, so he doesn't think anyone would track him down here."

You felt a few tears sting your eyes. You never thought you’d see Helmut again and yet….he was about to be back in your life and you couldn’t wait. You had been strong all this time and even if it was for the briefest of moments, you couldn't wait to see his face again.

~~

Helmut walked through the door later that evening and Sofia wasted no time running into his arms.

“Papa!!” she cried out happily as he scooped her up and hugged her close.

“Papa?!” Bucky blinked as Sam’s jaw dropped just slightly.

Five year old Nina was still on your hip as you pushed back your tears, not wanting to upset or worry either of your daughters or your husband.

“Papa?” Nina whispered softly. Helmut had been locked away while you were still pregnant with her so all she knew was pictures of him. But you made sure to tell her stories every day so she would know who he was.

“That’s right, little lamb, that’s your Papa,” you smiled.

“Sam, James, meet Sofia, my eldest and that is little Nina in my wife’s arms,” Helmut smiled as Sofia wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting to let go.

“I…what? You had a family this whole time? I thought they were killed…” Bucky frowned as he tried to put it all together.

“Some of them were, James, I did lose my father and our son that day…luckily my wife and my daughter were spared due to a delayed flight,” Helmut said and you felt your heart sink a bit as you remembered the death of your son and father in law. There were still no words to convey how you felt about the death of your child.

You had supported Helmut in all of his choices, knowing what might happened and promising that his memory would always live in on with you and your daughters.

“They are the reason I do everything, and it wasn’t easy, but I’ve managed to keep them safe and hidden. I except you two will not share these details,” Helmut replied as he rubbed Sofia’s back.

“Of course not, I’m not putting women and children at risk,” Sam replied simply and Bucky gave a nod as Sofia gave them a shy wave.

He placed Sofia down, holding her hand in his while he walked over to you and Nina. Nina was a little shy at first, hiding her face against your shoulder.

“I know, little lamb, but it’s Papa, I promise you’re safe,” you assured her and after a few moments, she lifted her head and reached for him. He had never gotten to hold her before and he very gently took her into his arms.

“My little Nina,” he whispered, one hand stroking down her dark curls.

“Papa,” she whispered softly. Sofia wrapped her arms around his waist as he opened one arm for you, letting you snuggle in as well.

“My girls, my girls,” he whispered softly as he held the three of you close, not wanting to let any of you go anytime soon.

[addict-rat]

Daniel Brühl in Der Ganz Große Traum (Lessons of a Dream) (2011)