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headoverhiddles · 2 years

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Gut Für Dich - Part II - Oli x Reader x Schneider [Rammstein]

Daddy kink, dirty talk, rough groupie sex, threesome. By commission for @bloodandglittertastessobitter! HAVE FUN SEEING THE BOYS THIS WEEKEND BABE!!!!!!!!

Your phone buzzes, and you know who it is even before you look down.

Oli Reidel sent a photo.

Unable to keep the stupid grin off your face, you swipe and open whatever he's sent. It's a photo of him with one hand smoothing over his head, out for a run on the beach in Italy, where they're playing right now. You still can't believe you got the number of Rammstein's bassist, but the more you think about it, the more sense it makes-- you did give those two the night of their lives. That changes your smile a little to a dreamier one as you think of the man you're not in as close contact with: Schneider. He pops into your thoughts now and then when you're thinking of that night, and it never fails to light a fire inside you.

But, you're not about to ignore the prime bachelor on the screen in your hands either. Paying special attention to noting Oli's clothes, you see he's got a tight shirt, hoodie, and grey sweatpants on. Fuck. Grey sweatpants.

You're dressed for winter, you tease him back by text.

It's cold by the beach, he writes back almost immediately.

A few seconds later, a snowman emoji comes in. You shake your head, giggling.

Well, I enjoy the view of your [eggplant emoji] in those sweatpants.

You don't get a response this time-- you assume he's blushing, tucking his phone away, and finishing his run. An idea creeps into your mind as you get up and peel your clothes off. You had just come home from work, and it felt good to strip. Wouldn't Oli like to see? It's only fair, if he got to tease you.

You snap a quick photo, making it look like an effortless pose. It exposes your cleavage in your bra (a little more skin than Oli had showed you) but it would be effective. You send it off, biting your lip, and laugh as you get an immediate response back.

Scheiße.

-You like?

Mhm.

-Have some more.

You take another photo of your hair swept back, bra strap falling down your shoulder. To your delight, Oli finally indulges you with a photo back. You nearly moan. He's holding the outline of his cock through those sweatpants, in public.

Have to find a cafe to cool down from the run, he texts.

From the run, you think with a smirk, sure. You wait a few minutes, and get another text from him.

Send another?

This time, you're a little more daring. You send a picture from the side, thumb barely covering your nipple. Five minutes, and you haven't heard anything back. You continue to undress for your shower, figuring he's probably grabbing a shakerato or something and settling in. Then you get a video notification. Eagerly opening it, your breath catches. Oli's got his cock in his hand, stroking slowly. It's filmed from above, so you can see his face as he licks his lips and furtively looks around to make sure no one is watching.

He's still on the beach in the video, and he rocks back and forth from his heels to his toes in the sand. Your pussy clenches as he jerks a little faster, getting a pace going. His eyes close, and that normally stoic face of his screws up a bit. His mouth falls open, and he seems to be mouthing 'bitte' as he tugs his long cock.

Finally, he bites his bottom lip hard and brings the camera down to catch the cum shot, which spills onto his hand and the sand. His deep breathing and groaning suddenly remind you that you're close just from watching the video, and realize you'd started rubbing yourself through your panties. Oli's finger comes up to catch the last few drips of cum, and you feel a short and sweet orgasm wash over you, quickly replaced by a deep yearning to see the bassist again.

You get a picture not long after, interrupting your shock. Oli is looking at the camera over a cup of coffee.

I am at the cafe now. Enjoy?

You type back.

If I could call you right now, you could hear how much I enjoyed.

Ah, yes. The long distance. Expensive.

He sends back a crying face, which you have to laugh at. You take a photo of your fingers slipping down into your panties, and write:

They're drenched, daddy.

Good, he writes back, and you raise your eyebrows. You would have never guessed the quiet man would have such a dirty, dominant side.

All for you.

-I should hope so.

You bite your lip.

Also Schneider.

A pause.

You miss the two of us at once, don't you schatze? Greedy, greedy.

You exhale shakily, and try to steer the conversation back to relatively innocent territory-- you have to save some action for the next time you see the tall bassist.

How is he? You text.

Keeping busy. Out seeing the city, I think. He likes to sightsee with Paul.

Hm. You imagine what Christoph is wearing today. He's got long hair now, and he probably puts it up on hot days. You think about putting your own hair up, then think of the reason for doing it.

I can't wait to taste you, you write back, going straight for the gut punch.

Planning to soon?

-You never know who you'll find in Deutschland ;)

You look over your shoulder, where your plane and concert ticket are to see the boys in Munich next week. You slip your legs beneath you on the bed, sighing coyly. It's going to be hard keeping this one a secret.

There are Rammstein advertisements everywhere. Billboards in Deutsch remind you of the show you're going to, and you understand the language enough to know they're talking about those who you've become particularly acquainted with. It also helps that this is close to their home, (relatively, even though Berlin is much farther north) but even just being in Germany, you can sense the pride and buzzing excitement around the upcoming show. You feed off of these feelings, excited to see them in person again after keeping in touch for so long.

The show is tonight, so you have to get ready. Checking into your hotel, you get into the bathroom and shower, do your makeup, get dressed just how you like, and pull out your phone.

- Where are you?

Oli writes back immediately. Because of this, you know he's bored. Aimlessly playing soccer behind the stadium before the show starts in 4 hours. Why?

-Have a car come pick me up?

His excitement is palpable even through the response you get, and soon, you're in the car sent by the band's security. When you get there, you're issued a complimentary pass by the Theaterkasse, and escorted backstage. Oli grabs you when he sees you, leaning down to bury his face in your shoulder. Leaving a kiss there where no one can see, he pulls back, and introduces you to a few of the roadies wondering what the hell is going on, and who the hell you are.

"A close friend," he introduces you with that stoic smile of his, and you're just fine with that. At this point, the show is getting close to starting.

"Where are the others?" you ask, still a little intimidated being backstage at a huge stadium in a foreign country. Oli cocks his head, and puts you at ease with an arm around your waist.

"Paul went out to greet the Feuerzone, twenty minutes ago. Till is in his trailer with girls, Flake is still getting ready because he leaves everything to the last minute, Richard is on the computer making music, and Schneider is probably tapping away practicing in the artist area."

"Wow," you nod. "Didn't expect such a well estimated answer." Oli cracks a smile.

"We have done this together as brothers and bandmates for a couple of decades now. I think we all know each other's comfortable routines." He looks at the watch on his wrist, comparing it to the giant hanging industrial clock everyone seems to be referencing back here. "I have to go. The cart will be coming, and the others will be coming by car soon to go up on stage." He takes your hands. "I will see you later, yes?"

You smile up at him. "You didn't think I'd come all this way and not put out, did you?" You actually manage to pull a surprised laugh out of the tall man as he bounds away to find his other bandmates.

You get caught up talking to another roadie for a while, the conversation putting you more at ease backstage, until you hear the sound of deep, booming laughter. Turning, you see a golf cart with all 6 of the boys piled onto it. Till is gesturing heartily and shouting in German, and Paul is giggling at whatever he's saying. Ever the perfectionist, Richard is plucking at his guitar strings and making sure the roadies tuned it right, and Flake is bopping his head to imaginary music that only he can hear in his head. That's when the two of you lock eyes.

Schneider looks stunned to see you. His lips part momentarily as he takes you in, before he's ripped away, the cart driving past you. Till gives a little wave, recognizing you, but Christoph can't move. You can only describe that intense gaze he had given you as one blunt, uncouth word that comes to mind: horny.

Though it's hard to do through the distance and front most members of the band on the stage, you make eye contact with Schneider most of the show. Every time he beats that drum, you remember him in the hotel room with you and Oli. Side stage, beer is available by the keg, and you take advantage of it. It's a paradox: the more you drink, the thirstier you become.

Each song plunges you deeper into relative discomfort, constantly rotating your hips as if it would give you some relief. You hadn't been this close to both of them at once since the hottest night of your life, and of course, your body remembers. It's a sexually charged performance tonight no doubt, and they couldn't look more sexy.

Besides the fact that you're itching to feel two pairs of hands all over you, you manage to thoroughly enjoy your favorite band as a whole. A few songs before the end of the show, you feel a hand on your arm. Jolted out of your awe as if it was the first time, you turn to see a security guard waiting for you. He offers his arm to you, and you follow through the dark.

"Oliver will meet you back at the artist zone," the guard informs you, and his stern manner is the direct opposite of the elation you feel. After being shuttled to the zone where the band's trailers are, you're invited in to wait in the grassy area to sit and relax while the boys take their showers in their respective trailers.

"It feels like it has been a long time."

You turn, and find Christoph, dressed in some black slacks without a shirt. He's drying off his chest with a towel still, shoulder length curls soaked. You tear your eyes off of his body and look up into his blue eyes.

"I thought of you," you tell him. A smirk morphs into a chuckle.

"I thought of you too." He runs a hand through his hair. "More than once." Paul walks out of his trailer in a comfortable hoodie and jeans, and looks between you two. Nodding once, he takes a seat on a sofa between you and relaxes back.

"Ahhh. Would anyone like herbal tea and biscuits?"

"Herbal tea?" Christoph laughs. "Have you become so comfortable in your twilight years that you no longer drink?"

"Twilight years?" Paul giggles. "Are you planning to murder me?"

Schneider mutters a "ja, tee danke" and you sit down opposite the two of them. That's when Oli comes out of his own trailer. The sound of Till's private party going on in his own trailer at the end of the zone makes for comfortable background noise as you, Oli and Schneider look at one another. Paul is humming to himself as he busies himself making tea, completely oblivious. Or so you think.

"Hm. I can feel the staring," Paul murmurs, not looking up from his task. "I know I am short, so thankfully, you are staring over me." The three of you barely hear him, Oli slightly adjusting in his seat and shifting his posture. Christoph's breath catches. Your exhale is audible. "Aha," Paul finally speaks, pouring his drink and standing. "Here is the tea, serve yourselves, alles gut, guten nacht. I am going to disappear now. Bye!"

He waves obnoxiously in front of Schneider's face, who finally breaks his stare and bats the arm away in annoyance. A giggle from the little gremlin later, and he's gone back into his trailer to leave you three to your sexual tension. Left alone, Christoph pats both of his thighs, straightening up his back.

"Komm mit. Sit in daddy's lap." Oli watches closely as you get up. Swinging your hips, you climb over the table and give the two men a good view of your ass in shorts as you do, and finally come to sit on Schneider's knee. His left hand comes up to gently stroke up your stomach, cupping your breast from beneath and squeezing. Your head falls back into

"I wanted to do this all show," he whispers in your ear, cutting off into a groan. "I was desperate to feel you, fuck--" He bites his bottom lip, pressing an open kiss to your jaw. "Schatze, I could feel the thrum of the beat down below... when I was seeing you... I... I am..." he takes a deep breath, squeezing your breast again. He's forgetting his English, so you can tell how aroused he is. Oli shifts again, and you notice the heel of his hand digging into his own lap.

"It's okay," you murmur, "You don't have to tell me. Just show me?" You bite your lip. "Please show me how horny I made you, daddy." Schneider bumps you on his knee gently, sliding you back to fit against him. His arms wrap all the way around you this time, and he kisses your cheek in fevered bursts, rocking you down.

"Feel it, little one?"

"Ja," you giggle.

"Such a good girl," Oli says, licking his bottom lip. "I want to see what you've been hiding beneath that shirt."

"You mean these?" you ask, slowly lifting your shirt. Schneider is lost in his own world of touch as you distract Oli with a little strip tease. His eyelids droop as you finally expose all of them, squeezing your full breasts together. Schneider's hands come up to grope them properly, and Oli's chest heaves at the sight.

"Your tits," the bassist nods. "They are amazing. I could see them..." he swallows, his train of thought momentarily derailing, "I could see them bouncing beneath the shirt. I was hoping, when Till asked all the women to lift their shirts..."

"You were hoping I would listen?" you smirk. Schneider growls in your ear, nipping your earlobe.

"No. Till gets enough pussy. You belong to us." Your moan bites through the night air.

"What is going on out there?!" a disgruntled Flake shouts from his corner trailer. "Wie ein gottverdammter Porno! Till fucking in his stupid trailer, you two fucking out here on the couch. Ich kann nicht entkommen!! Scheisse, ficken aus!!"

"I don't think we should do this here," the drummer finally says, following this outburst.

"Nein," Oli breathes out in arousal, rubbing a hand over his head. With a tipsy laugh, you get up, Schneider holding your hand and Oli steadying you from behind. They lead you to one of the large security detail SUVs just outside the zone, and help you in, one on either side of you.

"To my hotel, bitte," Christoph instructs the driver. "More appropriate I think, than the trailer."

"More romantic," Oli nods, "Ja, ja."

"Here you are looking for romance," you tease, laughing, "I'm just out here looking to get fucked." Schneider groans, and grabs something from the minibar. He distributes three small bottles of expensive looking vodka. You all prost, clink your tiny bottles, and down them. This goes straight to your head, just enough to completely clear your inhibitions-- if you possessed any before. Your hands find their laps, and you start to rub one on each side. Oli starts to kiss up your neck, and Christoph puts his hand overtop of yours, guiding you on him.

"Touch daddy's cock," Christoph tells you.

"Little slut," Oli breathes.

"Please, daddy," you moan.

"Which one?" Oli asks.

"I want both of you inside of me."

"Be realistic," Christoph says.

"Why?" you whine.

"We are German, we are realists," he groans, squeezing your hand on his tip.

"Fine. I want you to eat my pussy while Oli's balls deep in me."

"Oh, god," Oli moans.

"You'll get what you want, baby girl," Schneider promises. "I am swearing it."

The driver lets you off in front of a ritzy hotel that you don't pay attention to the name of. You walk in with a man on each arm, heels extending your legs from those tiny denim booty shorts. You can feel eyes on you, but Schneider's jealousy protects all your best features from getting ogled too hard-- he whisks you away into the elevator, Oli slotting himself behind you. You grind back against the taller of the two, Oli's hands coming to rest on your ass as he pulls you back and works you against him.

"What the hell are you waiting for, slut?" Schneider spits. "Get on your knees." You fall down and do as he says, ignoring the pain spreading across your kneecaps. Further scraping them, you inch forward closer to them, and Oli looks at the elevator button.

"We've got 22 floors to go. Hurry up." Hurried but never sloppy, you make use of your remaining motor skills to unzip both at the same time. You dig into Oli's boxers with your right hand, and let out a small gasp when your left hand comes in contact with warm skin. You glance up at Christoph.

"You think I'd wear anything when I know it's going to come off?" he sneers.

"Whatever happened to the art of the tease?" you smile, wiggling your ass a little before you sit back on your feet. He scoffs.

"Forget teasing. Suck my cock." Grinding down, you take him all the way out. Both men are hard in your hands. You make eye contact with Oli as you give him a quick suck, reveling in the feeling of his dick in your mouth again after all this time. You pop off, kitten licking his tip.

"That good, daddy?"

"Daddy likes that," Oli nods, threading his fingers through your hair. "Mm. Less talk. Get back to work." He shoves your mouth back on his cock, and you focus on breathing through your nose as it touches his lower stomach. Christoph grabs your hair and yanks you back over to him, barely giving you time to breathe before jamming his cock down your throat. You try to continue jerking Oli as Schneider works you up and down himself, swearing and grunting.

"Take it," he snaps, "Take it down your throat, yeah? Good little fraulein." He pulls you off to look at you, and your eyes open blearily, lips parted and swollen with a line of saliva connecting you to his wet cock. "Look at her."

"Gorgeous," Oli whispers.

"I want all your cum all over my face," you blurt, dizzy as hell and loving every second, "I wanna be covered in it."

"Stand up," Christoph says, and you realize the elevator has dinged. Looking back in confusion, you find that the elevator has stopped at floor 19. You quickly wobble to your knees, and Schneider is fast enough to tuck himself back in. Oli isn't as fortunate; he resorts to covering his open fly with both hands clasped in front of him as the door opens and an elderly tourist couple get in.

"Excuse me young man," the lady says to Oli. He looks startled that he's being spoken to, but politely meets her eyes-- if not a little desperately.

"Mhmm?"

"Do you know if the restaurant on the top floor is still open?"

Oli stammers for a moment. "I... I think so, ja."

"I told you it was open, Earl," she mutters to her husband, wagging a wrinkled finger in his face, and her husband cups his ear.

"WHAT DID HE SAY, HELEN?!"

"Open! The restaurant is OPEN!" the old woman practically yells.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, YOUNG MAN?" the old man yells at Oli. Oli stares straight ahead with burning red cheeks, wishing the elevator would drop to the ground floor and put him out of his misery. Schneider puts a hand on the man's shoulder, mimics eating, and gives two thumbs up.

"I TOLD YOU IT WAS OPEN, HELEN!" You stifle a snorted laugh.

Finally floor 22 comes up, and the three of you make your exit. Oli's hands are on you immediately, as Schneider tugs you in for a messy kiss.

"Why can't we do that with your friend Bill?" Helen asks as the doors close.

"WHAT?!"

Schneider fumbles with the key card at the door, slapping it against the pad nearly 5 times before it finally lights up green. You burst into the room, unable to tell whose hands are whose. Articles of clothing come off, go flying, pool at your feet. When you're sure everyone has undressed, the three of you somehow find your way to the shower, a huge stand-up tiled space with glass walls. Oli hoists you up against Christoph, where you wrap your legs around him in front. Schneider rests back against the wall behind you, pressing kisses down the back of your neck. Oli reaches down, and you feel his fingers slip inside of you, filling you up.

"Such a wet little bitch," he muses, and gently prods your lips open, sliding his fingers into your mouth. You dutifully suck them clean, and Oli fucks your mouth with his fingers for a couple of minutes before reaching down to position himself. When he pounds in, Schneider groans behind you. His own cock is trapped between your back and his stomach, and by the way he's rutting, you can tell he's dying to get inside you.

"Tell Oli what a nice cock he has," Schneider growls in your ear. "Say it, slut."

"Your cock is so big," you mumble, eyes rolling back. Oli draws back then pounds back in, starting up a pace.

"I'm going to fill you with my cum," Oli heaves. He fucks deeper, and Schneider wraps one hand around your neck from behind, biting into your shoulder. You cry out, pain mixing with pleasure, and he squeezes his hand a little tighter around your throat.

"Take my cum," Oli groans, finally holding still deep inside you. "Take it--" He crashes his lips into yours as you feel warmth fill you. Schneider lets you go, instantly taking Oli's place once he takes himself out of your sloppy hole. You nearly scream as Schneider begins to fuck into you mercilessly from behind you.

"You like it when daddy fucks you?" he rasps.

"Yeah!"

"Say it. Tell daddy how full you feel." You let out a moan, and he picks up his bruising pace even more, skin slapping against skin filling the shower space. Oli licks a stripe down your chest from in front, taking a nipple into his mouth and suckling.

"I think, it is no use. She's too much of a whore," Oli tells Schneider. "Can only think of getting pounded in that pretty cunt."

"Is that true?" Schneider asks, reaching around to grab your chin. "Hm?" He gives you a sharp slap, and grabs your chin again. "Speak."

"I need to cu--u--um," you whine. "Please!" This earns you another slap, though you're not certain it's for a good or bad reason.

"Pretty little girl. Tell all of Germany who's fucking you, hm? Scream it out!" Oli continues playing with your breasts as you get louder on command, suckling the other nipple now.

"I'm going to fill you up even more," Schneider growls. "You'd like that? Fill your cunt so nice and full, so you can feel our pleasure dripping out of you later."

"Yeah," is all you can say, and reach back to grab onto the drummer.

"Finish like a good girl," Oli encourages you. He holds your other hand as Schneider stills inside you, adding to the mess as you grind down and finish hard. When Schneider slips out, the three of you slide down to lay on the tiled shower floor. Thankfully, it's large enough for all of you to fit in your sweaty heap of afterglow. Oli makes a feeble swipe at the nozzle, and manages to turn it on, bringing hot water cascading down over you. You let it wash away the filth of the night, feeling right at home between the two men who know exactly how to make you scream.

The hotel staff had upgraded Schneider to a king room based on the sole fact that he was touring with a famous band, so three people were easily able to fit.

"I miss the days of sleeping on the tour bus," Schneider mentions off-handedly. His arm is around you, and your hand is resting against his slowly rising and falling chest.

"Mm," Oli agrees. His hand is stroking hair out of your face on the other side of the bed.

"Isn't this more comfortable?" you ask softly. A laugh comes from beside you.

"A little suffering is good for you," Schneider says, and you can't help but feel a rogue thrill of arousal from that. Oli pats his chest, and you switch to rest your head on his. Schneider slots his knee between your legs, and you sigh. Perfect sandwich.

"Can you cum one more time?" Christoph asks, starting to rub his knee up. "For us?"

"Of course she can," Oli purrs. "She missed us so much. She could cum again and again for us, on command."

"Show us."

You whimper, dragging yourself back against Schneider's knee. You can feel the wet patch you're leaving behind, but you have a feeling he loves it. Oli's fingers come down, touching until they find your clit. You suck a breath in, and the oversensitivity catches up with you. Your orgasm washes over you like a short, refreshing wave, but Oli doesn't stop. This launches you into one more orgasm, the best you've ever had, until you're shaking and your head is spinning. The smell of sex hangs heavy in the air, but it's pleasant. It's a reminder of the dirty night you'd had, finally reuniting with your favorite germans.

"How was that, meine fraulein?" Schneider asks.

"Gut?" Oli asks.

"I never want tonight to end," you smile in satisfaction, and Oli kisses your forehead.

"As far as we are concerned, it doesn't have to meine liebe."

#rammstein #rammstein fanfiction #christoph schneider #christoph schneider x reader #oliver reidel #oli reidel #oliver reidel x reader #rammstein x reader #rammstein imagine

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madame-fear · 5 months

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theoretically if you do decide to write rammstein x reader might i say that i would request völkerball era christoph schneider?

Of course my love !! 💟 I would be delighted to write for our sweet völkerball Schneider, in fact I was thinking that if I start writing for Rammstein I might write for him first 🤭

#Im so nervous to write for rammstein BUT AT THE SAME TIME I WANT TO DO IT USJDJFKFKG #rammstein x reader #— [. 🫂 ] ; my mutuals <3 #loving my mutuals <3 #my mutuals <3 #ask box #ask box messages #ask box open #✧.* amiraverse

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flowers-and-fichte · 1 year

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Y’all, I have noticed a hole in the Rammstein community: lack of reader-inserts for the boys; namely good fics in that category. I find some on Wattpad, a few on Tumblr, and some on AO3, but I feel like more needs to be added. Just an observation, nothing mandatory in case you feel like I’m coming off that way.

I myself do try to write for existing characters/real people, but I worry that I’m not doing those people justice. Right now, I feel more comfortable posting my own fiction with my own characters, though I do have the occasional OC x Canon ship (in Marvel particularly)

Not saying I won’t post headcanons for my story A Fine Artist (particularly for Werner Künzle) that are reader-inserts, ofc depending on if you like the characters.

Thank you!

Novalis❤️

#rammstein x reader #novalis speaks #novalis writes

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deadghosy · 2 months

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“WHO ARE YOU?”

ADAM X ANGEL! READER

🦆Sorry if it’s long lol, I got inspired by the song to make this ✨

A echoing lullaby goes around the garden of Eden. Waking up a male human who was taking a rather long nap as his eyes open.

Adam, the first man was sitting under a tree sighing as his memory of his first wife leaving him strikes him. He never thought he would be left like that as he oddly felt sad but also felt nothing as he didn’t know how to control his emotions. But then the echoing lullaby broke him out of his train of thought.

He shook his head, thinking it was just nothing. But the echoing of the melody got louder, and louder, and loud in his head to the point it was like a siren calling out for him to follow the voice. He looks up to see a beam of light strike down. Everything rumbles, making the first man fall to his stomach at the powerful shake.

Adam coughed, sitting up as he dusted himself off and stood up fully. He walked through the garden, following the enchanting melody. He closes his eyes, feeling as if the melody swirled around him. Making him him feel like dream as he flutters his eyes.

“What…is that…?” Adam asked himself as he blinked amazed at what is happening. He couldn’t believe it as he is thinking it’s a blessing from god himself.

He finally reached the section of the garden as the beam of light vanishes in a blink before it started to act weird.

The light flickers from behind the tree branches covering the view of what could be behind the cause of this blinding light and melody voice calling out for him. He lets out a breath and lifts up the branch.

He sees a glowing figure, the figure glowed so bright like the stars as the figure’s face was covered by the light that arises from its own body. He had to blink a couple of times to get use to its light.

“Who are you?” He says in a low tone to not scare whatever it is. The figure was in a sitting position, having their knees close to their chest as four pair of wings spout out of their back. Even head wings as a blinding light covers their face, making them faceless at some point. They turned to the man as they stood up, the light getting brighter as a sun in the sky. They seemed to be naked as their breasts/pecs were most noticeable in features from the light that Adam couldn’t bear much long to stare.

“Do not be afraid..”

The voice whispers, but the whisper sounded loud as Adam suddenly passes out by a bright light. He wakes up to see everything practically normal as he touches his eyes to see if anything went on with him. But there was nothing, it was like the figure wasn’t even real to say. It kinda scared Adam before the lull sky rolls in his head calming down any thoughts in the first man’s head as he heard bushes rustling to see a lady. Who he must assumed was his new wife, Eve.

Years pass as that same melody echos in his head every time he thinks about you. Usually when Adam feels pissy, that melody calms him down out of nowhere. When he feels happy, it hums in his head. When he feels sad..which is never really an issue to be sad in heaven, he would hear it softly.

It’s gotten to the point he talked to sera about it, but she didn’t really know either. That made Adam get angered as the lullaby lulls in his head making him calm down. Sera sees Adam relaxed oddly after showing his anger towards her. He found it odd at how he could calm down that instantly. That’s when sera finally realizes what’s going on.

“$!@$&/&” Sera tries to say but she grabs her throat. It was like a barrier got caught in her throat, preventing her from saying the truth.

Adam raised a brow at her, “what? You got imaginary dick in your mouth or somethin'?” He asked as sera has a panicked look trying to explain. But only nothing came out.

“Listen, if you wanna fuck with me. Then fine. Bye bitch.” He said flipping her off as sera just screams in silence gaining weird looks. Adam walks through the streets of heaven pissed off. He knew he wasn’t going crazy as he literally heard it from afar and not in his head most definitely. Lute came by him, “Sir! Sera wanted me to make sure you are alright.” Adam rolled his eyes at the angel solider beside him. “Well, tell her I don’t need to be checked on. I’m the first man for Christ sake! I can handle whatever the fuck is going on with me.” He says before flying off from Lute. She scrunched her face a bit before sighing. She also flies away.

It’s now night time as Adam sighs sitting in his bed. He couldn’t get the soft lullaby out of his head…it sucked for him as he gripped his fist, feeling the sharp nails in grave into his own palms. He lets out a shaky breath as he swore he felt eyes on his back. He turned around to find nothing there. So why did he feel paranoid? He didn’t know why but it sucked mad ass as this is heaven for crying out loud. Why should he even be paranoid. He scoffed at his own thoughts and laid down. Not knowing someone was coming to visit him.

A light shines from his ceiling making Adam squint his closed eyes at the brightness. He slowly opens his eyes to see four pair of wings sprout out gracefully as a hum enters the room. It was like a huge hug around Adam’s bedroom as the figure has their hands in a praying gesture “Do not fear.” The figure says as they slowly flew to Adam who is laying down with a “wtf” face as the light blinds his eyes. Adam sits up seeing the light had dimmed a bit as he stares into the “face” of the person he so longed to see after years. His eyes widen to grab your cheek. He felt that is was real as an echoing hum enters his tears that he heard for so long. He couldn’t believe that it was you as you slowly brought up a hand to touch the side of his face. Adam softly leaned it in, making him feel as if this was back when he first met you. Even if you practically ran away from him, it felt nostalgic to have you by him.

“Hello Adam…” you said with a loud whisper. The whisper sounded soft but harsh as Adam looks at you confused. “Who are you?..” he asked like the first time he did. You seemingly smile behind your “light” mask as you tell him your name. “ I am no one….but you can name me…” Adam scoffs but then starts to think of a name that would fit you. As he stares at you, he notices this time you aren’t naked like how he first met you. You were in a full pure white gown. “How about Y/N? How does that sound?” He asked with a smirk, proud of the name he gave you. You hummed softly with a nod liking the name he gave you.

The whole night you two talked like old friends who had plans to go out. It was exhausting for Adam as he just wanted it sleep, but he felt awake listening to you as you talked in a soft tone that could easily put him to sleep. It was like he could talk to you for hours. Yes he made some harsh remarks and comments like he usually does. But he listened and respected when you talked. It was like you had a leash on him to control on how he acts at least. Suddenly a bell rang from your watch as you stood from his bed. It was time for you to go.

“Goodbye Adam…” Y/N says as their wings sprout, making a circle above their head. Adam’s eyes widen going to grab them to make them stay. But he failed as Y/N made a praying hand gesture, their light getting brighter.

A glowing light blinded Adam as he covers his eyes. As he stopped rubbing his eyes, he looked around his room to not find the glowing figure anymore as he scoffed. But the sight of your appearance made him softly smile. He could still hear the echoing lullaby in his head as he lays down in his bed.

With one mutter of a word, he whispers the name of the figure he made for, “Y/N.”

#SoundCloud #angel!reader #angelic #angelcore #rammstein #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x angel! reader #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin hotel angels #Adam x angel! reader #the first man

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itsagrimm · 1 year

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Niche König headcanons

SFW

He hates going shopping but he loves a good bargain for groceries. You will find him planning a weeks meals, cutting out coupons and doing serious research by flickering through advertisements & flyers at the kitchen table. He is also a hardcore Aldi and Lidl fan.

The only time König has cursed outside a battle situation was when Soap tried to convince him toast is bread in the mess hall.

König knows the rules for Fußball but does not particularly care much about it. However, he does care about how it's called. (It's Fußball so football, Not Soccer!)

At home his go to anti-anxiety-measures are going on hikes and visiting the climbing gym. Also, he owns one of those colourful outdoor raincoats because he got those for the hikes but definitely wears them for any other too many occasions. It tends to look slight off so he looks like a lost tourist with it.

As a kid he went to the library a lot to get new fantasy books. As an adult he does not have the time for that anymore but he still likes fantasy stories. So he listens to audiobooks bc the gear for that fits better into his duffle bag than a bunch of books.

Has opinions about Vienna. If you ask him about it, it will trigger a surprising tirade about the austrian capital and some numbered quartiers. However if someone says something negative about Vienna he will firmly defend Vienna as the bestest of best cities ever.

Contrary to popular believe he does not think too much about his height. He grew up in Austria and surrounded by fairly tall people. Also while he is exceptionally tall, he is not much taller than most people he interacts with on a regular. But he does struggle with his strength and is insecure about the space he takes up in a social sense.

Massiv metal fan. Yes, he had longer hair as a teen for head banging purposes in his bedroom, plastered with posters from his fav bands.

NSFW

König kind of does not know how to use his body outside of the familiar battle movements. It's awkward at the beginning. He is like a deer caught in headlights. And he needs instructions, explanations and feedback for what he does, otherwise he feels kind of lost.

Is not very experienced. Obviously.

Once he does learn how you like it, he draws immense joy and pride from seeing you squirming and moaning. It fills his heart with a calm he rarely experiences. He did this. He made you cum. And he has a hard time enjoying himself and cuming before he took care of you at least once. He also might evolve into a pleasure dom one day.

That man is curious but also shy. Get ready for online shopping a bunch of sex toys to try out.

Speaking of online orders. He needs the extra large condoms without latex, which he orders as well bc he would have a hard time dealing with the cashier at the check out. The poor man does not only have anxiety but also a latex allergy and a huge dick.

The hood stays on.

König gives off bi vibes but is confused by it. It will take him a long time to figure that out.

He is kinky but does not know how to phrase a lot of it or ask for certain things. Watching porn together to show what he likes is one of the ways he tries to articulate his desires without actually saying it.

Absolutely into getting pegged. Absolutely not into giving someone anal. He does not want to hurt his partner.

Likes his partner on top of him. That way he can touch them better and caress their skin. Also really into holding onto their hips. He likes how his hands look like there.

Into getting scratched, bitten and having his hair pulled. After overcoming that surprising realisation he might discover that he very much likes doing that to his partner as well.

Not down for one nightstands. The whole sex and emotions situation is hard for him. So, having one set partner gives him a feeling of stability. And while from the outside that might come off as a bit traditional he is not opposed to opening up the relationship once he worked through his own bisexuality.

#i am having too much fun torturing this man #könig listens to rammstein 'ohne dich' is peak romance for him #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare ii #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig smut

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juvenillia · 6 months

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Rammstein [headcanon for König]

a/n: @actuallyhiswife had a post about a Rammstein song fitting König and as a German metalhead who follows this band for a very long time I’m eager to share some of my culture with you guys. Tbh most of those songs are for a quite possessive and masochistic version of König, but tbh I can see that and I can’t wait to write some stalker!masochist!König inspired fics by those songs. I also attached a spotify link for every song.

tw/cw: suggestive content, mentions of cannibalism, smut, sex, piv, noncon, dubcon, possessiveness , power play, masochism, degradation, toxicity, manipulation, pain and more

If you want to know anything more about the specific songs or anything, just comment or message me.🩶

》 Masterpost 《

Ich tu’ dir weh

This song is about the pleasure of pain mixed with degradation and manipulation. A line translates into: “Your body is already distorted, but it doesn’t matter because everything is permitted that pleases. I’m gonna hurt you.” And, how a person (reader) is obsessed and dependent from another (König) and this person literally doesn’t care about it. Another line translates into: “You’re completely devoted to me; You love me because I don’t love you. You gonna bleed for my salvation.”

Bück’ dich

This song is literally about submission and degradation. One line literally says: “I don’t care about the face, just bend over.”

Pussy

I have to add this one for obvious reasons. It’s just a song about having sex. I don’t think I need to really explain it, but I want to translate one of my favorite lines from that song that would fit König way too good. The line says: “Pretty Misses, do you desire more? Let’s have a blitzkrieg with my meaty rifle.”

Giftig

This song is literally about a toxic and dangerous relationship. A relationship that you can’t cut loose. So you rather destroy yourself with it than leave them. A line for example translates into: “The poison flows slowly into my blood, I start to see white lights and yes, somehow I do like it. There is simply no remedy.”

Link 2 3 4

Originally this song was a statement to deny the accusations of the Band being part of the right scene in Germany. But the marching beat (added as irony back then) is something I just find fitting. A line translates into: “They want my heart on the right spot, but then I look below, it beats left there”

Rein Raus

This song is just about having sex and fitting a very huge dick into a tight cunt. Yeah, I don’t need to explain that further. A line to translate: “You moan, I predict you: An elephant into a bottleneck.”

Mein Teil

This is literal song about cannibalism. (Was inspired by the criminal case by the cannibal of Rothenburg.) Won’t go into any further details because the song speaks for itself. A line to translate: “Today I will meet a gentleman; he likes me so much he could eat me up. Soft parts and even hard ones are on the menu”

Waidmanns Heil

A song that totally holds hunter/prey vibes. It's about the thrill during a hunt. About the ecstasy the hunter feels while chasing his prey, and about the power balance/play. A transalate of the very first lines: "I've been in heat for days, so I'm going to hunt myself a doe and I'll sit there until morning, that I can give it a chest hit."

Du hast

It's, as I believe, one of the most known songs outside of Germany because of the simplicity of its text. But we have a big double meaning here, because "Du has(s)t mich" can be translated into "you have me" or into "you hate me". It explores the detriments of marriage, and the developing separation and resentment drawn from a long-term relationship.

Bonus:

Bismarck by Sabaton – Sorry but I won’t argue about it, he does love that one! So I just needed to put it onto the list. If you don't know Sabaton, they make really cool power metal inspired by actual historical war victories, heroes and soldiers.

#cod mw x reader #könig x reader #könig mw2 #bd/sm masochist #cod x reader #rammstein #cod headcanons #könig headcanons #rammstein songs #konig x reader #dark smut

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hes-the-muse · 5 months

Text

'Immaculate Red'

ONE SHOT | IMMACULATE RED

[till masterlist] | [all muses]

Muse: Till Lindemann x f!reader (first person)

Rating: 18+ , smut Words: 5k Author: @thexhostess (Antonia) For @madhatter2727 credit: divider here by @saradika-graphics. Moodboard by @madhatter2727

Notes: A Till oneshot.

I'd love feedback on this from anyone in the Till fic fandom. Curious to see what you think and how many of you are out there.

Charred scent, black powder. Pomegranate seeds shimmering on the table. A feast for a king. Maybe a queen. The pyrotechnics echo with the charred grey dust as the smell of gunpowder is still floating in the air, occlusive and hot. Too hot and I sit to catch my breath. I close my eyes and rest. Then a weighted hand on my shoulder, gloved, black leather. I open my eyes to see slicked back white hair, black smoked liner, singed and melting around his eyes. He’s tall, a distinct presence.

‘Give me your hand’ he says.

It’s a statement not a question. German accent, thick, rolling. Cutting through the smoke, the strobe and fireworks. He’s taking me out of here. I have no choice. It’s him and me and he is possessive. He pulls me through locked steel doors and slim, dimly lit hallways where th heat gathers. Sparks, but not fireworks flash in front of my eyes. He senses my hand going weak in his, my steps slowing and not being able to catch up with him pulling me through the small building. The edges of my vision reduce every second, closing into the centre. Black with a window into the world. And before it closes, I feel his arm behind my knees and he’s lifting me. Up into his arms, whisking me down the halls and out into the biting Autumn air. I float until the black recedes, my vision restoring to full capacity and the air awakens me. I’m still floating, he hasn’t let me go. He hasn't set me down on the ground. I’m not on my feet.

I see the leaves above, dry and orange, browns and reds floating down one by one, sky clear and crisp, a sharp crispness in my airways. It makes me cough. I can focus enough to see that white hair in view, and then his eyes, full of concern and almost angry. Wide eyed but hard somehow.

‘You’re back, don’t worry you're back. You’re with me now.’ He strokes one side of my face with a black leather glove. He stops, leans in to check my face, asks me, ‘Are you OK?’

‘Yes I think I am? Where are we? What happened? Who?’ I say.

‘You couldn’t be in there anymore. You were going to pass out, I couldn’t have that. I had to take you out.’ As the depth of his German accent sounds around me again, it feels like an impenetrable blanket, strong and soothing. The words flow as I listen and then I think I realise.

‘But Who? Till?’

‘Hi.’ He confirms quietly. ‘Yes, shhh.’ He strokes my hair with that gloved hand.

‘But Till is in there!’ I point towards the building. Then there is no building, no venue anymore.

‘He’s not in there. He left with you.’ He laughs.

‘Sorry, I don’t know where I am, I took a turn back there, I don’t feel so good. Who are you again? Can you take me back, I think I can go back in now, I’ll sit down. I’ll be fine.’

‘Shh, darling, don’t worry I will look after you.’

All I see are the Autumn leaves on the path, hear the heavy footsteps thumping on the earth and his long heavy coat swaying as he walks, carrying me.

He says, ‘Do you want to go back to see the end of the show?’

‘I do.’ I mumble.

‘Who were you there to see?’ he asks.

‘Rammstein, and they have to be finishing the show now, I might still make it, I could, maybe I could go back and meet them.’

‘Who do you want to meet?’ he asks.

‘Till.’ I say. ‘I might still have the chance, it’s their home show, maybe they will be hanging out after, it might not be too late.’ I protest.

‘Darling. The show was cut short.’

‘How do have know?’

‘Well, um, a pretty girl was ill, and everything had to stop.’ He says.

‘What.. no.’

He smiles through soft determined eyes, holding me tight.

‘I hate to tell you, you stopped it, but I’m serious about this, you had to be taken away from there.’

‘But why? I mean, you took me out, same as crowd surfers, they get taken out and the show goes on, don’t take me too far! The show is still going. The show doesn’t get stopped for one person! Who are you?’ I attempt to make sense of this situation.

He stops. Props me up on his shoulder. ‘Darling look at me. Look at me closely.’ He tells me.

I feel almost well enough to stop asking so many questions.

‘I, took you out of the show. And I, stopped the show myself. The show isn’t going ahead right now, because I left with you. To make sure you are alright. They can’t play the show without me.’ His eyes are very intense and he’s gazing onto my eyes.

‘Till? Till!’ I exclaim.

‘Yes,’ he laughs, ‘I’m Till. Don’t worry darling, you won’t miss the show. So tell me, how much do you think of meeting me? I’d love to know.’ He smiles a side smile.

‘I, I’m sorry.’ I say.

‘Why are you sorry?’ he asks quietly.

‘For sounding like an idiot, telling you all that.’

‘Don’t be, don’t be sorry.’ He whispers, his eyes focusing on mine.

‘Why?’ I ask.

He pauses, ‘Because I needed to make sure you are safe.’

‘Why did YOU help me? How could you leave? It’s not your job to..’

‘Oh it is, it is mine and mine alone. I had responsibility to see that your were alright, personally.’ He adds.

‘ I don’t understand.’

‘You’ve been to our shows before right?’

‘Of course.’

He smiles. ‘I know you have and I needed to be serious about this moment. If there’s ever something wrong, I will help.’

‘What do you mean? But we’ve never met.’ I say.

‘We have now.’ He has a curious longing look, a smile on his face.

He smiles and puts me down. My arms slide away from around the raised wool collar of his winter coat. Once my hazy vision and confusion has gone away, I see him now. Till Lindemann. He reaches out a gloved hand towards me, asking if I want to take it and go with him.

He’s careful, quiet. ‘I think I know who you are.’ He searches my eyes.

‘Well Till Lindemann, I hope you can get to know me.’

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s intently searching mine for something. I don’t know what it is. He’s waiting with his arm outstretched. I take his hand.

Over the crunching of the leaves and tapping on the cold ground, I hear the leather of his gloves creak and he turns to me. His voice, clear and deep, gentle, asks me something. He’s asking my name. I tell him. It rolls off his tongue like he already knew.

‘Are you OK with getting something to drink?’ he says.

‘Yes I could use it. Back at the venue?’

‘Take all the time you need. No, the show is already postponed for another night.’

‘But how?’

‘This rarely happens if ever, and it’s a special night.’ He looks over at me.

‘Look Till, I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me, for helping me, I don’t know what I would have done actually if it wasn’t for you, relied on someone else finding me when I had already fainted. I can’t believe you’ve come out here with me like this, and at the expense of your show. I really, appreciate it, but I’m going to have to go, I can't keep you any longer, I can’t have the show cancelled. Can you go back in there, I’m sure if you give them a good enough excuse, a circumstance, and they would be more than happy if you came back, especially now.’

‘Listen, if you’re not comfortable I can understand, but I’m here now. I’m not going back in there, I mean it.’ And then he looks stern, and leans in. ‘The real excuse is that’, and he leans closer still, and he whispers, and I barely hear him, but in my head he is clear and crisp and resonant, ‘the truth is that I’ve waited for you, and I have found you.’

He draws back and with that watchful gentle gaze smiles and knows that I heard him, but it didn’t seem like he spoke at all.

I follow him through woods where the earth is damper and the leaves are layered and decomposing. The scent of dead leaves and warmth of the leather makes me hold on. He has my hand grasped firmly in his. His grip is strong and I know he wouldn’t let me fall. Old keys rattle and he unlocks the log cabin nestled between woodland. He lights a fire in the traditional German stove. He makes us hot black tea. He pours mine with his gloves still on. I take my first sip, he brings me furs, wraps my knees in them. Sets up a seating area atop the stove where there is space to lie down to sleep. At last I see him take off his gloves. His hands are large, massive. The face of his watch seems gigantic and the wrist strap huge. He turns to me as I’m watching him, mesmerised by his hands. The fire dances off his irises, his hair tousled from carrying me, from climbing through the forest. He smooths it back. The kohl on his waterline arresting, gloomy in some ways. I see him with a kitchen knife, wooden handle well used and blade sharp.

‘This is for fruit.’ He cuts into the skin of a pomegranate, slicing it from crown to base, carving thirds into it. He peels back the red and yellow top layers, gets the pomegranate seeds with the knife, collecting them into a Czech crystal glass for me. Immaculate. Sparkling. The ruby red crimson drops onto the edges, covers the knifes blade, covers his fingers. He licks the remainder and he calls me by my name. I freeze. He hands me the crystal with ruby seeds. Gleaming like shimmering gems with the light of the fire.

‘Thank you..I haven’t eaten this fruit in a long time.’

‘Do you like it?’

‘I do.’

We sit in silence. And I notice more about him. His gestures are always gentle. His mannerisms and movements taken with a lot of care. He doesn’t scare me at any point. Even when I saw him with that knife.

‘Are you warm enough?’

‘Yes, it’s very cosy. Is this yours? Your cabin?’

‘Yes it is mine. We, I mean me and the guys sometimes come here to write. Or if I need the privacy. It’s nice to be here. It’s nice for you to be here.’

We stare at the fire. At the embers crackling.

‘Back then, when you said you wanted to get to know me, or, that you think you know who I am, what did have really mean?’

He looks round at me with those solid and contemplative eyes. They look like they want to tell me something he can’t say.

‘I mean that, I think I know you.’

I laugh and try to change the subject.

‘So tell me about your tour, has it been OK, aside from tonight, of course?’ I laugh nervously and clutch the crystal.

‘No really. May I?’ he perches ready to move.

‘Uh huh, yea.’ I say.

He moves closer, almost knee to knee with me. He holds his arms out on his knees, taps his watch face.

‘It’s been a long time since,’ he hesitates and wrings the wrist his watch is settled on.

‘No no, it can’t be a long time, I’m sure, well lots of fans are dying for your time. You know I’m not here for a fling. I don’t do that. I know you helped me tonight, but I can’t.. I can’t be here.’

He looks hurt.

‘I’m sorry I’m not trying to be rude, I don’t want to be, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression of me, and I’m sure you are busy, with the guys and the band and you know, considering I ruined your show. I’m grateful, but please I think I better go.’ I look up at him and set there crystal down.

‘Uh, ok at least let me take you back, I took you here, so let me walk you.’ Till offers.

‘Ok.’ I say quietly, embarrassed how that all came across.

‘He puts on my coat.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean you..’ I begin.

‘It’s OK’ he says. ‘I know how it seems, I’m glad you told me you’re not one of them.’

‘Can I?’ he says and takes my elbow to help me keep my balance.

‘What I do want to know is, when I’ve walked you home, will you be back?’ Tilting his head towards me as we walk he awaits my response.

‘Of course I will. I’m always at the shows.’

‘I know you come to shows, but will you come back to me? ’ he smirks.

I look over and don’t say anything. I want to come back to him, but I don’t know if I should. He lets me leave his side and walk to my door, but I still have not replied. He picks up my arms and kisses the back of my hand. His eyes flash a subtle ruby and I can’t leave when he lets go and backs away from my door. Turning and his coat swirling.

‘No, wait!’ I call out.

He stops. Looks at me over his shoulder. He waits. I wait.

‘Till, don’t go. I want to come back to you.’

He turns fully to face me.

I reach for him, ‘I can’t go, ‘I want to stay with you.’

He unfolds his arms from behind his back, opens his arms and I run to him.

He whispers right in my ear, ‘ I know you.’

Light as air in his arms as he effortlessly walks with me through the forest. The air is whipping through my hair and he talks to me in German, and I understand this time. He talks of things as if we experienced them in the past. As if he found me. And back in the cabin he dresses me in silks and wraps me in furs. Attentive and meticulous. I fall asleep and awaken in his arms. He places me to sleep in the warmest place, and the radiating heat of the stove comforts me through the night.

I awake bleary eyed, forgotten what had happened and disoriented with where I am. I see the wooden beamed ceiling of the cabin and the fur all round me. Then I notice him, sleeping on the floor with only a few cushions. I crawl down to him and bring the blankets, covering him, asking if he’d want to go up into the warmth. He doesn’t wake and I shuffle closer to him, face to face and cover both of us in the furs.

I can’t close my eyes. I want to kiss him.

I fight the urge, stop myself. I only move closer, as close as I can get while he’s asleep and he can’t see me. There’s only a small gap between his face and mine and I can easily close it. But again, I don’t.

‘Till.’ I say quietly to test the waters. ‘Till.’ Nothing happens.

Then his eyes snap open, with a hint of ruby. His eyes are piercing and looking deep into my soul. I can’t look away and I can’t do anything else. Only follow his lead as he leans up close, millimeters from my face, then closes the gap kissing my lips, ever so gently. He comes back again and again, when I respond, kissing him back, then he deepens the kiss, pulling me closer to him.

And then a wave overtook me, of visions of him flashing in my mind. The air was thick with white smoke, gunpowder. Bales of dry hay, strong arms embracing me, his mouth on mine, his hips pressing and pushing. Then commotion and shouting, and those strong arms crashing over me, taking me and covering me from the loud noise, so I wouldn’t startle.

‘You can’t be here!’ they shouted. ‘You can’t take her!’

I nestled into his neck, telling him ‘I’m going with you.’ With the pomegranate ruby juice staining my nightdress, I whisper sweet nothings into his ear as he whisks me away high into the forest, the mountains and the castle. I know him, my King. And he’s hungry for me and I for him. And we spend nights in that castle, in a whirlwind of passion and music as he sings to me. And that voice I’ll never forget. That voice.

And when I open my eyes to look at him lying in front of me, his eyes wide and ruby as he's watching me in my almost trance like state. His eyes are searching and waiting.

And I say ‘ You took me away with you and I’m glad, I know you too. I know you.’ And I touch the side of his face.

‘Now you know what I’ve waited for, darling.’ He says.

There are whispers in the dark and they talk about us, and me on his arm, rumouring the ‘latest’. His fur coat over the top and grabbing attention as only he could attract. The visions flash when I touch his shoulder in that coat. The animal skins wrapping around us, they're all over the heavy wooden floorboards, they cushion us and with the fire crackling and the snow falling outside he presses into me with his weight.

When we sit across from each other and he tells me about touring, travel and exhaustion, I remember how he would come back for me on horseback, well built, commanding. He would take me with him, shielded from the cold, running, galloping through the snow, then strip me down in front of a raging fire built by him with his own overwhelmingly large hands. And how I comforted him back then. I remember the snippets, triggered through touch, as I lean up against him drinking his vodka, nestle into his shoulder after a while of sitting together, ignoring questions and looks from passers by in that German town I first saw that Rammstein show. His favourite places to hang out. With every touch of his arm I remember those strong hands, the arms that would lift me up onto horseback, lift me onto his lap in those ancient woodland cabins, the hands that caressed my bare skin and had their way with me. And I finally have the courage to take his hand, and he’s happy. He’s been waiting. He knows I needed the time.

‘I know you’re here with me now. I know you remember.’ He tells me.

My waterline buckles and streams. Those should not be the words to make me cry, but I shake involuntarily. He takes me in for a hug, wipes my tears away with the back of his hand and looks at me with eyes that I’ve seen but never experienced in this lifetime.

‘Never, never, do this, you never have to cry my darling. I found you now. You’re here now.’ He ends his sentence with a gentle whisper, wiping tears, stroking my face. I sob, move his hand, break away. Stand up and walk out from the table. But a large hand pins my wrist onto the wooden tabletop. He won’t let me go.

His eyes turn harder. ‘Darling…’ he’s warning me. Looking down his nose, down the length of the table and at me. ‘Stay with me darling.’ he drawls in his German accent, slow and intoxicated. I wriggle out of his grip, try to, he won’t let me. And then I have to go, to shield my tears from him, I don’t want him to see more of the tears, I don’t want to explain it’s as painful as the day we were torn apart, and now I remember it all. I need solace, even from him. It’s too much to bear. He leaves his mark on me through the ages, and now, as I look down, my wrist is red, his fingers twisting over the skin.

‘Till let me go! For a minute, just for a minute.’

He lets go and I can slip away as he rises from his seat, staring me down, not letting me leave his sight, but I do, I slip round a corner, press myself against a wall in the hall. Red walls, red and purple neon strobe. The music gets louder, the thoughts are drowned out, almost. Almost gone but lingering, on the edge of my vision, on the periphery of my hearing, echoing through my mind. All mixed up. I can’t focus, I can’t breathe, we’re back here again.

But maybe it’s…maybe I need him to break the struggle. If he..If we..

Then I sense it, the footsteps, the determination, it can only be him, drawing closer, crawling over tables to get to me, shoving people out of the way. There’s nowhere else he needs to be but to get to me, to be with me and he will stop at nothing to get there. The heat exhaustion drains me, only until he can…and I know that now, I needed him all this time.

He’s stomping towards me through the strobe and smoke. Eyes fixed on me and nothing else. I helplessly wait. Hopefully. Wait for him to get to me, to move me from this spot. Tunnel vision. I press my palms against the wall behind my back, flat against the red paint. I only watch him as he stalks towards me. He almost doesn’t blink, I never see him blink, fixed and hungry. I hold my breath, my arms pinned with a grip to my waist, squeezing, he leans into me, his hair falling down over his eyes messy from the pursuit of me.

‘Where do you think you're going?’ Audibly breathing, he’s in low tones, quiet. Restrained speech. Surrounding me in his embrace, in his hands, giant hands that wrap me up. His weight against me and the whispering. He presses flush against me and demands I tell him what I’m doing here. What I’m playing at.

‘Everything you need is here.’ He places my hand on his heart flat. ‘Here.’ he looks me dead in the eye, intimidating. And his eyes narrow as he looks down at me. I gulp and blink up at him, he’s looming tall, large, toned, powerful. Then he slowly moves my hand down his chest, down to his lower stomach to the edge of his belt. ‘And here, this is all you need. Do you think so?’ he asks me.

‘You know it is.’ I’m barely audible.

He pushes my hand lower. He’s mad with hormones.

‘I do need you.’ I tell him.

‘What’s that?’ he asks.

My head falls back against the wall ‘ I need you Till.’

‘There you are, there’s a good girl.’

He pulls me towards him, I away from him, he hesitates, looks me over, checks I’m still with him, sympathetic. ‘’I found you that night, finally saw you, don’t get away from me now, don’t change your mind now.’ he says.

‘I won’t, I can’t, I remember everything, I remember you.’ I pull his arms, my own arms outstretched fully, trying to get him to leave with me. ‘Lets go, lets get out of here.’ I tell him.

Built like a tank I can’t move him. But when I give him the eye, he jolts towards me, unable to resist the sultry eyes, the come hither stare. He follows me staggering back down the hallway into the main room, and we try to leave. But he hesitates, hovers around me, stares, pulls at my clothes pawing me. And it’s the same for me when I can’t resist him. I follow his lead as he draws me closer to the table cornering me there, pinning me to the edge, falling over me, closing in. His lips ghosting over my neck and jaw, over my lips and nipping at my bottom lip. He lunges, leans his body weight on mine, pins me to the table top. There’s no stopping. Too late to turn back. Everything is a blur, and tunnel vision doesn’t do it justice. Anyone that is in this room right now is gone to me. All I have is the surface of the table, and Till’s body weight climbing on top of mine. Wanting, hot, frantic. Messy, as he rips the outer layers of my clothes. Harshly pulls at the buttons of my overcoat, peeling back the layers, lifts my skirt, unpins my garter. Hands. Till’s hands pawing at the plush contours of my upper thighs, sliding to his favourite place. Over the gusset of my underwear, palming over the surface of the lace, the heel of his palm, jutting into my clit. Till pushes up pressing until I squirm and brace my back against the tables’ wooden surface.

‘Till.’ I whisper, out of breath already as he pins me further. His eye meet mine, his forehead presses into mine and he pins me fully, my head falling back. He pauses, then with those wide narrow lips, his soft cupids bow pushes onto my lips, softly as his palm moves between my thighs, then hungrily he nips at my bottom lip, teeth scarping, tongue lapping for access. His fingers move to the edge of the lace, and scrunching his hand into a fist he rips the lace clean off my hip, crawling towards the wetness that he’s created. His fingers gliding and circling. There’s nothing else I can think of.

‘Komm zu mir.’ he briefly speaks into my neck.

‘There’s nothing I want more. Nothing.’ I get the words out sighing. I draw him closer with my knees around him.

There’s commotion, voices, calling out but it feels far away, until Till lifts his head and growls, looking around him. He looks feral, distracted. I hear a smashing of glass, scuttling, more commotion and then Till shouts out something in German across the room.

‘Till come back to me, come back’ I whine.

He looks agitated , flustered and angry. ‘Leave us! He yells in English. Stay or leave but get out of my way!’ His eyes are livid as he looks around from above me, then dipping his head back down to me, they soften, then alight with a lust I’m longing to be directed to me. He breathes heavy and strands of hair fall in his eyes as he continues to look down at me. I pet his face, his arm that props himself up above me. I can’t wrap my hand around his entire arm completely, he’s too broad, too powerful.

‘I need you’ I tell him.

His eyes turn a deep red, the colour of pomegranate flesh. He dives, shoving his tongue into my mouth. I plant kisses on his cupids bow, sucking his lip, lingering on the smokiness of him. And then he crawls his fingers inside and it feels overwhelming. He curls and makes my breathing stop. It feels like he’s fucking me. The proportions of his hands to mine are exaggerated. He whispers in my ear.

‘Not the same as when you touch yourself at night, thinking of me is it?’ He laughs, smirks and slides another finger. I moan out load. He undoes his belt. ‘But I’m even bigger than that, darling.’ Red eyes flash, his hand moves away. His cock pushes up to me, slipping against the wetness. I look into his eyes when I can find his gaze. His expression subtly shifts. Admiring the desperation for him in my eyes.

‘I know you darling.’ He swiftly pushes into me, hard, smooth, fast. Not fast enough. I press my hips up to him.

‘More.’ I breathe, flinging my arms about, looking for something to grab onto. He pins them by my wrists to the table. Fucks into me, deeper and slower. Then speeds up and up and up. I feel dizzy, lost in the moment, nothing else exists. I feel the head of his cock, bottoming out. Our breathing is fast paced. He senses I’m holding back. ‘You’re too good not to scream my love.’ He pushes the tempo, further still. He eliminates any type of movement I can do, freeing me to scream my heart out.

‘Till! Till!! TILL! TILL!! TILL!!!’

When the high has worn off, my vision expands out beyond the immediate. I can now sense the tension in the air. The awkward glances. The patrons keeping back. As Till lifts me, hoisting me up over his shoulder, I see the pieces of glass all over the bar floor, a chair’s back chipped with the throw. But no one confronts him. They look away as we pass through the bar and out. And now in the privacy of his cabin, Till lies me down on the warm bricks. He joins me, snuggling down with me for the night. It’s cozy, warm. We listen to the fire crackling gently, giving off a soft orange glow. Till undresses me completely under the fur throws, then undresses himself. So heated in the cabin that we feel completely at comfort. He draws himself close to me, flush with him, holds me to his chest. We have the fur to snuggle into, but I sink into a blissful ambiance, resting on his wide chest. Caressing my face, my hair, my shoulders, my waist, Till talks to me in German. Lovingly he whispers, gently he tells me of how much he’s longed to find me. Of things he’s been looking to recognise in me again. He doesn’t stop stroking and petting. The German words falling from his lips, sweetly sharing the thoughts he wants to get off his chest with me. I listen and press myself into him, one knee between his legs. Then I feel the weight of them on mine, and I nestle my hand below his hips and rest it there, and he lulls me to sleep in German.

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