Hans Landa and his controversially young gf drabble
“There’s something about you, Liebling. Something far too young… and far too tempting.”
You first meet Hans Landa at a formal military event — the kind filled with stiff uniforms, crystal glasses, and air so thick with pride and protocol it nearly chokes you. You’re seated beside your father, who’s been dragging you to these things since you were old enough to sit up straight. You smile when you’re supposed to, speak when addressed, and stay quiet the rest of the time. You’ve perfected the art of looking present without being present.
Until him.
He’s introduced with the usual rank and title, but you hear none of it — not really. What you notice first is the way he looks at you: calm, calculating, amused. As though he’s already decided something about you. His handshake lingers a second too long, and when he compliments your dress, it doesn’t feel like small talk.
It feels like a warning.
After that, you notice him everywhere. In rooms he has no reason to be in. At events you weren’t expecting him to attend. He speaks to you like you're older than you are — like you’re his equal — and yet somehow makes you feel small when he wants to. It’s a game, and you’re never quite sure if you’re playing or being played.
Still, you lean in.
In public, he is all charm and elegance. He touches you only in ways that seem innocent — a guiding hand at the small of your back, a lingering glance that no one else notices but you feel — like heat. His voice in your ear during dull dinners keeps you just on the edge of laughter or something more dangerous.
Privately, it’s different. His presence fills the room before he speaks. His compliments are slower, darker. You never know if he’s going to kiss you or test you. He’ll ask you questions no one else dares to — about politics, about your father, about what you really believe. He wants to know the parts of you that no one’s ever bothered to see.
And he listens, really listens, like your thoughts are valuable currency. But just when you start to feel smart — maybe even powerful — he tilts his head and reminds you, softly, “You’re very young, mein Schatz.” And it stings, the way sugar can sting if it’s laced with poison.
Your father disapproves, of course. How could he not?
He confronts you with fury and fear all tangled together. Tells you Hans is dangerous. Manipulative. Far too old for you. You want to tell him you know — that you’re not naïve — but the words get tangled in your throat because part of you isn’t so sure. Part of you wants to believe there’s something real beneath all Hans’s charm and cruelty.
You tell Hans about the argument. He only smiles, slow and amused, and says, “Men like your father fear men like me — because I don’t need permission to take what I want.”
You try not to fall, but he makes it so easy.
He brings you rare books, foreign records, letters written in Latin you have to painstakingly translate. Every gift feels like a challenge: Be clever enough for me. Keep up. You do, and you start to love the chase — the constant need to prove yourself.
He praises you when you push back, even when you raise your voice. He cups your face and says, “There’s that fire I adore.” But in the same breath, he’ll pull you close and whisper, “You still have so much to learn.”
You hate how much that excites you.
He reads to you sometimes — old fairy tales laced with darkness and twisted morals. You lie in his arms, half-drowsy, listening as he tells stories about wolves that wear sheep’s clothing and girls who wander too far into the woods.
When you ask why he likes them so much, he answers without hesitation. “Because happy endings are for people who don’t know better.”
You don’t know whether he’s warning you… or preparing you.
And then there are the nights you spend alone, staring at the ceiling, your skin still tingling from his touch. You wonder if you’re being changed — shaped into something you don’t recognize.
Part of you feels powerful. Chosen. Wanted.
The other part wonders if that feeling is just another one of his tricks.
You're smart enough to know he's dangerous. You're still drawn to him.
Maybe that’s what scares you most — not what he might do to you, but what you’ll let him.
[ID: headline reading: "Pregnant Mother in Tennessee Denied Care for Being Unmarried. The 2025 Medical Ethics Defense Act allows physicians to deny care to patients whose lifestyles they disagree with." End ID]
Synopsis: You take Christoph to the International House Of Pancakes to show him what it’s like, and to eat pancakes. He suggests you two spend the time differently.
Notes: Based on Christoph’s episode of Comedians In Cars Getting Coffee :)
Tagging (ask to be added for Christoph!): @bungeewabbit @booklover2929 @mysticaltimemachinewench @fangirlandnerd @agent221b
“Come on, it’ll be fun!”
“This is not my idea of fun,” Christoph murmurs to you in distaste, “Why did we have to come here? Here of all places?”
“Because there’s pancakes, and you’ve never had pancakes,” you say, and make a “two” sign, the hostess smiling and leading you to your booth. Christoph is still grumbling.
“We could have gone literally anywhere else.”
“Hey! Just let it happen, okay?!” you laugh, “You’re going to experience this the right way.”
“And the right way would be…?”
“With your girlfriend.”
“Hm,” he tries to appear stern, but just ends up breaking into a smile.
You order your pancakes, and point at the menu. “You should get that.”
“The… festive stack,” Christoph reads off, staring at the unappetizing mound of colorful sugar. “Thank you, I would rather not.”
“You’re being a party pooper,” you tell him, and he huffs.
“Fine, I’ll make an effort. For you.” You smirk, and he shakes his head. “However, I am going to make a point to take you to the best cafe in Vienna and show you just how Sunday morning brunch should really go.”
“I look forward to it,” you tease, sipping your coffee. He sips his, and takes another look at the menu.
“I’ll get the vanilla spice pancakes. They look the least extravagant.”
“Those are my favorite,” you grin, and you two order those when the server comes back around. A little later after trying to eat some, he sighs, picking at it.
“It is astonishing.”
“Really?” you smile.
“–How they can make something look completely different than what it tastes like.”
“Well fine,” you pout, “If you don’t like the pancakes, maybe there’s a little something else you’d like to eat.” He stares at you dead-on for a second, then chuckles.
“You’re not serious.”
“Very,” you respond, dipping a finger into your whipped cream and giving it a lick. He blinks, blushing slightly.
“What are you doing? Stop doing that.”
“What?” you coo, taking another bite and swirling your tongue around the cream on the fork. He rolls his eyes.
“How are we going to do… that? I refuse to have sex with you in a public washroom, (y/n), especially in an… an IHOP! Is that how you say it, I hop?”
“Yes.”
“Good lord.”
“I have an idea then,” you say, and lick your lips once before looking around, and sliding under the table. Christoph’s eyes widen.
“(y/n)!” he hisses, “What are you…!” He feels your hands at his belt, and looks around. “What are you doing?!”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” you whisper up, “I didn’t get a chance to return the favour this morning from last night… so here we are.”
“In here?!” he continues to hiss.
“Would you prefer I suck your cock on the sidewalk?” you giggle, and he moans, grabbing your hair under the table as your fingers graze him.
“Be quick,” he breathes, and has to close his eyes as you take him out of his pants. Just then, the waitress comes back around.
“How did you enjoy it, sir?” she smiles brightly, and he white knuckles the table as your warm mouth closes around him.
“Excellent! Just magnificent, thank you.”
“I’m so glad,” she smiles, “Can I get you some more coffee?”
“That would be nice,” Christoph manages out, and you laugh, the vibrations sending him panting.
“W-we… we shouldn’t be doing this here…” he whispers, flustered, blushing and out of breath. He’s letting out short gasps, something he does when he’s extremely horny. His hips tilt up as his cock slides deeper into your mouth, and you grin around it, licking along the sides carefully.
The waitress comes back to fill Christoph’s coffee again, and he thanks her, trying to drink it properly. You suck him again, and he nearly chokes, his head rolling back as he lets out a groan.
“(y/n),” he murmurs, tapping your head, “(y/n), I’m going to…”
You let out a slutty moan, grinding down against your leg, and Christoph comes. You swallow it all, licking him clean and tucking him back up. You then slide back up to your seat, proud grin on your face.
“What were you thinking?” he breathes, clutching his chest.
“I was making your morning better,” you laugh.
“Yes, you certainly achieved your objective,” he mutters, pretending to be mad at you. “Give me that.” He reaches over, and steals the last piece of pancake off your plate, stuffing it in his mouth. Then, as the server comes back with the bill, he makes a covert little motion for you to dab for your mouth. You giggle, and use your napkin.
“When we get home,” he whispers in your ear, putting some cash down, “I think I need a little more to satisfy my appetite.”
Christoph Waltz is so underrated. First of all he a precious cinnamon roll that deserves the whole world & loves to hug everyone cause he needs CUDDLES! Also bitch, his acting is on point, like what the fuck, he’s brilliant. Lots of ppl don’t mind him in movies cause he’s the ‘2nd character’, but really he’s the greatest there (my opinion 🤷♀️) . He brings humour with him, watching is more pleasant, everything about him is just unique and phenomenal. Oh, and that thot is hot ass hell. Did ya see that beard? OHOHO Beautiful, fantastic, amazing, gorgeous. My manz deserves the whole fucking universe. I love him so much. Wish I could meet him one day & tell him what a inspiration he is to me, how he makes me smile everyday, how my heart aches every time he comes on screen. I absolutely adore that man.
Synopsis: Your Ibiza vacation heats up a little more than expected.
Notes: A 3.2k word hardcore fantasy of mine, inspired greatly by this hot ass video right here. Lol, enjoy.
Tagging (ask if you wanna be added for my Christoph fics): @bungeewabbit
Your toes dig into the warm sand as you make your way down the beach. The sun is shining, as it has been without fail ever since you got here, and the ocean captures your attention with its turquoise allure. Everything here in the Spanish island of Ibiza is beautiful. The fruit arrangements you get delivered to your room in the morning. The pools. The resort itself, most of all.
You had just graduated university, and had come to Ibiza six days ago as a celebration. At first you had planned a girls trip, but the closer the vacation date got, the more you simply wanted to enjoy yourself free of any of your dumbass friends who might somehow derail that plan.
You sigh in content, carrying your sandals with you as you lay down on a beach chair, slipping on your sunglasses. Clad in a tiny string bikini, you feel your absolute best, and you deserve to. This is really what you need right now… a little unwinding this morning before you hit the bar tonight.
Feeling the heat beat down on your face for about ten minutes, you finally let your sunglasses fall down your nose to survey the beach. The waves are rolling, couples are sauntering along the shore, a group of high school students are listening to music around a cabana. Your eyes continue to scan, until they pause on a man standing by the docks. He has on a pair of khakis and an unbuttoned blue shirt under a navy blazer, with dark aviators on. His hair is silver, and he’s about average height. Already interested, you wait for him to turn around. When he does, it’s a revelation.
“Hello, daddy,” you whisper to yourself, licking your lips. You continue to watch him as he strides away from the dock, making his way to the beach. You stretch out, closing your eyes again to daydream about all the wonderful things he’d know how to do. After about a minute, you feel yourself covered in shade. Ready to tell some frat boy shithead off for gawking, you open your eyes, but are rendered speechless. It’s silver hair, smiling down at you.
“My dear, I was distracted in walking by. You’re enchanting– may I get your name?”
You search for words, almost rendered speechless by his sexy squint. “Yes!” you blush, beginning to smile as well, “I’m, uh, (y/n l/n).” He reaches a hand down to you, holding yours.
“Christoph Waltz.” He’s enigmatic, refined. “I hope to see you around the resort.”
Your smile grows as he winks, slips his aviators back on, and walks away.
You watch him adjust the cuffs of his blazer with a confident gait, a warm feeling spreading through you after just a few sentences exchanged with him. Once again slipping into a fantasy as you settle back into the sun, you smile to yourself. You wonder how much longer he’ll be staying here.
As the sun goes down, Ibiza turns up. The music is loud, and the beat from one of the poolside bars can be heard thumping through the speakers. You tousle your hair a little in front of the mirror in your beach view suite, and make sure you look perfect. Over top of your bikini, you’ve got a busty long sleeve on, and a pair of little shorts that accentuate your legs. Grabbing your phone and your wallet, you head downstairs to get your drink on.
“Hey baby,” a guy with a Heineken muscle shirt on says, grinning, “Wanna join us?”
“Thanks, but I’m heading to the bar,” you say, moving out of the way. He just whistles as you walk away, and you roll your eyes, navigating toward the bar-restaurant, Shady Hades. You sigh to yourself as you regard the line to get in. It’s a mile long. Getting in line, you lean back against the wall.
Synopsis: You take Christoph to the International House Of Pancakes to show him what it’s like, and to eat pancakes. He suggests you two spend the time differently.
Notes: Based on Christoph’s episode of Comedians In Cars Getting Coffee :)
Tagging (ask to be added for Christoph!): @bungeewabbit @booklover2929 @mysticaltimemachinewench @fangirlandnerd @agent221b
“Come on, it’ll be fun!”
“This is not my idea of fun,” Christoph murmurs to you in distaste, “Why did we have to come here? Here of all places?”
“Because there’s pancakes, and you’ve never had pancakes,” you say, and make a “two” sign, the hostess smiling and leading you to your booth. Christoph is still grumbling.
“We could have gone literally anywhere else.”
“Hey! Just let it happen, okay?!” you laugh, “You’re going to experience this the right way.”
“And the right way would be…?”
“With your girlfriend.”
“Hm,” he tries to appear stern, but just ends up breaking into a smile.
You order your pancakes, and point at the menu. “You should get that.”
“The… festive stack,” Christoph reads off, staring at the unappetizing mound of colorful sugar. “Thank you, I would rather not.”
“You’re being a party pooper,” you tell him, and he huffs.
“Fine, I’ll make an effort. For you.” You smirk, and he shakes his head. “However, I am going to make a point to take you to the best cafe in Vienna and show you just how Sunday morning brunch should really go.”
“I look forward to it,” you tease, sipping your coffee. He sips his, and takes another look at the menu.
“I’ll get the vanilla spice pancakes. They look the least extravagant.”
“Those are my favorite,” you grin, and you two order those when the server comes back around. A little later after trying to eat some, he sighs, picking at it.
“It is astonishing.”
“Really?” you smile.
“–How they can make something look completely different than what it tastes like.”
“Well fine,” you pout, “If you don’t like the pancakes, maybe there’s a little something else you’d like to eat.” He stares at you dead-on for a second, then chuckles.
“You’re not serious.”
“Very,” you respond, dipping a finger into your whipped cream and giving it a lick. He blinks, blushing slightly.
“What are you doing? Stop doing that.”
“What?” you coo, taking another bite and swirling your tongue around the cream on the fork. He rolls his eyes.
“How are we going to do… that? I refuse to have sex with you in a public washroom, (y/n), especially in an… an IHOP! Is that how you say it, I hop?”
“Yes.”
“Good lord.”
“I have an idea then,” you say, and lick your lips once before looking around, and sliding under the table. Christoph’s eyes widen.
“(y/n)!” he hisses, “What are you…!” He feels your hands at his belt, and looks around. “What are you doing?!”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” you whisper up, “I didn’t get a chance to return the favour this morning from last night… so here we are.”
“In here?!” he continues to hiss.
“Would you prefer I suck your cock on the sidewalk?” you giggle, and he moans, grabbing your hair under the table as your fingers graze him.
“Be quick,” he breathes, and has to close his eyes as you take him out of his pants. Just then, the waitress comes back around.
“How did you enjoy it, sir?” she smiles brightly, and he white knuckles the table as your warm mouth closes around him.
“Excellent! Just magnificent, thank you.”
“I’m so glad,” she smiles, “Can I get you some more coffee?”
“That would be nice,” Christoph manages out, and you laugh, the vibrations sending him panting.
“W-we… we shouldn’t be doing this here…” he whispers, flustered, blushing and out of breath. He’s letting out short gasps, something he does when he’s extremely horny. His hips tilt up as his cock slides deeper into your mouth, and you grin around it, licking along the sides carefully.
The waitress comes back to fill Christoph’s coffee again, and he thanks her, trying to drink it properly. You suck him again, and he nearly chokes, his head rolling back as he lets out a groan.
“(y/n),” he murmurs, tapping your head, “(y/n), I’m going to…”
You let out a slutty moan, grinding down against your leg, and Christoph comes. You swallow it all, licking him clean and tucking him back up. You then slide back up to your seat, proud grin on your face.
“What were you thinking?” he breathes, clutching his chest.
“I was making your morning better,” you laugh.
“Yes, you certainly achieved your objective,” he mutters, pretending to be mad at you. “Give me that.” He reaches over, and steals the last piece of pancake off your plate, stuffing it in his mouth. Then, as the server comes back with the bill, he makes a covert little motion for you to dab for your mouth. You giggle, and use your napkin.
“When we get home,” he whispers in your ear, putting some cash down, “I think I need a little more to satisfy my appetite.”
Fic request: Like we talked about, riding Hans’ thigh while making out. He uses your hand to pleasure himself 😌
I'm sorry this is a bit short, but I hope you like it!😊💛❤
Come Here.
Colonel Hans Landa (Inglorious Basterds) x f!reader
Warnings: NSFW, smut, thigh riding
Masterlist
Tagging: @daddywaltz @jawline-of-steel
Like my work? Buy me a coffee! 😁
"Cat got your tongue?" The colonel's voice is mocking, one eyebrow lifted as he stares shamelessly at me, a smirk playing at his lips.
"N-no, sir, you've just...caught me off-guard, is all." I hasten to answer him, blinking to hide my embarrassment, my legs inadvertently rubbing together under the intensity of his gaze.
Inevitably, Hans' eyes flick down to acknowledge the movement, triumph creeping into his expression already as he watches me, sitting back in his armchair with a hand on one thigh, the other resting on the armrest. Returning his grey eyes to mine, his lips pull into a strong line and his tone loses the playful edge it had before.
"Undress."
The one word has me moving of my own accord, quickly yanking at my clothes as he eyes my actions, face still stern even as I uncover my bare form for him. He makes no move to remove his own clothing, remaining clad in his unforgiving uniform, not a hair out of place on his immaculate jacket and slacks. The only sign that he's enjoying himself is the very slight gleam in his eyes, which roam torturously over my body as I stand before him, naked.
"Good. Now come here." The colonel beckons me over, waiting until I'm standing just inches away from him before giving me his next instruction, "Sit down."
His finger comes down on his thigh, a clear gesture. I blink, looking at him.
"Sir, are you-" I begin, only to have my own thigh swatted sharply in reprimand.
"Did I say you could speak? Do as you're told." He almost growls, threat very clear in his tone now - I can't tell if it's genuine or if it's a facade, but I don't want to find out.
Hesitantly, I straddle his clothed thigh, biting back a soft gasp as the rough fabric of his slacks rub over my already slick clit.
For a moment, we remain in silence, before he suddenly slaps my thigh again, giving me a disapproving look.
"I am not doing this for your benefit. Make it worth my time." His words instantly remind me of what he's already asked me, my pulse jumping as the words come back to me: "you're always so needy, aren't you? Maybe I should make you cum right here, though I don't think you've done enough to deserve my cock today. Maybe you should come over here and get yourself off on my leg?"
With a stifled groan, I start to move, dragging my rapidly-wetting cunt over his muscular thigh, biting my lip tightly at the stimulation. It's almost uncomfortable, having the fabric rub up against my sensitive spots but I quickly manage to forget that, pleasure starting to creep into me as I move, hips grinding down on his leg. Biting back a moan, I place my hand on his other knee, using the grip for leverage as I start to move a little faster, feeling his slacks getting damper and damper beneath me.
"If you keep muffling those sounds, I'm going to have to find some way of punishing them out of you." Hans suddenly interjects, watching me almost impassively. Almost - I can see a bulge growing in his trousers, aching to be touched.
Apologizing hastily, I moan out loud and whimper as the colonel lifts his thigh unexpectedly, driving the rough fabric directly into my aching clit. Panting out his name and title, I reach up to play with my breasts, my head falling back as pleasure swiftly builds in me, my senses alight now from the stimulation. As I do so, however, I feel a large hand close around my throat, fingers squeezing warningly into my pulse points, silently commanding me to keep my gaze fixed on him. Dropping my head again, I moan loudly at the absolute lust now etched into his stare, wishing he would let me lean in and kiss him to feel how his tongue might ravage my mouth as his cock will at some point in the near future.
Keeping his hand on my throat, Hans uses his other to take my own and move it to his crotch. Both of us gasp at the feeling of his large erection through his slacks, his hand pressing my palm down on him, using me to rub over himself. Moaning, I let him use my hand even as I use his thigh, matching the thrusts of my hips with the movements of his hand, circling my sex over his leg needily, sweat beading on my skin as I start to get closer to finishing. Slick coats my thighs, my clit fast becoming sensitive now from the friction of the cloth, but I can only mewl more at the feeling, utterly absorbed by the way this man is using me to get himself off.
Deftly, the colonel unbuttons his trousers, returning his grip to my hand and thrusting it into his underwear, freeing his cock from its confines as best he can. His flesh is hot and heavy in my hand, weeping over my fingers as he moves my grip up to squeeze his head, drawing a soft sound of appreciation from me. Veins pulse in my grip as he drags my palm over his length, pants and grunts escaping him now. Spurred on by his pleasure, I rock my hips faster, moaning loudly for his benefit, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten as I get closer and closer.
He pulls me in, lips suddenly on mine, rough and insistent as he kisses me hard. Caught off-guard, I can only moan into the kiss, allowing his tongue into my mouth, where he proceeds to thoroughly ravage me, as I'd hoped he'd do, the hand on my throat moving to my hair to yank me closer. Groans and moans are swallowed by both of us, my hips moving faster as he bites down on my lip, sucking it into his mouth without further ado. In my hand, his cock twitches, his need very evident in the way he jerks up to meet each movement.
Hans' breath hitches suddenly, a sharp curse escaping him as his hips buck upwards into my hand, his lips pulling from mine, saliva connecting us.
"Finish yourself, (Y/n). Do it." He growls between pants, the grip on my hair tightening as his hand starts to speed up, making me jerk him off fast and hard.
With one last, forceful push, I drag my cunt over his thigh in just the right way, sensing myself over the edge. Gasping loudly, I squeeze my eyes closed and grind down on his unforgiving thigh erratically, riding out the pleasure as best I can, mewling in ecstasy as I throw my head back. This time, Landa doesn't stop me, only groaning one last time before he, too, cums all over my fist. He jerks himself off a few more times, bucking into my hand as he does so, before stopping to sit back in the chair.
Catching our breaths, we stare at each other, the grip in my hair suddenly pulling me back down to him. Sloppily, Landa kisses me again, tongue sliding lazily into my mouth as he explores to his heart's content, saliva dripping down my chin from the messy gesture, my eyes falling shut again. After a moment, he chuckles lowly, and pulls back, the mocking edge back in his voice.
"You will do anything to cum, won't you Liebling?"
Synopsis: You wait to give Landa a sexy little surprise when he comes home, but realize he’s not alone.
Notes: requested by anon! Not as plot heavy as my other Landa ones, and much shorter, but certainly as smutty! xx Enjoy a tiny taste of our Austrian daddy, it’s been a while.
Herr Colonel Landa’s home is a large one. He has money, and he’s not one to shy away from displaying it. He’s not overly cocky about it– he just takes pleasure in the fact that he’s living comfortably, and by proxy, so are you.
Today, you’ve spent the day straightening up the place, telling your maids they’ve got the day off. You want to welcome the master of the house home properly… as his little French maid waiting for him.
You had met Hans about a year ago at a party in Paris, where you’re from, and it had been an instant attraction. You had been a dancing girl, and dancing girls did not typically start relationships with patrons of the bar, but Hans had been irresistible. He’s so powerful, yet quietly so. So spontaneous, yet so well spoken. The man is a walking contradiction, and you find the mystery deadly attractive.
You wait in your sexy maid outfit on the stairs as the front door opens. You can’t wait to see his reaction– you’re determined to remind Hans just how much he means to you.
“Hermann lernte ziemlich schnell, dass zweite Chancen nicht in meiner Natur liegen–" (Hermann learned quite quickly that second chances are not in my nature, when–) Hans stops as he sees you on the steps, and your eyes widen as you notice there are other men with him. His eyes widen as well, and you try to cover up as the two uniformed men accompanying him chuckle.
"Ah Landa. Es sieht so aus, als warte deine Dame im Warten.” (Ah Landa. It appears your lady in waiting is waiting.)
“Sieht aus, als hätte das Mädchen ein Geschenk für Sie.” (Looks like the maid has a gift for you.) The two officers continue to snicker, and you’re mortified.
“That would be my wife,” Landa says slowly, and the other two men stall their laughter, fear dawning on their faces. Landa just smirks your way. “How beautiful you look, my dear. As it so happens– I am not the only one who thinks so.”
The two other men chuckle again, nervously this time. But Landa just keeps smiling your way. With that same unnerving smile on his face, he straightens his uniform coat. “Gentlemen, would you excuse me for a moment? Please, make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be with you shortly.”
You back away up the stairs as Hans’ dark eyes roam your body. You’ve got tiny lace panties on, and a white and black frilly apron that just barely covers your breasts.
“Hans–” you try to assure him, but he’s not having it. He takes your wrist as if to lead you upstairs, but ultimately decides against it. He can’t wait that long.
Grabbing you by the thighs, he pushes you up against the banister, and parts your legs, moving down between them. After he has them open enough and unhooks your garter belt, you feel his tongue probe your panties, and you sling a leg over his shoulder. He quiets your moans with a pinch to your ass, and mouths along your swollen bud until you’re practically crying.
“Hush, Fraulein,” he snaps up at you, “Any of them could come out and see me defiling you on the stairs, and we don’t want that. Hermann and Stefan have seen enough of you for one day.”
“Yes sir, herr colonel,” you breathe, head tilting back in ecstasy. He inserts a finger into you, and you cry out as he curves it. He continues to assault your G-spot with his fingers and your clit with his tongue, until you let out a moan, coming against his face.
He raises his eyebrows. “Très rapidement, ma cherie.” (Very quickly.)
“Je suis faible pour ce que tu me fais, Hans.” (I’m weak for what you do to me, Hans.) you growl, “Tu sais ça.” (You know this.)
You drop to your knees, urging him down as well, and he lays on the stairs as you move down to undo his pants. You take him out, licking your lips at the sight of his erection. He groans, so you lower your mouth down over him, getting him even harder. You straddle him, lowering down onto his cock, and he grabs your hips, mumbling German curse words as you ride him like that on the stairs.
“You’re right,” you whisper, “They could come out at any time daddy, see me riding you, see you fucking me hard…” You moan, pressing your hand to his chest for leverage. “Fuck me hard, Hans.”
He moans your name, and pushes his hips up, once, twice more as he gasps. “Are you close, my sweet? Mm? My sweet little whore?”
“Yes,” you moan, “Bitte… Bitte Hans, ah…”
“Look at this costume… you knew exactly what it would do to me.”
“Yes!”
You bite your lip as you grind down once more and come hard at the same time as he does. He shakes his head, astonished.
“I suppose there will be no explanation, will there?” You crawl up between his legs, and giggle.
“Juste accueillir mon maître à la maison.” (Just welcoming my master home.)
dude i NEED to know every single headcanons you have about dusan. i absolutely adore that guy he’s so funky and cool.
dusan headcanons, YOU ASKED, and you shall receive
first of all, not that this comes as a surprise, dusan is SUCH a flirt
like he takes after christoph a little bit, if he spots you at one of his parties, he's coming over and kissing your hand and greeting ONLY you with an award winning smile and a gentle "hi there, i'm dusan"
even after you start dating, he's being an endless flirt with you, always playing with you like "you look gorgeous tonight, baby, dress is wonderful" "thanks dusan😊" "but would look better on bedroom floor, hmm?"
he wants you to sit in his lap all the time, he'll grab you by your hips and pull you down to sit in his lap and litter kisses on your shoulder and neck, and his hand is always skating up and down your thighs and threatening to dip up into your dress
if he could fuck you in public, he would
yknow i'll briefly open this can of worms: if he's fucking you in public, he'll have you in his lap and his hand is up your dress, all hidden by the table, and he's got 3 fingers inside you as his thumb plays with your clit, and he'll kiss your neck as you try to stifle your moans but he's an absolute menace and while whisper to you how beautiful you sound and how tight you're clenching his fingers and he'll ask if you need to cum and pinch your clit and deny you a few times until you're quivering in his arms and he has to let you cum
ok this can is open now, let's talk about dusan in bed
i KNOW that dusan fucks
cannot convince me otherwise
he's gonna be grabbing your thighs and ass as he presses you against the wall and kisses you until you're breathless, then carry you to bed, and he would take as much time as he pleased undressing you, and he's praising you the entire time
"oh, baby, you're gorgeous... tits are so pretty, and your little pussy... look at way you squirm for me, you want me? i know you do, baby, be patient and let daddy do what he wants, and i'll fuck you good"
(yes he has a daddy kink deal with it)
but he also has a praise kink SUPER BIG, he loves to be told how good he's doing
"daddy! mm! so good... so big, you're so deep in my cunt... fuck! so good, daddy, fuck, nobody fucks me like you do"
he loves to eat you out but he's super mean about it, he'll finger you and suck on your clit and when you're shaking and throbbing for him, he'll pull away and gently touch your thighs, and he smiles like a devil when you cuss at him and urge him on
sometimes, he'll let you grab his hair and fuck his mouth, but that's only if you've been exceptionally good for him
and like even outside of the bedroom, it's obvious that he fucks All The Time
like i can see paul getting mad with him "you two were awake at three am, banging around upstairs! what were you doing?!"
and dusan laughs and shrugs "was fucking baby girl, what do you want me to do?"
thinking about the scene where dusan was asleep or whatever and paul knocks on his door and he's got this kinda crazed look in his eyes and his hair is matted
(gif cred)
paul asks dusan wtf is wrong with him and dusan is like "paul, make quick, was just balls-deep in baby girl and NEED to get back, you would not believe her, rides me like stallion—" "you. didn't have to tell me. that. dusan" like still hard through his boxers as he stands there
it all stems from his insecurity, he simply can't believe that YOU would want him, so he overshares just to hear himself say everything, and it helps him internalize it all
unfortunately paul is the one stuck hearing it but hey
also yes dusan is WILDLY insecure about just about every facet of his life
before you, he always threw his parties because he was painfully lonely
it's easier to surround himself with strangers and drink and do drugs than to accept that he's older and all alone in the world
there's a brief mention in the movie about his wife and like my personal headcanon is that dusan chose to downsize and his wife didn't, and they were separated and he called her "wife" as force of habit
but then he meets you and like the loneliness problem is solved but then there's a whole slew of other things that come up
naturally, you're younger than him, so he's insecure about a whole lot, he's worried he doesn't fuck you well and he sees himself as something that weighs you down
he wants you to be young and beautiful and uninhibited by him
even if you tell him that you're so happy with him and would never want anyone else, he has a really hard time believing it
that's partly why he's so into talking to you while he fucks you and likes to be praised
he Craves your validation, although he's too proud to admit it
dusan's biggest insecurities come from his looks
obviously, he thinks himself quite handsome (why tf else would he have that HUGE picture of himself on his wall) and he always has, but he starts to notice little things about himself that add to his concerns about his age
he doesn't really like the silver parts of his hair or the little dark age spots on his arms, and is that scar on his face too big? is his chin too crooked?
the biggest issue for him, though, are his hearing aids
i briefly mentioned this in a separate post but, after i learned that christoph irl wears hearing aids, i fully believe that dusan does as well
maybe it's like, he's been partying for so much of his life that it's caused hearing loss, and he has to wear them all the time now
it's partly why he wears his hair so long, to cover his ears and his hearing aids
it ties into his thing about how he worries he's too old for you, like "i'm old man that wears hearing aids and has grey hair and bad back, you deserve someone younger and better"
and you tell him "no, daddy, i want you. if i wanted someone younger, i'd find someone younger, and there's nobody better for me than you"
and it's only after you assure him of all of this and that you actually adore his hearing aids that he starts to push his hair back and consider getting it cut a little shorter than normal
if he DOES, he'll come back from the barber, wringing his hands together "do i look alright?" he's nervous and a little scared and so desperate for validation
"oh, dus! you look so different! good different!🥰" and always touching his shorter hair "oh my, who is this handsome man??" and he's cheesing so hard because it's exactly the reaction he hoped for
but dusan is the type of guy to like when he's annoyed, he'll just turn them down or off altogether
paul is prattling on about something and dusan looks him dead in the face and takes out his hearing aids and sets them on the table in front of him, makes a big show of reaching up like "fuck ALL YALL"
he's not subtle about it
he takes them out at night to sleep (duh) and will wake up in the morning and go about his routine, taking a shower and making coffee and reading the newspaper, and he finally senses that something is Weird, and he goes upstairs and puts his hearing aids in and paul's been banging on his door for A While
"how long you been out here?" "like 10 minutes dusan😐"
after this happens a few times, paul suggests putting in a light that flashes whenever the doorbell goes off
"why would i do, paul?" and dusan is straight faced and serious "i get to you when i get to you, i am busy man"
he also knows sign language, i have decided
he'll talk shit with you through sign, making fun of paul or whatever
oh waking up to him and he's all warm and red and sleepy, and he blinks his sticky eyes a few times and signs "good morning"
oh dusan when he's all baby and cuddly is so special
he likes to lay between your legs and settle his head on your chest, and he's a little worried at first because he doesn't want to crush you, but you soothe his worries
you play with his hair while he naps, and it's so lovely and soft and fluffy, and it puts you to sleep as much it puts him to sleep
100% WILL post another one of these later, but it's 3am and i have a 9am so i gotta sleep lol these are my initial thoughts lmao
The Romance Of A Yellow Rose - Dr. King Schultz x Reader [Smut]
Words: 5.6k
Synopsis: You and King get married, and celebrate your first night together by consummating the marriage.
Commissioned by a friend! Enjoy.
Your eyes open on the rugged planes of the Southern state the three of you had found yourselves in. As you roll over to stretch the sleep out of your body, you find a single yellow rose, native to this area. A smile grows on your face. It’s King’s way of saying good morning to you, as it had been for many months.
For years now, you had been tagging along with Schultz and Django. Having attached yourself to their travels three hot summers ago, the two men had become quite fond of your travelling company; King in particular. Over time, your relationship had evolved from a companionship, through friendship, to having romantic feelings for one another. You were the first to admit to them; King hadn’t wanted to say anything, as he still held a fruitless hope that one day he could return you to the pleasantries of the normal life you once knew, before it had been uprooted. But as the months passed, you getting more and more comfortable and (dare he say) suited to the lifestyle of a bounty hunter, it was becoming apparent that you were going nowhere. Not without him, anyway.
Hildy had decided to stay with some friends in the North while the three of you travelled the country on business. Texas Jack, Turkey Creek and Jack’s wife Camarilla were more than happy to keep her with them. It had put Django at ease at least, knowing they had one less person they had to worry about with them catching a bullet. Hildy was even teaching Camarilla different things she had learned over the years at their home, and the four were getting on fine from what Django took from her letters to him. King wished you had enough sense to stay with them, but where the older bounty hunter went, you went. You had made that quite clear.
Today, a warm day in mid October, you, King and Django were headed to visit a plantation in Conroe, Texas. There an outlaw by the name of Amos “Sly Eye” Little had been posing as an overseer for 3 months, flying under the radar on the small eastern Texan plantation. He wasn’t a particularly dangerous outlaw, only wanted for his habit of skipping out on poker games before paying up. Three months ago, he ended up double crossing the wrong man which led to legal involvement, and now to deter trouble in peaceful towns he was wanted dead or alive by the state. King and Django had discovered upon visiting this plantation that the family who owned it had been dodging the law for a while as well.
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