a.n: hello againnn next few will probs be hcs or shorter ones just cus my mind is kind of all over the place but i hope u still enjoy!!!
~
hans landa☆
let me tell you, you're one lucky person if you're married to hans
you honestly thought he couldn't be any more in love with you than when he first started courting you, but it felt like the honeymoon never ended
from the very first day of being your husband, hans would treat you like a princess - the bare minimum, he would always tell you
you can expect to be on his arm at every military gala, every official dinner, being brought on business trips whenever he could sneak you away with him
hans is also very much a gift giver - every single anniversary, birthday, whatever, you can be sure he'll shower you with lavish gifts - primarily because he loves seeing you wear the jewellery he buys for you
not only because he can, but because he wants to
there's not a single thing you could've wished for;
we're husband and wife now, liebling, what's mine is yours
hans is clearly a man of culture, so you can expect to be going to the opera quite a lot; expect theatre, cinema, gallery openings, exclusive art exhibitions
as his wife you get to move in his circles, meaning mixing with some of the most important people in the country
you might be a little intimidated by this at first, worried that they might see you as an outsider, but hans would be there with you the whole time, his arm wrapped around your waist the entire night
if you weren't a great conversationalist, or you grew tired of the socialising, there's no problem: hans could charm just about anyone, and all you had to do was stand there and look pretty
even if he was working he'd always manage to have one eye on you (he couldn't have admitted it but of course he valued your safety above everyone else's)
->18+ below
married sex with hans would be no different than before - apart from the fact he no longer had to be careful about finishing inside you
expect a long, drawn-out honeymoon - somewhere remote so that he could make as much noise as he wanted
this man is a talker; the whole time he fucks you he's telling you how beautiful you are, how lucky he is
he's kissing every inch of you he can get his hands on, all the while putting your pleasure before his own
he loves calling you his wife in the bedroom, finally a new name to add to his list of terms of endearment
believe you me, hans would want to get started on having kids as soon as possible
he's going to want a football team let me tell you
of course, only if you wanted that too: hans' main priority as your husband is to protect you, and make sure you're comfortable with every decision
even if you weren't ready for children yet, hans would absolutely respect your decision; he knew how to be patient
~
dieter hellstrom☆
dieter is perhaps more of a jealous husband than hans
territorial would be an understatement
you'd thought his possessiveness might've lessened once you'd tied the knot, hoping that he'd be less protective now that it was official
you couldn't have been more wrong
being married to dieter domestically was bliss - he would treat you like a goddess, barely letting you do anything for yourself
you would never have to worry about anything: bills, admin tasks, cleaning the house, cooking (unless you enjoyed it) - he'd make sure they were all taken care of
it was only when you stepped outside of the house would his demeanour change
his arm would be firmly interlocked with your own, and he wouldn't leave you for so much as a second
he could hardly hold a conversation, so much was he preoccupied with making sure no other men on the street were looking at you
even if you happened to bump into an old friend out with her husband, he would be silently fuming the whole interaction - though of course he wouldn't be so rude as to not let you catch up
dieter, though it may sound counterintuitive, did also very much enjoy showing you off; he couldn't have been more proud having you on his arm
for the most part his behaviours were known to his colleagues, so most people knew not to let their attentions linger on you, or would allow their wives to do most of the talking
if someone did happen to look at you for a beat too long, you can be sure you'd be leaving the party early
it may sound a little cloying, but by now you were used to this, and if anything his jealousy only made him more... affectionate
->18+ below
okay now for the good stuff
dieter was very excited to finally be married to you so he can finally have kids
i think he's definitely the kind to wait until marriage to have children, and you just know he's been holding back for so long
his frustration is so pent up that he's itching for the honeymoon, to finally get you alone
needless to say you weren't able to walk very well after the first night
dieter wouldn't let you leave his bed for a few days, clearing his schedule to finally have you all to himself - he makes damn sure that you're pregnant
also, once you do have children, you can be sure it won't abate his desire for you
every opportunity he gets - when the kids are with your parents, when they're sleeping over at a friend's house - he'd be trying to get you pregnant again
this man likes to fuck, and he fucks hard - and for him, there's just something about you being his wife that really gets him going
even when the kids are around, this man is sneaky - he quite literally can't keep his hands off you
if you're stood washing dishes he'll slip behind you and pinch your ass; if you're sitting having dinner, he'll rest his hand just a little too high on your thigh below the table
even when you've been married for years, dieter still looks at you the way he did the first time he saw you
description: when Dieter finds out he is to be stationed in France he decides to propose—unable to tolerate the thought of you not waiting for him. When you refuse he decides to take more drastic measures. p2
warning: ive never written for him and there was supposed to be smut but i got lazy so you just get semi-explicit and dieter being bitchy
The smoke from your cigarette went straight into Dieter’s face.
He pretended to not mind.
“And another thing,” uncle Wilhelm leaned forward now, trapping you both in his breath, “You young people rush weddings these days. No patience. No patience at all.”
Every guest was gone, even the lousy neighbour. Still, Dieter’s uncle lingered—refilling his glass, talking as if the room were full.
Dieter nodded, like it was a reflex he’d been born with. “We tried not to rush.”
“Oh, you did rush,” Wilhelm said cheerfully. “But that’s all right. Most mistakes are made young.”
You twirled your wedding ring, trying to soothe the irritated skin.
Family heirloom. Daisy-shaped, glittering shamefully—too bright, too heavy, too small
Dieter was to be stationed in France. You were fine with it, if you ignored the small gap in your routine.
Dieter wasn’t. Not when it meant leaving you behind.
He had proposed, in his own sterile way—at dinner, after the waiter asked if you wanted tiramisu.
“You should marry me.” Dieter had said.
You laughed and then refused. He only smiled calmly.
Two days later you returned home just to find him with your father in the living room, drinking schnapps. He looked comfortable, at home.
They shook hands. The marriage was set.
Two and a half weeks later you were dressed in your good ecru dress.
His pick. As everything else.
No one got married in three weeks.
You had a friend whose marriage was delayed for almost a year because of the RuSHA.
The paperwork, the racial background investigation—the presents that came along with marrying a Major—all conducted in a matter of days.And so you knew. The groundwork was laid long before you had refused.
“And now a Major. Imagine that.” The uncle smacked his thigh.
You stared at the parquet. The wood wax was drying your throat.
“You see this one,” he pointed his fat finger at Dieter. “He was never one to make demands. If he wanted a second slice of cake, one of his brothers would ask for him.”
“That was a long time ago, uncle.” Dieter shifted on the couch.
Wilhelm’s gaze fell on you. From instinct you forced a smile.
“His mother used to say he was ‘particular’. I used to think you’d always need someone to speak up on your behalf.”
You uncrossed your legs and then crossed them to the other side.
Dieter shot you a warning glance.
“Funny thing, authority,” the uncle went on. “Put the right title on a man, and suddenly people hear him perfectly well. Don’t need intermediaries anymore. Don’t need to ask twice.” He nodded, satisfied with the thought.
“And your little Frau?”
You put out your cigarette on the ashtray with force.
“A shame you’ll have to leave so soon. But it’s alright,” the uncle said, smoothing his trousers as if he might stand, then didn’t. “You’ll find dear, that a house like this keeps you busy.”
“It does take looking after.”
Dieter put your cigarette case in his pocket before you could take it.
The metal case clicked shut.
“Oh, constantly,” Wilhelm said. “Meals don’t plan themselves. Rooms don’t stay straight. People notice those things.” He looked at you, kindly, as if offering a tip.
An insult was at the tip of your tongue. You made a fist, nails digging into the skin.
“It’s — as my Frau likes to call it—the burden and honour of being the lady of the house.”
Dieter took your hand into his. The uncle smiled in secret approval.
“I remember your mother, Dieter. Oh, Irma knew how to keep the house in order.”
“I like things in order,” Dieter squeezed your hand. “It makes life easier.”
Wilhelm shook his head, gaze fixed on you.
“But don’t worry. Once you’re here most days, it comes naturally.”
You turned at Dieter. “Most days?”
There was a pause. Somewhere in the house, a door closed.
“You’ll find your rhythm,” his hand was heavy on yours. “Mornings go quickly. Afternoons slower. Then suddenly it’s evening.”
Wilhelm smiled, pleased, as if nothing of importance had been said. “That’s how it happens.”
Your eyes bore into Dieter.
He reached for his cup, found it empty, and set it back with a small, precise motion.
“It's not a burden if you settle into it. Mother did.” He offered. “Routine can be… reassuring.”
“For whom?”
“For everyone, I think.”
Wilhelm leaned back, satisfied. “You see? He understands.”
“And my job?”
Dieter finally looked at you.
“I don’t think uncle Wilhelm came all the way here to hear about—”
Your nails dug into your palm.
“It is late, uncle.” You said.
“Yes, yes I know. Parties end early.” He let out a sigh before draining his glass“Your mother would’ve stayed. She hated leaving things unfinished.”
He looked between you two before standing. In union you stood with him.
“Well, you've done well for yourself. Both of you have.
No sense dragging things out once the course is clear.” He lingered a moment longer, as if expecting agreement, then reached for his hat.
"Guten nacht."
He kissed your hand. His lips were chapped and wet at the same time.
“Goodnight. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“Let us walk you outside—“
Dieter’s hand pressed on the small of your back, guiding you toward the door.
You stood still—stiff like a statue.
“Oh don’t worry. I’m old but I remember where the door is!” He chuckled
“Make us proud in France, Dieter.”
Wilhelm patted Dieter on the back, making your husband’s polite smile falter a little. You relished that moment.
The uncle left and the whole apartment was swallowed in silence.
“I thought he’d never leave.”
Dieter let out a sigh.
You looked out the window. Berlin’s streets were empty by now.
Dieter paused for a second.
“Once he drank so much he spent the night on the couch.”
The ring shone brightly on your swollen finger.
“You’re tired.” He said it almost kindly.
You glared at him over your shoulder.
“Indeed.”
“You smoked quite a lot too. Frau Kübler said so.”
“Really?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised she could see anything underneath that atrocious hat.”
“You didn’t have to tell her that ‘Italian’ doesn’t mean kitsch.”
You hummed, pleased with yourself.
You twisted and tugged the ring, hoping it would slip over the knuckle.
“It doesn’t fit?”
He stepped closer and took your hand into his.
There was an odd gentleness. “I was certain it would.”
“A slip-up?” You asked. “ How did you allow it?”
He examined the ring as if he hadn’t heard.
“I really like it on your finger. Don’t take it off.”
You pulled your hand away.
“It’s stuck and it hurts.”
He opened his mouth to say something.
“Soap might help.” You cut him off.
He didn’t follow you. He didn’t have to.
You heard the clink of ice in his glass as you walked away.
You went to the bedroom.
Long after you were out of your wedding dress, Dieter still hadn’t come. You wondered if he was feeling guilty, if he was ashamed of being alone with you.
But you knew how men like him were.
In front of the mirror your reflection sickened you. Silk negligee, long and pale pink— meant to show purity.
Dieter walked in with a drink in hand. He didn’t glance at you once.
Somehow that felt better than if he had.
“I trust you enjoyed yourself today?”
You didn’t answer. It wasn’t a question but a statement like the one he made in his reports.
With quiet precision you took the pins out of your hair.
It felt oddly domestic.
“I only mean to ensure you’re taken care of before I leave,” he said.
With one hand he undid his tie. The movement was mechanical and smooth.
“I presume you understand that.”
Your hand stilled.
“I do.”
His reflection tried to suppress a smile. He stepped closer, unable to resist the indulgence.
“I knew you would.” He hovered behind you. The scent of something bitter and wooden flooded your senses.
You had almost missed that.
His gaze fell on your robe. Examining, not touching.
“This is for your own good, you know,” he murmured.
“It’s not distrust.”
It was.
“War just doesn’t favour loyalty.”
His chest was against your back, firm and unmovable.
Your body caved in.
“I didn’t know we had promised each other loyalty.”
He didn’t bother answering.
“I didn’t know you even wanted my loyalty.”
“I changed my mind.” He spoke the words as if they weighed nothing.
His hand slid smoothly down the satin fabric— from your ribcage to your waist. There was a slight frown on his face, a quiet determination.
He had touched you countless times before yet this time was different. Tonight was something worth remembering.
“Will you take this off for me?” His voice dripped with mock politeness. His hand tugged gently at the fabric. “There is no need to hide yourself from me.”
“I’m not hiding.”
He tolerated your lie the way one tolerates a child’s caprice.
The robe draped on the floor with no protest.The cold was piercing like needles.
He shunted it aside with his foot, then wrapped his hand around your waist like a viper.
You felt his lips on the nape of your neck, where he knew you liked it.
You shivered, body reacting before the mind could.
“Dieter—”
A kiss on your shoulder hushed you.
He pressed his cheek against your face, nose nuzzling your hair, smelling—consuming you whole.
“Don't fight me.”
It was spoken kindly.
His breath was warm on your skin.
His gaze met yours through the mirror.
“Don’t fight me— not now or ever.”
The strap of your nightdress fell off your shoulder. For a second you thought he’d pull it up, allow you the slightest dignity.
He cupped your breast, his palm spread flat against your sternum, intruding under the slippery fabric.
“Selbst hundert französische Huren können mit dir nicht mithalten.”
He murmured against your skin.
He bit down on your neck. Your lips parted a moan threatening to betray you. He squeezed your breast to get the sound out of you.
You refused.
“Don’t-“
He pressed you closer— not to harm but to remind.
You stood still, eyes never leaving his reflection. Your jaw tightened.
“Don’t.” His lips brushed against your skin. His hand left your breast and he pushed off your nightgown altogether.
A whimper. Your chest heaved up and down with each ragged breath.
His body was warm against you. Never inviting but always familiar.
“This will be good to you.”
You closed your eyes too tired to pretend you were stronger.
warning: 18+, smut, p in v, teasing, choking, hair pulling, biting, age gap, power imbalance (dom/sub undertones), fluff, comfort, alcohol consumption, smoking, no use of Y/N
Summary: Even a quiet evening could get boring sometimes, at least that’s how his wife felt, as she couldn’t settle down, unlike her husband. The longer she watched Dieter sitting by the fireplace, reading a book with a cigarette between his lips, the clearer it became to her that she could spice up this tranquility with a little fun. Knowing full well how her beloved husband could become when his peace is disturbed - that’s when you wake the devil.
Word count: 3560
Disclaimer: This is not meant to glorify anything; it is a work of fiction based on Tarantino’s freaky film.
It wasn’t often that the bustling capital seemed so quiet; from the window on the upper floor, one had a good view of Paris.
The illuminated Eiffel Tower in the distance was surrounded by countless houses, apartment buildings, and neighborhoods, each casting its own light.
People were still out on the streets, celebrating, simply spending the evening more lively than they would in their own apartment.
A sigh escaped her lips involuntarily as she turned away from the view; there was no point in lamenting missed opportunities.
Being out there alone was no fun; the few people she knew were all her husband’s colleagues, and she didn’t understand the language of the few neighbors she had and vice versa.
She glanced again at the fireplace across from her, and her husband was still sitting there, motionless for over an hour.
Truly a hermit if he wanted to be she thought to herself, sipping the glass of wine she’d poured for herself after coming home with him when she realized that for Dieter, the evening was over.
Work had been exhausting for him, whereas her administrative tasks, well, didn’t require much energy, and after she overheard her colleagues talking about wanting to grab a drink at a club after work.
She had intercepted her husband to offer him the chance to go out and celebrate a bit.
Well, the only response he had was a curse under his breath and a promise to make up for it next time.
“You really do appreciate your peace and quiet” she murmured as she slowly made her way over to her husband; her blue-green eyes never left the page of the book, and he seemed barely to take notice of her words.
She sat down in the armchair, the warmth of the fire feeling pleasant as it washed over Dieter; she briefly took the cigarette between her fingers, exhaled the smoke, and tapped the ash lightly into the ashtray.
“You know there’s nothing better than a book, a beer and a cigarette, my dear” he reminded her, well aware that he liked to spend his evenings that way when they weren’t going out.
Normally she wouldn’t have minded; she’d pick up a book herself and enjoy a cigarette now and then...but today...just the fact that she wasn’t out having fun at the club and had stayed here.
Something was missing.
Taking another sip of her wine, she leaned back in her armchair, her gaze drifting from the flickering flames to her husband.
Nothing but peace and serenity in his expression, content with his book and beer and the tranquillity one had when staying at home.
His eyes, a lovely blue - a sky full of clouds with a hint of forest green - gave his soul a certain darkness.
A gaze that had always met hers with love; yet she had seen him differently too.
She had seen how punishing, how reproachful he could be towards everything and everyone that didn’t go as he wanted…a look that had always filled her with a thrilling fear.
Not fear of him, no, but of seeing how he would treat her if he lost his composure.
When emotions clouded his mind, what would become of her usually so composed beloved Hellstrom?
A silent smile touched her lips as she continued to look at him; even in that simple white shirt, he still looked stately.
How imposing he could be once he was in his black leather uniform, giving his all at the barracks - the memory of seeing him for the first time in his new post after his promotion, my God, how fast her heart had been beating.
Not only when she had accompanied him, but also that evening with the expensive champagne, the room paid for by the military - yet the night was unforgettable, as she had rewarded him in her own way.
A moan, a sigh as her fingers ran over the golden ring; a warmth welled up inside her, a mixture of alcohol and a desire slowly taking hold the longer she gazed at her husband.
To see how he held the book, gently commanding, rough fingers, cold and warm, sometimes encased in leather, sometimes bare; Dieter always had a hand on her side when they were together, gently, proudly drawing her close.
Those times they slept together, truly gave themselves to one another, it wasn’t just to relieve stress or because it was convenient – no.
She had always wondered how far he would truly go, how firmly he would take hold of her, whether the façade of the cool yet distinguished gentleman would eventually crumble with her too, and he would assert himself over her.
Simply take her.
Hands that usually held her so gently – how firmly would he be able to grab her, holding her back, not letting her go until she could no longer resist.
Would you leave marks? Pretty, colourful ones she wondered, a giggle escaping her as she imagined him grabbing her hips, perhaps even pulling her arm back around her.
Subconsciously, she pressed her thighs together slightly, a yielding, a surrender to her arousal.
As her eyes darted up from his hands to his eyes, Dieter seemed almost irritated by her sound.
“What’s so funny?” he asked curtly, more briefly than necessary, the first sign that he was growing impatient, distracted.
Not letting on, she took another sip of wine and gave him a smile.
“Nothing, my love, just a few idle thoughts. Read on” she replied, and his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary before he continued reading.
But how could she have stopped now?
His fingers found their way back to the book and the pages, holding the bound leather, whilst with the other hand he brought the cigarette back to his lips; he seemed too focused as he took a sip of his own drink.
She, however, saw exactly how the older one lightly licked his lips; the alcohol was on his tongue...she knew exactly what else he enjoyed, what her beloved indulged in all too gladly.
Turning her attention back to her own business, she made the whole thing a little more tantalising.
Emptying her wine glass and placing it on the small side table, she leaned forward slightly and began to undo the small buckles on her high-heeled shoes.
Even though she’d only been out in the black patent leather for a few hours, she sighed with relief once she was free of them.
She didn’t need to look beside her to see his gaze, a brief glance confirming what she was doing before Dieter returned his attention to the words in his book.
“A long day, it’s good that we’re home, together” she murmured, her hand drifting to the hem of her dress, shamelessly pushing the fabric further and further up, slowly and casually as if she hadn’t noticed.
Her thigh was exposed, and the small silver suspenders holding her knee-highs were visible in the firelight.
“Was tust du da?” his question cut through the crackling of the fire, commanding and yet so flustered that he forgot his English.
She almost had him.
His gaze never strayed from her bare skin; no matter how gentle he tried to be, she could see it in his eyes—a mixture of desire and impatience. Never before had he smoked his cigarette so quickly or taken another sip of beer.
“Nothing, darling, I’m just taking off my shoes, loosening up and relaxing” her sweet, gentle reply made him exhale audibly; he would either have to lecture her on her behaviour or start an argument.
But would he be any different?
To follow through on her words, she undid the silver fastenings and the fabric of her knee-highs rolled down slightly of its own accord, piece by piece revealing her leg, her skin, her body illuminated by the fire.
Dieter watched his young wife wordlessly, yet as he clenched his jaw, he waited for just a moment – the right moment.
She would gladly give it to him.
She stretched and feigned a yawn, knowing that her dress would slip even further; as the excitement welled up inside her, her heart beating fast, longing for him, she accidentally dropped her pearl bracelet.
Due to the somewhat sweeping motion of her stretch, the jewellery had landed just in front of Dieter on the floor.
“Oh, it’s slipped right off my wrist; I’d better pick it up” she said aloud as she moved from the armchair onto the floor.
“Don’t you dare! Stand up!” Hellstrom snapped at his wife, indignant at her behaviour, even though he himself had long since forgotten the book.
Had she not been so deeply absorbed in her task, she would surely have laughed at herself - or at anyone else who had actually gone down to the floor to crawl towards the piece of jewellery.
Even before her fingers could touch the pearl bracelet, Dieter tore himself from his seat and grabbed her arm.
With a force that took her breath away, he pulled her up roughly; she could barely stand upright as he showed her no consideration and pushed her backwards in front of him into the adjoining room.
“You are my wife, not some filthy whore” Dieter accused her, his voice thick with excitement, his accent clearly audible as she surrendered to his feelings.
A sense of curiosity stirred within her as she finally had him there, just as she’d imagined.
It was only when her legs bumped against the bed that he seemed to regain his composure for a moment.
“My husband, the devil, leaves me bored and then wonders why I behave this way” she retorted; yet before she could even cross her arms over her chest, he had seized one of her wrists - not roughly, but rather as a warning.
They both knew he could be playful, that he was certainly up for a little challenge – but one like this?
Placing her free hand slowly on the buttons of his shirt, testing whether her husband would let her, he looked at her.
She didn’t need to place her hand on his chest to feel his quickened heartbeat, to know that his blood was coursing through him, full of heat; the slight tremor of his body as she undid the first buttons, one by one.
“Don’t I always take care of you?” a superfluous question as the older one released her wrist to place his own hand on hers, deftly pulling the straps of her dress from her shoulders.
Even before he reached round her back to undo the fastening, his hand suddenly rested on her throat.
Not tight enough to take her breath away, yet he could feel her hasty heartbeat, her impatience clear. “Ich habe dich etwas gefragt” that pride again - how had she dared not answer him quickly enough?
The hint of a smile on her lips instead of an answer seemed to be the last straw; with a jerk he pushed her backwards, a startled cry escaping her lips as she was caught by the soft mattress.
Excitement was bubbling up in both of them; as she moved back on the bed to create some distance, her husband wouldn’t let her escape.
Dieter joined her on the bed, and a back-and-forth began between the two; the more her pleasure showed, the more he seemed to lose control.
A groan escaped her lips as Hellstrom finally pinned her wrists to the bed; her strength was no match for his, and she could not push him off her.
This realisation, combined with the sensations she had felt before, spurred her on to want more.
The couple looked at each other, panting heavily; lust had long clouded their eyes. Her dress had slipped, his shirt was open; both their hair was tousled, no longer neatly combed.
“You wanted this all along, didn’t you?” he bent down towards her, kissing her along her neck, briefly and hastily wanting more of her than he could get, before he took his hands off her wrists and placed them on her dress.
For a man like him, it was easy to pull the fabric down slightly so that her breasts were exposed.
“Would you have been so rough if I’d asked nicely?” her counter-question remained just as unanswered, yet from the way he averted his gaze, they both knew what the answer would have been.
It didn’t matter, though, as his lips pressed against her breasts, small kisses followed by nibbles, the gasping that escaped her lips, the slight arching as he pinched her sensitive nipples.
The knowing look in his eyes, hungry, satisfied, calculating – he knew exactly how to treat her to get what he wanted – to hear and see exactly what he wanted from her.
The sweet pain, sharp at first, turned to a dull throb the longer Hellstrom taunted her.
“Shhh, you’ve only got yourself to blame, mein liebling” his words as cruel as his smile - that of a wolf, knowing he had won, revelling in the pain etched on her face.
Another shudder ran through her body as her attempt to make him stop ended in a kiss; her wincing was drowned out by the sudden kiss as he robbed her of the sound.
Yet his hand found her breast to caress, a mere whisper of a reward from a wolf – the devil who would devour her.
“I know-ugh please, please don’t stop” her plea elicited a breathless laugh from him; his fingers, warningly, rested on her throat once more—just because he had granted her request did not mean he would let her have her way.
Each of us must bear the sin that came with playing the devil’s game.
Dieter’s other hand slid away from her breasts, moving over the soft fabric of her dress; he lightly pressed the folds of the fabric, just where her lower abdomen was, almost as if he wanted to test something – to make her feel something, yet she couldn’t say what it was; her mind was already too consumed by him.
By a lust born of pain
“You’ve been craving this” he murmured to her, almost absent-mindedly, as he removed his fingers from her neck and sat up slightly between her thighs.
She trembled as his rough hands touched the warm, soft skin of her thighs; Hellstrom traced small circles, savouring her warmth, content once more with his beloved wife.
“I did” she replied breathlessly, her voice tinged with a giggle as she looked up at him, encouraging him, or at least urging him - to let his words be followed by deeds.
The slap that echoed through the quiet bedroom, cutting through the couple’s ragged breathing.
A slap on her thigh, not a blow, as if stroking an animal, his bright eyes looked up from where his hand rested to meet hers.
Their eyes met again; she could see from his smile that he liked how quiet she had become.
“Have you regained your dignity?” his fingers tracing small circles on her skin, pushing the fabric of her dress further up; just as she couldn’t resist him, neither could he resist her.
His arousal was clearly visible against his trousers, and the self-control Dieter had previously possessed seemed to crumble just as much as her own.
“Or must I educate you?” he whispered to her, as she lightly shifted her leg to graze his arousal.
Dieter couldn’t suppress a muffled groan, a sound that sent a pleasant shiver through her; the few sounds he made seemed all the more alluring as their eyes, bright with lust, met.
Both knew that this tantalising back-and-forth had to end.
Rising slightly, her fingers wandered up over his chest; Hellstrom allowed his wife to touch him, to stroke his cheek lightly.
Had they not both been caught in this whirlpool of excitement, he would have relished her touch even more, yet no sooner had she dared to touch his hair, to stroke a strand, his own hand shot out, pulling her hair back, his silent command to obey the pain, her own moan intertwined with his smirk.
The sharp pain on her head as he pulled her back, not allowing her to touch him; she belonged to him.
“This is all your own doing” a final warning, attributing her unwise behaviour as she let herself be caught by the bed.
The rustling of her dress fabric in tune with the dull sound of his buttons being undone to slightly open his trousers.
The rough hands moving up from her thighs to her hips, a grip she knew only too well, even back then at their wedding when he had grabbed her decisively...even back then she knew there was more to him than just a gentleman.
Her own fingers grasping the fabric of the bedspread, holding on as she moved her thighs apart, “So ist es gut” his praise, a calm, deep tone,
His damn charming smile she thought, ashamed of her own lust, closing her eyes for a moment, feeling as though she were burning beneath him as her breath caught in her throat, Dieter pushing into her.
A pause in her breathing, the hint of a whimper; she could hear his cursing beneath his own breath.
For a moment, they both forgot the excitement, giving in to the new sensation as her husband filled her, her own warm, soft walls enveloping him.
God, the creaking of the large wooden bed rounded out the evening, almost like a caricature as the wood groaned with his first thrusts, a dull, lopsided sound as the two bodies moved, as close as possible.
Her hands clutched the fabric, not reacting enough as she soon began to pull, lightly scratching the white fabric of his shirt, grasping it as greedily as Dieter had been to grab every bit of skin, to touch, to feel as he had done.
“Yes-fuck, just like that” her words spurred him on; she could feel him, thrusting faster, harder, deeper, giving her more of himself, her own legs wrapping around his hips.
The moan from his lips clear as she took him deeper, her own sounds echoing through the bedroom as she felt him even more inside her.
That initial slight sense of unease had long since been replaced by a lust neither of them could get enough of.
As she traced every inch of his warm skin, feeling him move, she thought she could feel his heart beating as fast as hers, and one of his hands moved from her hip back down to her lower abdomen, just as Dieter had done earlier.
Just a slight movement of his fingers, barely a touch, as if he wanted to feel himself within her, to reassure himself of how well she took him.
The German leaned down to her, another kiss - intimate, greedy - as she wrapped her arms around him; they would devour one another if it meant they would be bound together like this for eternity.
That she could see her man like this forever, his hair still perfect, just a few strands loose, eyes clouded with lust that seemed dark in the dimly lit room – greedy and devilish.
In the moments that followed, with every thrust, however pleasurable, she sought not only her own arousal; Dieter’s movements too became frantic, restless; discipline was no longer the priority, for it was that they both reached their peak to escape this burning fire.
The dazed gaze, loud, ragged breathing as his fingers gripped her skin firmly; the longed-for purple marks would soon appear.
The shudder, her shameless moans - for despite everything, he would not deny her her own pleasure; Hellstrom relished it too much to watch her crumble as he rubbed her sensitive nerve bundles.
Moments of pleasure followed in perfect rhythm as she felt his cock twitching inside her, the grunt as he came inside her.
Her own climax a silent scream of his name as her body arched slightly, clawing at him as they both took the space they needed once the fire was finally tamed.
Only when both their eyes opened again, breathing quietly and wearily, did Dieter withdraw from her after a few moments, letting himself fall exhausted beside her.
His gaze drifted to the ceiling, his chest rising and falling gently as the couple lay side by side.
“Only I can throw you off balance, my dearest,” she said, her smile infecting him as his fingers brushed almost apologetically over the marks on her hip – no remorse in his eyes, rather a sense of contentment.
Hellstrom pulled her gently towards him, his heart still beating slightly fast, a soothing rhythm as he draped the blanket lightly over them both.
“Glaubst du? It’s you, after all you’re always tempting fate by playing with the devil” he replied, and she saw that mischievous grin once more before closing her eyes wearily, knowing she lay in the arms of her personal devil and never wanted to escape his pull.
PS: My first piece for Dieter; the idea actually came to me quite quickly, and I have to say I’m more than happy with the tension and the smut of the way it turned out
Compared to Hans, who likes both dogs and cats but has a preference for dogs, Dieter is a complete cat person. His favorite breed of cats are ones with short hair
Dieter has two younger brothers and his father was a high-ranking army official
He enjoys drinking beer and coffee
Dieter is also an avid reader and knowledgeable in many different fields. His favorite subjects are history, physics, and German literature
His favorite colors are red, black, and green
Dieter doesn't have much of a sweet tooth but enjoys chocolate cake from time to time
He likes old-timey music. An example is included below
Summary: You are a star of the silver screen who meets an unsettlingly charismatic officer at yet another film premiere.
Dieter Hellstrom x Actress!Reader
Warnings: Mild anxiety,unsettling atmosphere and Dieter abusing his power just to get your phone number(oops).
Author’s Note: Hi there! English isn’t my first language,so some of the original style or nuance might have been lost in translation. I apologize if anything feels a bit unclear. I hope you enjoy the story!
You truly did love the big screens.
Billboards featuring your face once graced the streets of Paris, newspapers were plastered with your photographs,and your phone practically burst with filming offers.
That was before your home city was occupied,of course.
The Germans never give warning.
You didn’t even have time to think about leaving before the borders were sealed, and a letter arrived in your mailbox regarding a role in a German film - propaganda.
It wasn't as if you had a choice..soldiers with rifles tend to be quite persuasive.
And so,posters with your face as the leading lady began to adorn every cinema.
How generous of them,you thought,not to have shot you in those first few days.
On the surface, there was little to complain about - the pay was good,and they even threw in a bonus for attending the premiere.
Everything but the moral cost.
You moved gracefully among the guests,greeting them,making small talk,accepting congratulations and gratitude.
The hall was swarming with officers in uniform and high-ranking German officials: not a single familiar face,save for your co-stars.
It was stifling.
Finally,you managed to slip out the back door and into the street.
Clutching your clutch bag under your arm,you lit a cigarette and exhaled a plume of acrid smoke.
Tonight,it felt truly cloying.
"Spare a light,Fräulein?"
The male voice came so unexpectedly it made you flinch. Turning your head,you took in the scene a German officer, clearly of high status, wearing a haunting smile.
There was no reason to refuse,of course.
How could you?
"Of course."
Your smile was strained,exhausted.
You lit his cigarette, silently hoping he would move on.
But he had other plans for the evening.
"My name is Dieter. And yours,beautiful?"
You gave your name, adding casually:
"I presume you saw it on the poster."
He let out a short laugh.
"Forgive me,I did. But I wanted to hear it from your own lips."
He leaned a shoulder against the wall.
"You are much lovelier in person than on the posters."
"Thank you."
Your voice was growing fainter.
His smile was growing wider.
"Are you afraid of me?"
You swallowed hard.
"Fear isn't always rational,Officer. Don't take offense."
"Perish the thought."
He took a drag of his cigarette.
"Would you happen to have a pen and paper?"
He asked suddenly.
Of course you did.
"I don't think so."
"Please,do look."
You had no choice.
You caught the cigarette between your lips and opened your clutch.
"Ah,I see. You do have them after all."
He pointed playfully at the pen and notepad in your bag. You offered a thin,awkward smile,pulled out the pen,and tore out a leaf of paper.
"Do you want an autograph?"
"Your phone number. So we can arrange a time for dinner."
You froze. He was moving fast.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I like you,so please,do not refuse me."
There was anticipation in his eyes,and something...predatory.
It chilled you to the very core.
You crushed your cigarette against your heel and tucked the butt into your clutch. Placing the paper against the wall, you quickly scribbled your home number and handed it to him.
"You are charming."
The smile never left his face.
He brought the paper to his lips and seemed to give it a light kiss.
"Until we meet again,Fräulein."
And with that,he vanished into the darkness of the evening.
Good taste in books ~ Dieter Hellstrom x Fem!Reader (Part 2)
Part 1
Synopsis: Continuation from part 1. There is NSFW/smut towards the end, MDNI
Kana's note: Here's part 2! It's my first time attempting and finishing to write a NSFW scene so pls forgive me if the smut part sucks :')
Finished writing/Edited at 2 am so sorry for any mistakes in advance. Hope you enjoy! :D
Wordcount: 1.8 k
After that first meeting you and Dieter started seeing each other quite regularly. It was usually at the tavern, where you'd sit isolated from the other patrons if there were any. Most of your conversations were about books, Dieter seldom talked about his job to you. Whenever he'd remember anything about it, he opted to keep quiet. His whole day was just about being a major, but on the nights when you two could meet, he felt like he could keep his guard down. He had obviously run a background check on you, and after finding nothing out of the ordinary, he quickly grew to enjoy your company. You didn't put on a show when talking, and your interests were more mundane compared to the people he worked with. Oftentimes, you would just sit beside one another reading. It didn't take long for you to become more intimate than just acquaintances. Sometimes, when he felt it was safe, he'd spend the night at your board, only to leave early in the morning to go back to Paris. You didn't see each other every day, but you tried meeting at least once a week.
Today was a day out of the ordinary: you weren't at the little village of Nadine, you were standing in the french capital. Some guests that had stayed at the venue where you worked asked for a fluent escort to help them reach an address in Paris they weren't familiar with. After escorting them you were just about to go back to the chauffeur that was supposed to take you back home, when you noticed a familiar figure exit a building and get in a car that promptly drove away. You were quick to recognize him. You decided to check out the restaurant he had just left: it was full of soldiers and well dressed women, it had been a while since you had heard so much German in one place. After you took in the scene, you approached a waiter that didn't seem too busy.
"Excuse me garçon, is there an important event here today?"
"The German army and their friends often dine here, miss. It's nothing unusual, today just so happens to be exceptionally busy"
"I just saw two men leave, do you think they'll be back?"
"Who knows. They come, they go. Probably will be back, it's still the middle of lunch after all" the waiter quickly left you as he noticed a table needing assistance. You decided to linger by the reception and wait a couple minutes to see if you could catch a glimpse pf your beloved. You didn't have to wait a long time, for the intimidating major walked through the restaurant's door soon after, walking close to a lady who looked quite tense. If Dieter had seen you, he had promptly ignored you, but you wouldn't have minded, given he was working after all. What caught your attention was how scary and commanding he could look when he wished. You weren't used to this side of him, even if technically it was the first impression you had had of him back at the tavern when you had first met many weeks ago now. You kept lingering near the reception, catching small glimpses and phrases of the conversation some officers were having with the young woman.
Suddenly, a tall, older but still handsome officer walked past you and into the room you were discretely observing. Gradually, the people inside poured out, expect for the older officer and the young woman. Of course, Dieter was amongst those who had exited, he discretely approached you when he saw you.
"Mademoiselle, I believe you have my lighter" he said casually, trying to not make you stand out. You happily obliged to the act, taking out a lighter from your pocket and handing it to him.
"Was that you earlier? You walked in here like you were gonna bite that poor girl's head off!" you asked with a smile, but still minding to keep your voice down.
"Zoller could not shut up about her. I had to go get her and get her quick." he rolled his eyes slightly, as he placed a new cigarette between his lips.
"She only speaks French from what I gather?"
"Ja." He replied while he lit the cigarette.
"Aw, maybe I can help translate, if-" you were just about to a step towards the room when he stopped you.
"Nein." He gripped your arm firmly. "You're quite alright out here"
You looked back at him with a bit of confusion.
"Colonel Landa speaks French well," He elaborated. "and the most important matters have already been settled."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. And you should finish whatever business brought you to Paris and head back to Nadine as soon as you can" his eyes were keeping tabs on the whole room in front of him, where each soldier was, talking with whom, making sure no one was looking at you.
"But Dieter I just got to see you for barely a minute" you complained a bit.
"Call me Sturmbannführer in public." he said firmly. "I'll see you tonight. Do you have a ride to reach Nadine?"
"Yes, I do...I finish at 6 tonight, see you then" you said quietly, holding back a smile.
"Good day to you, mademoiselle" he said slightly more loudly than he had the other sentences.
***
That night, Dieter was patiently waiting in the alleyway next to the venue where you were working and living. The routine was as follows: if there weren't events being hosted, you would wait for your shift to be over and the hallways to mostly quiet down before you'd sneakily open the locked side entrance, let him in, lock the door again, and make it to your room as quickly as possible. Tonight was odd: you were running late. Once Dieter finally heard the click of the lock and saw your face through the decorative glass of the door he slipped inside the venue, he only spoke when you were safely inside your room.
"Liebe, I believe you told me you'd get off work by 6" He began.
"I know I just-"
"it is 8, Liebeling. What could've possibly been more important?" He stepped quite close to you, as if to playfully intimidate you.
"My workplace...which provides my housing" you replied a bit embarrassed.
"Which provides you with your skin burned off your hands because of the chemicals, Liebe" he reprimanded, even though you knew he did out of a place of care.
"I'm sorry, Dieter"
"Fine, I'll forgive you. Just for tonight" He kissed you softly once, twice, then three times. "I have some duties very early in the morning tomorrow..." he started saying, as his hands slowly lifted your skirt.
"So tonight our time isn't as plentiful as usual" he explained as his hand caressed the skin of your thighs. He turned you around so your back was pressing against his chest, as his fingers stroked you through your panties.
"Hey, too forward..." You trembled at the contact.
"Shut up. You know how I am"
He kept kneading your intimacy through the cotton lace, you tried hard to stay still.
"Come on, you know I don't like dirtying my clothes..." You tried keeping your voice down.
"I can't stay the night tonight, you'll have to endure me this way"
He kept stroking you, his fingers becoming more insistent, almost pushing you into him. You couldn't help but start moving slightly, looking for more friction than what he was already providing. He was quick to move the fabric aside and push a finger in you, which immediately made you sigh in relief, before it turned into pleasure. You covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle the moans that you knew were coming.
"It seems you can be satisfied even with little." He smirked, seeing how quickly you got wet.
"you know that's not t-true...!" You suppressed a moan as he pushed in another finger. He remained still to let you adjust to the feeling, before he started moving his hand again, which made you even more aroused in mere seconds.
"What were you saying, Liebe?"
"Fine, proved your point there, but p-please, if you really have to leave don't leave me with just touches!"
He chuckled. "Doesn't that go without saying?"
He swiftly removed his fingers, and gave you a moment to catch your breath. He took off the outermost layers of his clothing then helped you undress too, his movements rushed now. In an instant you were both on your bed, him laying behind you, his arms caging you against his firm chest. He penetrated you slowly and without warning, your breathing quickened as you tried to remain quiet still. His thrusts were slow at first, before they started getting quicker, more uncoordinated. He didn't move his lower body too much given your position, but he didn't have to to drive you mad with pleasure. He knew you and your sensitive spots all too well. It was ironic you were trying to be silent, because his thrusts didn't even give you enough time to form words. His shaft was stroking your insides so deliciously, constantly drawing gasps from your lips, his arms and chest provided warmth for your whole body, and his scent, goodness it was all around you. You couldn't help but be absolutely intoxicated by it. This moment was just too perfect for you: the closeness after a long day, his breathing right next to your ear, his soft groans barely audible as he focused completely on the intimacy with you. When he reached his climax he didn't stop moving, just merely let out a breath he was holding and kept thrusting until you came as well, you weren't that far behind.
After the intense but slightly rushed ordeal, you both just laid there catching your breath. His arms wrapped around you even more tightly, not letting you move an inch. You felt a kiss on the back of your head before your eyes drooped, and you fell into a light sleep for a couple minutes. He fell asleep soon too, and stayed that way for at least half an hour.
"I know you're awake, your breathing changed" you muttered after a while. You just heard a scoff from behind you.
"Look how perceptive mein schatz is becoming" he said, you could hear the smirk in his voice.
"Slept well, mein liebe?"
"I always sleep well with you, I just wish I could remain the night"
You turned around slightly in his arms to see his face. "I wish so too"
He sighed when he saw your face. Your cheeks were flushed, your eyes soft and sleepy, and oh so full of love. "There will be other nights...but even so, let me hold you a bit longer" he squeezed you even closer to himself.
"Give me some room to breathe, goodness!" you teased lightheartedly.
"Nein, I don't think I will, schatz" he kept his hold steady. You simply relaxed and enjoyed the couple extra minutes of love he was allowing himself for the night.
