#moth works

[lyburnxm]

marriage headcanons -> hans landa & dieter hellstrom (incl 18+)

->(not my gifs)

warnings: 18+(with warnings), pregnancy, breeding kink(hints), jealousy, possessiveness

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

[lyburnxm]

apple strudel (hans landa x dieter hellstrom's sister!reader)

-> (gif not mine)

summary: "is that not one of the best things you've ever put in your mouth?"; reader is dieter's sister, and on the day she finally manages to escape his protection, she falls straight into the hands of the most dangerous man in the ss

warnings: who knows, he's a bit handsy

word count: 2512

a.n: requested by the lovely @climbf. i hope you enjoy!!

~

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?"

"Dieter, for the last time, it's fine."

"I can drive you into town it's no problem for me."

"Dieter."

He had asked once when you were making coffee, once whilst reading the paper, once whilst you were brushing your teeth, a fourth time as you were brushing out your hair, and now, stood by the side of his car, he asked again.

"Alright, alright," he sighed, giving the bridge of his nose a harsh pinch.

"Dieter if you don't leave now you're going to be late. I'm not going to be the one to get you into trouble. You've got to get going."

You reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing your thumb in a circle as you had when you were younger. Though Dieter was six years your senior, you had often found yourself comforting him when he'd got into fights at school, holding his head protectively in the playground as he balled his hands into fists. And even now, both of you well clear of your teenage years, you were still the only person who could calm him down. Your close childhood years had left him protective over you to such a degree that you could scarcely go out without informing him. He knew all of your friends, all of the bars you went to, usually screening them before allowing you to become a regular: he couldn't stand the idea of letting you out into the wild.

You knew it came from a place of love, but you were in university now, and you wanted to experience all of the recklessness that came with it; even in the war, there was still a little room left for fun. However, in the midst of his shadow over you, you spent most of your weekends with him. As some kind of compensation he always let you pick the activity, but it meant you spent barely any time apart. Of course you loved him: he was your brother after all. You just would've liked to explore a little: live a little.

It was a grey Wednesday, and you unusually had the day off. Your classics lecturer had called in sick, instead giving a list of required reading for the next couple of days. Although you were happy for the small sleep in, Dieter was anything but pleased at the disruption to his schedule: you went to university during the week, and come Saturday his eyes could be back on you.

Now he found himself in an impossible situation. You had obtained free roam of the city and his duties prevented him from keeping a watchful eye over you. He'd already tried pleading that you just stay at home, to even spend the day studying in the library, but you had protested you did enough of that anyway - you needed a change of pace.

"But where are you going to go?" he almost whined. One hand was outstretched to the car door, ready to get in: you just needed to coax him a little further.

Sighing, you leaned over to kiss his cheek. "I'll just go to our usual cafe." Nearly. "You know everyone in there. It'll be fine. You don't have to worry. Now-" You moved forward, practically ushering him into the car yourself, much to the amusement of his driver. "-you have a good day. And I'll see you tonight. We can even go out to dinner if you want to. I love you."

He scarcely had chance to say it back before you signalled for the car to start and you finally waved goodbye to him.

You were good to your word. Packing up your books from the living room and wrapping a scarf up to your chin, you braved the cold morning and made your way down to the cafe. The waiter remembered your order - or at least, remembered whose sister you were - and within five minutes of entering the place you were sitting back in a booth by the window, puffing at your first cigarette of many and sipping away at your coffee.

The reading for the day was quite heavy; you were starting on translations from ancient Greek, and the preliminary work had you piling books up on your table, spending twenty minutes per sentence trying to figure out what was going on. You loved your subject, and the soft music of the band across the way was gave the perfect atmosphere for your studies, but after two hours or so you were beginning to develop a headache. Leaning back against the plush, jade booth, you pinched the bridge of your nose, a habit you and your brother shared. The soft jazz was soothing and the pain was just beginning to retreat when you heard the groaning of a chair at your table being pulled along the wooden floor. You opened your eyes and were met with a tall figure dressed in a long, leather trench coat. An army man, as most of the clientele here were, but from the decorations on his chest you could tell there was something different about him. The way people from other tables glanced over their shoulders toward the pair of you, the whispers they exchanged at the sight of him.

"Mademoiselle, I don't believe I've had the pleasure," the figure said, reaching out for your hand. Even before introducing himself his lips were placing a coarse kiss against your knuckles, holding your gaze the whole while. "Would you mind if I joined you?"

"No, of course." Even from this small encounter you could already feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. Something about his manner told you you had met him before. There was something hidden behind those light eyes, something a little off in the way he smiled at you. For a moment you thought perhaps Dieter's fears had been well-placed, that maybe you should've just gone to the library. But then again, when would you ever be awarded such freedom again? Better to make the most of it while you could.

"I couldn't help but notice you were having some difficulties with your studies. It pains me to see such a beautiful woman so stressed."

"I'm perhaps being a little dramatic," you laughed, letting your hair fall over your face in an attempt to hide your new complexion. "It's just Greek."

"Ah, you are a language student?" His face lit up. "I, myself, am rather skilled when it comes to translation: perhaps I could be of some service to you."

The officer leaned forward eagerly, taking up one of your reference books with a pale hand. "Not languages," you admitted. "Classics. It's ancient Greek."

"Ah, that, my dear, may unfortunately be a little outside of my skill set. What a brain you must have!" He moved to light his own cigarette, studying you from across the small table like you were a piece of art. "I'd love if you'd let me pick it."

Your breath hitched. He must've meant it innocently. Perhaps it was just your closeted mind overcompensating for all the years Dieter had hidden you away. It had been so long since you'd had any interaction with a man other than your brother, and suddenly you felt like a shy schoolgirl again. In all fairness, your guest must've been at the very least twenty years your senior, so perhaps he too saw you as such.

In the midst of your racing mind you had forgotten to give him a response, which only made his smile grow.

"Well perhaps if I cannot aid you academically, I could at least help you relax a little." He must've known the effect he was having on you. Every line that rolled off his tongue was dripping with sensuality, the slow pace he dragged at his cigarette, making sure to give you a full profile of the movement of his lips. Though it brought shame to your cheeks, you began to wonder what they would feel like against your skin. You'd had a sample when he'd taken your hand earlier, but your imagination had more in mind. You couldn't stop thinking about how experienced a man his age would be.

"Tell me my dear - ah, my sincerest apologies! I haven't even introduced myself. Colonel Hans Landa, and you are?"

You thought your heart might stop in your chest. How you hadn't connected the dots yet you didn't know. Dieter had warned you about him, bringing home stories of the most dangerous man in the SS: and coming from your brother, that was quite the statement.

But even now that he had revealed his hand, you couldn't believe someone who had been so kind to you could've committed all of the atrocities you knew he was the perpetrator of.

"(Y/N)," you muttered, thumbing through a few of the pages before you absentmindedly. You shifted in your seat. His eyes were unrelenting.

"Do you have a second name?" he laughed.

You prayed the ground would open beneath you. You prayed for the rapture. Anything to save you from having to admit your family name.

Your prayers were heard. "Are you ready to order, sir?" A small, white-haired waiter stood a little away from the table, smiling softly with a pad and paper anticipating his order.

"Ah, excellent!" Saved by the bell. "My dear, have you had the strudel here? No? Well, we must fixed that immediately!" Hans ordered two portions of apple strudel, making sure to order cream alongside it, and helped you clear the table of your books. "Now, where were we?"

But he knew exactly where you were. You tried your best to linger as long as you could slipping your texts back into your bag, but there was no getting out of it.

"Hellstrom." You kept your voice barely above a whisper, hoping somehow he would fail to hear you. From the way his hands clapped together, you knew he had.

"Hellstrom? It cannot be! You are the little sister?"

"My reputation preceeds me," you laughed. It had never occurred to you had Dieter would discuss you at work, and now a new worry arose at what he might've said. You had been inseparable since childhood, for God's sake he used to change you when you were a baby: there was no such thing as a secret between the pair of you.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm just surprised because I know he watches over you like a shadow. Every time I've worked security with him he's been fretting over who might've got their hands on you." Hans laughed, turning his head to blow an ashy smoke cloud toward the window. "I never thought it would be me."

Now you were nervous. Nervous? You thought it was nerves. No - perhaps something else.

"I'm joking of course. You couldn't be in better hands." One of those hands now reached across to rest a top yours, enveloping it completely. You found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him, desperate to know what was hidden behind that smile, why every small brush of his finger against your knuckles sent a wave of heat to your breast.

"Two apple strudels, moinseur, mademoiselle." Oh thank God for strudel. The waiter swooped in to save you, forcing the colonel to release you from his grip.

"Excellent!" Landa thanked the waiter and immediately moved to retrieve the small silver spoon buried deep in the pot of cream. "If you'll allow me." He dropped a spoonful of white cream down on top of your pastry, a devilish smile plastered across his features. It smelt gorgeous, you had to admit.

You anticipated your sweet tooth was about to get you into trouble.

"Go ahead, little Hellstrom." The name just brought visions of your brother back to your mind, and you scooped up a mouthful with great rapidity, hoping occupying your mouth might help silence your racing thoughts. A wave of sugar overwhelmed you, your eyes widening a little.

"Is that not one of the best things you've ever put in your mouth?"

You nearly choked. Trying to cover it up desperately you gave a small nod, moving your hand to cover your mouth.

"One cannot survive on black coffee and cigarettes alone," he cautioned.

"Now you're starting to sound like my brother."

Hans laughed, scooping up another spoonful, deliberating over every bite with minute detail. "Well, my apologies. That's the last thing I want. How shall I correct my behaviour?" Hans put down his spoon, crossing one leg over the other, waiting.

He expected a true response. He was patient. He could wait. You fumbled for something clever to say. You wanted with all your might to be able to match his fire, to show him that you were so much more than your brother's sister. But maybe that's truly all you were. "You know," you began instead, trying to steady your breath. You knew what your body was urging you to do and the very thought scared you: but your limbs had a mind of their own. Your lust was running on autopilot. Crossing one knee over the other, you stretched out your heeled foot just far enough so that it could brush against his trousers and continued to speak. "You know if Dieter found out I was sat alone with Colonel Hans Landa, he would lock me in my room and throw away the key."

Who was this person? Where had these words come from?

"Well then-" Slowly, you felt a hand slip out onto your bare knee, rustling up the fabric of your skirt at an agonising pace. You were so shocked you cast a glance about the room to make sure no-one was looking. "We'll have to keep this our secret, won't we?" His hands were surprisingly warm against your skin, beginning to draw out small, teasing circles from your knee to your mid-thigh. You wondered how far he would go. You wondered how much you could take. Your imagination alone had been enough to set your body a fire, and now he seemed to be only indulging you further. Niggling away at the back of your mind, that little voice continued to scream out Dieter's going to kill you.

But louder than that was the voice crying out, begging for his hand to climb just a little higher, just a little further.

Then, as suddenly as it had arrived, Hans withdrew his hand and reached once again for his leather gloves. You could've weeped from pure frustration.

"Sadly, my dear, I must say goodbye."

"No-" The word slipped out of your mouth before you could realise what you were saying. You must've stunk of desperation. You were sure you'd humiliated yourself, however Landa only gave you a sympathetic smile.

"I'm deeply sorry, but I do have my duties too. Although, little songbird," he said, leaning down to offer you a low promise, "do come and find me the next time your brother lets you out of your cage."

[lyburnxm]

nickname headcanons -> hans landa & dieter hellstrom (incl 18+)

-> (gifs not mine)

warnings: 18+ content, brief smut - warnings given before explicit content for each character

a.n: requested by the lovely @cali-show-your-teeth hope you enjoy!!

~

hans landa☆

so i feel hans is definitely the type for nicknames

even when you're out in public with him, he uses them as a subtle way to show he cares for you, for example when he's in the company of other officers and doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable

"here liebling, let me help you with that." - also very big on acts of service: you can be sure you'll never have to open a door or pull out your own chair

definitely goes more for traditional terms of endearment; i can see him using darling, my love, and other equivalents

his whole aim is to make you feel special, like you're a princess, that you're untouchable - which, at least when you're with him, you definitely are: not a single man in a five mile radius would so much as think of looking at you when you're on landa's arm

hans is definitely affectionate in public, perhaps not overtly pda but his hands would always be on you one way or another; whether it be interlocking his arm with yours when out walking with you, or by placing his hand on the small of your back when conversing with his colleagues, just to let you know that you are always at the forefront of his mind

i feel a specific nickname that hans would have for you would be something like mäus or mäuschen, his little mouse

let's be honest he probably loves terms of endearment that relate specifically to size or age - as we can imagine there is probably a significant gap between the pair of you

-> 18+ below

in bed hans would definitely be quite vocal

he knew you loved to hear the effect you had on him, and in between soft moans into your ear he would whisper out honeyed words

"that's it liebling, you take me so well. so fucking tight for me."

would also just like to say that he's definitely into body worship; he loves to take his time in bed, stimulating your every nerve so that when you finally reach your high you see stars

hans gently holds you, whispering sweet nothings as you come down, running his hands over your body and lulling you into overstimulation

hans would always make time for you, even if it means sneaking off to an empty office when you come and visit him at work; somehow, regardless of where he ends up fucking you, he always makes you feel like you're the only two people in the world

"i know we have to be quiet mein schatz, but fuck - hearing you moan drives me mad. i can't wait until we get home to have you, i need you now."

~

dieter hellstrom☆

unlike hans dieter is less affectionate in public

he believes he has a reputation to uphold, and will refrain from most public displays of affection

that, of course, doesn't stop him from having a multitude of pet names for you

whilst you are out in public, he will only really refer to you by your first name, or as 'my wife' to the other officers

i can't see him being overly public about your relationship, not only because he's the extremely jealous type and would be glaring down at other men, white-knuckling every time someone looked at you for a heartbeat too long, but also because of his obsession with professionalism

although that doesn't mean he won't sneak touches when he thinks no-one's looking

he'll only be able to keep it up for so long though, and when he thinks he's in the clear he'll place a hand on the small of your back, guiding you toward the car, "come on, liebling, let's get you home"

when you're at home it's a completely different story

dieter only feels able to relax with you, truly let his guard down

when he finally gets to spend time with you, he's the epitome of affectionate, and you can be sure he'll call you everything other than your name

he almost feels like he has to make it up to you for how firm he is in public; you understand why he has to be that way, but of course you won't argue with long lazy mornings in bed, dieter holding you close against his warm body, his mouth at your ear whispering a thousand professions of love, about how lucky he is to have you

i think a specific name he would use with his s/o would be engel; i just think he'd be so appreciative of you he would see you as an angel in his life, giving him some relief from the hell of his day job

-> 18+ below

dieter definitely would like to dominate in bed, but never to the point of physically harming you, he's just definitely a man who relishes in control

as he is a very jealous lover, he fucks hard, and his stamina is exceptional

when dieter actually finds time to spend with you, he makes sure every second counts, and you can guarantee you won't be walking straight for the next couple of days

i can't see him being particularly vocal during sex, it's more likely that he focuses on pleasuring you physically rather than verbally

but you can be sure when he's close to finishing his mouth will be at your ear, chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck and short erratic breaths sounding

"fuck..schatz...mein engel...you feel so good. i'm going to say inside you, fill you up so good. you're so tight liebling - fuck. you're not going to be able to stand up once i've finished with you."

definitely has a small breeding kink - dieter would absolutely love the idea of showing you off pregnant, letting everyone know who you belong to

[lyburnxm]

an officer and a gentleman (dieter hellstrom x reader)

->(not my gif)

summary: "not hungry?"; reader dreads being dragged to her father's parties, spending the night surrounded by high-ranking ss officers, but finds her boredom cured when she's seated next to a certain major

warnings: hard flirting, age gap, reader is young (but still legal dw 😼), inappropriate touching

word count: 2377

a.n: request specified teenager so im saying shes at least eighteen obvs before you guys come for me making me feel like an unc at my big age of 20 🤡 request was very recent but holy shit ive had smth similar in my mind for yonks so thank u for finally giving me an excuse to write it

~

"Would you stop messing with your dress."

"The sleeves are too long. I told you I didn't want to go back to that tailor."

"Come now, darling, you look just fine."

"I still don't understand why you have to drag me along."

"I want you to be here. We rarely get a chance to see each other and I thought it would be nice for you to meet some of the people I work with. And besides, you're becoming a young woman now-"

"Mein Gott, you're trying to find me a husband aren't you?"

"What! I don't know why you would ever suggest such a thing."

You held loosely onto your father's arm as he led you into the foyer of the building. You were tired already and the party hadn't even begun. It was bad enough that you were the youngest person in the room by some twenty years, but given your father's esteemed position in the army, you were also getting attention for a whole other reason.

You braced yourself as the guard held open the door for you both and you made your way into the main hall. The venue was as grand as most of the places your father dragged you to, swarms of people in a range of military uniforms accompanied by women in extravagant ball gowns. To your trained eye you knew most of them weren't as expensive as they tried to appear, but you were too exhausted even to trade snide comments with your chaperone.

"Papa, I swear if you've brought me here to set me up with one of your colonels-"

"Liebling," he laughed, reaching out for a champagne glass from a passing waiter. "Don't worry. I promise I have no intention of matchmaking tonight. I simply wanted some interesting company, and you happened to be the only person available at such short notice."

"Available?" you scoffed, eyes scanning about the room. There were so many people the crowds were blurring into one mass of insignia and gold, and the only thing you could think about was how badly you needed to get a drink in you. "I had plans, you told me to cancel them. You told me it was urgent."

"It is!" he protested. You pursed your lips in a tightened line and cocked him an eyebrow, ready to fight back some more, when he finally passed you a glass of bubbly, to whit you held your tongue and gave an audible sigh of relief. Quickly you raised the glass to your lips and finished off half in one go, the fizz slowly working through your bloodstream.

"Be careful, dear. Pace yourself. You're not used to drinking just yet. Make sure you stay away from the hard stuff."

You gave him a wry smile and tipped your head, wondering how with all of his military training your father had failed to find out you'd been drinking since thirteen.

The first port of call, once the guests had been sufficiently impaired by glass after glass of the old vintages, was dinner, and you knew that meant only one thing: the officer's table. You'd endured only a handful of these occasions before, when you were much younger and most of the comments directed toward you were with regard to how cute you looked, and how it was a good job your mother had been so beautiful etc.

But now was different. The dress you were wearing, though not exactly revealing, suddenly made you feel naked. Inhabiting a grown body for the first time around these men - some of which you knew to be boars when sober - wasn't going to be an easy feat.

The call came for the guests to make their way to their respective tables, and you felt your father tug gently at your arm.

"Papa-" you muttered, feet firm in place. You knew there was no way of getting out of it, but perhaps you could at least buy yourself some time; perhaps feigning an illness may have helped.

The general turned back confused, giving you a small encouraging smile. "It's alright," he whispered, the undertone of his voice clearly sympathetic, wordlessly saying I'm not happy about this either. "It'll be over before you know it."

You hesitated still, watching the officers filtering off into their respective dining rooms and feeling your chest tighten. You'd gotten enough silent looks from the lower ranks: you dreaded to think what the free tongues of the other highers would have to say to you.

"Don't worry," your father winked. "I'll make sure your glass is full. And if you pass out, I'll carry you home."

You gave a small laugh and finally assented, though your worry only increased when you passed into the room.

The party assembled consisted mostly of strangers, and by some horrific coincidence you were the only woman in the room. Cacophonous laughter flooded the room, some parties stood and slapped each other on the back, some grouped into smaller areas with more serious topics of discussion at hand.

Unfortunately your father outranked everyone in the room, so the moment you passed through the door, every conversation stopped and some dozen men all rose to their feet to attention.

"Gentlemen, please be seated."

It was odd to hear your father use what you termed his work voice, and for a moment you felt the full weight of his authority. He'd never been tyrannical at home, which may have been expected given his position. However since your mother had passed when you were little, he had sort of taken on both roles, being both mother and father. He was always soft with you and even in his punishments had never raised a hand against you: you dreaded to think how many people had died by the hand that now rested a top yours.

He looked down at you and gave you a sweet smile, completely removed from the expression he turned toward the gathered officers. He led you over to the table, pulling out your chair for you before taking the seat beside you.

There was a long moment of silence and you were conscious of dozens of eyes directed toward you. It was difficult to remember who you were, who your father was; seated amongst all those men you couldn't help but feel like no more than a helpless child.

Finally the drinks began to flow, and once your father had finally raised his glass the rest were allowed to drink and (much to your delight) turned back to their own conversations.

As soon as your wine was poured you reached for it, though you were painfully aware that the man to your right was turned fully toward you. With slight hesitation you glanced over to him. Beside you sat an officer you had never seen before, a major by the look of his uniform: your father's lessons in military attire were finally paying off. He was young, at least in comparison to the rest of the guests, with piercing eyes and an array of moles dotted around his face. He was practically smirking at you, a feat most people didn't have the audacity to perform, one hand flat on the table drumming his fingers.

You watched him for a moment frozen in place as his cigarette burned unattended above the ashtray.

"I'm old enough," you said by means of an answer. You tried to sound sure of yourself, but your voice came out small and you wouldn't have been surprised if he thought you a liar.

Left side of his lip tugged up into a smile, took a drag of his cigarette. Still you felt too shy to raise the glass to your mouth. Your admission suddenly dawned on you as carrying an alternate weight and you looked away when you felt a blush rise to your cheeks.

"Given who your father is," he said finally, voice as smooth as butter and lined with confidence, "I doubt there's a man here who would stop you even if you weren't."

He was casual with his words, but his gaze was fixed on you still.

Your hands were practically trembling. To your horror your father was engaged in amicable conversation with a colonel across the table, and you knew better than to disturb him.

You'd been brought as his scapegoat, but who was to be yours?

"Go ahead, fräulein. It's a good year."

Maintaining eye contact the major slowly drank from his glass, setting it down gently but not before passing his tongue over his lips. It was most likely an unconscious movement, but there was something deeply sensual about the way he did it that had you crossing your legs beneath the table.

For God's sake, this man must be at least twice your age! you cursed yourself, but the champagne from earlier on your empty stomach was persuading you otherwise. You'd always wondered why you'd had little to no interest in boys your age, and looking at the man before you now, it was obvious.

Steeling yourself, you relaxed into your chair, took up your glass, and put back the glass in one fell swoop, rather surprised yourself you'd managed it. Immediately a waiter came and refreshed your glass.

"Well," you said, the alcohol giving you some much needed confidence, "clearly my reputation proceeds me, but I have no idea who you are. Enlighten me."

Who was this new person? Usually inebriation made you giddy, silly almost, but suddenly you found yourself embodying a woman most of the wives at the party would've been intimidated by.

The man smiled softly, thumbing the neck of his glass. You had to focus intently to not stare at the deft movement of his fingers, wondering what they would feel like fanning across your skin.

"Major Dieter Hellstrom," he said.

Oh, so this was him. Your father had mentioned his name in passing once or twice, but you knew a fair bit about him from stories from the enlisted men. Many had stories to tell about Major Hellstrom, mostly of his brutality, especially with regards to his treatment of prisoners.

"Ah, from your silence my reputation also precedes me."

He was cocky, and where normally you would've been put off you found yourself only drawn further to him. Most men wouldn't have dared to talk to you like that, especially with the general only one place away. He was sure of himself almost to the point of insanity and it didn't hurt either that he was easy on the eye.

"Only rumours," you said dismissively, turning to your glass a little more gingerly now.

"Often there is more truth in rumours than in fact."

"For your sake, I'd hope not."

Dieter gave a low chuckle confirming your fears. Perhaps it was a similar situation to your father, that he was able to keep a seperate personality for work and domestic affairs: although why he would adopt a softer personality for you, you couldn't discern.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the first course was served. Not particularly because you were dying for the food - your stomach was in knots just sitting beside him (was he really inching closer to you or were you losing your mind) - but because you supposed you might get a break from his unflinching gaze.

Unfortunately, you weren't so lucky.

Rather than turning to the bowl of unspecified soup before him Dieter merely reached for another cigarette and lit it with a skilled hand. From how close he was sitting to you, you could smell the remnants of the others he'd smoked throughout the evening and you couldn't help but stare as he rubbed the stick along his bottom lip. Tilting his head back, he blew a trained cloud of smoke into the air, giving you a moment to release a breath you didn't know you were holding. A heat was growing between your legs, one you can't remember ever feeling before - at least not for a man outside of the books you'd read, or the movie stars you'd fawned over.

But Dieter was here: he was real, he was flesh, and he was moving his chair closer so that your knees were touching. The soft fabric of his suit trousers brushed against your bare knee and sent a shiver up your back.

Whilst you were inexperienced in this intricate dance, he clearly wasn't.

With shaking hands you searched your purse for your cigarettes but stopped short when the major held out his own. You held one between your lips, thankful your friends had taught you how to smoke, saving you at least some embarrassment, and leaned forward to Dieter's outstretched lighter. Almost unconsciously you gave him a perfect view of your chest, and you didn't miss the way his eyes flickered over your form. Regaining your confidence you leaned back in your chair, brushing your foot along his calf almost teasingly. You were glad your father was so intently occupied, because if he'd saw you with your foot practically in some major's lap, he would've took you home then and there.

In all honesty you were surprised by your behaviour, but the more you progressed the greater the rush felt. There was a moment where you thought the major might break his steely composure, but he steadied himself with a long drag on his Overstolz. Rather enjoying yourself you continued to run your foot over his leg, a slow dragging motion that made Dieter's breath hitch.

"Not hungry?" he asked quietly, though with the proximity you could hear him loud and clear.

Biting your nail you shook your head slowly, innocently, playing into the persona you knew he wanted. God you were so close.

Shooting you a small smile, Dieter - rather abruptly - turned his cigarette down into the soup before him and reached out a calloused hand to rest on your bare knee. His palm was warm, very warm, and from when his wrist rested you could feel his steady heartbeat.

"Me neither," so close you could smell the wine on his breath mixing with tobacco. "Why don't you ask your papi if you can be excused and I'll give you some more rumours to spread?"

[lyburnxm]

hands on your knees, angelina jolie (hans landa x actress!reader x dieter hellstrom)

-> (gif not mine)

summary: "if i were to kiss your hand, well, then you would have no choice but to take it to bed with you."; reader is the star of german cinema and attends the premier for her newest film, only to meet two particularly devoted fans

warnings: none? me being greedy ig

word count: 2232

a.n: lads honest to god if you want the threesome i will write it im just testing the waters here. sorry also eeby sleeby proofreading i had an exam today this is my treat to myself

~

Premier nights were always the same. Lights, camera, action. By now you had it down to an art, the fake smiles, the extravagant outfits, the commending your co-stars even if you'd spent every day shooting wishing they were dead.

Making a film during the war was a difficulty in itself, but you still had to make a living, so when the director had called you up you hadn't hesitated. Perhaps it wasn't your best work, but at least it payed the bills, and it kept invitations to these sorts of events coming. You had to admit there was something enjoyable about being the centre of attention, though some days you did find it tiring.

Tonight was was your first big event since the war had broken out, and you planned to make an evening of it. You'd never even heard of the cinema, and at first you were reticent about showing your face at an independent venue lest it all be a shambles, but honest to God you needed a night out, needed some attention for Christ's sake. People assumed with your job you'd never have a moment to yourself, but as people's priorities changed and their will to spend what little money the war had left them with on frivolities decreased, less and less people were going to the cinema. You'd spent weeks swanning around your apartment. The isolation was fun - until it wasn't.

But now you were back. And from the second you stepped out of the car, you knew this was where you were meant to be.

Your reservations about the venue vanished almost instantly. Though size-wise it was perhaps a little cosy, the decorations were extraordinary - though as the film was being produced by the Reich, you hardly suspected anything less. Always one for the spectacle, a whole host of high-ranking military personnel were in attendance, chandeliers were hanging and champagne was flowing to excess.

One party member in particular caught your eye. Though most of the eyes in the room were on you, yours were on him. You'd only heard tales of him until now, the famous Colonel Hans Landa, the most feared man in the army. Overlooking the crowd from the top of the staircase he watched the masses like a hawk, never once taking a sip of the flute of champagne in his hand. In all honesty you hadn't expected him to be so handsome; you primarily recognised him from the insignia on his uniform. Slightly greying hair, a row of pristine medals on his chest, his face was severe, cool eyes scanning the masses below.

It took him a while to notice you, or at least to look at you directly, though you'd been watching him in silence for a few moments, ignoring the conversation a producer was desperately trying to engage you in. You felt like you'd been caught staring and quickly looked away. You noticed his smile growing at the sight of you looking just as you turned away.

It took a lot to make you nervous - you'd had to rid yourself of any anxieties from the outset of your career - but there was just something about the Colonel that made your heart beat a little faster, brought a blush to your cheeks. The hangers-on were still around you and you finally tried to engage with them now - much to their excitement - if only to distract yourself from the fact that Landa was now slowly descending the staircase, eyes trained on you. You pulled your fur wrap a little tighter around your chest and gave an effected laugh to something one of the other officers had said. For a moment you thought you might be in the clear, but after all you knew who you were dealing with, and not even the most adored actress in Germany could fool Hans Landa.

"Fräulein (Y/L/N)," a voice sounded over your shoulder. There was no mistaking the gentle Austrian accent in the register and you couldn't decide whether you were relieved or anxious to finally have his attention.

Landa stood behind you with the same grin you'd caught only a glimpse of, soft eyes though for a second you noticed something darker bubbling under the surface.

"Colonel Hans Landa," you said, giving him a small smile. The men you'd been speaking with visibly withdrew and after only a few seconds of his presence, you found yourself alone with the SS's most dangerous man.

Without even your offering he reached for your gloved hand, giving it a small disappointed look. You cocked an eyebrow. "Something the matter, Colonel?" you asked, a slight tease in your voice. Your fears were beginning to dissipate into something perhaps more dangerous as you felt the warmth of his own hand radiating beneath the white fabric.

"For a moment I thought I might have the pleasure of kissing the hand of Germany's darling star, and now I see my dreams shall remain exactly that - dreams." Such a speech, and for what? What could a Colonel of the Gestapo care of you? You assumed he would think of such things as cinema as the whims of women, not worth his time.

"You are opposed to my glove?"

He gave a small shrug. His mannerisms were not at all what you'd been expecting for a man with so much blood on his hands; he teased you as though you were old friends, almost as if he was trying to court you.

"It isn't quite the same to say I've kissed the glove of the beautiful Fräulein (Y/L/N) than to say I've kissed the hand. You see, I assume when you go back to your big city apartment you'll toss that glove on the bedroom floor and won't think about it until who knows when. But-" Lightly you felt his thumb begin to trace over your knuckles through the thin material. "-if I were to kiss your hand, well, then you would have no choice but to take it to bed with you."

You were stunned. Part of you wondered if this was a joke, but when you looked to his darkening eyes, there was a complete absence of humour. You steeled your nerves and reciprocated his teasing.

"If you have such an issue with the glove," you said scarcely above a whisper, "why don't you remove it."

The straight line of his mouth curled up at one side, and he was just making to pull the first finger of the glove when you heard a cough from your side. Hans stopped and you instinctively removed your hand, realising how odd the situation must've seemed from the outside looking in. All of Hans' hilarity fell from his face, his own hand lingering for a moment in the air.

Turning to assess the intruder you saw a tall man stood at your side, brown hair slicked back into a strict part. From his uniform you recognised him to be a major, and his warm body carried the soft smell of cigarettes. A constellation of moles decorated his face and for a moment you paused to stare, not too dissimilar to how your eyes had lingered on the Colonel.

What was happening to you? Perhaps it was your weeks of isolation, perhaps it was a natural reaction to having such attractive men simultaneously imposed upon your person. You weren't quite sure what you were supposed to do with yourself. It was as if your brain had short-circuited.

Though you were conscious of the anger radiating from Hans' body, you couldn't drag yourself away from the new arrival.

"My apologies, Fräulein, if I'm interrupting," he said, voice low and almost a hum.

You shook your head before Landa had a chance to dismiss him, realising that somehow, amidst two high-ranking Gestapo officers, you were the one with the power.

"No, no," you insisted, earning a smile from the major.

"I just couldn't resist," he said with a small smile, every word delivered slowly as his eyes drank you in. "I'm quite the fan of your work. I couldn't miss an opportunity to finally meet you."

He introduced himself as Major Dieter Hellstrom, and though you were turned away you could practically feel the fury radiating from Landa. Every second longer your conversation with the major persisted his blood boiled, and it was a wonder his glass hadn't smashed from how hard he was gripping it.

"I hope it's not too bold of me," he said, eyes glancing to the floor, almost bashful. "I was wondering if I may kiss your hand."

You couldn't help but laugh, much to his immediate dismay. "Oh, no, sorry, I'm not laughing at the request: of course you may kiss my hand. It's just that Colonel Landa here has just asked me the same thing."

The two men looked at each other finally, both of their faces dark, and silence ensued. For a moment you weren't quite sure what to do, looking back and forth between the pair in wait of a truce. There seemed to be a silent war localised to their shared line of sight and you realised only you could prevent them from going at each other's throats.

"Gentlemen," you whispered, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, drawing them closer. "There's no need to fight now: I have two hands."

They turned to you, confusion written equally across both of their expressions. With a small smirk - rather enjoying juggling both of their attentions it should be added - you slowly peeled off both of your gloves, tucking them away into your purse, before presenting each of them a bare hand. Neither had quite figured out the situation yet, but when Dieter was the first to move, Hans wasn't to be easily beat, and soon enough the pair of them were at either hand, both of them looking up at you through their lashes. You had to admit, you rather liked the sight. You'd thought perhaps they'd be adverse to the idea of such a submissive configuration, but it seemed in the competition for your attention, there was room for extraordinary behaviour.

Just as you were starting to enjoy yourself, the call came that the film was about to start. You didn't want it to end, the way both of them were all-but beggars at your feet.

"Well," Hans said, coming to your side, "whilst this has been nice, it seems it's time I escort the lovely Fräulein to her seat."

He was offering you his arm, which you were much obliged to take, but Dieter wasn't going to give up that easily.

"Actually, Herr Colonel, I think your security duties would be better suited in the foyer. It's best if I take the lady to her seat." Now he offered you his arm, and you couldn't resist interlocking, his firm bicep tensing around your bare skin. You could feel his muscle move beneath the fabric of his uniform and you couldn't help the excitement that flooded through you. Between the pair of them you had the most feared men in the whole of the SS, and yet they seemed to be willing to go to any lengths for your attention.

Landa gave a small chuckle, though it was anything but humorous. "The thing is, Sturmbannführer-" He snarled the title as if to remind Dieter he outranked him - though the major remained unphased by the hierarchy. "I was just having a conversation with our star here when you arrived. So, unfortunately, Sturmbannführer, you're intruding."

Hans seemed rather pleased with himself for coming up with this work around and was just about to retrieve you from the major when Dieter once again retaliated.

"I believe it is up to Fräulein (Y/L/N) whether or not I'm intruding." He looked down to you, grin signifying he already knew the answer. "Would you like me to leave?"

You slowly shook your head, trying to keep your breath steady under his gaze.

"There. We have our answer." Hans looked a little defeated, though still refused to say a word against you.

Dieter was just leading you toward the screen when you reached back, a hand wrapping around Landa's arm. With a mere shrug for explanation, you simply reminded them there was a seat either side of you - lucky as well, as without you as a barrier they may have gone straight for each other's throats.

The pair of them settled in beside you, Hans to your left and Dieter rather smugly to your right. Whilst both of them may have been accompanying you, the major had the added enjoyment of being on the same playing field as Colonel Hans Landa, his superior.

You were just settling in to watch the film when you felt a hand land gently on your knee - your right knee. You caught sight of Dieter just as the light was going down. He wore a perfectly placid smile, as though he wasn't making your heart beat ten to the dozen.

Hans noticed your attention become diverted, and whether he was mirroring the major's behaviour or simply just had the same idea, soon enough you felt a warm grip on your knee - your left knee.

The picture started with applause from the crowd, but you knew there was no way you'd be able to focus on the screen.

[lyburnxm]

taking care of you headcanons -> hans landa & dieter hellstrom

->(not my gifs)

warnings: illness ig, kind of obvious tho

a.n: long time no see 🤨 im still a little off but i thought id ease back into writing with some hcs!! anon requested some hans taking care of u whilst sick so i thought id do a spin on it, hope you all enjoy!! writing this on a flixbus what a lovely experience. also anon ik this isn't a fic if you'd like me to also write a fic just ping me a message!!

~

hans landa☆

hans probably realises you're sick before you do

i'd say theres probably two different scenarios depending on whether you're married, or if you're just romantically involved

if you've been married for a while, you'll be laying in bed and if he wakes up before you and realises you have a temperature, he'll immediately go on high alert

before you've even woken up he'll be arranging both cold compresses and hot water bottles, gathering blankets from the store cupboard and putting on a fresh pot of tea

once he's able to assess the situation he'll be performing every sort of test imaginable - yes, every - on you: he wouldn't want to leave any stone unturned!

only as a last resort would hans call a doctor, let's be real about this: that man is a complete control freak

basically he wouldn't be letting your feet touch the ground

if you had to go to the bathroom, he'd carry you down the hall; if you ran out of tissues, he'd replenish your stock without thinking

hans would be at your every beck and call

he'll be checking your temperature every hour on the dot to make sure you were getting better

in all honesty, though he really does too much, you would enjoy the princess treatment, and how absolutely insistent he is about it

hans would be better than any doctor - how he got so knowledgeable about medicine you dreaded to ask, but the man was like a walking hospital

you would almost feel bad for the people enduring sickness without his aid

he'd make your every meal, not trusting the cook to properly prepare things, insisting that you wouldn't get food poison too

not on his watch

if you were in a more casual relationship - though i doubt there's such a thing as casual with hans landa - he'd probably become aware of your illness when you failed to show up for a date

first of all he'd be calling you a thousand times: it wasn't like you to miss a date, so he knew something had to be very wrong

if you were too ill to pick up the phone, or if you were in bed trying to sleep off the sickness, he'd start calling your work to see if you'd clocked in that day

then he'd probably start on some of your neighbours, getting their numbers from the phone directory

when all else failed and he still wasn't able to reach you, he'd drop whatever he was doing and drive over to you himself, regardless of how important his work was or how far away you lived

without knocking he'd come in, find you shaking on the couch with a burning temperature

you'd be a little startled that he just broke into your house, but let's be honest you knew what you were getting into when you started dating him

he'd carry you back to bed, lightly chastising you for getting up in the first place

he'd be very gentle, treating you as if you were made of glass

hans would lie by your side, despite your protests that he might catch whatever you had

he wouldn't leave you even after you fell asleep

as a matter of fact he rather enjoyed watching you sleep, the way you would curl yourself against his chest, how you would sometimes mutter in your dreams

he wouldn't even mind when he found himself coughing the next morning

~

dieter hellstrom☆

dieter's definitely more of a panicker

whilst hans immediately goes into all hands on deck, dieter initially is more scared than anything

he'll immediately assume the worst

if you have nothing more than a cold he'll be asking you if he should ring an ambulance

perhaps a little melodramatic but it was endearing how much he cared about you

dieter would insist on taking the day off work, even though you had little more than a sniffle

every time you'd sneeze he'd be prying you with questions: are you okay, do you need more tissues, do you want more blankets, could he make you some tea

he wasn't incompetent, per say, when it came to looking after you - uneducated might have been a better choice of word

unprepared perhaps

you were always the one to look after him when he was ill, and the best he could do was replicate how your treatment plan usually played out

poor man, he tried his best, but he just felt helpless

he would sit in bed with you all day, reading you stories - though this may have been more to calm himself down than for your benefit

his food was a little worse for wear, and he'd be quick to give up and let the cook handle it - though you can be sure he'd be keeping a watchful eye during the preparation

if it's more of a serious illness then you can be sure he'd be sending for the doctor immediately

he'll be pacing around your room whilst the doctor looks you over

the whole time he's waiting for the prognosis he'll be biting his nails, furious more than anything that he's powerless to help you

he'll make sure you follow the doctor's orders to a t, won't let you do anything by yourself

every night he'll be drawing you baths - though it's not exactly something he's used to, he'll figure it out for you

part of him worries what his colleagues would think if they saw him looking after you this way, but in all honesty your wellbeing was his utmost priority, and he was willing to withstand any level of derision

[lyburnxm]

masterlist ☆

•key: ♤angst, ♡smut, ◇violence, ♧see work for warnings!

○august diehl characters

tired of singing the blues (dieter hellstrom x reader)

everybody knows that i'm a good girl officer (dieter hellstrom x writer!reader)

anniversary (dieter hellstrom x wife!reader) ♧

truth or dare (dieter hellstrom x reader) -> 18+ ♡

sins of the flesh (marc schrader x reader) -> 18+ ♡♧

strip for your drink (dieter hellstrom x wife!reader) -> 18+♡

alone in berlin (august diehl x reader)

nsfw alphabet - dieter hellstrom (x reader) -> 18+ ♡

baby blues (dieter hellstrom x pregnant!reader) ->18+ (pregnancy sex) ♡♧

i'll be watching you (robert frost x reader) ♤♧

beweg deinen arsch ins auto (stalker!dieter hellstrom x reader) ♧

'tis the season (dieter hellstrom x wife!reader) -> christmas special ☃️

walther p83 (dieter hellstrom x wife!reader) -> 18+ ♡◇♧

my girl (stalker!dieter hellstrom x reader) ♧

undercover (dieter hellstrom x reader) (hate sex) ->18+♡◇♧

care package (robert frost x reader) ->18+ ♡

secretary (dieter hellstrom x reader) ->18+♡

roommates (franz sauer x reader)

close encounters (dieter hellstrom x reader) ->18+ ♡

champagne supernova (dieter hellstrom x wife!reader) ♧

moonstruck (gunther scheller x krantz!reader) ->18+♤♡♧

valentines (dieter hellstrom x wife!reader) ->18+ (breeding kink) ♡♧

scotch (dieter hellstrom x reader)->18+♡♧

dating headcanons -> (karl koch)♤♧

good boy (robert frost x reader) ♧

big brother headcanons -> dieter hellstrom♧

○christoph waltz characters

mambo italiano (hans landa x reader)

apple strudel (hans landa x dieter hellstrom's sister!reader) ; part ii

nsfw alphabet - hans landa (x reader) -> 18+ ♡

a night at the opera (young!christoph waltz x reader)

cherry (hans landa x reader) -> 18+ ♡

party favours (hans landa x reader) ->18+♡♧

having a daughter headcanons -> hans landa

○multi/others

nickname headcanons -> hans landa & dieter hellstrom (incl 18+)♡

hands on your knees, angelina jolie (hans landa x actress!reader x dieter hellstrom)

taking care of you headcanons -> hans landa & dieter hellstrom ♧

marriage headcanons -> hans landa & dieter hellstrom (incl 18+) ♡

artist!reader dating headcanons -> hans landa & dieter hellstrom

[lyburnxm]

my girl (stalker!dieter hellstrom x reader)

-> (gif not mine)

summary: "look at you. you're good enough to eat."; although hidden behind a myriad of love and attention, the reader starts to realise that there may be something darker motivating the attentions of her new boyfriend.

warnings: stalking, obsessiveness, toxic relationship, very obvious stockholm syndrome

word count: 2460

a.n: requested by a lovely anonnn tysmmm hope you enjoy!!! updates will be slower now exam season is in full swing and the next person to say the words 'measure theory' around me is getting shot 🤡

~

At first you hadn't noticed it, the little things that gave him away. At the beginning of your relationship he'd seemed nothing but the perfect gentleman, and you supposed you were just so wrapped up in how good he made you feel, how well he took care of you, how he treated you, to notice just quite how obsessive he was.

You thought your relationship with Dieter was perfect. Only when you suggested you were going out with some friends did you begin to realise something wasn't quite right with him. It had seemed a simple enough suggestion, a meeting with some old friends from college for reunion drinks. You were just walking to the bar to meet them, a normal Saturday evening, when you happened to bump into your lover.

At this point you had only been going out with Dieter for a couple of months. Of course you liked him - perhaps even a little more than that - but usually you would've expected a little more time get to know each other before anything got more serious.

Dieter, apparently, thought otherwise.

You were just reaching into your bag to check your keys were safely tucked away when a firm hand wrapped around your arm. You were so startled you were just about to wrestle away from the grasp when you looked to its owner, seeing none other than Major Hellstrom, with a face like absolute thunder.

"Where on earth do you think you're going?" he snarled. From a little way away you could see a group of some three other officers, watching the scene with no hint of confusion.

It took you a moment to register what he'd said. You couldn't think of a possible reason for him to be angry with you: in fact you were still getting used to the fact you'd bumped into him at all.

"I'm just meeting up with some friends," you answered, though you didn't know why you had to justify yourself to him.

His grip only tightened and you could see the indents of his fingers pressing deep into your skin. For a moment you feared him, after all you'd been seeing him for such a short while you'd barely had chance to properly get to know him. This was the first time he'd exercised such force toward you, and you were so shocked you felt rooted to the ground.

"Dressed like that?" he all but spat. He gave your form a one over.

You couldn't think what was wrong with it. A simple black dress, not particularly revealing, light makeup; it was the kind of outfit you always wore to have drinks with friends, there was nothing especially of note about it. "What do you mean?"

"No, I'm not having this." Dieter shot a brief glance back to the men who stood waiting for him before beginning to drag you in the opposite direction of your travel.

You tried your best to resist, but his hand was iron-tight and the last thing you wanted was to make a scene. "Dieter, stop it," you pleaded. "You're hurting me."

Instantly his grip slackened and though he gave you a window of opportunity, you still found yourself unwilling to run. Part of you was curious now of his motives. You were more used to boyfriends forgetting your name than having such attention from someone you'd scarcely gone out with for two months. His face changed completely, and now he looked more worried than you did.

"Mein Gott, what am I doing? I'm so sorry; are you okay? Christ, you must be cold. Here," and just like that he was wrapping his officer's jacket around your shoulder. It was as if he was a whole other person, his eyes almost welling up with concern.

"Dieter, you're scaring me," you whispered, reaching up to press your hand to his cheek. His skin was warm and the contact sent a shiver down your spine, the soft peaks of moles beneath your hand, the way he brought his own hand to press a top yours.

For a moment he paused, eyes closing and relishing in the touch of your cold hand upon his skin. The image of you wearing his coat would be forever ingrained in his memory.

"I just worry about you, liebling," he sighed.

Already his voice was laced with exhaustion and you couldn't help but feel bad, perhaps even a little guilty - though why you weren't even sure why. After all, he had been the one to interrupt your plans out of nowhere, without so much as an explanation, and now suddenly you felt the need to apologise.

"I panicked, I'm sorry. Seeing you looking so beautiful, all dressed up: I was worried you were going to see someone else. And when you said you were going to see some friends, I couldn't help but think of all the men in the bar, watching you. I-" He shook his head as though he were choking up, and now you really did feel sorry.

Needless to say you didn't go to the bar that night: nor any of the following times you were invited. In fact, as your relationship with Dieter progressed, you found yourself seeing less of just about everyone. He was always encouraging you to take days off, spend long mornings in bed with him, which you found yourself accepting more and more. He treat you so well you hardly realised your whole life was starting to revolve around him. You hardly ever went anywhere without him anymore, had less and less need for your part-time job as Dieter gifted you more and more - least of all your rent.

Nevertheless, despite his quirks (as you reconciled them to be), despite this little episode, you managed to persuade yourself his obsession and possessiveness was nothing more than an extension of his love for you. You managed to find it endearing, the lengths he was willing to go for you. Above all else, your happiness was his priority - except, of course, his utmost concern seemed to be knowing your every movement.

How he was able to maintain his career, unfaltering in his professional success, whilst having an eye on you every second of the day didn't bear thinking about. There had been occasions when you'd thought someone had been tailing you, when someone had taken a little too much interest in you at work. Only for Dieter to bring up details of your day he otherwise would've had no way of knowing, topics discussed with colleagues on your lunch break no-one else could've heard.

Dieter had been insistent that you quit your waitressing job at the cafe, reassuring you he could provide for you both easily, but you liked the freedom it gave you, and after some time, you realised it was the only place you got to see people besides him. Of course you loved spending time with him, but when it came at the expense of all your other relations, then you started to worry. After all, Dieter was a military man, a major at that, and you'd already had a hint of what sort of strength he was capable of.

But you loved him. So what if he was a little obsessive? At least he cared. That was more than could be said for most men.

It all seemed to come to a head one night some months after the incident in the street. Dieter had invited you to one of his officer's galas, an extremely grand and exclusive event with some of the biggest names in the army in attendance. You were a little reticent at first, perhaps thinking it too much of a step, but he'd been insistent - and it wasn't much use trying to tell him no anyway.

You had worried Dieter would be too anxious to fratenise with his colleagues and you may end up stood by yourself the whole night, but it turned out the exact opposite was true. From the moment he picked you up, you started to think this may not have been such a good idea. He said formal, so you'd dressed formal, even though it was out of your comfort zone. The way he stood staring at you in the doorway you might as well've been stood on your head. He was wearing a more formal military garb, the likes of which you supposed were reserved specifically for such occasions, but it was still hard to gauge whether or not you were dressed appropriately.

"Too much?" you asked, though there was no time to change.

A definite shake of the head. His hands were on you instantly, settling firmly on your hips, and you ended up having to remind him there was a reason you'd got dressed up.

The whole drive there he spoke of nothing but how beautiful you looked, how good you smelled, how he couldn't wait to get his hands on you after this was done.

"Dieter," you laughed as he traced small kisses along your neck in the back of the car. "We haven't even got there and you're already excited to leave."

"Can you blame me?" he whispered against your skin. "I'm not going to be able to focus the whole night, anyway. Look at you. You're good enough to eat."

He'd almost won you around to ditching the function - though you'd never say no to the prospect of free champagne - when the car finally arrived.

As these things often were, the gala was held at a stately country house, probably just one of many. Dieter didn't even seem to notice the grandeur of the building, and whilst you spent the walk to the front door in awe that you were even allowed to be here, his eyes never left you.

A glass of champagne found its way into your hand, and for the first twenty minutes or so you were content for Dieter to just give you the lay of the land. The whole place got more extravagant every new room you entered. High ceilings, Italian marble, the quiet expensive taste of the ultra-rich.

You'd never imagined you'd get to see this side of society, you who had barely been making ends meet six months ago.

In fact, you might've been tempted to leave, had it not been for how comfortable Dieter made you feel. Any worries of abandonment vanished instantaneously. His arm was linked with yours the whole night, and after some time it became more amiss that he had yet to speak to anyone besides you.

"You know," you tried, looking down into your glass, "I don't mind if you want to go talk to some of the other officers."

Nothing. "I get enough of them at work, and besides, you're here now." He placed a soft kiss to your mouth, tasting subtly of tobacco and the final remains of black coffee. "There's no-one I'd rather speak to than you."

You tried again, beginning with a small, flattered laugh. "It might be nice to see them outside of work though. Not have to talk about such boring things."

He merely hummed, continuing to study you with a small smile. It was clear this wasn't the right approach, as he'd all but ignored your last suggestion, so you pivoted.

The one place he couldn't follow you. "I need the bathroom, I'll be right back." That seemed to pull him from his trance, his face losing its light, and for a moment you thought he was going to refuse you. Luckily, rather than argue, he pressed a small kiss to your knuckles before allowing you to slip away.

The walk to the washroom felt like an eternity, and in a house this big you weren't even sure you'd remember the way back. You spent a long time musing at the sink, making as though fixing your lipstick. You must've applied it and reapplied it ten times, trying to buy time to calm your thoughts. You wrestled with your love for him, your love of how he treated you, with your desire for freedom.

What kind of love was it if he kept you in a cage?

You left the bathroom still undecided. There were dozens of people around you, a sea of unfamiliar bodies confusing you even more. You couldn't think. You tried your hardest to retrace your steps, but you were beginning to panic, and you weren't even sure you wanted to find your way back to him.

"Are you alright?" A stranger stood before you, a young, respectable-looking man with black hair and a small scar along his jaw.

You smiled, hoping you didn't look quite as manic as you felt, but clearly some trace of disquiet must've been evident on your face. "Yes, of course I-" You shook your head, trying not to make eye contact with him. Not only were you an imposter here to begin with, but now you threatened making a scene. You had to keep it together. "I just went to the bathroom and I'm afraid I've lost my date."

Part of you screamed to tell this man of the trap you'd found yourself in, that this may be your last chance at freedom - but the thought of losing one of the only constants in your life kept your lips shut.

The soldier was perfectly agreeable and gave you a small smile. "Would you like me to help you look? Who is it that you're here with?"

You thanked God for him. Dieter's name was just on the tip of your tongue when suddenly the man before you raised his hand to his temple in salute, eyes now straying above your head. Your confusion lasted only until a familiar grip snaked firmly around your waist, the major's warm body radiating next to you.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked, the undertone of a snarl evident in his voice.

You eased into his touch almost instinctively. All previous thoughts of flight left your mind as you molded to his strong form. "I thought I'd lost you," you whispered to him in a voice you hardly recognised as your own. Dieter's anger immediately subsided as he looked down to you. Whatever the soldier had seen on your face he saw too, his hand pulling you closer to him.

"Dismissed," he muttered.

The soldier left with a small gesture of respect and you all but collapsed into his chest, inhaling the scent of his uniform like it was oxygen.

"Mein Schatz," Dieter whispered, a gentle hand coming to stroke your hair.

You looked up to him, eyes all but welling up. "Please, Dieter, let's go."

Lucky for you he'd had the car waiting outside the whole time.