#rammstein imagines

[99flakeandsprinkles]

Keine Lust Richard and Paul could squish me between their tummies and I'd thank them

[frauschneidersfrau]

I've had this idea forever but I'm too lazy to do it myself lol, can you do one where you work for Richard as an assistant on tour and you both are flirty all tour and at the final crew party he makes his move? Super smutty please 🙏 🖤 thank youuuuu (also I love your fics they're amazing!!)

after the final bow 〣 richard kruspe

Title: After the Final bow Pairing: Richard Kruspe x Female Reader Setting: On tour, final crew party Genre: Smut, Flirty Tension, Assistant x Boss dynamic Word Count: ~2100-ish

-

You weren’t sure when it started.

Maybe it was that first night you brought him a towel and caught him shirtless, sweat-soaked and smiling. Maybe it was in Frankfurt, when his hand brushed your lower back and lingered. Or maybe it was when you realized Richard Kruspe was always exactly where you were—backstage, side stage, soundcheck—eyes always on you, hungry and dark.

You were supposed to be his assistant. Professional. Efficient. Buttoned-up. But professionalism got harder every time he smirked at you, every time he said your name like a secret.

Now, weeks of tension had led to this: the final crew party of the tour. Alcohol flowed like water, laughter echoed down concrete halls, and someone was blasting industrial remixes from a Bluetooth speaker. But you were barely aware of any of it.

Because Richard was watching you again.

He stood across the room in all black—tight t-shirt, silver chains, eyes fixed on you like he was already undressing you with his mind. He didn’t look away when your gaze caught his. Just tilted his head slightly and lifted his glass in a silent toast.

The moment stretched out, thick with promise.

You made your way toward him, heart thudding behind your ribs. “You’ve been staring,” you said, feigning nonchalance.

“I’ve been waiting,” he said, voice low, thick with something darker.

“For what?”

He leaned in, breath ghosting your ear. “For you to stop pretending you don’t want me.”

A chill ran down your spine, and before you could reply, he gently grabbed your wrist and tugged you toward the back exit. Past the noise. Past the crew. Down a dim hallway that led to one of the band’s private lounges—quiet, locked, soundproof.

The second the door clicked shut, his mouth was on yours.

Hot. Demanding. Possessive.

He backed you into the wall and kissed you like he was starving—tongue sliding past your lips, hands already under your shirt, gripping your waist. You gasped as his hips pressed against you, unmistakably hard through his jeans.

“You’ve been teasing me all tour,” he murmured against your lips. “Do you even know what you do to me?”

You smiled, eyes lidded. “Maybe.”

“Little brat,” he growled, dragging your shirt up and over your head. “Let’s see if you can still smirk when you’re screaming my name.”

You barely had time to gasp before he was kissing down your neck, your collarbone, your chest—rough stubble scraping your skin in the best way. He dropped to his knees, tugging your jeans down with practiced ease, and looked up at you like a man ready to sin.

“Take these off,” he said, nodding to your panties. “Now.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you slid them down, baring yourself completely in the low light. His eyes darkened, lips parting just slightly as he took in the sight of you.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I’ve dreamed of this.”

And then his mouth was on you—hot, wet, and devastating.

You moaned, one hand flying to his hair as he licked up your slit and sucked your clit between his lips. He worked you slowly at first, savoring it, groaning like he was addicted to your taste.

“God, you’re soaked,” he growled. “You wanted this too. Knew it.”

Two fingers slid inside you, thick and curling perfectly as he latched onto your clit again, tongue flicking in tight, fast circles.

You gasped, back arching, thighs trembling. “Richard—oh my God—”

He didn't stop. Didn't let up. Just kept going, pushing you higher, dragging it out until you came hard around his fingers with a cry, legs nearly giving out.

When he pulled back, your slick glistened on his lips and chin. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes still locked on yours as he stood.

“My turn,” he said simply, already undoing his belt.

You watched as he shoved his jeans and boxers down, revealing his cock—thick, flushed, leaking at the tip. He stroked it slowly, deliberately, watching your reaction.

You dropped to your knees without being told.

“Good girl,” he murmured, threading his fingers through your hair. “Open your mouth.”

You did, and he slid in slow, groaning as the head passed your lips. You took him deeper, using your hand to stroke what you couldn’t reach, tongue swirling as he began to thrust shallowly into your mouth.

“Look at you,” he breathed. “On your knees for me. Just like I imagined.”

You moaned around him, the praise making heat bloom low in your belly again. You hollowed your cheeks, letting him hit the back of your throat, spit dripping messily down your chin.

“Fuck,” he gasped, pulling out suddenly. “Too good. Need to be inside you before I lose it.”

He hauled you up, turned you around, and bent you over the nearest armchair. One large hand gripped your hip, the other guided himself to your entrance.

He pushed in slowly, letting you feel every inch.

You both groaned—he from how tight you were, you from how deep he reached. He bottomed out and paused, one hand splayed against your lower back.

“So fucking tight,” he growled, voice strained. “Mine now. All mine.”

Then he started to move.

Hard. Deep. Relentless.

Your fingers gripped the arm of the chair as he fucked you from behind, his hips slapping against your ass, the wet sounds of your bodies echoing obscenely in the small room.

“You like that?” he gritted. “Being used like this?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—”

He grinned darkly. “You’re gonna be sore tomorrow. And every time you sit, you’ll remember who fucked you like this.”

His hand slid between your thighs, finding your clit again, rubbing tight, fast circles as he pounded into you.

You came again with a strangled moan, body convulsing around him. He groaned loud, fingers digging into your hips as he slammed into you a few more times before spilling inside you with a rough growl of your name.

He stayed there, chest pressed to your back, breathing ragged.

After a long pause, he pulled out and turned you gently around, cupping your face in both hands.

“You alright?” he asked softly, brushing your sweaty hair from your face.

You nodded, breathless and dazed. “More than alright.”

He smirked, kissed your forehead, then your mouth. Slower now. Almost sweet.

“So,” he murmured, “still planning to be my assistant next tour?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Only if it includes benefits like this.”

Richard grinned, wicked and knowing. “Baby, this is just the beginning.”

[j0eyj0rdis0n]

RAMMSTEIN - Teacher AU: what subject they teach

Okay… I know some of this isn’t very realistic, especially as this takes an American perspective on school. But…

I do what I want lmao

BUT Rammstein as teachers has been infecting my brain for a fat minute now. Ever since I read this one fic on ao3 I’ve been dying. I needed to get this out. And lord knows I have more to say than just this one little imagine post. So if you’re interested, PLEASE let me know. I won’t shut up about it then.

TILL LINDEMANN - Vocational Education

Teaches woodworking, metals, and automotive technology. He does it all so classes are pretty sparse. And hard to get into…

He likes the idea that the kids who are seeking out his classes are the ones who are truly interested in the subject. Especially since his classes are decently difficult to get into.

And honestly being a more specialized teacher, he has more freedom to do as he wishes when it comes to the syllabus and activities done in the classroom.

I mean who else in the school is going to know what to teach in that position besides him?

No one.

So he does as he wants!

He definitely holds extra workshops during his free period or before/after school.

PAUL LANDERS - Band/ Orchestra

He has the degree to teach all sorts of performing arts but he really embraced teaching band and orchestra. He’s always been a music guy.

Very supportive to his students! Always making sure they find the right instrument to play if they’re just starting out.

Or showing them different pieces or artists to keep students engaged and exploring music!

One of the more eccentric teachers of the bunch.

But because of that the students absolutely LOVE him. Like they beg to sit in the band room to eat lunch. (Which is against the rules) but he agrees anyways.

Also sponsors the fall play and spring musical with Flake and Richard. Mainly in charge of the music and band, but definitely helps Richard with the casting and auditions.

CHRISTOPH SCHNEIDER - History/ Social Studies

Rigid exterior, soft when you get through to him. Students either love or hate him. NO in between.

He prefers to teach AP European history, AP World history, or AP Psychology. He likes it when the students are actually there because they’re interested, not because the class is required.

Like I said before, students either love or hate him. So they either avoid him like the plague or they follow him like a cult.

Honestly, he likes his alone time, so he’ll 100% lock his door during lunch time so none of the students who enjoy him will bother him.

Hands out a shit ton of homework.

Also has no patience or sympathy for troublemakers. He looks like he got two hours of sleep the night before, don’t test him.

FLAKE LORENZ - Visual Arts

Teaches basic arts classes like 2D arts, and 3D arts. But he also delves into the more complex classes like AP drawing/painting, advanced ceramics, and AP art history.

He likes each class for its own reasons, but his favorite is advanced ceramics. He loves the freedom and loves seeing all the interesting designs and pieces the students make.

Also, just like Schneider and Till, he likes that the classes besides basic 2D and 3D arts are sought after because the students actually take interest in the subject matter

Definitely the kind of teacher who fosters a calm environment. Students are allowed to wear headphones but no music playing out in the open.

More often than not sits beside his students and works on pieces of his own!

He also works closely with Paul and Richard when it comes to the school plays and musicals. He helps make backdrops and props. Definitely groans and moans about it, but in the end he loves seeing his work on the stage. Even if it’s on an incredibly amateur level.

RICHARD KRUSPE - Language arts and English

Teaches English language classes, advanced creative writing, speech, and AP literature and composition. Yeah he forced some other unlucky teacher to take on the basic creative writing classes.

He didn’t want to deal with the dumb brats who can’t write or spell. Fuck them kids.

He enjoys speech and English the most, he definitely likes the way the kids squirm when they’re forced to stand up front and speak.

Not a big fan of homework. He honestly neglects grading so he just makes it easy and gives out a one page worksheet, nothing crazy.

Helps with casting and oversight with the students in the plays and musicals. He enjoys helping with lines and memorization!

OLIVER RIEDEL - Buisness/ Computer classes

Teaches intro to business, personal finance, AP business management, and typing/basic computer applications.

He likes that it’s decently laid back. That if there’s a problem, there’s always an answer. Press the “A” key and “A” will appear. You know?

Questions in his class are pretty self explanatory and the guides he gives for the students to work through, aren’t too hard at all.

It’s decently hard to not pass his class.

I mean… shit… there’s no homework. None.

He’s pretty reserved, so it’s not often students talk to him for anything besides questions. Which for the most part he doesn’t mind. But when there’s that one rare student who actually gives a shit about how his day is going, it definitely makes him smile.

[spiel-mit-mir-ein-spiel]

MY DEAR BABES!

Just to keep you posted on things.

I will continue Ich will but i have a little writers block🫣 this may or may not have to do with my sweet boyfriend Paul lol. This man is distracting as fuck.. ANYHOW!

I'm also writing (behind the scenes) on a new story based off the tv show Sons of Anarchy.

The leading roles are 3 woman. The old ladies of Paul,Richard and Christoph.

But for my story i need some help! Because i need the following things:

Old lady for Flake & Till.

If you want to fulfill that role (lol) then hit me up in private message with some info!

Also i need a girl who occasionally dates Olli

( also hit me up in private message lol)

My sweet @millasketches is helping me with drawings. When they are done, i will start posting them! ( No pressure sweetheart! This gives me enough time to write some lol, so take your time haha)

SO SWEET LADIES , HIT ME UP 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[jimsbeetroot]

New Rammstein Blog!! @frauschneidersfrau !

I wrote a smutty smut smut smut for Christoph!!

- 𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲, 𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀, 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻. - Christoph Schneider - Big Wheels When only his hands, can do the job - smut

Hehe 👀

[rammwrites]

Uh.... Can i have a fluffy, cute fic where reader meets Flake (maybe in a coffe shop for example) and he fall in love with her and is like super nervous and sweet?

Yes! This is too cute nonnie! One Flake imagine coming right up!

Flake x Reader

SFW

~~~

The smell of fresh coffee grinds wafted into your nostrils as you entered the coffee shop, the little bell on the door signaling your arrival. You took a deep breath and smiled to yourself.

A perfect day in the shop, it was. It was chilly outside, the perfect weather for a steaming cup of coffee. It wasn’t too crowded, either. There was no line at the register, and none of the good tables were taken. In fact, almost none of the tables were taken, period. The shop was practically deserted, other than the group of men that sat at a table in the middle of the shop.

“You’re five minutes late today, (Y/N),” the barista, Jasefa, remarked with a smirk as you approached the register. She was younger woman, thin and graceful with long brown hair that was always tied up into a bun at work.

“I offer you my sincerest of apologies,” you began with a smile, friendly sarcasm ringing throughout your voice, “I got a little tied up at work today.”

“Well, I tried my best to keep your coffee as warm as possible for you,” she said as she handed you the usual cup of coffee that you had ordered at almost the exact same time nearly everyday for two years.

A beaming smile full of gratitude tugged at your lips, “You’re the best, Jasefa.” You pulled cash out of your wallet and paid for the coffee, along with the usual tip amount you gave her.

“You know the drill, if you need anything, come back here and get me.”

You nodded as you grabbed your cup of coffee and approached your favorite table to sit at. A small table that could only fit one, maybe two people, right by the window.

As you walked to your table, you passed by the group of men. They all conversed casually, except for one lanky man with glasses, who’s blue eyes were set on you. You offered him a warm smile as you walked by. He quickly looked down at his coffee cup and began to fiddle with his fingers.

You arrived at your table and set your purse on it before sitting in the chair. Making yourself comfortable, you unwrapped the scarf from around your neck and set it on the table before fishing through your purse and finding the book you were currently reading.

It was quite relaxing as you read. There was really no sound other than the sound of cars passing by from outside, and the occasional murmur from the table of men.

Do it.

Nein.

Come on, Flake, it’s just a lady.

I said nein.

I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. She’s just another human being, not a goddess that’s descended upon us mortals.

Can we just drop it?

She seems like a friendly lady. Watch, I’ll show you.

Nein! Just leave her alone!

“Excuse me, miss?”

It took you a moment to realize that you were the one that was being talked to. You turned towards the table of men. A smaller man, the smallest out of all of them, in fact, was leaning away from the table so he could talk to you. He displayed a friendly smile on his face, and crow’s feet appeared at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, I just couldn’t help but notice that you have a book that one of us has been looking for. Where’d you get it?” He asked.

You looked down at your worn out copy of To Kill A Mockingbird. “Oh, this old thing?” You gestured at the frail pages that had faded into a light shade yellow over the years. “I got this many years ago in America. Although, if you are looking for it, there’s a bookstore not too far from here. I believe I passed by a copy of it a few weeks ago. It might still be there. Would you like the address?”

“That would be perfect. My friend, Flake, here has been dying to read it.” He gestured towards the man sitting across from him, the man who was looking at you when you were walking to your table. You smiled at him as you retrieved a pen and a napkin from your purse.

“It’s an amazing book,” you said as you tried to recall the address. You looked up at the man—Flake, you recalled his name being—and his eyes widened as he realized it was him you were talking to.

He cleared his throat before saying, “I’ve heard that from a few people.” His voice was quiet and very shy. You finally remembered the full address and wrote it down. You handed the napkin to Flake.

“It’s one of my absolute favorites, it has been since I was a child. If you’re into American literature, you will like it,” you explained with a smile on your lips, not breaking eye contact with him.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“My pleasure,” you said before turning back to your book.

The rest of the time you sat in silence, not having another encounter with the men. Once your coffee was finished and you were becoming fidgety from sitting down for too long, you stood up and packed your things back into your purse. Before you walked to the door, you looked down at Flake, who sure enough was looking at you, and offered him one more smile.

You walked out of the shop with a wave to Jasefa. As you walked down the street, you looked at your surroundings with a smile.

“Hey! Wait up!” You heard from behind you. You turned around to see Flake jogging towards you. You stopped walking and waited for him to catch up. He had your scarf in his hands. “You left this on the table.” He handed it to you.

“Oh, thank you so much!” You exclaimed. You wrapped it around your neck.

“You’re welcome. Also, I’d like to apologize for my friend disturbing you.”

“There’s no need to apologize, I don’t mind helping someone out when it comes to books,” you said with a smile.

“You see, that’s the thing. Neither of us were interested in the book, I don’t even think he knew what book you were reading. He just used it as an excuse to talk to you.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

You nodded your head as realization dawned upon you. “Well, either way, it’s okay. No need to apologize.”

He smiled at you before saying, “I’m Flake. Well, my name is Christian, but everyone calls me Flake.”

“Nice you meet you, Flake,” you began, “my name is (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)…I like that name,” he said, not making eye contact with you throughout the entire statement. You could tell that statement was out of his comfort zone.

“Thank you,” you said.

“So, um, do you come here? Well I mean of course you do since you came today, but I mean do you come here a lot?” He asked, stumbling upon his words.

“I do. Everyday around now. If you’d like to join me tomorrow, I’d be thrilled.” You offered, knowing that it’s what he was hinting at. How bad could it be? Coffee with a nice, good looking guy, I don’t see why not.

“Oh, um, well, yes. If you’d like to, that is.” He said, stumbling upon his words once again. A light chuckle escaped your lips.

“It’s set, then.”

[99flakeandsprinkles]

More Mein Land art! Flake and two fangirls.

[99flakeandsprinkles]

Madame Pain update!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

@millasthoughts @spiel-mit-mir-ein-spiel

Richard and Paul get it on, much to the delight of their girlfriends

Warning, very spicy!