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hes-the-muse · 1 year ago

Text

'Immaculate Red'

ONE SHOT | IMMACULATE RED

[till masterlist] | [all muses]

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

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

Notes: A Till oneshot.

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

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

‘Give me your hand’ he says.

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

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

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

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

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

‘But Who? Till?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I do.’ I mumble.

‘Who were you there to see?’ he asks.

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

‘Who do you want to meet?’ he asks.

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

‘Darling. The show was cut short.’

‘How do have know?’

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

‘What.. no.’

He smiles through soft determined eyes, holding me tight.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Till? Till!’ I exclaim.

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

‘I, I’m sorry.’ I say.

‘Why are you sorry?’ he asks quietly.

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

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

‘Why?’ I ask.

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

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

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

‘ I don’t understand.’

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

‘Of course.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘But how?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Do you like it?’

‘I do.’

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

‘Are you warm enough?’

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

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

We stare at the fire. At the embers crackling.

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

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

‘I mean that, I think I know you.’

I laugh and try to change the subject.

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

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

‘Uh huh, yea.’ I say.

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

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

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

He looks hurt.

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

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

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

‘He puts on my coat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘No, wait!’ I call out.

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

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

He turns fully to face me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘You know it is.’ I’m barely audible.

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

‘I do need you.’ I tell him.

‘What’s that?’ he asks.

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

‘There you are, there’s a good girl.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I need you’ I tell him.

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

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

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

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

‘Till! Till!! TILL! TILL!! TILL!!!’

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

#rammstein fanfic #till lindemann fanfic #till lindemann #till lindemann smut #till linderman x reader #writing blog #writing

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fxnofthxngs · 9 months ago

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"Lust auf Dich" (Lust for You) Oneshot

Here it is!! My spicy and smutty oneshot that has taken me FOREVER to finish! Starring a female reader and our favorite handsome German masochist, Till Lindemann himself. Enjoy!

(⚠️ Content warning: swearing, smut, sexual themes, brief relationship tension ⚠️)

“No.” Till’s deep, baritone voice sent a chill down your spine, as only his East German accent could, his cerulean eyes darkening and brows furrowing as he sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed. He and his long-term partner, you, of about a year had been staying in a modest hotel in Berlin, on a short vacation after both of you had been quite stressed with work lately.

“Till, come on, don’t do this,” You replied while rolling your eyes, slowly shaking your head as you stood across the room from him, leaning against the wall with tightly folded arms. Your hair bounced slightly with the movement of your head, and your right foot had inadvertently begun tapping incessantly against the floor with your growing anxiety.

“Nein, das tust du nicht. (No, you don’t do this.)“ He snapped back with a slight curl of his upper lip, a small chuckle of disbelief escaping his lips while he ran his hands over the dyed blonde locks on his head.

“Oh, verdammt noch mal – (Oh, for f*ck’s sake) I told you it would be just a month! Do you not trust me to be by myself?”

You retorted, a simmering anger coursing through your veins as you narrowed your eyes and glared over at your lover. At that point, Till rose from the bed and stalked over to where you remained leaning against the wall beside the door, stopping just in front of you. You did not budge an inch, merely dropping your arms to your sides as you sized him up. Till smirked with a sense of disdain, pressing one hand against the wall beside your head, the other lovingly cupping your cheek with his larger, calloused hand.

“What if I could arrange for you to get some extra sick days off work? That way, you wouldn’t have to go anywhere, and you could stay here.” He whispered, in a tone that dripped with the kind of lust and honey only reserved for you to hear.

You immediately widened your eyes, cocking your head slowly to the side, debating the option being presented to you. On the one hand, you would have preferred to physically be at your workplace, despite it being a stifling and stuffy office job, where you practically sat at your desk for 8 hours a day. Also, it would be nice to visit your family for the first time in almost two months, since your parents were getting older and you worried about them being on their own, despite their reassurances they were fine and didn’t want you to stress over them.

However, you simply could not resist entertaining the idea of getting to stay in Germany with the man you loved so dearly, not needing to worry about eating the same bagged lunch every afternoon and being subjected to the inevitable boredom that came with in-person business meetings and the seemingly never-ending influx of customer calls. After a beat or two of tense but comfortable silence between the two of you, you smirked back up at him and raised your chin, almost like you were trying to appear taller than him.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, gutaussehend (handsome)...” You whispered, licking your delicate lips mere seconds before Till lifted you in his arms, allowing you to hastily wrap your legs around his waist. Grabbing a fistful of his hair with one hand, and hooking the opposite arm around his neck, you smashed your lips against his and he quickly returned the favor. Till held you up against the wall, one hand supporting your butt and the other clawing down your clothed back, showcasing his insatiable need to have you right then and there. The room, being dimly lit by several warm wall-mounted light fixtures held up by intricate brass fixtures, was quickly being filled with the sound of desperate, breathy moans, and the sloppy wet kisses between both lovers.

“Till … bed –” You breathed out softly, your brows worrying with desperation in reaction to the rocker harshly bucking his clothed hips and bulge against your clothed mound. He only gave a quick nod of acknowledgment to your words, turning you both around and carrying you swiftly over to the crisp white sheets. Laying you down, your head gently hit the pillows as he kicked off his boots and hurriedly pulled off your sneakers, keeping his much taller frame hovered over yours.

Till pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you to whimper softly at the temporary loss of contact. Throwing off his military-style show jacket , with his shirt quickly following, both items hit the carpeted floor below. You followed suit, tearing off your own shirt, and hurrying to unclasp your bra before tossing those down, adding to the small pile of clothes on the floor.

“Du bist sündig, weißt du das...?" (You are sinful, you know that…?“)

He groaned huskily, laughing and quickly diving down to encircle you in his loving grasp once more, continuing the bruising yet blissful kiss. Before long, Till grabbed hold of the waistline of your sweatpants, shimmying them and your already damp panties, down your legs and throwing them off of you without a second thought. You let out a small yelp at the feeling of your body now being completely bare for him to see and do whatever he so desired. Bending your legs at the knees, Till licked his lips hungrily before grabbing hold of both your kneecaps and spreading your legs apart.

“Mhm.. please..” You whined under your breath, loud enough for him to hear though as he got to work unbuckling his belt and discarding it, with his pants and underwear being the last to go before both of you were naked and on full display for one another. Climbing fully back on top of you, Till began desperately kissing your lips once more, holding your face while simultaneously reaching down to your core. Holding his finger to his lips, he spits on his index finger before pushing it as deep inside you as he could go, curling it upwards and flicking against the spongy flesh that drove you wild. You immediately threw your head back, biting down on your bottom lip and squeezing your eyes shut, gripping the pillow while your other hand flew down to grip the sheets. “Oh m – h-harder!”

Till chuckled and grunted hoarsely, his voice sounding more animalistic and primal than anything else. Your commands did nothing to quell the aching and throbbing pain that had a chokehold on his cock, which he did his best to ignore as he inserted yet another large finger inside of you, roughly punishing your pussy, even faster and harder now. All your ears could hear at that point, besides your already hitched and heavy breathing, was the squelching of your juices as he smacked one of your breasts across the nipple, causing a harsh sting that made you cry with pleasure.

“FUCK! T-Till..” You cried, feeling the familiar tightening of the coil in your abdomen that always began to wound up just before an orgasm. Speaking of, just before you could allow yourself to let go all over his fingers, he wagged his finger in your direction and pulled them out, to which you responded by groaning with irritation and opening your eyes to glare at him. He merely just kept that devilishly handsome grin plastered on his face, and at that point you propped yourself up on your elbows, opening your mouth to speak. Watching him spit on his cock, he began stroking it rapidly, and you felt your mouth watering at the sight of just how big he was, despite having had sex with him on numerous occasions before.

“Shh, shh, Meine Liebe.. You do not need to do anything for me, today, you only need to lean back and relax, kannst du das für mich tun (can you do that for me)...?” He cooed in one of the sweetest voices you had ever heard from him, nodding your head carefully while dreamily smiling up at him. Lying all the way back down, you got yourself as comfortable as you could while Till crawled all the way on top of you, still holding himself in his hand and not breaking eye contact with you once. You gasped sharply and felt your pussy squeeze around nothing, at the sensation of him slapping your sensitive clit with the tip of his cock, grunting at just how painfully hard he was now.

“Breathe.. For me..” Till whispered into your ear, taking note of your deep and shaky inhale, while nibbling affectionately on your ear lobe as you ran your hands up his back, anticipating the inevitable intrusion of his monstrous dick inside you. Finally, he began pushing himself all the way inside, slowly and carefully to allow you a moment to adjust to his size, which these days was a pleasureful and delicious feeling of being filled. Of course, the first time the two of you had decided to consummate your passion-fueled relationship, the stretch and burn of his dick penetrating you was so intense, to the point where you nearly passed out from euphoria, before he had even gotten all of his length into you.

Nowadays, you were usually the first to initiate the intrusion, whether it be riding him cowgirl-style and sinking down slowly onto his length, or getting down on all fours taking charge, reaching behind you to practically force him into you, which always turned him on more than he’d care to admit.

At first, his thrusts were slow and seemed to drag on, always nervous about harming you or taking his lust a step too far. After all, the heated argument you’d had moments before had irritated and angered both of you, despite having found a peaceful resolution to the conflict. However, you were not shy to let him know you needed all of him right now, wrapping both legs instinctively around his waist and bringing him even deeper inside of you. “Harder, p-please..!” You cried out, throwing your head back against the soft pillows, just as Till let out a low and guttural growl, feeling his dick get even more sensitive at the feeling of the inside of your ribbed pussy clenching hopelessly to him. His thrusts quickly picked up in speed and force, the head of his cock was now pounding against your cervix, as both of you became more frantic and desperate to be completely entangled in one another and reach the pinnacle of this intimate moment. By now, it seemed impossible to tell where one of your bodies began and where the other ended, your bodies meshing messily together.

“Till, I - I’m close! Fuck!” You yelped, with tears of pleasure brimming in your eyes as you dug your nails firmly into his back and kept a grip on his skin so tight, you were sure you’d leave a mark or two.

"Scheisse.. Noch nicht (Shit, not yet). I want you to cum on my cock, while I fuck my cum up into you, ja..?” He hissed through gritted teeth, using both of his hands to grip bruisingly hard onto your hips, taking full control and staring lovingly down into your eyes, your gaze meeting his as your mouth hung wide open. Pressing his forehead against yours, neither one of you could deny how damn good it felt to have each other like this. Raw, animalistic fucking that felt like the first time, each time.

With the tightening band in your lower belly threatening to snap at any moment, you threw your hand into his hair, grabbing a fistful and holding on for dear life. Till was close too, you could tell by the way he nuzzled his face into the crook between your neck and shoulder, kissing and sucking on the skin there like a desperate man dying of thirst.

Staring up into his lust-filled eyes, your mouth, tiny beads of sweat sprinting down your back and forehead, you could tell he was fighting the inevitable urge to cum right then and there, clearly trying to hold out for as long as he could. His brows were furrowed with determination, inching closer and closer to reaching the ultimate goal of both of you achieving the climax of your intimacy at the same time. As your toes curled together, you felt Till swipe some of your dampened hair from your forehead, wet from the sweat that had collected there before he planted a loving and carefully placed peck on your cheek.

“Babe, please – I’m s-so close..I-I’m gonna c-cum!” You whined with delight as if you were drowning in a deep ocean of ultimate delirium and euphoria that you did not want to come up for air from.

“Verdammte Scheiße (fucking shit)..! Me too, ah ah.. so eng, so gut (so tight, so good)..” He breathed out laboriously, reaching the pinnacle of just how hard and fast he could thrust his aching length inside of you, his languid movements now becoming slightly haphazard. By that point, you began yelling out at the sensation of your imminent orgasm, followed by a desperate moan that was swallowed up by Till placing his lips onto yours and kissing you with a heightened fervor, both of your tongues dancing in a desirous oral tango. Your heart was hammering like a drill against the forefront of your chest, and you could have sworn you could hear the blood pumping in your ears. At last, you felt that ever-winding cord in your belly finally give way, snapping like a weak twig as you felt your pussy clench and your juices gushing forth and all over Till’s cock.

This set off his own orgasm, before which he let out one final animalistic roar of relief as he gave three more harsh, pounding thrusts into you, before his hot seed sprayed forth from his reddened tip, kicking deep within your walls and painting them white. Just then, he exhaled loudly and collapsed on top of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and leaving slow, sensual kisses on the skin there.

Placing one of your hands on the back of Till’s neck, while the other began tracing invisible shapes on his chest, you both took the precious few moments of post-orgasmic bliss to catch your breath and allow your hearts to slow down to their normal rhythms. Slowly, you unwrapped your legs from his body and allowed them to rest on the bed, while Till let out a hearty chuckle and kissed your nose before rolling off of you, both of you hissing at the feeling of his cock sliding out of your soaked and sensitive walls. Sitting up slightly, he ran his fingers through his platinum blonde hair and clicked his tongue, while you promptly sat up as well and crawled up beside him, draping one leg over both of his and resting your head on his chest. Listening to his heart was usually something you did when you needed to relax or calm down, and Till would always indulge you by stroking your hair and kissing your head, even singing softly in German if you asked him to.

“How are you doing, Mein Liebling (my darling)..?” He cooed into your hair, his voice dripping with that sickly sweet affection that made your heart flutter like an over energized butterfly, and sent a familiar pang of want down to your core.

“Good, good, you always know just how to help me relax..” You replied, playfully smirking up at him.

“If you’d like, we could find some other ways to relax.” He challenged huskily, licking his lips and dipping his lips back down to meet with yours, kissing you softly and leaving you wanting to go for round two right then and there.

“Shh, now now, mister, let’s rest for a little bit before we think about doing that again, ja (yes)…?” You teased, pulling your lips from his, with a sultry expression painted over your face. Till nodded slowly and laughed quietly, as he usually was the one who had to tame you and remind you that he was not as young as he used to be. With both of you lying there, a mess of limbs, evaporating sweat, and relaxed breathing, you closed your eyes and within a few minutes you had fallen peacefully asleep.

Just before you drifted into unconsciousness, however, you could have sworn you heard him whisper, singing sweetly into your ear ”Ich habe Lust auf dich, nur auf dich (I lust for you, only you)…“

#rammstein #rammstein fanfic #till lindemann #lindemann band

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