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evans23 · 1 month

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Falling

Pairing : Hans Gruber x Reader OC

Summary : In the remanence of winter, Hans makes an unexpected encounter, which will bring a bit of peace in his chaotic life. Unfortunately, there is no happy ending for a man like him.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Smut. Angst. No happy ending here.

A/N : Enjoy dear reader 😁

Also read on AO3

It was a chilly afternoon in the middle of Spring in Kensington Park. It was your favorite park, even though you didn't really know why. After all, according to your parents, all the parks in London looked the same, but you disagreed with this assumption.

Also, you were slightly biased as you worked as a saleswoman in the little shop adjacent to the palace. You didn't like your job, but you loved the castle and its history. In fact, your dream was just in front of the park, in the form of a school called Royal College of Art. Unfortunately, after having got your A-level, you didn't succeed in getting a scholarship and your parents were unable to finance your study. Therefore, you started to work for a local McDonald's, and then, you found yourself lucky to get a job in the souvenir shop of the castle, thanks to a relative who ceaselessly reminded you what you owed him as the job was well-paid and not as tedious as your previous one. More than often, the customers, tourists for most of them, were far more agreeable than the ones who frequented the fast food, and you didn't stink of the greasy fries each night when you came back to your cramped apartment.

Also, the uniform was more comfortable and flattering than the horrendous one you had to wear and you could let your curly hair hang down your back without being reprimanded by your boss who was afraid of seeing one of your unruly hairs in the middle of a bag of fries. On the other hand, what should have been temporary had become permanent and while all you're friends were breezing through their plan life, you struggled to keep your own life on track.

That day, you had finished your shift in the early afternoon and as you weren't ready to face the loneliness of your life, all alone in your small apartment with a too expensive rent for so few rooms, you had decided, despite the coldness, to sit on a bench in the Walk of Flower to read one of your favorite book: "Notre Dame de Paris" from Victor Hugo.

You didn't notice the stranger who sat on the bench next to yours. You were too engrossed in your book for that and anyway, the park was well frequented by many people, locals, residents, or tourists for you to really notice them.

However, there weren't too many tourists at this time of the year. It was still too cold and rainy. It will change in less than one month. The park, the street, and the castle would be crowded for six months or more until the winter settled anew, a welcomed calmness around the venue but also in the busyness of your work.

During the summer, you didn't have any time for your hobbies as it was busy as it get at each hour of each day. You often worked more than eight hours a day as you were always willing to help your overworked colleagues either in the shop, the little coffee, or at the reception, diligently searching the bags with your little flashlight, looking for anything suspicious or sharp.

“Love is like a tree: it grows by itself, roots itself deeply in our being, and continues to flourish over a heart in ruin,” said the stranger in a thunderous voice and with a perfect French if it hadn’t been for his slight accent.

Startled, you looked up at him. He was tall, his broad shoulders and his black hair adding something quite intimidating to his natural charisma. He also had a hooked nose which was nothing short of engrossing.

"I apologize," he said, now speaking in English, "it wasn't my intention to frighten you..."

"[Y/N]," you said, your voice shaking a little bit.

He chuckled at that. He knew what effect he had on women.

“Nice to meet you, [Y/N]. I am Hans.”

He didn't know why he had given you his real name. Not that he was hiding in London. Actually, he owned a humongous and beautiful property only 30 minutes by car from the park. It was a secure place where he came after a rough mission or when he needed to vanish into thin air for his own sake.

“You're not from here,” you said, having recognized a foreign accent.

“Indeed,” said Hans who got up.

You looked at him from your bench. He was more intimidating up in front of you than before.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing towards the bench where you were comfortably settled.

“Of course,” you answered, moving your bag to make room for him.

“So, you read in French,” he said as a matter of fact.

“I don’t understand everything,” you admitted.

"I believe so, Victor Hugo is a convoluted author, even for a native speaker."

“And where are you from?” you insisted, wanting to know where this delicious accent came from.

He chuckled at your persistence, yet he told you he was from Germany. Hans was able to imitate the British accent perfectly, but he hadn't felt the need to deceive you. You looked quite innocent, and you were. Anyway, how could you have guessed you were talking with a thief, a mobster, a criminal ?

He talked with you the whole afternoon. You understood very quickly that he was an educated man, with a lot of culture and a perspicacity you could envy him for.

As you parted, he kissed the back of your hand like a true gentleman, the one in your romantic books. You didn't know what had got into you to confide so many private things about yourself to a stranger, but talking to him was easy, and there was so much on your heart that you needed to confide. Maybe because you knew he was just a stranger that you would never see again had made things easier. You felt lighter but also disappointed to know that you would never see him again.

But Hans wasn't indifferent to you either. Hans was intrigued by you. He had already noticed you a few days before when you were walking in the streets to reach the metro station. You were wearing your work uniform, that's how he knew that to find you, he had to go for a walk around Kensington Park.

Hans didn't really know what had caught his attention about you. Your face was certainly pleasant to look at but it didn't stand out from the crowd, your stiff gait spoke volumes about the pressure you felt in your life and you had a disillusioned pout that probably didn't make many people want to get to know you.

However, there was something about you that had intrigued him. Enough to want to meet you at least once. He hadn't expected to see you sitting all alone in the Walk of Flowers. Walkers rarely sat for too long, the cold quickly numbing their hands and feet. And yet, there you were, reading your book, a book that Hans had read many times in its original version too.

He had been surprised at how easy it was to talk to you. You were intelligent, not as much as he was, but not everyone could come up with escape plans and high-flying heists, you had wit and a dry sense of humor that he appreciated. You also had that disillusioned look of those who had already seen too much to still be truly surprised by existence. Hans knew this expression well for having experienced it himself.

It was a long time ago when he was a teenager dragged from home to home, separated from his brother, missing a father who died when he was only eight years old, and a loving mother. Their mother to Simon and him was an alcoholic who beat them for yes or no. It was often his big brother who suffered their mother's anger because he was not afraid to defy her or to come between her and his little brother. He remembered a day when his mother who had drunk more than reason and had just been dumped by her umpteenth boyfriend had destroyed the model airplane he was building for no good reason other than to make her son suffer as much as she suffered. She had raised her hand to hit him, but Simon had stepped between him and her, taking the slap instead of Hans.

Hans shook his head as if to make all those bad memories go away. It was a long time ago. When he was just a weak little boy. It was before the army that he had met an important man who was a member of German high society. Thanks to him, after his military service, he had been able to join the university where he had received a solid education in history, foreign languages, economics, and politics. Hans was intelligent and able to absorb thousands of pieces of information in no time. His eidetic memory was a real gift that had allowed him to join the Volksfrei where he had definitely hardened himself. So hardened that his ruthless behavior had earned him being kicked out of the organization.

He had worked as a mercenary for a while after that, but tired of having to answer to other people's orders, Hans had decided to become his own boss by carrying out his own terrorist activities with a group of trusted men in his pay. It had been a long time since the weak little boy had disappeared in favor of the man he was today.

And yet, your presence this afternoon had awakened something vulnerable in him. He wanted to see you again. He was going to see you again. He was going to make you his, whether you wanted it or not.

He thought about it, developing a plan to make you fall into his nets. He wanted to be subtle to give you the impression that you had had a choice. Little did he know that you were already partially won over to his cause. Indeed, the man with the imposing stature, the broad shoulders, and the nose of a Greek god had not left you indifferent.

He returned to Kensington Park two days later, waiting for your service to end. He watched you from afar to see you following the same path as last time to join the Walk of Flowers where you sat on the same bench as last time, another book in your hands.

"Did Victor Hugo get the better of your determination?" he asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

You jumped, which made him chuckle.

"Hans," you said, a hand on your chest, "you scared me."

"Sorry, that wasn't my intention."

He sat down next to you without asking your permission, not that you minded.

"So, Victor Hugo?"

"Finished last night."

Hans arched an eyebrow, surprised. You had finished one of the most difficult books in French literature in two days and after admitting that you didn't always understand the formal language of the book.

"Test me if you don't believe me," you had challenged him when you saw the doubt etched on his features.

He didn't need to be asked twice and had to admit that you had read the book, which make you be more surprising and impressive than he thought you were at first glance.

This little game of cat and mouse had lasted several months. Hans could afford it, his last heist, the robbery of a Russian bank, had earned him enough to live on for the next ten years. Of course, he wouldn't sit idly by for the next ten years. He wanted more. Much more. Millions to be able to disappear forever and live the great life he had always dreamed of. Except that now, he wanted you to be part of his dream.

However, how could he involve you in his life without putting you in danger ? And how could you never find out who he really was ?

Some of his men had a woman in their life. One of them was even married and had a child, but was it really a life to have to hide who you really are from the person who shared your bed ?

Of course, Hans had had many women in his arms, but never a woman he wanted to spend more than one night with.

Six months after your first meeting, he had invited you to his secluded house. A large mansion that could have contained your apartment, your parent's house, and your big sister's house all in one. Hans had cooked for you and charmed you a little more with his words that flowed like honey in your ears and his German accent that made you shiver constantly.

A year later, you were an official couple, much to Hans's delight, who for once in his life hadn't had to fight too hard to get what he really wanted. And God may be his witness, he wanted you, loved you and he would never let you go. You lived at his place and while he didn't hide the fact that he was a rich man, you didn't really know where the money came from.

Officially, he had introduced himself as a businessman. But you knew that something wasn't right in what he had told you. The designer clothes he lavished you with and the one he wore every day, the jewelry he showered you with at every opportunity, the luxury cars and the incessant business trips, something didn't add up to what he was telling you.

Yet, he was a passionate lover and even if you had already seen his bad temper surface when something displeased him, with you he was nothing but tenderness and patience. A trait that no one would have granted to Hans. He himself was amazed at how much he could be another man with you. You brought a calm to his life that he had ignored he had needed until now. You were the calm in his tumultuous life as a gangster.

You had tried to question him several times, but each time, he had turned you down, sometimes harshly and you had ended up understanding that what he did for a living was a subject not to be discussed. You were not totally stupid and even if you didn't know exactly what he did to earn all this money with which he flooded you, you assumed that he must be part of the mafia. Or something like that. Something that should have made you run away, but you were already too much in love with Hans, too captivated by his mysterious aura and the danger that surrounded him to be afraid of sharing your life with a mafioso.

The fact that with you, Hans allowed himself to be softer, and more vulnerable, only made him more endearing. Your parents didn't approve of the relationship between you, your mother having immediately had doubts about Hans' intentions. But neither he nor you gave any importance to what others might think. You wanted him more than you had ever wanted anything else in your life, more than you had wanted to study at a prestigious art school or become the next greatest painter in the United Kingdom. You were hopelessly in love with the mysterious German man who had captured your heart and soul.

Although Hans was less demonstrative in his feelings, he felt the same way about you. You were the calm, the peace, in his hectic life. He found solace in your simple presence. Many times he had told himself that he had to end this union, that he had to push you away, but each time he had tried to do so by being cold and distant with you, your confusion and incomprehension at his sudden coldness towards you had made his heart melting and he had always come back more in love and tender than before, doing his best to be forgiven for his harsh behavior towards you during the day with a crazy and passionate night of love.

Hans wasn't naive, he knew that if he wanted to build something serious with you, he would have to put an end to his activities and disappear with you. At some point, he would have to confess the truth to you even if he was well aware of your suspicions and how close you were to the truth.

It was on September that he had a brilliant idea. An idea that would earn him millions. Enough to ensure a comfortable life for both of you in Fiji or anywhere that would please you. He was going to attack the CEO of Nakatomi Tower. A high-flying theft worth more than $600 million if he and his men played their game well.

But it was not going to be easy and his sharp mind had to prepare the best of plans. He had already worked out dangerous, complicated, risky cases, but this one was the most important of his entire gangster career. When a man steals $600, he can just disappear, but when a man steals $600 million, he knew that the police and secret agencies of the whole world will be after him. Unless they thought he was dead. However, he was no longer alone now and he had to think of you, which made the whole organization of his plan more difficult than usual, even for a gifted person like him.

His brother had warned him that getting emotionally involved with you was dangerous for him, but he had not listened to him, sure of himself as usual. Except that for once, Simon was right. The love he had for you was worse than all the enemies he had faced so far.

"Another departure Hans ? You've already disappeared all of October," you said wearily.

It was the first week of December and he had just told you that he would have to be away until the end of December on business trip.

"Work is work. You're happy to have nice clothes, to parade around in beautiful jewelry, to wear designer perfume, and to live a life of luxury. Without me, you would never have been able to quit this job that made you unhappy and to treat yourself to these art classes that you wanted so much," he pointed out more harshly than he had intended.

But he was tired of your reproaches. It had been the same for a few months every time he had to leave. It was stronger than you. You wanted to know the truth, a truth that he refused to tell you and it hurt you. Yet, you loved him too much to have the courage to leave him.

"If you think I'm with you for the money, then you don't know me very well Hans. Keep your clothes and your jewelry. I never asked you for anything! If you did it, it's because you wanted to!"

"Exactly! The best for you is everything I want and nothing else. We've been together for two years, you're an intelligent woman [Y/N], and you know that this life that I allow you to lead doesn't come without sacrifice."

You didn't answer because somewhere, somewhat, you knew he was right and even though you were frustrated by his unspoken words, you loved enjoying the life of luxury he was lavishing you with.

You sighed, closing your eyes and rubbing your forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Hans came closer and took your hands in one of his while the other gently massaged your lower back.

"Mein leibe, I promise you that after that everything will change."

"How?"

"You'll see. In the meantime, don't give me the cold shoulder. I don't want to go to the United States knowing that mein pearl is mad at me. I won't be able to concentrate if I know that you're angry with me," he coaxed you.

"I'm not angry Hans, I'm just... worried and... I'd like you to be completely honest with me."

"Mein leibe..." Hans sighed, "everything will change, I promise, but no more questions for tonight, okay?"

You nodded, still a little frustrated by his silences that separated you more than they brought you closer. Sensing the distance that your disappointment was putting between you, Hans placed a series of kisses along the back of your neck.

"Bitte, mein leibe, bitte, don't be angry with me."

"Hans..."

"Bitte," he whispered in your ear.

You turned your head and he took the opportunity to capture your lips. Very quickly, your kiss turned into a fiery passion. He hoisted you easily and you instinctively hooked your arms around his hips. He led you to the bedroom where he gently laid you down on the bed.

"You can't always get away with a quickie, even if sex with you is better than a pizza from Rudy's," you said jokingly.

"Mein leibe, I'm sure that my cock inside your tight pussy is the best way to have you under my control," Hans whispered with a predatory smile.

You gasped and your breath got caught in your throat. Hans's smile widened even more and with an expert gesture, he removed your t-shirt. You weren't wearing a bra to his great pleasure and he immediately went in search of your chest to suck on one of your nipples. You moaned in pleasure, your hands running under his t-shirt to caress his firm chest.

"Tell me you want me," Hans whispered.

"Hans..." you moaned under his caresses.

"Say it!" he ordered while walking two of his fingers near your entrance, delighting in your pussy swollen with arousal and your wetness that wet his fingers even though they weren't penetrating you.

"I want you, Hans. I need you, I need you inside me," you said breathlessly.

It didn't take much for Hans to help you getting rid of your skirt and stockings. You unbuttoned his pants and he helped you take them off, while with a quick gesture of his hand, he got out of his t-shirt which joined the rest of your clothes on the floor.

He didn't bother with the foreplay, entering you directly. You were already so wet that he had no trouble sinking all the way into your tight pussy, moaning as he felt your walls tighten around his cock.

"Your pussy has been made for me, just for me," he whispered in your ear.

"I only exist for you," you replied, biting his earlobe.

He pushed himself deeper into you, the sound of skin meeting skin with each thrust echoing through the room, mingling with your panting breaths and Hans' deep voice whispering words of love to you in both German and English.

"[Y/N], my lovely [Y/N], if you knew what you're doing to me, you and your tight little pussy... HAAA... [Y/N]," he groaned, making you hornier still.

As you reached your climax, Hans pulled out suddenly, making you hiss at the feeling of his cock being lost in your cunt. With a deft gesture, he turned you around and, your stomach pressed against the bed, he pushed in as hard as he had pulled out of your little cunt, tugging gently on your hair while his other hand was on your throat. He thrust faster, again and again until he felt the two of you approaching your climax. He then turned you to the side with one leg between yours and the other above yours, one hand still on your throat, the other cupping your breasts as he continued to thrust into you at a frantic pace.

"Hans, please, don't stop... I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

"Come meine leibe... Come, come for me," he whispered in your ear.

It didn't take him more than two thrusts for your orgasm to shake your entire body with pleasure. Feeling your tight walls contract against his cock, Hans was quick to come in turn with an animalistic growl.

He pulled out carefully and you immediately snuggled up against him, finding solace between his arms, basking in the afterglow of your encounter. You quickly fell asleep, exhausted by the passion shared with Hans who stayed awake almost all night watching you while caressing your nipples with his fingertips, taking pleasure in seeing them harden under his caresses.

The next day, you woke up alone with a note on Hans' pillow.

Ich leibe dich. Hans.

Three weeks later

You were in front of the TV watching the Nakatomi Tower attack, tears flooding your eyes when you recognized Hans. In the end, he was not a mafia boss but a gang leader, a gangster, a thief, a criminal. And despite this revelation, your love for him didn't weaken.

You couldn't help but scream when the roof of the tower exploded, leaving the building on fire, and when the journalists announced that all the hostages had gone and the terrorists were out of control by a hothead working for the police. Later, the man named John McClane told reporters that Hans had fallen to his death from the top of Nakatomi Tower.

You fell to the ground screaming before curling up into a ball, sobbing and screaming Hans' name until you fell asleep. The next day, a man came to your house. He introduced himself as Simon and claimed to be Hans' brother. You knew your lover had a brother but he had never told you anything more about him. However, something about this man inspired confidence in you. The same confidence you had had in Hans. He returned the next day with a man with a gaunt and severe face, a lawyer who had papers for you to sign. Hans, afraid of not getting out of this, had prepared everything to ensure your future without him. Considerate, he had left you a fortune that could have benefited you for your next three lives. Except you didn't want a single one of these lives if Hans wasn't by your side.

A year later

Wrapped in a thick coat, a woolen scarf eating your face, you stood in front of a headstone, in the middle of a small, poorly maintained cemetery, in the town with the unpronounceable name of Schkeuditz.

It had taken you a while to make up your mind and come say a last goodbye to him, but the closer the anniversary of his death had got, the more you needed to be close to him, even if he had left you a gift that would allow you to keep him by your side forever and ever.

There was only a first and a last name on the grave. Hans Gruber. No words in his memory, no flowers. Just an unfortunate headstone in the middle of a thousand others. A name among many others, a name that no one would remember in a few years. No one except you, until your own death relieved you of the pain of losing your great love. You would never be able to get over Hans' death, you would never be able to love as you had loved him and you knew that no man would ever be able to offer you what Hans had offered you. You didn't think about the money and the luxurious life you continued to lead thanks to his thoughtfulness, but about his charismatic presence, the strength he gave you with just a look and the unyielding love you shared. The intimate moments that had made you closer than ever and how, even when you had tragically learned who he really was, you had loved him even more.

"[Y/N]," a baritone voice said.

You turned to acknowledge Simon's presence.

"You shouldn't come here."

"It's been a year today. A year since he... Nakatomi Tower... A year," you said, crying.

"I know. But coming here to mope won't bring him back."

"I know," you said through a sob.

"You're not supposed to be associated with him. Ever. Not now that a part of him is alive."

"No one knows he's his," you pointed out right away.

"And no one must ever know. Go home, [Y/N], grieve as much as you need, then start a new life, forget what you went through with Hans, pretend he never existed, and never come back here," Simon said coldly.

You knew Simon was saying that to protect you and the precious passenger waiting for you in the back seat of the car you'd rented to drive here.

"Go get to him before he wakes up and sees you're not here. I don't want my nephew crying. It's Christmas, and on Christmas, he should be the happiest little boy in the world."

You nodded and walked away, but not before kissing the tips of your fingers that you then placed on Hans' grave.

You got into the car and turned to the back seat, smiling fondly, though your smile didn't reach your eyes.

"I promise to be strong for both of us," you whispered so as not to wake the child who was fast asleep in his car seat.

Your heart was broken by the death of the man you had loved more than life itself, but as a testament to your love, he had left you with a good reason to live and fight. An eternal love that would live forever in the heart of your son. His son. Your son.

#alan rickman x reader #alan rickman #hans gruber x reader #hans gruber x oc #die hard #evans23

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muiitoloko · 3 months

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Diamond Shadows

Summary: In a world where his life of crime clashes with his deepest affections, Hans Gruber navigates the perilous balance between heists and heartfelt romance.

Pairing: Hans Gruber × Fem! Reader

Warning: Smut, Theft, deception.

Author's Notes: I put a ton of effort into this one, so fingers crossed you guys enjoy it as much as I do! As always, your feedback is super appreciated!

Also read on Ao3

Hans Gruber chuckled darkly as he leaned back against the leather seat of the getaway car, the mask he had worn during the heist now discarded on the floor. The exhilaration of their recent robbery coursed through him, a heady mixture of adrenaline and satisfaction. Around him, his comrades examined the various bags of jewelry they had pilfered, the precious stones glinting in the dim light of the vehicle. The heist had gone off without a hitch, and the police were none the wiser, left chasing shadows as Hans and his crew made their escape.

“Look at this beauty,” one of the men, Dieter, exclaimed, holding up a necklace encrusted with diamonds. He let out a low whistle, his eyes gleaming with admiration. “My girl’s going to love this.”

Hans raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips as he considered Dieter’s request. “Ja, just one,” he replied smoothly, his accent a polished German that rolled off his tongue with a natural ease. “But make sure it’s something that won’t be missed. We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention, understood?”

Dieter nodded eagerly, tucking the necklace into his jacket with a grin. “Got it, boss,” he said, his voice laced with excitement. “She’ll never know where it came from.”

Another of the crew, Karl, laughed as he examined a pair of sapphire earrings, their deep blue stones catching the light. “Hey, Hans,” he called out, his voice teasing. “What about you? Shouldn’t you take something for your girl too? Bet she’d love a bit of sparkle.”

Hans’s expression softened slightly at the mention of you. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he considered Karl’s suggestion. You were blissfully unaware of his true profession, believing him to be a successful investor who made his money through savvy dealings and market acumen. It was a carefully crafted facade, one that Hans maintained with meticulous precision. The idea of giving you a gift—a tangible reminder of his affection—held a certain appeal, even if it came from ill-gotten gains.

“Perhaps,” Hans mused, his voice a low, contemplative murmur. He picked up a delicate bracelet from the pile, its slender chain adorned with small, glimmering diamonds. The piece was exquisite, subtle enough to avoid suspicion yet elegant enough to reflect your taste. He turned it over in his hand, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “She would appreciate something like this.”

Karl grinned, nudging another member of the crew with his elbow. “See? Even Hans has a soft spot,” he said with a chuckle. “Guess everyone likes to spoil their ladies a bit.”

Hans shot Karl a warning glance, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Enough,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. “Remember, discretion is key. We cannot afford to be reckless with our spoils.”

The crew nodded in agreement, their laughter fading into a more subdued appreciation of their haul. Hans leaned back again, his thoughts drifting to you as he considered the bracelet in his hand. You were the one person who brought a touch of normalcy to his otherwise tumultuous life, a beacon of light in the shadows he navigated so deftly. The idea of you wearing a piece of jewelry from this heist, oblivious to its true origins, was both ironic and oddly fitting.

Later that evening, after the crew had dispersed and the spoils were safely hidden away, Hans returned to his luxurious penthouse apartment. The city lights glittered outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a shimmering glow over the sleek, modern furnishings. Hans moved with a practiced grace, pouring himself a glass of fine cognac as he waited for you to arrive.

You had called earlier, excited to spend time with your busy boyfriend. The anticipation in your voice had been palpable, and Hans had smiled at the thought of surprising you with the bracelet.

When you finally arrived, your eyes lit up at the sight of him, your smile warm and genuine as you crossed the room to greet him. “Hans,” you murmured, your voice soft with affection as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

Hans’s expression softened, a genuine warmth in his eyes as he held you close, his fingers brushing lightly over your back. “And I, you,” he replied, his voice a smooth, cultured purr. He pulled back slightly, his gaze lingering on your face before he reached into his jacket pocket, producing the bracelet with a flourish. “I have something for you, meine Liebe. A little token of my affection.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as you took in the delicate piece of jewelry, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached out to take it. “Hans, it’s beautiful,” you breathed, your voice tinged with awe as you turned the bracelet over in your hands. “You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” Hans interrupted gently, his eyes locking with yours as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist. The sight of it against your skin sent a thrill of satisfaction through him, the symbol of his affection blending seamlessly with the facade he had so carefully constructed. “It suits you perfectly.”

You examined the bracelet Hans had given you, its slender chain adorned with glimmering diamonds. Your breath caught in your throat as the reality of the gift sank in. These were real diamonds, not the imitation jewelry you might find in a typical store. The thought of how much it must have cost sent a shiver of disbelief through you.

“Hans,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze, “this is… it’s real, isn’t it? Real diamonds?”

Hans’s smile faltered slightly as he watched you, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “Yes, of course,” he replied smoothly, his German accent lending a cultured elegance to his words. “Only the best for you, meine Liebe.”

You shook your head, your fingers trembling as you unclasped the bracelet and handed it back to him. “I can’t accept this,” you murmured, your voice filled with a mixture of awe and apprehension. “It must have cost a fortune. I could never afford something like this, and I don’t want you to spend so much on me. It’s too much.”

Hans’s brow furrowed as he took the bracelet, his eyes narrowing in a blend of confusion and mild frustration. “Nonsense,” he said firmly, his voice a low, soothing murmur as he stepped closer, the warmth of his body radiating against yours. “It’s just a token of my affection. The cost is irrelevant. What matters is that it brings you joy.”

You bit your lip, glancing down at the delicate piece of jewelry in his hands. The idea of wearing something so extravagant, knowing how much it must have cost, felt overwhelming. “But Hans,” you protested softly, looking up to meet his gaze, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to buy me expensive things. I love you for who you are, not for what you can give me. This… it’s just too much.”

Hans’s expression softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “Meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a tender, reassuring whisper, “you worry too much. This is nothing compared to the joy you bring into my life. I want to see you adorned in beauty because that’s how I see you—every day, every moment.”

You felt your resolve waver, his words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Still, the thought of accepting such an expensive gift left you feeling uneasy. “But it’s so expensive,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you glanced back at the bracelet. “I could never repay you for something like this.”

Hans chuckled softly, a rich, velvety sound that sent a shiver of warmth through you. “Repay me?” he echoed, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “Oh, my darling, you’ve already given me more than you can imagine. Your presence, your love… those are priceless to me. This bracelet is a mere trinket in comparison.”

His lips brushed against your ear, sending a delicious thrill through you as he murmured, “Let me spoil you, just this once. Wear it for me. Show me how beautiful you can be, adorned in diamonds.”

Your breath hitched at the seductive tone in his voice, the warmth of his breath against your skin igniting a spark of desire deep within you. The way he looked at you, his eyes dark with a mix of affection and barely restrained passion, made it hard to refuse him. “Hans,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of reluctance and longing, “I… I don’t know.”

Hans’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his fingers trailing down your side in a slow, deliberate caress that sent a shiver of anticipation through you. “Trust me, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. “Let me adorn you with this gift. Let me see you wearing it, and nothing else.”

You gasped softly, the raw intensity in his eyes sending a rush of heat through your body. The thought of wearing the bracelet, and only the bracelet, while Hans’s gaze devoured you, was both thrilling and intimidating. Your heart raced as you nodded slowly, your breath catching in your throat. “Alright,” you whispered, your voice a breathless murmur as you met his gaze. “But only because you want me to.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Hans’s lips as he clasped the bracelet around your wrist once more, the cool metal resting against your skin. His fingers brushed over your pulse, sending a delicious tingle up your arm as he stepped back to admire you. “Perfect,” he murmured, his voice a rough, appreciative growl as his eyes roamed over your body. “You’re breathtaking.”

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure warming your skin. The way he looked at you, his eyes dark with a fierce, unyielding desire, made you feel both vulnerable and incredibly powerful. You shifted slightly, the cool metal of the bracelet a tangible reminder of his affection as you met his gaze with a tentative smile. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “For everything.”

Hans’s smile softened, a flicker of genuine warmth in his eyes as he stepped closer, his fingers trailing lightly over your arm. “You’re welcome, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, tender whisper as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck in a gentle kiss. “Now, let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

His hands slid down your sides, his touch firm and possessive as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your skin. The intensity in his eyes, the raw hunger that burned in his gaze, sent a shiver of anticipation through you as he whispered, “Tonight, you’re mine. Every inch of you, adorned in diamonds, belongs to me.”

You gasped softly, the heat of his words sending a delicious thrill through your body as you melted into his embrace, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and longing. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice a soft, breathless murmur as you looked up at him. “I’m yours, Hans. All yours.”

But Hans suddenly released you, a playful glint in his eyes as he stepped back, the warmth of his embrace lingering on your skin. His smile turned mischievous, a sharp contrast to the intensity of his previous words. “Patience, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a soft, teasing purr. “All in good time. For now, I must prepare dinner.”

You blinked in surprise, a pout forming on your lips as you looked up at him. “Hans, you can’t just leave me hanging like this,” you protested, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and longing.

Hans chuckled, the sound a rich, velvety caress as he ran a hand through his dark hair, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “I enjoy playing with you,” he replied smoothly, his German accent lending a cultured elegance to his words. “And anticipation, my dear, can be its own kind of pleasure. Now, be a good girl and wait for me in the living room.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you met his gaze with a look of playful exasperation. “Do I at least get to help? Or am I just supposed to sit there and look pretty?”

Hans’s smile widened, a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he stepped closer, his fingers trailing lightly over your arm. “Tonight, your only task is to look pretty and relax,” he said softly, his voice a gentle murmur as he brushed a kiss against your forehead. “Let me take care of everything else. It’s my way of spoiling you, remember?”

You sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips as you nodded. “Alright, fine,” you conceded, your tone tinged with a hint of playfulness. “But don’t keep me waiting too long, Hans.”

Hans’s eyes darkened with a promise of later delights as he took a step back, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the intricate tattoo on his forearm—a design that held personal significance for him, though he had never shared its meaning with you. “I won’t,” he assured you, his voice a low, seductive growl as he turned towards the open kitchen. “Now, go on. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

You watched as he tied an apron around his waist, the sight of him preparing to cook adding a touch of domesticity to the otherwise sophisticated atmosphere of the penthouse. With a soft sigh, you turned and made your way to the living room, settling onto the plush sofa as you reached for the remote, flicking on the TV.

The evening news filled the screen, the anchor’s voice a steady drone as they recounted the day’s events. You barely paid attention, your thoughts drifting back to Hans and the promise of what was to come. But a particular story caught your ear, drawing your gaze to the screen.

“Tonight’s top story: A daring robbery at a high-end jewelry store leaves authorities baffled,” the anchor reported, her tone grave as she described the heist. “Masked men made off with a significant haul of valuable items, including rare diamonds and precious gemstones. The police are investigating, but so far, no leads on the identity of the perpetrators.”

Your eyes widened slightly at the mention of the robbery, a flicker of unease stirring in your chest as you glanced down at the bracelet Hans had given you. The delicate chain, the glimmering diamonds… They were exquisite, certainly, but you had never considered their origin. The connection between the news report and the bracelet on your wrist didn’t quite register, your thoughts too focused on the evening with Hans to draw any conclusions.

Shaking off the unease, you turned your attention back to the TV, trying to immerse yourself in the light chatter of the evening program. The sound of Hans moving in the kitchen, the clink of dishes and the soft hum of his voice as he prepared dinner, was a comforting backdrop, grounding you in the moment.

After what felt like an eternity, though it was likely only a short while, Hans called from the kitchen, his voice rich with a teasing lilt. “Dinner is served, meine Liebe. Join me, won’t you?”

You smiled, the anticipation that had been simmering within you reigniting as you rose from the sofa and made your way to the dining area. The table was set with elegant simplicity, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm, intimate light over the polished wood. Hans stood by the stove, his sleeves still rolled up, a satisfied smile on his lips as he turned to greet you.

“Everything smells wonderful,” you said, your voice filled with genuine appreciation as you took in the sight of the carefully prepared dishes. “You’ve outdone yourself, Hans.”

Hans’s smile widened, a flicker of pride in his eyes as he set the final dish on the table, gesturing for you to take a seat. “Only the best for you,” he replied smoothly, his accent a soft, cultured murmur as he poured you a glass of wine, the rich, ruby liquid catching the candlelight. “I hope you enjoy it.”

You settled into your chair, your gaze lingering on Hans as he took his place across from you, his eyes dark and warm as he watched you. The meal was exquisite, each bite a testament to Hans’s culinary skill and his dedication to making the evening special for you.

As you savored the flavors, the earlier news report faded from your mind, replaced by the warmth of Hans’s presence and the promise of the night ahead. The bracelet on your wrist glinted in the candlelight, a silent testament to Hans’s affection, its true origins still a mystery you were blissfully unaware of.

Hans raised his glass, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of affection and intensity. “To us,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl that sent a shiver of anticipation through you. “And to many more evenings like this.”

You smiled, lifting your glass to clink it against his, the warmth of his gaze and the richness of his voice filling you with a deep, abiding contentment. “To us,” you echoed softly, your voice filled with a genuine affection as you met his gaze. “And to the wonderful surprises you always bring into my life.”

Later that night, after the plates were cleared and the last of the wine was sipped, Hans led you to the bedroom with a palpable air of anticipation. The candlelight flickered, casting playful shadows on the walls, creating an intimate ambiance that contrasted starkly with the intensity of Hans's touch. The elegance of the evening was about to give way to the raw, unrestrained passion that simmered beneath his refined exterior.

Hans’s hands were firm as he gripped your hips, his eyes dark with desire as he guided you to the bed. The delicate bracelet still glinted on your wrist, a symbol of the duality of the man who now loomed over you. “Meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl thick with his German accent, “it’s time for the main course.”

He pulled you into a fierce, hungry kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your body, rough and insistent, as he pushed you down onto the bed. You felt the cool air against your skin as he stripped away your clothing, each piece discarded with a careless ease that spoke of his impatience.

With one hand, Hans gripped your hip, holding you in place as he positioned himself between your legs. The other hand tangled in your hair, pulling you back to arch against him, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered in your ear, “You’re mine tonight, every inch of you. Do you understand?”

You nodded, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you felt the hard length of him pressing against your entrance. “Yes, Hans,” you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I’m yours. All yours.”

A dark, satisfied smile spread across his lips as he thrust into you, his cock filling you with a powerful, claiming motion that left you gasping. “Good girl,” he growled, his voice thick with a primal, unyielding desire. “Take me. Take every inch of me.”

Hans was relentless, his thrusts hard and deep, each movement a fierce, demanding claim on your body. His hand on your hip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he drove into you with a rough, unrestrained passion. The pain mingled with pleasure, sending shivers of sensation through your body as you arched against him, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

“Scheiße,” he muttered under his breath, his voice a rough, guttural whisper as he watched you. “You feel so good, meine Liebe. So tight around me.”

His hand in your hair tugged harder, pulling your head back to expose your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin with a delicious mix of pain and pleasure. “You like this, don’t you?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “You like it when I’m rough with you. When I fuck you hard and make you scream my name.”

You could only moan in response, the intensity of his thrusts driving coherent thought from your mind. The feel of his cock stretching you, filling you completely, was overwhelming, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. “Yes, Hans,” you gasped, your voice a desperate, breathless plea. “Please, don’t stop. Fuck me harder.”

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest as he obliged, his pace quickening, his thrusts growing more urgent. “That’s it, meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. “Take it. Take all of me. You’re mine. Only mine.”

The room was filled with the sounds of your combined pleasure, the raw, primal rhythm of his body against yours driving you both towards release. Hans’s growls of satisfaction, your gasps and moans, the slap of skin against skin—all merged into a symphony of unrestrained desire.

You felt the pressure building within you, each thrust pushing you closer to the brink. Your body trembled, your fingers clenching the sheets as you teetered on the edge of climax. “Hans,” you sobbed, your voice a desperate, pleading cry. “I’m going to—”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a rough, primal growl as he drove into you with a final, powerful thrust. “Come for me now, meine Liebe.”

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with the intensity of your release. You screamed his name, the sound echoing in the room as pleasure rippled through you in overwhelming waves.

Hans's grip on your hips tightened as you rode the waves of your climax, the intensity of your release leaving you gasping and trembling beneath him. His dark eyes gleamed with a fierce, possessive hunger as he watched you, his expression a blend of satisfaction and unrestrained desire. The rough cadence of his breath and the flush of heat on his skin mirrored the primal urgency of the moment, a raw testament to the depth of his need for you.

As your body convulsed with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Hans’s hands slid down to grasp your thighs, his touch firm and demanding. He pulled your legs up, positioning them over his shoulders with a deft, practiced motion. The shift in angle sent a jolt of fresh sensation through you, your overstimulated body responding with a renewed burst of pleasure.

"Look at you," Hans growled, his voice a rough, seductive whisper thick with his German accent, the rich tones rolling off his tongue like dark honey. "So pliant, so ready for me. Do you know how much I love seeing you like this? Completely at my mercy."

You could only moan in response, your limbs limp and flexible from the intensity of your climax, the sensation of his cock buried deep within you pushing you to the brink of another orgasm. Your body arched instinctively towards him, your fingers curling into the sheets as he began to move, each thrust a powerful, demanding claim on your pleasure.

Hans's lips curled into a wicked smile as he watched you, the fierce, unyielding hunger in his gaze sending shivers of anticipation through you. "That's it," he murmured, his voice a low, rough purr as he adjusted his grip on your legs, holding you open for him. "Take me. Take every inch of me. You belong to me, and tonight, I’m going to show you just how much."

With a growl of satisfaction, he drove into you with a force that left you gasping, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your already sensitive body. The angle, the intensity, the roughness of his movements—all combined to create a symphony of sensation that had you crying out in ecstasy, your voice a breathless plea as you clung to the sheets.

“Scheiße,” Hans muttered under his breath, his eyes darkening with a fierce, unrestrained desire as he watched you. “You feel so good, meine Liebe. So tight and wet. Every time I’m inside you, it feels like I’m losing control. Like I’m drowning in you.”

Your breath came in short, uneven gasps, each thrust driving you closer to the edge once more. The rough friction of his cock against your inner walls, the feel of his hands gripping your thighs, the raw intensity in his gaze—all combined to push you to the brink of another climax. “Hans,” you sobbed, your voice a desperate, breathless cry. “Please… I can’t… I’m going to—”

“Come for me,” Hans commanded, his voice a rough, primal growl as he drove into you with a renewed urgency, his movements growing more frantic, more demanding. “Come for me again, meine Liebe. Let me feel you fall apart around me.”

With a final, powerful thrust, Hans pushed you over the edge once more, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of overwhelming pleasure. Your body convulsed, your cries of ecstasy filling the room as you clung to the sheets, the intensity of your release leaving you trembling and breathless beneath him.

Hans’s growl of satisfaction was a low, primal sound as he felt you clenching around him, the sensation driving him to the brink of his own climax. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice a rough, guttural whisper as he buried himself deep inside you, his movements growing more urgent, more insistent with each passing moment. “You’re mine, meine Liebe. All mine.”

The feel of his cock pulsing inside you, the raw intensity of his thrusts, the way his hands gripped your thighs with a possessive force—it was all too much. Your body arched instinctively towards him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you teetered on the edge of yet another climax.

Hans’s gaze darkened, a fierce, unyielding hunger burning in his eyes as he watched you, his breath hot against your skin. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough purr as he drove into you with a final, powerful thrust. “So beautiful, so perfect. You belong to me, meine Liebe. Only to me.”

With a growl of satisfaction, Hans reached his own climax, his body tensing as he buried himself deep inside you, his release a powerful, overwhelming surge that left him gasping and trembling with the intensity of his pleasure. The feel of his cock pulsing inside you, the way his hands gripped your thighs with a bruising force, the raw, unrestrained passion in his gaze—it was all too much, driving you to the brink of yet another orgasm.

Your cries of ecstasy mingled with his growls of satisfaction, the room filled with the sounds of your combined pleasure as you clung to each other, the intensity of the moment binding you together in a raw, primal dance of unrestrained desire.

In the aftermath, as the echoes of your release faded and the room fell into a hushed, intimate silence, Hans’s hands slid down to cradle your legs, his touch gentle and soothing as he lowered them from his shoulders. His breath came in short, uneven gasps, his eyes dark with a lingering hunger as he watched you, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his lips.

“Meine Liebe,” he murmured, his voice a low, tender whisper as he leaned in to brush a kiss against your forehead. “You were incredible. Absolutely breathtaking.”

You could only nod, your breath still coming in short, ragged gasps as you clung to him, the warmth of his body a comforting presence against yours. “Hans,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of exhaustion and lingering desire. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Hans’s smile softened, a flicker of genuine warmth in his eyes as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice a gentle, reassuring murmur. “Just rest, meine Liebe. Tonight, you’re mine. All mine.”

As you lay there in his arms, the warmth of his embrace a comforting balm to your exhausted body, you couldn’t help but feel a deep, abiding contentment. The intensity of the evening, the raw, unrestrained passion you had shared—it was a testament to the depth of your connection, a reminder of the fierce, unyielding bond that bound you together.

And as you drifted into a deep, restful sleep, the last thing you felt was the gentle brush of Hans’s lips against your forehead, a silent promise of his unwavering affection and the raw, unrestrained desire that burned between you.

Hans lay beside you, his chest rising and falling with each measured breath as he tried to calm down from his own powerful climax. The room was filled with the lingering scent of sweat and sex, the heat of your bodies mingling in the intimate aftermath of your lovemaking. One arm rested behind his head, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he savored the contentment that settled over him, the raw, unrestrained passion of the evening still thrumming in his veins.

For a moment, Hans allowed himself the luxury of stillness, the steady rhythm of your breathing a soothing counterpoint to his own rapid heartbeat. His eyes softened as he looked at you, your features relaxed in sleep, the delicate bracelet still gleaming on your wrist—a silent reminder of the world outside this intimate sanctuary.

The serenity was short-lived, however, as the sharp trill of his cell phone pierced the quiet. Hans’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as he reached over to the nightstand, fishing out the cigarette and lighter he had stashed away earlier. With practiced ease, he lit the cigarette, the flare of the flame casting brief, dancing shadows on the walls. The phone’s persistent ring continued, a reminder of the world that demanded his attention.

Exhaling a stream of smoke, Hans picked up the phone, his expression shifting to one of focused intensity as he glanced at the caller ID. This was the call he had been waiting for. Rising from the bed with a fluid grace that belied the weight of his actions, Hans moved towards the porch, the cool night air brushing against his bare skin as he stepped outside. The cigarette glowed faintly in the darkness, a solitary beacon in the muted light of the cityscape that stretched out below.

Ignoring his naked state, Hans answered the call, his voice slipping effortlessly into a polished French accent as he spoke. “Bonsoir,” he greeted smoothly, the German undertones of his natural voice masked by the refined lilt of his chosen guise. “I trust everything is in order?”

The voice on the other end was clipped, efficient, tinged with a barely concealed eagerness. “Monsieur Lacroix,” the buyer replied, using the alias Hans had provided. “Everything is set. We have the funds ready, but we need to confirm the authenticity of the items before we proceed.”

Hans’s lips curled into a knowing smile, the cigarette held between his fingers as he leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the glittering expanse of the city below. “But of course,” he purred, his tone one of practiced reassurance. “You will find everything to be in perfect order. The pieces are exquisite, and I assure you, they are worth every penny of your investment.”

The buyer hesitated, a flicker of doubt in his voice. “You understand, Monsieur Lacroix, that our associates are quite… particular about such transactions. Any discrepancy could be costly.”

Hans’s eyes narrowed, his smile turning sharp as he took another drag from the cigarette, the smoke curling lazily into the night air. “Rest assured, there will be no discrepancies,” he replied, his voice carrying a quiet, dangerous authority that brooked no argument. “The items are authentic, and the transaction will proceed as planned. You will have your jewels, and I will have my payment. Agreed?”

There was a brief pause, the weight of Hans’s words hanging heavy in the air before the buyer responded, his tone one of reluctant acquiescence. “Agreed. We will finalize the details tomorrow. Ensure the items are ready for inspection.”

Hans’s smile widened, a flicker of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he exhaled a final stream of smoke, crushing the cigarette underfoot. “Très bien,” he said softly, his voice a silken caress as he ended the call. “I look forward to our continued partnership.”

With a casual flick of his wrist, Hans tossed the phone onto the nearby table, his thoughts already shifting to the logistics of the exchange. The jewelry, currently hidden away in a secure location, would be laundered through a series of carefully orchestrated transactions, each layer adding to the complexity of the web he had woven. The buyer, an intermediary for a network of high-end collectors, would provide the necessary funds, which Hans would then channel through his intricate network, transforming the illicit profits into clean, untraceable assets.

Returning to the bedroom, Hans’s gaze softened as he took in the sight of you, still sleeping peacefully amidst the rumpled sheets. The contrast between the ruthless efficiency of his dealings and the tender warmth he felt for you was stark, a reminder of the duality that defined his existence. He moved silently, his bare feet making no sound on the polished wood floor as he approached the bed, his eyes lingering on the delicate bracelet that adorned your wrist.

Carefully, Hans slid back into the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight as he pulled you into his arms, his touch gentle and possessive. The cool metal of the bracelet brushed against his skin, a tangible connection between the world of shadows he navigated and the light you brought into his life.

“Meine Liebe,” he murmured softly, his voice a low, tender whisper as he pressed a kiss to your temple, the warmth of your body a comforting presence against his. “Sleep well. Tomorrow, we face the world together.”

As you nestled closer, your breathing steady and even in the embrace of sleep, Hans allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection. The path he walked was fraught with danger, each step a careful balance between the persona he presented to the world and the ruthless ambition that drove him. But here, in the quiet sanctuary of your shared bed, he found a measure of peace, a fleeting glimpse of the man he might have been, had circumstances been different.

And as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, casting a pale glow over the city that lay beneath him, Hans tightened his hold on you, his thoughts already turning to the challenges of the day ahead. The heist, the buyer, the intricate dance of deception and strategy—it was all part of the game he played, a game where the stakes were high and the rewards even higher.

But for now, in this moment, he allowed himself the luxury of simply holding you, the warmth of your body a balm to the shadows that lingered at the edges of his mind.

Translations:

1. Ja – Yes (German)

2. Meine Liebe – My love (German)

3. Bonsoir – Good evening (French)

4. Monsieur Lacroix – Mr. Lacroix (French)

5. Mais bien sûr – But of course (French)

6. Très bien – Very well (French)

7. Scheiße – Shit (German)

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #hans gruber x reader #hans gruber #die hard

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