#king schultz x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purplelupins · 2 years

Text

Rapture

Part II

Summery: A call from a friend needing a favour would turn into the biggest opportunity of your life. You can’t help but hand on for dear life along the way, but the held you get from a new acquaintance serves to pull you through it.

Pairing: Christoph Waltz x fem!reader

Warnings: Reader has anxiety, age-gap, suggestive conversations but nothing explicit, kissing ***The 3rd part will be NSFW so please proceed with caution. DNI if you are a minor!

Note: warnings will change for each part so please read them. This is the most self-indulgent piece of writing I have ever made. I can’t write a summery to save my life.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your hands began to curl against themselves as you stared up at the bright tv screen. Even from backstage, you could hear the laughter of the audience, and it only made the butterflies in your stomach take flight. Your jaw clenched and unclenched; every hair seemed to tickle and irritate you. It was like your nerves had a mind of their own.

The intern clipping your microphone to your beautiful black dress quickly left the room. As soon as you heard the click of the door, you let out a long breath; ever since completing the film, you had been coached on public appearances, which included even the smallest interactions. So now as you sat without the public eye, you let yourself spiral a little.

You were sitting, waiting to be called into the orange and purple set to be interviewed for the first time. In hopes of elevating some stress, you closed your eyes. You half wished you were able to ease into the promotion with a smaller, less known talk-show, but no.

No your first interview was going to be on the Graham Northam Show.

“Fräulein?”

A slow sigh left you as you opened your eyes to see green ones staring back.

“Ah, there you are,” Christoph said, crouched in front of you, “Eyes on me. Deep breath in, yes?” He murmured, taking an exaggerated breath. A small smile graced your nervous face as you followed his lead.

This had become a common practice between the two of you since becoming co-stars. Just as he had been on the set of Inglorious Bastards, Christoph was often kept away from the rest of the cast so as to build the air of mystery around his enigmatic character. However, much to your surprise and panic, Tarantino had told and encouraged the two of you to spend as much off time together as you could.

While it petrified you at first, Christoph was quick to make you feel at ease. You knew he was a self-proclaimed snob -his words, not yours- but it seemed that he toned that specific nature down a notch or two when around you when your anxiety was high. Which was often.

He was a true gentleman, if you were honest.

“Can you take another breath, please?” He asked you, waiting patiently while you did as he asked.

“Thank you, Mr. Waltz…” You said as your last deep breath hissed from your lips.

He waved a hand and tsked you, “I won’t stand to have your first interview ruined by those nerves of yours. That’s the hosts job.” He said dryly.

You let out a little laugh, ignoring the blush on your cheeks as he took your hand.

“Does your hand hurt?” He asked, rubbing a circle around the scar by your knuckle.

“A little sore…definitely better than five months ago.” You said with a laugh, “How are your-“ you tapped your ear with your free hand and nodded to the almost invisible wire disappearing into his ear canal; his hearing aids.

“Good. Don’t blame me if I turn them off though.” He joked. You smiled and nodded.

Christoph clapped a hand onto your hand and stood, “Now I think we are going to be on soon- ah.” He said, acknowledging the assistant the opened the door as soon as he spoke.

“Mr. Waltz, Ms. l/n, if you’ll follow me?” They said.

“Bereit?(Ready?)” Christoph asked you, fully waiting until you spoke to move.

With one more deep breath, you said “Yes.”

The two of you followed the assistant down the hall to the flank of the stage. The sound of Graham Norton’s voice greated you as you stood there. Your mind began to reel as you remembered where you were.

How many times had you watched this program?

Laughed at people mocking Graham’s laugh or commenting on the state of the red couch?

Your throat felt dry.

But just as you started to clench your jaw, you felt a warm hand slip into yours and offer a small squeeze.

“Unclench.” He murmured gently.

You laughed softly, and saw him smirk from the corner of your eye.

“-But first, we have the cast of the most anticipated comedy noir of the year. You may know him best for his roles in Inglorious Bastards, Django Unchained, or Sepectre. He is a two time Oscar winner with a wit that will make you cry; please welcome Christoph Waltz!”

The assistant next to the both of you gave Christoph the sign to go, and as he took a step, he cast you a look of encouragement. You watched as he disappeared up the stairs, and he was greeted with a roar of applause.

You heard him being welcomed, and slowly the cheering died down. Then, your nerves came back tenfold when you heard the host once again.

“Now, the second part, and dare I say much prettier part-“ the audience laughed, “- of this duo may not be known to many of you. This is her first film, but most certainly not the last; please welcome the lovely y/n l/n!”

Just as they had with Christoph, they gave you the signal to go, and just like that, your ears ceased to work. The sound of the audience was deafening as the stage lights blinded you.

You waved to the audience, and yourheart beat in your ears, but you did your best to muster the dazzling smile you had been coached on, and shook the hand of the world renowned Talkshow host. Then, as he spoke, your hearing came back.

“Welcome, please take a seat, get comfortable!” Graham said joyfully as he shook your hand and held his arm out for you to follow Christoph to the red couch.

You gave him another smile and said, “Thank you so much.”

As you crossed to sit next to Christoph, he stood politely, and gestured next to him. The sofa beneath you had definitely seen better days, and the lack of back made you sit up straight.

You took a few more deep breaths, and cast a look over to Christoph who was clearly more comfortable than yourself. He gave you a charming smile and shifted in his seat as you both turned to look out at the audience who continued to clap. You then shifted your gaze to look up at the host who had yet to sit as he too clapped, nodding along with the audience.

“Hello hello!” He said, finally taking his seat. You were closest to him, and had to admit that his friendly demeanour put you at ease, “Welcome! Welcome back Christoph, such a pleasure to have you here again.”

“Thank you.! Good to be back.” Christoph said with a polite nod.

“And Y/n you’ve never been on the show at all, I don’t believe.” Graham said, leaning towards you a little.

You held your hands tightly in your lap, but your smile would never give away your nerves. “You’re quite right. This is actually my first interview ever!” You chimed.

Graham nodded enthusiastically, “What an honour to have you then.” He said, then he leaned a little closer as if to tell you something private, “Now, I must confess something to the both of you.” His tone was mock-serious.

You nodded and could feel Christoph lean against you, presumably to listen. Regardless of the reason you were elated.

Graham looked out at the audience then back to you with a shy, mischievous expression, “I don’t want you to think we don’t know how to work our equipment…” he began, “…But I think there was a technical issue with your mics, because it seemed that they picked up a rather sweet moment between you two backstage.”

You looked back at Christoph who looked at you, his face neutral as he shrugged, but your brows rose and your cheeks burned uncontrollably. It seemed that it only spurred the excited audience on as they began to “Aww”

“Are you alright?” Graham asked, knowing your were embarrassed as you hid your face in your hands.

Christoph placed a reassuring hand on your back, which helped you to sit tall again and take a breath. “Yes, I think I’ll survive.”

Graham laughed gently, his eyes sympathetic to let you know he wasn’t mocking you.

“And by the way Christoph, I did take offence to your comment about the host ruining the interview.” He said, leaning past you a little to see the man next to you.

Christoph just shifted and shrugged a shoulder, “Well it seems that everything is going according to plan.” He replied with that dry wit you loved. You both laughed softly, your eyes crinkling at the sides. Graham joined in with that signature laugh you had giggled at many times.

You continued to speak, knowing you were there for a reason and you weren’t going to be a boring guest. “ I have quite bad anxiety, and Mr. Waltz, being the kind gentleman he is, has truly been my knight in shining armour since joining the film. He’s been very good at calming my nerves.” You surprised even yourself with how composed your here able to make yourself seem.

Graham, being the humorous pervert he is, raised his eyebrows at the mention of Christoph calming your nerves, “Hello.” He chimed, and laughed with the audience.

You, once again, blushed, but the man was quick to move on. His comedic timing was always your favourite.

“And I heard you speaking a little German to one another. I’ve heard that you’ve been learning German on set is that right?” Graham asked, curious.

Your mouth fell open, and no words came out as Christoph leaned over to you to join the conversation and said, shocked, “You told me you learned German in Highschool.”

You looked to him, and tried to laugh it off before sighing and nodding in agreement with the host’s statement, “I…I have. I thought it would be nice if Mr. Waltz could speak his mother tongue on set….so I stared teach myself German.” You said looking down at your hands then back up to Graham.

“Oh yes I’m sure he’s good with his tongue.” He teased, which only served to make you blushed again, but you smiled to hide your embarrassment. “Alright let’s leave the poor girl alone for a while,” he turned his attention then to Christoph, who still sat quite close to you, though he had removed his hand from your back, “Now Christoph, I understand you are back into your usual role as a villain in this new film, Rapture, is that right?”

You leaned back a little to look at your co-star, curious to see how he answered. Christoph absorbed the question and thought for half a second.

“Well…no.” He said a matter-of-factly, “My character is more of a love-sick puppy with good manners, strong morals, and stunning suits.” A charming smile graced his handsome face as he answered. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face as he spoke. He was right about his character, after all; Maximilian was exactly a love sick puppy.

Graham burst into surprised laughter and looked even more curious, “Are we both speaking about the same film? Maybe you both did a secret film I’m not aware of…?”

When you looked back at Christoph, who only gazed back at you , you smiled again and decided to help out, “I have to agree with Mr. Waltz…Maximilian and my character, Lena, are both a little off kilter but just two people in love. Lena gets wrapped up in this eccentric man’s life who just so happens to be a renowned killer…who is afraid of blood.” You said with a little laugh.

Graham looked between the two of you, then to the audience as if to confirm what he had heard. “I’m sorry what? Afraid of…”

“Blood yes.” Christoph smiled with a satisfied nod and a light chuckle.

“I see…” The host said slowly.

You continued, “ And so she becomes a part of his life in a way…but she sort of starts to see his side of things and they start to fall into this morbid codependent relationship.” You finished with a small smile.

“Sounds like my usual Friday nights!” Graham said, earning a laugh from the audience, “Now I have to ask, because I think the last time you were on the show Christoph I asked this too, but did either of you sustain any injuries?” Graham asked, crossing a leg over the other.

Christoph shook his head “Thankfully no physical wounds. Psychological, perhaps.” They all laughed a little. “I believe you hurt your hand quite badly, didn’t you Fräulein?” Christoph asked, feigning innocence when you blushed and looked away from him.

You nodded and tried to focus on your hand, “Yes…there’s one scene that you’ll see in the film where Mr. Waltz’s character and mine are at a peak of their relationship-“

Graham shot you a suggestive look and you sputtered, only resulting in the audience laughing again.

You waved your hands, “-No! No nothing like that.” You tried to recover, “No, but there is an argument and in the heat of the moment…I punched the wall and almost shattered my hand. I think it’s almost a tradition on a Tarantino film- just look at Leo in Django!” You tried to play it off like you were flooded with filthy images of your co-star.

“She does have a hard punch.” Christoph added quietly with a smirk.

You gasp,“I never hit you that hard.”

Christoph waved a dismissive hand at your shocked look with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Oh any touch of yours was welcome.” He said, adding a charming grin at the end; you bit the inside of your cheek and looked at Graham, only to see him fanning himself animatedly with his cards; looking out at the audience- they laughed and Graham took a moment to clear his throat before continuing.

“Shall we all leave?” He asked, “ I feel like we’re intruding.” He gestured to you and Christoph.

Again, you all had a good laugh, which helped the interview along.

“Well now I have to ask, how was it filming with each other? Y/n I know this was your first big film, was it intimidating to work with such a star-studded cast?” Graham asked, leaning back in his seat.

You relaxed into the couch, and thought for a moment.

“Oh I don’t think I said more than two words to Mr. Waltz until he all but cornered me and asked about my anxiety,” You said with a small laugh looking back at Christoph who listened to you as you spoke, “But after I think the first week, I got used to it. They were all very lovely, honestly!” You said.

“Even the infamous grouch next to you?” The Irishman asked cheekily from behind his cards.

“Especially him.” You said plainly. “The other person I worked with a bit was Tim Roth, and he was good fun.” You smiled.

However, only Graham saw the colder expression on Christoph’s face at the mention of the other man.

Graham smiled wickedly, “Now you two seem to get along quite well, just as your characters do onscreen.” He gestured animatedly between the two of you, “Are you aware of the cult following this film has? You two have quite the fanbase.”

Christoph’s brows pinched together, “The film is barely out.” He seemed genuinely surprised.

Graham was positively giddy to see the two of you shocked, and - on your part- embarrassed. “Oh you’re right, but regardless you two have started to have quite the fan base from just the trailer and released clips alone.”

You looked at Graham, confused. You knew what a fanbase was- hell, you were a part of a few yourself, but you where having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that people were actual fans of yours. “W-what do you mean?” You asked, a little nervously.

“Means they want you two to bone, my dear.” Graham said factually. The audience laughed, and you exchange a look with Christoph who showed little emotion aside from a raised brow. But you knew better; you knew he was amused.

“Now y/n, I believe you were not actually a part of the original cast, is that right?” Graham asked, pointing at you with a card.

“Yes,” You breathed out, “It was a bit of a whirlwind…it all happened very fast. But I WAS working on set previously.”

“Oh? Do tell. This seems like a story within a story! I don’t know what I want to know more about- this or Rapture.” He said with a laugh, and the audience joined.

You looked to Christoph again, and he flicked his eyes from Graham to you, and your cheeks warmed again. Then you looked away before you could fully blush.

“It was all because of a friend of mine needing a favour, really.” You began, smiling as you thought about how such a silly thing changed your life, “I was working as an assistant to the costuming department, and so I essentially would patch up any tears, or missing buttons- the real work was left to the more experienced crew. But as you already exposed, I had learned a little German in case I ever interacted with the esteemed gentleman to my left…and it seemed that it came in handy.” You laughed, and heard Christoph chuckle a little. “Well, the previous actress who was playing Lena…exited the project and…well Mr. Waltz seemed to think I might make a quick fix and Quentin seemed to agree…the rest, I suppose is history!” You chimed, with a small shrug.

Graham shook his head and laughed, “So now, as you said earlier, you two were working very closely on the film…How did that work? Because I’ve heard that you, Christoph, are often kept away from the rest of the cast, especially in your first film with Tarantino- Inglorious Bastards?”

Christoph nodded, “Yes, indeed, I was quarantined in this film as well…but Quentin allowed y/n and I to…bond.” He said with a little smirk. You smiled softly, remembering how many times the two of you had sat for hours talking or sitting in silence comfortably.

But Graham caught his smirk, and laughed along, “Just bond?” He teased.

Christoph laughed a little, “Yes. Just bond.” He looked at you for the briefest of moments, but you were too busy sharing a cheeky, chastising look with Graham.

Indeed the two of you had gotten to know each other very well. The film itself was very intimate, and it was impossible to not grow attatched; though you wondered if it was just you who pined for affection. There had been countless late nights of running lines and on more than one occasion, strolling through the sleepless streets together.

Quentin had come to call the two of you new duo names every day; from Peanut butter and jelly, to Jekyll and Hyde. It might have been a little childish on your part, but you liked to think you and Christoph were good friends. You hoped dearly that the two of you would maintain your relationship beyond the press tour, even if it simply remained platonic like pen-pals.

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Graham laughed, looking past you to Christoph.

You all laughed a little, and Graham soon regained his composure before returning to you, “I believe you have a little hidden talent too.” Graham said secretively.

The blood drained from your face. It must have showed on your face that you were nervous again, before Christoph shifted next to you again.

“Talent?” You asked, trying to hide your anxiety.

This only made the host giddier.

“Well I’ve heard that you have quite the lovely little voice.”

You couldn’t help but sit there as Christoph looked at you, shocked. “What?”

You sighed and looked at Graham in the eye, “Does this anonymous source start with a J?”

“It might.” He said, hiding behind his cards.

Jules.

Graham smiled and said, “Would you humour us with a live performance?” The look he gave you from behind his cards was sheepish as he gestured to a microphone being set up off to the side. You sent him a scathing stare, but you lightened it up with a small, incredulous smile.

“Any song?” You asked, heart beating erratically.

“Any. If you need a moment to find-“

“No…I have one in mind.” You cut him, “May I speak with the sound engineers?” You spoke as calmly as you could.

“Yes, they’re just over there.”He pointed off stage.

You looked to see a small booth and nodded.“Graham, you are a sneaky little man.” You said, standing. “Please excuse me, Mr. Waltz, I’m about to embarrass myself as gracefully as I can.”

You half expected the man to say a smart comment, but as you went to walk past him, he only stared up at you with that unreadable expression he wore so often.

The audience clapped, and you did your best to steady the anxiety that seemed to inhabit every hair on your body. You strode to the booth, and found a few men with headsets waiting for you. Their eyes were sympathetic.

Christoph stared you, and blinked after a minute, before looking back at Graham. The host leaned over to him and asked, “I take it you’ve never heard her sing?”

“No.” Christoph shook his head, “She didn’t even tell me she sang.” He did his best to remain as calm as he usually was, but on the inside, he was ecstatic. Music was his second dearest love, next to film, and if you sang nicely he was determined to have you sing for him more often. A part of him wondered why you had never told him.

“Secretive, is she?” Graham asked him.

“Well…apparently.” Christoph said- his voice going up at the end with a little laugh.

You return to the standing mic, wringing your hands nervously. You had chosen an easy song; something that felt close to your heart at that moment.

“Ready?” You heard Graham ask.

You turned to look over at the two men staring at you. One excitedly, one softly. After a moment of adjusting the mic, you nodded with a secret little smile that you send to your co-star. The one he returned is curious, but pleasant.

The sound of soft piano began to fill the air, and you felt your shoulders relax.

Breathe.

“Slow down you crazy child

You're so ambitious for a juvenile

But then if you're so smart tell me,

Why are you still so afraid?

Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?

You better cool it off before you burn it out

You got so much to do and only

So many hours in a day

But you know that when the truth is told

That you can get what you want

Or you can just get old

You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through

When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?” The song you had listened to for years fell from your tongue easily, though you had to keep from laughing; you were certain you would get a few comments from your Viennese co-star. Regardless, you found comfort in the song- it was bittersweet and melancholic.

Christoph watched you, and unbeknownst to him, Graham watched his every move; he had seen thousands of co-stars interview, but it was rare to see two so enamoured with each other.

“Slow down you're doing fine

You can't be everything you want to be before your time

Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight

Too bad, but it's the life you lead

You're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need

Though you can see when you're wrong

You know you can't always see when you're right,

You got your passion, you got your pride

But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?

Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true

When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?

Slow down you crazy child

Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while

It's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two

When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?

And you know that when the truth is told

That you can get what you want or you can just get old

You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through

Why don't you realize... Vienna waits for you?

When will you realize... Vienna waits for you?”

You enjoyed the piano as it slowed and faded. Then, as you came back to reality, you could have heard a pin drop for a full five seconds. Then your ears rang as the audience erupted with applause. You smiled slowly and ducked your head and you bowed graciously.

As you approached the larger stage, you almost tripped when you saw the vibrant smile on Christoph’s face. He stood and took your arms to help you get by him, and as you both sat he placed a kiss on your knuckles; this did not go unnoticed by your fiery host.

“Wonderful performance, y/n. Though I must say that it seems as though you have been harbouring some secrets.” He teased, “Christoph here didn’t even know you sang.”

“Anything else you want to tell me fraulein?” Christoph asked, leaning closer to you on the small back rest.

Graham gasped joyfully at you and chuckled, “How do you manage to keep yourself together around him y/n? If he called me that I would get no work done at all…and if he kissed my hand like that I would just-“ he waves his hand “- explode.”

Y/n smiled shyly, “Oh…I can’t say I’m much better than you Graham. Mr. Waltz is certainly a man of words.” You cast him a soft look, and saw that he was already looking.

“Only words?”

The audience laughed, and you whipped your head back to Graham at his comment.

“I work with what I can.” Christoph said cheekily, shifting a little.

You laughed softly, trying to ignore the fact that your heart was trying to jump out of your chest and run to the older man staring at you.

“Y/n I noticed that you call this esteemed gentleman by his last name. Is that some sort of rule or…?” Graham asked cheekily.

You played along with his mischievous grin, “Oh no, it started on day one of us working together actually…I was so nervous that it felt strange to call him Christoph-“

It seemed that the fact that said gentleman closed his eyes and sucked in a breath at the sound of his name from your lips escaped most attention.

“-so I called him Mr. Waltz. I have actually been a massive fan of his work for a very long time; besides I think it gives him a certain amount of respect. God knows he deserves it.” You said, turning around to say the last part to Christoph.

“You are too kind Fräulein.” He cooed to you, making Graham spin away and bite his fist.

“Y/n does he call you that in the film?” Graham asks cheekily; his accent coming out as he got excited.

You sighed and nodded. “ Max is Austrian…so he…he does.”

The host shook his head and slapped his cards on the table next to him.

“That’s it I’m becoming an actor! Get Tarantino on the phone!” Graham gushes and you couldn’t help but laugh softly, but when you turned to look at Christoph, you swore he stared a little longer at you with something else in his face.

“Well I think that’s all we have time for tonight folks! You can see these two in “Rapture” this Friday, have a good night!” Graham, you waved with Christoph to the camera.

“Aaand we’re out.” Comes the voice of one of the producers.

Graham looked out at the sound “Are the mics off this time?” He asked cheekily, to which he received a thumbs up. With the privacy, Graham turned back to the both of you, and his voice relaxed.

“It was such a pleasure to have you both here tonight. Y/n I hope you’re alright…the nerves seemed to wear off by the middle, yes?” Graham asked kindly.

You took a breath and nodded, and relaxed when Christoph rubbed her back.

“Yes…can’t say I’m not nervous, but I’ll get used to it. I’m just glad Mr. Waltz agreed to have me tour with him.” You said sweetly.

Graham laughed.

“I don’t think he could have said no. If I wasn’t -“ he flicks a limp wrist wrist “ - swinging the other way I could just eat you up!” Graham laughed harder when Christoph just stared at him with that stoic face.

“Oops, I think I touched a nerve.” Graham laughed, “It was such a pleasure to see you again, y/n I wish you the best of luck for the rest of your interviews.” He shook your hand as you stood.

“It was a pleasure, Graham…an embarrassing one but still a pleasure. Auf wiedersehen.” You smiled, and looked back at Christoph who stood just behind your shoulder.

“As the young lady said, auf wiedersehen.” The older man said, extending his hand to shake Graham’s.

As you descended the stairs to go backstage, you heard Christoph sigh.

It was not annoyed or exasperated.

Not even disappointed.

But you knew he liked his quiet time, so you left him alone until he spoke first.

An intern unclipped your mics, and handed you both some water, which you both accepted with a polite “thank you.”

You smiled at the sound of Christoph’s soft voice. Not many people knew how gentle he was behind the camera; you counted yourself unbelievably lucky to be able to say that you did.

As you were escorted out of the building, and into your transport vehicle, Christoph placed a hand on the small of your back as he had many times.

You thought back to when he had taken you to the smallest German restaurant one night after filming; he had claimed it was the best he had found. And if you were honest, it was some of the most delicious food you had eaten.

You thought about how he had indulged you with the information that one of his guilty pleasures are bubble baths. That memory made you giggle softly beside him as you relaxed in the back seat, being driven to your hotel.

“Something funny?”

You turned your head and looked at Christoph who was already looking at you with amusement.

“I was…I just remembered when you told me you liked bubble baths.” You said, grinning a little.

“I might just need one tonight…” he mused, placing his chin in his hand as he looked out the window.

“Geht es dir gut?(are you alright?)” You asked gently.

After a second, the older man turned back to you and held his other arm out to you. You scooted over and let his wrap his arm around your shoulders, and press a kiss to your temple.

“Ich denke nur nach. (Im just thinking)” He murmured, albeit a little absentmindedly.

“Okay.” You whispered, letting him be.

You shut your hotel room door, and leaned against it. Your feet hurt, your stomach was growling, and your face felt heavy.

By the time you were showered and clad soft pyjamas, it was almost midnight. You were just about to curl up in bed and find a film to watch when you were startled by a knock on your door. Your nerves began to ramp up as your mind ran faster and faster as you stepped closer to the door.

But then, as you looked cautiously through the peephole, you let out a sigh of relief and unlocked the door and swung it open. “Hey stranger…is everything alright?” You asked, eyeing Christoph with a tilted head. He was usual fairly diligent about sleeping an appropriate amount of time, so this was a little odd.

“Yes, yes.” He said quickly, but without much care, “May I?” He nodded into the room.

You nodded and stood aside. “Of course…come in.” However, as he walked past you couldn’t help the deep breath you took; you had to try and not pass out from the wonderful smell that followed him- he must have showered. Your suspensions were confirmed when you noticed his comfortable clothes and damp hair.

As you turned back to him, you found the older man already sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg over the other. You didn’t blame him for skipping the armchair- you had both already commented on how hard they were when you had arrived. You sat beside him, and took a slow breath. “Did I do alright? I hope I didn’t say anything wrong- it was my first interview and I-“

“You learned German on set?” Christoph said, turning to you. Your heart almost leapt out of your chest at the question.

Was he mad?

Disappointed?

“I-…well yes. When- when I found out you were among the cast, I thought it might be nice for you to have someone to speak to in your native tongue…even if it was just a little. Your English is wonderful but I can only imagine how tiring it can be to keep it up.” You said quietly, looking at your hands.

He was quiet for a moment, absorbing your words.

“Why didn’t you tell me, meine Schatzi?” He says softly, leaning onto his thighs.

Your heart swelled at the nickname; he had only used it once after a night out with the rest of the cast post filming. It would probably be your favourite out of all the things he called you.

“Mr. Waltz…” you chose your next words carefully, “I have been a very big fan of your work for a long time…” You said, hoping it wouldn’t put him off “You’re an intimidating character because you are so charming and intelligent and that draws people in. I cannot begin to tell you what an inspiration you are, not just to me but to so many people. You’re funny and articulate and calculated and dedicated, and respectful…I was so nervous, and I wanted you to be comfortable around me…but I was a bit nervous. Hell you’ve seen me avoid getting a coffee from a café before just because I felt intimidated.” You said, laughing a little at yourself. You looked up to see those green eyes you loved staring back; he was listening so intently.

“Are you still intimidated?” He asked after a moment.

“Ein wenig…(a Little…)” You said sheepishly; earning you a little smile from the older man. It was sympathetic and kind, not condescending.

“Come here.” He said quietly, holding his arm out to hug you to his side. You clenched your hands to keep from fully curling up into his lap, but it seemed that he took it as a sign of nerves.

“I don’t bite, Fräulein.” Christoph murmured, his accent thickening with tiredness, and your jaw clenched at the sound. This man didn’t know what he did to you in the slightest…

After a moment, you relented and sat yourself closer, and leaned into his embrace; Christoph brushed a little hair from your face, and sighed softly.

“Good choice, by the way.” The older man murmured as he held you.

Your brows scrunched together in confusion, and as you thought, Christoph aided you.

“Your song choice.” He said.

Your ears burned again when you remembered that you had indeed sang on live TV.

“The song brought me a lot of comfort when I was younger…it still does. Plus I thought it would be a little funny.” You said with a soft laugh.

“It was. I enjoyed it immensely.” He said, rubbing your arm which only made you melt more.

You both sat there for a moment in a comfortable quiet, just looking out the window by the bed; the city was still alight with life and it made you smile.

“Tell me, is there anything else you’re hiding from me, little one?” Christoph murmured into your hair.

You felt your cheeks burn, and found yourself looking at your hands again knowing there was no makeup to hide it.

“Ah ah,” Christoph tsked, “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, please.”

Your ears burned, and you knew there was no hiding the blush, so you took a long breath to steady your head and brought your eyes up to meet his. Christoph grinned, satisfied.

“There’s a good girl.” He cooed, “Now, tell me.”

Christoph spoke as if he wasn’t Christoph Waltz, and you weren’t smitten with him. So casually.

Your head felt light and your hands were warm. Not that you were ashamed or uncomfortable by being there next to him- quite the contrary. You found yourself melting into his touch, but you knew he was wearing down your resolve. He wanted to know exactly who he was dealing with, and you were too embarrassed to tell him.

It was a little ironic really; who you were. He had said it himself that very evening.

A love-sick puppy.

“I don’t think I should…” You started, but Christoph quirked an eyebrow and your words died on your tongue.

“I do.” He said plainly, giving your arm one more squeeze before releasing you entirely. You found yourself missing his warmth, and almost whined when he stood and perched on the uncomfortable armchair. The older man leaned his chin into his hand and raised his pinky to run along his bottom lip.

His bold statement made you squirm, and you looked away again, breathing out a laugh, “Mr. Waltz-“

“Christoph.” He corrected, almost chiding.

You stared back at him, not knowing what to say; your brain was beginning to short circuit bad enough as it was.

“You will call me Christoph when we are alone, yes?” He said comfortably, removing his pinky to speak easier.

This time, you managed to nod without blushing too much, and shifted a little.

“Good. Now!” He stood, “I do believe I interrupted your evening, I will leave you to it-“

You stood quickly, and he paused, “Actually I’m…you didn’t at all- I was just going to find a film to watch…not that there’s ever anything good on their lists.” You shrugged, hoping he would stay.

Christoph regarded you for a moment and smiled, “Then it is your lucky night because I was actually about to watch a film I found that I think you will enjoy!” He chirped. Your heart swelled again at the sight of his pride.

You returned his smile and nodded, “Well how can I say no to that.”

“I will also add that I have food.” He said teasingly, knowing that you were likely hungry, and never denied his food choices.

It wasn’t your fault the man had impeccable taste.

It was infuriating.

“Das klingt perfekt. (That sounds perfect)” You murmured.

The older man’s smile widened and you swore his eyes glowed.

“Bitte, nach dir (please, after you.)” he said, and gestured for you to go first.

You slid on your wool slippers and took your room key as you both left to walk down the hall. It was almost surreal how quiet it was.

Christoph’s room was tidy, as always, and you clenched your jaw as the smell of him invaded your senses tenfold. You toed off your slippers and watched as the older man walked to the table that did indeed have a tray of food on it. The sight alone had you almost moan.

“Please, have anything you like.” He said, turning to you with a plate for you.

“Danke schön…” You murmured softly, and took the plate. It didn’t escape you how your fingers brushed against his.

It did not escape him either.

But neither of you said a word. Christoph smiled politely and took a piece of warm bread with him as he located the remote.

You couldn’t help but sigh happily as you ate away.

Once your stomach stopped speaking to you, you put your fork down and looked back to Christoph, who had sat in a seated position against the headboard of the bed, glasses perched on his nose and a book in hand.

How could he be so effortlessly handsome?

You noticed that he still wore his hearing aids, and idly wondered if he was-

“It is considered rude to stare, mein Schatz (my dear).”

You jumped, and looked away quickly, not having noticed that you were gazing at the man a little longer than you had meant to.

“I was just wondering…if you’re still wearing your aids because I’m here you don’t have to. You know that.” You said, coming to sit on the other side of the bed to speak to him.

“Not at all. I intend to enjoy this film with you, and I do rather like the sound production for it.” He said, putting his book down, “But if we were not about to watch a film, and you were here, I would still wear them. You know I like to hear you.”

His words, while innocent in nature, had a certain successive connotation to them that made your ears hot again.

“Come, get comfortable. You must be tired.” Christoph held his arm out and pat his shoulder. You gave in and crawled over to him, resting against his warm chest.

“I hope you like Wes Anderson.” He murmured, pressing play.

“I do. Very much…his attention to detail is beautiful…” You mused, trying not to be obvious about drowning in his scent.

“Good.” He chirped, “Do you know this one?”

You watched the screen for a moment, and smiled. “The Grand Budapest Hotel is a classic. It’s a favourite actually!”

“I had the pleasure of sharing an interview with Ralph Fiennes once. Very humble man…” Christoph said softly, watching the screen.

I know. You wanted to say, having watched the interview and smiled to yourself over how sweet they were to each other.

The two of you settled against each other comfortably, and you even placed your hand under your cheek. Christoph had his arm draped around you, and kissed your temple gently; occasionally running his hand through your hair.

As the film progressed you found yourself loosing yourself in the man below your cheek. You had admired him for so long, and knowing him in person did not take any of that away; in fact it only added to your adoration. He was unbelievably polite, he made you laugh, and most importantly he made you feel safe. You had spent the better part of the last six months completely falling in love with the older man, and as your time with him drew closer to its end, you found your own words ringing in your ears. “…This is the most surreal experience of my life and if I let it go by the wayside I’ll regret it until I die.”

You sucked in a long breath and waited for a lull in the film.

“I like you Christoph.” You whispered into his chest. You swore time stood still after your admission, but then after a moment, Christoph hummed, and rubbed your arm absentmindedly, but only served to set your skin on fire.

“Oh? I thought you were intimated by me.” The older man teased, much to your surprise. Your stomach did flips.

You sighed out a laugh, and pulled away just enough to look at him properly, “I am…but I…I still like you a great deal.”

There was a moment of quiet as he absorbed your words.

“Is that your last secret?” He asked, eyes twinkling mischievously, brushing a little hair from your face.

“N-no.” You murmured, flicking your eyes away for a moment before looking back at him and accidentally flicking your eyes to his lips for half a second before returning to those green eyes of his.

“Tell me.” Christoph whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

You knew he wouldn’t move unless you did. He was too much of a gentleman.

“I-“ You tried to find a smart retort, or even a silly one, but nothing came.

You sucked in a slow breath, and before you could back out, you brushed your lips again those of the older man holding you. That feeling alone was enough to keep your warm on a winter night. Then as you went to pull away, already blushing, you felt the hand that was on your waist move to the back of your head and pull you back.

His lips were impossibly soft, and warm; you felt your head spin as he kissed you so gently. But then when a small mewl escaped you, he slipped his tongue against yours, and just like that, you were gone.

Christoph placed one more kiss to your lips before pulling away, to look at you.

“I think we should discuss that secret in explicit detail, little one. Yes?” He said, pulling your body closer and smoothing his thumb over your bottom lip.

Your mind went blank, so you said the only thing you could think of.

“Yes, Christoph.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@dogmatic255 @funandfancyfree

#christoph waltz #Christoph waltz x reader #actor x reader #fem!reader #Christoph waltz x fem!reader #hans landa #colonel hans landa #dr king schultz #django unchained #inglorious basterds #quentin tarantino

290 notes · View notes

if-you-are-tired-clap-your-hands · 9 months

Text

I've just watched Django unchained and I scrolled on Tumblr to see what people's opinions on the movie was, and find some fanart. Now, you need to explain to me, right now, how a movie with a black character as the main character, and with the central subject being slavery, generates a fandom which has for center king Schultz??? The nice German character?

Yes he's a good character, but he's not the godamn center of the movie ?? Why is there so fucking many reader X Schultz fanfics and posts while Django the freaking Main Character has almost none ??? Dude ????

Like. No hate on those reader X Schultz. I read a lot of X readers and imagines in other fandoms. I get it, the character is kind and cool, no problems. But the movie doesn't center around him, it centers around the hell slavery is for black people. It centers around torture. It centers around vengeance.

And, alright, the movie is really, really harsh and difficult to see, because of the violence and the racism, and I get that the fandom might wish to see lighter subjects related to the movie. It's always like that, the fandom creates what the art lacks ! That's cool ! So how about fanfics around django freeman ? Around Brunhilde? Even around Stephen ? There are other characters as interesting and deep as Schultz. Just had to get it off my chest.

#django unchained #if you are tired talk #it piss me off when a white side character takes over the fandom when the story is centered around others characters that are not white

12 notes · View notes

frostyreturns · 1 year

Text

Best And Worst Books From 2022

Top 5 Classics of 2022

5.) Fahrenheit 451 - Ray Bradbury 4/5

4.) Dracula - Bram Stoker 4/5

3.) Frankenstein - Mary Shelley 4/5

2.) The Screwtape Letters - C.S Lewis 5/5

1.) The Hobbit - J.R.R Tolkien 5/5

Bottom 5 Classics of 2022

5.) War Of The Worlds - H.G Wells 3/5

4.) Animal Farm - George Orwell 2/5

3.) Beren And Luthien - J.R.R/Christopher Tolkien 2/5

2.) Roughing It - Mark Twain 2/5

1.) Walden - Henry David Thoreau 2/5

Top 5 miscellaneous genre fiction of 2022

5.) The Road -Cormac McCarthy 3/5

4.) Misery - Stephen King 3/5

3.) The Girl Who Played With Fire - Stieg Larsson 3/5

2.) Batman No Mans Land - Greg Rucka 5/5

1.) Darkly Dreaming Dexter - Jeff Lindsay 5/5

Bottom 5 miscellaneous genre fiction of 2022

5.) Splintercell - Raymond Benson 3/5

4.) Skin -Ted Dekker 3/5

3.) Pirate Latitudes - Michael Chrichton 3/5

2.) Skipping Christmas- John Grisham 2/5

1.) Small Steps- Louis Sachar 2/5

Top 5 Star Wars Novels of 2022

5.) Jedi Search - Kevin J Anderson 4/5

4.) Dark Apprentice - Kevin J Anderson 4/5

3.) Heir To The Empire - Timothy Zahn 5/5

2.) The Empire Strikes Back - Donald F Glut 5/5

1.) The Last Command - Timothy Zahn 5/5

Bottom 5 Star Wars Novels of 2022

5.) Dark Force Rising -Timothy Zahn 3/5

4.) Tatooine Ghost - Troy Denning 3/5

3.) Rogue Planet - Greg Bear 3/5

2.) The Courtship Of Princess Leia - Dave Wolverton 3/5

1.) Splinter Of The Minds Eye - Alan Dean Foster 3/5

Top 5 Young Reader Novels of 2022

5.) Charlie And The Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl 4/5

4.) Holes - Louis Sachar 4/5

3.) The Magicians Nephew - C.S Lewis 4/5

2.) The Lion The Witch And The Wardrobe - C.S Lewis 4/5

1.) A Series Of Unfortunate Events: The Penultimate Peril - Lemony Snicket 4/5

Bottom 5 Young Reader Novels of 2022

5.) Bailey SK:Swamp Monsters Don’t Chase Wild Turkeys - Debbie Dadey 1/5

4.) Goosebumps: Go Eat Worms - R.L Stine 1/5

3.) X Men Cyclops And Phoenix - Paul Mantell 1/5

2.) Of Mice And Nutcrackers - Richard Scrimger 1/5

1.) Harry Potter And The Cursed Child - John Tiffany 1/5

Top 5 comics of 2022

5.) Calvin And Hobbes: Revenge Of The Baby Sat - Bill Watterson 5/5

4.) Calvin And Hobbes - Bill Watterson 5/5

3.) Star Wars Knights Of The Old Republic Omnibus Vol 2 - John Jackson Miller 5/5

2.) Batman Hush - Jeph Loeb 5/5

1.) Calvin And Hobbes: Attack Of The Deranged Mutant Killer Monster Snow Goons - Bill Watterson 5/5

Bottom 5 Comics of 2022

5.) Archie Jumbo Digest 326 3/5

4.) Amazing Spider-Man Coming Home - J Michael Straczynski 2/5

3.) You’re So Smart Snoopy - Charles Schultz 2/5

2.) Marvel Comics Digest #2 Avengers 2/5

1.) Batman Serious House On Serious Earth - Grant Morrison 1/5

#year in books

21 notes · View notes

kamelpferd · 2 years

Text

MASTERLIST

For now only on Wattpad ... I know not the best plattform for fanfictions (One Shots) but it feels like home to me for some reason, so like... yeah.

I mainly write One Shots (if I have time) and barely bigger projects but I have one for now. (July 28th 22) It is not finished yet and not fully rewritten and reread but... yeah. Idk what to say. It is about the Magnificent 7 from 2016, so probably not a lot of peoples cup of tea.

ANYWAYS, here is the masterlistof all of my finished One Shots, kind of a shortcut, so you don't have to scroll through my whole Wattpad account.

Bon Scott

• Keep Watching - Bon Scott x Angus Young x Reader

Angus Young

• Keep Watching - Bon Scott x Angus Young x Reader

Brian May

• Touch Me Gently - Roger Taylor x Brian May

Roger Taylor

• Touch Me Gently - Roger Taylor x Brian May

• The One Bed Trope - Roger Taylor x Reader

Meeks

• Study Dates - Meeks x Reader

• Holy Trinity - Meeks x Pitts x Reader

Pitts

• Holy Trinity - Meeks x Pitts x Reader

Porthos

• One For Me And Just For Me - Porthos x Reader

Captain Hook

• Headcanons - James Hook x Reader

Doc Holliday

• It's Never Not Painful - Doc Holliday x Reader

John Ruth

• The Hangman - John Ruth x Reader

Dr. King Schultz

• His Name Was King - Dr. King Schultz x Reader

• A Work Of Art - Dr. King Schultz x Reader

Goodnight Robicheaux

• NSFW Alphabet

Donny Donowitz

• What Are You Thinking About - Donny Donowitz x Reader

Captain Boomerang

• Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap - Captain Boomerang x Reader

• Pink Fluffy Unicorn - Captain Boomerang x Reader

• The One Where I Fucked My Friend - Captain Boomerang x Reader

Ed Kemper

• Sympathy For The Devil - Ed Kemper x Reader

• Ed Kemper's Childhood Friend - Ed Kemper x Reader

John Munch

• I Think We're Alone Now - John Munch x Reader

Billy Hargrove

• Every Rose Has Its Thorn - Billy Hargrove x Reader

• Bed Of Roses - Billy Hargrove x Reader

This Masterlist is fully updated as I try to add every fanfiction as soon as I post it on Wattpad! English is not my first language, so please don't hurt me. I am trying my best.

I would have added more pictures and or gifs to my masterlist, but there is this annoying 10 picture limit on tumblr 😭 so I can't.

You need to know about me, that I LOVE pictures and gifs and shit, and I will throw as many of them into any type of media I post as I can! They make me happy, and it saddens me that I have a limit here, but oh well what can I do. (Do I sound like a child? Because in my head the shit I just wrote sounded really childish??? help???)

I have like 20 unfinished works in my inbox, but I have like 0 time to write bc. I am like failing at life rn, and I gotta get that under control, so be patient please. (As if anyone even reads my shit 😭 why am I acting like a celebrity, and why am I so... cringe???)

Shoot me please.

Anyways, here is my linktree.

#bon scott #angus young #brian may #roger taylor #meeks #porthos #doc holliday #john ruth #dr. king schultz #donny donowitz #captain boomerang #ed kemper #john munch #billy hargrove

22 notes · View notes

waltzchristophh · 2 years

Text

celebrating your first birthday with schultz ♡

(dr. king schultz x reader)

ngl i passed out twice while writing this. enjoy! :*

THE EVENING BEFORE YOUR BIRTHDAY

"make haste, mein liebechen. the train leaves in half an hour."

you stood before a tall mirror, donning a satin yellow empire-waisted gown (think back to the one hildi wears in django!) as you fluffed your hair to perfection

you hummed in response, and continued to croon a broken-hearted melody

"the hands i used to touch don't even wave hello..."

it wasn't long before you felt his presence and met his unwavering gaze in your boudoir mirror

his arms were crossed as he leaned against the oak doorframe with a comically stern expression

"what?" you giggled, knowing how long he must have waited for you until now

"just looking to see what's been keeping my little songbird so preoccupied."

you chuckled, still adjusting your soft crown

"let me look at you." he told - his smile now dissipated

you coyly bit your lip and turned to face your lover

for a moment, it seemed that he was at a loss for words. his green eyes savored the sight of you as he quietly gulped

his fingers flexed subconsciously at his sides, as if he were trying to physically grasp the right words to use

the phrase "wie schön sie sind." (how beautiful you are) left his lips without another thought

you resisted the overwhelming urge to turn away in embarrassment, and instead smiled toward the ground, fidgeting with your dress

"danke."

he couldn't help the grin that reached his soft lips at your bashfulness

"komm hier, meine katzchen. let us leave this place"

(the duolingo lessons have been paying off yall)

the tranquil train ride through the north american country left you breathless

your birthday never struck you as particularly memorable - or enjoyable for that matter. but you knew now that with king as your partner, you would never have to suffer disappointment again

schultz had booked a first class cabin for the two of you, warranting several unwanted stares from the white passengers (lol bc im black hehe)

cut to king playing footsies with you to acquire your attention whilst you stare out the window lol

you share a chilled bottle of champagne alongside a rich slice of decadent swiss chocolate cake

as nightfall neared, and the train's soft hum lulled you to sleep, you clung to king's side on the pullout bedspread

his suit jacket was settled on the floor, and his brawny, hairy arms tickled your chest

you still wore your satin gown, as it was comfortable enough to double as a nightdress

you lived up to your nickname 'katzchen' (meaning kitten) by kissing, licking and biting your lover's neck to bits

"we've got to get you spayed, y/n." king joked

you slapped his chest and laughed into his arm

he chuckled, shushing you with his finger. "wouldn't want to wake up the neighbors, eh?"

"is that a challenge?"

you straddled king's hips, admiring his softened face basking in the silver moonlight

you smoothed his scruffy beard with both hands until his hands gripped your wrists - bringing them to his mouth and kissing your knuckles

he looked to you with similar adoration, wondering to himself how he got so lucky

his searching hands reached your soft hips, massaging them tenderly

you shared a silent moment, staring deeply into each other's eyes

the train's rumbling movement incidentally caused your aching womanhood to rub harshly against his bulging trousers

(i'm not the only one who sleeps without any underwear, right?)

you leaned forward to hover above his parted lips, smirking devilishly

"is it to early to open my present, king?"

"depriving the birthday girl of what she desires would be nothing short of sin."

you palmed his dickprint, and giggled

your fellow passengers didn't get very much sleep that night

the two of you settled at a quaint liberal town in rural vermont

a carriage awaited you at the station's exit, prompting a gleeful squeal from you

it was safe to say you weren't used to this kind of treatment

your uninhibited happiness alone could lift king's spirits on his darkest day

the light of his life. the fire of his loins. you were his angel

your first stop was at a german-owned pastry shop where king conversed with the owner like old friends

the man gestured to you, still speaking german. from what you could make out, he was astonished by your beauty, and congratulated king on courting such a fine woman

he handed your partner a straw picnic basket, wrapped beautifully with red gingham detail

the carriage transported you to a secluded lush clearing, overlooking a valley

you gasped at the sight. it nearly brought you to tears

you began to wonder just how much thought king had given into planning this trip. everything had come together so perfectly, you were just waiting for the punchline to hit

because of your closeness, you voiced your anxieties to him instead of overthinking yourself to death

"king?"

"yes, my sweet?"

"is it bad that i feel like this is too good to be true?"

"too good to be true?" he spread the picnic blanket on the grass as you stood holding the basket. "what do you mean?"

"well... it's just that- things don't usually ever work out for me this way. i feel like i'm dreaming when i'm with you. i feel like... something is going to go wrong and bring me back to earth, like it always does."

king beckoned you to his side, sitting on the picnic blanket

"my sweet girl," he caressed your teary cheek with a loving hand. "i can assure you that for as long as i live, nothing will ever be too good to be true. it simply will be."

his words never failed to bring you contentment. "you make me feel like home, king." you sniffled. "thank you for everything."

"komm hier, meine liebe."

even after the luxury train ride, the endless scenery, the cake, the champagne, the diamonds and jewels - the only birthday gift you longed for was the sweet talking german that sat beside you

the picnic was fairytale-like. king introduced you to a plethora of german sweets and cuisine you never even heard of

he handfed you a bite of each food, enjoying the sight of you as much as you did the taste

"oh, king. why have you hid this from me for so long? i will never forgive you, i swear it."

by sundown, the two of you were stuffed, but didn't settle down until after seeing a play.

"you thought of just about everything, haven't you?"

"just about."

once you arrived at the vacant mountain cabin, your cheeks were sore from smiling, lips raw from kissing, and wanted nothing more than to rid yourself of your clothes and makeup to collapse onto your bed

so after setting your luggage down and undressing yourselves, you joined king in the clawfoot bathtub to unwind

you tucked your hair into a showercap, which you thought was the farthest thing from attractive, but the look king gave you ridded your mind of all doubt

he washed your back as you sat between his legs humming softly

you hummed along with him to the tune of your favorite song

when it was his turn, you scrubbed his back, neck and ears before rinsing the two of you off and letting him wrap you in a warm towel

your teeth chattered as you shivered and king lit the fireplace ablaze to warm you up

once changed into your nightgown, king asked you to put your winter coat on to stargaze with him on the balcony

he pointed out constellations to you, which were always harder to see from the city you were from. but up there, in the countryside, the stars shone bright as day

you cuddled with your man in front of the picture esque landscape of northern america, watching your cold breaths fill the air

a few moments later, king asked you to take a look under the chair you sat on

when you did, you were delighted to find a present waiting for you

"i thought you were a dentist, not a magician!" eliciting a chuckle from him

"whats in it?" you asked excitedly, shaking the box.

"well you won't be able to tell by shaking it, katzchen. go on, open it," he said warmly

after slowly peeling back the blue ribbon that sealed the present you found a lovely blue drindl, which you later learned was imported directly from germany

you spun in your new drindl, watching as the blue fabric flared around you

you felt so very beautiful

it was the perfect closure to a birthday you would never forget

snowcapped mountain peaks gleamed in the pale moonlight

the two of you returned to the inside of the cabin, and prepared yourselves for rest

the fireplace crackled at your feet before king put it out

he tucked you into bed first, and then slipped into the covers himself

he held you close, giving you eskimo kisses and stroking your hair

"i love you, y/n. i love you eternally."

"i love you too, my king."

you fell asleep in his warm embrace, and the forehead kisses were endless

xoxo

#christoph waltz x reader #christoph waltz #dr king schultz x reader #dr king schultz #django #django unchained #dr schultz x reader #king schultz #king schultz x reader #dr schultz

174 notes · View notes

one-boring-person · 2 years

Note

Could you pls write something short and fluffy with King Schultz? You come home from a rough day at work, so he takes care of and cuddles you 🥰

I hope you like this 😊💛

Ich Hab Dich So Lieb.

(I Love You So Much)

Dr King Schultz (Django Unchained) x reader

Warnings: none

Masterlist

Like my work? Buy me a coffee if you'd like to support!

The slam of the door echoes loudly around the small house, the wood rattling on its old hinges. The sound startles me a little, snapping me briefly from the turmoil in my head, though I ignore it as I move to toe my shoes from my feet.

"Liebling? Is that you?" The soft voice draws me more carefully from my thoughts, my head lifting to find King standing by the stairs, having just descended. He's smiling at me, but his concern is obvious in his intelligent eyes.

Normally, the attempt at humor would make me laugh a little, but today I can only manage a forced smile.

"Hello." I greet him, going to remove my coat.

Swiftly, the bounty hunter steps over to me, gentle hands replacing mine as he slowly pulls the garment down over my arms, hanging it on a hook before he turns back to me. I turn to face him briefly, swallowing under his curious gaze. Once more, I give him a tight smile, hoping it's reassuring, though I can see it only serves to increase his worry.

"Are you hungry? Django brought some fresh bread back with him earlier." King offers me, subtly scrutinizing me for a reaction.

I shake my head.

"No, I think I'm just going to get some rest." I say, going to leave for the stairs.

He's too fast for me, catching my wrist lightly before I can go, tugging me a little closer to him.

"(Y/n) was ist los? Has something happened?" King tilts his head, moving to hold my hands in his, rubbing his thumbs soothingly over mine.

Sighing, I look down, biting my lip as I realize I should probably tell him.

"Just a rough day, that's all."

"Rough?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?" His clear eyes are clouding with worry.

"Not now...Maybe later." I lift my gaze to his, tense in his hold.

"Of course, Liebling." He smiles reassuringly, moving to envelope me in a warm embrace, his arms pressing me against his body. Succumbing to the sensation of safety from being in his grip, I wrap my own arms around the bounty hunter, burying my face into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent: that cologne I love so much mixed with soap and the faint hint of woodfire smoke. Tension slowly starts to seep out of me, my body yearning to be intertwined with King.

Somehow telepathic, he pulls back, lifting a hand to smooth some hair from my face, smiling softly.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." His accented voice is quiet, tempting me.

I nod at him, allowing him to pull away completely and lead me up the stairs to our shared bedroom. Once there, he sets about removing my uncomfortable day clothes, stopping to lightly skim his hand over my revealed skin, seemingly in awe of me. A blush colors my cheeks at his gaze, only intensifying as he compliments me over and over in that smooth voice of his.

Carefully, he helps me into some more comfortable clothes, leading me over to the bed. Pushing me gently down onto it, he makes sure I'm settled before he pulls off his waistcoat, pulling his shirt loose from his suspenders and trousers. Eventually, he climbs in beside me, instantly pulling my body into his as he sits up against the headboard.

Easily, I fall into position against his lower torso, my head resting just below his sternum. Warmth flows into me from his body, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders and gently stroke circles into them, before one moves up to run lovingly through my hair. King deftly pulls the covers over me, lifting one of my hands to his face so he can kiss at my fingers and palm, a smile creeping onto my face as I find myself forgetting the bad day I had.

Looking up at him, I use the hand he's holding to cup his face, leaning up to kiss him softly on the lips. Sighing happily, the bounty hunter kisses back, cupping my own face with his hand to pull me closer, his facial hair rubbing nicely against my chin and cheek. Parting again, he smiles, carding his fingers through my hair, kissing me once more briefly before urging me to lie with my head in the crook of his neck.

Quickly becoming warm and sleepy, I lie there contentedly, pushing a hand under his shirt to splay over the firm chest, relishing in the softness of the smattering of hair there.

King's only response is to chuckle and pull me closer, resting his chin on my head.

"Ich hab dich so lieb." He murmurs softly, kissing my forehead.

#break writes #dr king schultz #king schultz #king Schultz x reader #king Schultz imagine #Django Unchained #Christoph Waltz

155 notes · View notes

mlmxreader · 2 years

Text

The Stars | Dr. King Schultz x gn!reader

summary: you can't sleep, and neither can King, which brings something to light that neither of you would have said, otherwise.

tws: swearing, a little angst

It was a particularly cold night, Django had long gone to bed after dinner, King had retired, too, and you were left looking up at the stars as you frowned; you liked being a bounty hunter, the money was good and you got to see parts of the country you had never even thought of before... but you yearned to have a home. A quiet home. A warm home. You tugged your jacket closer, able to feel the cold creep in from your legs, you chewed at the inside of your lip as you kept your gaze on the stars; you could see it so perfectly.

A home where you would never feel cold again. Three square meals a day. An actual bed with a proper mattress and maybe even a real duvet. A little garden filled with daffodils. Books from the floor to the ceiling. Clean clothes every day. A warm bath every night and every morning. You could go into town and drink at the saloon without worrying about someone recognising you. A home where the smell of spices and herbs filled every room around tea time. A home where the floors didn't creak and the ceilings didn't leak. Fresh coffee in the morning, cold beer at night. Soft robes and towels in the bathroom. A plush and comfortable sofa, good enough to take a nap on. Dirty boots kicked off by the door and jackets hung up. You could picture it so clearly, like a meeting place where the wild wolves would venture at night.

You were wrapped in the thoughts, daydreaming as your gaze refused to leave the stars, when King came to sit beside you; he draped his thick coat across your shoulders, but when you jumped and flinched, snapping out of such a lovely daydream, he whispered his profuse apologies.

"I didn't mean to scare you."

You shook your head, dragging your gaze to the floor as you sighed heavily and wrung your hands together. "I was just thinking, that's all."

King let out a curious noise as he tilted his head and looked at you; the stars seemed to dance across your features, seemingly knowing where to put their silver gazes and to make you look even more good looking than usual. He couldn't deny it, he had thought of it many times, telling you that he wished to cross that line between firm friends and something more, but he always bit his tongue; he knew he couldn't give you the life you deserved, at least not as a bounty hunter, and he knew anyway that you wouldn't look twice at him. He was older, he was a bounty hunter, he had almost nothing to his name. It wasn't as if he was any sort of charming Prince or handsome king to whisk you away and to give you a happy ending. But still, the way you looked bathed in the light of the stars, King couldn't deny that he wished to at least be honest with you.

"What were you thinking about?"

You shrugged, leaning over so that you could lay your head on his shoulder, angling your head just right so that your words fanned across his throat and made him shiver. "Life after bounty hunting... what are you doing awake?"

"I was," he paused, making a bold move to put his arm around your shoulders as he swallowed thickly, "distracted by a pleasant thought."

In truth, he had not been able to sleep, not when he knew you were still outside; he didn't fancy the thought of you catching a cold or getting sick, he didn't quite like the thought of you being out there all alone, either, but had needed to work up the nerve to actually sit with you. And now that he was, and you were moving so that you could press your forehead to his throat, chuckling softly at how his beard grazed you, he wasn't really sure what to do.

"I hope it was of me," you joked softly, just loud enough to make him tense up and clear his throat. "I'm joking, King, I know... I know you'd never look at me like that..."

He frowned, shaking his head as he shifted where he was sat, trying to think of the right thing to actually say to you. He was thankful that the stars were the only light available, as he was sure that if you saw the blush on his features you would surely mock him.

"I... what makes you say such a thing, (y/n)?"

"Well, I'm not exactly a prize pony, am I?" You asked. "I mean... I've got calloused hands, I'm rough around the edges, I'm not rich, I'm not exactly good looking, either."

Pushing you away slightly, King held your hands for a moment, gently tracing those callouses as he smiled and shook his head. "I like that your hands are calloused... I like that you're rough around the edges... I don't care about whether or not you have money... and you are certainly... cer... certainly very good looking."

You scoffed, not quite believing that he would ever say such things except out of pity. "Yeah, alright. You're only saying that because you feel sorry for me."

"I'm not," he said quietly, his grip on your hands growing a little tighter, yet still loose enough that all you had to do was to pull away. "I fear I care more for you than I should..."

"What? Like, you... you love me?" You quirked a brow and when he slowly nodded, you grinned. "Oh, fuck... King... I feel the same, don't get me wrong, but... why would you ever wanna look twice at me? Of all people?"

"Because I like you," King replied, "a lot."

You dared to get close again, pulling your hands from his and tapping his thigh so that he spread his legs enough that you could sit on his lap; your shoulder pressed against his as you rested your temple against him, one arm going around his waist as you got comfortable. He dared to copy such an action, one arm around your waist, the other around your shoulder as he smiled a little. It was a lot nicer than he had imagined, to be able to hold you. Still bathed in the light of those beautiful stars.

"I like you, too," you murmured. "But... if we're gonna do this, promise me something?"

"Natürlich."

"Promise me you won't steal the blankets."

Such a trivial request made King laugh a little as he promised not to steal the blankets, but when he suggested retiring for the evening, you dared to ask if you could go with him, to not be on your own; he agreed, although he couldn't deny that, until the morning came, he would have thought such a night was nothing more than a dream.

If only the light of the stars had the ability to speak.

#mlem writes #king schultz #king schultz x reader #django unchained #django #tarantinoverse #christoph waltz #king schultz imagine #dr king schultz

76 notes · View notes

babybluebex · 2 years

Text

am i currently writing a king schultz fic that (likely) will never see the light of day? yes, it's called

self-indulgence.

(altho i might be persuaded to post it, idk, we'll have to see)

#those hazel eyes #don't test me doctor #christoph waltz #king schultz #king schultz x reader #django unchained

57 notes · View notes

cozywriting · 2 years

Text

Dr. King Schultz angst imagines

requested by: nobody (me)

Dr. King Schultz often keeping his distance from you, attempting to ignore his growing feelings in fear that he will lose you like he lost everyone else.

You sat next to Django, staring across the fire at King. He was looking down at his dinner and hadn’t said a word to you for most the night.

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked quietly to Django.

“Nah, he always like that.” Django replied, returning to his food.

You gave Django a look. “Not with you.”

Django did not reply and instead took a sip from his canteen. You looked back over at King, who finished eating and was now staring at his feet. It was almost as if he felt your prying eyes so harshly, that he was looking for anything to do but return your gaze.

Django was first to break the silence. “Y’all gonna turn in soon?” He asked, looking back and forth between them.

“Yes, my dear boy,” King finally replied. “I think some sleep would do us well.”

Django retreated across the camp back to his tent, and you and King were alone. You watched as the older man rounded up the mess of his dishes.

“You know if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were giving me the cold shoulder,” you spoke up.

“Now why would you think that?” He asked, taking a moment to reply. His back was turned to her.

You got up and crossed your way to him.

“You went from talking to me every day to,” you paused for the right words. “…this,” you said with a gesture of hands.

“And what is this?” King asked nonchalantly. Clearly, he feigned ignorance.

“I don’t know!” You huffed, ready to give up. “I just want you to talk to me.”

“We’re talking,” he responded, making no effort to turn his face.

His cold demeanor was disheartening. It angered you, but ultimately you knew better than to chase something that never existed.

“Forget it,” you said quietly. You turned away from him and began walking to your tent.

“Wait—” King called out behind you.

You slightly turned your face and saw his eyes roam to the ground. You could tell he was still attempting to avoid looking at you.

“I’ve lost people,” King said.

You turned around to face him, arms crossed. He looked up and for the first time the entire night your eyes connected with his.

“And I haven’t?” You challenged.

“This is different!” He shouted, causing you to slightly jump. He immediately regretted his tone after seeing your reaction. “I’m sorry,” he pleaded softly. “Please, don’t make me say this.”

“Say what? God forbid I ask you to show me the littlest respect of at least acknowledging me!”

“I have plenty of respect for you and more,” he replied harshly. “Do not belittle my emotions.”

You said nothing and King ran a hand through his hair. He took a deep breath, calming himself down.

“I care about you, King,” you finally said, breaking his reverie. He looked up at you.

“Fraulein, I care about you too much and there lies the problem,” he said. Even lengths apart, you could see the sadness in his eyes.

“Then why won’t you let me in?” You asked him quietly.

“I never want to watch another person I love die ever again. And at the hands of myself, no doubt.” King’s eyes welled up and he blinked hot tears away. He did not wait for you to reply before continuing. “Besides I’m no good for you, that much is clear. I’m too impulsive and you’ll only get hurt. I could never be so selfish.”

Still shocked by his confession, you remained silent. With King’s mind made up, he headed into his tent. Leaving you out and alone in the cold.

#imagines #django unchained #dr king schultz #king schultz x reader #king schutlz imagines #christoph waltz #christoph waltz x reader #quentin tarantino #angst imagine #emotionally exhausted king #everything is usually happy and soft with him so bam i give u angst and sadness <3 #cozy writes

161 notes · View notes

unculturedswine-101 · 2 years

Text

Lemme spoil u bitches <33

#i think I am obsessed with a 65 year old man #christoph waltz #quentin tarantino #christoph waltz imagines #django unchained #hans landa #inglorious basterds #christoph waltz x reader #hans landa imagines #hans landa x reader #king schultz #king schultz x reader #august rosenbluth x reader #august rosenbluth

1K notes · View notes

purplelupins · 2 years

Text

Rapture

Part IV

Pairing: Christoph Waltz x fem!reader

Warnings: Reader has anxiety, suggestive and sexual conversations DNI if you are a minor!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

This was the first time you had been apart from Christoph since reuniting for the press tour, and you found yourself aching for his protective presence next to you. He was taken to the airport in a separate car, much to his displeasure, and you hoped the timing of your drivers was in sync enough that you would both arrive at the airport at the same time to at least board the plane together.

However, when you arrived at the massive London Heathrow airport, when you expected to be taken to the front lobby, your driver had continued past the turn. You kept quiet, and watched as he took you roughly one kilometre away from the front of the airport, to a much smaller entrance to the large building. There were a few expensive vehicles pulled up the the private curb, and you noticed a much higher level of security.

While you wanted to ask what was happening, you followed your driver, Dan, and hopped out of the car when he opened the door for you, and took your luggage. You thanked the man for his kindness during your time in the country, and slipped him an extra tip. Ever since you had received your generous paycheck, you had taken it upon yourself to spread as much kindness and gratitude as you could with the small amount of wealth you had been given.

The tinted glass doors stared back at you, and you suddenly felt as if you didn’t belong. But you had a flight to catch, and you were damn well not going to miss it because of your sweaty hands and restless mind. You squared your shoulders and took the few steps up to the door before it slid open automatically. There was a small, beautiful reception area that opened up, and a woman with a friendly smile behind the counter in uniform.

“Good morning miss.” She greeted you as you strode up to her. “Checking in?” Her manners were well practiced.

“Yes, thank you.” You said, handing her your ticket and passport for confirmation. She took it with ease and looked it over carefully- you assumed this was definitely some kind of VIP boarding lounge, so they couldn’t just let anyone inside. Either that or a very elaborate trafficking scheme.

“Thank you miss l/n,” she said, returning the papers, “If you would like to leave your suitcase here, you may proceed into the security check just beyond those doors,” she gestured to the other end of the lobby, “Where you will then find the lounge were you will wait for your boarding time.”

You blinked, and nodded, “Oh, perfect. Thank you very much.” You said.

She gave you another polite smile and nodded. “Of course. Have a safe flight.”

With your suitcase discarded, you adjusted the strap of your purse and walked through the set of doors. You swore everything was soundproofed- there was virtually no noise at all in the suite.

Sure enough, you found yourself walking up to a much smaller security check, with workers in much sharper attire than you were used to. When you had flown to London, you were just flown out like an average person- no special checks or anything. But now, you thought, people knew your face. You had been on a mahout television network with a major actor. You were no secret, so your agent must have arranged to have this done.

“Hello.” You said, approaching the staff who watched you with practiced composure.

“Good morning, ma’am.” They replied. You knew the drill, and wanted to make their lives as easy as possible, so you quickly opened up your bag, and took out anything that needed inspecting; next you slipped off your coat, and it’s contents, along with your loafers- which you were thankful to have worn due to their easiness to get off and on. Then you stepped through the metal detector, and was checked over one more time with the handheld scanner before the guard nodded and said, “All done. Thank you for your patience.”

You smiled and went to the bins containing your belongings, and made quick work of re-dressing yourself. “Thank you so much, don’t work too hard!” You called over your shoulder as you continued to the main waiting area down another hall. You swore you had gotten in your exercise for the day by the time you passed yet another set of doors. This time, however, you were greeted with a very welcomed sight.

Christoph was sat in a far more comfortable lounge seat than the average airport seating, with his nose in a book. You wondered how he always looked so perfectly at ease, yet classy at all times; from his crisp, white button-up with the first few buttons undone, to his ironed charcoal slacks down to his brown boots.

You made note of several other faces in the lounge; some familiar and some only just nagging the back of your mind where you swore you knew them from somewhere. The tinted windows cast a gentle light inside, and you had to keep from sighing at how it seemed to illuminate the Viennese man.

The longer you stared at him, you found that you were suddenly bombarded with the memory of him being inside you just hours ago, and an unwanted blush spread across your cheeks. With your heart beating harshly, you let a grin spread across your fresh face as you walked up to the older man. Your steps finally caught his attention, and Christoph looked up; you noticed his double-take, and smiled when he slowly put his book down and grinned.

“Guten Morgen.(good morning)” You said as you approached. Christoph blinked, stood, and extended a hand to take your bag without waiting for you to answer his silent request.

“Guten Morgan mein liebe(good morning my love).” He murmured, and held his arms out to pull you in for a hug.

Normally you would have been concerned about privacy, but in the exclusive suite so one seemed to pay too much attention to each other.

The older man’s arms wrapped around you and you suddenly felt like you were home. His scent calmed you, and his warmth made you feel safe; any shaking in your hands, or butterflies in your gut settled.

“Wie bist du, mein Schatz?( how are you, my darling?)” He asked as you sat next to one another.

“ Gut(good)…I won’t lie though, I really thought I was being kidnapped or something when I was dropped off here.” You said, looking around at the lavish interior. Christoph’s brows pinched for a moment in confusion, but his face relaxed when he realized that you meant you hadn’t seen this side of fame yet.

“I must admit I do miss the anonymity…” he murmured, nodding, “I hate this little circus.” He gestured to the room. Always a man of privacy.

“You don’t ever fly economy anymore?” You asked.

“When I am not promoting something I do prefer a ‘normal’ flying experience… to be as inconspicuous and integrated as possible…” he said, putting air quotes around ‘normal’. You smiled at him, and settled into your seat; the two of you lapsed into comfortable quiet . Just as you went to slip on your headphones to disappear into some music, Christoph leaned over ever so slightly to you and whispered, “Nice sweater.” With the tiniest of smirks on his face, knowing very well that it was his, and that he had slipped it over your head that same morning himself as you both got ready.

Your cheeks burned when your mind remembered his hands on your waist as he had pulled you against him to kiss you. How he had pulled away sharply when you had moaned softly into his mouth, and you had seen that devious spark in his bright eyes. How he had lifted your thigh up onto his hip-

Christoph needed no response from you- your inability to look at him and your unmoving hands were enough of an indicator that he had fluster you. You did your best to relax yourself as you awaited the flight time to approach; it seemed however, that no matter what you tried to occupy yourself with, your eyes glazed over and your memory of the man beside you played in a reel behind your irises.

“Good afternoon passengers, this is your captain speaking. We have a clear sky set out ahead of us this fine February day. Please fasten your seatbelts….” The generic speech made by the captain through the speakers was practically a buzz in your ear as you took in the extravagant part of the plane. It was advertised as business class, but with what you were used to it seemed more like you were royalty.

The sheer amount of leg room you had almost made you cry with happiness alone.

“…y/n?”

You finally tore your eyes from a woman just a few rows down from you who you could have sworn was Gal Gadot, and looked to your side. Christoph was watching you with amusement in his eyes and a raised brow.

“While I am certain you are enjoying this new experience, I am sure you would enjoy it far more if you clipped that belt on before we get told off by the frightening stewardess.” He said quickly as the woman in question was walking up your aisle. You clicked the seatbelt on, and did your best to relax. Taking off was always one of the worst part; of course it was exhilarating and beautiful once the plane breaks through the clouds, but you never seemed to quite calm your nerves. Your hands had a slight tremor to them, and your eyes began to dart around once you felt the plane pull away down the runway.

Without a word, you saw Christoph place his hand palm up on the arm rest between you. You looked down at it, then up to him, and he only watched you calmly. After a moment, you placed your hand in his, and felt his fingers interlock with yours. A wave of calm washed over you, and your shoulders relaxed.

The plane sped down the runway, and finally lifted into the air. Your stomach flopped and you clenched your jaw in an attempt to ground yourself.

For the first hour of the flight, you listened to music to distract yourself. You let your mind wander in an attempt to forget that you were hundreds of thousands of feet in the air. Every once and a while, you would look over at your companion, and watch him as he continued his book. Christoph would look up occasionally, and ended up catching you with a small smile of his before returning to the words on the page as if nothing had happened.

Your fingers tapped on your thigh to the rhythm of the piece of music flooding your ears. It was only when you felt a hand on your arm that you snapped out of your trance and looked over at the older man. He pointed to your headphones, and you removed them to hear him.

“What are you listening to?” Christoph murmured, nodding to your phone.

“Oh- Ave Maria.” You said, holding your phone screen for him to see.

The older man’s brows rose up in surprise, then nodded, and thought for a moment, “May I?” He asked, holding his hand out.

You nodded happily and handed him the wireless headphones, which he slipped over his ears. You lowered the volume to be careful of his hearing-aids, and hit play. Over the course of your friendship with Christoph, you had shared your music with one another often; it still made you a little giddy when he asked so politely.

After learning more about him, you knew very well that opera and music in general was a huge part of his life, and had been since he was a boy. Watching Christoph experience the piece of music was almost like watching a performance in itself. His eyes would crinkle at the side when a part came that he liked, and he ran his index finger along his lower lip in thought.

Once the four minutes had passed, you could see a small smile on the older man’s face, and you found yourself comparing him to a small boy who had been given candy. Christoph slipped the headphones off and handed them back to you.

“Beautiful.” He said gently.

“It is.” You agreed. You looked down at your hands, biting the siding of your cheek, let glanced up at Christoph who was already watching you tenderly. He seemed to have a permanent softness to his usually intense features when he gazed at you; you had thought it was nothing up until last night. But oh how wrong you were.

Your comfortable moment was interrupted when one of the stewardesses approached the two of you, and leaned down. “Good afternoon. May I interest either of you in a drink or lunch.” She said politely.

You had jumped at her sudden appearance beside you. Your stomach growled, but you shook your head. “I’m good, thank you.”

And to your surprise, you heard Christoph say, “May I request a blanket for my companion and I, please?”

The woman’s eyes flicked between the two of you for a fraction of a second before she nodded and smiled, “Of course, sir.” She said.

The stewardess left to finish her rounds, and while you wanted to ask Christoph why he had requested a blanket, you found your answer yourself. On your arm where your sleeve had ridden up were goosebumps.

Your heart nearly exploded right there with the thought that Christoph had noticed before even you had.

“You’re not hungry, mein Schatz?” He murmured as he tucked away his book.

“I am…but I’ve never been a fan of plane food. And I would rather not have an upset stomach while being interview by James Cordon.” You said with a little laugh.

He nodded in understanding. If there was anyone who would share your sentiments on pre-prepared food, it was Christoph Waltz. There was a reason why he was so healthy, and his aversion to food like that of a plane’s was one of them.

The stewardess returned a few minutes later with a very plush, large blanket, and handed it to Christoph; he laid the blanket over you and and him. It was only then that you realized how cold you were in the air conditioning. Your cheeks joined your warming limbs when the older man took your hand in his under the fabric and rubbed his thumb against your skin. You smiled gently.

To your surprise, Christoph released you and leaned over to the far side of his seat, and opened the compartment under his chair. When he sat back up, he was holding his bag, and placed it in his lap. You watched him as he unzipped it, and looked around quickly as if he was hiding a huge secret. Your brows pinched together, but you almost kissed him when you saw him produce three containers of packed food.

You almost laughed when he raised his index finger to his lips as if to say “shh.” Then he nodded to the stewardess who was on the next isle over.

You bit the inside of your lip to keep from laughing, and nodded. His serious expression didn’t help your efforts though. Christoph quickly and efficiently opened the containers, and you found that it was definitely some very well made food from the hotel. He handed you one of them, and kept one for himself before quickly bringing the blanket over the container and nodded at you to do the same. Not a moment later, the stewardess came by your seat, and paused for a moment.

“Are you both warming up?“ she asked, though her eyes flicked to both of your laps.

“Much better, thank you.” You said innocently.

You knew she knew. You could see it in her eyes. But she gave you a tight smile before going back to her station at the front of the business class section.

You both look at each other, and could not help but giggle. Christoph chuckled and shook his head before removing the blanket and began to eat carefully. You joined him. You moaned when the delicious food began to fill your empty stomach, and visibly saw Christoph pause at the sound.

You felt your cheeks warm when you realized he must have been thinking of the two of you the night before.

You finished half of the food, then snapped the lid back on and handed it to Christoph when he was done. Another two hours dragged by and you felt your eyes become heavy. You looked over at Christoph, and studied his face. The slope of his nose, and his defined chin. Before you knew it, your head had fallen onto his shoulder and you drifted off to sleep with his hand cradling yours.

Christoph smiled down at you, and after a glance around the aisles, brushed some of your hair from your eyes, and could barely concentrate on the words in his book.

Landing in Los Angeles was far more stressful than you had anticipated. A group of inconspicuous guards greeted both you and Christoph, and began to guide the two of you to another large black vehicle. Outside the airport, you noticed a spattering of photographers and reporters looking for a celebrity to bother. To your horror, a group of them spotted you, and your ears were flooded with the sound of clicking cameras, and a onslaught of questions- some interesting and many invasive.

You kept your head down, and tried to focus on Christoph and the sound of your suitcase behind you. A few of the paparazzi were pushed away by the guards, but many of them persisted all the way up until the car pulled away.

You let out a long sigh, and felt Christoph grasp your hand again.

“I see what you mean about missing the anonymity.” You joked, and he breathed out a laugh.

You had barely had a moment to settle into your hotel before you were carted off to the tv studio. All you had had time for was to wash off the grime of the airport from your skin, freshen your face with some makeup and slip on your dress. You had been given a far too beautiful dress by Oscar de la Renta to wear, and you found yourself not quite feeling comfortable in it. You still felt like you didn’t deserve it all.

Your apprehension must have shown as your nails began to dig into your hand. Christoph looked over to you from beside you in the backseat, and took note of your hands.

“You look wonderful, my dear.” He whispered to you.

You looked over to the older man, and found him staring right back at you as the car pulled up to the studio. He grasped your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, before stepped out of the car. You took an extra second to prepare yourself and went to open the door, but was beaten to it when the Viennese man held it open for you.

“Such a gentleman.” You teased him. He only shrugged slightly and placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you.

The two of you were taken into the massive building, and guided down a series of halls until the staff member opened a door to a dressing room. Everything still felt so surreal as you stood there, and looked around. You knew that countless celebrities had stood exactly where you were. You remained standing for a moment in order to get some water, and Christoph took a seat on the couch; you almost wanted to take the time to curl up into his side, but you knew that not only were there cameras, there was a high chance of someone walking in, and you weren’t about to go against Christoph’s preference for privacy.

“ You look very handsome.” You commented, looking at him shyly across the room. Christoph tore his eyes from a poster on the wall, and smiled at you; he held his hand out to bring you closer. A smile faced your face to match his, and you sat yourself next to him and played with the water bottle in your hand.

“Is James nice?” You asked finally.

Christoph shrugged and said, “What I can tell you is that I do not entirely want to walk off the studio when I am here.”

You laughed softly at that. “So he’s no Jimmy Fallon?”

Christoph chuckled and shook his head, “Not quite.”

Before you knew it, there was a knock on the door, and a head poked in. “They’re just about ready for you both. If you’ll come with me?” The woman said. You recognized her from watching previous interviews, and almost got a strange sense of deja vu.

You stood, and Christoph gestured for you to walk ahead of him. You focused on your breathing, and tried to replace the nerves you felt with excitement.

Just like with Graham, you listened to the tail end of the monologue that was beginning to introduce you.

“…from Inglorious Bastards and Spectre, but this time he is joined by the newest addition to the Tarantino family in this years Rapture. Please welcome Christoph Waltz and Y/n L/n!”

Just like before, your ears rang when the audience clapped and cheered. If you had had it your way, you would have followed behind Christoph, but he was having none of that; he remained behind you with his hands folded behind his back.

You pushed your shoulders back and you were blinded for a moment when the curtain was pulled back, and the audience roared on either side of the aisle leading down the stairs. You plastered a smile on your face, and waved as you took the lead and descended the stairs. You shook hands and high-fived a few people as they reached out for you. As a viewer, it was quite endearing to see, but to actually experience it was a little intimidating. You hoped against hope that you didn’t accidentally hit someone in the face, or tip down the stairs; to your luck, your feet finally found flat ground, and you made eye contact with James Corden as you walked up the steps to the stage.

Fan or not, you were a little nervous. Just like you had been with Graham, this was someone you had watched countless interviews of over the years. The band was even riffing an improved song to welcome you and Christoph like you had seen them do for names far bigger than yours.

James clapped and extended his hand to you as you approached, which you shook enthusiastically.

“Welcome, welcome to the show!” He smiled and said over the crowd’s clapping.

You smiled back and nodded, “Thank you so much. It’s wonderful to be here.” You managed to say.

He released your hand and you took a seat on the grey couch, thanking god that this one had a back to lean against. You watched Christoph take the steps up to the main stage, and lost yourself in watching his mesmerising charm. You still didn’t understand how people thought of him as rude or unfriendly- he was far from either of those.

Christoph quickly joined you on the couch after being embraced by James; his warmth next to you calmed your nerves instantly. Then, like a tonne of bricks, you remembered the running joke that Christoph was in love with the bassist on the show, Hagar, and your stomach grew steely almost instantly. Yes, you had watched many of his interviews, and that particular one had always made you feel something. You hoped that your sudden change in mood didn’t show.

Why am I jealous?

You fought with yourself to remain calm and remind yourself that he was a person and allowed to flirt with people…besides he didn’t even know you the last time he was on the show. Your existential crisis carried on silently behind your grin for 10 seconds as you dreaded his going and saying hello to her. But to your surprise, he only gave the woman a little wave- a stark contrast to the detour and handshake had given her the last time he had been on the show.

Your thoughts were cut off, however, when James began the interview.

“Now Christoph I must address the elephant in the room here.” James said, looking at the Viennese man in a chiding way, but Christoph only clasped his hand in his lap and looked at him calmly, “Our dear Hagar was snubbed by your arrival this evening!”

The audience laughed.

“Not at all, I waved.” Christoph said simply, demonstrating the action.

James laughed and in a fake serious tone said, “ Is there someone else?”

And to his shock, Christoph smiled and shrugged.

There was a slight “Ooh” that echoed through the crowd, and you were so thankful that no one would feel how warm your cheeks were. James did a double take, and stared at the older man with his mouth open, not expecting that answer.

“Who? Who is it? I won’t tell anyone I swear-“ the room laughed, “This is totally a secret…only the entire world will know.” He tried to keep his laugh in.

You smiled and laughed along as if it wasn’t you that had been pinned beneath the older man with his cock bruising your cervix and had a hickey from him on your breast. You squeezed your thighs at the memory of it, and to your horror, you saw Christoph catch the tiny movement.

The men continued to stare at one another for a moment in a game of chicken. Finally, James broke and laughed it off.

“Well now I have to ask you, y/n, how on earth did you handle meeting Christoph at first? I understand that you were sort of…thrust into this role. No offence but he’s not exactly a teddy bear.”

“Like you, you mean?” You teased back, and James let out an unexpected laugh along with the audience. You continued, “Well if I’m honest, Mr. Waltz is very different behind the scenes. He’s actually very kind to those he likes.”

James looked between the two of you and got that you were implying that he didn’t like him. “Ah. I see.” He said in faux dejection and inspected his cards.

“If I may be quite honest,” you looked to the older man next to you who was watching you intently, “ I was so nervous when I found out I would be working near Mr. Waltz, and my anxiety was off the charts- the rest of the cast didn’t help at all,” you laughed good-natredly, “And my hands were shaking and I swore I developed asthma within two minutes because lungs were definitely not working…but everyone was so so kind and welcoming. I still have nightmares over all my first meetings with everyone, but I don’t think I could have asked for a more grounded cast to work with.” The audience awe’d and clapped, and you smiled. “I swear after every take where things got physical, someone would come up to me and ask if I was alright.” You laughed again.

“Hey now…no one does that here!” James gasped, looking out at his team, “Must be nice to have people who care about you.” He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips as he gave his team a cold shoulder.

“Now, Christoph this is now the third Tarantino film you have done, is that right?” He asked, moving the conversation along.

“It is, and I hope not the last.” He said, casually adjusting himself in his seat, and placing an arm around the back of the couch by your shoulders.

James noted the action instantly, “What would you say is the biggest difference between this role and the other two you have played?”

Christoph sucked in a breath at the silly question.

“This one was quite a departure from the usual characters I have portrayed in the past with Quinton…not that any of them have truly been similar. I would say that the only shared trait would be the fact that each of them…” he waved his hand, “…do away with people for a living in some way.”

“That’s very true,” James gasped in realization, “Hans Landa the Nazi was…well a Nazi, and King Schultz was a bounty hunter, correct?” Christoph nodded along and you could see him remembering the roles with fondness, “And now your character in Rapture is named Maximillian, and he is…some sort of hit man? Is there something you’re trying to tell us?” James laughed.

“Not at the moment.” Christoph quipped. You grinned and listened along politely, enjoying their banter, though you could tell that Christoph was not as at ease here as he had been in London.

“Well…someone keep an eye on him, yes? Is he always like this?” James held his cards to the side of his mouth to pretend whisper to you.

To humour him, you leaned forward as well, “Always. It’s great- a nice departure from the usual conversations.” You said looking over at Christoph tenderly. He held your gaze a little longer then he should have, and something in James clicked. He leaned back and stared at the two of you comically then out at the audience who was clearly picking up on his message. They began to laugh softly.

“Should- should we all leave?” He asked looking around.

“Hm? No, why?” You asked innocently, leaning into Christoph’s arm just to mess with him.

James stared at the both of you, but you both maintained a stoic, innocent face and shrugged when he widened his eyes at you as if to try and drive his point home. The audience’s laughter only grew and you joined.

“Right,” he said unconvinced, “Well I do have something to show the two of you. Last night, the two of you were on another show, and y/n you sang a frankly beautiful version of Vienna, correct?” James asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him, dreading what was in store. “ Correct.”

“Well it seems that the clip has gone quite viral, and fans have lost their minds over the two of you, and have been editing the song Vienna over clips of you two in the film, Rapture, take a look.” James said, and pointed to the screen off stage.

Your hands went ice cold as a series of short fan edited videos played on the small screen just off the stage. You did your best to remain calm, but you were in complete shock at the detail the creators had put into the videos. Some even took clips from the interview and captured little looks you had given each other and hadn’t even noticed. What you had thought was just a little cheeky gesture to humour a host, now felt like a huge mistake. You were worried that Christoph would break things off out of fear of being plagued by the media; honestly you wouldn’t blame him if he did. Having a relationship in the spotlight was almost impossible.

You chanced a glance at the older man, and he was watching the screen with a little, amused smile. Just as you went to look away, Christoph caught your head turning and looked over at you. He gazed at you softly for just a moment, and you felt the hand behind you stroke your shoulder; it was so quick that if you had blinked, you would have missed it entirely.

Suddenly, the audience began to clap, and all attention was on the both of you. “Look at that, wow.” James shook his head, “The two of you broke the internet overnight- do you understand how big that is?” He gushed.

Christoph gestured with his hands as if to say, “It’s not a big deal.”

You laughed along with James and the audience, “It’ll be one hell of an opening night on Friday that’s for sure…just a heads up though, it’s not just Mr. Waltz and I in the film.” You said as if you had no clue what he was referring to.

James pursed his lips and looked unimpressed at the camera like you had seen in sitcoms. But his good-natured smile returned quickly as he shook his head.

“Well I can’t say your wrong- they’ll be selling off tickets on Ebay! Y/n, Christoph it’s been a pleading to have you here. That’s all we have time for tonight, go see these two in Rapture on Friday night, don’t miss it! We’ll be right back after the break.” He said in true talk-show host fashion. You and Christoph waved and smiled as the cameras panned across you both, until the producer at the front gave you all the sign that the broadcast had ended.

“And we’re out!”

You breathed out a sigh of relief and went to thank James for his time, but he beat you two it.

“You two are a menace and I will get to the bottom of this.” He said with a small smile.

“James did you hit your head today?” Christoph asked innocently.

James looked at him, ready for a deflection, “No…not today.” He hid his smile. You could tell he appreciated the older man’s humour.

“I only ask because it seems you are imagining things.” Christoph said and squeezed your shoulder visibly, making James glance at the motion and roll his eyes.

“Right, Right. You two keep your secrets.” He joked, “It was lovely to see you again Christoph, take care. And y/n welcome to the industry, and good luck with this one.” He pointed with his cards to the older man beside you.

You laughed gently and nodded and stood with Christoph, “Thank you so much. It was a pleasure.” You both shook his hand, and let a staff member guide you from the stage, back to the dressing room.

You waited patiently as they unclipped your mic and guided you both down the hall to your waiting car outside. You found it calming to stay quiet after an interview, letting your nerves to calm down. You slid into the plush backseat first, and Christoph slipped in next to you.

As soon as the door shut and the driver turned on the radio, you sucked in a breath.

“Christoph if that bothered you, I understand…” you murmured, not looking at him.

He shrugged, “No one can prove a single thing…I am not terribly concerned.” He sighed. You went to speak again, but his firm hand slipping under the skirt of your dress and onto your thigh made any words in your mouth die on your tongue. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Christoph smirk, and lean over to you in the dim backseat.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice your predicament, mein Schatz.” He purred in your ear, “Would you like me to help?” His hand moved a little higher, and you could only nod.

“Gut(good).” He released you just as quickly as he had touched you, and you let out the breath you had been holding. This man was going to be the death of you- your were certain of it.

That night, after you had been sufficiently exhausted by the older man, you laid your head on his chest and traced circles on his chest as you thought lazily.

You didn’t remember falling asleep. But Christoph watched every moment of you drifting off. He watched as your finger on his skin slowed and how your soft breath grew heavier; how your muscles relaxed and you let your walls down. He kissed your head and cradled you in his arms.

And there he stayed.

In a state of pure rapture.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@purplelupins @funandfancyfree

#christoph waltz x reader #christoph waltz #reader insert #actor x reader #quentin tarantino #dr king schultz #colonel hans landa

136 notes · View notes

headoverhiddles · 3 years

Text

The Romance Of A Yellow Rose - Dr. King Schultz x Reader [Smut]

Words: 5.6k

Synopsis: You and King get married, and celebrate your first night together by consummating the marriage.

Commissioned by a friend! Enjoy.

Your eyes open on the rugged planes of the Southern state the three of you had found yourselves in. As you roll over to stretch the sleep out of your body, you find a single yellow rose, native to this area. A smile grows on your face. It’s King’s way of saying good morning to you, as it had been for many months.

For years now, you had been tagging along with Schultz and Django. Having attached yourself to their travels three hot summers ago, the two men had become quite fond of your travelling company; King in particular. Over time, your relationship had evolved from a companionship, through friendship, to having romantic feelings for one another. You were the first to admit to them; King hadn’t wanted to say anything, as he still held a fruitless hope that one day he could return you to the pleasantries of the normal life you once knew, before it had been uprooted. But as the months passed, you getting more and more comfortable and (dare he say) suited to the lifestyle of a bounty hunter, it was becoming apparent that you were going nowhere. Not without him, anyway.

Hildy had decided to stay with some friends in the North while the three of you travelled the country on business. Texas Jack, Turkey Creek and Jack’s wife Camarilla were more than happy to keep her with them. It had put Django at ease at least, knowing they had one less person they had to worry about with them catching a bullet. Hildy was even teaching Camarilla different things she had learned over the years at their home, and the four were getting on fine from what Django took from her letters to him. King wished you had enough sense to stay with them, but where the older bounty hunter went, you went. You had made that quite clear.

Today, a warm day in mid October, you, King and Django were headed to visit a plantation in Conroe, Texas. There an outlaw by the name of Amos “Sly Eye” Little had been posing as an overseer for 3 months, flying under the radar on the small eastern Texan plantation. He wasn’t a particularly dangerous outlaw, only wanted for his habit of skipping out on poker games before paying up. Three months ago, he ended up double crossing the wrong man which led to legal involvement, and now to deter trouble in peaceful towns he was wanted dead or alive by the state. King and Django had discovered upon visiting this plantation that the family who owned it had been dodging the law for a while as well.

After the slaves had been freed by King and Django, this outlaw family just so happened to get in the way of a few bullets. The last man left alive on the property is now Amos.

“Back here!” you call. King dashes toward you, swiping you out of the way as a bullet whizzes by your ear. You sit in shock for a moment, King’s arm still around you. For a man who isn’t very dangerous, this Amos sure is trigger happy.

“Django!” King shouts, but his partner is already far ahead in pursuit. “Never listens,” the doctor mutters, loading his shotgun and aiming. You watch as Django dodges a couple more of the outlaw’s bullets before grabbing Amos by his collar, lifting him up a few feet. The man tries to scramble for his gun, but Django of course is faster. Just as he’s about to fire at close range, King clucks his tongue, looking through his target. “Bullseye.” Your eyes shut briefly as the snap of the bullet leaving the gun jolts you closer to the older man. He pulls you out of sight once more as the bullet hits Amos through the side of his head, out the other side in a bloody deluge. Django jerks his head up your direction, dropping the corpse into the carnage at his feet.

“I was handling it!” he mutters.

King comes out from behind the tree, helping you up with one hand. You brush off your pants as you both approach the other man. “You were being hasty again,” King says.

“I was handling it,” Django insists with a look. You two nudge arms amiably, and King gives you a disapproving look.

“You are encouraging him.” He turns to Django. “And you’re encouraging her.”

“What’s wrong with a little congratulations?” you giggle. “You got your dead cowboy.”

“I would trade a thousand dead cowboys to keep both of you alive. You’re the best things that have ever happened to me, do you know that?” King gives you a meaningful look, before brushing off Django’s jacket and squeezing your hand. “Forget this place. We’d better get the horses and get out of here.”

Taking the initiative, you go off in search of Tony, Fritz and Ida, your mare. Django approaches King, taking off his bloodstained gloves. “You talked to her yet?”

“She doesn’t know, no.” King looks down, nervously stroking one side of his moustache. “I was waiting for the right time.”

“You wait any longer, she’s gonna be burying her husband to be.” King doesn’t bother taking offense—he knows Django is right. He’s much older than you—not one foot in the grave as Django likes to tease, but older. That had been another source of insecurity for him during the burgeoning relationship, but you had made it clear that you didn’t mind; in fact, you liked the difference in age. King’s fellow bounty hunter interrupts his thoughts. “Y’all should get married here. Nice place, no one left in it now.” Schultz looks around the grounds. It is pretty, and it would be nice to marry you in such agreeable weather... but King shakes his head.

“No Django. This place was built on treachery and suffering. It would be not only tasteless, but bad luck to get married here.”

When you three make it to the next town in the state over of Arkansas, something is waiting for King at the inn.

“You Doctor Schultz?” the innkeeper asks, spitting tobacco into a spittoon. King nods, taking out his billfold. The innkeeper sizes him up. “Yep, man who sent this said fella looking like you’d be coming through here. This’s for you.” He takes a letter out from behind the desk in one of the cubbies, and slides it across. King expects it would be from Texas Jack, but it instead it’s from a different friend in the North; a sheriff acquaintance he had written to before about his situation with you. Thanking the man, you all head upstairs, and when King gets to a desk, he slips on his reading glasses.

Thought you’d make your way through this here town, Schultz-

Sounds like a hell of a woman, the one you’ve told me about. You softie. Knew you wanted to settle down, and it’s about damn time, too. What the hell are you doing with her down in the South then? She oughtta be up here. Maybe I’m biased, but there’s a lot more law n order up here. Better people too. I am biased, spose.

You asked me what I thought about asking for her hand. Why wait to marry her? Hell, bring her up, we’ll have a ceremony here! I’m not only a sheriff, but an ordained minister too. Bet you didn’t know that. Wouldn’t kill you to ask. Anyway, no reason why I can’t make things look good, clean up the place nice and host your happy union. Got some more birthday cake here too, for someone to eat. Pretty good.

Come on up when you finally convince yourself she won’t say no.

- G. A.

“You got a letter back from Sheriff Snowy Snow?” Django smirks. King stares at the letter in his hands for a long while, before looking up at him with a smile.

He could do it. He could finally ask for your hand.

“Django, my boy. We’re going to Nebraska.” You overhear, and turn back with the bags.

“Up North? What for?”

“To see an old friend of mine, fraulein,” King says, taking the bags from you to carry inside. “Sheriff Gus Arnett.” You smile. It’ll be nice to get out of all this heat and around some likeminded people—people who King can relax and be himself around.

You had all stopped off to pick up Hildy in Boston after travelling by train through the Southern states and switching back to horsepower as you made your way up through the wintery landscape of barren northern land. It was worth it, of course; King and Django had insisted Hildy come too, and you had been happy for female company.

“Has my troublemaker been behaving himself?” is the first thing Hildy asks you, kissing your cheek in greeting.

“About as much as mine has,” you laugh.

“Coming from the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. It is you who has been the naughty one,” King chastises you right back.

“Maybe one day, you can teach me a lesson for it.” King blushes as Hildy lets out a loud laugh at the connotations of such a taunt. He knows you’re still virginal, waiting for marriage as you’ve told him before. Once united by matrimony, that’s another wall that could be knocked down between you, if you decided you still wished to give yourself to him.

It was no secret you wanted King, and he had made it plain he would wait for you—he’s a gentleman in every sense of the word. Still, men have needs, and some late nights it had been hard. Many evenings by the fire had ended with you in his lap, grinding down as you kissed him with feverish intensity. It had always ended the same way however, with you heading off to sleep alone and leaving him with nothing but his mind to picture what the next hour may have felt like. This time, King feared he wouldn’t last once he finally got to feel you as he’d wanted to for so long. Either way, he had a silver tongue, and experience in the art of pleasuring a woman. He wouldn’t leave you wanting; whatever you needed he would give you.

Arriving at the snowy lodge some days later, Sheriff Gus Arnett comes out the front door. A couple of minks and rabbits are hanging from the roof over the porch, and two pairs of boots caked with snow are drying outside by a wooden rocking chair that had been collecting frost no doubt since September.

“King Schultz and Django Freeman, in the flesh! Come on in with your little ladies!” he says, opening his arms. You approach first, and he shakes your hand with the assurance of a man who’s not used to gentle handshakes. “I don’t believe we’ve met, ma’am,” he says softly, “But any friend of King’s is a friend of mine. Especially a friend like you.” He winks at you and smirks over at King, who ushers you in out of the cold quickly. Gus tips his hat at Django and Hildy, closing the door after they come in.

“Like I said,” he sighs, “We got some cake. Y’all want some?”

“Perhaps we wait until after dinner?” Schultz proposes.

“I wouldn’t mind some,” Django speaks up, giving King a look. King just chuckles.

“Go ahead, my boy. I was a dentist, remember. Old habits remain, I suppose. Would you like some, (y/n)?”

“I’ll have the piece you didn’t want,” you tease. You lean closer to him to brush your lips against his ear. “When it comes to you, I want everything.” The former dentist swallows. This proposal couldn’t come at a better time, as things between you two are heating up.

That night after dinner of rabbit stew and some leftover cake for dessert for everyone but your beloved, everyone had retired to bed a few hours after the sun had gone down. In your own room, you set your satchel on the bed of clothing you had been travelling with in the South, and just as you’re about to unpack, a knock at the door distracts you from your task. King slowly pushes the door open—he’s dressed in his white shirt and grey vest, his hair freshly combed back. It seems counterproductive to groom that well before bed, but to be fair, you had never personally witnessed King’s nocturnal habits in a place that allows such a luxury. He offers his arm, and when you take it in curiosity, he leads you out the back porch of the lodge home. The wind isn’t too cold tonight, but he still wraps his arm around you. The mountains are beautiful out here, and the snow has stopped for the night to allow for a crystal clear view of the surrounding landscape, snow white on the bottom and starry black on top.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been able to sit together like this,” King says. “Just sit and enjoy one another’s company alone. It’s very rare we get time just the two of us without our faithful hero.” You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Mm. We’re usually around a campfire, with Django snoring behind us.”

“At least we don’t have any of that to score our evening. I think Django’s gone to bed with Hildy in there.”

“You should be in bed too,” you fret. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I never have been very good at that. I’m a light sleeper, fraulein. Especially when I have lots on the mind.”

“You know what helps me when I can’t sleep?” You smile. “Something I learned from you.” King turns to look at you, a soft chilly breeze blowing the silver blonde hair from his eyes.

“What’s that?”

“A story.”

King ducks his head, and pulls you closer to him. “I think that would do the trick. Go on then, my love. Will you regale me?”

“I know a story of a deep running love, where a woman slowly developed feelings for one who she learned to depend on.”

“A common story, no?” King teases.

“Shhh. She loved very freely, but this was different. She not only loved this man, but worried about him when he wasn’t around, yearned for him, desired him in ways that drove her crazy sometimes.” King’s breath audibly quickens.

“And what did our heroine do about this tumultuous situation?”

“Oh, she took care of things. But not like she knew he could.” His breath hitches. You bite your lip as you go on. “The two had been together so long... learning one another’s quirks, laughing at little things and sharing moments others wouldn’t understand. They knew what scared them, what made them smile. At the end of the day, she told the man a million times how she adored him. But she was afraid he still didn’t know how much.”

King rubs down your finger, eyes trained on it before looking up at you. “I think I do.” You forget whatever you were going to say next as King rubs his rough fingers over your knuckles, bringing them up to his lips to kiss them. His beard grazes your skin pleasantly as he opens his mouth. “Will you be my wife?” Your heart skips a beat.

“Truly?”

“True as my love for you.”

“Tomorrow?”

“If you wish.” You lean in to kiss him.

The door bangs open, Gus tosses a pail of water out all over you two. He realizes where you two were sitting, and his eyes widen.

"Gott verdammt."

“Oh, hell. I’m— what are the two of you doing out—?” He can’t even finish his sentence—you’re laughing too hard. King tries to keep up a grumpy facade at the fact that you had both just been drenched in ice water in this weather, but he can’t help it. Your laughter is infectious.

“Please tell me there is enough boiled water for a bath,” he sighs, and you shiver. “For the fraulein, at least.”

Django and Hildy had been up to witness the commotion from the noise of it all, no doubt committing the sight to memory for future teasing. They returned comfortably to bed with one another, which was a comfort you and King couldn’t currently afford in your state.

You get to work drawing the bath as Gus passes you each pails of hot water. King comes in, shedding his dripping fur coat and tugging at his tie. Your eyes drift down to his chest, then back up to his face. King subsequently tries to distract himself so as not to focus too hard on you. You had stripped down to your slip, which was stuck to every curve of your body from the water. The temperature hadn’t done much to help any other evidence of the cold, around your breasts. He tries not to look too long.

“Would you take me out of this?” you ask. It’s a harmless question, but King’s thoughts run wild. He could simply refuse you, but what reason would he give then? That he couldn’t control himself around you, so close to your wedding night?

“Of course,” he sighs softly, and approaches. He takes the back of the slip and undoes the buttons, helping you pull it over your head. He inches it up, the wet material dragging along your skin. He turns to go as you’re revealed, and to his dismay, you don’t stop him. Only one more night, and he could have all of you.

As you step out of the lodge, it’s as if you’ve stepped out into a painting. A light dusting of snow is falling over you, snowflakes catching in your eyelashes and melting tracks down your cheeks like tears of happiness. King is standing there at the end of the pathway shovelled out, just by the small lake. It’s frozen over, reflecting the light of the moon through every little icicle hanging from the branches of trees hanging over top of it. Mountains soar around the group of you, boasting the most beautiful landscape you’d ever seen.

King takes your hand as you approach. Beside him, you see Django dressed in a handsome green winter’s jacket, black leather gloves pristine. On your side, Broomhilda is wearing a beautiful green dress under layers of a form fitting brown jacket. You’re in a beautiful snow white dress with furs covering your shoulders and a fur hat. King is also wearing his grey fur coat. The two of you join hands, and recite vows.

“I know I’m a considerable number of years older than you,” King tells you softly, “But I promise to make up for this. I promise to protect you with my life, cherish you, and support you in every endeavor you wish to pursue.”

“I will stay by your side no matter what,” you tell him, “I’ll be brave when you can’t be. I’ll be strong when you need me to be. I’ll love you as long as my heart beats, and oppose anyone who tries to take you away.” Kindness in his eyes, King smiles down at you, crow’s feet crinkling. He lifts your hand up to kiss.

“Do you take this man?” the sheriff asks.

“I do.”

“Do you take this little lady?” King sighs out through his nose, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

“I certainly do,” he breathes.

“Well hell, you may kiss the bride then!”

When King leans forward, you surprise him by taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around him, deepening the kiss. It lasts for an eternity between you, and when you part, King brushes the snow off your rosy cheeks and presses his lips to your forehead.

“Ich liebe dich,” he whispers into your hair, and you slide your arms around his middle in embrace.

Inside the bedroom upstairs, a fire crackles in the hearth. The curtains are open to the snowy view outside, and the frost on the glass only makes you savour the warmth inside. King pours you some bourbon, and comes to sit down beside you in front of the fire. As you cuddle into him, he puts a hand on your back and draws you in for a kiss, his beard pleasantly tickling your face. Bourbon forgotten, the kiss deepens, and you feel his tongue slip into your mouth as you part your lips for more. You pull away, smiling.

“Can I ask you something?”

He looks at you. “Of course. What are you thinking about?”

“How does it feel?”

King looks at you. “You will have to be a little more specific.”

“How does it feel to finally consummate a marriage?”

He stares into the flickering fire. “We don’t have to do it if you’re nervous.”

“I didn’t say that,” you say, crawling over to straddle him. King welcomes you into his lap. “I just wanted to know. You’ll show me?”

“I would love to.”

“You know I’m inexperienced.”

“I do,” King nods.

“Isn’t that undesirable?” King seems offended that you would even suggest such a thing, at the very least ruffled by the idea of it.

“My dear, of course not. Being inexperienced merely means I can show you how to do things.” He hums against your neck, grazing his lips down.

“I’m not completely clueless,” you breathe as you tilt your head back to give him better access. You stand in one smooth movement in front of the fire, leaving King sitting and gazing up at you. “I know what fucking is.” You hear his exhaled breath.

“Yes. I would assume you wouldn’t be entirely in the dark about that.”

“But I’ve never felt it,” you whisper. “I wanna feel it, King.” He doesn’t get a chance to respond. You undo your dress, lace by lace, letting your fingers twine slowly between the hooks. You sigh his name as the corset comes free, recalling how you’d longed for him to do this last night, and you hook the straps of your dress under your thumbs, sliding it down to reveal the slip beneath. You hear his breath hitch, but he doesn’t make a move.

You run your hands down over your ass, letting out a soft noise. You hear him readjust where he’s sitting, and you work now on the cream coloured pants beneath the white gown, sliding them down ever so carefully.

“(y/n),” King whispers.

You let out a moan. “I’ve been wanting to get out of this the entire ceremony just to see how you would look at me, seeing me like this for the first time.” You swing your hips a little, arching your back, and finally wiggle some more as you drop your pants to the floor. King’s breathing is heavier now, and you stretch your arms above your head, sighing again as you let your hair free. “Like I said. I may not have done this before, but I know a lot more than you think I do.”

“I’m not certain I believe that, my feisty little one,” King huffs, averting eye contact. Oh, no. Not tonight he doesn’t. You’re only in your chemise now, and you turn to reveal smooth skin he’s never seen before, bunching the fabric up just enough to give him a peek of the v of your hips.

You can see the visible outline of his hardened cock in his pants, straining against the tight confines and desperate for some kind of relief. You put one leg over his lap to straddle him.

“Touch me?” you whisper, and reach down. He doesn’t stop you, just watches closely as you bring your hands to his pants, untie them, and reach in to take his cock in your hand. He does as you say, returning the touch with his hands up your back, taking the straps of your chemise down. He takes a shallow breath as your fingers come in contact with his warm cock. You grin wickedly, swiping your thumb up to spread his precum around a little. He meets your eyes as you pull him fully out of his pants.

“Oh,” he huffs gently, head falling back a little as you stroke him once.

“Is that good?” you ask softly, pressing a kiss to his ear. “Am I doing it right?” King stutters a little, gasping for air when you swipe over his swollen cockhead again.

“You are doing just fine,” King whispers, lips parting.

“Mmm,” you mumble, pressing a trail of wet kisses down his face and lazily taking his lips between your teeth, leading into a dizzying kiss full of tongue and one another’s slow breath.

“Stop. Wait my love,” King mumbles, stalling your wrist with his hand. You pout.

“What’s wrong?”

He opens his eyes to look at you, pupils blown with lust. “After a show like that, I am at your complete and ready service, not the other way around. Tell me exactly what you want me to do,” he whispers gently, and you get off of him, lying back on the floor like a princess awaiting a treat.

“Could you pleasure me with your mouth?”

Your cheeks heat, but King nods with a smile, dispelling any nerves you might have for such an intimate display of sensuality. He lays you on the floor, pressing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone and across the top of the soft skin of your breasts. His hands come up to gently hold your hips down as they circle upward—he moves your legs so he can brace himself between them, pressing more kisses down over your stomach to the impressions on your hips he’s left with his fingers.

“I want you to have me,” you whisper. King strokes one hand along your thigh.

“It takes time to discover each and every spot that will make you weak for me, lieb,” he mumbles, mouthing at your panties with a practiced finesse. “Be a good girl now for me. Be patient. There is more to come.” The bounty hunter takes the panties down with deft fingers, sliding the fabric down your legs until you’re bare to him. Your cheeks heat, but he reassures you with a starstruck gaze, looking over your body like a lovesick man. He dips his head back down with a soft kiss to your thigh, reaching up to hold your hips as if he’s predicted your body’s reaction already. He presses a reverent kiss to your clit, and his tongue takes a sweep of your folds, making you quiver as his beard scratches the soft skin of your thighs. His prediction proves correct when your hips jerk up as he gives his first lick between your lips. You reach back to grab the carpet, before deciding instead to grip onto his blonde and silver locks where his mouth works between your legs. It’s a surreal pleasure—unlike anything you’ve felt before, and you want more.

“Does that feel good?” King asks. All you can do is nod, but he encourages you to tell him exactly how you feel. “Use your words, fraulein.”

“Yes. Don’t stop,” you sigh.

“My good girl.” King dips back down, swirling his tongue around your bud until you’re shaking. Taking care to hold you close to him, he moves himself up until he’s grinding himself against you. “I want nothing more than to be inside of you,” he whispers.

“Take me as you wish then,” you groan.

“Tonight is about you,” he murmurs against your skin.

“I want it.”

Unbuckling himself, he takes his time slowly working a finger inside of you. He adds another and gently curves them up, before gauging your reaction. Going by the desperation in your face, he slowly replaces his fingers with his cock, pausing every inch to check and see if you’re still alright. You can tell how he’s exercising his restraint—you’re so tight, and all he wants to do is take you until both of you are sweaty and screaming, but he must make this last. You can feel him sliding into you, and his hand comes up to hold yours. Your eyes screw shut as he finally bottoms out, and he presses a kiss to your chest. “Tell me when it is okay to move.” You nod.

“Please.” He starts up a slow pace, covering your body with his as he takes his time with you. Too desperate to take the time King might have in mind to teach you patience, you push your lips harder against him, and roll over on top of him. You kiss the bounty hunter, again and again until your lips are swollen and King is painfully hard inside of you.

“Lift up your shirt for me,” he whispers, his voice gentle. “That’s it.”

“Have me,” you mumble.

“What was that?” King asks, “You must use your words if you would like something, hm?”

You blink up at your older lover. “Please take me King,” you raise your voice, and he smiles.

“Hm.” He gives you an affectionate smile. “I have no choice but to oblige my lady love when she asks as nicely as that. Very well. As you wish.”

He pumps in harder, ripping a groan from you. You’d dreamed of what this would feel like, and it turned out better than you had imagined, King’s soft sighs and the rocking of his body against yours heightening every touch he grazes your sensitive skin with.

A moment later, he pulls out and flips you over gently. He then positions himself between your legs and brings his mouth back down between your legs, suckling around your clit again. “King,” you whisper, breath hitching.

“Louder,” he encourages, and goes back to masterfully taking you apart with his tongue. He soon encourages you to sit on his face, and you do, feeling him lick you perfectly as the pleasant feeling of his beard returns to tantalize your skin. He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue as you reach down to touch his cock. It’s a foreign feeling in your hand, but you soon get the hang of the motions, twisting your fist and using his precum to slick your strokes.

“King... don’t stop,” you groan, his tongue delving just barely inside of you. He moves off of your pussy as you moan, and licks his lips.

“I must admit, I wanted nothing more than to do this all day,” he groans as he moves back up your body, “But I am a gentleman.”

“Too much of one sometimes.”

As if in challenge, he picks up his pace and starts to grunt your name, leaning down every now and then between thrusts to press a kiss to your breastbone as his face scrunches up. You love how uncharacteristically possessive King is getting– it turns you on beyond belief. Your moans grow loud as the bounty hunter’s cock fills you over and over again, satisfying your need for him as your noises blend together into the creak, groan, gasp of making love for the first time.

“K… King…” you groan, breasts bouncing with every thrust. His breath is hot on your neck, and he presses an open mouthed kiss there.

“You are astonishing,” he whispers, “You’re perfect… oh, bitte, bitte Fraulein, you feel so nice… you are my everything.”

“King, just like that, oh god–” you groan, and he makes a noise at your slutty display, reaching up to massage your breasts. You feel your orgasm approach as he continues to touch you, and his hand quickly comes down to rub your clit.

“Ah,” you moan, and clutch his shoulders. King sighs, feeling your pussy squeeze him, and with a stuttered thrust he cums as well, spilling inside you. Soon, you’re crying out his name, and he squeezes your hand tighter as you both finish at the same time, the love you share burning at the height of its passion as your bodies become one. You both rock together to ride out your orgasms until you’re satisfied. Panting breaths mingle as you snuggle close to him.

“Is that what all the fuss was about?” you tease. King frowns at you, and you laugh into his chest.

“Into bed before I take full offense to your jokes, beloved,” he murmurs. You nod, smiling as he helps you up with one hand and carries you bridal style over to the bed covered in furs for a warm night’s sleep together—finally together.

"I am lucky I have such a pretty creature warming my bed tonight," he jokes, "A plucked chicken like me should be very grateful." You huff another laugh, rolling over beside him to finally tuck in with your love.

"I've only ever wanted you. That'll never change, no matter what." You grin. "Tonight only helped solidify that fact."

"So you are with me for my talents in the bedroom, ah!"

"NO--"

"I understand it now."

"King!"

"Shh. Let's sleep now. We will argue like an old married couple in the morning."

The next day, Hildy and Django are already in the living room of the lodge. Gus is in the kitchen making up some breakfast.

“You look radiant this morning,” Broomhilda says, smile wide.

“Yeah. You do look pretty good. Different,” Django nods, narrowing his eyes as if to try and decipher what could have changed about you. Hildy just rolls her eyes, turning back to you from her own husband.

“So. Where’s your significant other?” You grab yourself a cup for the coffee that’s brewing, settling in across from them at the table.

“He’s still sleeping. He worked hard last night.” Tucked in the pocket of your nightgown is a single perfect, yellow rose he had saved you from the South, one King had left his new wife to find upon waking.

#dr king schultz #dr king schultz x reader #king schultz #king schultz x reader #django unchained #quentin tarantino #christoph waltz #christoph waltz x reader #django #django fanfiction #tarantino fanfiction #dr schultz #reader x dr king schultz

332 notes · View notes