#laszlo kreizler x reader

[mypoisonedvine]

𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 | laszlo kreizler x reader

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 | being a traditional, well-behaved woman, you saved yourself for marriage. but the things your new husband has planned for you are... less than traditional, and might just show how poorly behaved you can be.

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 | over 9k

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | SMUT (18+ only!!), virginity loss, age gap (unspecific; laszlo is in his 40s, reader is probably 20-25), multiple orgasms/overstimulation, fingering, oral f receiving, squirting, shy/innocent reader, religious reader (but nothing tooo shame-y or anything), some innocence kink, a hint of medical kink?, slightly pervy laszlo?!?! (moreso he's just a wee bit of a weirdo and says some cringe stuff but like. that's just his vibe sorry)

Laszlo was such an impossible paradox of a man.  Especially compared to the sort of man you always thought you’d marry— what you’d been raised for, even.

An accomplished doctor, a successful and wealthy man of high social standing— a kind, sensitive, intelligent, and patient partner who made you feel beautiful and special and, for lack of a better word, fancy.  That part was exactly as you’d always imagined for yourself, though you had never really believed you could find someone so wonderful.

And then there was the other half of him, the pieces that even in your wildest dreams you would’ve never thought would make up your future husband.  First of all, he was quite a bit older than you.  Even your parents, who had always preferred for you to marry someone already established (as they put it) rather than your own age, were a little concerned that he was in his mid-forties, and only a year younger than your father.  Of course, that was nothing compared to their offense at his profession, and the subsequent open-mindedness he had towards people your parents would rather pretend didn’t exist.  Then again, Laszlo himself having his disability made him the sort of person they would rather pretend didn’t exist, though he’d managed to hide it relatively well.

Maybe they could’ve forgiven any of that.  It was the atheism that put the final nail in the coffin, unfortunately… and someone as brash and unapologetic as Laszlo had no interest in hiding his beliefs to appease your parents.  He hadn’t brought it up, of course, or protested to the crucifixes and cross-stitched scriptures on the walls; but when they’d asked if he was Catholic or Protestant, he told them directly that he was a man of science and didn’t entertain any metaphysical notions or, as he’d so thoughtfully put it, fantasies.

They instantly forbade the courtship and warned you never to see him again.  And maybe that was when he surprised you most— he was so romantic, so… dashing.  He took a carriage to your home and literally threw pebbles at your window, daring you to climb down the lattice and join him for a midnight adventure.  It was then he suggested that you marry him anyways— he had more than enough to take care of you after a disownment from your parents.  He promised to give you anything you wanted, to treat you perfectly, to spend every day trying to keep you as happy as you made him without even trying.

There it was again, the contradictory enigma of Laszlo Kreizler.  A serious, even stern man, proposing to you like a lovestruck teenager.  He had eschewed fantasies a few evenings ago only to turn around and ask you to jump headfirst into a fairytale.

You said yes, though.  You really didn’t think twice about it— you knew he would be good to you.  And you knew you’d never loved someone like you’d loved him before.

You wanted to run away right then and there, but he told you to go home for a few more days, to gather your things— he would send for them while your parents were out, and you could move in with him as soon as you were ready.

When you did move in, though, he seemed a little surprised that you asked for your things to be moved to a spare bedroom.

“Is everything alright?” he asked you softly, stepping closer to you as you crossed your arms over yourself nervously; you waited until you were sure Cyrus was out of earshot, carrying your bags away, before you answered.

“Yes,” you replied quietly, “everything’s fine.”

“It’s understandable if you’re feeling conflicted now,” Laszlo assured.  “Having just left your parents, and not knowing if you’ll see them again—”

“It’s not that,” you promised.  “Well— of course, I feel something about that, but I’m happy to be here with you.  That’s not my issue at all.”

“Then what is?” he pressed.  “I hope you feel that you can tell me.”

You sighed as he reached up to brush your cheek; his touch always soothed you, though it felt a bit different here, in his home.  Your new home.  “I just… wouldn’t feel right about being in your room, until we’re married.”

He nodded.  “Of course.  I shouldn’t have presumed.”

You smiled a little, though it was more out of nervousness than anything.  “I… I wondered if you thought my parents were the only reason that we never— that nothing had—”

“Shh,” he soothed, pushing your hair back from your face until you looked up at him.  “I don’t expect anything from you now.  Well, only that you do whatever you like to make yourself feel at home here.”

“And what… what will you expect from me once I am your wife, Dr. Kreizler?” 

Though you were a little afraid to, you met his gaze; his brown eyes seemed deeper than ever, and you were powerless to look away from them.  “What do you think is right to give me, when you are my wife?”

You sighed a little, feeling his hand on your cheek move carefully down to your neck, his gentle fingers brushing along the smallest part of your collarbone exposed by your dress.  Words escaped you; you wanted him to know that just because you wanted to wait for him didn’t mean you didn’t want him.  Even before, even when you first met him, your mind had supplied you with thoughts that sent you straight to the confession booth.

You wanted to be one with him in every way you could think of… you just needed some to come before others, to feel right with your own beliefs.  Even if you loved an atheist, and felt surprisingly little guilt for it, you were still religious yourself and wanted to honor God’s intention for marriage.  

Didn’t mean you couldn’t yearn for your soon-to-be husband, right?  It certainly didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the full benefits of physical intimacy when the time came.

But obviously, you were far from brave enough to say all that.  Instead, you found your hands wandering to his chest, following the pattern of his suit coat up to his shoulders, biting your lip without even realizing it.  He simply continued to watch you, and you got the feeling that he understood you better than you could explain it yourself.  One of the bonuses of being loved by an expert on the human mind, perhaps.

You were almost in a trance, not noticing how long you were spending just gently touching and holding him in this simple way— until you looked up and met his gaze again, and felt a little weak.  “Can we marry soon?” you asked softly, almost under your breath.  You hoped he wouldn’t tease you, you weren’t secure enough for him to mock your obvious eagerness, to call attention to your desire for him.  Thankfully, he stayed perfectly serious, because he was just as affected as you were.

“As soon as you like,” he replied earnestly.

It was probably for the best that Cyrus walked in to the parlor at that moment, and you instinctively pulled back from Laszlo, crossing your arms again.  “Your bags are in the downstairs bedroom, madam,” he informed you, “down the hallway under the stairs.”

You nodded at him as Laszlo responded, “Thank you, Cyrus.  That will be all.”

He left, and you looked at your fiance again, feeling a bit silly for what he’d seen in you a moment before.  But he smiled at you, and you figured he’d be the last person to judge you for any of that.  “I’ll give you a little time to unpack and freshen up, if you like,” he offered.  “I hope you’ll join me for dinner at seven this evening.  I believe we’ll be having quail.”

“Of course— thank you,” you smiled, watching him begin to turn to depart.  But for a second, he hesitated— like he didn’t want to leave you— and you prayed he wouldn’t kiss you.  It’s not that you didn’t want him to… you wanted him to more than anything.  He’d only kissed you once before, at the end of a particularly exhilarating night out together, and you hadn’t stopped thinking about it for a moment since.

So no, it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to kiss you.  It was only that, if he did, you knew you’d have trouble letting it be just a kiss.

Therefore, you were just as relieved as you were disappointed when he departed without incident.

///

A few days later, you eloped.  You hadn’t felt much urge to have a ‘proper’ wedding when no one you knew approved of the marriage anyway— they were all too deep in your parents’ pocket, unfortunately.  And even if anyone cared enough to come, Laszlo refused to be wed in a church (you thought maybe he would bend on it if you really begged, he was overall quite accommodating to you, but it wasn’t worth your trouble) and so it would’ve just been another scandal.  

Truly, you were just as happy this way— it was the happiest day of your life, really.  You left the courthouse as Mrs. Kreizler, wearing a stunning silver band he’d had engraved with your new initials and flowering vines all around in a swirling, whimsical pattern.  His band was simpler, but you loved it even more— just because it was his, and seeing him wearing it made your heart skip all day.

Anticipation for your wedding night only grew with every passing moment.  Laszlo himself was in the bathroom with the door shut— you heard the sink running, the various sounds of him preparing for bed.  You were just trying to get your heart to slow down, trying not to have any specific goals or expectations for the evening.  Today had already been perfect.

But, of course, it was hard not to imagine what was next for the two of you— your things had already been moved into his room.  A vanity had been placed in it as well, a wedding gift from Sara Howard (a friend of Laszlo’s you had become acquainted with during this whirlwind romance), and you were using it now as you prepared yourself for bed.  You were already in your nightgown, having changed after Laszlo left the room (not that you had to, but it felt more natural that way), and you were carefully unpinning your hair from its meticulous style.

As you concluded the final steps of your evening routine, you saw the bathroom door open behind you in your reflection; your husband emerged, wearing an embroidered silk robe that offered a view of a sliver of his chest— not very much, but more than you’d ever seen.  You didn’t notice the way your thighs pressed against each other more tightly; he approached you slowly, and you eventually turned to look at him directly.  With you still sitting on the vanity’s padded stool, he towered over you when he stood close… and as you lifted your head to look up at him, his hand brushed softly along your jaw.  You tilted into his touch just a bit, smiling at him while your heart fluttered.

“You’re so beautiful, mein Schatz,” he whispered, and you felt a little giddy when he talked like that— he’d only ever indulged you in his German after having a few drinks, so this instance caught you off-guard in the best way.  Not to mention he’d called you Schatz before— treasure, apparently, and a common term of endearment— but he’d never tagged it with mein before.  And you were his, truly.  You were glad he’d waited to say it until it was actually true (even if, in a certain sense, it was already true before).

He motioned, rather subtly, for you to stand up.  It seemed simple enough, but you felt a little shaky as you did it— a nervous excitement, like the kind you would feel before a piano recital or debutante ball.  Except those were all public engagements, and this was as private as anything could be.

Touching your face again, he wove his fingers back around your neck, his thumb cradling your jaw right in front of your ear.  And he kissed you— just like that, quick at first but then slowing down as you both sighed a bit.

You admired how easily he’d done it, and thank god for it, because you would’ve spent quite a while working up the courage.  This was different from the night you’d kissed him after a few weeks of seeing each other— it was very different from the kiss you’d shared at the courthouse earlier that day.  It would’ve made sense if there was a sense of neediness to it, as if he were making up for lost time or relieving all the anticipation for this night.  But really, it was all rather relaxed, at least on his part.  Like he had all the time in the world: which, you know, he did.

You, on the other hand… you were feeling a bit more out of your element.  Not that you weren’t enjoying this new one so far, it was just a little unfamiliar.

His hand floated lower and traced down your back— delicately, with the tips of his fingers brushing your skin through the thin fabric until chills started to run over you.  You gasped a little into the kiss, and put your hands on the patterned lapels of his robe; you didn’t actually push him away, but he pulled back as if you had, examining your face carefully for a moment.

You hadn’t needed him to stop, but you were a little glad he did: just a moment’s break from it all before it became overwhelming.  His fingers still traced gentle shapes on your lower back through the nightgown, and you found your gaze drifting to his chest, to your hands resting on it— and your own fingertips ventured into the exposed piece of his chest.  His skin was paler here, with a reddish-blondish patch of hair just starting to be visible.  You touched it, taking a quick and shaky breath, and wondered why something inside you tightened as you pet him here.  He was so… masculine.  His looks weren’t sweet and boyish, no: he was broad and strong (he would deny that one if you said it, but to you he was) and sharp around the edges, and it was something you never expected to excite you so much.

But you loved that you could still feel a bit of friction from his beard after he’d kissed you.  You loved the subtle scent of his cologne, how sturdy he felt under your touch.

Your hands drifted up to his face, fingers brushing through his hair slowly, and he smiled at you.  His hair was just a bit long for what was typical of men these days, and you enjoyed combing through the dark brown locks and noticing the little golden highlights in the dimmed light of the room.

The hand on your hip pulled you closer, pressing your body against his, and you tried your best to relax into the warm strength of his form while your heart kept racing.

When he kissed you again, he moved in slowly, watching your face before his own eventually met with it, and you fluttered your eyes shut as his lips gently pressed to yours.  This time, you found yourself leaning in for more, kissing him back with more passion; you let out a little dampened moan when his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, taking the next opportunity to gently move further into your mouth.  

He broke away all too soon, embracing you even tighter, pressing his cheek to yours.  And when you, in turn, wrapped your arms around him and pressed yourself against him everywhere you could… you felt it.

Even if you had very little knowledge about this sort of thing, you understood what that hard, curved shape was, pressed just above where your hip met your stomach.  You knew what it was, and your body did too— heat pooled at your core, every touch awakening you even more.

“Oh,” you sighed shakily, holding tighter onto him to just have something to hold onto.

“It's alright,” he whispered, soft words floating on his breath which tickled under your ear.  “It's alright, my darling, I won't hurt you.”

You hummed softly in return, nodding as his lips brushed over your cheek, then moved to your neck.  “I know,” you replied.  “I trust you, Laszlo.”

But you couldn't help but gasp when his tongue teased your pulse, his teeth gently grazing the most delicate places they could find.  His grip at your waist tightened when you whimpered.  “Is this pleasurable to you?” he asked softly; even such a formal statement made you shudder when he said it in that low, buttery voice…

You nodded, your back arching slightly to press yourself against him, but you felt him smile against you suddenly.

“I'd like for you to say it,” he explained, an unfamiliar darkness to his voice.

“It's… pleasurable,” you panted.  “When you kiss me there… it's like I feel every touch s-somewhere else—”

“Where, my love?”

“Here,” you sighed, grabbing his hand from your back and moving it between your legs.  He instantly cupped and rubbed your mound, and your knees nearly buckled from the pleasure.

“Mein Gott, you're so sensitive,” he observed, his own voice sounding a little strained, “I've hardly touched you.”

“L-Laszlo, just touch me more,” you pleaded.

Though he’d been so careful until that moment, he suddenly started to pull up the skirt of your nightgown rather hastily, nostrils flaring as he bent down slightly and worked to hoist the fabric up.  Finally, he got under it, but teased you by rubbing and groping at your thighs instead; under his breath, you just barely heard a growl before he began to kiss your neck again.

“Even if both my hands were strong, I'd wish for more to touch you with,” he mumbled against your skin.  “I'd still want to cover you entirely, reach every part of you at once.”

Well, you liked the sound of that, but one hand was doing you plenty of good already— especially when it slid back up to cup you again, making you sigh and moan as his fingers slipped through your folds, spreading your abundant wetness all around.

Desperate to return even a portion of the sensation he was giving to you, you placed your hand against the bulge in his trousers.  Though the shape and firmness of him made you gasp excitedly, he only let you rub it for a few moments before sighing and moving your hand away.  “Not yet, my darling,” he instructed.  “It's best if we take this one step at a time, for now.”

You felt a little silly, having to be held back like that, but you nodded.  He obviously knew better than you about all this.

It was almost too much, the way he was touching you: you had your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders to try to keep yourself upright, frankly.  And yet, for how overwhelming it was, you heard yourself saying—

“More, please,” you begged, “I-I need you, just give me more, please—”

“I will,” he promised roughly, “but not here.  I think it’s only right that I take you to bed, hm?”

If you weren’t all worked up, you might’ve made some witty comment about how at least the bed’s not too far or whatever— but no, you just let him guide you the few steps to the mattress, and you sat on it as you simply awaited further orders.  So little that he’d done to you, and you’d already do whatever he asked in exchange for continued attention.

You watched him roll up his sleeve— it took him a little while with the weaker hand, but you didn’t mind letting this moment last— and didn’t even notice the way your mouth had gone slack, you were nearly salivating.  “Lay back, darling,” he instructed simply, still looking at his sleeve as he finally folded it up to his elbow, “and open your legs.”

You obeyed, of course, and bit absent-mindedly on your lip as you slowly lifted your knees and parted your thighs.  There was no point being shy now, of course— and you were more than eager for him to get back to doing what he had been before— but you still felt a nervous hesitance that made your hands (and heart) shake slightly.  Something about stopping to get in the bed had brought a bit of sobriety to the moment, and you realized in retrospect how desperate you must have looked.  Surely he wouldn’t hold that against you…

He lifted your skirt again, up to your hips, and hummed lowly at the sight of your sex.  Your face burned hotter; you liked the way he touched it, but you didn’t feel entirely comfortable with him… staring at it.

Still, it was the sort of slight discomfort that felt oddly… good?  Yes, you were a bit embarrassed and exposed at the moment, but it felt wrong in that fun, naughty sort of way; it made your hips shift a little, presumably in hopes of some friction.  Thankfully, their wish was answered: his hand was on you again, pulling your lips apart, slowly exploring you until your eyes fluttered shut.

“May I touch you inside as well?” he asked— as if there was any risk of you turning that offer down.

“Y-yes, Laszlo, please,” you whispered, whimpering as you felt the tip of his pointer finger— suddenly it seemed a little thicker than you remembered— press up to your entrance and ever so gently slide inside.

“Just one to start,” he narrated softly as that one finger made your toes curl, only one finger making your hips twist and your back arch.  How could he do that to you so easily?  “And my thumb can help with this lovely little organ you have…”

His thumb circled your bud, and you shuddered all over— even inside— and instantly struggled to catch your breath.  “Laszlo, what… what is that…” you breathed, whimpering when he rubbed it again.

“Your clitoris, my love— you’ve never touched here before?”

He should’ve known you hadn’t— even if you had… explored yourself out of childish curiosity probably a decade ago, you would’ve remembered if it felt like this.  Shaking your head, you were surprised by his little growl.

“Your poor girl,” he cooed, something a little attractive about the slight condescension of it.  “You have so much to learn.  I can’t even imagine the things you’ve never felt before…”

He slowly moved the pad of his thumb up and down over the flesh, which only grew firmer as he continued.  “Oh!” you whimpered, hips rocking back against his touch— it was so wild of you, you thought, but you couldn’t really stop yourself.  He pressed harder and your whole body jumped.  “Fuck!”

He laughed a little, and your face got warmer.  “I’ve never heard you use language like that, Schatz, but it sounds impossibly adorable when you say it.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you began, “I couldn’t help it—”

“No, don’t apologize,” he insisted, “I’d rather you said it again.  Whenever you can’t help it, of course.”

You knew that Laszlo knew more than you about many topics, being a highly-educated man of great intellect, but you hadn’t expected him to introduce you to an entirely new body part that you’d been carrying with you this whole time.  If you’d figured out how to do anything like this to yourself, you might have spent your entire adolescence trapped in your room, so maybe it was for the best that you never put it together.

You weren't sure how any woman was meant to learn these things— you figured she wasn't meant to, unfortunately— but if she had a choice, you'd certainly recommend this method, provided she could find her own husband to try it with rather than borrowing yours.  What a visceral and beautiful way to learn how much that little organ could really do: Laszlo rubbing it with his thumb, with just the right amount of pressure to make a loud moan crawl out of you.

“The noises you make are just delightful, my darling,” he praised.  “Keep going, so I know what I should do.”

“Just do that,” you begged, “just keep doing that.”

“Only this?” he pressed.  “I shouldn't even add another finger?”

Of course, that was when he did— gently pressing his middle finger to your opening until it accommodated it, and you heard your own high-pitched whine in disbelief that you'd made the sound.  “F-fuck, that feels… Laszlo, you're so—”

But you interrupted yourself, because he did something so diabolical with his fingers just then.  He'd only twisted and scissored them inside you for a moment before curling them up, rubbing the most delicate place you never knew you had— just as he pushed down harder on your poor clit.  You felt ravenous all of a sudden, terribly overwhelmed but greedy for more.

“Please, oh god, please—” you started to beg before you even knew what you wanted.  He knew what you wanted, and he gave it to you: more.  It wasn't even very significant of a movement, and yet it turned your whole body into his plaything as you started to shake all over.

“You react more than I ever expected, my darling,” he cooed.  “I never dreamed how well you would respond to my touch.  I've only just begun and I think you're already nearly there.”

Before you could wonder where he was talking about, he pulled his fingers out of you carefully.  You heard yourself whimper a little, opening your eyes and looking at him worriedly.  He smiled, seeming to enjoy how much his interruption seemed to bother you; “Take off your nightgown, my love,” he requested plainly.  “I think I’d like to get a good look at you before I go on.”

Sitting up (and finding your head a bit more dizzy than you expected), you started by unbuttoning from your neck halfway down to your chest, before lifting the thin garment up over your head slowly.  You felt so strange doing this— undressing in front of a man— but your heart pounded with hope that he would enjoy what he saw.  Tossing the dress aside, you sheepishly bit your lip and waited for his assessment as his dark brown eyes grazed over your nude form.

He moved a little closer, his hand running up your leg and then around your side, reaching up to carefully cup one of your breasts.  You breathed deeply but unevenly, your chest rising and falling against his touch.  You were almost nervous that he hadn’t said anything yet, but the look in his eyes just became more and more clear; you whimpered under your breath when his fingers brushed over your hardened nipple, ever-so-delicately pinching it until your hips shifted a bit in response.  “How beautiful you are, my love,” he whispered, making you squirm again with just his words.  “Is it true you’re really my wife?  This lovely, delicate body that only I can touch and caress, laying next to me every night… I don’t know when I’ll really believe it.”

You had to shut your eyes for a second— you might be too brash if he kept on like that, praising you so tenderly.  “You could’ve been a poet,” you told him with a little smirk, blinking open your eyes again as he guided you to lay back once more, “if medicine didn’t suit you.”

“Oh, I’m no poet, Schatz,” he smiled in return, taking one more careful squeeze of your other breast before moving down to pet inside your legs again.  “All I am is painfully honest.”

His fingers slid inside you again, and you could’ve sworn he was rubbing inside you a bit more firmly than he had been before— thrusting a little faster, pushing a little deeper.  And all the while he was staring down at you, back and forth between your face and your hole, with a delicious darkness in his eyes.

It was still a patient endeavor, so much so that you never really noticed that he was getting a little quicker and rougher with it.  You really didn’t figure it out until you heard yourself choking out his name, groaning and gasping louder than you meant to— but you couldn’t suppress it very well, either.

You soon began to realize what he meant before with that nearly there comment, without even having any prior knowledge of what it could be… there was something instinctive about it, something totally natural.  You didn’t know what was coming, but you understood it; you knew you were on the edge of something and that if you could just get there it would be perfect.

Still, you couldn’t have known how much you would enjoy it.

You couldn’t stop moaning— it was this all-surrounding, ecstatic feeling, like… sinking into something.  Relaxing into something… something warm and soft and good.  Even a lifetime of religious repression couldn’t convince you this was anything but perfect.  Actually, nothing had ever felt right quite the way this did.

Your back arched rather dramatically, until you had a good view of the headboard upside-down; and he gave you few more fast, rough pumps of his fingers into your shaking body before slowing down to a stop and letting you rest.

Suddenly drained, you melted back down onto the bed with a long whine.  “How did that feel?” he asked, sounding a little formal about it, and you only could muster a little, exhausted laugh because what did he think you were going to say?  ‘It was alright, tickled a little bit, but I didn’t mind it.’

“That was… you… you’re so—” you began a few times, giving up to open your eyes wide when his fingers pet up and down over the seam of your lips, gently exploring you, making you quiver from how sensitive you’d become.  You weren’t even done recovering from the stimulation and he was giving you more; he seemed sort of absent-minded about it, the way he gently and repetitively slid up and down and up and down through your slick and swollen folds… but it was deliberate, you knew it was, because he smiled when you moaned weakly.

One finger pressed inside you again, and he watched your face closely and you shuddered.  You were just the slightest bit sore, and it felt like that one finger was more of a stretch than before… which seemed impossible, but with the erratic pulsing of your walls, it was a little hard to keep track.

You gasped sharply when he put the second finger in you once more, almost snarling a bit as he watched you react so strongly.  “Laszlo, I— I don't think I can do that again—”

“You can, I'm sure of it,” he encouraged, curling his fingers inside of you, which required a bit more force with your channel bearing down against him in response.  “It might even come faster this time, that little spot is all swollen now—”

Before he could finish that sentence, he proved it by circling the place, making your hips jump up as another whine eked out of you.  “O-oh, I— fuck…”

He smirked a bit, a delicious smugness to his expression, and the emotion looked much too good on him.  “See?  Just let me take control, my love.  I think you'll like what I do, if you simply let me do what I like with you.”

Fuck, that had to be the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard.  You were biting your lip to try to keep back the flood of terribly embarrassing things your pleasure wanted to say for you: you can do whatever you like with me; I'm yours; I'd do anything for you; don't ever stop, but also if you don't fuck me soon I might lose my mind, you know, things of that nature.  Instead you let out a muffled moan, and nodded to make sure he knew that he had your permission for whatever he thought was best.

And, of course, he’d been right about you: that you’d be even more sensitive after coming, and would be able to go through it all over again.  It only took probably a minute or two of dedicated, precise stimulation for the feeling to grow again… except it felt a little stronger this time, like it was building past the point that it had broken at before.  Maybe your tolerance was higher, or something?  You really weren’t qualified to say— all you could think about was this sensation, this tension, and the way he looked at you as you started to shake all over.

Your eyes fell shut instinctively, your shaking hands clutching at the bed under you; you felt sort of numb all over, except instead of everything being dulled and distant, it was only heightened.

“O-oh, oh, Laszlo, I—” you tried to warn him, words escaping you as the heavy, almost sharp feeling gathered tighter and tighter…

“Give into it,” he insisted, “it’s alright— I want to see it.  I want to hear you, I want to feel you when you come—”

His voice was getting darker, rougher, more demanding as he went on; and in the same way, his fingers’ thrusts into you became more aggressive.  “Fuck, I— I think I’ll— oh god!” you yelped.

“Yes,” he encouraged, “let go, darling!”

Your arms flailed around for a second before finding a lump in the sheets to grab onto tightly, your hips rocking against his hand, your head falling back in a scream; it was so intense, and so sudden, and you felt like the pressure that had been building broke so violently that it would’ve been painful without all the ecstasy running through your veins, numbing you inside and out.

You could tell that this one was different— hotter, warmer, wetter— but you had no idea what you’d done until the high had started to fade just a bit.

His hand slowed down to a stop, you heard him quietly catching his breath, and you blinked your eyes open… that’s when you noticed small wet stains on his rolled-up sleeve, and shiny fluid along his forearm— and a very proud grin on his face.

You felt your eyes go wide and your cheeks start baking.  He spoke up before you could even try to process what to say: “That was excellent, my love— I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so magnificent,” he praised.  “You’re incredible.”

You wanted to believe him, but it didn’t really offer much explanation.  “Laszlo, I… did I—?”

“No, darling, don’t worry,” he cooed, scooting a little closer on the bed as he pet the inside of your thigh.  “It’s natural— one of the… rarer ways that a woman’s body can respond to stimulation.  I’ve always found the concept fascinating, but until now, my knowledge was… purely theoretical.  Actually, I’d love to gather your perspective on the experience, possibly for a future research paper on the topic— but that’s an issue for another time.  There’s a more pressing matter I need to discuss with you.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious what matter could be discussed in a time like this.

“I… I'd like to try something else,” he announced, and you dropped your head back on the bed in a sort of defeat.

“Something else?!” you whimpered, still catching your breath from the last thing he had “tried”.  “What else could there be but making love?”

“That will be soon, I promise, I just… I can't resist such an opportunity,” he explained.  “Your scent is so erotic, and it's only grown stronger now that you’ve so generously covered my arm in your ecstasy.  And with anything that smells so delectable, one can't help but crave to taste it.”

You'd only heard about this before— sort of a dirty schoolyard secret, almost an urban legend.  The whole thing had always sounded odd to you, if maybe not as icky as you thought it was when you first had the concept whispered to you as a child.  You didn't realize it was actually something you might experience someday, assuming it was a practice reserved to the especially perverted.  Now that he was offering it, you found yourself biting your lip as you tried to imagine what it would be like.

“I'd like to pleasure you with my mouth,” he concluded, really spelling it out for you.  “Would that be alright?”

You weren't sure what to think of that, and yet you were already nodding yes.  This was your husband, after all— who else could you trust to do something like this?  Most of all, you did it because you wanted to please him.  Because he'd asked you for it.

He smiled a little when you agreed, and began to lean down between your legs.  Those deep brown eyes seemed to sparkle more than ever when he looked up at you, but his gaze couldn't stay with yours for long before he had to give a closer look to your cunt.  He carefully spread the lips with his fingers, humming at the sight.  “I wonder if it's even possible for you to be as delicious as you look,” he spoke quietly, and a needy whine caught in your throat.

It was just a gentle kiss to your clit first… then another, with his lips parted.  Then he started to ever-so-gently suckle at it, tongue softly petting it; he wasn't doing too much, physically, but you never could catch your breath while he was doing it.

You whined a bit when he broke away, looking down at him in search of an explanation but finding instead him looking back up at you with an indescribable look in his eye.

“How does that feel?” he asked, his voice rougher and darker than you'd ever heard it before, making you shiver gleefully.

“Wet,” you blurted out, making him smile a little, a small laugh on an exhale through his nose that made you feel a bit foolish in an unexpectedly pleasurable way.  “A-and warm… please don't stop, Laszlo, it felt so nice…”

He got back to it, a little more intensely than before, and your eyes rolled back when he really started to lap at you with his tongue— harder and wider each time, making you writhe from the intensity of it.

You couldn't even describe the sound you made when he pushed his tongue inside you.  He moaned against you in response to it, though, and thank God, he kept going.

He kept petting your thighs, even encouraging you when your legs clamped down around his head unintentionally; presumably that was his way of saying it wasn’t giving him any pain, which you were a bit concerned about, even if you couldn’t really stop yourself.  Sometimes you had the strength to meet his gaze, but most of the time you felt like you’d melt if you looked back at him— the way he was staring up at you was just too fiery, too intense, too beautiful.  

Just when you thought you were getting used to the pattern of his tongue’s movements on your clit, he gently pushed his two fingers back into your pulsing channel.  You were all tingly and sore inside, but a long, deep moan fell from your mouth as your back arched.

“Beautiful,” he praised, the word muffled by what he was doing— which he got back to more urgently than ever, twisting and thrusting his fingers inside you carefully at first.

“J-just like that,” you pleaded.  “Oh, Laszlo, I— I didn't know anything could… feel like this…”

You could feel the smallest smirk on his lips as he continued; even just being able to feel his smug smile there was such a lovely, erotic, totally novel concept to you.  

When he really buried his face in your legs, you could feel the roughness of his beard against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and buttocks, and god was it the most beautifully filthy feeling.  It was really an excellent metaphor for the whole thing: the symbol of his maturity, the well-kempt facial hair itself a balance between his wildness and his meticulous self-control, rubbing raw your delicate and untouched skin in such an intimate place.  If you weren’t too busy shaking and crying and seeing stars on this bed, you might have appreciated the beauty in those parallels, but clearly you weren’t capable of thinking about it to that level of depth.

The stream of helpless praises you'd been trying to hold back earlier?  There was absolutely nothing stopping it from spilling forward now.  “You're incredible,” you blurted out, your hand holding tighter to the sheets beneath you.  “Laszlo— my husband— you… you must be the devil, o-or an angel or prophet— or something. You make me feel things, such incredible things, that I didn't even know—”

He opened his mouth wide around you, breaking the seal of his lips so he could speak against your skin.  “I'm just a man,” he promised, “I'm just a husband becoming addicted to his new wife's pleasure, that's all, my dear.”

As he started to do it again so suddenly, you reacted suddenly as well: your hand found his hair and grabbed it, and your mind was too far gone to worry about it being too aggressive.  Not that he gave any signs of annoyance— if anything it was the opposite, as he lapped at you harder in response.  

This, of course made your hips jump up— until his hand slipped out of you, grabbing them and pulling them down, keeping you still as he continued.  The simple show of dominance affected you greatly, another heavy pulse of pleasure hitting you suddenly.

“I-I'm close,” you whispered.  “Laszlo, I'm so close— and it feels so different than before— I swear, nothing's ever felt so— fuck!”

He hummed encouragingly, and your whole body rocked in time with the growing pressure.  His fingers sliding back inside you, seeming to curl even more than before, certainly added to the sensation.

Just as you were teetering on the edge, his teeth grazed impossibly-carefully over you, a sharp and raw sort of pleasure jolting your entire body.  Of course, you couldn't fight against that, and the feeling inside you snapped as yet another flood of pleasure ripped through your body.  Your ears were ringing but you still heard how loud you must have been, how totally wrecked and helpless your moans had become.  

It wasn’t as… aggressive of a feeling as the one that had made you… you know… but it was probably the most powerful in its own way.  The highest, the heaviest, the most whole.  You couldn't hear him moaning against you through all that, but you could feel it: a deep and bassy vibration that only heightened the feeling even more.  Your moans turned to cries and then sobs; it was too much, the feeling was spilling over inside you— you weren't sure how much longer you could take it all before you broke.

It seemed, however, that he broke first; he pulled away and sat up, leaving you both panting, sweaty messes.  

“God, you're so beautiful,” he sighed, grabbing you by the neck to pull you up into a filthy, heated kiss.  You surrendered instantly, grabbing into his shoulders with hands that were still pricked with pins and needles as your high dissipated slowly.  “I can't wait anymore,” he mumbled against your lips, “I need to be inside you.”

“Please,” you gasped softly— you'd been waiting for this all night, at least.  You'd never imagined yourself so eager, so desperate for it, though…

He made quick work untying his robe, leaning over you as he held tightly onto his cock and guided the swollen, leaking head between your lips.  Yes, even with desire coursing through your veins, a touch of anxiety was still present.  You just couldn’t imagine what this was going to be like, you could still hardly believe it was happening to you— and, though it was a bit crass to think, you were a bit surprised by the brief glance of his cock that you’d gotten.  You wouldn’t really know what was big or small or normal or abnormal when it came to that… you had nothing to compare it to.  What you did know was that it seemed much… thicker, than seemed appropriate to go inside you.  Of course you knew that a young woman’s first experience could be painful, you’d heard that bleeding was normal (if not expected, but that seemed a bit barbaric and certainly not what a progressive man like Laszlo was after) — yet, you still weren’t properly scared.  It was just the sort of anticipation that made you shiver and let out a long breath to compose yourself.

He groaned a little as he continued to rub against you, and you noticed the arm that held him up over you was shaking.  You could only imagine how frustrating it must have been to be giving you all that attention and not getting any in return for so long, and you could only hope he might take a little of that frustration out on you…

“Please,” you said again, quieter, as you looked up at him.  Thankfully, that was enough to make him press forward and slide into you all at once.

While his fingers had stretched you in such strange, sometimes overwhelming ways, his cock… it just fit.  It filled you exactly the way you needed— not too wide or too deep… though you suspected it would've been had he not prepared you so incredibly thoroughly.  And while his tongue has made you feel such unimaginable things, though his lips had effortlessly sucked ecstasy from your shaking body, having him inside you felt so simple and natural and easy.  

He hissed in his breaths as he moved— slow at first, but each one just a bit faster than the last.  Every movement stimulated all the places he'd already awoken inside you, and your legs moved on their own to latch around his hips while your head fell back with a satisfied sigh.

“My angel,” he groaned, staring down at you as each of his thrusts rocked you under him.  “I knew I— fuck, darling— I knew I'd have trouble keeping myself together when I was finally inside you.  Yet you're… you're even more perfect than I imagined.”

You smiled proudly, reaching up to hold his shoulders; he seemed encouraged by that, becoming just a bit rougher in his movements until your nails accidentally dug into his skin just a bit.

“I won't be able to last much longer,” he grunted, “but I-I can't stop.  I can't even slow down, I never… I've never lost control like this before.”

A shiver ran up your whole body, even seeming to make you clench inside— and he moaned in return, a beautifully pitiful sound.  

“I'm sorry,” he offered between panting breaths, and you barely mustered the energy to laugh. 

“Beloved, what do you have to apologize for?” you teased through a grin.  “Surely you're not worried that I will be left unsatisfied.”

“I would rather bring you to orgasm again,” he explained, “but I'm so desperate for you, I'm afraid I lack the patience for it.”

“I would rather pleasure my husband, for once,” you replied, “but you couldn't possibly feel what I felt, I don't think I'll ever be able to really return the favor—”

“It's no favor,” he insisted.  “Your pleasure is what I desire.  And a good wife gives her husband what he desires, no?”

You whimpered desperately, pathetically even.  “I'll be good for you, Laszlo,” you promised weakly, “I want to be a good wife to you…”

“You're a very good wife, my dear,” he assured.  “Look how much pleasure you've let me take from you, look how you've soaked our bed with your lovely nectar…”

You weren't sure which part of that aroused you the most… but our bed was a serious contender.

“And you taste absolutely divine,” he added, before kissing you again to let you taste it, too.  It was a sloppy and needy kiss, not precise and careful like basically everything else he'd done to you so far, but you loved it.  You loved any sign that he might be just as desperate as you.

Once again his speed and intensity picked up, until you could hear his skin hitting against yours loudly, and your back arched a bit at how perfectly dirty it felt.  His cock hit a spot deep inside you, and you sucked in a sharp breath.  “Laszlo,” you blurted out, and he groaned as he moved his kiss to your neck.  

“Keep saying my name,” he demanded.  “Tell me who your husband is— who makes you feel this way you've never felt before.”

“Laszlo,” you said again, “I'm yours.  Anything you want from me, it's yours.”

“Yes,” he agreed with a heavy sigh.

“Your wife, always,” you continued, and it made your own heart swell along with encouraging him: he moved faster, rocked deeper into you, and breathed heavy against your ear as your back arched from the erotic perfection of the moment.

“My wife,” he repeated, making you whine and nod and bear down on him with your walls.

“Yes,” you gasped, “yes— yours, I’m yours—”

“I-I can't hold back anymore,” he moaned, “I don't… I don't even know if I can bring myself to pull out before—”

“Don't,” you begged.  “I want it inside, Laszlo.  I want all of you inside me.”

“Oh, darling, mein Schatz, I—” he choked, but he never finished his sentence.  He just moaned louder and louder and fucked you faster and faster— until you were nearly screaming from how hard he hammered into you.

It stopped all at once; he pressed himself as deep inside you as he could, so deep you felt like you were struggling to breathe, and hid his face in the curve of your neck as he came inside you.

And for a long, beautiful moment, you just laid together; you were sort of halfway between awake and asleep, your whole body thrummed with emotions and sensations you never thought you could fit within yourself.  Time passed, surely, but you wouldn’t have known the difference.  His weight on top of you wasn’t too heavy, though it did keep you pressed into the mattress and sheets— not that you were going anywhere anyways.

You only really came back to reality when you felt small kisses trailing your neck; you hummed and squirmed a little beneath him, making you both groan as it stirred where you were connected.  He must have been a bit sore, too, though you felt like you’d been through quite a lot more and had a better excuse.

He moved again, just barely, and you winced as you held onto his back.  “Don’t go,” you whispered, afraid of the pain if he didn’t just stay still inside you.

“I have to, sometime,” he breathed in return.

“But—”

“I know, my love,” he cooed, “I’d stay inside you forever if I could.  But I’ll hurt you more if I don’t give you time to rest.”

Resigning yourself with a sigh, you nodded a little and scrunched up your face as he pulled his hips back.  It did sting, but it faded quickly once he was out— and the feeling was replaced with a warm, wet feeling that you realized must have been his seed leaking out of you.  It made you feel a bit dirty, but wonderful, too.

He laid beside you with a deep breath, his hand coming up to your face and turning it so you would look back at him.  You had to blink a few times to really see clearly, and even still, everything seemed a bit blurry around the edges.  The whole world seemed a bit softer, really.  “I love you, darling wife,” he told you simply, his voice soft but no longer a whisper, and he pet your cheek as he leaned in to kiss the bridge of your nose.

“I love you too, husband,” you cooed in reply.  “You’re so wonderful— a-and you’re nothing like I imagined, sometimes.”

“Perhaps I should have been more careful,” he offered nervously.

“No— that was perfect,” you promised.

“I meant the very end, there,” he clarified, his hand running down over your body and resting on your stomach.  “You might have wanted to wait longer… if you had a child so soon, you might wish we had more time just the two of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he meant.  “Oh, that…” you mumbled, smiling a bit to yourself.

“I fully intended to have my finish elsewhere, to lower the chances— I didn’t think I would become so… impulsive,” he sighed.  “I hoped to still control myself, but I’m afraid I wasn’t quite able to, once I was within you.  But I couldn’t help it, with the way you feel…”

“It’s alright,” you laughed weakly, “it’s not as if I were acting rationally.  I never… I didn’t think I could be so… so—”

A thousand words came to mind.  Unladylike.  Animalistic.  Desperate.  Insatiable.

“I didn’t think I’d ever act like that,” you said instead, voice getting a little softer as you felt a bit shy again.

“I knew you would,” he responded, making you look at him with wide eyes and warming cheeks.

“You— but I— I was always—!”

“Yes, you behaved very well each time I met you” he recalled with a proud smile, “always so sweet and well-mannered.  But I knew you had so much need within you, so much hunger… a being of pure instinct just waiting to take over when the time was right.”

Your heart skipped a beat— you felt a bit… accused by that statement, yet you couldn’t really deny it.  Even if you hadn’t known it before, it was clearly true now.  “How… how could you have sensed that?” you wondered.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you again; you loved the way he looked in that moment.  His expression was familiar, but the total lack of composure— flushed cheeks, sweat on his brow, messed hair— was totally new and quite pleasant.  “If you didn’t have any desire to misbehave, my darling, you wouldn’t have been going out with me.”

#laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler smut

[hereticpriest]

Masterlist

MDNI

Series

Mercy

Rating: Explicit 18+

Relationship: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

To begin with, some warnings about this story: A/B/O Dynamics, Female Alpha, Male Omega, Some chapters may involve messing with the whole 'alphas are always dom and omegas are always sub' because I think nuance exists even in A/B/O dynamics, Fucking with the timeline (this is a blend of Canon, Legends, and original lore), Minimal use of Y/N (Explained in the first chapter), Reader is an alien species of my own creation and thus has a physical description, Familial bonds explored heavily, Clone rights explored heavily, Violence is more graphic than canon-typical however any graphic descriptions will be noted, AFAB reader, Not beta-read so I apologize for any mistakes.

Read on AO3

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Nine Point Five - Part Ten -

Miniseries

The Typist - Laszlo Kreizler and his bitey wife

Bite - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft odaxelagnia

Chew - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft odaxelagnia, prequel to Bite

Swallow - Laszlo Kreizler x reader ft odaxelagnia, prequel to Bite and sequel to Chew

Oneshots

The Bath - Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader ft cockwarming

Pyrrhic - Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader ft 14k of HYDRA being the worst and Helmut Zemo being a consent king

Ctrl and Power - Ernst Schmidt x Reader ft rough sex and secret relationships

Sriracha - Dirk Brûlée x single mom!reader ft sex toys/sybian

Requests and Prompts

Reader likes to come up behind Zemo and kiss or bite him

Roman Sionis fucking reader in his club and being a show off about it (and also he's a total switch)

Roman Sionis making female reader cockwarm him during a gang meeting

Obi-Wan Kenobi noticing female reader's tattoos after sex and pausing to enjoy them

#obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x oc #obi-wan kenobi x original character #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #my writing #requests and prompts #masterlist #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis #black mask x reader #dirk brûlée x reader

[orions-quiver]

Wearing Something of the Danny Bunch's (Part 2)

Wow. It's uh, been awhile. Man I take forever to finish writing things I start but hey, better late content than no content. Here as promised I have another installment of wearing something of our boys'. This time I offer you Andrea, Ernst, Niki, and Laszlo. Enjoy!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Andrea Marowski

• With Andrea you tend to steal his suit jackets when it's chilly, but the first time you did it was pretty adorable.

• The jacket was new. He had just gotten it from Janet and Ursula as a part of one of the suits they had gotten him once Andrea was up and around.

• You had been teaching him English with your limited knowledge of German and had become acquainted rather quickly with one another.

• You had taken him up on the offer to sit by the sea. The wind had picked up while Andrea was down closer to the shore in the sand (looking for seashells, probably).

• You slipped on his discarded suit jacket to find it warm and fuzzy against your skin.

• When Andrea returned with a handful of shells and rocks that caught his eye it took a moment for him to notice that you were wearing his jacket.

• But when he did he stopped in his tracks with a blush.

• He was mesmerized.

• "Du bist so hübsch. (You're so pretty.)" He had said in German rather than his native Polish hoping you could understand the compliment. Andrea couldn't string any coherent English together as he processed you in his jacket.

• "Danke, Andrea."

• His smile was the cutest thing you'd ever seen.

• He then proceeded to show you the many shells he found.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ernst Schmidt

• You love to steal his shirts to sleep in at night.

• At first he had no clue who exactly was stealing his shirts. Maybe Volkov was playing some sort of weird prank on him to piss him off?

• Were his shirts just getting lost in the day-to-day??

• What the fuck was happening to his shirts???

• He kept wondering that until he passed by your room one late night when you didn't have your door fully closed. He peaked in and was instantly not mad about the shirts anymore.

• You were curled up asleep in one of them and Ernst just couldn't be upset about it anymore.

• It was cute and he couldn't complain.

• He did ask why though the next morning.

• "Sometimes I get lonely and I find you to be a comforting presence. Please don't be upset with me Schmidt I'll make sure you get them all back."

• "No need. I can't be angry when you're both comfortable and absolutely adorable in my shirts."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Niki Lauda

• The day he looks over and watches you try on his helmet is the day he decides that you're a person he wants to attempt to hold onto.

• The two of you had been casually seeing each other for awhile. It was nothing serious in the slightest. It was more of a "we work around each other and we seem to get along" kind of arrangement.

• So to say that Niki didn't really pay that much attention was an understatement.

• You were helping to organize some things in the garage after a late night of making improvements to the car while cleaning up when you see it.

• In all of its glossy red F1 Ferrari branded glory was Niki's helmet up on one of the shelves out of the way.

• You were very careful grabbing it from its spot and even more careful handling it.

• Niki had walked back in from collecting something from the track and just stopped to observe where this was going. From the looks of it to him it just seemed like you were simply looking at the helmet.

• That was until you slipped it on and smiled big and bright as you stared at yourself in the reflection of the metal table.

• Niki couldn't help it and chuckled. It was a bit big on you but fuck were you the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

• "I see you found my helmet."

• "I'm sorry Niki I was just looking-"

• He grinned. "No. You look like a proper racing driver now."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Laszlo Kreisler

• His black suit jacket was fair game when he left it unattended.

• You were in his office with Sarah and John looking over the details in a scientific journal for the case when Laszlo stepped out with Stevie without his jacket.

• With a smile you scurried over to retrieve it and wrap yourself in it before he returned.

• John chuckled. "Cold?" He joked with a playful jab to your rib.

• Sarah gave a small, all-knowing smile in your direction.

• You shrugged. "A little. I just like his jacket and how warm it is."

• His jacket was a bit big on you. It was cozy and the material felt soft against your skin. Most importantly to you it smelled like him, like crazy expensive specially imported Austrian cologne that he used exclusively. It was so characteristically Laszlo that it made you smile more.

• Laszlo looked confused when his desk lacked the jacket. He scanned the room to spot it snuggly against your form and without a second thought started to walk to the other side of the room.

• "Ah, I'll shut the windows then. It is rather drafty with the wind coming in."

• He smiled to himself where no one could see. Although he'd never truly admit it, he loved seeing you in his suit jackets.

#daniel bruhl #the danny bunch #andrea marowski #ladies in lavender #niki lauda #rush #ernst schmidt #the cloverfield paradox #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #daniel bruhl x reader #andrea marowski x reader #ernst schmidt x reader #niki lauda x reader #laszlo kreizler x reader #boyfriend scenario

[multifandomfix]

Laszlo Kreizler Smut Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Lovingly whispered words and gentle caresses can almost always be expected from him after sex. He wants to be sure you’re treated like royalty.

B = Body part (favorite body part of their partner’s)

Your waistline/curves. Having his hands explore your midsection like he’s trying to memorize a map is just an exquisite experience for him.

C = Collar (do they mark you as theirs in some way?)

He will leave the occasional mark, sure, but nothing overtly obscene. Only something he can look at later to remind him of how you’re his.

D = Dominant (who is in control? are they a top or bottom?)

He tends to be more of a top, and leans also more towards the dominant side, but should you wish to take control, he’s usually agreeable to it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He has a bit of experience under his belt (pun slightly intended). He prides himself on learning from his partners and he’s an excellent student.

F = Fuck (do they prefer to fuck or make love?)

Laszlo falls right about in the middle. It’s almost entirely dependent on the amount of stress he needs relieved and if you’re feeling the same way as him or not. He always wants it to be pleasurable for you both.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s serious. Almost entirely so. He’s not the type to laugh when something unexpected happens. But on occasion you’re able to get him to lighten up.

H = Hot (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you see him looking at you as you absentmindedly touch your neck, you know you’ve got his attention. Showing a bit of extra skin, or slow, drawn out movements will have him squirming in his chair.

I = Insatiable (how do they act when they’re desperate to have you?)

He may tend to get overly romantic/poetic. He likes to lure you to bed with his words, make himself and what he can do to you sound absolutely irresistible.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s not overly inclined to tend to his own needs, as usually there are numerous other things occupying his mind. But if you’re away, and he’s caught up in thinking of you, then he certainly will indulge in the urge.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

After trying it out, Laszlo actually finds himself a bit into wax play. He loves to drip it on your skin and watch it travel across your body. And should you wish to use it on him, he’s alright with that too.

L = Location (favorite places to have sex)

Anywhere in the house, really. But only by windows if the curtains are drawn. He may like to have you in any room of the house, but the neighbors needn’t know that.

M = Mood (what’s the foreplay like? how do you get them in the mood?)

Heavy making out beforehand. You’re falling on the bed while still kissing him, half unclothed, then letting him undress you fully.

N = Naked (how do they undress? do they like to watch you undress?)

Laszlo is efficient at undressing. He makes quick enough work of it while also managing to turn you on even more just by watching him. He’s also got the same skill of undressing you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He doesn’t have much of a preference either way. Either is truly fine with him, but not his favorite bedroom activity by any means.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can get fast and rough, but he’s typically pretty restrained unless you’ve given him permission to be rougher.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He really won’t mind them every now and again if he simply can’t wait, but he doesn’t favor them as a rule.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He does experiment a bit. He treats new kinks and positions as an opportunity to learn and grow.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Depending on the intensity, he can go up to three rounds on average.

T = Tryst (are they into casual sex or one night stands?)

No. Very much not. He thinks it unclean and he has an innate distrust for such encounters.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A little light teasing is certainly to be expected with Laszlo, but he won’t draw it out too long.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Laszlo is pretty quiet. He’s not a moaner or a screamer. The most noise he generally makes is whispering dirty things in your ear.

W = Wait (how long do they wait before having sex with their partner for the first time?)

A suitable amount of time. He’s good at reading people, so he’ll really only approach the subject when you’ve given him some indicators that fairly certainly let him know you’re ready to take that step.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s surprisingly fit. For a man so devoted to academic study, he has the body of an athlete. Wonderful strength in his muscle tone with a certain softness to him still.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Moderate. Maybe just a tiny bit less than the average man.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a bit to drift off. It’s definitely not immediate for him. He likes to live in the moment of it for as long as he can.

For 🐻 Anon

Forever Tag: @borg-queer, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @icetown587, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart

#laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler smut alphabet #laszlo kreizler x reader #the alienist #request

[profeyandere]

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐙𝐋𝐎 𝐊. ─── ☾ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃

Masterlist || Daniel Brühl Masterlist || Wattpad

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader

Warning: Angst, panic attack, murders

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D

That little building in New York no longer felt like the warm, sweet home he loved so much. Now, everything around him had been covered in a dark thick icy mist that had appeared once he had made sure that you were gone. He didn't expect to be able to blame you for it, either.

Laszlo, no matter how hard he tried to search his innermost thoughts, could not remember having felt such sharp and persistent pain in his life until he finally found the courage to return home and face the situation in which he had found himself. He had become immersed because he was unable to keep his mouth shut and the comments at bay, finding that tragic December night a home that was no longer what he had left that same morning. In the depths of his heart he hoped to see you in the living room, sitting in his armchair or on the soft sofa that characterized the room, with one of his many blankets in your lap while you tried to calm your usual nerves about meeting him again or doing one of the many activities you planned for the afternoons, perhaps reading one of the various astronomy books in which you had shown special interest in recent months with a cup of chamomile to soothe your headaches or trying to finish knitting the dark wool gloves for him with the excuse that even if you didn't like that activity, you wanted him to stay warm enough during the harsh winter that was lashing New York while investigating the latest case he had been involved in, even if he knew that your disgust for the last mentioned activity was a little lie that you had developed over the years and that he had discovered by having seen you smile on more than one occasion while you practiced with Mary a new type of stitch; you always showed a particular distaste for activities that were characteristic of women, but he had learned to observe that you were actually quite content with them and that you could come to appreciate them even if you claimed otherwise.

But now that he had returned home, he felt an emptiness in him, not hearing your playful laugh resonate because of some joke that Stevie had told you, nor could he distinguish your quick and agile steps becoming louder and closer that indicated that you had heard him home, much less was he able to feel the warmth that enveloped his home when you were in it. He noticed the lack of your presence, and it was not necessary to be very intelligent or have a university degree to make sure of it because he only had to analyze himself to realize it; Anguish had been the feeling that had taken over his body, then eliminating the anger that had been controlling him for much of the day.

Laszlo hadn't wanted you to get involved in the case of the missing children, the same ones that days later turned up murdered wherever the maniac who ended their lives wanted to show them. He assumed from the beginning that the scenarios in which he would be involved would be dangerous, after all, they were looking for a murderer, and he knew that the places they would visit would be quite unpleasant judging by what John Moore, his dear friend, had previously described. He just wanted to keep you safe, in the comfort of his home, while he and the small team he had assembled took it upon themselves to put an end to the wave of murders that was causing so much fear in the inhabitants of the splendid American city.

All he did was try to keep you away from the monsters beyond the gates of his home, but he didn't make sure that the most horrible being you had at your side. You had him, and he wasn't able to protect you then.

Tension, nerves, and anxiety had taken over his body, being felt that he was unable to control for not finding a solution to the case on which he was working so hard. He felt devastated for not finding a solution to such a problem, being forced to constantly search and review the same psychology books that he had read so many times and that, on this occasion, were not providing him with the required help. Barely a few days had passed since the death of the first young people belonging to rather unfortunate families was announced, but the desire to end it became more palpable as the hours passed; The only thing the doctor wanted was to end the case with a happy ending, return home as he usually did and hug you, thus eliminating the intrusive thoughts that crowded his mind and that prevented him on many occasions from resting as it should. You, being aware of the latter, had decided to visit Laszlo at his usual place of work to check his state of health.

He would have appreciated your visit on other occasions, he would have felt a familiar tingle once he had seen you open the door of his office to greet him with your loving smile, and he would have watched your bright eyes that would light up more and more as the seconds passed, and you watched him, but at that moment all he saw in you was a distraction he didn't want to deal with; he didn't want to be with you at that moment, and he wanted you to leave as soon as possible. You greeted him excitedly, asking about his day, and soon after you started talking about how worried you were that he was so deep in the case that he wasn't even taking care of himself, which you assumed all along and which is why you asked John and Sarah to take care of him while you weren't around; Although your innocence, concern, and dedication to the doctor could be seen as a blessing in most cases, he just wanted you to shut up at that moment, turn around and go home, he just wanted you to understand what his cold look wanted to tell you, but it was not like that.

You didn't understand him, or you didn't want to, and Laszlo took it out on you.

You saw his shoulders tense as you approached him and his desk, this time lowering your tone of voice as you presumed that a new wave of emotional headaches was at work again in his head. You sighed softly and walked around his desk, positioning yourself on one side of him with the intention of easing that pain by massaging his temples. It was when you finally placed one of your delicate hands on top of his, gently stroking the knuckles of his left hand to calm him down and show your support, that you finally saw how the beast he seemed to have kept hidden finally came out to unleash its full wrath on you. He quickly withdrew his hand from yours, surprising you with the movement and causing you to take a step back to give him some space, then raised your head to meet his gaze with yours, his being the one that flashed with feelings of anger and rage that ran through his body and that was impossible to control. He raised his voice at you in a way you didn't expect, ordering you to get out of his office, leaving you completely shocked by what had just happened and by what you had heard. You tried to refute what he had just told you, asking and begging him to let you stay and letting him know that you wouldn't speak anymore if he required it, but then he started to hurt you with the words that you would have least imagined. You had always had certain limitations in learning, you always recognized that obvious fact, and many times you doubted that your intelligence was the same as that of an average person your age, you had even felt bad enough on several occasions to question yourself if it was enough for Laszlo for that small impairment, but it was his words of encouragement, full of affection and always sincere that made those intrusive thoughts disappear, but now he brought out that insecurity to make you see that perhaps your assumptions were correct; He pointed out how stupid you looked around him and how you tried to keep people from seeing that big flaw of yours through the kindness you showed, trying to make witty comments but only making others laugh at how silly you seemed and that The fact that people were so sweet to you was because they found you as silly as a 3-year-old.

In short: Laszlo confirmed your biggest fear.

From the moment the doctor began to bring up that insecurity, placing special emphasis on what others thought of you, you felt how you stopped hearing from one moment to the next. You could perfectly see your fiancé open and close his mouth, and move his hands to express himself more freely, but it was impossible for you to understand what he was saying due to the feeling of sadness and anxiety that had begun to devastate you. You had heard of anxiety attacks, Laszlo had explained them to you after you had had to calm down one of the many children at school who had sought refuge in you the first time he attended the doctor's therapy, and, now if you were suffering it in the same way that young man suffered then, he made you understand that Laszlo was no longer a safe place for you; he was the one who was causing that to you, and you didn't want that to happen again, you refused.

When Laszlo watched you leave with teary eyes, your chest rising and falling at an alarming rate, and your hands slightly trembling, he knew he hadn't been able to protect you the way he wanted. He had failed you.

Now that he was home, remembering those agonizing minutes you'd suffered, he couldn't help but grit his teeth at the rage he felt at himself, letting out a snort to calm the anxiety that had begun to take over him. With his heart in a fist, he began to walk slowly towards the living room while he prayed that you were waiting for him there, just as he had previously imagined when he had entered his house, but it was not like that. Stopping on the threshold that separated the living room from the hall, he made sure that the vibrant colors that were always in that room were just a product of his imagination because now that you weren't there; everything had taken on grayer and sadder colors, only having a small flash of crimson in the small ring that was on the coffee table in front of the sofa that you always occupied to talk about your busy mornings and afternoons, both of you using that precise moment to appreciate to the other in the way you longed for, but now you weren't there, just the reminder that you were once there.

Laszlo realized that he had lost you forever and there would be no way to get you back.

The house felt cold again and as lonely as it had before I met you.

#laszlo kreizler #laszlo #kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x oc #reader #you #oc #daniel brühl #laszlo kreizler imagine #daniel brühl imagine #the alienist

[bruhlrunning]

psst, i rediscovered my love for daniel bruhl, is this fandom still alive?

Guess I should add: does anyone know where to watch Ich und Kaminski (Me and Kaminski)? I’m going crazy trying to find it 😅

#daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl #laszlo kreizler x reader #niki lauda x reader #andrea marowski x reader #alex kerner x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #requests open

[vervainariadne]

They say you become someone whom your younger self would feel safe and accepted.

Karen is a lot like Laszlo, and I guess Laszlo's inner child felt safe around her.

It was so comforting for me to watch them. Felt professional and mentally engaging but at the same time it felt like home and natural for me.

#daniel bruhl #laszlo kreizler #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl x reader #the alienist #laszlo kreizler x reader #karen stratton #lara pulver #laszlo x karen #dr laszlo kreizler

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

A Sensual Education - Laszlo Kreizler

I learned a lot about clits for this fic, didn't realize how much people (mostly men) hated them. Everyone, go touch your clits, treasure them, they deserve it after people like Freud wanted to get rid of them cause they were too insecure of themselves and scared of women🙃

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), typical 19th century ideology, misogyny, religious guilt, pining, innocence kink, fingering, virginity loss, soft dom!Laszlo, consent is sexy, flufffff

3.4K Words🤙🏻

~~~~~~~~~~

From an early age, you were always taught that anything do to with sex was a sin. You weren’t really told why but it was an unspoken moral rule. 

Women weren’t allowed to have sex until after marriage and if the man wants it. Women were for men’s pleasure and to make babies; that was it. From an early age, you were always doubtful of this but you were always too scared to make your concerns known.

You had asked your mother about it after you started your courses, but you were immediately shut down and scolded for even thinking such a thing. So every time you had a question or concern, you always had to push it down and you never spoke about it.

Once, you had heard, in the middle of the night, your mother with your father in their bedroom, it sounded like they were both in pain. You peaked inside their room and what you saw shocked you to your core. It was not in fact your mother, but it was your father with another woman. It looked painful. Why would someone engage in such acts if it was painful? It didn’t make sense.

From an early age, you were already seeing contradictions from everyone and you didn’t know what to believe.

One night, you tried touching yourself, just out of curiosity. It felt…different, but good. Though you were too scared and embarrassed to continue. Surely, you were going to hell for what you did. You prayed for forgiveness, and you never touched yourself again.

You knew it would probably bring shame upon you and your family, but you had always wanted to pursue a career in psychology. The mind was fascinating, and you had always wanted to figure out what causes people to do what they do; why they lie, why they hurt others, why they are so insistent on following old rules. Doctor Laszlo Kreizler had been looking for someone to intern for him. Despite being a woman, the doctor seemed happy to welcome you to his team.

It was very early on when you started to see Doctor Kreizler in a different light, one that you had not seen anyone before. He was very handsome, even your mother had confessed that to you privately. But it felt different this time. You had crushes before, but you never thought to act on them. You just figured that your parents would find you a man to marry and that would be that, but thankfully they weren’t that old fashioned. You were allowed to choose someone for yourself if you wanted, and you found that Laszlo was someone you wanted very badly. Just one small problem: he was your boss and you had no idea if he’d ever feel the same way.

You’d feel embarrassed every time you interacted with him, which was a lot. You would have to really concentrate whenever he was teaching you what to do with certain patients, and you managed well enough. Sometimes you’d sit in on one of his counseling sessions to see what he does and how he goes about it, but his voice was so mesmerizing that you’d forget exactly what he had been saying. It was debilitating, your crush, always feeling such yearning whenever he caught your gaze; but you had to move on. It definitely would not be professional if you acted on your sinful feelings to him. 

Your lust got even worse when Laszlo started to get more touchy feely with you. He wasn’t inappropriate of course, just lingering touches here and there whenever you did a good job with the patients; but that was more than enough for your fantasies to run wild with false hope that he might’ve liked you back. He even insisted you call him by his first name, before you always addressed him as Doctor Kreizler. He unknowingly was only fanning the flames of your infatuation.

Your crush just kept growing stronger and stronger.

Finally, one day, one of the doctor’s other employee’s told you that he needed to see you in his office later that day. You were instantly worried, thinking you may have done a bad job or worse, he had found out about your crush on him. But the employee said you had nothing to worry about, telling you that you were the fastest learner they had ever seen. It lessened your nerves…only slightly. You’d just have to find out for yourself.

You decided to go to his office early, otherwise you’d be worrying yourself to death and you didn’t care much for that. But when you arrived, the doctor wasn’t there. Serves you right for being impatient, you supposed.

You waited in Doctor Kreizler’s office, twiddling your thumbs and failing to calm your nerves. So instead, you decided to look around, despite knowing you shouldn’t, but you didn’t know what else to do. 

Scanning his bookshelves absentmindedly, you came across a particularly eye-catching name. Kama Sutra? You let out an audible gasp as you saw the cover on the front of the book. It was a man and a woman being…intimate with each other. You tried not to judge, but what kind of deviant would keep a book like this? Despite your initial horror, you couldn’t help but skim through the pages, feeling yourself growing uncomfortably hot at the words and illustrations. There were words on those pages that you didn’t even have a clue what they meant, but they felt dirty regardless.

You were so enraptured by all this new information that you didn’t notice Doctor Kreizler walk in. You all but jumped out of your skin as you heard him clear his throat, looking at you expectantly. “Oh, Lord, I am so sorry, Doctor. I was just waiting for you to get back but this caught my eye, I didn’t mean to pry, I promise.” You rambled with a slight stutter, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest when Laszlo took the book from you with a ghost of a smile. “Please, sir, don’t tell anyone I was looking at this, if my parents found out, they’d throw me on the streets! I’ll pray for forgiveness!”

Laszlo gently shook his head, patting your shoulder reassuringly. “It’s quite alright, it’ll stay between us. Please, you don’t have to put on the pious act for me.”

You furrowed your brow, tilting your head slightly in confusion. “An act, sir? What do you mean?”

“The whole pretending that you think every single thing pertaining to sex is sinful and immoral.” He said with a brittle chuckle.

“It…it’s not?”

Laszlo froze, his eyes scanning your face for any indication that you were playing up the innocent act, but he didn’t find anything about your expression that would lead him to believe that you were lying. Were you actually this innocent? “You’ve never been taught about sex before? Anything about it?”

Your cheeks felt like they had been lit aflame, you looked down, your hair hiding your face slightly. “It’s a sin, especially before marriage. The only reason to do it is if you want to have a child.” You recited from what you learned from your parents and pastor.

“God, is that what your parents taught you? Hypocrites. It’s ridiculous. Of course sex isn’t sinful.”

“But…what about touching oneself? Surely that’s a sin, right?”

“It’s a natural part of growing up. Everyone has done it, there’s nothing to be ashamed about.” Laszlo noticed your nervousness, the fiddling with your hands and your eyes anywhere but his. “Have you never touched yourself before? Never even tried?”

You bit your lip, rubbing your hand up your arm as you felt goosebumps start to rise. “Once, but it didn’t feel right…at all. I never tried again. I never should have done it in the first place.” You felt ashamed talking about this with someone as professional as Laszlo. He must’ve been so ashamed of you as well, you wished you never even set foot in his office. But what you didn’t know was Laszlo was feeling ashamed of himself for how lustful he felt all of a sudden. The thought that you had never experienced sexual pleasure made his pants feel way too tight in that moment, and he felt sorry for you, but not in a condescending way. It would be a risk for your professional relationship, but it was one he was willing to take.

You didn’t notice Laszlo walking closer to you until you felt his hand gently graze your hand that was nervously holding your other arm. You felt your heart skip a beat as you finally looked up at him, finding his eyes to be searching yours. His tantalizing stare felt like it was penetrating your soul, him being so close to you that you could see your own startled expression in his dilated pupils. “Do you want me to show you how it’s done?” Laszlo asked in a low tone, his voice almost gravelly, causing a shiver to run down your spine in anticipation.

You didn’t know why, but you suddenly felt a burning hot desire in your lower stomach, a slick wetness pooling at the apex of your thighs. Your expression reflected in his eyes turned from being startled to almost dazed. Out of anything he could’ve said, Laszlo surprised you with that. You wanted to say yes, so badly. But… “What will happen to me if I say yes?” You asked timidly, glancing down at his hand on yours.

“Nothing that you don’t consent to.” He smiled softly, but with your fearful expression, he realized what you actually were asking. “I promise, you’re not going to hell if you allow me to do this.”

You exhaled shakily. “Okay.”

Laszlo smiled, running his hand up to your shoulder and moving a piece of hair out of your face. “Sit on my desk and lift up your skirts for me please.” He instructed, and you obeyed nervously, feeling your whole body heat up as he watched intently as you exposed most of your legs to him. “Good girl.” You try not to squirm as Laszlo stood right next to you, feeling his breath on your neck as he lightly held you in place with his right arm and using his left hand to gently trail up your inner thigh, eliciting another shiver from you. “If I do anything that you don’t like or want to stop for any reason, just tell me and I’ll stop. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

You took a deep breath as Laszlo finally reached your aching cunt, exhaling sharply when his fingers made contact with your sex. “Spread your legs for me, my dear.” You gasped as he touched a spot that was particularly sensitive. “Is that painful?” He asked, but you quickly shook your head no. “This spot is called the clitoris, it’s the only human organ where its sole purpose is to provide pleasure. Isn’t that extraordinary?” He spoke huskily into your ear, causing goosebumps to rise all over your body, all while you were still struggling to keep still as he kept slowly rubbing circles on your clit. You wanted him to go faster, but all you could do was whimper pitifully as Laszlo started to kiss and nip at your neck. “How does that feel, Schatz?”

“G-Good…” You whimpered, “so good but…”

“What is it?”

“Can you…move a bit faster, please?” Laszlo smirked at your stuttering voice, finding your shyness adorable. Instead of giving you what you craved, he did the opposite, removing his hand from you and moving to stand in between your legs, spreading your legs even further. “What are you-? Oh!” You gasped as Laszlo slowly pushed one of his fingers inside you, the intrusion foreign but not entirely unwelcome…

“And how does this feel? Still good?” He asked, adding a second finger and gently thrusting into you, the stretch causing you to wince slightly but you didn’t want him to stop. You let out your first moan as he rubbed your clit with his thumb in tandem with his thrusts. “I assume that was a yes, hm?”

“Y-Yeah…” You moaned, your hips moving against his hand mindlessly, starting to feel pleasure building and building inside you. “Feels so good, Laszlo…” 

Laszlo lifted your chin with his other hand, forcing you to make eye contact with him. He wanted to see your face. He finally kissed you as he sped up his hand movements, swallowing your loud moans, a deep guttural groan escaping him as he felt your walls clench around his fingers. “You feel that pressure building in your body?” You nodded quickly, panting and moaning but you still tried to pay attention to what he was saying. “You’re getting close to what’s called an orgasm. It’s a feeling of euphoria when you reach the peak of sexual pleasure.”

“Are…are you getting close?” You stuttered.

Laszlo smiled, hiding a wince when his cock jumped in his pants. “I’m not the one getting pleasured, you are.” And as if right on cue, you felt yourself reach that peak and it was indescribable. Your body burned all over, but in a good way. You moaned loudly as you rode out that wave, gripping onto the doctor’s waistcoat for purchase. Your corset felt almost painful as your nipples hardened as you came, it felt all too restrictive. But you came down from that high, and you already wanted to feel it again. “Are you okay?” Laszlo’s soft deep voice brought you back to reality.

“Can…can you make me do that again?” You asked shyly, causing Laszlo to chuckle.

You winced as Laszlo lightly tapped your clit, the feeling almost too much to handle. “You’re too sensitive. Some people can’t come again right after because of the oversensitivity. But you might be ready to go again after several minutes.”

“But I want you to feel good too. I want you to…come.” You spoke timidly, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. He almost melted on the spot.

Laszlo frowned, shaking his head, trying to ignore his aching cock that was just crying out for stimulation. “I don’t want to hurt you. It might be too much, especially right now.”

“But I want you, Laszlo. I really do.” Laszlo didn’t say anything as you reached for the buttons on his pants, feeling guilty as he let you nervously palm his member through his trousers. “Please, I want you to be my first…”

Laszlo exhaled a shaky breath, grabbing your face and kissing you lightly with a frustrated growl. “First times for women can be painful…”

“I don’t care. I want you to show me what it’s like.” You begged, gently biting his bottom lip, doing everything in your power to let him know that you’d be okay.

Laszlo finally gave in, kissing you again with much more fervor, allowing himself to crave your touch. Your hands were all over him, messing up his perfectly styled hair and undoing the buttons of his waistcoat so you could feel more of him. You moaned as he squeezed your breasts through your dress, running his hands up and down your torso as you pulled his cock out of the confines of his pants. But he suddenly stopped, taking your hand away before speaking. “We’re going to take this slow, okay? If I hurt you, tell me and I’ll stop, okay?” He said seriously.

“Okay.”

Laszlo slowly rubbed the head of his cock in between your folds, you letting out small whines as he rubbed himself on your still overly sensitive clit. He looked into your eyes when he lined himself up with your entrance, silently asking for your approval. You nodded, holding onto his hand that was gripping your thigh.

His cock was much bigger than his fingers, that’s for sure. You let out a silent cry when he entered you, just his tip stretching you far more than his fingers. It was a burning pressure, but you still didn’t want him to stop. Despite the initial pain, it felt so natural for him to be inside you. You accepted him as best you could, him stilling inside you when he bottomed out. “Are you okay?” He asked, already panting from holding himself back.

“Yes, Laszlo, please. Keep going.” You and Laszlo both let out deep guttural groans as he started to thrust into you slowly, him keeping a firm grip on your thigh as he rocked his hips back and forth. Soon, you started to feel a new type of pleasure. It didn’t feel the same as when he was rubbing your clit, but whatever it was, it felt amazing. Every time Laszlo thrusted, the tip of his cock would hit that spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull. His slow thrusts weren’t enough now. You wanted more. You needed more. “Faster…please.” You whined, moving your own hips up to meet his.

“You sure?” It was sweet that he was always checking in, you appreciated it, but sweet wasn’t what you needed at that moment. You nodded vigorously, grabbing the collar of his shirt roughly and bringing him down to kiss you.

“Oh, my God-!” You gasped, moaning in his ear as he sped up his thrusts, his skin slapping against yours echoing around his office. “You feel so good.” You smiled tremulously, tears of overwhelming pleasure brimming your eyes. Laszlo’s grunting and soft moaning had to have been the prettiest sound you had ever heard, each others’ moans mixing together like a symphony. 

“You’re exquisite, my dear.” Laszlo breathed out, moaning every time he felt you clench around him, your velvety walls taking him in deep and holding on with a vice grip. “You’re doing so well…fuck.” He cursed, his cock twitching as he sped up even more, chasing his own release desperately, your pretty moans spurring him on. “I’m so close.” He voiced, his words coming out strangled, his hand tightening around yours, bringing it up and placing a light kiss on your knuckles.

“Do it, come. Please, come.” You whimpered, crossing your legs behind his back, not allowing him to remove himself from you, pulling him as close as possible. His heavy breaths and soft moans fanned across your skin as he neared his climax, placing sloppy kisses on your cheek and down your neck, his neatly trimmed beard scratching at your skin. You cried out as Laszlo started to rub your clit once more, desperate to feel you come around his cock. “Please, please…” You whined, not even sure what you were asking for. His circular motions on your clit paired with his cock roughly splitting you open over and over again was almost too much, but you fully relinquished yourself to him, happy to be used by someone you admired so much.

“Come for me again, Schatz. I want to feel you, please.” Laszlo moaned, speeding up his ministrations on your clit.

“Laszlo!” You squealed, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you reached that peak once more, falling limp in his arms as you rode out your second orgasm.

“Oh, Scheiße!” Laszlo stilled as you clenched around him, letting out a loud strained grunt as he finally released inside of you, coating your walls with his cum. He buried his head in your shoulder, panting heavily along with you, trying to steady his heartbeat. “Are…are you okay?” He asked nervously as he pulled out of you and stuffed himself back into his trousers, looking into your eyes with concern. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, no. You didn’t.” You shook your head, wearing a tired satisfied smile. “I really liked it.”

Laszlo let out a relieved sigh. “Good.” He said, wearing a lopsided grin, placing a short light kiss on the tip of your nose. He chuckled breathlessly, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting the day to turn out like this…but I’m glad it did.”

“Me too.” You smiled timidly, but then you remembered something. “So, um, why did you want to see me in the first place?” You asked.

Laszlo chuckled nervously, gently caressing your cheek while a slight blush. “Oh, I was, uh.” He cleared his throat, “With how well you’re doing, I was going to ask you to work for the Institute officially. Paid and everything. But now…I want to take you out on a date too, if you’d allow me.”

“Really?” You beamed.

“Really.”

“I’d love that. Both. Both of those things. To work here and go on a date with you.” You rambled with a giggle, making Laszlo smile.

“Great…I suppose we should get back to work now.” He said reluctantly, holding onto your hips like he never wanted to let you go.

“I promise, I won’t let you regret hiring me.”

“I don’t think you could make me regret anything, my dear.”

~~~~~~~~~~

back on my bullshit (aka, i'm obsessed with Daniel again). nobody talk to me.

#the alienist #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x fem!reader #laszlo kreizler smut #daniel brühl

[ebiemidnightlibrarian]

𝔇𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔩 𝔅𝔯𝔲̈𝔥𝔩

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐙𝐞𝐦𝐨

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝑺𝒐 𝑳𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝑫𝒊𝒆 | 𝑻𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒍𝒕𝒔!𝑨𝑼 | 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒁𝒆𝒎𝒐 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑶𝒏 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

After you helped Val and Yelena take the Baron out of the Raft, all go to a bunker, where you'll stay hid, until the day of your mission.

𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍 | 𝑻𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑾𝑺 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝑨𝑼 | 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒁𝒆𝒎𝒐 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑰𝒕 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓 | 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒁𝒆𝒎𝒐 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒆 | 𝑯𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍!𝒁𝒆𝒎𝒐 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕-𝒇𝒊𝒄]

𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐳𝐥𝐨 𝐊𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐥𝐞𝐫

𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 | 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌!𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒛𝒍𝒐 𝑲𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒛𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑶𝒇 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 | 𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒛𝒍𝒐 𝑲𝒓𝒆𝒊𝒛𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓— 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝐄𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐭

𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝑰𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑬𝒚𝒆 | 𝑬𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑺𝒄𝒉𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒕 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑫𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒎 | 𝑬𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑺𝒄𝒉𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒕 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

Ernest survived the dark events in the Cloverfield station, and when he and Ava got home, both of them were different. One night he just can't sleep, the traumatizing images in his dreams. Everything was too much to him, after all, he was only a physicist, he's not supposed to deal with that kind of insanity. The anger fills his veins when the painful memories of Kiel and Tam blow in his mind. He's crying angrily when finally notices you on his side. A comforting hand on his shoulder.

𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐙𝐨̈𝐥𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐫

𝑨 𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝑶𝒇 𝑨 𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝑭𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍 | 𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝒁𝒐̈𝒍𝒍𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝔒ℭ'𝔰

𝑳𝒆𝒏𝒛. 𝑴. 𝑯𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒏

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔 | 𝑳𝒆𝒏𝒛 𝑯𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒏 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓/𝑴𝒂𝒍𝒆!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑶𝒏 𝑮𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 [𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕-𝒇𝒊𝒄] [𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉]

Lenz was a handsome, dangerous man, drowned in his own dirty little secrets and his own thirsty issues. One glorious night gave birth to what would become the Devil himself. This is an anthology. Same character, different situations, different times. In Greek mythology, Thanatos was the personification of death. He was a minor figure in Greek mythology, often referred to but rarely appearing in person. (Wikipedia)

𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫

Inspired by the OC Patrick Klein, created by @creme-bruhlee

𝑨𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝑪𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑰𝒏 | 𝑯𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝑯𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑾𝒂𝒓 𝑵𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆!𝑴𝒂𝒊𝒅!𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕-𝒇𝒊𝒄]

𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨

Inspired by the OC Father González/Domingo, created by @creme-bruhlee

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓, 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕳𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖚𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕾𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘

[𝕰𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙] [𝕻𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖊 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙]

𝑰𝒏 𝑵𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒎 | 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

[𝑬𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉] [𝑷𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒆]

Mateo is a man of faith, a good pastor and a just presbytery. However, even on its pure surface, the good father concealed his impure thoughts towards the young novice who always attended his masses. On a particularly revealing night, the priest comes across the entity his repressed desires have invoked. Shall he surrender to the unholy tongue of a demon?

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨𝔰

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

@stardustandgunpowder

#helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo x ofc #baron zemo x ofc #ebie's writing #ebie's masterlist #brühl masterlist #ernest schmidt x reader #sebastian zollner x reader #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x ofc #baron zemo x reader

[mrsmaxwelllord]

INFATURATION - The Reunion

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader

Summary: After years of solitude, protected by the wall of a house you were forced to call your own, you open the doors to welcome your stepdaughter. Only to see her bring in the man who cause all your misfortune.

A/N: There isn't any warnings bc this chapter only introduces the plot and briefly narrates the reunion of Laszlo and his former lover.

But this is a Persuasion-inspired fic — meaning it is a second-change romance.

I think this is all, for now.

Enjoy!

.

 It is unthinkable.

 The grimace on your face was caught by your company when the stranger’s silhouette took shape. But that was no stranger at all, you could tell, even in the distance when his face was yet to be revealed.

 The brown hair, the bright eyes, the cane... 

 This must be a dream, a terrible nightmare — was your first thought when you recognized the figure.

 You gasped for air, tightening your hold on Edwinas arm. You could hear her calling your name, but it was as low as a whisper. Barely there, mixed with the loud waves.

 The silhouette doubled, forming a second figure, one that you couldn’t quite place. It was of no consequence, you were transfixed by the approaching man.

 Step by ungainly step on the sand he shortened the space between the two of you. In no time his features became visible, demanding attention. The bright brown eyes above anything else, but the matching hair still had its charm even now, curling behind his ears.

 When his eyes finally meet yours it is in wonder, but it feels like being punched in the stomach. Hard and painful.  There was a knot in your throat and you couldn't breathe properly. 

 His lips opened to whisper your name.

 It was only with a scream you broke out of the devil’s spell.

 Daniel, the reason for your oh so tard visit to the beach, was the one to scream and so snape you back to reality. Demanding your attention to the funny shell he found by the Ocean.

 You turn around to face him, baffled still.

 “Ma’am, are you well?” questioned the governess at the same time Danny screamed “Mama” at the top of his lungs. Your ears were buzzing and, truth be told, you were definitely not in full control of your mental abilities yet.

 You did not know to whom you should answer first, the maid or the bubbling infant,  but the dripping clothes of the child way too close to the Ocean's waves gave you the directions you needed.

 “That is enough, young man” you said, calling your son closer to you. 

 “Yes, mister,” Edwina agreed upon seeing the deed. “That isn’t proper behaviour.”

 He laughs and doesn't shake at your objection, but runs to you and shows the shell holding out his tiny hands.

“M’Sorry” he murmurs “I wanted you to see this. It’s a present, you see?”

You take the shell and thanks for the gift, another addition to your collection.

“Ma’am, how are you feeling?” 

You face Edwina, still much aware of the strangers, and force a smile.

“I’m much better. Thank you.”

“You looked so sick just now,” she says.

“No need to worry about it, Edwina.” You look at the couple from the corner of your eye, noticing that they have their arms lined.

She hums and Danny rounds circles around you.

“Oh, what a delightful surprise” Professor Stratton greets you.

 You turn around abruptly.

 In your terror, you did not recognize the figure beside Doctor Laszlo Kreizler, but now you could tell who it was. Miss Stratton was correct, what a surprise! — you just couldn’t agree with the delightfulness. Miss Stratton was to arrive the very first thing tomorrow morning, but you guessed the ship did not care for men's assumptions.

 “Karen” you smile, “you arrived early!”

  Her smile was just as bright and contagious as you remember it, and she looked very satisfied. Karen took your hands between hers gently, squeezing it, and, when Daniel very carefully not to be heard whispered a question to Edwina, she gasped.

 “Oh, that can’t be!” she turned to him, then asked. “Is this the tiny baby I held in my arms not five years ago? Is this Danny?”

 Despite being very excited and anxious about the arrival of his half-sister and not being able to stop talking about her to anyone listening in the previous weeks, Daniel fell silent with her attention. Suddenly very shy.

 “Go ahead, Danny” you encouraged him, stretching out your hand so he could hold it and come closer. “Say hello to Karen, she was very excited to see you again.”

 “Were you?” he asked, timid.

 Dr Keizler stood in silence, flabbergasted, watching the scene before him evolve. Both because nobody introduced or talked to him and he simply could not believe his eyes.

 He looked at you and the boy with gushing curiosity, a feeling he couldn't quite describe, but relish. Yearn. He wished you would look him in the eyes, but you were focused on the chatting.

 Professor Stratton chatted to the kid she called Danny for a good pair of minutes before turning back to him. 

 “How can I be so rude?” She faced Laszlo. “Mrs. Stratton,  Mrs. Smith, Danny, this is the friend I talked about. Dr Laszlo Kreizler.”

 “It is a pleasure, sir,” said Edwina.

 Danny promptly, and exaggeratedly, bowed in greeting. Giggling like only a kid could.

 You weren’t sure what to do. You already knew Dr Kreizler so the introduction wasn’t necessary, but you also did not know if you wanted everybody to be aware of it.

 Before you could do or say anything about it, Karen recalled:

 “She originally is from New York, Laszlo. Perhaps you've even seen each other around the city.”

 “Indeed. We already met” Laszlo answered, without taking his eyes off of you. 

.

So, this is it. The first chapter of the fic I talked about months ago. I haven't finished it as I hoped I'd by now, but I really wanted to post this. The Daniel Brühl's fandom is so quiet lately, I miss the old days.

Oh, yes, I did name the kid Daniel!!!! couldn't help it.

I hope you liked it!!

xoxo

#Lazlo Kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #the alienist fanfiction #fanfiction

[noforkingclue]

No Questions Asked (Laszlo Kreizler x reader) Chapter 20

Chapter warnings: mentions of character death

No Questions Asked tag list: @fandom-lover-4, @ajeff855, @booksarekindaneat, @greeneyedblondie44

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You didn’t know how long it had been since you had seen Laszlo, John or Sara but you didn’t particularly care. If they managed before you then they could manage without you. You had patients to deal with. There was still underlying tensions but people were desperate. Some even gave you cash so you knew that Alice had been spreading the message.

Still, it was a night like this that reminded you of the first night you met Laszlo and John. You sat, staring at your bed taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey. You grimaced at the rough taste and put the bottle to the side. You slowly staggered to your feet and muttered,

“Going to need more than new sheets this time.”

*

It was raining by the time you got the Laszlo’s. You were surprised that he opened the door and he took one looked at your slumped figure as he ushered you in. You practically collapsed onto the sofa and put your head in your hands.

“What happened?” Laszlo asked eventually

“Why do you care?”

“You disappeared for weeks and then you turn up on my doorstep. In the middle of the night while it’s raining,” you could practically hear the faint smile in his voice, “I am curious.”

“I killed a man.”

A thick silence fell between you. You peaked at Laszlo through your fingers. His back was turned to you but you could see him tense.

“What do you mean?” he asked

“I let a man die.”

“You let him die or you killed him?”

“It adds up to the same thing.”

A glass of whiskey was handed to you and you shook your head. You already had too much to drink tonight. Laszlo sat down in a chair opposite you and said,

“So what happened?”

“Why do you care?”

You looked up at him and froze at the look he was giving you. You felt yourself getting hot and you don’t think it was just from the fire.

“One of my friends died.” You muttered

“Oh.”

“It was my fault. If I hadn’t been so focused on this then I would’ve been able to save her.”

“Do you know that?”

“I could’ve helped!”

You stood up so quickly and leant over Laszlo. You slammed your hands against the arms of the chair.

“Instead I wasted my time with this and let her brute of a pimp beat her to death.”

You staggered back and fell back against the sofa.

“So you blame yourself for your friend’s death?”

“Yes but-“

“Yes?”

“But this isn’t the one I’m talking about?”

“Oh.”

“That bastard turned up on my doorstep. He’d been stabbed. He was begging me for help. Begging and pleading as though he had never done anything wrong in his life.”

“What did you do?”

“Well I brought him in. It isn’t good to have someone bleeding on my doorstep. Makes people think I’m uncaring.”

“And after?”

“Well he dragged himself onto my bed,” you sneered, “fucking bastard. He was bleeding out and I could’ve saved him or at least try to.”

“Well?”

“I didn’t. I let him bleed out.”

“Right.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say? Isn’t this what you did to Barker? Did this just bring it to reality?”

“I’ve seen people die,” you said, “you expect to see people die in my line of work. But I’ve never let someone deliberately die before.”

“Besides from Barker.”

“Besides from him.”

“But the question is,” Laszlo leant back in his chair and steepled his fingers, “do you regret it?”

“No. He caused the death of someone I cared about. Much like with Barker, more people will be safe now that he’s dead.”

“So if you don’t regret it why are you here?”

You bit your lip and stood up. You paced about as you tried to find the right words.

“Were you expecting me to tell you that what you did was right? To try and clear your conscience.”

“I…”

You trailed off and shook your head.

“This was a mistake.”

You started to walk towards the door but in a flash Laszlo was on his feet. He gripped your arm tightly and you looked down at his grip. You raised your eyebrows but Laszlo didn’t let go. Instead he tightened it and pulled you towards him. The crackling fire was the only sound in the room. Laszlo’s gaze burned into yours and you found yourself unable to look away.

“You came here,” Laszlo said quietly, “you must want something.”

Once again, you cursed your chosen disguise. It was needed but you wished it wasn’t. You swallowed thickly and resisted the urge to lean into him. Instead you pulled your arm free. You took a few more steps towards the door and said,

“Before she died Polly left me a note. Think you might find it useful.”

You pulled it out and tossed it on the sofa. You pulled your coat around yourself tightly and said,

“Good bye.”

Just before you left you heard Laszlo call,

“Thank you. I’m sure we will be seeing each other again very soon.”

#fanfiction #the alienist #reader insert #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader

[hereticpriest]

Bite

Rating: Mature?

Relationship: Laszlo Kreizler x reader

Warnings: Heavily implied odaxelagnia, period typical misogyny, period typical relationship culture, period typical discussion of a physical disability.

Note: Kincsem means 'my treasure' and szerelmem means 'my love' in Hungarian.

Warmth sinks into your back as you lean heavily against the strong legs and plush sofa behind you, chasing away the chill you might've had from sitting on the cold floor. Your upper body is wedged somewhat between bony knees and soft thighs, holding you in place in case you were to fall asleep. It wouldn't be the first time. A blissful sigh leaves your lips as you nuzzle your cheek against your arms, pillowed beneath your head and draped lazily over your dear doctor's thigh. The fingers of his non-dominant hand comb shyly through your hair, still learning to touch you with what he refers to as his deformity when he manages to speak of it.

His voice, thickly accented when he's as relaxed as he is now in the fire's crackling light with you at his feet, lilts over the words of whatever book he's chosen to read for you tonight. You haven't absorbed much of it, though you believe it to be a text rather than a novel - delving into the science behind love, how quaint - since he keeps pausing to underline passages as he goes. He doesn't ever seem to do that with novels - that's your territory. He often remarks that he likes to read some of his favourites again after you've made your way through them simply because he likes to read the little notes you've jotted down in the margins.

You let out a plaintive noise as he removes his hand from your hair, blinking open heavy-lidded eyes to look up at him with all the disgruntled displeasure of a toddler told no. His eyebrow raises at you as if to ask what you plan to do about it, and you scoff, shifting your arm ever so slightly to give you room to sink your teeth into the meat of his thigh. He yelps, fisting your hair in order to wrench your head back, and you let him. Your lips form a smug grin, eyes half-lidded and smouldering. The would-be pain of having your hair pulled bleeds into pleasure instead, sparking like wildfire under your skin.

"No biting, kincsem." He murmurs, guiding your head back down to his leg delicately for a man who’d just yanked on your hair. You wait on baited breath to see if he'll keep touching you, and hum with delight when he does, indulging you despite the fact that it reinforces your unfortunately bratty behaviour. He's been trying to get you out of the habit of biting since you met, with very little success. First, as a typist at the Kreizler Institute with a bad habit of biting the skin around your nails - stress induced, due to the pressure from your parents to marry instead of working for him. He had recommended a healthy outlet for your stress and a set of gloves to redirect you, and while the gloves did work when you weren’t actively typing, you hadn’t yet found an outlet for your stress. Then, your parents found a suitor for you willing to overlook your unfortunate desire to make something of yourself beyond a wife and mother, which led to you biting the thenar eminence of your dominant hand until you had to wear gloves to hide the marks and bruises. The gloves were somewhat of a deterrent when you wore them, as you learned to get quite adept at wearing them while typing, and had to pull them up to bite properly.

As you were reluctantly contemplating the aforementioned suitor's offer of courtship, Laszlo came to you with an offer of his own, a decidedly sweeter offer despite your parent's distaste for foreigners and lack of respect for his profession. He was still a wealthy man (wealthier than the alternative) of good standing (relative to the man they'd found for you) with a somewhat prestigious job, who wished to marry you with some level of expediency. Up until that point, you'd done your best to look at Laszlo as Dr. Kreizler - your boss first, and a man a distant second - in order to avoid any misunderstandings or scandals. You did not acknowledge his good looks, or his delectable accent, or the way his eyes seemed to see right through you. None of those things were relevant to your job. Somehow, you’d managed to do quite well in removing the man of him from the equation.

When he proposed a courtship, it had not been a way to save you from a worse fate like you might have feared it to be if you'd ever even had an inkling to the idea that he might ask. Which you hadn’t, because you had blinded yourself to him willfully to achieve a healthy working relationship. An entire world of possibility opened up between you when he forced your hand and made you finally acknowledge him as something other than your polite and kind boss, Dr. Kreizler. Your good doctor had asked you with sweetly pink cheeks and a flustered tongue, an honest fear in his eyes as he attempted quite needlessly to be forthright about his faults and how he might make up for them. You knew who he was. As you allowed yourself to think of him as an option, you realised how good of a man he truly was. He wasn’t a perfect man, certainly. He had a habit of being manipulative, and was far too shrewd not to recognize it. He lacked some social graces, which had given him the ability to see people that society had shunned, but also made him a bit abrasive at times. He was profoundly intelligent, which led him to sometimes confront people with the things they did not want to be faced with.

And yet, he was kind. Compassionate. He saw beyond your pretty wrapping to the heart of you, and appreciated both. He indulged you even when you were difficult. He gave everyone a chance based on merit, not class. His love warmed you like a fire, and very rarely burned you in equal measure. He was incredibly handsome, distinguished, and carried his age well. He dressed well, groomed himself appropriately and his voice made you quake. His arm did little if anything at all to quell your passion for him, once he lit the fire. All it took was one spark for you to burn.

It was as if the moment he began courting you, you began to see things you had never noticed before. Things that had always been there, and yet you had been completely blind to them. Despite the difficulty it gave him, he always pulled out your chair for you. He offered you his arm anytime you two had to walk anywhere together, and helped you in and out of the carriage despite having Cyrus there to do it for him. You, quite by accident, noticed him staring at you in the quiet moments in his office while you were typing up his notes for him, or taking his dictation. It wasn't the first time, though you had always passed it off as the man thinking, the direction of his gaze less important than the thoughts running through his brilliant mind. It wasn’t until you knew the fire in his eyes when he looked upon something he wanted that you began to recognize it in his gaze whenever he was looking at you.

Once, long before your courtship began, he had invited you to dinner with his motley crew of investigators at the Delmonico. You remember playfully remarking that you would have to buy a new dress for the occasion, only to find a dressbox laying on your desk the following morning when you came into work. Your insistence that he not waste his money on you was met with a disdainful look at the simple notion and a reminder that it would be impolite to refuse a gift given in earnest. Your parents would have had a fit if they knew you accepted such a gift from a man, but what they didn’t know couldn’t possibly hurt you. Every compliment from Ms. Howard and Mr. Moore made Laszlo subtly preen, apparently pleased to have picked something that suited you so well. You had thought his behaviour a tad odd - inviting the group's admiration of your dress, subtle as it may have been, was certainly not the doctor's usual style.

You had kept yourselves to courtship rules, holding hands only in presence of a chaperone for your good public image, what little remained. He took you on several long, chaperoned walks in between dinners with your family, and exchanged letters with you despite the fact that he saw you nearly every day for work. Your engagement swiftly followed, perhaps a bit faster than might’ve been acceptable if your parents hadn’t been in such a rush to be rid of you. The first time he kissed you, you swore you heard and felt him whimper. He was endlessly gentle with you, cherishing you in ways you never expected. He loved you long before you even knew that was a possibility, and he had hungered. Your next bite was to his lower lip, and then his chin, and then his neck. Instead of using gloves to redirect you, he now wore higher collars or guided your nipping mouth further down under his clothing.

It was a happy marriage. It is a happy marriage. Only a couple of months in and you’ve never been happier in your entire life. Your doctor, your husband, takes very good care of you. You want for nothing, except a moment more of his time. Just one more look. One more touch. One more kiss. You’re voracious - he’s accused you multiple times of being spoiled with a fondness in his voice that said he was perfectly okay with that. You think he’s been so hungry for you for so long that it’s only fair that you suffer the same ailment.

Your doctor combs your hair back from your face, leaning over you just the slightest bit to see your open eyes before he speaks, “You, my little wife, have not heard a single word I have said for the last hour, have you?”

You smile against your arm.

“Oh, no, my love. I was definitely listening.” You correct him, and he sighs, stroking the pad of his thumb over your plush lips and inviting a bite he knows is coming. He barely even flinches as you clamp your teeth around his skin, then he does shudder when you pull his thumb into your mouth.

“Some day, I will rid you of this compulsion.” he murmurs, and you bite around the base of his thumb before letting him pull free of you. His hand slips below the neck of your nightgown, and you shiver at the wet swipe across your nipple.

“You hardly want to, husband. Deny it all you like, we both know you like when I bite.”

He smirks, his strong hand slipping under your arms to help you stand on shaky, numb legs. Despite himself, he likes when you walk like a baby deer around him, whether due to his nightly (and often daily) passions, or simply because you like to kneel at his feet so often until your legs go numb.

“Come to bed, szerelmem. I think there’s still an inch of my neck that is yet to be bruised.” He teases, and you laugh, leaning into him as he helps you towards your bedroom. You’ve no doubt he’ll find yet another way to make your legs shake before the end of the night.

#laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #female reader

[renhaswritersblock]

NSFW Alphabet Masterlist

NSFW Alphabet

David Dastmalchian characters:

Abner Krill: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Bob Taylor: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Coco: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Johnson: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Lonny: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Murdoc: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Watch Dogs characters:

Wrench: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Richard Malik: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Pascal characters:

Joel Miller: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Frankie Morales: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Miscellaneous:

Matty (reprisal): | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Corey Cunningham: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

Laszlo Kreizler: | A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z |

(More to coming soon...)

#david dastmalchian #ren's masterlist #richard malik #johnson reprisal #bob taylor #bob taylor x reader #corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham #frankie catfish morales #joel miller x reader #joel miller #frankie morales x f!reader #wrench watch dogs #murdoc macgyver #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader

[f1yogurt]

Smut Prompts for the Danny Bunch!

27 for Laszlo <3

thank you for this!! here's a short drabble for Laszlo x gn!Reader [AO3 link]

smut prompts - 27. “I’m too busy.” “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

minors DNI 18+

You were in a playful mood tonight, and as you walked into Doctor Kreizler’s spacious study, you grinned when you saw him seated behind his huge wooden desk. There were papers strewn about on its surface, and Laszlo looked like he was focused, reading something intently with his glasses on. Oh, you’d have to do something about that.

“Hello, darling,” you greeted, walking up to his desk. Laszlo glanced up briefly in acknowledgement, but then he immediately went back to reading. Hm. You walked around to where he was seated, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek, your fingers dancing along the collar of his shirt. Laszlo inhaled sharply at your touch, although he didn’t pull away.

“I’m too busy,” he protested, although a slight blush had risen to his cheeks. You grinned, knowing exactly how to fix this.

“I’ll be quick, I promise.” Before he could protest, you dropped to your knees and slid slightly underneath the desk, positioning yourself between his legs. You chuckled when you heard him gasp again.

“Shh, darling,” you shushed, unzipping the fly of his nice trousers. “I’ll take care of you. Meanwhile, you can continue to work…if you’re so busy.” Laszlo looked down at you then, and you just grinned up at him mischievously. The man was still holding a paper in his left hand, and his glasses were perched on his nose, as if he truly intended to continue working through this.

Without further adieu, you tugged down his briefs and gently grasped his arousal in your warm hand, causing Laszlo to let out a muffled moan. It pleased you that he would finally have a reaction to this, and you wanted to earn more of those strangled sounds of pleasure from him.

“Schatz, I, I need to keep working–” Laszlo cut himself off with another groan as you began stroking him. Oh, how wrong he was to refuse the two of you a nice, long, pleasant evening together.

“Hush, I promised I would be quick,” you said, intending to make good on your words. “And I never back out on a promise.” Doing your best to maintain eye contact, you took him in your mouth, not allowing him time to tell you differently. You bobbed your head, using your hands and tongue and everything you knew that would drive him wild, to the brink the quickest. Laszlo was making the most beautiful noises, whimpering and gasping. A gorgeous flush had risen to his cheeks and had climbed its way to the tips of his ears.

You hummed around him, enjoying the feeling of Laszlo shuddering beneath you. Somehow, he still was holding onto that oh so important paper of his. His glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose, and a lock of hair now fell over his forehead. So much for working.

Before he knew what had hit him, and before he could warn you, Laszlo was coming. Stars flashed behind his eyelids as he rode out the waves of ecstacy, and you hummed your approval. When Laszlo finally recovered, he opened his eyes to find you buttoning up his trousers, almost as if nothing had happened.

“See? Quick,” you said, winking as you stood up. “Come see me when you finish your work, Doctor Kreizler. Maybe we can work out a longer session. If it fits into your busy schedule, of course.” You turned and walked away, up to your bedroom, leaving Laszlo to gaze longingly after you. With that promise, it looked like he didn’t have that much work to do after all.

#my fanfic #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #daniel brühl #daniel bruehl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl fanfiction #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x gn!reader #laszlo kreizler fanfiction

[roscqk]

Do I watch this gif on repeat every single day bc I hope someone will one day make a fanfic based of the way Laszlo looks at John? Yes.

#fypage #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #daniel brühl x you #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #laszlo kreizler x reader

[mypoisonedvine]

drabble requests?? yes please

Laszlo Kreizler crushing on a librarian and being a subby dork-

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting would happen when he developed an interest in the volunteer librarian at the University— really, he wasn't expecting anything. He definitely wasn't expecting this.

"Please," he whispered hoarsely, head falling back against the shelves. You smiled at him lasciviously, the look in your eyes reminding him that anyone could turn the corner at any moment and catch him like this... with your hand rubbing against the bulge in his trousers.

"Shh," you soothed, and your palm brushed up against the ridge of his head; his eyes rolled back. He didn't know it could feel like this...

"Please, please—" he choked, not sure what he was begging for anymore. At some point he'd been begging you to stop before someone caught you... now, his mind was cloudy and his body on edge and he just needed to feel good. You made him feel so good, such a primal response that he was too desperate to be ashamed by.

"It's alright, Laszlo," you encouraged gently, leaning in and speaking under your breath. You looked so lovely— he'd been busy watching you from afar all this time, he wondered if you could be as beautiful up close, and you were. You were beautiful, and terrifying; he knew he deserved his punishment after being caught spying on you, but his knees were weak as you spoke. "What were you watching me for?" you asked him in a purr.

"I... I don't know," he stammered.

"Yes you do," you grinned. "Don't lie— be a good boy and just tell me."

He bit back a moan, shutting his eyes tightly; he couldn't look at you while he said this. "I was watching you because I was waiting... to ask you to dinner..."

"Oh, dinner," you repeated. "Is that what you wanted? Dinner? Or did you want this?"

Biting his lip wasn't enough to keep his mouth shut when you ran your thumb over his entire length through his pants. "Both," he choked, "I wanted both— please, just let me—"

"You want to finish?" you noticed. "Right here? In your pants, in my library, where someone could see or hear? Oh, you're not a very good boy after all... you're naughty, hm?"

"Ohh—" he breathed, not even noticing that his hips were rocking against your hand now, "yes— I am."

"Spying on me, getting hard— you're a bit of a pervert, aren't you?"

"Yes," he agreed again.

"But you wanna be a good boy? For me?" you pressed.

"Yes!" he blurted out, a little too loud. "Yes, I'll be good, just please, please let me—"

"Come," you ordered, and he stuttered out a groan as his cock flexed and warmth filled his trousers... if it weren't for the overwhelming pleasure, he'd have the energy to feel the humiliation. "Good," you cooed, "good boy, Laszlo."

"Oh, fuck," he swore, something he usually didn't do. Then again, he didn't usually do any of this...

You smiled and stepped back as he finished, and the loss of your perfect touch made him blink his eyes open. It really hit him then, that you'd just caught him watching you and rubbed his cock and made him come in the middle of the library. "I hope you found what you're looking for," you announced, "let me know if you need anything else, okay?"

You turned and began to walk away like nothing had happened, and he watched you in shock, awe, and fading ecstasy.

"Laszlo," you said as you looked over your shoulder at him, just about to leave the row of shelves and return to your desk.

"Y-yes?" he stammered.

"Clean yourself up," you instructed, smiling, before you disappeared around the corner.

#laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler smut #sub!laszlo kreizler