#the alienist x reader

[gaypirate420]

Jealous//John S Moore.

John Schuyler Moore x male!reader.

A/N: this is based off a dream I had last night, also this is my first (and probably last) time writing for John or the alienist in general so yeah.

You were staying on Dr. Kreizler's home, you lived on the other side of the country but the infamous trio of self named detectives called for your help on a case two weeks ago.

You enjoyed your tea upstairs while John and Sara got ready to leave downstairs.

John followed Laszlo upstairs.

"I don't think he fancies my company anymore, Laszlo." You heard John murmur outside the guest room the doctor had for you.

"Nonsense John. He was more than exited when you send him a letter back in november." Laszlo said low. The doctor opened your door.

"Where are your manners?" You teased, Laszlo looked at you with a discreet smirk. You were resting besides the window.

"Miss Howard and John are leaving, would you like to go along with them?" The doctor asked, you looked at your cup.

They're going to see something for the case, on a restaurant.

You makes circles with the spoon on your tea.

"No, thank you. I'm actually very tired from the trip." You answer quickly, John looked at you confused probably even offended.

"I'll go tell Mary to prepare dinner for two then." The doctor leaves quickly, you meet John's gaze.

"Look at you, all dressed up." You said getting closer to him, he felt his cheeks warm.

"When was the last we had a time alone?" You asked resting on the door frame.

"Since Harvard." He remarked softly, you hummed.

"Since Harvard! We had fun back in the day, just you and me. I mean—I love Laszlo but you know." You commented with a smirk, he smiled softly.

He catches himself daydreaming constantly about a time alone with you just like in the old days.

John is hurt by your actions, writing him letters where you tell him you miss him, but almost ignoring him when you got reunited.

There was silence, he meets your gaze.

He looked at your almost dandy style, so rich and elegant.

You're handsome at least to him.

John always wondered why you haven't married one of the endless ladies that send you letters.

"John! We must hurry, the sun will go down soon." Sara speaks from downstairs, you looked at the stairs with anger and melancholy.

"Lucky you." You told him, he looks at you extremely confused.

"You're going to enjoy an evening with— Miss Howard—she's a beautiful and strong woman." You said bitter, John scuffed, you arched your eyebrow.

"What is so funny, John?" You asked.

"It seems you are jealous of me." He said with a smirk, you laughed.

"Of you?!— Oh sweet John, No!" You said with a giggle, you crossed your arms.

"I'm jealous of Miss Howard—" You said lower while you got out of the room, John followed you.

"Why would you?" He asked curious, you stoped and turned around facing him, you smiled and got closer to his ear.

"Because I like you, John." You whispered, before he could say anything you hurry downstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Ayo???? Here have this, I dream of it and I needed to write it down.

You saw me reblog shit about this show, I made gay shit about this show, it isn't a surprise I made a fic of this show.

#the alienist #john moore #laszlo kreizler #john moore x reader #the alienist x reader #x male reader #john s moore #john moore the alienist

[cas-backwards-tie]

The Devil In Manhattan Masterlist

Laszlo Kriezler x Reader

Summary: Attempting to provide for yourself as a woman living on her own in New York City, you pursue a job at the controversial, yet esteemed Kriezler Institute.

Warnings: Scolding, Rudeness, PTSD

Mentions of: Murder

Chapters: A Change In Attitude |

#laszlo kriezler x reader #the alienist reader insert #the alienist x reader #the devil in manhattan series #tdim series #my writing #my series #tdim masterlist #tdim #the devil in manhattan #the devil in manhattan masterlist #the alienist au

[jomarch-wannabe]

Daydreaming

Laszlo Kreizler x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut 🔞 (fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v sex, him speaking absolute filth in German, basically the inner workings of my sex deprived mind)

Warm amber light filled the cabin of the train as you and Laszlo journeyed home. A novel sat in your lap, capturing your attention for most of the ride. After a little while though, boredom got the better of you, and you flicked your eyes up to Laszlo sitting across from you. He was lost in thought, watching the passing scenery out the window. A rhythmic thumping commenced in your chest as you watched him, mesmerized by the habitual stroking of his fingers tugging at his dense facial hair.

The book on your lap shuffled slightly as your thighs shifted together. You swallowed, trying to peel your gaze from him, but they were stuck. Glued to him by a thick, sticky, invisible substance: lust.

Heat rushed to your face as your mind unwillingly became flooded with obscene thoughts. You bit your lip subconsciously as you imagined his large fingers pushing into your mouth. Spreading over your tongue and sucking on them, as you looked up into his commanding dark eyes. Coaxing deep groans from him, as he would become aroused, growing hard from the slippery suctioning of your mouth, imagining how they would feel sucking on his cock.

God you wanted that too. The heavy weight of his cock in your mouth, stealing your breath as you pulled deep groans from his chest, praising you in his German tongue. To be his good little schatz.

You'd free his fingers with a pop and he'd eagerly lift up your skirt, pulling you onto his lap with ease as he held open your legs with one hand, taking the fingers you just lubricated with your saliva and pushing them inside of you.

Curling and thrusting over and over again, hitting your sensitive spot, each time sending jolts of pleasure down your legs, until it's too much, and your head is spinning and you're holding onto his wrist, beads of sweat rolling down your flushed face.

"Laszlo.. Laszlo.." a choked whimper would come out in prayer like muttering, thanking him. Leaving red nail marks on the tops of his hands as you clawed at his shifting knuckles, reaching your climax.

"Be a good girl for me liebling. Come for me, go on schatz, come for me." He would mutter against your ear, making you shiver with his coarse facial hair.

His deep baritone would be your undoing, making you convulse suddenly in ecstasy, hips rutting against his hand as your eyes fall closed. The firm tip of his nose brushing against your neck, ticking your skin as he muttered breathless praises.

The weight of his large hands would come suddenly over your waist, manhandling you so you were facing him. It would be his turn. You'd hold onto the fur lapels of his coat, panting as you're just coming down from your high.

You'd be given barely any time to protest before he'd force you onto his thick cock, pinning your arms behind your back with his strong masculine grip. A helpless choked whimper would flee your throat at the feeling. Squirming uselessly as he fucks you hard and fast, smacking his thighs against yours, over and over and over, hitting that spot so deep. God it would feel so good, so full, so stretched out.

A unison panting would saturate the air as your bodies collide, chasing your highs. In exhaustion your head would dip forward, resting lazily against his forehead as your body was helplessly used.

"You feel so fucking good schatz. So fucking tight. Mein Gott." His Adam's Apple would bob with his moans, uttering German praises.

"F-fuck." a pathetic whimper would flee your trembling lips, numb with pleasure as his cock pounds ruthlessly in and out of you.

"Are you close schatz?" His voice would vibrate against your skin as he speaks against your chest, peppering sloppy kisses along your collarbones.

"Y-yes, Laszlo please." You'd squeak, groaning slightly from the burning ache in your arms pulled behind you.

The desperation in your squirming would only serve to spur him on. In a deep, frantic pace he would command you once more, "Come for me schatz, come on my cock. Let go, that's it, come on my cock."

His words would be your undoing. With a high pitched moan you would shake violently against him, rutting your hips as your second orgasm hit you, even more intense than the last. He would follow you, groaning loudly as his grip tightened, leaving red marks on your wrists as he injected you with his warm release.

You’d pull away slightly in overstimulation, making a mess on top of his thighs. He would release your arms, capturing your face with his hands and pulling you into a hungry, open mouthed kiss. A primal growl would flee his lips, satisfied at his claiming of you.

A string of saliva would connect your lips as he would pull back, "So fucking perfect, my little Engel." His lips would brush against yours, making you shudder with his intense brown eyed gaze.

"Y/n?" The deep sound of Laszlo’s voice abruptly awoke you from your sensual daydream. “What's the matter darling?" He asked curiously, eyeing you with his deep-set observant eyes. “You look to be in some sort of trance.”

"N-nothing.” A violent blush rose to your cheeks as you looked down at your lap. The pages of your book were crinkled from your grasp. You gasped softly, moving it aside to find a dark spot marking the red velvet cushion between your thighs.

A heavy inhale filled your chest as you looked up, surprised to see Laszlo smirking with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Is there something I can help you with schatz?”

#daniel brühl #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #laszlo kreizler smut #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kriezler x reader #Daniel brühl smut

[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

[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

[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🤙🏻

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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

[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

[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

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: A Change In Attitude

Laszlo Kreizler x Reader

The Devil In Manhattan

Summary: Intent on acquiring a job at the Kriezler Institute, you attempt to provide for yourself as a woman living on her own in New York City. Whether your plans succeed or not is dependent on your actions.

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: Scolding, Rudeness, PTSD,

Mentions of: Murder,

A/N: Despite the following, for story's sake I won't spoil it, but trust me, it is a reader insert.

It was a necessity, all a part of the plan; an expected transfer, a job wherever followed, somewhere close in reach of your sister. You'd come close to a divergence, the cautious eye of the Headmaster unsure whether you'd be a good fit for his Institute. Yet, the unexpected dismissal of a staff member meant that a replacement was needed, and thus, a spot opened up just in time! Fortunate luck, you'd reckon.

There'd been rumors, gossip of what the recently notorious Doctor Kriezler was like. Though you'd done a brief interview with him, there was still an air of interrogation, a hostile sense that despite answering all of his questions in length, it was as if he could see through you. That he knew something was fishy. Was something awry? You're not sure, however, the fact that he's known for calling people out is something that does you and your case no favors.

Upon your first day of work, you're handed a uniform. Grey in nature, you don't mind the way the plain fabric of the frock suits you. It isn't ostentatious or attention-seeking in any way, shape, or form. Something different from the dresses you'd been used to wearing prior. Having been given a room the day before to move into, even if you'd only brought a sparing number of items in your suitcase, an allotted day was still favorable. Set up in the dormitory, you were to oversee the girl's hall during nights. Now, having eaten breakfast with the children and staff in the cafeteria only a half hour ago, your colleague, Helena, guides you around the Institute.

"Usually the Headmaster would take on such responsibilities," she informs you, "however he's been intent on finding that killer of late. He denies it. Ludicrous, if you ask me." With a solemn shake of her head, the woman, at least a decade your senior, guides you through the long halls of the Kriezler Institute.

"Is that so?" You respond, curious to hear more about not only hear which murder she's referring to, but hopefully acquire more about the Headmaster supposedly playing the part of detective? If you haven't misinterpreted her words, that is.

"Miss Sanktorini, I can assure you it is unprofessional to fraternize whilst on the job, nevertheless unladylike to speak on such matters. I'd think you'd know better." Taken aback by Helena's response, your steps slow down, your figure falling behind slightly. She'd started it! She was the one who brought it up. Euuugggh- and the audacity she has to implicate me?! Attempting to control your breath, you run your hands down the apron of your frock before picking up the pace again.

Eyes roaming the elegant window-lined halls of the Institute, you're surprised that it's much bigger on the inside than it'd looked on the outside. High ceilings adorned with chandeliers, walls decorated with paintings and busts atop podiums, you can't even begin to imagine how the Headmaster acquired the amount of wealth it'd take to fund this place. Helena prattles on about routine and the different activities going on in the classrooms you pass, though none of it interests you, really. Her words linger in the back of your mind, digesting the information for if it ever becomes useful, however, you can't help but admire the foliage outside in the courtyard.

"It is rather beautiful, isn't it?" Helena speaks your thoughts aloud as she comes to a stop at the end of the hallway, books still saddled on her hip.

"Stunning," you respond, hands lazily clasped in front of yourself as you make no motion to move.

"The Headmaster has a few gardeners who maintain the lawn, while we maintain the innergoings of the Institute. Firstly I'll-" A shrill dinging sound emits from everywhere all at once and you can't help the way you jump. With the way that the sound of doors slamming open and the quick padding of feet follow, you finally recognize the sound. It was only the bell. Unconsciously your hand flew to your chest and you find it there now as your heart races within the confines beneath your corset under the uniform frock.

"The bell rings multiple times a day. Once in the morning for breakfast, then again for the children's recess, and finally for lunch and dinner." Helena dusts off a piece of flint from her dress which you hadn't seen. "Our tour comes to an end anyhow, the entrance is just through those doors to your right. Now that it's recess hour, I suppose your first task can be to help the other staff outside in watching over the children. Find Clarissa, you'll be in her charge for the remainder of your stay."

With nothing more than a curt wave of her hand, she leaves you to your own devices. Normally, you'd find this impolite and demand some sort of direction. This only provides the perfect opportunity for you today. After all, the only purpose for your appearance is Elizabeth. She crosses your mind once more, and you find yourself looking back down the hall where teachers have gathered their students in lines, leading them in your direction. Will Elizabeth be in one of them? She has to be here, you think to yourself.

Determination in your veins, you close your eyes for a moment to gather yourself, memories, and the impetus of your plan surfacing to the forefront of your mind. It's like you're right back there, the scent of the flames burned into your nostrils, smoke causing your eyes to burn and itch. Breathing more rapidly, it takes a moment for you to come out of your stupor, the reason being the people passing to your left, just inches from you.

"Who are you?" One of the children asks, the young girl holding up the line as she stares up at you, a curious look upon her face.

"I've never seen you here before!" A boy comments, garnering the rest of the line's attention.

"Children, it's impolite to bother strangers," the teacher reminds, having turned on her heel at the outbursts and started to walk over. "You must be the new attendant," the woman speaks, offering you a gentle smile and outstretched hand. "I'm Clarissa Aerborn."

"Marina Sanktorini," you respond, meeting her hand with yours in a firm shake. "I was supposed to find you! Helena told me you'd be my supervisor," you inform her.

"Oh? Well, it's a pleasure, Miss Sanktorini. Children, this is Miss Sanktorini. She'll be accompanying our class for the remainder of the day. Let's get to the courtyard," she introduces herself before following suit with her children. With a beckoning hand, she guides you down the hallway and out one of the side doors into the courtyard you'd been mesmerized by earlier.

The teacher lists out a set of instructions, or guidelines, for her children before letting them run free in the yard. Once she turns to you, intent on making conversation, you listen diligently, even while Elizabeth consumes your mind. She has to be somewhere around here, you remind yourself.

"It's rather amusing, actually. We haven't had anyone new in awhile so you should understand tha-"

"Is there anywhere else the children play at recess?" You inquire, the thought consuming you, even if you're sure it came across as rude to interrupt her.

Taken aback, Clarissa gathers herself for a moment before shaking her head. "All the children play here, unless they're summoned by the Headmaster for a meeting, or perhaps were put on punishment, though that's a rarity. Doctor Kriezler doesn't believe tha-

"Forgive me for interrupting, it's just that I have so many questions, and I'm afraid that Helena wasn't favorable to any," you explain.

"Ah... I see. Helena can be quite a-" Clarissa is about to speak her mind before she spots a child, her eyes roaming as she attempts to find a proper phrase. "well... you know."

"I believe I do. You seem to be so close with the children. How did you manage that?" You ask, attempting to form a reason for departing the conversation, even if she is rather nice.

"Well, you'll get to know them over time. I wouldn't worry too much since it's only your first day," she responds with a friendly and encouraging smile.

"Perhaps I'll attempt to introduce myself," you propose. This should be a sufficient reasoning for your departure, and won't make you look suspicious. Two things you'd desperately hoped for. Recess would be the perfect opportunity to find Elizabeth and give her a quick message, let her know that everything is okay and that you're alive.

Albeit, the task seems much harder than you'd thought. Out of all the children in the courtyard, blondes seem to be rather common. A quiet sigh tumbles past your lips as you attempt to scan their faces, searching the crowd for one that's familiar. You could pick your little sister out in a crowded street square, not to mention the crowds of the theatre, so this shouldn't be too difficult. Yet, with everyone running around and moving about, it's rather trying.

Eventually, you start to approach some of the children on the outskirts, not playing with the others. Most of them don't seem to know your sister or haven't seen her today. Still, you introduce yourself, seeking out your reasoning for this job. The bright light of the sunrays streaming through the leaves and branches begins to leave you with a headache, a dull tug of pain behind your eyes. It's only as you're beginning to grow half-hearted in your determination that a call of your name rings out clearly amongst all the chatter.

Panic rises, whatever pain had been troubling you is suddenly no longer in focus as you race to meet the voice. Careful not to get hit by one of the balls or trample an innocent child, you reach the little girl who had been running toward you. "Shhhh, shh," you command, one hand holding her head while the other brushes her hair back behind her ears. "You know how Mommy thinks that I'm dead?" Crouching to her level, you speak to her quietly.

"But you're here! You're here!" Elizabeth cries, jumping for joy despite the tears that well up in her eyes.

"I know. I'm here... yet you can't tell anyone, Lizzie. You have to keep it a secret between us. Remember how I told you that things were dangerous, how I had to save you? I promise-" you run your hand over her hair, sitting back on your heels just enough to search her eyes and gauge her reaction. "I still promise I'll make things safe for us. You have to trust me, okay? And in trusting me, no one can know my name. I changed it, it's Marina Sanktorini from now on, okay?"

Though you know she's probably confused on some of the details and reasonings that were best left to her ignorance, she nods in understanding. If anyone had understood the things you went through and the pain you'd suffered at the behest of someone you once admired, it was her. Everything you'd done... everything you ever did was for her. To protect Elizabeth and shield her from the awful things and people that roam the Earth.

"Do you understand, Lizzie? It has to be a secret between us," you repeat, sure that your gaze set upon her is beyond intense, but it's for good reason. You have to know; at this point things are life and death for the two of you.

"Mhm, I understand," Elizabeth repeats, sniffling as her fist comes up to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand.

"What's going on here? Did someone get hurt?" It's the teacher. Damn it! You were hoping for more time to talk to Elizabeth, but at least you got your message across. The teacher bends at the waist, inspecting the way you have Elizabeth's crying face between your hands in a gentle hold.

"I think so, you're okay, right? What was it, Elizabeth? Or should I call you Lizzie?" You ask, a smile tugging across your lips as stare at her fondly, glad to have her back within your reach.

"Lizzie! It's Lizzie," she responds happily, the smile on her lips clearly giving Miss Aerborn an answer.

"Alright, well it's good to see you making friends with the children, Miss Sanktorini," Clarissa responds, offering you a hand up. Begrudgingly taking it, you let her guide you back toward the front of the courtyard.

"You can't leave! You can't-" Elizabeth protests, running after you both a few steps. When you turn around, you can't help the tug you feel at your heartstrings as guilt clouds your emotions. Even if you know it's something you should probably feel the least considering all you've sacrificed.

"I'm afraid I need to continue showing Miss Sanktorini around, Elizabeth. You can play with her later," Clarissa retorts. With a gentle pull she resumes the path she'd taken, you following with a frown as you offer one last, hopeful look in your sister's direction. Mouthing an 'it's okay', you gather yourself enough to turn and face the music. After all, now you have a guise to put up.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

#laszlo kriezler x reader #the devil in manhattan #my writing #my series #the devil in manhattan series #tdim #tdim series #the alienist reader insert #the alienist au #OCs

[nev3rfound]

in another lifetime : part seven - h.z / l.k

knowing your time is up you have no choice but to accept your fate with laszlo by your side. yet zemo refuses to let this be the end for you, knowing there is so much more you for to experience and live for. 4.7k (it's a longun)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests are now open!

warnings: elements of tfatws series and the alienist, injuries, health problems, mentions of illness and disjointed info from doctor strange kinda au, kinda sad in parts (this is all sort of an au so be mindful thank you!) SAD okay - i warned you

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN (the ending)

thank you so SO much for reading this series and allowing me to delve into other daniel bruhl characters. it's been a joy to write and here's to IALT :)

New York - 1898

Laszlo stirs beside you, turning over as the sun began to rise. The rays of light encroach through the curtains, illuminating a slither of your face for him to admire.

He couldn't help but think how peaceful you look in your sleep, without a single worry consuming your thoughts unlike his that haunts his sleep. He knew this was the end, and that there was no stopping the inevitable, but he'd at least make the most of what little time he has left with you.

Rising from the bed with a stiff back, Laszlo attempts to be quiet as the mattress rose with him. But he knew better than to assume you'd remain asleep, you always woke at the slightest of sounds.

"Why're you staring, Laszlo, don't you know it's rude?" Your voice remains heavy with sleep as you blink away the last of your dreams.

Unable to stop the corners of his lips rising, Laszlo nods. "Sometimes I just can't help myself, dear."

"I guess that can be forgiven," You mutter, forcing yourself to sit upright only to feel a wave of nausea overcome your senses.

Laszlo notices immediately and he reaches under the bed, handing you a bowl kept in case. He doesn't even flinch at the sound of you retching into the bowl, only lowers his gaze until you're composed.

"I'm sorry," The words are muffled by the bowl, but Laszlo hears you nonetheless. Awkwardly he makes his way over to your side and runs his fingers through your hair, brushing it from your face as you lift your head back up. "Las," You whisper his name, too afraid to say it.

Yet, he understands without having verbal confirmation.

It's time.

New York - 2025

Entering the close to an abandoned-looking building, Sam struggles to hold back a sneeze as he walked into a cobweb.

"Ma-duk," Zemo mutters, following Sam in with Bucky smiling to himself at the comment.

"I heard that." Sam retorts, wiping the cobweb away. "So, where are they?" He looks around at the dust-coated stairwell and stain-glassed windows.

Bucky hums. "They should be here."

"Yes, thank you for repeating that." Sam rolls his eyes. "How are we here before them when they can do that," Sam lifts his arms up, copying the actions often seen from the sorcerers of the mystic arts.

Zemo's ears perk up at a faint hissing sound, and as he turns sparks begin to form in thin air. "I think they might've heard you, Sam." Zemo calls out, watching several portals form and the recruited team of sorcerers step into the lobby.

Now standing before the trio, Strange approaches first.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this? We don't know how she'll react or if she'll even come back." Strange reminds Bucky specifically, knowing he had the most concern about you returning despite the longing to see you again.

"She needs to come back." Zemo comments with a small smile. "So she can heal, and live her life." He adds, looking down at his left hand, noting how it still feels odd to see his ring finger bare.

"There's one thing though that we haven't discussed," Emilie speaks up, sharing a look of understanding with Strange. "If Y/n returns, she, she won't be able to go back, not ever." Emilie explains with sorrow filling her tone, picturing your bright smile in those old articles everyone researched.

You'd be torn from your family once again, forced into another situation whether you'd like it or not.

"She'll never see Laszlo again?" Zemo is the first to ask, unsure what to make of it all.

"It's too complex for the timeline. If she were to return, a new timeline would form and," Strange trails off upon seeing blank expressions in response.

"If Y/n comes home, that's it." Emilie states finally. "It's up to her if she does, but we can at least try."

"So be it." Sam nods, sparing Bucky a look who nods in response despite his shoulders beginning to fall forward in despair.

Both Emilie and Strange turn their backs to face the other sorcerers and begin their process. "So, Y/n will be home." Sam chuckles dryly at the thought, after all these years without you to tease him or make him smile when times got tough. He knew he owed you more than these past few years, even if he's not been there to help you through them, he'll help you now.

--

Wandering the halls of the Institute, your fingers glide across the walls laced with memories. You'll never forget the children, their laughter or cries for a Mother figure and them finding comfort in you for a short while.

You find your feet guiding you toward Laszlo's office, the door remaining ajar and piano now clean from dust too tempting to ignore.

Sitting down once more your back remains turned from the doorway. Yet this time, you can sense Laszlo lingering, watching you closely as you begin to play a gentle melody.

With your eyes closed, your fingers guide the tune, one you knew from childhood- a simpler time before everything became so complicated when there were no worldly threats and a lifetime of loss.

"You played that once before," Laszlo enters his office, listening to the song ending and catches your fingers slipping from the keys. "Christmas Eve last year." He remembers, unaware of the tears forming in your eyes whilst he smiles at the memory.

"My mother taught it to me," You whisper, not wishing to shatter the moment with volume. "she, she would always sing along whilst dancing with my siblings." A single tear falls to your lap upon feeling Laszlo's hand rest on your shoulder, followed by his lips to the top of your head.

"I know Schatz, we danced together, along with Sara and John." Laszlo recalls as he lifts his head up, catching the downturn of your lips.

"Oh, of course," The words pass your lips in a mumble. "it's getting worse, Las." You hate to admit it aloud, but you both knew it would happen eventually.

Taking the spot beside you, Laszlo wraps his arm around you allowing you to rest your head on his chest. With a heavy sigh, he closes his eyes, treasuring this moment with you. "We knew this was coming, Y/n." Laszlo remains truthful, no matter how much it hurts. "But there's no need to be afraid, remember that."

Laszlo can hear you sniffling at his words he uses his bad arm to try and lift your chin so you can look at him properly.

Despite your blurred vision, you can tell he's crying too. "What if something happens?" You dare to question, knowing this is filled with uncertainties for you both.

"We'll figure it out, just like we always have." Laszlo states as he leans in, his lips brushing over yours. "It'll all work out, my dear." He mutters to you before kissing you again, this time not wanting to dare let go of you.

--

On the sidelines to the final preparation stands Bucky, watching everyone's movements and listening to the conversation.

"I thought you'd be more excited, hell, I anticipated a smile at the least." Sam tries to lighten the tense mood as he dares intrude Bucky from his thoughts.

Bucky pauses before sparing Sam a glance. "It's just not what I expected. After all this time." He admits, his mind racing with those photos and articles they all read about you.

You were a wife, a mother figure to children who needed one. A friend to many and a badass detective. It was everything you dreamt of having, but never had the opportunity to experience.

"Don't go telling me you wanna back out?" Sam notices the change in Bucky's posture immediately.

Shaking his head slowly, no more words are exchanged between the pair.

"It'll be Y/n's choice, Sam." Zemo comments, having overheard the brief conversation.

"But she should come home, to where she belongs." Sam can't help himself. He knows he might be selfish, but he doesn't want to lose you again, not like this. "If she doesn't come back, she's gone for good. There's no returning, no miracle, no spell or time travel available. She will become nothing more than a name on a gravestone."

Sam's words fall flat between everyone. His voice had risen during his statement.

Strange clears his throat, ensuring their attention reverts. "It's time, she's ready."

Every student present begins to form a line whilst Strange stands before them. "You know what to do, focus." He nods to them all, stepping back toward Bucky, Sam and Zemo as the students take deep breaths.

"You sure this'll work?" Sam can't help ask, depiste how much extensive practise has gone into this.

One by one, a portal begins to open. Some are to places unrecognisable, the wrong time period or the wrong city.

Yet, Emilie's leads to Doctor Laszlo Kreizler's institute.

"Well, who's going?" Emilie asks with a hint of a smile on her face, watching Strange, Sam and Bucky enter, leaving Zemo to stand watching. "You not joining?"

Zemo keeps his feet firmly planted on the spot. "It's not my place to be involved." He simply remarks, crossing his fingers behind his back, hoping you'll return.

--

"After all this, you're leaving?" Tears line Sara's cheeks, but she refuses to wipe them. This is her moment of weakness with the three people she trusts with everything. How was this supposed to become only two?

Laszlo's hand remains on your waist, holding you close. He can feel your body tensing, noting you clenching your fists as light streams through your veins.

"Trust me, if there was another way," You trail off when the pain intensifies. It feels like acid is pumping through your veins, causing you to fall into Laszlo who whispers comfort into your ear.

"We can't let her live like this," Laszlo kisses your temple, not wanting to face his friends. "she will be helped, she will be cured." He reaffirms. "That is what is important in this situation."

John, previously standing tall now slumps into the armchair. "I can't imagine our lives without you now, Y/n." John dryly chuckles, catching a half smile from you in response.

"I'll be back, John." You breathe out, missing the look Laszlo sends John. "Can't keep me gone. Not when there's so much to do around here." Forcing a small laugh, the pain begins to subside enough for you to support your own weight.

Yet, something shifts.

Laszlo notices, but Sara and John seem oblivious to such.

Without a second thought, your hand reaches for Laszlo's, taking his fingers between yours and clasping your hand into his. He squeezes three times, and you do in return.

"It's time." You stand tall, with your husband by your side. "Don't try and have too much fun without me, alright?"

Sara and John rise to their feet, embracing you in a hug before allowing you to walk out of the office, hand in hand with Laszlo.

Once you have turned the corner, Sara crumbles into John. "She's not coming back, is she?" Sara mutters, feeling John's hand on the back of her head, holding her close.

John needn't say a word, because they both knew from how tightly Laszlo held your hand, knowing it would soon slip from his forevermore.

--

Standing opposite the building, horses continued to neigh before being forced to walk on, guiding the carriages from their view leaving tracks of snow behind.

"We're really here, huh?" Sam looks in disbelief. Despite everything that's happened, this is probably in his top three weirdest situations.

Bucky watches intensely at the front door to the institution, the large gates guarding the building delicately wound with golden leaves. And then, his breath halters at the sight; you.

Strange can see it play out and extends his arm outward. "I wouldn't." His tone suggests a warning, and for once, Bucky obliges. "We have to let her do this, on her terms."

"How long do we have?" Sam asks, glancing back at the open portal. The rest of the sorcerers are supporting Emilie, seeing sweat drip from her forehead, her arms already trembling.

Without blinking, Strange responds. "5 minutes at most."

Dark clouds above begin to shake, dropping snowflakes down on the city, adding to the existing used pile beneath their feet.

The group watches you exit the building, hand in hand with Doctor Kreizler. If it were any other situation, Sam might've spared a laugh at your outfit, knowing how long it must've taken for you to comply to such a dress code.

You continue your conversation with Laszlo, pretending that this isn't it, because it's not, it cannot be. And then you see them, through the gates, your other family.

Without a chance to catch a breath, the piercing pain increases and you let out a scream.

"Schatz, it's alright, I've got you." Collapsing behind the gates, you close your eyes, embracing Laszlo as tears freely fall, almost freezing against your cheeks. "I've got you." He repeats, hearing hurried footsteps approaching the gates.

Two pairs of hands wrap around the gates, matched with concerned gazes set on you.

"Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, I take it?" Laszlo asks.

Neither Sam nor Bucky can get over the resemblance to the man standing on the other side of the portal, but they know this isn't the time to fixate on how you could hate one and love another.

"Can we come in?" Bucky questions, thankful when Laszlo nods.

Snapping the chains, the gates open outward.

"Come on, schatz." Laszlo lifts a hand up to your hair, brushing it out from your face, his heart sinking when you meet his gaze. "We both know this day would come, where one would say goodbye to the other before our time was up." He speaks clearly, submerging the pain in his voice.

Slowly you rise with his help, unaware of your oldest friends mere feet from you after all this time.

"Oh, Laszlo," You whisper, placing your hands on his cheeks, catching a tear he lets slip out at your delicate tone. "this isn't goodbye. There's still so much more for us to do."

Bringing his hands to cover yours, he moves them to his lips. "But I'm afraid we won't be doing it together, dear." He frets, feeling your hands shake in his.

"Our adventure isn't over, Las." Squeezing his hands three times, you focus on his deep eyes, remembering them clearly when he first stumbled upon you all those years ago. They were forever laced with kindness, and sincerity for those who needed help. He never had to help you, but he chose to. And now, you will do him the same kindness. "It is simply happening at different times."

Holding back a sob, Laszlo squeezes back three times. "And that is okay." You finish, leaning closer to kiss him.

When your lips meet his, you wish to never let go.

Every kiss replays in your mind. From the piano to your first time together, your wedding, the arguments, the relief after a case, near misses during said cases, celebrations, losses and every little moment in between.

Snowflakes mix with teardrops as you part.

"I will always love you, Laszlo." You whisper, wanting this to be said between you both, for him only.

His hands begin to slip from yours until they're empty of your warm embrace. "I love you, Y/n Kreizler." Laszlo mirrors your tone, watching your footprints in the snow lead toward the large portal before swallowing you whole.

The snow continues to fall, and your footprints begin to be covered. But you'll never be forgotten that easily, not by Laszlo.

As the portal consumes you, two pairs of arms support you. "We've got you, it's okay, doll." Bucky mutters, attempting to soothe you.

Looking over your shoulder, sparks of orange dissipate and your heart sinks. A scream overcomes your body, leaving you to slump to the ground with nothing left to give. That's when the world becomes blurred once more and turns into darkness.

--

Three months later. New York, 2025.

It still felt strange. The loss of him and that life is something you're unsure you'll ever overcome.

You, like many of your friends, have endured more loss than any person should experience in a lifetime. But knowing that doesn't make it any easier, nothing does.

Sitting in the living room with an almost cold mug of tea in hand, tear streaks are permanently dried to your cheeks.

"Y/n?" Zemo enters the room, hardly surprised when you do not respond nor spare him a glance.

Ever since you returned, you've been avoiding him. Zemo has an idea of why, but it's never been confirmed. You were escorted to Wakanda the night you returned, and only last week released with a clean bill of health to New York. A clean bill of physical help, no one can fix the scars on your mind with ease, not even Wakandan technology.

As an act of gratitude, you asked for them to spare Zemo for all he has done and helped with. Though you never told him to his face, you were grateful for everything that happened as, without it, you would never have known true love.

"Hello, Zemo." Your voice is still hoarse from the nightmares that plague your attempts at sleep. Everyone can hear you cry and scream for Laszlo. Usually, Bucky is the one who rushes in, trying to ease the pain like you once did for him. "How're you today?"

Nodding in response, despite the fact your back is facing him, Zemo approaches you cautiously. "I wanted to thank you, Y/n." Zemo acknowledges, nearing the sofa situated toward the large pane of windows.

"You deserve to live too." The sentence is muttered, but loud enough for Zemo to hear it. "I know I," You pause, daring to meet his gaze for the first time. "I can't go back." Tears immediately form in your eyes as you look at him.

Clean cut, hair parted differently. Even his stance and attire are unlike your beloved. But despite how much of him differ, it's still a punch in the gut to see him like this.

"How are you feeling today, Y/n?" Zemo rephrases, watching you roughly wipe your eyes with the tattered sleeves of your hoodie. "There's something I'd like to show you, only if you're feeling well enough for the excursion."

Rising to your feet with a heavy sigh, you face Zemo straight on. This time, your eyes do not waver from his. "I could use a change of scenery." You shrug, following behind him toward the front door.

Neither Sam or Bucky question the sight of you both leaving the building, instead they were thankful to see you, even if it were with Zemo. "Do you think?" Sam begins to question, noticing Bucky nod. "And do we?"

"No," Bucky answers curtly. "let him show her."

Walking alongside Zemo, the chill of winter catches you off guard as your arms remain tightly crossed.

"My wife, she always told me stories are often intertwined in life." Zemo quietly speaks up as you walk slowly alongside him. "When, when I left Sokovia, she wished me farewell like she normally would. I gave my son a hug goodbye," His voice cracks, causing you to pause and face him.

"That, that was the last time you saw them, isn't it?" Your hand rests on his upper arm as he barely nods. "What did she mean, about stoties being intertwined?"

An attempted smile crosses Zemo's lips at the memory of his wife's words. "She said there would always be people in our lives we'd meet, and for some reason, it would just make sense. I guess I'd never thought too deeply about it, until well," He trails off as you both continue walking toward an unknown destination.

"Until?" You press.

"Until you came into my apartment with a look of utter disgust, the opposite of the one my wife once had." He remarks, daring to glance over and see the visible confusion on his face. "You, you're a lot like her, Y/n. In many ways."

Words fail your lips, but you manage to hum.

"I don't expect you to say anything." Zemo adds fretfully.

"Where are we going?" You eventually question, noting the streets baring away from the liveliness of the city, drearing toward the quieter patches, peaceful even.

"It's just up ahead." He tells you, leaving you both to walk in silence toward the grass filled pathway.

Thick blades of grass and weeds were overgrown, leaving little of the original pathway exposed. Your eyes wandered the grounds, noticing the increase of angel statues, named etched in stone and dried, dying flowers planted at the bases.

Suddenly, your mind drifts back to a forgotten memory.

"This is where she'll be buried." Laszlo sighs deeply, resting his hand heavily on the cane, the other in yours. "It was all my fault."

"Don't say that, Laszlo." You hush him. "It was an accident, no one is to be of blame for this." Looking around the graveyard, many plots remained empty, awaiting a new resident to take a permanent place. "At least it is a pleasant resting place."

Lifting his head up, he follows your gaze toward the large hanging oak tree. "It is indeed." Laszlo remarks, stepping back and lightly pulls on your hand, guiding you out of the graveyard.

"Zemo," You breathe out, sparing him a teary glance.

"I won't intrude, but I thought this is something you deserved." He clears his throat, coming to a halt with you by his side. "It's the least I can do for you, Y/n." A small smile graces his lips when your eyes meet his, and an attempted one crosses your own.

Looking down, your knees become weak.

It's covered in moss, and cracked in areas. Mixtures of grey and white spread beneath the greenery that entraps it. But there, clearly etched into the stone; Doctor Laszlo Kriezler & Y/n Kriezler. Husband and Wife, lived long eventful lives. Their adventures together and apart will forever outlive them.

"He-" A sob lodges in your throat, your knees finally giving way. With Zemo's help, you cradle the mildewed grass beneath your feet as your fingers glide over your names, remaining together, forever.

"Whilst you were in Wakanda, Doctor Strange was able to find a small temporary loophole." Zemo begins to explain, remaining stood by your side whilst you quietly cry. Your palm never leaves your husband's name on the stone. "Bucky and Sam were able to visit Doctor Kriezler, inform him that you lived and will eventually be alright."

Sniffing, you can picture it now. Your oldest friends, going to meet your husband from the 1800s. As if your life wasn't weird enough.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Zemo pulls out an envelope and kneels beside you. "He wanted you to have this, Y/n."

A wax sealed, well well worn enclosed letter is in front of you. Even from here, it smells like the institute. Closing your eyes, you can see Laszlo now, hunched over his desk in the evening. Once all the children have gone to sleep, the fire behind him crackles. But you aren't there to fill the room with music or laughter. He'll be alone, writing you a letter, a final farewell.

Bringing the letter into your own hands, you sit upright. "Thank you, Zemo." You mumble, aware of his presence retreating to allow you this moment.

Cautiously, you lift the wax seal from the delicate paper to see his handwriting.

Wiping your eyes once more, you avoid splashing the ink with your tears as you begin to read his final letter to you, his love, his lost wife.

'My dearest Y/n, I know this has not been an easy journey for you, schatz, it was never intended to be. From the moment we first met, there was something in you I knew I couldn't live without knowing, even if John claimed insanity from me for allowing a woman dressed in such attire to be seen getting into our carriage; it was the least of my concern because I needed, I yearned to learn about this mystery woman. What I had not intended, was to fall in love with her. That, however, is not something I can ever regret, for it was the wisest decision I have made. Your smile, your wit, your laughter. My love, it is something I think of fondly, and I know Sara and John miss it too. We often sit in silence here at the institute, thinking back to those days after an investigation. How we'd all sit by the fire with a whiskey. You might accompany with music, and Sara may dare dance if she'd drank enough. Those are the moments I reflect on most; as you were candidly content. Your eyes would flicker with unfathomed joy which travelled to your lips and warmed my heart. I'm afraid to admit I can't bring myself to sit at the piano without you by my side. That being said, Y/n, my dear, I don't want you to suffer out there. We knew the consequences, even if neither wanted to admit such. I loved and will love you forevermore with everything, but I want you to do everything we never had the time for. Travel my love. See the world, take care of your spunky friends - they are exactly as you described them to be. If things were different, I'd say Sara might have taken some fancy (but best not repeat that.) Now, I am sure that you are aware of my burial place, one I had made originally for you. Even though I know you live on, you deserve a place here, one for us to visit. One day, I am sure my name will join yours, and that we will meet again.

Never forget my Y/n, our story is not over. It will continue again, in another life.

With all my love, yours, Laszlo.'

Crumbling into yourself, you have nothing left to voice. You hug the letter close to your chest, wanting and wishing for nothing more than it to be his arms around you. For Laszlo to whisper into your ear that everything will work out.

But he's not here. He's long gone and this is your reality of life without him.

"Y/n?" Zemo quietly calls your name, having approached one more upon seeing you curled into the damp grass as your shoulders shake.

Opening your eyes, you slowly look up at the man so alike to your love. It evokes something new completely within you as you focus on him. "T, thank you." You manage to find the words, knowing deep down that they aren't enough, no words will be enough as you look down at the letter in your grasp.

"I understand, Y/n." Zemo tells you softly, extending his hand toward you.

Accepting his help, you brush off the grass from yourself and glance back to the gravestone.

Silence falls between Zemo and you, but for once it isn't filled with tension and the unknown; it brings peace.

With the letter in hand, your thumb brushes over the wax seal before you tuck it into your pocket and face Zemo once more.

"Helmut?" You speak up, surprising both yourself and Zemo. You've never called him that, but it's embraced as he nods. "Would you like to see your family's memorial?"

Feeling his breath hitch in his throat, Zemo looks around in confusion. "This is real?" He asks in disbelief.

"Yes, Helmut. This is real." A soft smile forms on your lips, one of sure gratitude as Zemo's hand rests on his own heart. "Come on, we wouldn't want to keep them waiting."

"I, I," Stumbling over his own words, Zemo simply wraps his arms around you and brings you into a hug.

Tears form in his eyes whilst you cannot see him, but you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

Lifting your hand up, you rub his back whilst facing the gravestone, knowing somewhere, Laszlo is looking down with pride.

"You deserve closure too, Helmut. A whole new chapter awaits you out there." You mutter to him, closing your eyes and enjoying the embrace before you set off on a new adventure into the unknown. IALT SERIES TAGLIST: (sorry for making you lot wait nearly a whole year for the ending.) @zemosbaroness @fillechatoyante @country-cowgirl-101 @kpopnena @telesynths @thebookisbtr @mybisexualheartbeatsforzemo @ajeff855 @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fangirl-inthe-us @marchingicenotes7 @graniairish @lol-im-done @cinna-minseok @sapphiredreamer26 @swndmans @soxysarah92 @thehornyfemme @bloop-booop @fictionlandslanddreams

#thank you so much for reading this series! #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler imagines #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler x you #helmut zemo imagines #zemo fluff #zemo imagine #helmut zemo #helmut zemo imagine #zemo x reader #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #avengers au #avengers fluff #avengers masterlist #avengers #the alienist imagine #the alienist #the alienist imagines #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson #sam wilson imagines #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel imagine

[italianraviolos]

¡HELP!

Hi Daniel brühl fandom, especially those who are simping for Laszlo Kreizler.

Ages ago, I read a ff about Laszlo falling in love with one of is patients.

I remember the plot, it was the story of a women who's Sara's friend and she suggests her to go to Laszlo due to her problems.

She suffers from panic and anxiety attacks and Laszlo tries to cure her, and one night tries to cure her in a different way (coff* smut *coff) and after that he invites her to the opera but a few misunderstandings happen about a letter (I don't remember what happens) and so she goes but Sara gives her a knife as a defence.

They come back at Laszlo's house after the opera and she feels threatened during a particular situation of sexual tension, so she takes out the knife and then ✨smut✨ again.

IF ANYONE KNOWS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT PLEASE TELL MEEEEE

Thank you✨

#daniel brühl smut #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl x reader #daniel bruhl #zemo x reader #laszlo kreizler #daniel bruhl icons #baron zemo #helmut zemo #lazslo kreizler #laslzo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kreizler angst #laszlo kriezler x reader #laszlo kreizler smut #laszlo kreizler x reader #the alienist #john moore