#laszlo kreizler smut
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𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 | laszlo kreizler x reader
𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 | being a traditional, well-behaved woman, you saved yourself for marriage. but the things your new husband has planned for you are... less than traditional, and might just show how poorly behaved you can be.
𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 | over 9k
𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | SMUT (18+ only!!), virginity loss, age gap (unspecific; laszlo is in his 40s, reader is probably 20-25), multiple orgasms/overstimulation, fingering, oral f receiving, squirting, shy/innocent reader, religious reader (but nothing tooo shame-y or anything), some innocence kink, a hint of medical kink?, slightly pervy laszlo?!?! (moreso he's just a wee bit of a weirdo and says some cringe stuff but like. that's just his vibe sorry)
Laszlo was such an impossible paradox of a man. Especially compared to the sort of man you always thought you’d marry— what you’d been raised for, even.
An accomplished doctor, a successful and wealthy man of high social standing— a kind, sensitive, intelligent, and patient partner who made you feel beautiful and special and, for lack of a better word, fancy. That part was exactly as you’d always imagined for yourself, though you had never really believed you could find someone so wonderful.
And then there was the other half of him, the pieces that even in your wildest dreams you would’ve never thought would make up your future husband. First of all, he was quite a bit older than you. Even your parents, who had always preferred for you to marry someone already established (as they put it) rather than your own age, were a little concerned that he was in his mid-forties, and only a year younger than your father. Of course, that was nothing compared to their offense at his profession, and the subsequent open-mindedness he had towards people your parents would rather pretend didn’t exist. Then again, Laszlo himself having his disability made him the sort of person they would rather pretend didn’t exist, though he’d managed to hide it relatively well.
Maybe they could’ve forgiven any of that. It was the atheism that put the final nail in the coffin, unfortunately… and someone as brash and unapologetic as Laszlo had no interest in hiding his beliefs to appease your parents. He hadn’t brought it up, of course, or protested to the crucifixes and cross-stitched scriptures on the walls; but when they’d asked if he was Catholic or Protestant, he told them directly that he was a man of science and didn’t entertain any metaphysical notions or, as he’d so thoughtfully put it, fantasies.
They instantly forbade the courtship and warned you never to see him again. And maybe that was when he surprised you most— he was so romantic, so… dashing. He took a carriage to your home and literally threw pebbles at your window, daring you to climb down the lattice and join him for a midnight adventure. It was then he suggested that you marry him anyways— he had more than enough to take care of you after a disownment from your parents. He promised to give you anything you wanted, to treat you perfectly, to spend every day trying to keep you as happy as you made him without even trying.
There it was again, the contradictory enigma of Laszlo Kreizler. A serious, even stern man, proposing to you like a lovestruck teenager. He had eschewed fantasies a few evenings ago only to turn around and ask you to jump headfirst into a fairytale.
You said yes, though. You really didn’t think twice about it— you knew he would be good to you. And you knew you’d never loved someone like you’d loved him before.
You wanted to run away right then and there, but he told you to go home for a few more days, to gather your things— he would send for them while your parents were out, and you could move in with him as soon as you were ready.
When you did move in, though, he seemed a little surprised that you asked for your things to be moved to a spare bedroom.
“Is everything alright?” he asked you softly, stepping closer to you as you crossed your arms over yourself nervously; you waited until you were sure Cyrus was out of earshot, carrying your bags away, before you answered.
“Yes,” you replied quietly, “everything’s fine.”
“It’s understandable if you’re feeling conflicted now,” Laszlo assured. “Having just left your parents, and not knowing if you’ll see them again—”
“It’s not that,” you promised. “Well— of course, I feel something about that, but I’m happy to be here with you. That’s not my issue at all.”
“Then what is?” he pressed. “I hope you feel that you can tell me.”
You sighed as he reached up to brush your cheek; his touch always soothed you, though it felt a bit different here, in his home. Your new home. “I just… wouldn’t feel right about being in your room, until we’re married.”
He nodded. “Of course. I shouldn’t have presumed.”
You smiled a little, though it was more out of nervousness than anything. “I… I wondered if you thought my parents were the only reason that we never— that nothing had—”
“Shh,” he soothed, pushing your hair back from your face until you looked up at him. “I don’t expect anything from you now. Well, only that you do whatever you like to make yourself feel at home here.”
“And what… what will you expect from me once I am your wife, Dr. Kreizler?”
Though you were a little afraid to, you met his gaze; his brown eyes seemed deeper than ever, and you were powerless to look away from them. “What do you think is right to give me, when you are my wife?”
You sighed a little, feeling his hand on your cheek move carefully down to your neck, his gentle fingers brushing along the smallest part of your collarbone exposed by your dress. Words escaped you; you wanted him to know that just because you wanted to wait for him didn’t mean you didn’t want him. Even before, even when you first met him, your mind had supplied you with thoughts that sent you straight to the confession booth.
You wanted to be one with him in every way you could think of… you just needed some to come before others, to feel right with your own beliefs. Even if you loved an atheist, and felt surprisingly little guilt for it, you were still religious yourself and wanted to honor God’s intention for marriage.
Didn’t mean you couldn’t yearn for your soon-to-be husband, right? It certainly didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the full benefits of physical intimacy when the time came.
But obviously, you were far from brave enough to say all that. Instead, you found your hands wandering to his chest, following the pattern of his suit coat up to his shoulders, biting your lip without even realizing it. He simply continued to watch you, and you got the feeling that he understood you better than you could explain it yourself. One of the bonuses of being loved by an expert on the human mind, perhaps.
You were almost in a trance, not noticing how long you were spending just gently touching and holding him in this simple way— until you looked up and met his gaze again, and felt a little weak. “Can we marry soon?” you asked softly, almost under your breath. You hoped he wouldn’t tease you, you weren’t secure enough for him to mock your obvious eagerness, to call attention to your desire for him. Thankfully, he stayed perfectly serious, because he was just as affected as you were.
“As soon as you like,” he replied earnestly.
It was probably for the best that Cyrus walked in to the parlor at that moment, and you instinctively pulled back from Laszlo, crossing your arms again. “Your bags are in the downstairs bedroom, madam,” he informed you, “down the hallway under the stairs.”
You nodded at him as Laszlo responded, “Thank you, Cyrus. That will be all.”
He left, and you looked at your fiance again, feeling a bit silly for what he’d seen in you a moment before. But he smiled at you, and you figured he’d be the last person to judge you for any of that. “I’ll give you a little time to unpack and freshen up, if you like,” he offered. “I hope you’ll join me for dinner at seven this evening. I believe we’ll be having quail.”
“Of course— thank you,” you smiled, watching him begin to turn to depart. But for a second, he hesitated— like he didn’t want to leave you— and you prayed he wouldn’t kiss you. It’s not that you didn’t want him to… you wanted him to more than anything. He’d only kissed you once before, at the end of a particularly exhilarating night out together, and you hadn’t stopped thinking about it for a moment since.
So no, it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to kiss you. It was only that, if he did, you knew you’d have trouble letting it be just a kiss.
Therefore, you were just as relieved as you were disappointed when he departed without incident.
///
A few days later, you eloped. You hadn’t felt much urge to have a ‘proper’ wedding when no one you knew approved of the marriage anyway— they were all too deep in your parents’ pocket, unfortunately. And even if anyone cared enough to come, Laszlo refused to be wed in a church (you thought maybe he would bend on it if you really begged, he was overall quite accommodating to you, but it wasn’t worth your trouble) and so it would’ve just been another scandal.
Truly, you were just as happy this way— it was the happiest day of your life, really. You left the courthouse as Mrs. Kreizler, wearing a stunning silver band he’d had engraved with your new initials and flowering vines all around in a swirling, whimsical pattern. His band was simpler, but you loved it even more— just because it was his, and seeing him wearing it made your heart skip all day.
Anticipation for your wedding night only grew with every passing moment. Laszlo himself was in the bathroom with the door shut— you heard the sink running, the various sounds of him preparing for bed. You were just trying to get your heart to slow down, trying not to have any specific goals or expectations for the evening. Today had already been perfect.
But, of course, it was hard not to imagine what was next for the two of you— your things had already been moved into his room. A vanity had been placed in it as well, a wedding gift from Sara Howard (a friend of Laszlo’s you had become acquainted with during this whirlwind romance), and you were using it now as you prepared yourself for bed. You were already in your nightgown, having changed after Laszlo left the room (not that you had to, but it felt more natural that way), and you were carefully unpinning your hair from its meticulous style.
As you concluded the final steps of your evening routine, you saw the bathroom door open behind you in your reflection; your husband emerged, wearing an embroidered silk robe that offered a view of a sliver of his chest— not very much, but more than you’d ever seen. You didn’t notice the way your thighs pressed against each other more tightly; he approached you slowly, and you eventually turned to look at him directly. With you still sitting on the vanity’s padded stool, he towered over you when he stood close… and as you lifted your head to look up at him, his hand brushed softly along your jaw. You tilted into his touch just a bit, smiling at him while your heart fluttered.
“You’re so beautiful, mein Schatz,” he whispered, and you felt a little giddy when he talked like that— he’d only ever indulged you in his German after having a few drinks, so this instance caught you off-guard in the best way. Not to mention he’d called you Schatz before— treasure, apparently, and a common term of endearment— but he’d never tagged it with mein before. And you were his, truly. You were glad he’d waited to say it until it was actually true (even if, in a certain sense, it was already true before).
He motioned, rather subtly, for you to stand up. It seemed simple enough, but you felt a little shaky as you did it— a nervous excitement, like the kind you would feel before a piano recital or debutante ball. Except those were all public engagements, and this was as private as anything could be.
Touching your face again, he wove his fingers back around your neck, his thumb cradling your jaw right in front of your ear. And he kissed you— just like that, quick at first but then slowing down as you both sighed a bit.
You admired how easily he’d done it, and thank god for it, because you would’ve spent quite a while working up the courage. This was different from the night you’d kissed him after a few weeks of seeing each other— it was very different from the kiss you’d shared at the courthouse earlier that day. It would’ve made sense if there was a sense of neediness to it, as if he were making up for lost time or relieving all the anticipation for this night. But really, it was all rather relaxed, at least on his part. Like he had all the time in the world: which, you know, he did.
You, on the other hand… you were feeling a bit more out of your element. Not that you weren’t enjoying this new one so far, it was just a little unfamiliar.
His hand floated lower and traced down your back— delicately, with the tips of his fingers brushing your skin through the thin fabric until chills started to run over you. You gasped a little into the kiss, and put your hands on the patterned lapels of his robe; you didn’t actually push him away, but he pulled back as if you had, examining your face carefully for a moment.
You hadn’t needed him to stop, but you were a little glad he did: just a moment’s break from it all before it became overwhelming. His fingers still traced gentle shapes on your lower back through the nightgown, and you found your gaze drifting to his chest, to your hands resting on it— and your own fingertips ventured into the exposed piece of his chest. His skin was paler here, with a reddish-blondish patch of hair just starting to be visible. You touched it, taking a quick and shaky breath, and wondered why something inside you tightened as you pet him here. He was so… masculine. His looks weren’t sweet and boyish, no: he was broad and strong (he would deny that one if you said it, but to you he was) and sharp around the edges, and it was something you never expected to excite you so much.
But you loved that you could still feel a bit of friction from his beard after he’d kissed you. You loved the subtle scent of his cologne, how sturdy he felt under your touch.
Your hands drifted up to his face, fingers brushing through his hair slowly, and he smiled at you. His hair was just a bit long for what was typical of men these days, and you enjoyed combing through the dark brown locks and noticing the little golden highlights in the dimmed light of the room.
The hand on your hip pulled you closer, pressing your body against his, and you tried your best to relax into the warm strength of his form while your heart kept racing.
When he kissed you again, he moved in slowly, watching your face before his own eventually met with it, and you fluttered your eyes shut as his lips gently pressed to yours. This time, you found yourself leaning in for more, kissing him back with more passion; you let out a little dampened moan when his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, taking the next opportunity to gently move further into your mouth.
He broke away all too soon, embracing you even tighter, pressing his cheek to yours. And when you, in turn, wrapped your arms around him and pressed yourself against him everywhere you could… you felt it.
Even if you had very little knowledge about this sort of thing, you understood what that hard, curved shape was, pressed just above where your hip met your stomach. You knew what it was, and your body did too— heat pooled at your core, every touch awakening you even more.
“Oh,” you sighed shakily, holding tighter onto him to just have something to hold onto.
“It's alright,” he whispered, soft words floating on his breath which tickled under your ear. “It's alright, my darling, I won't hurt you.”
You hummed softly in return, nodding as his lips brushed over your cheek, then moved to your neck. “I know,” you replied. “I trust you, Laszlo.”
But you couldn't help but gasp when his tongue teased your pulse, his teeth gently grazing the most delicate places they could find. His grip at your waist tightened when you whimpered. “Is this pleasurable to you?” he asked softly; even such a formal statement made you shudder when he said it in that low, buttery voice…
You nodded, your back arching slightly to press yourself against him, but you felt him smile against you suddenly.
“I'd like for you to say it,” he explained, an unfamiliar darkness to his voice.
“It's… pleasurable,” you panted. “When you kiss me there… it's like I feel every touch s-somewhere else—”
“Where, my love?”
“Here,” you sighed, grabbing his hand from your back and moving it between your legs. He instantly cupped and rubbed your mound, and your knees nearly buckled from the pleasure.
“Mein Gott, you're so sensitive,” he observed, his own voice sounding a little strained, “I've hardly touched you.”
“L-Laszlo, just touch me more,” you pleaded.
Though he’d been so careful until that moment, he suddenly started to pull up the skirt of your nightgown rather hastily, nostrils flaring as he bent down slightly and worked to hoist the fabric up. Finally, he got under it, but teased you by rubbing and groping at your thighs instead; under his breath, you just barely heard a growl before he began to kiss your neck again.
“Even if both my hands were strong, I'd wish for more to touch you with,” he mumbled against your skin. “I'd still want to cover you entirely, reach every part of you at once.”
Well, you liked the sound of that, but one hand was doing you plenty of good already— especially when it slid back up to cup you again, making you sigh and moan as his fingers slipped through your folds, spreading your abundant wetness all around.
Desperate to return even a portion of the sensation he was giving to you, you placed your hand against the bulge in his trousers. Though the shape and firmness of him made you gasp excitedly, he only let you rub it for a few moments before sighing and moving your hand away. “Not yet, my darling,” he instructed. “It's best if we take this one step at a time, for now.”
You felt a little silly, having to be held back like that, but you nodded. He obviously knew better than you about all this.
It was almost too much, the way he was touching you: you had your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders to try to keep yourself upright, frankly. And yet, for how overwhelming it was, you heard yourself saying—
“More, please,” you begged, “I-I need you, just give me more, please—”
“I will,” he promised roughly, “but not here. I think it’s only right that I take you to bed, hm?”
If you weren’t all worked up, you might’ve made some witty comment about how at least the bed’s not too far or whatever— but no, you just let him guide you the few steps to the mattress, and you sat on it as you simply awaited further orders. So little that he’d done to you, and you’d already do whatever he asked in exchange for continued attention.
You watched him roll up his sleeve— it took him a little while with the weaker hand, but you didn’t mind letting this moment last— and didn’t even notice the way your mouth had gone slack, you were nearly salivating. “Lay back, darling,” he instructed simply, still looking at his sleeve as he finally folded it up to his elbow, “and open your legs.”
You obeyed, of course, and bit absent-mindedly on your lip as you slowly lifted your knees and parted your thighs. There was no point being shy now, of course— and you were more than eager for him to get back to doing what he had been before— but you still felt a nervous hesitance that made your hands (and heart) shake slightly. Something about stopping to get in the bed had brought a bit of sobriety to the moment, and you realized in retrospect how desperate you must have looked. Surely he wouldn’t hold that against you…
He lifted your skirt again, up to your hips, and hummed lowly at the sight of your sex. Your face burned hotter; you liked the way he touched it, but you didn’t feel entirely comfortable with him… staring at it.
Still, it was the sort of slight discomfort that felt oddly… good? Yes, you were a bit embarrassed and exposed at the moment, but it felt wrong in that fun, naughty sort of way; it made your hips shift a little, presumably in hopes of some friction. Thankfully, their wish was answered: his hand was on you again, pulling your lips apart, slowly exploring you until your eyes fluttered shut.
“May I touch you inside as well?” he asked— as if there was any risk of you turning that offer down.
“Y-yes, Laszlo, please,” you whispered, whimpering as you felt the tip of his pointer finger— suddenly it seemed a little thicker than you remembered— press up to your entrance and ever so gently slide inside.
“Just one to start,” he narrated softly as that one finger made your toes curl, only one finger making your hips twist and your back arch. How could he do that to you so easily? “And my thumb can help with this lovely little organ you have…”
His thumb circled your bud, and you shuddered all over— even inside— and instantly struggled to catch your breath. “Laszlo, what… what is that…” you breathed, whimpering when he rubbed it again.
“Your clitoris, my love— you’ve never touched here before?”
He should’ve known you hadn’t— even if you had… explored yourself out of childish curiosity probably a decade ago, you would’ve remembered if it felt like this. Shaking your head, you were surprised by his little growl.
“Your poor girl,” he cooed, something a little attractive about the slight condescension of it. “You have so much to learn. I can’t even imagine the things you’ve never felt before…”
He slowly moved the pad of his thumb up and down over the flesh, which only grew firmer as he continued. “Oh!” you whimpered, hips rocking back against his touch— it was so wild of you, you thought, but you couldn’t really stop yourself. He pressed harder and your whole body jumped. “Fuck!”
He laughed a little, and your face got warmer. “I’ve never heard you use language like that, Schatz, but it sounds impossibly adorable when you say it.”
“I-I’m sorry,” you began, “I couldn’t help it—”
“No, don’t apologize,” he insisted, “I’d rather you said it again. Whenever you can’t help it, of course.”
You knew that Laszlo knew more than you about many topics, being a highly-educated man of great intellect, but you hadn’t expected him to introduce you to an entirely new body part that you’d been carrying with you this whole time. If you’d figured out how to do anything like this to yourself, you might have spent your entire adolescence trapped in your room, so maybe it was for the best that you never put it together.
You weren't sure how any woman was meant to learn these things— you figured she wasn't meant to, unfortunately— but if she had a choice, you'd certainly recommend this method, provided she could find her own husband to try it with rather than borrowing yours. What a visceral and beautiful way to learn how much that little organ could really do: Laszlo rubbing it with his thumb, with just the right amount of pressure to make a loud moan crawl out of you.
“The noises you make are just delightful, my darling,” he praised. “Keep going, so I know what I should do.”
“Just do that,” you begged, “just keep doing that.”
“Only this?” he pressed. “I shouldn't even add another finger?”
Of course, that was when he did— gently pressing his middle finger to your opening until it accommodated it, and you heard your own high-pitched whine in disbelief that you'd made the sound. “F-fuck, that feels… Laszlo, you're so—”
But you interrupted yourself, because he did something so diabolical with his fingers just then. He'd only twisted and scissored them inside you for a moment before curling them up, rubbing the most delicate place you never knew you had— just as he pushed down harder on your poor clit. You felt ravenous all of a sudden, terribly overwhelmed but greedy for more.
“Please, oh god, please—” you started to beg before you even knew what you wanted. He knew what you wanted, and he gave it to you: more. It wasn't even very significant of a movement, and yet it turned your whole body into his plaything as you started to shake all over.
“You react more than I ever expected, my darling,” he cooed. “I never dreamed how well you would respond to my touch. I've only just begun and I think you're already nearly there.”
Before you could wonder where he was talking about, he pulled his fingers out of you carefully. You heard yourself whimper a little, opening your eyes and looking at him worriedly. He smiled, seeming to enjoy how much his interruption seemed to bother you; “Take off your nightgown, my love,” he requested plainly. “I think I’d like to get a good look at you before I go on.”
Sitting up (and finding your head a bit more dizzy than you expected), you started by unbuttoning from your neck halfway down to your chest, before lifting the thin garment up over your head slowly. You felt so strange doing this— undressing in front of a man— but your heart pounded with hope that he would enjoy what he saw. Tossing the dress aside, you sheepishly bit your lip and waited for his assessment as his dark brown eyes grazed over your nude form.
He moved a little closer, his hand running up your leg and then around your side, reaching up to carefully cup one of your breasts. You breathed deeply but unevenly, your chest rising and falling against his touch. You were almost nervous that he hadn’t said anything yet, but the look in his eyes just became more and more clear; you whimpered under your breath when his fingers brushed over your hardened nipple, ever-so-delicately pinching it until your hips shifted a bit in response. “How beautiful you are, my love,” he whispered, making you squirm again with just his words. “Is it true you’re really my wife? This lovely, delicate body that only I can touch and caress, laying next to me every night… I don’t know when I’ll really believe it.”
You had to shut your eyes for a second— you might be too brash if he kept on like that, praising you so tenderly. “You could’ve been a poet,” you told him with a little smirk, blinking open your eyes again as he guided you to lay back once more, “if medicine didn’t suit you.”
“Oh, I’m no poet, Schatz,” he smiled in return, taking one more careful squeeze of your other breast before moving down to pet inside your legs again. “All I am is painfully honest.”
His fingers slid inside you again, and you could’ve sworn he was rubbing inside you a bit more firmly than he had been before— thrusting a little faster, pushing a little deeper. And all the while he was staring down at you, back and forth between your face and your hole, with a delicious darkness in his eyes.
It was still a patient endeavor, so much so that you never really noticed that he was getting a little quicker and rougher with it. You really didn’t figure it out until you heard yourself choking out his name, groaning and gasping louder than you meant to— but you couldn’t suppress it very well, either.
You soon began to realize what he meant before with that nearly there comment, without even having any prior knowledge of what it could be… there was something instinctive about it, something totally natural. You didn’t know what was coming, but you understood it; you knew you were on the edge of something and that if you could just get there it would be perfect.
Still, you couldn’t have known how much you would enjoy it.
You couldn’t stop moaning— it was this all-surrounding, ecstatic feeling, like… sinking into something. Relaxing into something… something warm and soft and good. Even a lifetime of religious repression couldn’t convince you this was anything but perfect. Actually, nothing had ever felt right quite the way this did.
Your back arched rather dramatically, until you had a good view of the headboard upside-down; and he gave you few more fast, rough pumps of his fingers into your shaking body before slowing down to a stop and letting you rest.
Suddenly drained, you melted back down onto the bed with a long whine. “How did that feel?” he asked, sounding a little formal about it, and you only could muster a little, exhausted laugh because what did he think you were going to say? ‘It was alright, tickled a little bit, but I didn’t mind it.’
“That was… you… you’re so—” you began a few times, giving up to open your eyes wide when his fingers pet up and down over the seam of your lips, gently exploring you, making you quiver from how sensitive you’d become. You weren’t even done recovering from the stimulation and he was giving you more; he seemed sort of absent-minded about it, the way he gently and repetitively slid up and down and up and down through your slick and swollen folds… but it was deliberate, you knew it was, because he smiled when you moaned weakly.
One finger pressed inside you again, and he watched your face closely and you shuddered. You were just the slightest bit sore, and it felt like that one finger was more of a stretch than before… which seemed impossible, but with the erratic pulsing of your walls, it was a little hard to keep track.
You gasped sharply when he put the second finger in you once more, almost snarling a bit as he watched you react so strongly. “Laszlo, I— I don't think I can do that again—”
“You can, I'm sure of it,” he encouraged, curling his fingers inside of you, which required a bit more force with your channel bearing down against him in response. “It might even come faster this time, that little spot is all swollen now—”
Before he could finish that sentence, he proved it by circling the place, making your hips jump up as another whine eked out of you. “O-oh, I— fuck…”
He smirked a bit, a delicious smugness to his expression, and the emotion looked much too good on him. “See? Just let me take control, my love. I think you'll like what I do, if you simply let me do what I like with you.”
Fuck, that had to be the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard. You were biting your lip to try to keep back the flood of terribly embarrassing things your pleasure wanted to say for you: you can do whatever you like with me; I'm yours; I'd do anything for you; don't ever stop, but also if you don't fuck me soon I might lose my mind, you know, things of that nature. Instead you let out a muffled moan, and nodded to make sure he knew that he had your permission for whatever he thought was best.
And, of course, he’d been right about you: that you’d be even more sensitive after coming, and would be able to go through it all over again. It only took probably a minute or two of dedicated, precise stimulation for the feeling to grow again… except it felt a little stronger this time, like it was building past the point that it had broken at before. Maybe your tolerance was higher, or something? You really weren’t qualified to say— all you could think about was this sensation, this tension, and the way he looked at you as you started to shake all over.
Your eyes fell shut instinctively, your shaking hands clutching at the bed under you; you felt sort of numb all over, except instead of everything being dulled and distant, it was only heightened.
“O-oh, oh, Laszlo, I—” you tried to warn him, words escaping you as the heavy, almost sharp feeling gathered tighter and tighter…
“Give into it,” he insisted, “it’s alright— I want to see it. I want to hear you, I want to feel you when you come—”
His voice was getting darker, rougher, more demanding as he went on; and in the same way, his fingers’ thrusts into you became more aggressive. “Fuck, I— I think I’ll— oh god!” you yelped.
“Yes,” he encouraged, “let go, darling!”
Your arms flailed around for a second before finding a lump in the sheets to grab onto tightly, your hips rocking against his hand, your head falling back in a scream; it was so intense, and so sudden, and you felt like the pressure that had been building broke so violently that it would’ve been painful without all the ecstasy running through your veins, numbing you inside and out.
You could tell that this one was different— hotter, warmer, wetter— but you had no idea what you’d done until the high had started to fade just a bit.
His hand slowed down to a stop, you heard him quietly catching his breath, and you blinked your eyes open… that’s when you noticed small wet stains on his rolled-up sleeve, and shiny fluid along his forearm— and a very proud grin on his face.
You felt your eyes go wide and your cheeks start baking. He spoke up before you could even try to process what to say: “That was excellent, my love— I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so magnificent,” he praised. “You’re incredible.”
You wanted to believe him, but it didn’t really offer much explanation. “Laszlo, I… did I—?”
“No, darling, don’t worry,” he cooed, scooting a little closer on the bed as he pet the inside of your thigh. “It’s natural— one of the… rarer ways that a woman’s body can respond to stimulation. I’ve always found the concept fascinating, but until now, my knowledge was… purely theoretical. Actually, I’d love to gather your perspective on the experience, possibly for a future research paper on the topic— but that’s an issue for another time. There’s a more pressing matter I need to discuss with you.”
You raised an eyebrow, curious what matter could be discussed in a time like this.
“I… I'd like to try something else,” he announced, and you dropped your head back on the bed in a sort of defeat.
“Something else?!” you whimpered, still catching your breath from the last thing he had “tried”. “What else could there be but making love?”
“That will be soon, I promise, I just… I can't resist such an opportunity,” he explained. “Your scent is so erotic, and it's only grown stronger now that you’ve so generously covered my arm in your ecstasy. And with anything that smells so delectable, one can't help but crave to taste it.”
You'd only heard about this before— sort of a dirty schoolyard secret, almost an urban legend. The whole thing had always sounded odd to you, if maybe not as icky as you thought it was when you first had the concept whispered to you as a child. You didn't realize it was actually something you might experience someday, assuming it was a practice reserved to the especially perverted. Now that he was offering it, you found yourself biting your lip as you tried to imagine what it would be like.
“I'd like to pleasure you with my mouth,” he concluded, really spelling it out for you. “Would that be alright?”
You weren't sure what to think of that, and yet you were already nodding yes. This was your husband, after all— who else could you trust to do something like this? Most of all, you did it because you wanted to please him. Because he'd asked you for it.
He smiled a little when you agreed, and began to lean down between your legs. Those deep brown eyes seemed to sparkle more than ever when he looked up at you, but his gaze couldn't stay with yours for long before he had to give a closer look to your cunt. He carefully spread the lips with his fingers, humming at the sight. “I wonder if it's even possible for you to be as delicious as you look,” he spoke quietly, and a needy whine caught in your throat.
It was just a gentle kiss to your clit first… then another, with his lips parted. Then he started to ever-so-gently suckle at it, tongue softly petting it; he wasn't doing too much, physically, but you never could catch your breath while he was doing it.
You whined a bit when he broke away, looking down at him in search of an explanation but finding instead him looking back up at you with an indescribable look in his eye.
“How does that feel?” he asked, his voice rougher and darker than you'd ever heard it before, making you shiver gleefully.
“Wet,” you blurted out, making him smile a little, a small laugh on an exhale through his nose that made you feel a bit foolish in an unexpectedly pleasurable way. “A-and warm… please don't stop, Laszlo, it felt so nice…”
He got back to it, a little more intensely than before, and your eyes rolled back when he really started to lap at you with his tongue— harder and wider each time, making you writhe from the intensity of it.
You couldn't even describe the sound you made when he pushed his tongue inside you. He moaned against you in response to it, though, and thank God, he kept going.
He kept petting your thighs, even encouraging you when your legs clamped down around his head unintentionally; presumably that was his way of saying it wasn’t giving him any pain, which you were a bit concerned about, even if you couldn’t really stop yourself. Sometimes you had the strength to meet his gaze, but most of the time you felt like you’d melt if you looked back at him— the way he was staring up at you was just too fiery, too intense, too beautiful.
Just when you thought you were getting used to the pattern of his tongue’s movements on your clit, he gently pushed his two fingers back into your pulsing channel. You were all tingly and sore inside, but a long, deep moan fell from your mouth as your back arched.
“Beautiful,” he praised, the word muffled by what he was doing— which he got back to more urgently than ever, twisting and thrusting his fingers inside you carefully at first.
“J-just like that,” you pleaded. “Oh, Laszlo, I— I didn't know anything could… feel like this…”
You could feel the smallest smirk on his lips as he continued; even just being able to feel his smug smile there was such a lovely, erotic, totally novel concept to you.
When he really buried his face in your legs, you could feel the roughness of his beard against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and buttocks, and god was it the most beautifully filthy feeling. It was really an excellent metaphor for the whole thing: the symbol of his maturity, the well-kempt facial hair itself a balance between his wildness and his meticulous self-control, rubbing raw your delicate and untouched skin in such an intimate place. If you weren’t too busy shaking and crying and seeing stars on this bed, you might have appreciated the beauty in those parallels, but clearly you weren’t capable of thinking about it to that level of depth.
The stream of helpless praises you'd been trying to hold back earlier? There was absolutely nothing stopping it from spilling forward now. “You're incredible,” you blurted out, your hand holding tighter to the sheets beneath you. “Laszlo— my husband— you… you must be the devil, o-or an angel or prophet— or something. You make me feel things, such incredible things, that I didn't even know—”
He opened his mouth wide around you, breaking the seal of his lips so he could speak against your skin. “I'm just a man,” he promised, “I'm just a husband becoming addicted to his new wife's pleasure, that's all, my dear.”
As he started to do it again so suddenly, you reacted suddenly as well: your hand found his hair and grabbed it, and your mind was too far gone to worry about it being too aggressive. Not that he gave any signs of annoyance— if anything it was the opposite, as he lapped at you harder in response.
This, of course made your hips jump up— until his hand slipped out of you, grabbing them and pulling them down, keeping you still as he continued. The simple show of dominance affected you greatly, another heavy pulse of pleasure hitting you suddenly.
“I-I'm close,” you whispered. “Laszlo, I'm so close— and it feels so different than before— I swear, nothing's ever felt so— fuck!”
He hummed encouragingly, and your whole body rocked in time with the growing pressure. His fingers sliding back inside you, seeming to curl even more than before, certainly added to the sensation.
Just as you were teetering on the edge, his teeth grazed impossibly-carefully over you, a sharp and raw sort of pleasure jolting your entire body. Of course, you couldn't fight against that, and the feeling inside you snapped as yet another flood of pleasure ripped through your body. Your ears were ringing but you still heard how loud you must have been, how totally wrecked and helpless your moans had become.
It wasn’t as… aggressive of a feeling as the one that had made you… you know… but it was probably the most powerful in its own way. The highest, the heaviest, the most whole. You couldn't hear him moaning against you through all that, but you could feel it: a deep and bassy vibration that only heightened the feeling even more. Your moans turned to cries and then sobs; it was too much, the feeling was spilling over inside you— you weren't sure how much longer you could take it all before you broke.
It seemed, however, that he broke first; he pulled away and sat up, leaving you both panting, sweaty messes.
“God, you're so beautiful,” he sighed, grabbing you by the neck to pull you up into a filthy, heated kiss. You surrendered instantly, grabbing into his shoulders with hands that were still pricked with pins and needles as your high dissipated slowly. “I can't wait anymore,” he mumbled against your lips, “I need to be inside you.”
“Please,” you gasped softly— you'd been waiting for this all night, at least. You'd never imagined yourself so eager, so desperate for it, though…
He made quick work untying his robe, leaning over you as he held tightly onto his cock and guided the swollen, leaking head between your lips. Yes, even with desire coursing through your veins, a touch of anxiety was still present. You just couldn’t imagine what this was going to be like, you could still hardly believe it was happening to you— and, though it was a bit crass to think, you were a bit surprised by the brief glance of his cock that you’d gotten. You wouldn’t really know what was big or small or normal or abnormal when it came to that… you had nothing to compare it to. What you did know was that it seemed much… thicker, than seemed appropriate to go inside you. Of course you knew that a young woman’s first experience could be painful, you’d heard that bleeding was normal (if not expected, but that seemed a bit barbaric and certainly not what a progressive man like Laszlo was after) — yet, you still weren’t properly scared. It was just the sort of anticipation that made you shiver and let out a long breath to compose yourself.
He groaned a little as he continued to rub against you, and you noticed the arm that held him up over you was shaking. You could only imagine how frustrating it must have been to be giving you all that attention and not getting any in return for so long, and you could only hope he might take a little of that frustration out on you…
“Please,” you said again, quieter, as you looked up at him. Thankfully, that was enough to make him press forward and slide into you all at once.
While his fingers had stretched you in such strange, sometimes overwhelming ways, his cock… it just fit. It filled you exactly the way you needed— not too wide or too deep… though you suspected it would've been had he not prepared you so incredibly thoroughly. And while his tongue has made you feel such unimaginable things, though his lips had effortlessly sucked ecstasy from your shaking body, having him inside you felt so simple and natural and easy.
He hissed in his breaths as he moved— slow at first, but each one just a bit faster than the last. Every movement stimulated all the places he'd already awoken inside you, and your legs moved on their own to latch around his hips while your head fell back with a satisfied sigh.
“My angel,” he groaned, staring down at you as each of his thrusts rocked you under him. “I knew I— fuck, darling— I knew I'd have trouble keeping myself together when I was finally inside you. Yet you're… you're even more perfect than I imagined.”
You smiled proudly, reaching up to hold his shoulders; he seemed encouraged by that, becoming just a bit rougher in his movements until your nails accidentally dug into his skin just a bit.
“I won't be able to last much longer,” he grunted, “but I-I can't stop. I can't even slow down, I never… I've never lost control like this before.”
A shiver ran up your whole body, even seeming to make you clench inside— and he moaned in return, a beautifully pitiful sound.
“I'm sorry,” he offered between panting breaths, and you barely mustered the energy to laugh.
“Beloved, what do you have to apologize for?” you teased through a grin. “Surely you're not worried that I will be left unsatisfied.”
“I would rather bring you to orgasm again,” he explained, “but I'm so desperate for you, I'm afraid I lack the patience for it.”
“I would rather pleasure my husband, for once,” you replied, “but you couldn't possibly feel what I felt, I don't think I'll ever be able to really return the favor—”
“It's no favor,” he insisted. “Your pleasure is what I desire. And a good wife gives her husband what he desires, no?”
You whimpered desperately, pathetically even. “I'll be good for you, Laszlo,” you promised weakly, “I want to be a good wife to you…”
“You're a very good wife, my dear,” he assured. “Look how much pleasure you've let me take from you, look how you've soaked our bed with your lovely nectar…”
You weren't sure which part of that aroused you the most… but our bed was a serious contender.
“And you taste absolutely divine,” he added, before kissing you again to let you taste it, too. It was a sloppy and needy kiss, not precise and careful like basically everything else he'd done to you so far, but you loved it. You loved any sign that he might be just as desperate as you.
Once again his speed and intensity picked up, until you could hear his skin hitting against yours loudly, and your back arched a bit at how perfectly dirty it felt. His cock hit a spot deep inside you, and you sucked in a sharp breath. “Laszlo,” you blurted out, and he groaned as he moved his kiss to your neck.
“Keep saying my name,” he demanded. “Tell me who your husband is— who makes you feel this way you've never felt before.”
“Laszlo,” you said again, “I'm yours. Anything you want from me, it's yours.”
“Yes,” he agreed with a heavy sigh.
“Your wife, always,” you continued, and it made your own heart swell along with encouraging him: he moved faster, rocked deeper into you, and breathed heavy against your ear as your back arched from the erotic perfection of the moment.
“My wife,” he repeated, making you whine and nod and bear down on him with your walls.
“Yes,” you gasped, “yes— yours, I’m yours—”
“I-I can't hold back anymore,” he moaned, “I don't… I don't even know if I can bring myself to pull out before—”
“Don't,” you begged. “I want it inside, Laszlo. I want all of you inside me.”
“Oh, darling, mein Schatz, I—” he choked, but he never finished his sentence. He just moaned louder and louder and fucked you faster and faster— until you were nearly screaming from how hard he hammered into you.
It stopped all at once; he pressed himself as deep inside you as he could, so deep you felt like you were struggling to breathe, and hid his face in the curve of your neck as he came inside you.
And for a long, beautiful moment, you just laid together; you were sort of halfway between awake and asleep, your whole body thrummed with emotions and sensations you never thought you could fit within yourself. Time passed, surely, but you wouldn’t have known the difference. His weight on top of you wasn’t too heavy, though it did keep you pressed into the mattress and sheets— not that you were going anywhere anyways.
You only really came back to reality when you felt small kisses trailing your neck; you hummed and squirmed a little beneath him, making you both groan as it stirred where you were connected. He must have been a bit sore, too, though you felt like you’d been through quite a lot more and had a better excuse.
He moved again, just barely, and you winced as you held onto his back. “Don’t go,” you whispered, afraid of the pain if he didn’t just stay still inside you.
“I have to, sometime,” he breathed in return.
“But—”
“I know, my love,” he cooed, “I’d stay inside you forever if I could. But I’ll hurt you more if I don’t give you time to rest.”
Resigning yourself with a sigh, you nodded a little and scrunched up your face as he pulled his hips back. It did sting, but it faded quickly once he was out— and the feeling was replaced with a warm, wet feeling that you realized must have been his seed leaking out of you. It made you feel a bit dirty, but wonderful, too.
He laid beside you with a deep breath, his hand coming up to your face and turning it so you would look back at him. You had to blink a few times to really see clearly, and even still, everything seemed a bit blurry around the edges. The whole world seemed a bit softer, really. “I love you, darling wife,” he told you simply, his voice soft but no longer a whisper, and he pet your cheek as he leaned in to kiss the bridge of your nose.
“I love you too, husband,” you cooed in reply. “You’re so wonderful— a-and you’re nothing like I imagined, sometimes.”
“Perhaps I should have been more careful,” he offered nervously.
“No— that was perfect,” you promised.
“I meant the very end, there,” he clarified, his hand running down over your body and resting on your stomach. “You might have wanted to wait longer… if you had a child so soon, you might wish we had more time just the two of us.”
Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he meant. “Oh, that…” you mumbled, smiling a bit to yourself.
“I fully intended to have my finish elsewhere, to lower the chances— I didn’t think I would become so… impulsive,” he sighed. “I hoped to still control myself, but I’m afraid I wasn’t quite able to, once I was within you. But I couldn’t help it, with the way you feel…”
“It’s alright,” you laughed weakly, “it’s not as if I were acting rationally. I never… I didn’t think I could be so… so—”
A thousand words came to mind. Unladylike. Animalistic. Desperate. Insatiable.
“I didn’t think I’d ever act like that,” you said instead, voice getting a little softer as you felt a bit shy again.
“I knew you would,” he responded, making you look at him with wide eyes and warming cheeks.
“You— but I— I was always—!”
“Yes, you behaved very well each time I met you” he recalled with a proud smile, “always so sweet and well-mannered. But I knew you had so much need within you, so much hunger… a being of pure instinct just waiting to take over when the time was right.”
Your heart skipped a beat— you felt a bit… accused by that statement, yet you couldn’t really deny it. Even if you hadn’t known it before, it was clearly true now. “How… how could you have sensed that?” you wondered.
He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you again; you loved the way he looked in that moment. His expression was familiar, but the total lack of composure— flushed cheeks, sweat on his brow, messed hair— was totally new and quite pleasant. “If you didn’t have any desire to misbehave, my darling, you wouldn’t have been going out with me.”
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A Sensual Education - Laszlo Kreizler
I learned a lot about clits for this fic, didn't realize how much people (mostly men) hated them. Everyone, go touch your clits, treasure them, they deserve it after people like Freud wanted to get rid of them cause they were too insecure of themselves and scared of women🙃
Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), typical 19th century ideology, misogyny, religious guilt, pining, innocence kink, fingering, virginity loss, soft dom!Laszlo, consent is sexy, flufffff
3.4K Words🤙🏻
~~~~~~~~~~
From an early age, you were always taught that anything do to with sex was a sin. You weren’t really told why but it was an unspoken moral rule.
Women weren’t allowed to have sex until after marriage and if the man wants it. Women were for men’s pleasure and to make babies; that was it. From an early age, you were always doubtful of this but you were always too scared to make your concerns known.
You had asked your mother about it after you started your courses, but you were immediately shut down and scolded for even thinking such a thing. So every time you had a question or concern, you always had to push it down and you never spoke about it.
Once, you had heard, in the middle of the night, your mother with your father in their bedroom, it sounded like they were both in pain. You peaked inside their room and what you saw shocked you to your core. It was not in fact your mother, but it was your father with another woman. It looked painful. Why would someone engage in such acts if it was painful? It didn’t make sense.
From an early age, you were already seeing contradictions from everyone and you didn’t know what to believe.
One night, you tried touching yourself, just out of curiosity. It felt…different, but good. Though you were too scared and embarrassed to continue. Surely, you were going to hell for what you did. You prayed for forgiveness, and you never touched yourself again.
You knew it would probably bring shame upon you and your family, but you had always wanted to pursue a career in psychology. The mind was fascinating, and you had always wanted to figure out what causes people to do what they do; why they lie, why they hurt others, why they are so insistent on following old rules. Doctor Laszlo Kreizler had been looking for someone to intern for him. Despite being a woman, the doctor seemed happy to welcome you to his team.
It was very early on when you started to see Doctor Kreizler in a different light, one that you had not seen anyone before. He was very handsome, even your mother had confessed that to you privately. But it felt different this time. You had crushes before, but you never thought to act on them. You just figured that your parents would find you a man to marry and that would be that, but thankfully they weren’t that old fashioned. You were allowed to choose someone for yourself if you wanted, and you found that Laszlo was someone you wanted very badly. Just one small problem: he was your boss and you had no idea if he’d ever feel the same way.
You’d feel embarrassed every time you interacted with him, which was a lot. You would have to really concentrate whenever he was teaching you what to do with certain patients, and you managed well enough. Sometimes you’d sit in on one of his counseling sessions to see what he does and how he goes about it, but his voice was so mesmerizing that you’d forget exactly what he had been saying. It was debilitating, your crush, always feeling such yearning whenever he caught your gaze; but you had to move on. It definitely would not be professional if you acted on your sinful feelings to him.
Your lust got even worse when Laszlo started to get more touchy feely with you. He wasn’t inappropriate of course, just lingering touches here and there whenever you did a good job with the patients; but that was more than enough for your fantasies to run wild with false hope that he might’ve liked you back. He even insisted you call him by his first name, before you always addressed him as Doctor Kreizler. He unknowingly was only fanning the flames of your infatuation.
Your crush just kept growing stronger and stronger.
Finally, one day, one of the doctor’s other employee’s told you that he needed to see you in his office later that day. You were instantly worried, thinking you may have done a bad job or worse, he had found out about your crush on him. But the employee said you had nothing to worry about, telling you that you were the fastest learner they had ever seen. It lessened your nerves…only slightly. You’d just have to find out for yourself.
You decided to go to his office early, otherwise you’d be worrying yourself to death and you didn’t care much for that. But when you arrived, the doctor wasn’t there. Serves you right for being impatient, you supposed.
You waited in Doctor Kreizler’s office, twiddling your thumbs and failing to calm your nerves. So instead, you decided to look around, despite knowing you shouldn’t, but you didn’t know what else to do.
Scanning his bookshelves absentmindedly, you came across a particularly eye-catching name. Kama Sutra? You let out an audible gasp as you saw the cover on the front of the book. It was a man and a woman being…intimate with each other. You tried not to judge, but what kind of deviant would keep a book like this? Despite your initial horror, you couldn’t help but skim through the pages, feeling yourself growing uncomfortably hot at the words and illustrations. There were words on those pages that you didn’t even have a clue what they meant, but they felt dirty regardless.
You were so enraptured by all this new information that you didn’t notice Doctor Kreizler walk in. You all but jumped out of your skin as you heard him clear his throat, looking at you expectantly. “Oh, Lord, I am so sorry, Doctor. I was just waiting for you to get back but this caught my eye, I didn’t mean to pry, I promise.” You rambled with a slight stutter, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest when Laszlo took the book from you with a ghost of a smile. “Please, sir, don’t tell anyone I was looking at this, if my parents found out, they’d throw me on the streets! I’ll pray for forgiveness!”
Laszlo gently shook his head, patting your shoulder reassuringly. “It’s quite alright, it’ll stay between us. Please, you don’t have to put on the pious act for me.”
You furrowed your brow, tilting your head slightly in confusion. “An act, sir? What do you mean?”
“The whole pretending that you think every single thing pertaining to sex is sinful and immoral.” He said with a brittle chuckle.
“It…it’s not?”
Laszlo froze, his eyes scanning your face for any indication that you were playing up the innocent act, but he didn’t find anything about your expression that would lead him to believe that you were lying. Were you actually this innocent? “You’ve never been taught about sex before? Anything about it?”
Your cheeks felt like they had been lit aflame, you looked down, your hair hiding your face slightly. “It’s a sin, especially before marriage. The only reason to do it is if you want to have a child.” You recited from what you learned from your parents and pastor.
“God, is that what your parents taught you? Hypocrites. It’s ridiculous. Of course sex isn’t sinful.”
“But…what about touching oneself? Surely that’s a sin, right?”
“It’s a natural part of growing up. Everyone has done it, there’s nothing to be ashamed about.” Laszlo noticed your nervousness, the fiddling with your hands and your eyes anywhere but his. “Have you never touched yourself before? Never even tried?”
You bit your lip, rubbing your hand up your arm as you felt goosebumps start to rise. “Once, but it didn’t feel right…at all. I never tried again. I never should have done it in the first place.” You felt ashamed talking about this with someone as professional as Laszlo. He must’ve been so ashamed of you as well, you wished you never even set foot in his office. But what you didn’t know was Laszlo was feeling ashamed of himself for how lustful he felt all of a sudden. The thought that you had never experienced sexual pleasure made his pants feel way too tight in that moment, and he felt sorry for you, but not in a condescending way. It would be a risk for your professional relationship, but it was one he was willing to take.
You didn’t notice Laszlo walking closer to you until you felt his hand gently graze your hand that was nervously holding your other arm. You felt your heart skip a beat as you finally looked up at him, finding his eyes to be searching yours. His tantalizing stare felt like it was penetrating your soul, him being so close to you that you could see your own startled expression in his dilated pupils. “Do you want me to show you how it’s done?” Laszlo asked in a low tone, his voice almost gravelly, causing a shiver to run down your spine in anticipation.
You didn’t know why, but you suddenly felt a burning hot desire in your lower stomach, a slick wetness pooling at the apex of your thighs. Your expression reflected in his eyes turned from being startled to almost dazed. Out of anything he could’ve said, Laszlo surprised you with that. You wanted to say yes, so badly. But… “What will happen to me if I say yes?” You asked timidly, glancing down at his hand on yours.
“Nothing that you don’t consent to.” He smiled softly, but with your fearful expression, he realized what you actually were asking. “I promise, you’re not going to hell if you allow me to do this.”
You exhaled shakily. “Okay.”
Laszlo smiled, running his hand up to your shoulder and moving a piece of hair out of your face. “Sit on my desk and lift up your skirts for me please.” He instructed, and you obeyed nervously, feeling your whole body heat up as he watched intently as you exposed most of your legs to him. “Good girl.” You try not to squirm as Laszlo stood right next to you, feeling his breath on your neck as he lightly held you in place with his right arm and using his left hand to gently trail up your inner thigh, eliciting another shiver from you. “If I do anything that you don’t like or want to stop for any reason, just tell me and I’ll stop. Okay?”
You nodded. “Okay.”
You took a deep breath as Laszlo finally reached your aching cunt, exhaling sharply when his fingers made contact with your sex. “Spread your legs for me, my dear.” You gasped as he touched a spot that was particularly sensitive. “Is that painful?” He asked, but you quickly shook your head no. “This spot is called the clitoris, it’s the only human organ where its sole purpose is to provide pleasure. Isn’t that extraordinary?” He spoke huskily into your ear, causing goosebumps to rise all over your body, all while you were still struggling to keep still as he kept slowly rubbing circles on your clit. You wanted him to go faster, but all you could do was whimper pitifully as Laszlo started to kiss and nip at your neck. “How does that feel, Schatz?”
“G-Good…” You whimpered, “so good but…”
“What is it?”
“Can you…move a bit faster, please?” Laszlo smirked at your stuttering voice, finding your shyness adorable. Instead of giving you what you craved, he did the opposite, removing his hand from you and moving to stand in between your legs, spreading your legs even further. “What are you-? Oh!” You gasped as Laszlo slowly pushed one of his fingers inside you, the intrusion foreign but not entirely unwelcome…
“And how does this feel? Still good?” He asked, adding a second finger and gently thrusting into you, the stretch causing you to wince slightly but you didn’t want him to stop. You let out your first moan as he rubbed your clit with his thumb in tandem with his thrusts. “I assume that was a yes, hm?”
“Y-Yeah…” You moaned, your hips moving against his hand mindlessly, starting to feel pleasure building and building inside you. “Feels so good, Laszlo…”
Laszlo lifted your chin with his other hand, forcing you to make eye contact with him. He wanted to see your face. He finally kissed you as he sped up his hand movements, swallowing your loud moans, a deep guttural groan escaping him as he felt your walls clench around his fingers. “You feel that pressure building in your body?” You nodded quickly, panting and moaning but you still tried to pay attention to what he was saying. “You’re getting close to what’s called an orgasm. It’s a feeling of euphoria when you reach the peak of sexual pleasure.”
“Are…are you getting close?” You stuttered.
Laszlo smiled, hiding a wince when his cock jumped in his pants. “I’m not the one getting pleasured, you are.” And as if right on cue, you felt yourself reach that peak and it was indescribable. Your body burned all over, but in a good way. You moaned loudly as you rode out that wave, gripping onto the doctor’s waistcoat for purchase. Your corset felt almost painful as your nipples hardened as you came, it felt all too restrictive. But you came down from that high, and you already wanted to feel it again. “Are you okay?” Laszlo’s soft deep voice brought you back to reality.
“Can…can you make me do that again?” You asked shyly, causing Laszlo to chuckle.
You winced as Laszlo lightly tapped your clit, the feeling almost too much to handle. “You’re too sensitive. Some people can’t come again right after because of the oversensitivity. But you might be ready to go again after several minutes.”
“But I want you to feel good too. I want you to…come.” You spoke timidly, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. He almost melted on the spot.
Laszlo frowned, shaking his head, trying to ignore his aching cock that was just crying out for stimulation. “I don’t want to hurt you. It might be too much, especially right now.”
“But I want you, Laszlo. I really do.” Laszlo didn’t say anything as you reached for the buttons on his pants, feeling guilty as he let you nervously palm his member through his trousers. “Please, I want you to be my first…”
Laszlo exhaled a shaky breath, grabbing your face and kissing you lightly with a frustrated growl. “First times for women can be painful…”
“I don’t care. I want you to show me what it’s like.” You begged, gently biting his bottom lip, doing everything in your power to let him know that you’d be okay.
Laszlo finally gave in, kissing you again with much more fervor, allowing himself to crave your touch. Your hands were all over him, messing up his perfectly styled hair and undoing the buttons of his waistcoat so you could feel more of him. You moaned as he squeezed your breasts through your dress, running his hands up and down your torso as you pulled his cock out of the confines of his pants. But he suddenly stopped, taking your hand away before speaking. “We’re going to take this slow, okay? If I hurt you, tell me and I’ll stop, okay?” He said seriously.
“Okay.”
Laszlo slowly rubbed the head of his cock in between your folds, you letting out small whines as he rubbed himself on your still overly sensitive clit. He looked into your eyes when he lined himself up with your entrance, silently asking for your approval. You nodded, holding onto his hand that was gripping your thigh.
His cock was much bigger than his fingers, that’s for sure. You let out a silent cry when he entered you, just his tip stretching you far more than his fingers. It was a burning pressure, but you still didn’t want him to stop. Despite the initial pain, it felt so natural for him to be inside you. You accepted him as best you could, him stilling inside you when he bottomed out. “Are you okay?” He asked, already panting from holding himself back.
“Yes, Laszlo, please. Keep going.” You and Laszlo both let out deep guttural groans as he started to thrust into you slowly, him keeping a firm grip on your thigh as he rocked his hips back and forth. Soon, you started to feel a new type of pleasure. It didn’t feel the same as when he was rubbing your clit, but whatever it was, it felt amazing. Every time Laszlo thrusted, the tip of his cock would hit that spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull. His slow thrusts weren’t enough now. You wanted more. You needed more. “Faster…please.” You whined, moving your own hips up to meet his.
“You sure?” It was sweet that he was always checking in, you appreciated it, but sweet wasn’t what you needed at that moment. You nodded vigorously, grabbing the collar of his shirt roughly and bringing him down to kiss you.
“Oh, my God-!” You gasped, moaning in his ear as he sped up his thrusts, his skin slapping against yours echoing around his office. “You feel so good.” You smiled tremulously, tears of overwhelming pleasure brimming your eyes. Laszlo’s grunting and soft moaning had to have been the prettiest sound you had ever heard, each others’ moans mixing together like a symphony.
“You’re exquisite, my dear.” Laszlo breathed out, moaning every time he felt you clench around him, your velvety walls taking him in deep and holding on with a vice grip. “You’re doing so well…fuck.” He cursed, his cock twitching as he sped up even more, chasing his own release desperately, your pretty moans spurring him on. “I’m so close.” He voiced, his words coming out strangled, his hand tightening around yours, bringing it up and placing a light kiss on your knuckles.
“Do it, come. Please, come.” You whimpered, crossing your legs behind his back, not allowing him to remove himself from you, pulling him as close as possible. His heavy breaths and soft moans fanned across your skin as he neared his climax, placing sloppy kisses on your cheek and down your neck, his neatly trimmed beard scratching at your skin. You cried out as Laszlo started to rub your clit once more, desperate to feel you come around his cock. “Please, please…” You whined, not even sure what you were asking for. His circular motions on your clit paired with his cock roughly splitting you open over and over again was almost too much, but you fully relinquished yourself to him, happy to be used by someone you admired so much.
“Come for me again, Schatz. I want to feel you, please.” Laszlo moaned, speeding up his ministrations on your clit.
“Laszlo!” You squealed, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you reached that peak once more, falling limp in his arms as you rode out your second orgasm.
“Oh, Scheiße!” Laszlo stilled as you clenched around him, letting out a loud strained grunt as he finally released inside of you, coating your walls with his cum. He buried his head in your shoulder, panting heavily along with you, trying to steady his heartbeat. “Are…are you okay?” He asked nervously as he pulled out of you and stuffed himself back into his trousers, looking into your eyes with concern. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No, no. You didn’t.” You shook your head, wearing a tired satisfied smile. “I really liked it.”
Laszlo let out a relieved sigh. “Good.” He said, wearing a lopsided grin, placing a short light kiss on the tip of your nose. He chuckled breathlessly, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting the day to turn out like this…but I’m glad it did.”
“Me too.” You smiled timidly, but then you remembered something. “So, um, why did you want to see me in the first place?” You asked.
Laszlo chuckled nervously, gently caressing your cheek while a slight blush. “Oh, I was, uh.” He cleared his throat, “With how well you’re doing, I was going to ask you to work for the Institute officially. Paid and everything. But now…I want to take you out on a date too, if you’d allow me.”
“Really?” You beamed.
“Really.”
“I’d love that. Both. Both of those things. To work here and go on a date with you.” You rambled with a giggle, making Laszlo smile.
“Great…I suppose we should get back to work now.” He said reluctantly, holding onto your hips like he never wanted to let you go.
“I promise, I won’t let you regret hiring me.”
“I don’t think you could make me regret anything, my dear.”
~~~~~~~~~~
back on my bullshit (aka, i'm obsessed with Daniel again). nobody talk to me.
#the alienist#laszlo kreizler#laszlo kreizler imagine#laszlo kreizler x reader#laszlo kreizler x fem!reader#laszlo kreizler smut#daniel brühl
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100% i would bend him over
#daniel bruhl#sub laszlo kreizler#laszlo kreizler#the alienist#laszlo kreizler smut#imsohornytoday#daniel bruhl x reader#laszlo kreizler x reader#zemo
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¡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
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Open House Masterlist
Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x fem!OC
Summary: Professor Laszlo Kreizler is a workaholic. Between teaching university courses, running the Kreizler Institute, and minding Stevie -his ward-, he does not have time for relationships. That is until he meets Ms. Greene, Stevie's English teacher, at open house. Can he open his heart to the possibility of love?
Rated: E for explicit language, sex, and more. Age gap warning.
Playlist (link here)
Taglist Form Fill out this form (link in green) if you would like to be tagged for this fic or any others! You can also leave me a comment, an ask, or a message!
Chapter One: Orientation
Chapter Two: First Day
Chapter Three: Emails
Chapter Four: Assigned Reading
Chapter Five: Parent Teacher Conferences
Chapter Six: Communication
Chapter Seven: Volunteers
Chapter Eight: Romeo & Juliet
Chapter Nine: Lunch
Chapter Ten: Rumors
Chapter Eleven: Group Project
Chapter Twelve: Finals
#the alienist laszlo#laszlo kreizler fanfic#laszlo kreizler smut#laszlo kreizler#the alienist fanfic#the alienist fanfiction#daniel brühl fanfic#daniel bruhl fanfiction
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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
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Just watched the movie ( next door ) by Daniel brühl.. and i- 😭😭
#Daniel bruhl#Daniel bruhl fanfics#Daniel bruhl smut#zemo#zemo imagine#zemo x reader#zemo smut#helmut zemo#laszlo kreizler#movies#Daniel waltz#Daniel waltz x reader#next door 2021
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Thank you @zsparz and @six-demon-bag for tagging me! ❤️
1. How many works do you have on ao3? Only 12, because I am a baby writer.
2. What's your total ao3 word count? 86k
3. What fandoms do you write for? Winterbaron, or more accurately, Zemo/everyone
4. Top five fics by kudos: Let's do a top 3, since top 5 would just be like half my fics.
Something Sweet to Eat (142 kudos)
Extremely underage Halloween fic, bunny boy Zemo shows up trick or treating at Bucky's house
Adopt, Don’t Shop (123 kudos)
Omegaverse, bratty teen Zemo is for sale at an Omega kennel and Alpha Bucky goes shopping
Gift-Wrapped (113 kudos)
This was the first fic I ever posted (just a few years ago) and I'm still pretty proud of it. Just a silly Winterbaron rimming PWP, but it's hot
5. Do you respond to comments? I try to, I always mean to, but I think I'm a bit behind right now. I know there are some amazing comments on Home to Me from last year that I still haven't replied to and I feel bad about it all the time.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably Under Lock and Key (what a mess we’ve made), the Heinrich/Helmut Zemo dadcest fic I wrote for @ex0rin where I followed her hurt/no comfort philosophy of leaving him on the floor crying.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I don't know if I really do happy endings? I have PWPs where the happy ending is they both come, if that counts. 😅 Let's say... Ink Kissed (with violent precision) where tattoo artist Bucky gives his client Zemo a dick tattoo, and Zemo ends up quite happy with the tattoo as well as the rest of the service.
8. Do you get hate on fics? I've only gotten one or two of the world's mildest hate comments. I guess my ships are sufficiently niche that no one cares about them.
9. Do you write smut? Yeah! Do I write anything other than smut? No.
10. Craziest crossover: I've only written one crossover, A Suitable Course of Treatment, Bucky Barnes/Laszlo Kreizler from The Alienist, which isn't crazy at all because as we all know, Laszlo has Zemo's face. (If it counts, I once started a Dir en grey x Sailormoon fic where the band members magically turned into Sailor Scouts, but I did not ever get far on it.)
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, the aforementioned Adopt, Don’t Shop was co-written with @violenciorp and @tales-from-a-maphia-don, because Vio lovingly bullied us into it, despite me and Mel ostensibly not being into Omegaverse.
14. All time favorite ship? I've jumped ship a lot over the years, but it's gotta be Winterbaron, since this is the ship that finally got me writing and posting and getting really involved in a fandom.
15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? The first serious attempt I made at writing in this fandom was this teen Zemo necrophilia thing, and I wrote the necro part but none of the plotty stuff leading up to it. I still dream of finishing it, in an abstract way where I have no motivation to ever work on it.
16. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm pretty good at rhythm and flow and making my prose sound musical? That's something I focus a lot on and I tend to read aloud while editing to make sure it sounds good to my ear.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? Probably plot and dialogue, and figuring out how to include technical details of things I know nothing about. But most of all procrastination, my arch-nemesis.
18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I personally avoid it, because I find it annoying to have to look up the translations in the middle of reading. I prefer to just say they're speaking in whatever language but write the dialogue in English.
19. First fandom you wrote in? J-rock RPF in the early 2000s, but I mostly just did a bit of RP and never got far with any fics I started.
20. Favorite fic you've written? Sometimes it feels like every new thing I post is my new favourite, haha. But I thiiiink my fave has been Something Sweet to Eat since I wrote it (the Halloween fic mentioned earlier), because it's probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written to date. I am truly the main audience for that fic and I'm very happy with it.
No pressure tagging: @violenciorp, @tales-from-a-maphia-don, @thepiper0fhameln, @ex0rin, @unlikelymilliner, @evenmyhivemindisempty, and anyone else who sees this and wants to join in!
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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
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖
ADHAKFHSKFJFL thank you so much bb i love doing these 💕
All of my works are 18+ MDNI. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
Ouroboros - Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x fem!reader
Smut. Fluff. Idiots in love. You're in denial about your crush on Eddie until he has to go on the run and crash at your place. Horny antics ensue.
Ceremony and Devotion - Khonshu & Moon Boys (Moon Knight) x fem!reader
Smut. Human/Deity relations. Khonshu fucks, send tweet.
Hotel Room Service - Adrian Chase (Peacemaker) x afab!reader
Smut. Fluff. Drunk Sex. Sharing a hotel room with Adrian just got a little bit complicated.
The Somnambulist - dark!Laszlo Kreizler (The Alienist) x fem!reader
Darkfic. Smut. Noncon. Horror Elements. What if Dr. Kreizler was actually a terrible human being and also committed grievous malpractice with a patient?
A Dangerous Line - Eros/Starfox (Marvel's Eternals) x fem!reader
Smut. Human/Deity relations (ish). Surprise! The myth of Eros and Psyche is mostly true, and you're about to find out just how much.
#asks#fanfic#fanfiction#adrian chase#peacemaker#adrian chase x reader#khonshu#moon knight#khonshu x reader#moon knight x reader#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#laszlo kreizler#laszlo kreizler x reader#the alienist#starfox#starfox x reader#harry styles x reader#eternals
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BRUHLSBEES OLD WORKS MASTERLISTS
a new and improved masterlist for all of my daniel bruhl, owen wilson, luke wilson, and murray bauman work. lately i've been on the cusp of getting back into a writing kick and a lot of my motivation for some of these pieces have gone right out the window (sorry to all my early followers). as much as i'd like to just delete these fics and move on i know some people do enjoy them so you'll find a lot of my early work either in the 'retired' section or in the 'early works' section. some retired pieces may be worked on in the future, but for now they'll remain in the void. thanks for understanding and hopefully i'll get more stuff out soon! :')
S MEANS SMUT
RETIREMENT HOME
garden of eden (alex kerner x reader) - click here
sweet disposition (alex kerner x reader) - click here
paradox burning (ernst schmidt x reader) - click here
to the end (niki lauda x reader) - click here
second chance (writer!daniel x reader) - click here
FINISHED PIECES
bubbles (helmut zemo x reader) - part one & two (s)
five more minutes (helmut zemo x reader) - click here
it was real enough (helmut zemo x heike zemo) - click here
the haunting of heike zemo (helmut zemo x heike zemo) - click here
behind the mask (helmut zemo x reader) - click here (s)
i'm going in tonight (alex kerner x reader) - click here (s)
opposites attract (alex kerner x reader) - click here
baby paula (alex kerner x reader) - click here
at the cabin (alex kerner x reader - click here
dancing in the rain (alex kerner x reader) - click here
sapphire strings (andrea marowski x reader) - click here
modern!flatmate! andrea x reader headcannons - nsfw version & sfw version
broken wing (dr. laszlo kreizler x reader) - click here
bloodlust (vampire! laszlo kreizler x reader) - click here
kachow (niki lauda x reader) - click here (s)
good luck charm (niki lauda x reader) - click here (s)
jackpot (dark!daniel x reader) - click here (s)
tom foolery (clowniel x reader) - part one & two (s)
the first time (ernst schmidt x reader) - click here (s)
welcome home (chris burnett x reader) - click here
better man (ken hutchinson x reader) - click here (s)
the last night (anthony adams x reader) - click here
knock three times (murray bauman x reader) - click here (s)
murray bauman nsfw alphabet - part one & two (s)
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for the smut ask 🫶 7, 15, 18
7: If you write non-smutty fic as well, how does it interrelate with your smut fic?
There’s a definite continuity but mostly with stuff that’s an enduring headcanon or part of how I see a particular character. (Hickey’s got a single mom who he valorizes no matter the setting, basically.)
15: Do you have favorite words, phrases, or imagery to use in smut?
Ooooo boy... descriptions of things as "slick" and "wet", descriptions of pressure and places of physical contact between bodies, lots of weird descriptions of big hands. I'm honestly at the point where I need to work on shaking up what appears in my smutfic as a sexy detail, not everybody can be horned up for huffing perfume and stomping on balls.
18: What’s the weirdest thing you have researched for the sake of a smut fic?
Specific historical dosage rates of now-defunct medications and their methods of administration, for my turbo angsty John Moore/Laszlo Kreizler drug-facilitated rape recovery psychological edgeplay healing cock magnum opus "The Artificial Fire".
#ask memes#sorry it’s taking me so long to answer these tumblr still won’t let me see asks on desktop!
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Intercourse
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/YIy1Qak
by Anonymous
In 1943, former prisoner of war James “Bucky” Barnes is ordered to meet with a therapist, Doctor Laszlo Kreizler, to discuss his experiences with HYDRA and his reinstatement into military service.
Those intimate sessions yield results that neither patient nor therapist could have anticipated.
Words: 3524, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: Captain America (Movies), The Alienist (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Laszlo Kreizler, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Laszlo Kreizler, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Additional Tags: World War II, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, 1940s, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Goes to Therapy, Dialogue Heavy, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Period-Typical Homophobia, Jealousy, Howling Commandos - Freeform, Some Stucky but Laszlo/Bucky is endgame, In fact if you are a big fan of steve… this may not be the fic for you, Captain America Steve Rogers, Therapy, Internalized Homophobia, Crossover, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/YIy1Qak
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drabble requests?? yes please
Laszlo Kreizler crushing on a librarian and being a subby dork-
He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting would happen when he developed an interest in the volunteer librarian at the University— really, he wasn't expecting anything. He definitely wasn't expecting this.
"Please," he whispered hoarsely, head falling back against the shelves. You smiled at him lasciviously, the look in your eyes reminding him that anyone could turn the corner at any moment and catch him like this... with your hand rubbing against the bulge in his trousers.
"Shh," you soothed, and your palm brushed up against the ridge of his head; his eyes rolled back. He didn't know it could feel like this...
"Please, please—" he choked, not sure what he was begging for anymore. At some point he'd been begging you to stop before someone caught you... now, his mind was cloudy and his body on edge and he just needed to feel good. You made him feel so good, such a primal response that he was too desperate to be ashamed by.
"It's alright, Laszlo," you encouraged gently, leaning in and speaking under your breath. You looked so lovely— he'd been busy watching you from afar all this time, he wondered if you could be as beautiful up close, and you were. You were beautiful, and terrifying; he knew he deserved his punishment after being caught spying on you, but his knees were weak as you spoke. "What were you watching me for?" you asked him in a purr.
"I... I don't know," he stammered.
"Yes you do," you grinned. "Don't lie— be a good boy and just tell me."
He bit back a moan, shutting his eyes tightly; he couldn't look at you while he said this. "I was watching you because I was waiting... to ask you to dinner..."
"Oh, dinner," you repeated. "Is that what you wanted? Dinner? Or did you want this?"
Biting his lip wasn't enough to keep his mouth shut when you ran your thumb over his entire length through his pants. "Both," he choked, "I wanted both— please, just let me—"
"You want to finish?" you noticed. "Right here? In your pants, in my library, where someone could see or hear? Oh, you're not a very good boy after all... you're naughty, hm?"
"Ohh—" he breathed, not even noticing that his hips were rocking against your hand now, "yes— I am."
"Spying on me, getting hard— you're a bit of a pervert, aren't you?"
"Yes," he agreed again.
"But you wanna be a good boy? For me?" you pressed.
"Yes!" he blurted out, a little too loud. "Yes, I'll be good, just please, please let me—"
"Come," you ordered, and he stuttered out a groan as his cock flexed and warmth filled his trousers... if it weren't for the overwhelming pleasure, he'd have the energy to feel the humiliation. "Good," you cooed, "good boy, Laszlo."
"Oh, fuck," he swore, something he usually didn't do. Then again, he didn't usually do any of this...
You smiled and stepped back as he finished, and the loss of your perfect touch made him blink his eyes open. It really hit him then, that you'd just caught him watching you and rubbed his cock and made him come in the middle of the library. "I hope you found what you're looking for," you announced, "let me know if you need anything else, okay?"
You turned and began to walk away like nothing had happened, and he watched you in shock, awe, and fading ecstasy.
"Laszlo," you said as you looked over your shoulder at him, just about to leave the row of shelves and return to your desk.
"Y-yes?" he stammered.
"Clean yourself up," you instructed, smiling, before you disappeared around the corner.
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Daniel Bruhl (+Characters)
Please note that none of these works are written by me and all credits are returned to their respective owners. I’m just here to provide a list of fics that i personally love so that you guys can enjoy too!
Updated: 27/4/2022
Legend:
🦋One-shots/Imagine/Headcanon
🌼 Completed Series
❄️ Uncompleted Series
Daniel Bruhl
🦋 Black Lotus by @mypoisonedvine Hacker!Daniel
a malicious hacker has taken ctrl control of your laptop and wants you to do some very specific things to get it back
🦋 Tom Foolery by @bruhlsbees Clown!Daniel
the one where reader fucks a party clown
🦋 Something Just Like This by @wayward-mikaelson
your father takes on a business partner, who captures your eye and makes your ex jealous.
Laszlo Kreizler
🦋 A Slow Game by @noforkingclue Dark!Laszlo
You were his maid, just his maid, nothing special. At least, that’s what you saw yourself as. If you had known his plans for you maybe you would’ve thought twice before entering the lions den.
🦋 Broken Wing by @bruhlsbees
laszlo catches reader attempting to play the piano
🦋 Courting the Occult by @eli-the-thinker Vampire!Laszlo
People had tried to warn you against getting involved with him, society told tales of occult, blood drinking monsters who loved nothing more than to feed on young beautiful women. Many of your acquaintances claimed that he was one of them intent on keeping you as a source of life blood and pleasure. They may have been right, but either way, you couldn’t care less.
🦋 Mourning by @noforkingclue Dark!Laszlo
Laszlo pursuing a recent widow
🦋 Set a Foul to Catch a Foul by @rosemaremembrance
After having an erotic dream about Doctor Kreizler, you are entirely unable to get him off your mind. Much to his pleasure.
🦋 The Somnambulist by @rosemaremembrance
Doctor Kreizler takes a particular interest in your habit of sleepwalking, and elects to use hypnosis as a means of controlling your symptoms.
🌼 My Body is a Cage by @mypoisonedvine
working with Dr. Kreizler and his rag-tag team of investigators began mainly as a favor to John, your closest friend from childhood, but emotions complicated things (as they tend to) when you developed an interest in the enigmatic alienist. emotions, like instincts, are natural and hard to avoid. Dr. Kreizler tries to anyway, an alpha so suppressed he’s often confused for a beta. but you never made that mistake; no, your mistake was falling for him
Father Padre Antonio
🦋 Poor Unfortunate Soul by @rosemaremembrance
A priest walks into a bar. How does the rest of the joke go, again?
🦋Salvation In Destruction by @ultraintrovertedgryffindor
❄️ Confession by @norabrice1701
You’ve harbored a crush on your church’s priest for years, and after your first year away at university…well, don’t they say confession is good for the soul?
#daniel bruhl#daniel bruhl x reader#laszlo kreizler#laszlo kreizler x reader#the alienist#father antonio#father antonio x reader#dark!laszlo kreizler#dark!daniel bruhl#intruder#daniel bruhl x you#daniel bruhl smut#laszlo kreizler smut
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Word count: 5.8k
Warnings: period typical sexism, controlling parents, vampirism, blood drinking, explicit sex
People had tried to warn you against getting involved with him, society told tales of occult, blood drinking monsters who loved nothing more than to feed on young beautiful women. Many of your acquaintances claimed that he was one of them intent on keeping you as a source of life blood and pleasure.
They may have been right, but either way, you couldn’t care less.
~~~~
Dr. Kreizler’s hand was cold to the touch when you shook it during your introduction, but you thought nothing of it, as it was a bitterly cold New Year’s Eve. Theodore is the one that introduced you two, your family was long time friends of the Roosevelt family so you were always present at these sorts of events.
Naturally you were aware of Kreizler, it was almost impossible to be a member of New York high society and not have heard of the infamous Laszlo Kreizler, the harsh spoken alienist who was said to be able to read your very thoughts. Many people you know have claimed to meet him at one point or another, citing how small he could make a person feel with just his gaze. You didn’t feel any of those things in that moment though, you just felt drawn to him, like a bolt drawn ever closer to a magnet.
You spent the night by his side, sharing quick witted conversation and a dance or two. When the clock struck midnight and the year 1897 began, he took your hand in his and left a soft kiss on your knuckles. His dark eyes never left yours throughout the intimate gesture, his cold hand cooling your overly warm one; you were hooked and so was he.
~~~~
The next time you saw him was purely by coincidence during a dinner and Delmonico’s where your father was attempting to secure you a husband. In your opinion, this practice of marriage for the sake of status was demeaning and outdated. Not to mention that the man your father wished for you to marry was extremely dull, so who were you to blame if your attention wandered? Especially after the familiar figure of Dr. Laszlo Kreizler walked into the dining room wearing perfectly tailored evening clothes.
He caught you staring almost immediately as if he had felt it, you held his gaze though, something inside you deciding to be bold. He gave you a small smile and tilted his head towards the others at your table, you returned his smile and gave him a slight eye roll as you turned back to whatever was being discussed.
You managed to keep up with your group’s conversation throughout the rest of the night while still making occasional eye contact with Laszlo over your father’s shoulder. It was almost as if the two of you were having a conversation of your own, one that Laszlo was eager to continue when your two parties were waiting for hansoms in front of the restaurant. You watched as Laszlo’s companion boarded a hansom, leaving the doctor free to make his way over to greet you officially.
“Good evening,” Laszlo said, not only to you, but to your parents as well, having seen and understood exactly what the purpose of tonight’s dinner was.
“Good evening Dr. Kreizler,” you responded politely, turning to introduce him to your parents.
Laszlo shook your father’s hand, silently relishing the slightly shocked look on your mother’s face as she realized who exactly was speaking with them. Your mother was one of those society women who liked to gossip that Dr. Kreizler could read thoughts like some occult monster. Your father on the other hand thought he was a brilliant man, having read some of his work and heard stories from Theodore.
After a few minutes of small talk, Laszlo’s carriage pulled up to the curb and a young boy jumped down from the driver’s seat.
“Headed home Doctor?” the boy asked.
“Yes Stevie, your work for tonight is almost done,” Laszlo teased before turning back to you and your family. “I’m afraid this is where I take my leave, it was lovely speaking with you, I would very much enjoy the opportunity to dine with you in the future.”
Though he was speaking most directly to your father, you had an inkling that he was talking to you; whether that was because of the pull you felt towards the doctor or the sly smile he sent your way you couldn’t say.
~~~~~
Your father was keen to take Dr. Kreizler up on his offer of dining together, much to your mother’s annoyance. You on the other hand were thrilled that you got to spend more time with the man you had so quickly become enthralled with.
Soon enough, you and your family were sitting with the man in question in the dining room of Delmonico’s. You were situated directly across the table from Kreizler, giving you the perfect opportunity to keep your attention and gaze directed at him. You had no doubt that he noticed you staring at him as he conversed with your father about the matters of the mind that he had spent so many years studying. Your father was hanging on every word the doctor said, and unbeknownst to you was already planning out how to ask Dr. Kreizler if he would be interested in courting you.
As your party left the restaurant, your father lagged behind you and your mother in order to get a moment alone with Dr. Kreizler to pose the question of your courtship.
“Dr. Kreizler,” your father began when you and your mother were out of ear shot. “You and my daughter obviously hold respect and admiration for each other, and I must admit I hold you in high regard myself. Given all of this information, I would like to offer my daughter’s courtship if you would be interested.”
Dr. Kreizler did well to hide his triumph at the proposition, the quest for your father’s permission to court you had been on his mind well before he asked your family to dine with him.
“I would love nothing more than that,” he replied sincerely. “Though naturally I will not force her to do this if she does not wish to, I would very much prefer to ask her myself.”
“I see nothing wrong with that,” your father agrees.
“May I speak with you for a moment?” Dr. Kreizler asked as you stepped outside the restaurant, coincidentally in the same spot that you two conversed the last time the two of you were here together.
“Of course,” you said, following him a few steps away from your parents. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, you have nothing to worry about,” he assured, reaching to grasp your hand in his. “I have spoken to your father and gained his blessing to court you if you so wish.”
You were stunned for a moment, not knowing if this was indeed real life. The man you had been enchanted by at your first introduction, the man you couldn’t get out of your head since the first time you laid eyes on him was asking to court you.
“I know it seems a bit quick as we have only known each other for a short time but I will not deny my attraction to you, but if you do not wish to do this, I will not force you,” he rambled before you cut him by squeezing the cold hand that held yours.
“Yes,” you all but whispered. “Yes Dr. Kreizler, yes.”
“Good,” he chuckled with an almost shy smile. “Then we will have to do away with titles, I hope you are comfortable calling me by my name instead.”
“Yes,” you said again, this time more confidently. “Laszlo, I would love to court you.”
~~~~
Your mother was aghast when she found out you had accepted Laszlo’s offer of courtship, claiming once again that he was somehow influencing you to say yes. You overheard her gossiping to your aunties over tea, telling them that he had charmed your father into giving his blessing. You had to stop yourself from laughing when your Aunt Millie said he was going to whisk you away to marry you and never allow you out again. Even months into your courtship you would catch your mother whispering snide comments to friends and relatives at every opportunity.
In truth, Laszlo was lovely, he took you to evenings at the opera and the ballet, walks through the Metropolitan and when the weather turned warm enough, walks in the park and lunch at the teahouse. Your family hosted dinners, and had even invited him to the annual Independence Day party, somehow it didn’t occur to you that you had never been to his home.
If that fact had occurred to you, you may have questioned him about it. You may have questioned him about a lot of things if you had realized them earlier. Why his hands were always so cold, why even in the rare moments that you managed to fluster him, there was never any blush to his cheeks. Why indeed was it so easy for him to charm your father so quickly, why you seemed to yearn for his presence when he wasn’t around. You’d find out soon, just how intensely correct your mother had been when she gossiped about him being some occult monster. You’d also find out soon enough just how much you didn’t care.
~~~~
“Would you like to come to dinner tonight?” Laszlo blurted on one of your walks.
“I would love to,” you agreed. “Delmonico’s?”
“No,” he corrects, with a shy little laugh. “I’d like to host for once.”
“Really?” you asked with a smile of your own.
“Yes, there is something I would like to ask you,” he admitted. Laszlo’s statement caused you to stop in your tracks.
“You could just ask me now,” you teased, trying to get him to reveal something.
“As much as I would like to, this is something I would much rather talk to you about in a private setting,” Laszlo urged. His tone was light, like the topic of conversation was nothing for you to worry about, but his body language said otherwise. He held his right hand in his left, keeping his gaze downcast in spite of your attempts to make eye contact.
“Laszlo you’re scaring me,” you warned.
“Nothing to be afraid of liebling,” he soothed, dropping his right hand back into his pocket and cradling your cheek with his left, finally meeting your eyes again. “It’s just my own anxieties.”
“Promise?” you prompted.
“Of course,” Laszlo ensured. “I am simply unpracticed in vulnerability.”
“I would point out the irony of that statement, but I’m sure you are fully aware,” you joked, not entirely convinced that all was truly well.
Later that evening, Laszlo sent Stevie in the calash to pick you up. You had spent the entire afternoon after your walk preparing for your evening, trying on almost every dress you own in an attempt to find one that would not only be appropriate for an evening in, but dressed up enough to make an impression. It’s not like you needed to try, you had been courting long enough that he had seen you fully dressed up for parties and nights at the opera, but you wanted to look your best.
Even as Stevie pulled the carriage to a halt, nerves stirred in your gut. The boy hopped down and offered you a hand as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the night breeze giving you a slight chill as you walked towards the front door.
“The doctor said you can just head right in,” Stevie called as he climbed back into the driver’s seat to bring the horse and calash to the stable.
“Thank you Stevie,” you called back.
You could see warm light through the window in the front door, you could imagine him wearing one of his many emerald green waistcoats that hugged his soft stomach. Maybe he had forgone a jacket, maybe he even had his sleeves rolled up. Despite Stevie telling you to head right in, you still knocked before opening the front door.
“Laszlo, I’m here,” you called into the house. “Stevie told me I could come in.”
“Yes, please, come in,” Laszlo called back. “I’ll be right there.”
“Alright,” you said, mostly to yourself as you stepped into the parlor. You let your eyes wander around the room as you took in his home for the first time. There was a grand piano by the front window with a collection of music sitting on the stand, books lined the built-in shelves, some titles and authors you recognized and some you didn’t. There was a small fire going in the hearth in order to drive away the autumn evening chill. A phonograph sat nearby the fireplace, the stack of recordings on the shelf next to it making it apparent that it was used often.
“Welcome,” Laszlo greeted from behind you. You were slightly ashamed to admit that he had made you jump. “Apologies liebling, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Oh, it’s alright, I wasn’t paying attention,” you dismissed. You took a moment to take him in, you were right about him wearing one of his signature green waistcoats, no jacket, just as you had hoped for. This was the most casual you had ever seen him, but he was still possibly the most beautiful man you had ever seen.
“Dinner will be served soon, would you like to sit?” he offered.
“To be honest Las, I’d just like to know what question was so pressing to you,” you admitted. “It’s been on my mind all afternoon.”
“Will you not allow me to romance you first?” he joked, reaching out to take your hand. His was cold as usual, but you barely noticed despite the warmth of the room.
“Laszlo,” you chided lightly. “You can romance me after.”
“We should sit,” Laszlo insisted. “There are some things I wish to tell you.”
“You’re scaring me again,” you warned as he led you to one of the plush sofas.
“I know liebling, but I promise everything will be alright,” he soothed. “First of all, I’d like to tell you that I love you very much and from the first moment I saw you I knew I wanted to be with you.”
You felt your heart soar at his words, but his body language yet again did little to calm your nerves.
“I do hope you feel the same about me, and I would very much like to marry you, but there are a few things about me that you should know before you make up your mind.”
It felt like all the air had been driven from your lungs and you felt yourself start to tremble.
“I have no doubt you have heard the rumors about me, saying that I am something other than human. They are not entirely incorrect.”
You felt frozen, sure that the pounding in your ears was your heartbeat. You could hear Laszlo’s housekeeper placing the dinner on the table in the dining room behind you, the tension in the parlor preventing her from interrupting.
“I would never hurt you, I love you very much. If you wish to leave, I understand and I will respect your decision.”
Your eyes were brimmed with tears as your mind raced. Laszlo had just asked to marry you, and in the same breath admitted to being what your mother gossiped about.
“Was my mother right about you?” you asked in a shaky voice. “Are you some bloodthirsty monster that preys on womens’ desires?”
“No liebling,” Laszlo denied.
“Then explain,” you demanded, fighting the urge to pull your hand out of his grasp. “What are you?”
“I am what most people refer to as a vampire,” he began.
“Like Carmilla?” you said with an incredulous chuckle.
“If it helps you understand, then yes,” he laughed.
“Don’t vampires burn up in the sun?” you asked, that being the first question to come to your mind.
“No, that is purely fiction,” he explained. “Would you like to move this conversation to the dining room so we can eat before our dinner gets cold?”
You could tell that he was attempting to diffuse some of the tension that had crept into the atmosphere, but you nodded anyway and let him lead you to the dining room. The table was intimately set, with a place at the head of the table for him and a place directly to his left for you, candles placed in the center of the table gave the room a romantic atmosphere.
“I can tell you have more questions liebling,” Laszlo prompted as he poured wine for the both of you. “Do not be afraid to ask, you won’t offend me.”
“Well,” you hummed, taking a sip of wine while you collected your thoughts. “You can obviously eat normal food, but don’t you still need to…”
“Consume blood?” Laszlo finished for you. “Yes.”
“Where do you- How- You don’t hurt people do you?” you stammered.
“No, I do not hurt people,” he promised, taking a moment to appreciate your kind heart. “Believe it or not there are people willing to let creatures like me…”
“Feed?” you offered.
“Yes,” he affirmed.
“I believe it,” you said, just above a whisper.
Laszlo lifted his gaze to meet yours only to find you staring down at your plate with an intense blush on your face. He could hear your little heart pounding in your ribcage, he was finding it dreadfully distracting. At his silence, you glanced up at him to find him staring at you with an unreadable expression.
“Las?” you questioned.
“Apologies my dear, I was expecting a different reaction,” he explained.
“Understandable,” you agreed. “I imagine people would be quite fearful when they find out about something like this.”
“And yet, you seem to have adjusted to the knowledge quite quickly,” Laszlo observed.
He was right and you knew it, it felt as though deep down, a little part of you had believed the rumors your mother and aunties loved to spread. Perhaps you were scared, maybe that was the feeling stirring in your gut, or maybe it was something else entirely. But you didn’t care, you loved him.
“Yes,” you confirmed. “I think part of me suspected something even though I didn’t know what.”
“Your unconscious mind was aware of something even though your conscious mind wasn’t,” he explained in what you call his Dr. Kreizler voice. You couldn’t help but giggle at his change of tone, your reaction causing Laszlo’s eyebrows to furrow. “Did I say something funny?”
“No darling,” you said with another small giggle. “Your tone tends to change when you speak about matters of the mind.”
Laszlo let out a chuckle of his own at your comment, the outer corner of his eyes crinkling with his smile. You loved it when he laughed; he was usually such a stoic person, so on the occasions that he did laugh, you felt your heart do somersaults.
“Laszlo?” you said in a more serious tone.
“Yes dear one?” he responded, his beloved smile dropping from his face.
“How did you become a vampire?” you asked, with trepidation in your voice.
“An unfortunate encounter during one of my interviews with inmates, the man attacked me as soon as the guard left us alone. I can only assume he hadn’t fed in months and so took the opportunity I presented him with,” Laszlo told you. “Luckily however, the guard was close enough to hear me and intervene before I was killed.”
You were expecting a horrifying story, but still his words caused you to gasp.
“Because he did not drain me, nor did he have the chance to seal the wound he gave me, his venom entered my bloodstream and triggered my transformation,” he finished.
“When did this happen?” you asked. “Does anyone else know, I mean, other than the people who let you feed?”
“Only about 4 years ago,” he answered. “And yes, a few people. Naturally Cyrus and Stevie as they are the people who helped me to survive the transformation and told me about how to find people willing to donate their blood. John Moore found out by accident when purely by coincidence, the person I fed from worked out of the same establishment that John was visiting for a different vice.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the odds of running into someone you knew at one of hundreds of brothels in New York City were slim, but if the person you saw was John Moore, then the odds were slightly better.
“Sara Howard knows as well,” Laszlo added with a fond smile. “Though she figured it out through detective work and when she was sure, confronted me in my office at the institute.”
“Does Theodore know?” you questioned.
“No, I doubt he would have introduced us if he had,” he said.
“I don’t think he would handle the knowledge very well,” you mused.
“Neither do I,” Laszlo agreed.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you allowed all the new information to sink in, the tension from earlier had almost completely disappeared. Taking a sip from your forgotten wine, you remembered something from Laszlo’s original admission.
“Were you serious about wanting to marry me?” you asked, returning your attention to the man next to you.
“Yes, entirely,” Laszlo confirmed. “If you’ll have me, I would very much like to be your husband.”
“And I would very much like to be your wife,” you replied, tears welling in your eyes for the second time tonight, though this time was for a very different reason.
Laszlo’s face lit up brighter than the morning sun as he stood, took your hand and pulled you up and into a bone crushing hug. You reciprocated instantly, wrapping your arms around his waist and nuzzling your face into his neck.
It was as if Laszlo’s heart had started to beat again when you accepted his proposal, his senses going wild when you returned his hug. He was surrounded by your scent, he could feel and hear your heart hammering, the heat from your body seeping into his.
“I love you meine schatz,” Laszlo whispered into your ear.
His words and proximity sent a shiver down your spine and something told you that the feeling you had stirring in your gut wasn’t fear at all, but instead something closer to desire.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, hoping that Laszlo had missed the way you reacted to his words, but knowing he probably hadn’t. Your suspicion was confirmed when he pulled back, the look in his eyes almost lustful as his hand came up to cradle your face.
“Can I kiss you Schatz?” he asked politely.
You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay even. You closed your eyes as he leaned forward, his soft lips meeting yours and setting off sparks behind your eyes. This was the first time you had ever kissed anyone, and all too soon it was over. Laszlo was smiling down at you when you opened your eyes, his pupils blown wide as he gazed into yours.
“Can we do that again?” you asked breathlessly.
Instead of responding with words, Laszlo leaned forward once again to place his lips on yours, the kiss was deeper this time as you let him guide you. His beard scratched lightly against your chin, his mustache tickled your top lip, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care, lost completely in the feeling of his mouth on yours. You let out a content sigh, and Laszlo took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
Again, you felt Laszlo start to pull away, though this time you tried in vain to follow, not ready to let this feeling go. He didn’t go far though, just far enough to look into your eyes.
“Would it be improper for me to ask you to take me to bed?” you asked timidly.
“Yes, but when have I ever cared much for propriety?” Laszlo teased. “Are you sure you want to though, I would hate for you to think we had to just because we kissed.”
“I’m sure Las,” you insisted. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it on more than a few occasions.”
“Naughty girl,” Laszlo mirthlessly scolded before leaning down to kiss you again. This one only lasted a moment or two until he pulled back to lead you out of the dining room and up the stairs, he could hear your heart pounding faster as you neared his bedroom. As soon as the door was closed behind you, Laszlo reached up to undo the buttons on the front of your dress, making quick work of them even though he only had use of one of his hands. In turn, you began to undo the buttons on Laszlo’s waistcoat and shirt, only pausing to let your dress slide off and to the floor. Slipping one hand under his shirt, you used the other to push his suspenders off his shoulders, his skin was cold to the touch, but remarkably soft.
“You’re cold,” you pointed out.
“That tends to happen when you don’t have blood of your own,” he joked.
The touch of his cold hand on your shoulder made you jump, Laszlo only chuckled as he leaned down to kiss along your jawline. He nipped softly at the skin of your neck as he reached around you to untie the laces of your corset, his hand frantically loosening the strings in his desperation to feel your warm skin. When that too was loose enough, Laszlo gave it a tug resulting in your corset falling to the floor.
You were struck then with the intimacy of your current state, you standing there in your under clothes, Laszlo’s shirt undone and untucked. Only when the back of your knees bumped into the edge of the bed did you realize he had been walking you backwards while he ravished your neck with kisses. He took his time undressing you the rest of the way, kissing you wherever he could.
“You’re so warm,” Laszlo almost moaned. “I fear I may become addicted.”
“I’d be alright with that,” you respond, your voice coming out breathy and soft.
You felt him smile against your skin as he left one more kiss on your neck before stepping back. His gaze was dark and almost predatory as he let his eyes wander your naked body for the first time, his staring making you blush all the way from the tips of your ears down to your chest, your confidence from earlier had almost completely disappeared.
“Laszlo,” you breathed. “Touch me, please.”
“Of course dear one,” he promised with a grin, it may have been your imagination, but you could have sworn you caught a glimpse of fangs behind his lips.
Laszlo’s touch made you shiver as he ghosted his fingertips against your shoulders and down your chest, you couldn’t help but let out a moan when he teasingly pinched your nipple.
“Las,” you whispered with your moan. “Please.”
“What’s wrong liebling?” he prompted with a light mocking tone. “I thought you wanted me to touch you, is that not what I’m doing?”
“Please don’t tease me,” you begged, leaning into his touch.
“Be good and I’ll give you exactly what you need,” he promised. “Tell me what you want.”
“I- I want, I need you,” you stammered. “Please, I’ll be good.”
“I know liebling, you’re just so cute when you beg, I can’t help myself,” Laszlo confessed, finally trailing his hand down your waist, his fingers delving between the folds of your cunt. You couldn’t help the needy whimper that escaped your throat as he circled your clit with a feather-like touch. “Have you ever touched yourself here before?”
You shook your head at his question, embarrassment flooding through you.
“Then allow me to show you the pleasures available to you.” His voice was dripping with honey as he laid you down on the bed, he seemed huge as he hovered over you.
“Please,” you begged again, you were growing desperate at this point. You watched as he rose from the bed just long enough to rid himself of his trousers and underclothes before coming back to kneel between your spread legs. Your moans flowed freely as his fingers circled your clit again, his weaker hand resting on your hip keeping you grounded as your fiance pleasured you. Slowly, he pushed his fingers against your entrance causing your hips to buck into his hand. Laszlo chuckled quietly before pushing inside, his cold fingers filling you was like nothing you could have ever imagined.
“You’re so warm, liebling,” Laszlo praised, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”
“I want it,” you keened. “Please.”
“Soon, dear one,” Laszlo whispered. “Soon.”
You opened your mouth to beg again, but all that came out were moans. His thumb was rubbing quick, tight circles on your clit as he pumped his fingers in and out. There was a hot sensation growing in your core, getting stronger the more he moved, you didn’t know what it was, but you knew you wanted more.
“Cum for me liebling,” Laszlo instructed, he made it clear that this was not a request as his fingers sped up.
It felt like something inside of you snapped and it felt like the heat that had been growing inside you was doused with ice water. A rush of pleasure tore through your body, your back arching off the bed and a cry left your lips.
“Enchanting,” Laszlo mused as he watched you come down from your intense high. “Would you still like me to continue?”
“Yes,” you urged, eyes popping open to meet his gaze. “Please Laszlo, I need it.”
“Well then,” he teased. “I suppose you’ve earned it.”
All you could do was whine as he pulled his fingers from your heat. You didn’t have to wait long for relief though, as he quickly notched his cock at your entrance. As he pushed into you, he leaned forward to brace himself on his elbow which he placed next to your head. You cried out again as he bottomed out.
“Laszlo,” you whined, you had never felt more full.
“I know dear one,” he soothed. “Breathe for me.”
You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath, sucking air back into your lungs you felt the blood rush to your head making you feel like you were floating. You clung desperately to his shoulders as he slowly began to move, your nails digging into his cool, soft skin. He dropped his head to rest his forehead in the crook of your neck, laying gentle kisses along your jawline.
“You feel like heaven liebling,” Laszlo moaned, his voice raspy and lustful. “You’re doing so well, such a good girl.”
You moaned in response, his words and his cock making coherent thought almost impossible. The sound of your moans mingled with his praises and sounds of skin on skin as he built up his pace until he was properly fucking you into the mattress. It wasn’t long until you felt another orgasm incoming.
“La-ah, Laszlo, I’m gonna cum,” you warned, your voice coming out more whiny than you would have liked.
“So am I,” he answered, leaning down to kiss you. Your lips felt like fire on his, the feeling sending him over the edge.
His moans were music to your ears, the feeling of his cock twitching inside you spurred your own orgasm. Lights danced behind your eyes as you came down from your high, your breath mixing with Laszlo’s between kisses and worn out moans, he let himself drop softly, his arm no longer able to hold him up.
If someone asked you how long you spent like that, his weight acting as a comforting blanket, his face pressed into your neck, you couldn’t have told them. He pressed soft, lazy kisses to your skin as you rubbed your hands up and down his back. The thing that snapped you out of your blissful haze was the feeling of Laszlo’s sharp teeth dragging lightly on your skin. You couldn’t help the little gasp you let out.
“I’m sorry,” Laszlo apologized, rushing to pull away from you. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No,” you begged, holding tight to his shoulders. “I’m not scared, you just startled me is all… I, I wouldn’t mind, if you…”
“Liebling, I couldn’t ask you for that,” he tried to deny.
“You’re not,” you promised. “I’m asking you for it, that way, you wouldn’t have to go to those establishments anymore.”
There were very few things that could strike Laszlo Kreizler as speechless, and hearing this desire of yours surely was one.
“I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” Laszlo said, doing absolutely nothing to convince you otherwise.
“I’ll let you know if it’s too much, but I trust you, and I want to try, to know what it’s like,” you urged.
“There’s no convincing you, is there?” he teased, chuckling at the quick shake of your head. “Alright dear one, just let me clean up our little mess first, ok?”
“Ok,” you agreed, letting go of him so he could stand up. You watched as he went to retrieve a damp washcloth from the bathroom across the hall, a smile on his lips when he returned to see you laying fucked out in his bed. His touch was feather light on your skin, as he cleaned away the mess from between your thighs.
“Ready?” Laszlo asked, setting the cloth on his bedside table.
“Yes,” you reassured, climbing into his lap when he beckoned you closer. “Will it hurt?”
“Only for a moment,” he explained as he brushed the stray hairs away from your neck. “I promise I’ll take care of you, the pain will only last a second or two and after that it should give you pleasure. When I’m done, I’ll make sure it’s healed.”
You listened intently while he explained everything, trying to suppress the smile at his ‘Dr. Kreizler voice’.
“Yes, Dr. Kreizler,” you teased when he finished, your smile coming to the surface.
“Ready?” he asked with a small smirk of his own.
You just nodded, the gravity of your position beginning to sink in.
He leaned forward slowly, pressed a sweet little kiss to your throat, and sunk his teeth in. You yelped in pain before relaxing into his embrace as a euphoric feeling took over you. The feeling of your blood being sucked from your veins should have made you uncomfortable, it should have terrified you, it should have made you feel a whole multitude of things, but it didn’t. You trusted him, Laszlo would never hurt you. Never.
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