#laszlo kreizler headcanons | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rumblelibrary · 3 years

Note

I need a very loving Laszlo smut, either top or switch with him, take it any direction you want, any build up, any kinks. But I just... my soul needs this V I need to see this man happy and satisfied

Coming Back Home [Dr Laszlo Kreizler x Wife!Reader]

Word count: 3k

Warnings: SMUT (fingering, mild victorian dirty talk)

Author’s note: I am weak to see this man happy, my mind went a bit overboard, but I just couldn't hold it back, to see him happy and fulfilled in all his means, professional and private. Thank you so much for feeding my obsession and being my supporter @cazzyimagines <3

The cold air hit him as a welcome back in the moment he exited the carriage, he was back in New York after six months of study and hard work in Wien, he hated and loved it: he learned a lot and got the chance to talk with some of the best alienists in the field granting himself some valuable resources and upcoming publications, the city was amazing and romantic. But all day, every day, he was with his mind on the life he left here, on you and your baby boy waiting at home patiently, easing his pains with letters and little colourful sketches, reassuring him that he would come back to the same house he left.

It was late, he could see the light in baby’s room was off already and it pained him to be late for the goodnight story.

The driver dropped his belongings beside the door with a huff before taking his money with a big thank you.

Laszlo nodded, a sense of tension taking over him, what if something indeed changed? What if you hate him for leaving for his own interest? Will his son remember him?

The silliest questions took over him and he just rang the bell before the spiral would take over and make him sleep in the garden out of his imaginary shame.

Stevie opened the door and his face lighted up instantly, Laszlo’s hand moved close to his own face with a finger up to signal him to keep quiet. The young lad nodded opening the door more, but a loud whine came out of his lips when he saw the heavy trucks beside Laszlo.

“Stevie? Who is it?”

Your voice vibrated through the walls enveloping Laszlo like a distant memory and a fresh breath of air at the same time.

Stevie mumbled something “Nobody Madam, only some funny head playing with bells at night” he said as Laszlo nodded at him.

He left the coat at Stevie with his gloves and hat making his way to the bedroom upstairs trying to be as quiet as possible, your vanity the first thing that appeared to his sight, he shifted lightly so he could spot your figure reflected in the mirror without being seen.

You were already in your white night dress, hair down wrapped in a braid that rested on your shoulder, his own dark blue night gown draped over you making you appear even smaller, a book resting in your hand, the other hand toying with the fabric of his gown. A soft sigh left your lips and a little smile, you are liking the book. You turn the page with your features lighting up by interest, he felt almost guilty to interrupt you.

“Guten Abend, my love”

Your head shot up, eyes wide in surprise, a smile growing on your lips as he walked inside the room revealing his presence. A sense of nervousness still on him.

“Laszlo” you called rushing to him, discarding the book and throwing the covers onside, closing the distance between the two of you by jumping out the bed like an excited child. Your hands wrapped quickly around his neck, you pulled him in, lips clashing against one another. He smiled in the kiss, eyes a bit teary as the happiness you were able to blossom into his chest since the first time he met you was still there. He cupped your cheek with his left hand, the kiss being long and followed by little short ones, and then again a long one.

“You should have told me” You whispered and he smiled at you noticing how you also got a bit of tears streaming down your cheeks, but all due to happiness. You picked his right hand kissing it lovingly, oh that ritual of yours, that mindless action you always did to kiss the part of him he despised the most.

“Welcome home, my love”

He smiled widely, so wide he felt his cheeks and jaw hurt, while he leaned his forehead against yours and you closed your eyes enjoying it. Your little telepathy thing, like he could pour his thoughts to you and vice versa.

In the meanwhile Stevie kept himself far from the two of you not wanting to interrupt or witness anything he shouldn’t. Laszlo pulled back from that position as he stared down at you, your eyes met again as you gulped down a little, his eyes travelling onto your neck as none of you seemed able to pick what words to let out first, too many informations gathered in six months that letters couldn’t covert.

His eyes raising up to yours, you moved first guiding his right hand still safe in your grasp inside that warm robe hiding your body, his fingers meeting with the obscenely thin fabric of your night dress, the shape of your breast clear under his touch, his thumb brushing over your nipple earning an immediate reaction from you.

His breath itched, his tongue wetting his lips as you kept supporting his weak arm while his hand discovered once more what hidden treasure was the body of his wife.

His left hand undoing the silky bow around your neck that kept that useless piece of clothing closed, your breasts being exposed as he leaned his head down lacing his lips with you nipple and giving it a tempting suck, his tongue roaming over it as a sense of home and comfort surged into his stomach, then he spoke and his hot breath against your wet nipple made you shiver.

“Have you done the exercises that I gave you?”

“No”

His eyes shoot up at you, a mix between the need to scold you and desire in them.

“I could do it only with your letters” you added.

“Not touching yourself enough must have been painful, exasperating, you could have brought yourself to hysteria”

“I know, but I was waiting for this moment”

He smirked, the idea to be a vital part of your sexual expression turning him on immensely.

“Which letter was your favourite?”

“The one where you described your fingers inside me, I could imagine it so clearly while I was doing it to myself”

He almost let out a groan only by the sound of your words, the need to go knuckles deep inside you now almost impossible to hold back as the image of your distressed figure rolling onto the sheets trying to emulate that pleasure he only can give you clouded his mind.

His left hand almost angrily undoing the fabric belt the nightgown around your waist before moving behind your back to pull it off your shoulders, you gently let go of his right hand helping him in the task, your hands now tugging his jacket, his waistcoat, beginning already with his shirt buttons, you were so in need, but he was the same. He tugged his shirt off probably ripping off some buttons, the urgency you both felt filling the air.

His eyes trying to take in all your figure as you finally let go of that white dress.

“Oh, meine Frau, no statue or artwork or inspiration I have seen in this travel equals your beauty” he groaned as he felt like he almost forgot how he worshipped your body, how your only presence triggered obscene desires through him.

There was almost a moment of suspense before he leaned his warm body against yours, skin on skin again.

His erection already brushing over your lower stomach as you guided him onto the bed with you laying down for him. “Laszlo” you were about to beg him not to make you wait, not to tease you but his left hand fingers were already between you legs and a yelp of pleasure left you lips immediately.

“Soaked wet without me even touching you”

He was so pleased, you didn’t need to look at his face to know, but you whimpered when his long finger pushed inside you, he knew it, he knew exactly how to touch you, how to manipulate all of you. His lips laced to your neck, he sucked on it, bit it, hickeys soon will follow the passage of him. He is back.

To see your own neck pale and empty from his marks pained you everyday, but now he is at home and there won’t be a single centimetre of you spared. Another moan followed as his mouth found your nipples again, your legs trembling as a second finger joined the first one making you gasp for air. The ultimate pleasure approaching in you too quickly, abnormally quickly, but you missed him so much and six months without his care on you was a torment.

His prideful smile gave you the freedom not to restrain your pleasure, your hips jolting up and trembling, more wetness gathering on his fingers before he pulled them out knowing that it would make you feel empty.

He punished you with distance as he sat down on the bed, you crawled over him, legs still feeling like jelly as you forced yourself to straddle him. You didn’t need to rest, you wanted him to bring you to exhaustion and he knew it, he knew you won’t wait anymore. So you aligned him with your folds, his hard cock opening his way into you easily thanks to your recent orgasm, a loud growl leaving Laszlo’s lips.

“My wife, it appears to me that you’re back being a virgin after only six months away from me”

You blushed because his words made you sensitive and proud in a very peculiar way, you moaned slowly beginning to ride him as he kept muffling how tight you’re pressing his forehead against your chest, his left arm wrapping around you. You voiced your pleasure freely, fingers tangling to the back of his head, now it was your turn to guide his pleasure, to set the rhythm, but the pace was slow and deep, the desire still feverish in you, but the closeness inspiring you tenderness.

“How horrible to rest in the cold Wien without you, how empty to walk without your presence” he spoke directly to your chest, to your heart “every achievement was not an achievement if I couldn’t share it with you” he confessed, his hot breath against your breasts.

“You’re back now, next time we will come with you”

You smiled as his eyes shone looking up at you “my wife”

He loved to call you that, he always did, the pride in his voice when he asked you to be his wife the first time came back to your memory. You didn’t need many nicknames, wife and husband, the holy duo, the balance, the symmetry.

“I love you, my husband”

You moaned against him, his fingers digging into your skin, his right hand settling over your hip.

You couldn’t guess how much it lasted, you impaled deliciously yourself over him, he loved to stare at you going on your own on top of him, love it, express fully your feminine power. His left hand teasing your clit sapiently mimicking your movements making it nauseatingly perfect, your mind clouded by pleasure. He cursed, he growled biting onto the side of your breast when filling you up and gaining another moan from you, he held you down as he kept rubbing your clit until he felt your walls clasp deliciously around him, he still didn’t want to move.

He loved to see you helpless, washed over by pleasure, legs jerking aimlessly and fingers pulling onto him and his hair.

You didn’t take time to recover from that second orgasm, his skilled fingers knowing their ways around you, you bowed your head joining your lips again, you still couldn’t believe it.

“I am such a lucky man to have you”

You smiled kissing his forehead “I am lucky with such a husband like you”

You stayed like this, hugging, the time to talk will come, the time to exchange gifts and come back to routine. But not now. After countless minutes you slowly shifted from that position, freeing his hard on from you but slowly moving beside his sitting figure staying on your all fours, the braid that held your hair almost completely loose.

“Come my husband, you only had one orgasm, I know you love even numbers”

The next morning the light from the window hit his eyes, he frowned stirring as he blinked tiredly. Your figure tangled to his in bed, the covers over the both of you. He kissed your forehead out of habit, the marks already forming on your neck made him proud, your regular breathing and gentle perfume mixed with the sweat of sex made his senses alive. You felt him move and woke up pretty easily, probably due to have slept alone for so long. You smiled at each other, no words yet needed, a soft kiss placed on each others lips.

The a soft sound, more like little sounds following one another, little feet rushing down the hallway.

“Mama” being whispered by a very shy boy, his clear brown hair peaking up from the doors.You smirked covering Laszlo completely with the duvets.

“My baby” you said sitting up holding the covers over your body.

“Mami!” He gasped surprised “what happened to your neck?”

“Oh, it is normal my baby, is it so late?”

He nodded and you smiled as he hopped on top of the messy bed, Laszlo smirked from underneath the covers, it seems like somebody took a habit of sneaking into the big bed.

You smiled as your boy resembled so much his father, he crawled to move to your lap and that’s when Laszlo sat up with a loud “Who’s in my bed?” holding his hand up like a claw.

The boy squared but soon threw himself against his father’s chest.

“Apa visszatért!!!” He shouted so loud at you like you didn’t notice Laszlo at all and you chuckled finding the two of them so adorable.

“I am going to get some breakfast done” you said willing to leave them their space. Laszlo nodded at you as you wrapped yourself into your dress and then the thick nightgown. You could hear them talk softly, Laszlo was all about speaking to him in his mother’s language but also in German, so your boy was always mixing the three. “Have you being a good master of the house while I was away?” “Yes Papa, I have been extra good and mommy was happy too, but it is not like when you’re here” Laszlo’s little chuckle won you over even by distance. You had to learn Hungarian through Laszlo, even if you were lucky enough to know German already. But how sweet it was to learn along with your boy.

“Little Andrea woke you up, mrs Kreizler?” The cook, a very nice and good hearted woman asked once you reached the kitchen still wrapped in your night clothes and redoing your braid.

“He did, but his father is back, I couldn’t detain him in any way” You assured as you instructed about the breakfast to make something special. When everything was ready and settled you saw the two of them coming downstairs together, Andrea holding his father’s weak hand into his, still babbling in German to him. The two of them still in their night clothes, you loved to be unruly with them, half of the world outside would be shocked to see a family have breakfast in their night clothes, but who cares. You sat all together as Laszlo begun narrating about his travel, Andrea almost forgetting to eat as he sat down staring at his dad with shiny eyes like he could disappear any time.

“Andrea, at least the juice” you said and he nodded vehemently in particular after you whispered something to his ear.

“Do you have secrets with me?” Laszlo inquired with a smirk, his messy hair a blessing in such bright day.

“Always had” you said with a smirk and he chuckled softly before standing up and leaving for a moment coming back with some boxes.

He handed his boy one and two to you, while Andrea was busy unwrapping the gift Laszlo moved behind your sitting figure “open the small one first”

You obeyed quietly as the box was clearly hinting it was jewellery, inside you found some white gold and blue sapphires earrings.

“Laszlo, you ..” He shushed you softly “come on, wear them for me, jewellery over night dress, a new fashion from Europe” He joked softly but you obliged his wishes putting them on, Andrea making happy cheering sounds as he found the model train of his dreams. The earrings dropped beautifully on you, framing the new Laszlo loved so much “I knew only a Venus like you could sport them” he said making you blush, he always spoke in a way that made you feel like courting never ended.

“What about this?” You asked about the second box and Laszlo smirked just gesturing you to go on. Inside there was a study for a portrait, your portrait, clearly inspired by the picture Laszlo had with himself of you.

“I met this young painter in Wien, a bit struggling with money but extremely talented as you can see, a craftsman that works with gold, I invited him to come here next month and work on your portrait, he fell in love with your figure already, I already know I will have to guard your safety.”

“What is his name?”

“Oh, he is not famous, Gustav Klimt”

“Well, we can make him famous then” you said and Laszlo just smiled more as you kissed his lips to thank him for the beautiful gifts, knowing Laszlo he probably had way more hidden in his trucks “I knew you’d say something this kind of sweet”

“Mama, you look beautiful” Andrea called you staring like he was waiting for you to say something and you smiled nodding “yes, now it is the perfect time”

“For what?” Laszlo asked as you took his hand guiding him to the living room.

“Please, take a sit now” you said slowly guiding him to his armchair, the comfort of the familiar place relaxed him, the fresh flowers in the vase, the books laid on the table.

“Andrea has a surprise for you” you said leaning to sit on the arm of the chair looking up a his confused face, but he was unable to let go of that smile creeping on his lips.

“Come inside darling” you called “we are ready”

You took Laszlo’s right hand guiding it on your lap, the curiosity already eating him alive as little Andrea came holding his little violin, still looking extra cute in that night dress that made him resemble some cute baby penguin. He puffed his chest blushing as you gave him a nod of encouragement, Laszlo’s eyes shining to see his son like this and the chemistry you two have.

“I have learned this piece to welcome you back home” he announced as his shaky voice betrayed a bit his nervousness.

He placed the violin carefully onto his shoulder resting his cheek on it, your hands holding Laszlo’s while tapping with you finger to keep the tempo for Andrea. The melody was simple, but quite impressive for such a young player, Laszlo was unable to look away from his son, from the way he relaxed while playing, for the way you clearly helped him to gain the confidence to do this little performance.

He looked up at you as you two shared that look of complicity.

Life was bright over Kreizler’s household.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme

Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3

#dr laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler #dr kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler x you #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kriezler x reader #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler imagine #the alienist x reader #the alienist fanfic

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cazimagines · 3 years

Note

would you do headcanons for edging Laszlo for a week, in public and at home?

Warnings: Edging, handjob, blowjob, teasing in public, riding

- Laszlo had snapped at you one evening. You knew the stress of helping people at the institute, and then having to deal with the public who held a distane for Laszlo was hard on him. But you didn't appreciate when he would take it out on you by shutting you out, stropping around moodily and becoming very sarcastic and harsh with his words. As soon as he snapped at you he regretted it. You could tell by the way his eyes widened but there was no turning around from it now.

- He attempted to treat you nicely for the rest of the night, asking how your day was, setting the food out for you, putting it away so you didn't have to do any of the tiresome work, reading to you. You appreciated the gestures and it amused you that Laszlo seemed to believe that was the end of it. When you retired for the night Laszlo was at your side, his lips caressing your neck, asking in his own subtle way if you were okay for doing more. Without speaking you pulled yourself on top of him and then moved back till your face was by his dick. Gently you took him in your mouth as he watched you and as you started to bob your head. The little gasps and slight moans that came from Laszlo's mouth was exciting and your eyes trailed on him as you watched his head fall back onto the pillow, his eyes fluttering as his mouth remained slightly open. He'd whisper to you how perfect you were, how much he loved you between gasps till he got to a point where he couldn't even form words. You could feel he was close from the way he twitched, and before he could have his release you pulled away from him.

- You smirked to yourself as you pulled yourself back up to the pillow and settled down to sleep. Laszlo was frozen in shock for what you did for a moment, then moved onto his side to whine at you for what you did. He tried to ask you to continue but you refused, and you made sure to tell him if he tried to relieve himself it wouldn't turn out well for him.

- You were able to have a peaceful sleep whereas Laszlo was awake for most of the night, needing the urge to release but unable to do anything about it, therefore, leaving him restless. In the morning a similar thing happens, Laszlo sighed in relief as he felt your hand wrap around him, hoping to end this torment that had kept him up all night. Very quickly he became a moaning mess underneath you but once again you pulled away, telling him he needed to prepare himself for the day. He whined at you, trying to convince you to join him back in bed but to no avail so he begrudgingly had to get up.

- His day was torment, when conducting interviews he had to be careful to hold his hands over his crotch to cover the clear erection upon him. His mind would constantly drift off and be distracted from what people were saying. You were not helping either with being equally distracting such as purposely dropping something on the floor and bending over to pick it up in front of him. He would glare at you knowing what you were doing on purpose. During times of the day, he would try and get you alone, trying to convince you to let him have his relief but you always refused, this was his punishment for snapping at you.

- And thus this continued for the whole week. Every night and morning you would tease him, bringing him to the edge of release but then letting go before he could ever achieve it and it had him getting on his knees and begging you to relieve him. Tears would fall from his eyes in a desperate plea. He never would have thought he'd reach the stage of that, always viewing himself as a man of a higher standing, who would never resort to pleading but when it came to you and what you were doing to him, at this point he would do anything.

- You enjoyed teasing him a bit too much in public, resting your hand on the inside of his thigh as you ate together at a restaurant, letting your fingers gently ghost against his crotch but pulling them away just as quickly. Whispering dirty things into his ears as you walked past him, revelling in the blush it brought to his cheeks. Giving him hickeys upon his shoulder which he would then desperately attempt to cover up so John wouldn't comment on them.

- By the time a week was up Laszlo was a mess. He needed you like the earth needs the sun like humans need air. Every moment he was practically on you, begging for release. He half believed at this point you could simply kiss him and that would be enough for him to lose it. His dick throbbed for you, the tip a deep purple colour and pre-cum already leaking. You felt pity for him in the end, and while you enjoyed seeing how desperate he was for you, you were more hyped to see how he would react when you finally gave him the release he craved.

- And oh was his reaction magnificent. He made no attempt to hide his pleasure, his loud moans as you rode him to oblivion. His hand desperately gripped onto you for some guidance as you relentless moved on top of him. He didn't take him long to finish, after being edged for so long, but you didn't stop there though. Oh no. Seeming as he was so desperate for this you were going to keep riding him till he couldn't cope anymore. Tears sprung from his eyes from the overstimulation, he could utter no words as his mouth was raw from moaning, his chest heaved heavily as he panted for breath, coming again and again.

- By the time you were finally done he was exhausted and dazed out, but as you settled into bed beside him, he clung to you desperately, whispering thank you to you over and over as he cuddled into you.

TAGS: @shrekboobies @arianalilyblack @wonderwoman292 @justreadingficsdontmindme @thehuiabird @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @kadeuuijib @lieutenantn @neoarchipelago @cable-kenobi @edencherries @faustlyaccused @julyvegan @prestigious-tea @hannahbal-the-fannibal @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @competitivepomegranate @welcometothemxdhouse @flutterskies @rumblelibrary @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sky-writes-stuff @rhinestxn-e @davianos-blog @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @mywinterivy @xxlumos @cathana2264 @ajokeformur-ray @nev3rfound @unbeatablecurlgirl

#laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler hcs #laszlo kriezler x reader #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler #the alienist #daniel bruhel #daniel bruehl #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl

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babybluebex · 3 years

Note

thoughts on laszlo + period sex?

ok MANY thoughts here (under the cut lmao)

so... laszlo and period sex...

he adores it

he knows from a medical standpoint that having an orgasm can soothe cramps and generally just make you feel ten times better

women back then tho were instructed to keep that shit hidden and secretive, though, even like from their husbands

but you know that laszlo isn't a squeamish bitch about a normal bodily function

you'd wake up in the morning and your tummy and everything is tight and hurts and you sorta groan a little and reach out for your husband

and he's awake and reading the newspaper (laszlo is an early riser, fight me) and he takes up your hand and kisses your knuckles "good morning, liebling. did you sleep well?"

"no... i'm about to start my monthly cycle, i can feel it"

and he pouts like genuinely and smooths your hair down and kisses your forehead "what can i do for you?"

"i don't know... something. anything."

he nods a bit and slides out of bed, and he moves silently through the house to not wake anyone, collecting old blankets and things that can be stained

and he settled the blankets under your body and slides his hand up your leg, pushing your nightgown up to expose your cunt, and even just the feeling of his eyes on you makes your thighs quiver a bit

laszlo isn't boastful or gloating in the bedroom, but especially not right now

he's here to help please you and soothe your pains, and he's gonna do just that

he starts with his fingers, just lightly massaging your clit and making sure you're relaxed and pliable before slowly plunging two of his fingers into you

he fucks you nice and slow, twisting his fingers inside you and so softly kissing your thigh, just being sweet and making you feel good

eventually, though, his skill overtakes his softness, and you're trembling around him and clutching at his messy hair

"laszlo, my dear... i need to cum"

"do it, liebling. come around my fingers. i'm hardly finished with you yet anyway"

you writhe a bit and clench down on his fingers and your cum gushes out of you

laszlo can feel your heightened pulse through the thin, soft walls of your cunt, and he kisses at your puffy lips for a moment before pulling out his fingers and inspecting the damage

his fingers are wet and tinted a bit red, and he nods because he expected exactly that

and your good doctor will not shy away from a little blood

his mouth attaches to you next, and you're still sensitive from the orgasm his fingers gave you, and you hardly have the mind to push him away

i personally think that laszlo eats pussy like a goddamn champ, so he'd pull out all the stops here

eating and licking your cunt like a man possessed, put on this earth solely to please you with his mouth

"oh, you taste like heaven, mein liebling..."

"l-like blood, i'd imagine"

"oh, but that blood is wonderful, darling. it's natural, it's part of you, and it's oh-so delicious"

his nose nestling against your clit as he sucks at your hole, and then his fingers swiping along your wet hole as he licks and nips at your clit

scrubs his facial hair against your clit roughly enough to have you whining and whimpering

"las, i-i'm not gonna last much longer... i need you inside me, darling"

"as you wish, my dear"

laszlo could cum just from the feeling of his cock sinking into you, and having you be extra sensitive and responsive doesn't help him much at all

he's been on the edge of cumming in his pajama pants ever since he first sank his fingers into you, and he's not entirely confident that he won't bust his load the second you clench around him

he's sweet as he fucks you, but just rough enough to feed your little hormone-induced need to be fucked senseless

you're clawing at his back and crying and arching your back up into him and your hips are stuttering, trying to meet his

eventually, his quick and sharp thrusts turn into cervix-bruising long, hard strokes that have the bed slamming against the wall and you going limp in his hold

"laszlo, laszlo!... mmm, g-gonna cum, can't... las!"

he kisses your lips and you can taste every bit of yourself on his greedy tongue

the taste of your cum and arousal still in his beard, along with the metallic tang of your blood

(you don't think that your blood is "oh-so delicious" but hey, to each his own ig)

he comes inside you, but only after ensuring that you came first

he'd come so hard and keep fucking you through it

the sound of his hot cum being fucked deep into you, the squelch of it

that's enough to make laszlo's blood run hot and his neck turn red

he stills inside you once he's finished giving you his release, and he'd carefully press the heel of his hand down into your tummy and feel it resist just a bit with the amount of cum he stuffed in you

"pretty little thing... do you feel better?"

"yes, laszlo. so much better. thank you"

he'd pull out and watch you lay on your back and catch your breath, and he'd go about wetting a cool cloth and cleaning you off as best as he can

the cloth comes back a little stained with your blood, and he looks and the old blankets he laid out served their purpose

his cock is stained red as well, but he loves the sight of it, and so do you

you sit up and take the wet cloth and carefully clean him, and you're not trying to get him hard, just stroking his soft cock and cleaning him off

and you don't know it, but he's looking down at you with so much love

he puts his palm on your cheek and angles your head up, and he leans over to kiss you softly, and he whispers something in german and you don't get the entire thing bc you're still fuzzy from the pleasure he gave you

and like sometimes after i cum my ears start ringing?? idk i should probably get that checked out tbh

but like about 5 minutes after i cum i am simply Not Hearing Anything

so i wouldn't hear him praising me and telling me he loves me

but i know that anyway, i don't NEED to hear him say it

just,,, wow

he would hide the stained blankets away and keep them for that exact purpose

he'd only trust himself to clean them and like if cyrus or stevie saw him washing blood-stained blankets he would intentionally get all scary "you saw nothing here. what i do in my free time is NONE of your business"

kinda makes them think like??? is laszlo off killing someone??

nah he's just killing that pussy

#fan mail #anon #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler headcanons #tw periods #tw menstruation

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mehphoobia · 3 years

Text

Coming Over

Pairing - Laszlo x Reader

Warning - none

Summary- laurentrvn [REQUEST]

Would you do Modern!Laszlo x Fem!reader Reader was a fashion designer, making clothes are casual style. Her phone ring, it was your psychiatrist (Laszlo your bf). He called you that how was you day doing. Of course he would like to ask you if you could go to dinner with him on his apartment. You could always say yes. Tonight they are getting dressed and ready. Then she came to his apartment, ring his doorbell. Laszlo open it, you can come in, his apartment was modern Victorian and very unique. They are in dining room, having dinner ready. They start talking. They are being honest at each other. You two head to his living room. Laszlo seem to look at you that he thinks that you are beautiful. Laszlo pinned you at couch. Kiss passionately. You always wanted to cherish him more. Laszlo was sweetness in your heart, they shared bed together.

___________________________🤍___________________________

Just like a piece of fabric, even people have layers. Some people tend to hide their real selves in front of people by pretending to be someone they are not or people just don't expect them to be any different. But you had seen all kinds of people in your life.

Being an unwanted child and regularly abused had left its mark in your life that was more of a dent than a mark. At the age of 17, when you finally decided to have your life and your future your way, there was no looking back.

After six long years, here you are today, a fashion designer in a well-known company with a good education. As always, the exterior background you had attracted more people even before they knew your story. What difficulties you had to go through and who you were.

That's what you thought before meeting Dr. Laszlo. Your past haunted you for a long time until you decided to get help from a psychologist. "You can talk to me, its alright. Its all in the past." That was the first thing he said. It wasn't much, but somehow the scars and wounds on your skin made all those years ago, somehow healed.

Well after that, the appointments, got extended. Most of the times, Dr. Lazslo would end up dropping you off at your apartment. Both of you felt awkward at first. He was supposed to be your psychiatrist after all. But him waiting outside your office building, sending you flowers every alternate day with cute little messages on small cards, was something you found endearing.

"You want to work on the report? Ms. Lee suggested your name." asked your colleague. Her sudden intervention had you stuff the card in your drawer and broke the moment that had you in all smiles. "Uh? Yeah sure." you had no idea what that report was because you were busy admiring the messages.

"The year end report Ms. Y/N. Its due next week." Your colleague's voice trailed off as she left your cabin. You bit your lip in embarrassment. You liked being loved and you loved him too.

Your phone's screen lit up just like your face when you received Dr. Laszlo's call. "Y/N?" his voice was laced with honey. "Hey" you replied. "If you are not too busy why don't you come over for dinner?" Laszlo asked. You understood that all his appointments were done for the day. "I am done with my work for today so I think I can join you." His voice was doing a terrible job in hiding his excitement and you couldn't help but giggle at that.

Around 1 hour was spent in front of the mirror contemplating the light blue dress that comfortably sat on your curves. Dealing with dresses is what you do normally then what was happening today? After tirelessly staring at the mirror you decided to let it go. You were confident and looked beautiful in what you were wearing. After grabbing the scented candles, you sent Laszlo a message giving a heads up.

Never were you so happy for the foundation on your face, enough to hide your tinted cheeks. He was all smiles when he saw you as he opened the door. His apartment was beautiful. The intricate design on the racks and the quality of the furniture was outstanding. That man had quite a taste.

Within no time you reached at his place and he got your shawl and overcoat as he placed his briefcase near the rack. "Can I help you with something?" you asked leaning over the kitchen counter.

"There is the vinaigrette, why don't you season the salad" he suggested. The dinner was amazing. No out of the line talks, no fake comments just a simple and quiet dinner, something you didn't realize was needed but it was. It was perfect.

"I will do this, could you help me with the dessert? It's in the fridge." Laszlo said he took the dishes from your hands and put it in the sink. You smiled and nodded your head. "Someone was prepared?" you said looking at the two servings of tiramisu placing them on the tea table near the couch. "For you? Always" he said sheepishly as he pinned you on the soft velvety surface of the couch and captured your lips in a searing kiss. His lips were soft on yours. He could the taste of the sweet wine on your lips as he devoured you.

It was a tough job keeping his hands to himself since the time you passed him when you entered the apartment. The subtle fragrance of your perfume was driving him crazy. The blue dress exposed your curves to his hungry eyes and the comment ignited it all. He was always a spectator of your beauty but tonight he was its victim.

Your eyes felt heavy as the movie ran on the T.V. "Tired?" he asked. "Yeah maybe" you chuckled at his observation. He slowly placed his arms beneath your neck and adjusted your head on the crook of his shoulder. The comforting smell of his cologne had you curling in his embrace.

It wouldn't hurt to shut your problems out for a night, right?

____________________________🤍_____________________________

A/N: Hello guys, I am back with another fanfiction. I had a major writer's block but I am happy I could come out of it. It was a much needed brake anyways so..

You all are seriously increasing my standards in men. But writing fics wouldn't hurt right.

REQUESTS OPEN | MASTERLIST | OTHER FANFICTIONS

Love yourself...you are worth it ❣❣

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provokedgoalie · 3 years

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queenlyfae · 3 years

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Okay but I keep seeing this gif and like -

All I can see is very two worried husbands friends with benefits bachelor roomies friends supervising the first date between their children and John’s just like:

John Moore: what do you want to be called?

Laszlo: ???

John Moore: I think Pop-pop will be a good one. I’ll settle for Papa. Daddy is what Sara calls me when we’re all alone.

Laszlo: ??????

John Moore: Grandfather is absolutely out of the question I’m too pretty young to be called that.

Laszlo: What are you talking about?

John Moore: what the grandchildren will call us.

Laszlo: I thought we were going to try and break them up?!?!

John Moore: you can’t tell me you haven’t given it some thought??

Laszlo:..

Laszlo:....

Laszlo: ......

Laszlo: ..........Achu.

John Moore: bless you.

Laszlo: -_-

#daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #no context #Luke Evans #Daniel Brühl #the alienist #headcanons #John more headcanons #laszlo kreizler #Laszlo kreizler headcanons #John moore headcanons #meme

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mcu-senshi · 3 years

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I couldn’t sleep the other night but I randomly started thinking about headcannons or possible fic ideas for The Alienist. And my mind really decided on this:

- Dark! Laszlo having his partner that’s a woman (girlfriend or wife) institutionalized out of pure anger or revenge and no one would think twice 🤭

#the alienist #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler #john moore

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fanfictionandmore · 5 years

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Laszlo Kreizler Headcanons

Headcanon 1:

(Trigger Warning)

Laszlo Kreizler self harmed when he was younger. I know there isn't any mention of him harming himself in Caleb Carr's books, but this is something I firmly believe in. In one of the last two episodes we see Laszlo break a wine glass before stabing his withered arm, because he obviously blames his insecurities/injury for not confessing his feelings for Mary sooner. I think when he was younger he often blamed what happened to his arm to cause most of the heartache he felt when he was a teenager. I don't think he self harmed in a very long time because he managed to get past hurting himself, but the pain of losing Mary was too much for him. He couldn't handle all of the sadness and slef loathing/self doubt he was feeling and therefore hurt himself.

Headcanon 2:

He was bullied at university. Most of his classmates most likely thought his way of thinking was outlandish and obsured. Not to mention the fact that a lot of them probably made fun of his arm or made jokes about his Hungarian-German background. But John and Roosevelt were always there to back him up and defend him; that's why they stayed friends after they graduated. I doubt Laszlo would have stayed friends with anyone if they hadn't been anything but loyal and showed him some form of kindness.

Headcanon 3:

Sometimes he goes weeks without sleep. I think he suffers from insomnia because he worries a lot about the children at the institute among many other things. I'm sure his self doubt plays a big roll in it as well. He spends late nights at the institute and sometimes falls asleep face down in a book he was reading. Or falls asleep on an essay he was writing and wakes up with ink smudges on his face. It was kinda hinted to in The Angel of Darkness a little.

Headcanon 4:

He talks in his sleep. Personally, I think anyone who thinks and worries as much as he does has to talk in their sleep. But I also think it's something absolutely adorable. Imagine just sitting there, him accidently falling asleep sitting next to the fire place and he softly mumbles something incoherent.

+++++

This is what I've written so far, I might make a part two. Let me know if you'd like a part two btw!!

#daniel brühl #laszlo kreizler #Laszlo Kreizler headcanons #headcanon #headcanons #norilski

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starlightsearches · 2 years

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9, 17, 20 and 38 from the smut prompts with laszlo?? I’m sorry if that’s too many, they’re just sooo good!!

Feel Me

Wowowowow friend, those are some excellent choices! I tried to work them all in here for you, but I did have to edit a couple of them to keep the flow. Hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 🥰

9 / 17 / 20 / 38 from the Smut Prompt List

Laszlo Kreizler x femme! reader

Warnings: smut (18+ only), kind of dark! laszlo, soft dom! laszlo, gendered terms for the reader, vaginal fingering, infidelity, inexperienced reader, shame, period-typical sexism, mentions of bad sex, inappropriate power dynamics (doctor/patient), i don't know how victorian undergarments are supposed to work, maybe it's a little ooc? I have no idea. Let me know if I missed anything!

Dr. Kreizler has his face between your legs.

With you skirt pulled up over your knees, his breath brushes against your parted thighs and your face burns with shame. You're not bare—your dress still offers plenty of coverage—but without your undergarments you might as well be nude.

Tears sting at the corners of your eyes; you just barely resist the urge to force your legs closed, shutting out him and this soulless exam room and the knowledge that you're sitting here, waiting for a man who is not your husband to look at the most sensitive part of you and tell you exactly why you're broken.

"And when did the problems start?" he asks, standing. You relax your legs, pushing your skirt back down over your ankles.

"Since we've been married," you tell him. Dr. Kreizler strolls leisurely around the exam table, but you keep your eyes in your lap.

Your husband has been very patient with you, even after six months of marriage, yet every night is still an exercise in embarrassment. He’s become tired of you trying and failing to feel something, to react to your his hands the way you should, instead of counting your breaths and waiting for it to be over.

And who could blame him?

"There's been no improvement?"

You shake your head, unable to speak past tears pooling in your lashes.

His hand rests on your shoulder, thumb stroking softly over the juncture of your neck—a comforting gesture that still manages to put you on edge, setting your skin alight beneath the sleeve of your dress.

"I'd like to try something else," he says, voice always smooth, like a rich piece of chocolate, or velvet under your fingers, "I want you to tell me how it feels when I rest my hand in different places on your body. Can you do that for me?"

Your heartbeat quickens, but you nod. Dr. Kreizler would never hurt you.

"How does this feel?" he asks, and he shifts his thumb higher, until he reaches skin, and your pulse thrums beneath the press of his finger.

"It feels . . . alright."

He nods, stepping around to the other side, letting his hand trail down over your sleeve, until his palm is covering the back of your hand.

"And this?"

His eyes are on the spot where your hands meet, so analytical as he observes the contact, but your eyes are on him.

He has such a handsome face. You've always thought so, since the day your husband introduced you—the handsome, lonely Dr. Kreizler with his soft eyes and penchant for the opera. And you loved your husband—of course you did—but there were still times when you'd find the doctor's eyes on you across a crowded dining room or party, and the electric feeling of his notice would stay with you long after you and your husband had retired for the evening.

"Fine."

It feels better than fine, the slightest chill traveling across your skin as he strokes the tip of his finger over the ridges in your knuckles, the delicate bones on the inside of your wrist.

He hums in casual response. "Is it good when I touch you here?"

He presses his hand against your stomach, with more force than the other touches, just below the swell of your breast. The weight is pleasant, and the proximity even more so, his face much closer than before, eyes cataloguing each subtle shift in your expression.

"It is."

His gaze flashes to your lips before meeting your eyes again. A single strand of hair falls across his forehead, just brushing the tip of his nose.

"And what about," he leans in, closer still, hot breath caressing your cheek, "this."

His hand slips between your thighs, bunching the fabric of your dress against your bare cunt.

"Dr. Kreizler," your hand grips his wrist, but you're unsure what to do once with it once it's there. You could—should—push him away, but the pressure is surprising, and the slight shift of his fingers and the ripples they send through the fabric feels . . . good.

He hushes you with a stern glare, making no effort to remove his hand, grip like iron compared to your own.

"Laszlo. You'll call me Laszlo in private."

"Laszlo," you correct yourself without a thought, "my husband, he'll—"

"Your husband," he spits the word with an uncanny venom, grinding the heel of his hand more forcefully against the sensitive spot between your thighs," is a fool—blaming his inadequacies in sex on an undeserving wife. He sent you to me because he believes you cannot feel his pawing hands and pathetic thrusts, but you can feel, leibling, just as well as any woman. You can feel me."

He's right. You can.

He has such talented fingers—hands that would be right at home on piano prodigy—coaxing a sinful heat in your core despite the layers of fabric.

“How does this feel, leibling? Tell me how it feels.”

“It feels—“

How does feel? It's wholly unfamiliar—the desperate shift of your hips against his hand, the pleasant fog at the corners of your vision and the edges of your mind. It feels like everything you've ever wanted, like the long-awaited opening of a maddeningly locked door.

"I— Laszlo, I need more."

He leans in closer, close enough that his lips almost brush yours, and for a moment you think he might kiss you. You hope he might kiss you.

"Lift up your skirt," he whispers instead.

You have the hem in your hands a moment later, raising it eagerly until your balled fists rest in the middle of your thighs, and your momentum fails. Despite everything you've already done, there's no getting past this indecency on your own.

"So shy, now, schatz? Moments ago you were humping my hand and now this is all you can give me? Perhaps I should inform your idiotic husband that no more treatment will be necessary. Perhaps, you've already been cured. Would you like to go back to him so soon, pet?"

"No," panic flares, and the hem of your dress bares another inch of your skin, but it's the warmth of his hand on your thigh that convinces you to lift it the rest of the way, lifting your hips out of the seat, flinching at the cold material of the exam table against your bare ass.

"Good girl," he coos, taking your chin between his fingers, "now, kiss me properly."

Your lips part, and his eyes are still open when he presses a gentle peck to your lips, closing them only when you kiss him back.

Oh my. It's nothing like any kiss you've had, in your limited experience. The chaste kisses you shared with your husband after your engagement had their own kind of thrill—the thrill of an imagined fairy tale, of a promised happily ever after. The naïeveté wore off rather quickly, after your failure to perform your other wifely duties.

Kissing Laszlo isn't like that at all. There's a quiet passion behind tender movement of his lips, not out of duty, but desire. His hand cups you, without force but still secure, determined to keep you against him as long as you'll let him.

Your eyes don't open automatically when you pull back, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks, and so you don't see the look on his face as he brushes his thumb over your skin, before pressing the tips of his fingers against your parted and swollen lips.

"Open," he comands, and you're so pliant for him, opening wide enough for his fingers to disappear into your wet mouth all the way to the second knuckle before you respond with a soft gag at the pressure.

"I'm sorry, liebling, I'm sorry," he shushes you, so gentle, pulling back just enough to allow your tongue some movement between his digits, "I need my them nice and wet before I tease that aching cunt of yours. Suck on my fingers, now."

You do as he asks, hollowing your cheeks and tightening your lips. You shouldn't be doing this—shouldn't be sinking to such base acts, not when you have a husband at home and a spotless reputation and a last name that everyone in New York knows.

It's no use. You couldn't stop now, not when Laszlo is looking at you with those soft, irreverent eyes. You'd walk through fire if he asked it.

His fingers escape your lips with a soft pop, shiny with spit. You watch his hand disappear between your legs again, and your heart thumps more heavily in your chest. It's getting harder to breathe.

"There we are, liebling," he praises you, stroking your outer folds with his moistened fingers, spreading the slick across your cunt, just barely brushing your clit.

The shock of pleasure jumps through your chest, your back arching slightly off the exam table, lips parting with a violent breath.

Laszlo smirks. "And he thinks you can't feel."

Your husband's mistakes are becoming clearer with each stroke of his fingers—their gentle circles around your tender clit, or the teasing press at your entrance.

"You're getting so wet for me, pet," he comments, stretching your entrance little by little with one circling finger. "I think you're ready for more of me."

You nod, grateful your soft moans are keeping your mouth too busy to beg.

He slips his middle finger inside of you, and it's already a thousand times better than anything you've experienced in your marital bed. The gentle stretch, the way he curves his finger against your tender front wall while his thumb works steadily at your clit—it has you reaching heights you had never thought would be available to you.

"Please, Laszlo, please," you paw at his chest, trying to grab hold of his jacket, looking for leverage, but your hands are weak, your body much too concerned with the rapturous glow overtaking your cunt to function properly.

You'll have to beg then, instead. "Please, kiss me again. Please."

He chuckles, his wrist working more ardently until you can hardly hear him over the wetness between your legs.

"Not yet. I need to see you cum first. I want to watch you unravel for me."

He slips another finger inside of you without ceremony, and your eyes roll back in your head, vision going dark.

The movement of his fingers is nothing short of marvelous, scissoring back and forth, punctuated by the occasional deep thrust that has your hips lifting from the seat and stars in your eyes.

His voice reaches you even in the deepest trenches of your pleasure.

"It's alright, liebling, you can let go. Cum for me."

And you do, sunken beyond a point of return, emerging on the other side in a flare of bright light, the spasming of your cunt sending shards of it through your body with every stroke against your raw and aching clit.

"Look how good you are for me," he whispers, pulling his fingers from your core as the contractions subside, brushing his wet fingers across your hairline.

He kisses you tenderly, his hand—still sticky with your spend—cupping your cheek. Your legs shake from your release, but it would be impossible not to kiss him back.

He pulls away, cleaning his fingers on a nearby cloth before brushing his hair back into place, slipping back into his doctor's persona as easily as he'd slipped out of it.

"Tell your husband that you'll need regular treatment for the foreseeable future. Perhaps once a week."

You nod, pulling your skirt back down into place before you stand from the exam table. You're unsteady on your feet, swaying dangerously, and he takes you with a hand on your arm, pulling you in tight against his chest.

"The next time he touches you, schatz," he says to you, speaking right up against the shell of your ear, and the sin in his words makes you shiver, "make sure you're thinking of me."

#laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kriezler x reader #laszlo kreizler smut #laszlo kreizler headcanons #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreisler x reader #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #the alienist #the alienist fanfiction #the alienist fanfic #my writing #requests #anons #minors dni #daniel brühl

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dragon-kazansky · 2 years

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Pumpkin carving | Halloween!

Helmut Zemo

He had seen you looking at the pumpkins for sale, so of course he had gone to get a couple.

They weren't huge, but not so small yoy wouldn't be able to carve them.

He placed them on the table and called your name. The smile on your face was so worth his little idea.

You both spend the afternoon working on them.

Helmut was quite skilled in pumpkin carving.

You finished your first.

While you waited for him to finish his, you cleaned up.

Helmut presented his intricate design.

Its amazing!

Both pumpkins would be put on display for the locals to enjoy.

You look forward to seeing what he will do next year.

Christopher Pike

It was your idea.

He was happy to indulge in this little task.

You bring two decent size pumpkins and your little carving tool kit.

He tells you he hasn't done this since he was a boy.

All the more reason to do it now!

Pike has fun emptying the pumpkin.

You'll find a few seeds tossed your way.

If you're not both covered in pumpkin with bits in your hair and your hands stained orange, are you even doing it correctly?

Christopher goes with a simple design, but it's neat and tidy and looks great.

Yours has a bit more detail to it, but it compliments his simple Jack-o-lantern nicely.

Pike displays both of them on the bridge for the crew to enjoy.

Otto Octavius

Pumpkin carving? Nonsense!

Lets do it!

Otto hasn't done this in forever, so doing so now brings back all kinds of joy.

Every cut he makes into the pumpkin is precise.

Every so often he looks up from his work to look at you.

If only he had a camera to capture the pure joy on your face right now!

When both pumpkins are done, he will help clean up.

Otto will put both pumpkins together.

You're always by his side, so your pumpkin belongs beside his.

He will fetch some tea lights to put into the pumpkins.

He can't wait to do this again next year.

Laszlo Kreizler

Laszlo finds you in the kitchen emptying the contents of a pumpkin.

He asks what you're doing.

You explain your plan to carve it.

Oh, he wishes he could join you.

You see the expression on his face fall.

You invite him to watch you.

Laszlo takes a seat and watches you work away.

You ask him what he thinks.

Laszlo is impressed.

You allow him the honours of lighting the candle within.

Laszlo requests the pumpkin he placed in his office.

He smiles every time he looks at it.

Leonard "Bones" McCoy

When you bring him a pumpkin he wonders what the hell you're thinking.

Unfortunately for him, he has a weakness for your smile.

So when you ask him to carve one, he can't say no.

"I'm going to complain the entire time."

You don't care.

You're happy to be here doing this with him.

Bones is good with his hands.

Carving a pumpkin is easy work for him.

His pumpkin is more much detailed than yours.

You're really impressed by his work.

He tells you he doesn't care for this, but in truth he enjoyed every second of it.

Mainly because he got to do it with you.

He wouldn't mind if you brought him another one next year.

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal knew you wanted to carve a pumpkin, so he brought you one.

He only bought one.

You look at him with a frown.

"I wanted us both to do one."

He smiles at you.

The pumpkin is placed on the counter top. He has you face it and stands behind you.

With his hand on yours, he carves the pumpkin with you.

Slowly and precisely, it takes shape.

Hannibal speaks quietly in your ear as you work away.

Never before has carving a pumpkin been more intimate than this.

When you're done, Hannibal cleans up.

He lets you choose where you want to display it.

You put it outside on the front step.

Hannibal smiles every time he comes home and sees it.

Maybe next time he will give it a go too.

#helmut zemo x reader #Christopher Pike x reader #Otto Octavius x reader #Laszlo Kreizler x reader #Leonard McCoy x reader #Hannibal Lecter x reader #halloween #halloween headcanons

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