Irrealis Moods

Abruptly, you felt the hair on the back of your neck rise, and an icy shiver ran through your body. In the back of your mind, you knew both you and Niki were being watched. As Niki knelt down further to examine the car's underside, you tossed your head, trying to grasp the eye line of whoever was looking at you. 

Your team, however, were going about their day, barely sparing you two a glance. They had all grown accustomed to seeing Niki around in the garage now. So often, he was there that they joked Niki was an unofficial third member of the team. The Ferrari garage did not appreciate such jokes, especially when it leaked to the press.

When you were about to give up, chalking the feeling to an over-reactive imagination, your eyes locked with James Hunt. He stood at the end of the garage, arms crossed, shaggy blonde hair framing the side of his face while his knee stuck up as he leaned against one of the metal walls.

James was scowling. As you captured his gaze, he didn't look away. The usual James Hunt arrogance shining through. You narrowed your eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking. As this staring match continued, nothing occurred to you. Jame's should have no reason to stare at you in such a way; after all, everything between the three of you had been so peaceful this season. Sighing, you place your hands on the side of the car and hurl yourself up. 

"Give me a few minutes, Niki."

Niki peeked at you from where he was analysing the car. He followed your gaze and noticed James. He rose.

"What is he doing here?"

"That's what I am going to find out," you say, walking towards James.

Niki followed behind you, but James, noticing you walking towards him, stretched and took a few steps forward, meeting you halfway. As James looked at Niki, his frown deepened, and it felt like you could see ice-coat his blue eyes.

"What's with the look, asshole?" Niki clamours, raising his chin at James.

"I'd like to talk to you y/n, in private," James says, ignoring Niki's remark.

Niki narrowed his eyes, sucking on his top teeth before hissing the words.

"What matter of discussion requires me not being here?"

"A sensitive one, Niki. So sod off."

Niki looked close to snarling. He took a step forward as his cheeks flushed, but before he could hit James back with an insult, you placed your hand on his chest and stopped him.

"It's not worth getting into an argument, Niki. Just give me a few minutes to talk to him."

"Seriously," Niki snapped, his gaze turning to you in disbelief. 

"You're willing to hear him out after saying he didn't want me around? He is going to talk about me. He's made that clear. Whatever he says will be bullshit."

You glance between Niki and James. You knew Niki was right; whatever James would say, it would be about Niki and likely wasn't nice, but your curiosity was hard to beat.

"Just give me a few minutes, Niki."

Jame's lips twitched into a smug smile while Niki's burning eyes and tensed face glanced between the two of you before storming off. 

"You really know how to rile him up, don't you, James," you say, crossing your arms as you give him a disapproving look.

"I need some fun around here." James jostles, smirking, but as he sees his playfulness isn't making the situation better, his smile slips.

"Come on, y/n, don't tell me being engaged to that man for a month has drained any sense of humour from your mind."

"I still have my sense of humour, James's, but it's not funny seeing Niki upset."

"We're all friends, really. Though Niki seems to detest that word. You know it. It's friends chumming around."

"Is this really what you pulled me away from my work to talk about?"

If James still had any more joyfulness captured on his face, it faded quickly. He glanced to the ground and then back up at you, a solum breath of air leaving his lips. 

"You will not like what I am going to say, y/n."

"Then is there any need to say it?"

"Yes," Jame's stressed, taking a step forward to you.

The seriousness of the tone of Jame's voice and how his face had lost its usual charm shook you more than you thought it would. You'd never seen him so serious before. Not even when he was getting ready to race. 

"Then tell me."

Jame's eyes glance to the car behind you, then capture your eyes again.

"What were you just telling Niki y/n?"

You tilted your head, confused.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Please, just answer me."

"Well... I was just telling him some improvements I made in my car."

James hung his head, letting out another sigh.

"And how long has he been interested in knowing these things y/n?"

Suddenly, like the last puzzle piece fitted into the image, everything made sense.  

"No, James, that's not it."

"You knew what he was like y/n; you saw the way he treated you before. He didn't care. Not until you were winning. He knew you were doing things to the car-"

"What you are suggesting is ridiculous, James! Are you even hearing yourself right now?"

"I was watching him. I'd never seen him so interested in something before. I know Niki y/n; I've known him for a long time; I know what he is like."

"And I know what you are like! I can't believe you are accusing the person you just called a friend of something like that. To lie is one thing, but to fake a whole relationship? You really think Niki would be so heartless to do that simply to win?"

"Of course, I don't want to think that of him y/n, who would? But the evidence is there, and I don't want to see you being hurt by him."

You huff and shake your head at James, taking a step back.

"You don't want to see me hurt? Right, I see what this is."

Jame's eyes widen as he tries to take another step toward you. 

"Wait, y/n, that's not- that wasn't what I meant-"

"Niki and I are very happy, James, though that seems to surprise the entire world. I love him, and he loves me, and I would appreciate it if you didn't ‌meddle in our relationship any further."

You turned your back on James, fists clenched as you stormed off, following the path Niki took. You felt your cheeks burn in anger, your whole body vibrating. But what you hated more was the nagging feeling buried deep in the back of your mind that James had unlocked, the doubt of the relationship within. 

“Have you been a good boy Las?” you murmur, rising from your chair. Instantly, Laszlo’s back straightened from the slouch as his eyes followed you. He nodded frantically, not daring to say a word. He wanted to express his discomfort on his painfully tight trousers, which his cock pressed up against, but he couldn’t. Subtly, he tried to rub his palm against it for a fleeting chance of stimulation in friction, but you had caught sight of what he was doing, making your lips curl down in displeasure.

Your hand reached forward to hold the side of his face, letting him briefly close his eyes and lean into your delicate touch, but that brief moment of bliss was quickly broken when you grasped the ends of the hair on the back of his neck and yanked his head back. He let out a surprised yelp as his widened eyes looked back at you. His mind was reeling in shock, but before he had time to digest the shock in his mind, he felt your hand on his chest, palming at the skin underneath his shirt, slowly sliding its way down his abdomen till you reached the buttons on his slacks.

He moved his head to look down at what you were doing, but you pulled on the little wisps of hair on the back of his neck and forced him to look up at you again, maintaining your eye contact as he felt your hand work on the buttons of his slacks. Once you had unbuttoned them, you hooked your fingers into the material and slowly slipped them down his thighs, letting them pool at his bent knees, exposing his hard and leaking cock to you. Your hand instantly reached down to grasp it, catching the pre-cum that dripped from his rosy tip and gently using it to pump his cock. You rubbed up and down the soft skin, feeling the veins throb against your palm as it hardened further. Laszlo let out a whimper, shutting his eyes as he rocked his hips, aiding your hand. He didn’t dare say a word, knowing he wasn’t allowed, but in turn, that made him sound needier as he tried to hold in moans and whimpers. Every time your thumb swiped over his sensitive tip to collect more pre-cum, he let out a deep moan, his eyelids flickering as he pushed his hips further into your hand. Occasionally, you would let him go to reach down further, cupping his balls and squeezing them to make him gasp.

You continued with this, watching every bit of Laszlo’s reaction as you pleasured him. Watching the way, he gritted his teeth as you slowly pulled him nearer and nearer to his climax, how his cheeks became rosier as he started to lose his control. Occasionally his arm would twitch, wanting to reach out and hold you, but he was able to keep it by his side like a good boy. He let out a pitiful whine, closing his eyes and letting his jaw hand loose as he felt the impending climax, but that was when you let go of his cock, stopping all stimulation and preventing him from reaching his high.

“Awh, does puppy want to cum?” you purr, running your fingers through Laszlo’s slicked-back hair as he collapses against your leg, letting out a wail of frustration which eventually quietens down to panting. His cock lets a bead of pre-cum drip from his tip onto the floor as the tip grew a brighter red in his frustration. After a minute, Laszlo glanced up at you again, trying his best to give you puppy dog eyes, whining for you to give him his treat.

“Maybe if you had been an obedient puppy, I would have let you cum, but I saw you were trying to touch yourself Las, only bad puppies do that.”

His strong hand curled around your leg, and he leaned against you, placing his chin on your thigh to glance up at you pleadingly, letting out more pitiful whines. You hum, brushing your fingers through Laszlo’s hair again, occasionally giving it a slight pull to hear him moan.

“I must punish bad puppies Las, I can’t let you get away with it, or you will do it again. But puppy, if you really want to get off, then hump my leg like the mutt you are.”

Laszlo’s eyes briefly locked onto yours, and you tilted your head, silently asking if it was too far, but after a few seconds of deliberation from him, he shook his head.

Though his face was burning bright red, and he didn’t dare look at you as he did it, he wrapped his strong arm around your entire leg, pulling his body closer to you. He shakingly opened up his legs and slotted your leg between them, letting his red tip rub against the material of the skirt. The moment he felt the texture of your skirt on his cock, rubbing against it, he whimpered, tightening his grip on your leg.

Slowly he moved his hips, rutting his cock up and down your leg, leaving little trails of pre-cum on the material. Your hand grasped his hair, holding his head to ensure he wouldn’t pull away from your leg. He picked up speed, thrusting his cock into your leg with need as his climax built again. He was now letting out loud groans, panting against your leg as his arm clasped it. Truly, he was a puppy. For all of his intelligence, his power over other people, you could still render him speechless, humping your leg desperately to cum. No better than a dog. He pushed his cock as hard as he could against your leg, letting the material of it stimulate him further and further.

He finally let out a few more staggering gasps, his jaw slacking as his chest heaved as he came, his body falling forward from the intensity of the orgasm, making his body shake. The ropes of cum splattered all over your skit and onto your polished books, marking them as you pulled your leg away from Laszlo.

He fell to the floor, his strong arm barely capturing him in time before his face collided with the floor.

“Look, Las, you’ve ruined my boot,” you complain, pushing your book before his face, making him look at the beads of cum slowly running down them. “Such a messy puppy. You need to clean them up, pup.”

At once, Laszlo got to work. He leant down so that his ass stuck in the air as he flicked out his tongue and ran it up your boot, licking up one bead of cum. You let your hands rest on your hip as you watched him, telling him you expected the whole thing to be sparkling by the time he was done. Laszlo worked diligently, running his tongue along the leather, lapping at it with kitten licks as he occasionally looked up at you with those fuck me eyes, showing you what a good job he was doing. When his eyes glanced up, showing off his long eyelashes as he continued to lick your boot, you wanted to push him over and ride him right on the floor, but you weren’t one to go back on your word. You needed to see that he had licked your boot clean.

It took him five minutes till he finally pulled away from your boot to let you inspect it. He knelt back on his legs, resuming his begging position to wait for you to finish inspecting your boot. He had done a good job, ensuring he had licked every part of your boot, even the parts that hadn’t been splatted with cum to ensure it was all clean.

“There, that’s a good pup,” you coo, cupping the side of his face and stroking your thumb along his beard. Laszlo smiled shyly as he looked at you, his cheeks burning a rosy colour, happy with your praise. Seeing how pleased your pup looked made your heart melt, and all thought left your mind apart from the fact you wanted to ride that perfect cock, right now. You leant down, your fingers trailing under his chin to force his head up, capturing him in a hungry kiss. You bit the bottom of his lip, tugging at it slightly as your pup moaned, and with your other hand, you placed it on his shoulder and slowly pushed him to the ground.

-

TAGLIST: @i-am-dead-inside-666, @scuttle-buttle, @fictionlandslanddreams, @lieutenantn, @greeneyedblondie44, @lov3vivian, @edencherries, @theartbooshlr, @somethingthatsaysbubbles @rumblelibrary @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @idkwhat-my-name-should-be @bruhlpng @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @foolishroach @droppdeadredd @wonderwoman292 @nyx2021 @hb8301 @ffiitz @justicex101 @belle82devart

Niki had won first place, just narrowly beating James to the position, and due to it, he was acting extra cocky. Flashing his trophy around, smirking at James, saying he was the better driver out of the two of them. Not only that, but lots of girls were fawning over him due to it, and he wasn’t exactly pushing them away.

You were waiting at the side of a garage when he appeared and stamped up to him, glaring at the other women who surrounded him. You gripped the back of his racing suit as a warning and flashed the girls a fake smile.

“Well, thank you for keeping my husband occupied, but for now I need to speak to him in private,”

You could tell the girls weren’t happy at this, but you didn’t give them a moment to complain as you pulled your husband away and into an empty garage, closing the door behind you. What you weren’t aware of, however, was James Hunt nearby, who had watched how you had grasped Niki, and with his curiosity spiked, he headed to the garage the two of you had disappeared into.

“Y/l,” Niki complained as you pulled him along to the back of the garage, “I was just having fun, it wasn’t anything serious.”

You reached an empty table before you and shoved Niki against it, his back hitting the edge of it and making him grimace. “You have been purposely trying to get on my nerves every week, and you are very well aware of that fact,”

You could see the way his lips twitched up for the slightest second, but he tried to keep it hidden, tilting his head curiously. “I’ve done no such thing,” he tried to argue. “Now come on, love, you should celebrate me, maybe give me a quickie, huh,” he said, his eyes narrowingly cheekily as he waved the trophy he had won before you.

You snatch the trophy out of his hand and toss it to the floor. Niki’s eyebrows furrowed, and he opened his lips to complain, but you speak over him, making him shut up.

“Well, congratulations, you’ve been a right dick because of it, so I think a punishment is just deserving,” you tell him, letting go of his suit to reach into the handbag you had hung on your shoulder, and Niki’s eyes widened as he saw how you pulled out a strap on.

“Now, are you going to be a good boy and take your punishment?”

Niki swallowed, his cheeks blushing as he looked at you.

“Well, I-I-”

“Niki,” you warn in a stern voice.

“... Yes, Madam,”

“Do you want help with your punishment?” a voice echoed from behind you, making you quickly snap around to see James appear, his arms crossed as he smirked at Niki. Instantly Niki’s eyes burned with rage as he snarled, “James,”

James simply chuckled at Niki’s hostility and continued to step forward, raising his hand to grasp Niki’s chin and force him to look James in the eyes.

“You have always been quite cute when angry,”

“Fuck off,”

“Mmm and such a dirty mouth, all the things I could do with that,”

“Jealous because I won?” Niki bragged, trying to shake off James’s hand from his chin.

“A fluke, you know I’ll always be the better racer,”

“In your dreams,”

You glanced between the two of them curiously. You could see how angry Niki was with James, simply touching him, but the energy and tension between them was enough to make you flustered and that you didn’t want to give up.

“I would love some help. Niki, will you let James help with your punishment?”

Niki turned to look at you, shock written all over his face, to the point where he was at a loss for words. Annoyed by his silence, James moves his hand from Niki’s chin to his neck, squeezing it lightly but enough to make Niki’s face go red.

“She asked you a question; it is polite to answer,”

Niki glares between the two of you before letting his eyes finally rest on yours again, seeing your excitement at the prospect

“Fine,”

He barely got to finish his word before he was flipped over and pushed onto the table by James,l his ass hanging off one side and his head falling off the other side. He let out a huff of surprise by the sudden change and brought his hands to prop himself up on the table. Still, James, who had moved to the other side of the table facing Niki, picked up his hands and, using a piece of wire he had found on the floor, tied Niki’s hands tightly together, so they were stuck under his chest as he laid on the table.

“There isn’t that better,” he says, patting Niki’s cheek, who death glares at him.

“No, it isn’t,” Niki growls, unable to help himself but doesn’t say anymore as he suddenly gasps as he feels your hands reach for his race suit and with ease rip it open, exposing his back and ass to the cold air of the garage. You ran your hand down his back, along his spine, making him arch it at the contact, and then gave that sensitive ass of his a squeeze, delighting in the shudder from his body. You have always loved having Niki in this position, doggy style, before you. The man always said how much of a sensitive ass he had, and he was right. You loved to look down on it and on all the moles that littered his back as you slammed into him repeatedly.

You reached back into your handbag after slipping the strap on over your clothes and reached for a bottle of lube that you had stored for occasions like this. You poured some over two of your fingers and then dripped some on Niki’s asshole, watching the way his body jolted in surprise.

Slowly you took your two fingers and pressed it up against his ass, and thanks to the lube, it took little pushing before the tips of them slipped into his warm ass, making Niki groan at the sudden intrusion.

“Scheiße,” he moaned as he felt the fingers slip in further, slowly pushing him open. He closed his eyes to focus on it when you pressed your fingers against that spot. It made him cry, and his whole body jolt from the surge of pleasure sent straight to his cock that hung off the edge of the table, quickly hardening.

He only opened his eyes when he felt something hit his cheek. As soon as he did, he tried to pull himself away, seeing James’s hardening cock hanging before him, the sweaty smell being rancid.

“Looks like I finally get to shut this mouth up," James exclaims, slapping the side of Niki's face with his cock while Niki glared daggers at him. “Yes, but you miss out on this lovely ass," you remind him, squeezing Niki’s cheeks and pushing your fingers further into him, making him quiver.

“Open up,” James demanded to Niki, and for a moment, Niki wanted to retort back, to spit at James, to do something, feeling disgusted that Jame’s cock was before him, but you then removed your fingers.

“If you don’t want to, I guess I can leave you lying here, ass empty cock hard with nothing to satisfy you,”

Panic surged through Niki, feeling his ass throb from suddenly being abandoned, and the thought of being left there unable to satisfy him was enough for him to open his mouth for James begrudgingly. James didn’t even hesitate to push his cock into Niki’s mouth, instantly making him gag. The warm wetness of Niki’s mouth satisfied James immensely, who wrapped his hand in Niki’s curls, using that to push Niki’s mouth down on his cock as he watched you bring your now lubed up strap on to Niki’s ass.

“Isn’t that better, unable to make any remarks,” James says, delighting in seeing the way Niki’s lips stretched around his cock, hearing Niki chock when he pushed himself even further down Niki’s throat. Slowly, he set a pace of thrusting Niki on his cock, delighting in all the noises that came from the fact that Niki had an overbite.

Niki could feel the way James rammed against the back of his throat, and it made him groan around the cock, but when he felt the large strap on press against his asshole, the breath got caught in his throat, and he accidentally sucked on James cock as he gasped which in turn made James moan from the feeling.

Though you couldn’t hear it, he moaned as he felt the strap on push into his ass, stretching him open and filling him. You had grasped his hips to keep his lower body still as it hung there, and with that, you slowly pushed in till Niki had taken all of your strap on in his ass. You loved watching the way his rim stretched open for you, eagerly taking everything you had to give to him though it made Niki shudder. You waited a bit to let him get used to it, then pulled out slightly just to slam back down on Niki, pushing him forward onto James’s cock.

“Fuck, do that again. That felt good,” James groaned, his fighters pulling at Niki’s hair, which was now drenched in sweat. You did just that, delivering sharp thrusts into Niki, pushing his body forward on the table so that his face was pressed into James’s crotch with every movement. You and James spit-roasted Niki, moving within him simultaneously, leaving him no chance to try and recover from either feeling of being filled.

Spit from his mouth leaked out the side of his lips as James rutted into him. He tried to swallow, but that just made his throat constrict around James, edging James to push into his throat further. James brought his spare hand down to Niki’s throat and laughed as he felt his cock through it. He squeezed it lightly, watching the way Niki’s body spasmed.

“What a slut, slobbering all over my dick. Your throat feels so good. I can’t believe I haven’t fucked it before. Fuck, I can feel myself through your throat, bet you haven’t sucked cock as good as mine before,”

Niki glared up at James, wanting to punch the man in, but all he could do was moan around his cock as you slammed into his prostate.

You angled your hips to hit that spot as often as possible as one of your hands let go of his hip to reach down and grasp his cock, pumping the sensitive thing. Niki’s body instantly jolted, pushing his hips back and sucking in your strap on more as pleasure surrounded him. His chest heaving as he breathed through his nose, his legs twitching from the sensation and his tied hands thrashing on the table as he felt his climax grow nearer.

You and James continued to spit roast Niki, overwhelming him with pleasure at both ends till he was a sobbing mess, crying out around James’s cock as he reached his tipping point. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he came hard, his ass clutching your strap on tightly as his cum shot over your hand and the floor as his legs shook. His throat tightened around James’s cock as he came, earning a moan from James as he was close. As Niki recovered from his orgasm, James picked up his speed in his throat, making Niki gag around his cock as he sought after his own pleasure. After a few more harsh thrusts, he pulled Niki’s face into his crotch as he came down Niki’s throat, making him chock on his cum.

He wouldn’t let go of Niki until he had swallowed all of it. “Get a taste of victory,” James had said. When he finally did, Niki let out a series of coughs, his entire face bright red as he tried to recover from choking.

You lazily thrust into Niki a few more times, watching the way his body moved and the little rat-like squeaks he gave out from overstimulation till you finally pulled out of his ass, watching how the rim throbbed.

“Thank you for letting me help with Niki’s punishment. If you ever need another helping hand, please call me up,” James says as he pushes his cock back into his suit.

“Oh, I will. Niki seems to really enjoy you,” you say, smirking as you glance at who was still glaring at James as he breathed raggedly.

“It’s good for him to see his place beneath me finally,” James says, glancing one last time at Niki before leaving.

You slowly made your way over to Niki, running your fingers through his hair and forcing his head up to look at you as he panted.

“I hope you learnt your lesson today, boy,”

He nodded, swallowing before speaking, “Yes, madam, I did.”

-

Tag list: @i-am-dead-inside-666, @scuttle-buttle, @fictionlandslanddreams, @lieutenantn, @greeneyedblondie44, @lov3vivian, @edencherries, @theartbooshlr, @somethingthatsaysbubbles @rumblelibrary @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @idkwhat-my-name-should-be @bruhlpng @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @foolishroach @droppdeadredd @wonderwoman292 @nyx2021

Doctor Laszlo Kreizler is hardly a revered man. Nevertheless, he strives only to provide the best treatment that he can to his patients, no matter their ills, no matter how much is known or unknown about their conditions.

Somnambulism… that would fall under the latter category.

When you arrived at the Institute, there was no doubt in Doctor Kreizler’s mind that your sleepwalking would be of the more manageable kind. He was sure that a locked room at the far end of the Institute, away from the children’s quarters and in the general proximity of the Doctor’s office, would suffice to keep everyone safe. How wrong he had been.

Not that you are a dangerous thing in waking life; far from it. You are entirely too sweet, in fact. Although you are perhaps a bit timid in his presence, your keen understanding of the ways of the world and genial disposition are admirable, as far as the Doctor is concerned. But what intrigues him most about you is how entirely different you are in your sleep. Your unconscious mind, it seems, is much more tortured than your conscious would ever let on.

He doesn’t normally tend to treat adults at the Institute, but had deemed it necessary in order to form a true understanding of your condition. Your symptoms had been described to him before he took on your case, of course. Rising from your bed in the night, acting out night terrors in which you seemed to be the aggressor, oftentimes beating against yourself or immobile objects until your knuckles are bloody. Other times, leaving your bed to attack an unsuspecting person in your vicinity.

A person such as Laszlo had been, alone in his office one particular night. He somehow hadn’t heard you enter, as his back was turned to the door- this he was also warned about, not only by yourself but by members of your family. “Stalks through rooms completely silent, you can’t even hear her come in. She’s like a ghost, isn’t there one minute and then poof! She’s on you.”

On you. Yes, you were on him, but not exactly as he’d imagined you would be. He imagined a bludgeoning, some kind of a blunt object in your hands from where you had felt your way down the hallway like the living dead. He expected you to knock him down and beat him half to oblivion.

He didn’t expect your hands on his neck.

Impressive, though, how strong you are when unconscious. Your pain receptors are turned off and what remains is brutal, untapped force. A vice closed around his stiff collar like a hangman’s noose, cutting off his air, making him fall back into his chair. Your eyes were wide and unfocused, but dark, so dark, and when you climbed into his lap your white linen nightgown bunched around your thighs enough that he could see the bruises from where you’d beaten yourself in your sleep the night before.

You would feel it in the morning, as you always do; pulled muscles and charley horses and bruises and scrapes all pile up after a while. But Laszlo was unable to consider the repercussions of fighting you off, while your hands threatened to nearly crush his windpipe. He cursed his weak arm- not uncommon, of course, but especially for moments like this one- as he had no real way to break your hold on him. So he did the only other thing he knew to do.

His stronger hand skid across your scalp, fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of your neck and clenching around them. He yanked your head back, making a snarl rip from your throat (the first sound you’d made since entering his office, in fact). He pulled and pulled until, at last, your grip around his throat slackened.

But your hips. They canted forward against his, and quite suddenly this was not merely an act of violence anymore.

He didn’t know at what point he became aroused by it all. Just that he was. Just that, when your pelvis ground against his in the shadow between your bodies, and your rabid snarl morphed into something like a moan, he was there with you. And he wasn’t sure that he wanted you to stop.

Reason won over in the end. With one more yank on your hair you toppled back off his lap and onto the ground at his feet. And he dragged you, kicking and screaming, back to your room by the roots of your hair.

He made sure that the door was locked before he returned to his office. But there, in the low gaslamp light, he sat in near catatonic silence with his eyes fixed on the glistening wet stain on the front of his trousers. The stain which was not his.

“Hypnos was the Greek God of sleep. His mother, Nyx, was the Goddess of the night. His father, Erebus, was the God of darkness. Hypnos resided in a dark cave where no light was cast, not by the sun, nor moon.”

The speech gets more tiresome the more often he says it. It feels a bit like reciting a bedtime story, and ironically, it is necessary to put you to sleep. ‘Sleep,’ in this case, being in a looser sense than what you are accustomed to.

When you had woken in the morning, predictably, you had no recollection of the events the night before. Your head ached, you said. Your hands were sore and overworked, your throat raw. The Doctor had requested that you come by his office after breakfast, as he wanted to try a new treatment, hypnosis, to see if he could assuage your nightly symptoms.

Here you are. You are a touch short of breath. Your eyes are closed, though you sit with your back rigidly straight in a chair, dressed in a grey day dress provided to you by the Institute. Your hands have bruises on them, similar to the ones on Laszlo’s neck. He reaches towards where one rests on the arm of the chair.

“Feel your hand,” he whispers to you, and when he gently holds your wrist, you do not flinch away. “Your hand feels heavy. But slowly, it begins to feel insubstantial. Light, lighter, floating upwards, as light as a feather.”

When he lets your wrist go, you hold your hand aloft for a moment. Then slowly, as if you are not controlling it at all, it lowers back down to rest on your lap.

Good. You are in a suggestive state now. Asleep, but not dreaming. Awake, but unaware. That is all he needs.

“When you sleep, where do you go?” He asks you quietly.

No hesitation. “Hell.”

He runs a hand over his jaw. In order for this to work, he’ll have to be more specific with his questions. He begins to pace around you, lowering his voice further. “Go to this place. What does Hell look like?”

“It changes. It’s dark. Sometimes… wet. Hot.” Though your voice is merely a quiet drone compared to what it is when you are alert, he hears a wobble in it. “I am... attacked. But I always fight. And I always fail.”

He contemplates your words. “When you go to this Hell… what do you feel?”

“Afraid,” you tell him. “I’m frightened. Of everything.”

A smile twitches at his lips. When he leans over the back of your chair so that his head is level with yours, his downcast eyes glimpse the heavy rise and fall of your breast. It transfixes him for a moment. “Are you frightened now?”

This time, you do hesitate. Then, as though you are seeing something truly horrifying behind your eyelids, your breath hitches. “Yes.”

“The symptoms of fear are biologically identical to that of arousal,” he whispers in your ear, and he sees you quiver for half a second. “Your heart races. Your breath quickens. You grow hot, and you shiver.” Watching your body, he sees you demonstrate each of his words with exact precision. “But now, when you feel this fear… you become aware of another feeling. A heat growing deep in your belly. Between your legs. Can you feel it?”

He can nearly feel the heat he speaks of radiating from your body. Your voice is breathier than normal. “Yes.”

“That feeling… it grows. It pulses. Go to it. Chase that feeling.” He pauses, his eyes drawn to the sight of your lips parting, as if in awe. “You find, when you chase that feeling, that arousal, your fear is gone. There is no longer a need to be afraid. There is only a need to satiate your arousal.”

You are no longer rigid, though you tremble. A sigh falls from your lips.

“And when you feel that need,” he says with a smile, “you come and find me.”

He does not worry that you make no noise when you enter his office this time. He is waiting.

Your eyes are open, but Laszlo is almost certain that you aren’t seeing him- or, at least, this exact version of him. There is a vacant, glassy quality to them that wasn’t there when he last looked into them, when you opened your eyes after he roused you from the hypnosis and bid him a warm, but slightly confused goodbye, as though you hadn’t known entirely what took place in the session. But they are dark again, shadowed as if possessed by some unholy entity, your pupils blown wide and eclipsing your irises.

You climb into his lap again. This time, your hands are on his face, and he allows his own to capture your chin, his weaker one sliding up your thigh, beneath the bunching of your nightgown.

“There she is,” he coos, his eyes searching your face for the rage he’d witnessed the night before, but finding only what he replaced it with. Desire. And all of it directed at him, as you part your lips to suck on his prodding thumb. A satisfied hum escapes him as he feels the swirling of your tongue on his skin, and his mind swims with what else that mouth can do, when he’s more complaisent and willing to take his time with you.

He draws you to his lips, and feels you feeding all that passion from before into your kiss. Your mouth is infernally hot, and if he were a religious man, he might wonder if you hold some sort of hellfire licking flames within you. Your skin, which is just as hot, if not more, nearly burns his hand as it dips beneath your skirt to cup your sex, to feel how you drip in your frustration and need. You whimper against his lips.

“Oh, you can’t feel pain, but you can feel this?” He flexes his hand, driving the base of his palm a bit harder against the mound of your sex, his fingers finding the wet invitation of your entrance and almost deigning to push in. But as you instinctively grind down onto his hand, a sweet little whine squeaking from your throat, he decides that he won’t be giving you his fingers.

Not this time.

“My darling girl. Let your Doctor take care of you.” Laszlo’s words are strangled, but it doesn’t matter. He wonders if you can hear him, or if he’s just talking to air, to himself. He would give every penny to his name to know what you are seeing behind those eyes of yours, flickering across his face in the imitation of waking, as if seeing his features in the dim light.

His hand falls to his belt, his fingers wet with your arousal and slipping against the metal as he prys himself free of his confines. He is achingly hard and throbbing, his hips nearly bucking up off the seat to meet yours in anticipation of what’s to come. Your heat, your lust. To feel what he has moulded you into.

He may be the one who guides himself to your entrance, but isn’t it you who sinks yourself upon his cock? Isn’t it you who rolls your hips before he’s even adjusted to how impossibly tight you are on him, a groan issuing from behind his teeth as the air is punched from his lungs?

Your head rolls back on your shoulders as you let out an airy moan, a sigh of relief. You’re too greedy for your own good, jamming yourself down onto his cock like you want for all the world to devour him alive.

Laszlo’s hand raises to cup your exposed neck, his thumb tilting your chin down so that your eyes meet his, for what it’s worth. “Slow,” he growls, his voice rumbling in his chest in a way that he, himself, has never heard before. He can’t have you hurting yourself in this way, waking up to a sore cunt and bruised cervix. He’d have a hard time explaining that one away as you merely fucking yourself.

To his surprise, you follow his directions. He tilts his head as you steady the rolling of your hips, taking a long pull back before sinking onto him again, as if savoring the way his cock plunges into you and drags out with your movement.

“Kiss me,” he says, and you do not hesitate to latch onto his mouth, your tongue brushing his as though you’ve done so a million times before. It seems as though you are still powerless to his suggestion in this state, your subconscious willing to do as he says when he says it.

“Very good, drágám,” he whispers to you when you break away, whimpering and gasping as your walls start to pulse around his shaft, and he has to swallow back a visceral groan at the overwhelming sensation of it. “That’s right. Use me to bring yourself pleasure. I know how you crave it.”

Your eyes flutter shut and your mouth falls open with a needy moan as your orgasm crashes over you, your hips stuttering with the force of your muscles tightening on his cock, as if you don’t want to let go. He imagines, somewhere in that pretty little head of yours, that you don’t. Your hands clamp down on his shoulders, nails digging in until he’s sure he’ll see half moon imprints on his skin when he undresses.

It takes all of Laszlo’s willpower not to spill inside of you. In fact, he curses as he guides you off of him, your cunt still pulsing invitingly as he slips from you and covers his cock with his hand. The gush of his release is intense, a drawn out moan passing through his lips and into the stale air as ropes of come paint his palm and fingers. He can’t remember the last time his orgasm was so intense.

His eyes fall to the front of your night dress, your chest heaving before him. How he wishes he could undo the two buttons that hold the cream colored fabric in place, hiding your breasts from view. How he wants to lave his tongue across your nipples (so hard and erect, as they press out at him through the fabric). How he wants to lift you onto his desk and take and take and take, until he comes so deep inside you that you’ll be sure to have his child. How he wants to breed you, again and again, his sweet little toy of his own design.

Well, there’s always tomorrow night.

He lifts his hand to your lips, and says, “Lick,” and you do. He watches in awe as you clean his come from his fingers, your tongue flattening against his palm and swallowing every drop that you’ve pulled from him. And when you’ve finished, he lightly pats the curve of your hip, and calls you a good girl as you blink at him with your dark, unfocused eyes, like you’re waiting for your next command.

Perhaps, one day, if he plays his cards just right, your eyes may not be so vacant after he fucks you.

“You’ve done so well for me, drágám,” he tells you finally, a bit short of breath. “Go now, back to your room.”

And you do. He misses the heat of your body as soon as it’s away from him, and he wants only for you to come back, even as he tucks his softened cock back into his trousers.

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