#napoleon solo x reader

[drmaddict]

Better Half

Summary: Napoleon's better half is not what anyone would have expected and yet it is exactly what one should expect.

Warnings: none

Word count: 448

"I know someone," Napoleon said, taking a sip of his drink.

Illya looked at him emotionlessly. "Those are top-secret KGB files. Not even I had access to them."

"Jealous that I might know more?" he grinned at him and winked teasingly.

"It's impossible."

"That word doesn't exist in their vocabulary."

"And who is this mysterious gentleman supposed to be?" asked Waverly. "A friend from...the art trade?"

Napoleon shook his head. "SHE deals in other merchandise...information. There's nothing she can't get her hands on." He smiled into his glass. "If there's one thing I've learned from her, it's that a room is never truly empty."

Illya rolled his eyes. "We don't have time to waste on an untrustworthy affair."

Napoleon looked at him piercingly. "I wouldn't suggest her if I didn't trust her."

Waverly tapped a pencil thoughtfully on the tabletop in front of him. "And what makes you so sure?"

"If she wasn't trustworthy, I wouldn't have married her.", he replied simply. "Albeit under a different name." he shrugged and downed the rest of his drink as the rest of the gathering stared at him in bewilderment.

________________________________________________________________

They were sitting in a ramshackle motel. Only Napoleon remained standing, meticulously keeping away from all the furniture. Dust layed thick on the small dresser next to the bed, whose springs had also seen better days and squeaked happily when Gabby changed her position.

The door opened silently, although that shouldn't be possible with the rusted hinges. A small figure entered the room. She wore a worn flat cap, a too-long brown coat, and baggy pants topped off with a pair of scuffed brown leather shoes.

At first glance, anyone would have seen a fourteen-year-old paperboy. It was only when the figure removed their cap that the too-long hair became apparent. Napoleon moved toward her with elegant steps and took off her coat.

"Still quite the gentleman." she grinned at him.

"When am I not?" he asked teasingly.

"Oh I can think of a few situations.", she returned just as teasingly before reaching into her waistband and pulling out a piece of paper. "You know the drill. I was never here and this piece of paper never existed." She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll see you where there are no stars."

"On the fifth of May?" he asked.

"Sounds good." She tugged playfully at his tie, destroying the symmetry of the elaborate knot, before disappearing from the small room as quickly as she had come.

"Cute." said Gabby as Napoleon held out the small note to her.

"What's her name?" asked Illya.

Napoleon grinned with a soft expression around his eyes. "That ist something noone really knows.“

[ellethespaceunicorn]

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

Title: I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader

Fandom: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: Napoleon wines and dines.

Warnings: barely any 60s references so if you were looking for that I'm sorry, incorrect table manners, a little bit of Daddy kink, unprotected p-in-v because these are fictional characters

A/N: The title is taken from the song “I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl” by Nina Simone. Literally the naughtiest and sweetest title at the exact same time. A very sexy song, if you have never heard it, do yourself a favor!!! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist 

“What is a lovely little rose like you doing all alone in a place like this?” 

The voice startles you as you sip your espresso at the corner cafe. Of course, being alone in a cafe had its downsides. This wasn’t the first time you were approached here. This wasn’t the first time you were approached today, even. You look up to see who the voice belongs to and you almost drop your teeny cup.

The jawline alone had your panties in a cinch. But the eyes, those are what draw you in. The blue of his eyes was like out of a painting, and you could hardly say you’d ever seen anyone with a tiny golden-brown spot in their left eye. Was that his only flaw? From here, it appeared so. The suit he wore was perfectly tailored. His shoes were shiny like a new penny. You were shaken from your ogling by his voice again.

“Have I passed inspection, Miss…?” You give your name and he tests it out on his tongue. “A beautiful name for a beautiful rose,” With a flick of his wrist, a gorgeous and very real rose appears in his hands and he hands it to you.

You sputter out a laugh as you reach for the rose. He tilts his head as he watches you lift the flower to your nose, inhaling its sweet scent. He walks around the table and sits across from you, almost daring you to tell him to get lost. But, of course, you don’t. You are delighted to see where this may lead.

“So, what is a man dressed so well doing talking to a girl like me? Surely, you must be on your way to some type of important, or at least, fancy meeting?” You sit back, eyeing the man whose name you still haven’t caught.

“I’ll let you in a little secret. I’ve seen you here before. I know you go to the local college and after class, you like to stop here for an espresso before boarding a train back to wherever it is that you live. You’ll be happy to know I have not followed you back to your home. But, sometimes you get a sweet treat. A cinnamon roll on Mondays, perhaps a cherry and cheese danish on Wednesdays, but on Fridays? You spring for something devilish.” He ends his sentence just as your slice of devil’s food cake is set in front of you by the waiter.

“You really have been watching me. A girl with a different head on her shoulders may be nervous knowing she’s being watched. But, you don’t scare me,” you smile at him and start to dig into your cake, “If anything, I’d love to know why you find me so interesting. I mean, there are girls here with shorter skirts than mine.”

“The skirt wasn’t exactly what I was after,” his eyes linger on your mouth as your fork slowly glides back out of it, “Company. That’s mostly what I’m after. Your company. Not theirs.”

“I don’t even know your name, Mr…” You eagerly wait to hear the mysterious man’s name.

“I’ll give you my name, but I’ll need a promise that I may cook you dinner. No dinner, no name. And we act like this little conversation never happened,” he licks his lips, watching you watching him, “So, what do you say, my little rose? Will I introduce myself or will I walk off, doomed to enjoy dinner alone?”

You set down your fork, suddenly uninterested in the last bite of your cake. But instead of pushing the plate to the side, you run your pointer finger through a bit of the icing left behind. Raising your hand and pushing your chair back, you saunter over to the man’s chair. Sitting in his lap, much to the chagrin of the other couples on the terrace. You wipe the icing on his bottom lip. Leaning in while keeping eye contact, you lick away the chocolate until you take his bottom lip between your teeth. His eyes close for but a second and the slightest grunt escapes between his lips and into your mouth.

“I believe I’ve made my intentions clear but I’ll make sure they are crystal. I’m not some delicate flower, I can handle myself. And as handsome and mysterious as you are, if you try anything I don’t feel comfortable with, I’ll handle you as well. We have an understanding, I presume?” 

“You presume correctly. And please, I didn’t call you a poppy or a tulip. You’re a rose. A beautiful flower, but the thorns are treacherous. I’ll make sure you keep those at bay.”

“You owe me a name, pretty boy.” You insist, adjusting your seating in his lap and feeling a hefty bulge underneath you.

“Napoleon Solo.”

“Let’s go, then, Napoleon. I’m famished and I could use something a bit more substantial than that tiny slice of cake.”

Napoleon rises, his hands on your hips as he sets you on your feet. He waits for you to pick up your belongings, walks around the table, and grabs your hand to lead you off the terrace. He walks you to his car, opening the door for you to get in. This was your last chance to change your mind, but, you were having way too much fun.

You ride to his apartment building, and a valet takes the keys to his car before he opens the door for you to exit. A swanky place where it looks like the only people who can afford to stay here must have Esquire or some kind of title attached to their name. You decide to toss caution to the wind because it isn’t like you are staying here. It’s Napoleon who is, and you are is his guest.

You take the elevator up, making out with the tall and gorgeous stranger. The elevator rises as well as his hand up your skirt. Just as his hand reaches the top of your thigh, the elevator signals your arrival on the fourth floor. Napoleon takes your hand and leads you to Apartment 412. He unlocks the door and lets you enter first.

“So, my little rose, I was thinking for dinner I will make us Beef Bourguignon. And for dessert, what say we make it up as we go along?”

“As long as you don’t expect me to do all the cooking, I’m happy to sit back and eat and be merry, Napoleon.”

“Perfect, my little rose. Feel free to make yourself a drink, and do turn on some music. I do better with a bit of background noise.” 

You busy yourself with making an Old Fashioned, finding everything at your fingertips and ready to go. You take a sip and groan inwardly as the bourbon warms your insides. You walk from the little makeshift bar into the kitchen and offer Napoleon a sip. He applauds your drink-making skills and ushers you back out to the record player as he dons an apron and begins to cook.  

You busy yourself with looking at records while soon the smells of sauteed beef reach your nostrils. You only refresh your drink once while listening to Nina Simone Sing the Blues. Her dulcet tones woo you as the bourbon in your drink loosens you up. You don’t notice that you are being watched as Napoleon walks over and fixes himself a White Russian.

He watches as you sway and sing along with Nina. It’s only a matter of time before the timer in the kitchen sounds and he leaves you to your enjoyment of the music. He makes your plates, sets the table, and lights the few candles that sit therein. He pours you both a glass of pinot noir. His last step is to come and beckon you to your dinner. He does so by sidling up behind you and placing his hands gently on your shoulders as his lips dip down to your ears.

“Dinner’s ready, my little rose.” He takes your hand and leads you to the table, pulling your chair out for you in a gesture that wasn’t necessary but is quite romantic. If you weren’t already a bit light-headed from the Old Fashioned, that would have done it!

“Napoleon, this smells amazing. Are you sure you didn’t have some minions in the kitchen helping you to prepare this?”

“I promise, it was just me. Try it, tell me if it needs anything.”

You take a bite of the aromatic beef stew and it melts in your mouth. You can’t exactly help the satisfied groan that escapes your lips, much to the enjoyment of Napoleon.

“I take it you like it then?” The smug smile looks good on him, damn that man.

“Oh, I like it, Mr. Solo. You sure know your way to this woman’s heart. And that is through her stomach.”

He raises his glass of wine, and you raise yours as well. “To my little rose, may she only leave here satisfied. In every which way she chooses to be.”

You clink your glass against his and take a sip, knowing full well that you are going to sleep with this man before the night is over. Or at least, you hope to. You’d like to see what his face looks like in the throes of passion. And there is nothing sexier than a man who knows how to engage all of your senses in one meal.

You finish dinner and wipe your mouth, feeling for all the world like a stuffed pig. You were happy and you were tipsy and you wanted Napoleon to know just how grateful you were. But weren’t you promised dessert?

“So, dessert then?” You ask. 

“You stay seated, I’ll get these out of the way before we start on dessert.” Napoleon wipes his own mouth and comes to collect your plates and take them to the kitchen. When he comes back to the table, he easily pulls your chair back and lifts you easily onto the dining room table. At your look of confusion, he smirks yet again. “Did I not tell you that I would be enjoying you as dessert, my little rose?”

“No, I don’t believe you mentioned that. But, I do believe we both will enjoy that. Do your worst,  Mr. Solo.” You position your thighs for Napoleon to remove your panties. He sits in your chair, pulling himself up to the table and setting your legs over his shoulders. 

He kisses your thighs slowly until you are whimpering for him to take you out of your misery. He obliges by pulling your ass to the very edge of the table and using the flat of his tongue to lick a strip up your sex. An inhuman sound exits your mouth and you have absolutely no fucks to give at this point. 

“You taste like Heaven, my little rose,” he kisses your swollen nub and looks up at you, “but how do you feel?” He uses a single finger to circle your button a couple of times before drawing a line to your entrance. He enters your core slowly and his finger is a perfect fit. Not too much, not too little. Just enough to start to open you up. He starts to kiss and suck at your clit until your hand finds purchase in his chestnut locks. He lets you pull him down into your pussy, savoring every little spasm of your canal. 

Before long, a second and a third finger join the first and your moans bounce off of the walls. With one curve of his fingers, he finds your inner bundle of nerves and you reward him with a squeezing of your cunt and the melody of your orgasm. He licks up every drop of your nectar off you, and as he pulls out his fingers, he sucks them dry as well.

He stands, unbuttoning his slacks and fisting his cock while looking at your sweet blissed-out little face. “Can my little rose take some more dessert?”

“Yes, Daddy, please?” You whine, wrapping your legs around Napoleon’s waist and drawing him closer.

“That’s my good little rose,” he praised, lining himself up and entering you swiftly, “Ohhhhh, you take me so well. Best dessert I’ve ever had.”

He leans down to kiss you as he pulls out slightly and slams back in, swallowing your moans. Holding your face in his hands, he begins a steady rhythm inside you and hits your spots as if you had created his dick in a lab in some odd science experiment.

Soon, he drags orgasm after orgasm out of you until all you can say is Daddy and Yes. An endless stream of nonsensical noises comes out as well, but Napoleon is all too happy to commit those to memory while not commenting on them. He just continues to pound into you mercilessly, chasing his own release now that your juices cover the front of his slacks.

“Are you ready for Daddy to fill you?” He asks, a bruising hold on your hips as he plows into you.

“Yes, Daddy, yes!” You gasp, tears falling down your cheeks as you are overstimulated.

“Fuuuuuck, such a good little rose!” He exclaims as his hips settle flush against yours. 

You can feel every twitch of his dick as he empties inside you. You watch as the sweat from his brow drips down his temple as his eyes close. You hear his breathing pick up as he tries to steady himself. The heady scent of sex in the air intoxicates you. You grab him by the tie and pull him down to kiss you. All five senses are ablaze with Napoleon Solo.

Your hand through his hair is what allows him the strength to open his eyes again. He looks at you as though you hung the moon. He remains inside you as he slots his lips against yours before resting in the crook of your neck.

“Gotta love a man that cooks. You can always stuff me twice.” You laugh, not being able to stop yourself from accidentally pushing Napoleon out of you.

“Really? A joke right now?” He laughs, standing to his full height and looking down to see his spend leaking out of you.

“I couldn’t help myself, Mr. Solo. It just…came to me.”

“I bet, my little rose.” He helps you down from the table and ushers you to the bathroom as he cleans the rest of the table up.

You clean yourself up and meet Napoleon back in the living room as he sits on the couch. You enjoy listening to some more music and having a few more drinks with him, forgetting all about your train home. 

You wanted a little sugar in your bowl, after all. And you got it and then some. This man was sweet enough to give you cavities ten times over and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry

[@mayloma @littlefreya I tagged you both because of the reblogs earlier lol]

**Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list and for what plz  😁**

[delicate-moon-princess]

His Favorite "Toy" to Use

Hi, everyone! I want to thank you all for 129 followers!! I can’t believe it. Your support has made me feel so inspired 🥹. I really can’t thank you enough. To celebrate this milestone, I thought I could take a shot at writing a sexy headcanon. Enjoy!

His Favorite “Toy” to Use

Warnings: 18+ smut, use of sex toys and other sex accessories, RPF, p in v, tiny bit of fingering, oral (m and f receiving), deepthroating, bdsm aspects, little bit of daddy kink, pet play, humiliation, anal play, corporal punishment, overstimulation, bodily fluids, mild sense deprivation, temperature play (both hot and cold)- Let me know if I forgot anything!

Any typos are my own!

Henry-Rabbit Vibrator

The toy sits in your underwear drawer. And whenever Henry is in the mood to use it, he walks towards the bed while holding it behind his back. 

His grin gives it away, you already know what’s in his hand. Cheeky man.

You lean back against his chest as he sits up against the headboard. His legs keep yours apart as he holds the toy inside you.

He gets a rush from seeing your expression as your clit and g-spot are simultaneously struck by the vibrations. Occasionally, he moves the toy back and forth to heighten the sensation.

“You’re shaking, sweetheart. Does that feel good? Are you gonna cum for me, hm? You’re so beautiful when you cum.” He murmurs in your ear as you gasp.

He drags orgasm after orgasm out of you, making you gush around the silicon plenty of times. He beams in pride as you make the toy and his hand drip with your fluids. Luckily, he always has the foresight to put a towel down.

More characters under the cut…

August-Spreader Bar

The bar fastened to your ankles holds your legs apart. And as opposed to ropes or cuffs, it gives August the perfect handle to toss you around as he pleases.

Sometimes, he just flips you around to savor the dazed, fucked-out look in your eyes. Your expression feeds the feral animal inside him. You're his little ragdoll.

Other times, he loves to stand you up in front of him. Your legs spread wide, he straps a magic wand (his second favorite toy) to your thigh. The vibrating head is pressed to your clit.

The constant, intense buzzing has you dripping. Tears escape your eyes when your arousal coats your thighs and leaks down onto the carpet. Your toes curl as you sob.

“You’re making a mess on Daddy’s floor, princess. What am I to do with such a messy girl?” He clicks his tongue while shaking his head. You’re in for it now.

Sherlock-His Cane

It’s a muiltool. Used for walking, or a weapon if need be. Sherlock’s cane is also the perfect symbol of his immense power and social status. 

And if you’re being mouthy with him, he won't hesitate to punish you with it. After he’s had enough of your attitude, he makes you strip and crawl naked to the bedroom in front of him. 

That’s when you know better than to disobey him, so you just hang your head and crawl. Whenever you slow down to stall your thrashing, the tip of his cane nudges your ass to urge you forward.

“Keep going, little rabbit. Your punishment awaits. Save your tears, you know a naughty pet gets the cane.” He scolds you. Humiliation is always part of your punishment.

He’s excited by the loud sobs you let out whenever his cane whacks your tender bottom. He only stops when there are welts on your throbbing flesh.

Afterwards, he sits on the edge of the bed with your head in his lap as he strokes your hair. When you're done sobbing against his trousers, he gently cares for your wounds like the good husband he is.

Geralt-Gag

He doesn’t need any fancy toys. Geralt has two hands, a mouth, and a cock to please you. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t take joy in hearing you cry from underneath a gag as he slams into your poor body. And when you’re spending the night at an inn and he doesn't want to draw unwanted attention to the two of you, it helps.

It’s usually just a piece of cloth shoved between your teeth and tied behind your head. The fabric presses down onto your tongue, making you drool and gag whenever you try to whine.

It doesn’t muffle you completely. So when you let out an especially loud moan that can be heard despite the gag, his hand comes up to grip your throat.

“Silence yourself…. Before I shove my cock between your lips and do it for you.” He hisses, squeezing your throat hard enough that you get the idea.

It takes great effort not to sob as he fucks you even harder, keeping his hand on your throat as a warning. With his Witcher stamina, he doesn’t tire till the early hours of the morning. After your pulsating cunt has been fucked and filled by him dozens of times.

Sy-Jewel Butt Plug

Sy always makes sure to prep your tight hole with his fingers and plenty of lube before he slips it inside you. A jewel in the shape of a red heart greets him after your hole closes around the plug.

“What a sweet little pucker you got there, darlin’.” He growls, squeezing your ass in his large hands. He spanks you with a cheeky grin.

He plants a kiss right on the gem. His mouth makes the plug shift inside you, which jarrs you enough to squeal softly.

With a pillow under your hips to keep them elevated, Sy fucks you while you lay on you stomach. His large hands keep your cheeks spread, that way he never loses sight of the red jewel cradled in your hole.

He’ll pull out to cum, coating your ass in his thick seed. It drips onto the plug, marking the shiny treasure between your cheeks as his own.

Walter-Rope

This may or may not come as a surprise, but Walter is really into rope play. In the rare free time he has, he often studies the art of shibari. He’s mastered plenty of knots to trap you in. 

Your arms and legs are hogtied behind your back, which is his favorite position to tie you in. He flips you over onto your front and drags your face to the edge of the bed. He uses your immobility as an opportunity to stand in front of you and fuck your throat.

You're drooling and gagging as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure. He keeps one hand in your hair as he watches your movements closely. Always keeping an eye out for your safe signal.

“I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face of yours, and you're going to thank me for it, little slut. Because you’re nothing but a cum hungry whore. That’s it. Cry for it.” He snarls, loving to see tears slip from your eyes.

Walter is adamant about aftercare, especially after hardcore scenes. He’s quick to untie you and massage your tense muscles. 

He gives you water and lathers your raw flesh with some healing cream. His gentle praising and soft kisses ease you back down to reality.

Clark-Feather Tickler

It’s a tiny bit cheesy, sure. But that's just who Clark is; a traditional man. When he first presented you with the feather, he couldn’t stop blushing and grinning like a fool. You’ve never seen him so excited to try something in the bedroom.

He traces the wispy black feather all along your body. Goosebumps rise on your skin. You gasp when he tickles your nipples, making them perk up.

His mouth encloses over one of the hard buds as he trails the feather down your stomach to your pussy. It ghosts over your slit so delicately it makes you ache. You finally whine and beg him for more. He only continues to tease you. 

It makes you so sensitive and needy. You threaten to use it on him next if he doesn’t indulge you soon. Of course, this only makes him want to do it more.

“Is that a promise, sweetheart?” He raises a brow with a playful smirk.

Napoleon-Blindfold

Napoleon wants everything he does to you to be a surprise. So, he cuts off your sense of sight with a silk blindfold. Sometimes, it’s paired with one of his silk ties holding your hands above your head.

To add to the deprivation of your senses, he even spins sensual music on the record player. He keeps the volume low, but it’s just enough for him to sneak around the room without you hearing him.

You don’t hear or see him reach for the bucket of ice holding the bottle of expensive champagne. Letting an ice cube rest between his lips, he leans down to trace his mouth along your neck.

Breathy gasps escape you as he trails the ice down your form. Along your collarbone, over your nipples and down your stomach. He lets the cube rest in your belly button so he can speak.

“I think this hot little pussy of yours needs a cooling down, don’t you think, darling?” He smirks before he takes the ice back in his mouth. You let out a cry when the ice touches your heated cunt.

He spends the night with his head buried between your legs, lapping up the water from the ice and your sweet nectar. Napoleon is a man of fine tastes, and you’re his favorite meal after all.

Charles-Candle Wax

You’re on your stomach as Charles holds the lit candle above your back. The hot wax drips onto your flesh and the initial burn makes you gasp. You’re reduced to whimpers as it cools and hardens. 

The sensation makes you squirm, your arousal leaking onto the bed. He only chuckles and continues to hover the candle above you. Your body jerks when each drip hits you. Wax coats your shoulders, back and ass before he sets it aside.

His fingers wick away a bit of wax. You moan when his cool fingers soothe the mild burns on your skin. One of his hands comes up to massage the back of your neck as he admires the work he did on your back.

When his fingers dip between your legs, you whine. He hums, spreading your moist lips so he can gaze at your glistening folds. He lets out a moan when he collects some of your wetness on his finger.

“You’re absolutely drenched, darling. Do you enjoy the pain? Oh, indeed you do. What a wanton little thing you are, my love.” He whispers in your ear with a smirk, sinking his finger into your aching hole.  

Mike-Vibrating Cockring

He came across it when he was making a snack run at the drugstore. On top of all the chips and candy he got, he also got the cockring. Mike can be a bit…impulsive.

The band makes him last even longer. It also makes him swell up, adding onto what is already a monstrously sized cock. As you ride him, it feels like you’re being impaled by his size.

With each bounce of your hips, the buzzing drums onto your clit. At times, you just grind to savor the feeling. You toss your head back and moan. 

“Look at my girl work for it. So fuckin’ hot when you ride my dick, baby.” He grins, holding your winding hips.

He’s giddy as he watches you whine and grind on him. He gives your ass a swift smack. Seems like for once his impulsiveness paid off.

A/N: I tried to show all our boys equal lovin’ with 150-200ish words each. And I didn’t include all of Henry’s characters opps. Anyways, thank you all so much! I hope you have a good night/day. 🥰

Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212 @sunndust

[mlm-writer]

What You Like (Napoleon Solo x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Dom!Napoleon Solo x Sub!Gender Neutral Reader Rating: Explicit Words: 598 POV: Second Summary: You got a voice kink and Napoleon Solo has a smexy voice. Note: For the prompt ‘voice kink’.  See my kinktober 2022 masterlist here. Reader’s getting fingered in an ambiguous hole. Tags: voice kink, dirty talk, fingering, cumming untouched, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pwp and a dash of aftercare

After two rounds even the great Napoleon Solo needed a break, but that did not stop him from tiring you out completely. His lips were all over your neck and his fingers were deep inside you. With every twist of his fingers, he just barely missed your sweet spot. “You’re such a fucking tease,” you complained. 

His free arm twisted around you and pulled your back against his sweaty chest. “I thought I’d be nice and give you a break, sweetheart,” he replied in your ear, voice a little husky. You could hear the smirk in his every word. His timbre electrified your nerves and you shuddered in his embrace. “Besides, even like this, I believe I can make you cum. Come on, cum.” 

You wanted to disagree, but he was right. Just hearing the words in that sultry voice sent you over the edge. You did not even know how many orgasms you’d already had that night. “That’s right, just keep going, be good for me,” Solo spoke softly into your ear. You moaned in reply, your entire body convulsing and trying to get a break from all the pleasure. “Do you want to taste yourself on my fingers?” You nodded, pleading for him to make you taste it. 

Relief came, when his fingers were pulled out of you, but it was not time to breathe yet. You almost gagged on his big fingers pressing down on your tongue. “Start sucking,” he commanded and you did as you were told. Your mind was hazy, as you sucked on his fingers, while still twitching from your long orgasm. “That’s good, you like tasting yourself on my fingers, don’t you?” You hummed in agreement. “But there is something you like even more than tasting yourself. I think you might even enjoy it more than my cock.” You nodded your head with his fingers still in your mouth. “What is it?” 

He took his fingers out. “Your voice,” you replied the second your mouth was free. His hand came down and slapped you on your sex. You let out a surprised cry. How did even that feel good right now? 

“That’s right. Cum.” And your body just listened, the only stimulation being the lingering sting of his hand. He held you in place with both hands, while your fucked out mind obeyed his every command. “You sound so perfect, when you cum for me,” Solo grunted into your ear, his voice just a little lower than before, “do it again for me. Cum.” You cried out as your body had a mind of its own. Feeling his hand between your legs, intensifying your pleasure felt like both a blessing and a curse. 

You were sobbing by the time your orgasm had passed. He put both arms around you, holding you tight as you sucked in air like you had been stuck in space. A glass of water made it from the bedside table to your lips and you sipped on it until your dry throat felt all right again. “That’s it, you’re fine,” Solo affirmed to you, his face pressed against the side of your head and his lips brushing against your ear with his every word. He rocked your bodies from side to side, letting you relax in his embrace. Once your body was not tight strung like a violin’s bow, the muscular man sagged down, until you were both lying down. You shifted to get a little more comfortable. For now, this was enough, but judging by the hand on your ass, the night was far from over. 

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2022, Day 7: Grooming

My Pet.  Mine.  Forever.

Summary:  Solo will make you perfect for him

Pairings:  Napoleon Solo X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, D/s dynamics, collar, teasing, degradation, dumbification, fingering, cuffs, praise kink, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2.3K

Previous

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

You look up at your professor as he continues his lecture, his bright blue eyes looking around the room, but always ending on you. Seeing the slight quiver of his mouth as he tries not to smile at you. His eyes roaming back around the room. He could try to deny it all he wanted, but he had mesmerized you.

He was extremely attractive, but there was something about the way he always found your gaze. How he would make an excuse to walk past you, his arm grazing along your skin. Even the way he would ask you to hang back after class so he could discuss your paper. His large body always looming over you, while you couldn’t think properly with his expensive Tom Ford cologne. He was intoxicating.

Sexy didn’t even describe Professor Solo. His pores wept of pure raw sex. Walking past your desk, to stand beside you. His hand clamping down on your shoulder while he continued his speech. The low timbre of his voice going straight to your core. You were always a sloppy mess in here. Ruining your panties every time he opened your mouth.

“I hope you guys have a great spring break. Papers will be due when you get back,” the class groans, but he grips tighter to your shoulder, and you sit stoically. “It’s been a semester long paper. Had you decided to work on it before now, you would have your entire spring break. Class dismissed,” he says, releasing your arm.

Solo says your name softly, leaning over your body, “Please, stay after class. I have something I need to discuss.”

The class leaves, while you sit, waiting patiently until the last student leaves. He walks calmly over to the door, and closes it. This time, turning the lock, before he walks back to where you're sitting. Opting to sit on the desk in front of you.  Raised up higher than you, and making you feel even smaller. A perfect view of your cleavage. He knew you were trying to get his attention. But you had it a long time ago. A young girl, eager to please, and very responsive to praise. He wanted you. Wanted to own you, and you were making it oh so very easy.

He whispers your name again, before holding out a paper, “I went over this, and I’m glad you didn’t turn it in as your final draft. You do better work than this,” he gulps when you play with that ever present choker around your neck. He knows exactly what would look better. “You’re better than this.”

“I, uh…I just, um…”

“Speak up. You need to say exactly what it is you mean.”

“I just,” you start taking a deep breath, and he gives you a warm smile, “I was needing some extra help on it. Like…extra curricular help?”

He gives you a smirk, and you bow your head in shame. Your blood pulsing through every part of your body, maybe you had misread all the signals he was giving you. You had crossed a line with your professor, and now you were just humiliated. “Look at me,” you look back up at him, and his hand goes to cup your cheek. Your mouth automatically opens, ready to be stuffed with his thumb.

“Oh, you are a sweet little Pet, hmm?” The praise goes straight to your core, as your cunt clenches around nothing. “You have done so well this semester. I was hoping eventually your dumb baby brain would pick up on everything. Close your mouth,” you close it immediately. Eyes moving to his crotch, and you preen at the sight of his swollen slacks.

Handing over your paper, he nods at you, “I’m sure that page three will help you with what you’re needing. Only take that advice, if you’re ready to indulge me. It’s an intense paper I know, but it’s so rewarding. You may go. Enjoy your break.”

You give him a pout, but stand, walking out of the room, and it isn’t until you flip to page three, that he gave you his address on a sticky note. You didn’t care how intense he was, you were ready to have him more than just for a teacher.

“You wanted my attention, you got it,” Solo says as he looks your body up and down. You had come prepared. Such a needy little thing. He knew that he was making you weak in class, by every bite of your pen, every switching of your legs, the squeezing of your thighs, the trembling and even whimpering when he touched you. You were weak for him, and that’s just how he wanted you.

Ready to do whatever his sick and twisted mind wanted. And all he wanted was a pretty little pet to dress up and play with. His large body walks around yours, and your gaze turns to the floor below. “Kneel,” without hesitation you get to your knees, still too scared to look up at him. “How will I know that you are mine even when we’re out in the open?”

“Sir?”

“I just want an outward sign that you are mine. My Pet.”

Your tongue darts out of your mouth, and you lick your lips slowly, “Your pet?” He gives a single nod, and you go weak. Body twitching around, “So you would use me as your toy?”

“Of course. Show my authority to you, and you take it like the bitch in heat you are,” audibly you whimper, and his cock twitches. You were perfect. It had taken most of the semester, but he took his time relishing in your obedience.

“A collar?”

“I was hoping you would say that. A collar for here, but a beautiful necklace out there,” he points towards the door, and you follow his finger, giving him a nod. He pulls out a necklace, holding it up, when you spot the Greek letters on there. “Alpha Kappa Omega.”

“I thought that was a myth,” you gulp looking up at him. You were too far gone, but you had heard of that fraternity.  That brotherhood.  An almost secret society.  Had heard the rumblings of the Professor, the Coordinator, it was the very man that stood before you.

“No, sweetheart. It’s very real. Would you want to be with one the founders?”

“I’m…I’m your Omega?”

“You are. I’m your Alpha, and I captured you, didn’t I?” you nod your head, looking up at the beautiful necklace. It looked innocent enough, but it held a secret on it. The most elite of secret societies, and he wanted you as his.

“Please, sir,” switching the necklace for a black leather collar instead, you were in his home after all. He walks behind you, cuffing your hands with leather as well, before ripping your dress, and pulling out your tits. Giving a sinister smile at the pebbled peaks.

“Just how wet are you? Stand up,” he gives a little chuckle as you try to right yourself up, but you finally make it. Spreading out your legs wide, and he finally touches you on your quivering cunt. Moaning at your slicked up folds, and he gives your swollen bundle of nerves a quick pinch. “You’re drenched.”

Grabbing a hold of your nipple, pulling it he guides you out of the foyer, and into the living room.

“On the couch. Ass up in the air, so I can see that pretty sloppy pussy,” with difficulty, you get to your knees. Your face smooshed on the cushion and ass in the air, and he sits down beside you. Grabbing up the remote, he mindlessly tries to find something to watch.  Completely ignoring your leaking cunt and desperate self.

Giving your glistening folds a quick look. He sinks his fingers into your waiting cunt. His finger slowly pumps into you, while he looks back at the tv. It was infuriating and humiliating for him to use you for his own pleasure, and still your whore hole just gets wetter. The idea of becoming his pet and play toy exciting you. “Does it feel good like this?” he asks, adding a second finger. You give him a satisfied moan, and nod your head.

“Or is this better?” adding his third finger, and you feel a slight sting.  But still he doesn’t look at how well you’re taking him.

“Much better.”

He could try to pretend he didn’t care, but his eyebrows raise with every sweet sound you make. “What is it that’s turning you on, My Pet? My fingers, the fact I’m not even looking at the way I have you stretched around them, or because I’m using you like the needy little slut you are? You don’t care how I touch you, as long as I just use you, hmm?”

“Yes, sir,” he presses his thumb against your clit, and you see stars. Your body twitches around, and he gives your ass a hard smack.

“You’re getting the fourth finger. Move again, and you get my whole fist. Just learn how to take it. Quit the whining,” you yelp at the added stretch, but remain still. Living in the moment of Solo having you like this. “I gotta prepare you for my fat cock. Or do you think you can take it? Wanna have tears streaming down your face because I haven’t prepared you? They always cry. They never last because it’s just too much for their pathetic little cunts. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You are already so much more obedient than the others.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fuck,” he says looking over at your pussy swallowing four of his fingers. “Yeah, like that. I think she could take me. You’re going to be so sore tomorrow. Good thing we have all week to break her in,” he pulls out his hand, moaning at the string of your arousal that follows his retreating hand. “Oh, she’s good and juicy.”

Undoing his shirt, he slings it over the couch, and you finally get to see his chiseled body. Larger than any man you had ever been with. Thick sinewed lines of muscle. A luscious patch of hair leading straight to the prize you were ready to beg for. Slowly taking his pants off you watch that glorious cock pop up. He was thick. Massive even. Heavy with the prettiest vein that you wanted to follow with your tongue.

You had never taken anyone of his size, and even with your murmured voice and whining, he smiles, “Oh you’re gonna take it,” he wasn’t just thick, his length looked like he was going to be in your stomach. Rearranging your guts, and expecting you to thank him for it, “Get over here, and take it like a good Pet.”

“My hands.”

“You’ve desperately wanted my cock this whole semester, and being cuffed is going to keep you from it?”

“No, sir,” you whisper. Going to stand up, you straddle him. Hovering over his cock, you realize just how large and menacing it was.

With his hands tight on your hips, he guides you to that delicious cock, and helps you sink over it. A strained whine makes its way up your throat as your pussy burns at the stretch. Moving so slowly you feel every inch, every ridge, every vein, and every bit of him. He coaxes you down further, wanting you to take every bit of him, until your hole is gaping and tender.

Mewling when he finally settles somewhere in your stomach. Swearing you feel him all the way in your mouth. “Such a good Pet. Look at you taking every bit of me. It wasn’t that hard was it?” you shake your head no, and it falls forward to his shoulder. “Oh, it’s got this pitiful little sex puppy already fucked out. Do I need to use your body?”

“Please, sir.”

“You can’t even think, huh? So pitiful. Got you all stretched out, and you’ve gone dumb with that. I’m going to have so much fun with you, my sweet,” his hands lift you off of him, before letting gravity take over, and you scream up his name. “Little,” doing the motion again, you start to see stars. “Dumb,” another time has you gasping for air. “Puppy,” you wail. Head tilting to the ceiling where you repeat please over and over again.

“You want me to stop?” you shake your head no. “You’re gonna cum, and I have barely fucked you, huh?” He slams you over his length, and you’re thankful he can think. You feel blissed out, with very little effort. It would take a long time to adjust to his cock. Months before your pussy was molded to him. But you would do it.  It would be your greatest honor.

“It’s yours,” you mumble, your words slurring as pleasure ripples through your veins.

“Oh, I know. You’re gonna let me do whatever I want, hmm?”

“Yes, sir. Whatever you want,” with a maniacal chuckle, he goes on a rampage. Fucking your body over him, and leaving your a writhing mess. Feeling so stuffed and full, and so utterly destroyed. He had ruined you. You were going to be his special pet. Take the initiation like a champ, and surely it couldn’t be worse than his giant cock.

Pushing and pulling you on his cock, you just about pass out multiple times. It was so much, too much, and you reveled in it. Delighted at his simple praises of being able to take him. Not caring about the tears that cascade your face, it was just Professor Solo. “I’m…I’m…”

“Oh, I know you are. I feel this tight pussy clenching around me. Let go, so I can fuck you when you pass out. Gotta get you used to me. They always cry, always pass out, but you can handle it. You're getting my pleasure now, sweet Pet.”

“Mmhmm. So good,” your head lulls back when he pushes you down hard. Eyes rolling in the back of your head, when you finally scream out his name. Speaking in tongue, but he knew exactly what you needed.

“So much fun with you, My Pet. Mine. Forever.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @infatuatedjanes @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @whimsyplaty92 @rebekahdawkins @johndeaconshands @thedarkplume @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @sgtjaamesbaarnes @missusbarnes-rogers @km-ffluv @mickeyhenrys @awkwardgiraffe726 @seitmai

[livesinfantasyland]

The one where two skillful thieves meet at a fundraiser

And with that, A Very Happy New Year!

More Mood Boards

[amournoir]

ok first, i just wanna say i absolutely love your writing and i'm so excited for you to write henry characters! second, is it okay if i request a fluff prompt for #8d and #8e for Napoleon Solo?

i'm sorry for asking for 2 of them 🙈 xx

Fluff Prompt | N.S {request}

℘ prompt — neck kiss (#8d) / shoulder kiss (#8e)

℘ warning — none, just fluff

℘ pairing — napoleon solo x f!reader

℘ count — 1.1k

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow through the open concept living room and kitchen, Y/N sat at the counter, her eyes fixed on Napoleon Solo, her charming and dashing boyfriend, as he gracefully moved around the kitchen, preparing a delightful dinner for the two of them. Napoleon's culinary skills were as impressive as his spy tactics, and watching him chop vegetables and sauté ingredients filled Y/N's heart with both admiration and affection. The aroma of the sizzling food enveloped the room, teasing her senses and making her stomach growl with anticipation.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Napoleon took a spoonful of the simmering sauce and walked over to where Y/N was seated. "Care to taste and give your approval, my love?" he asked, extending the spoon towards her.

Y/N gladly obliged, her lips parting to let the rich flavors dance on her tongue. She nodded approvingly, a contented smile forming on her lips. "Mmm, it's perfect," she praised, earning a pleased grin from Napoleon.

"Excellent," he replied, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on her cheek. "I aim to please."

But Napoleon wasn't satisfied with just a kiss on her cheek. As he retreated to the kitchen, he couldn't resist the temptation to return to Y/N's side. He sauntered back into the living room, his eyes never leaving hers, and without a word, he extended his hand, inviting her to stand with him.

Intrigued and excited, Y/N rose from her seat, slipping her hand into Napoleon's. With the soft melody playing in the background, he pulled her close, and they swayed to the rhythm of their hearts. His hand rested on the small of her back, guiding her movements with effortless grace.

The world outside seemed to fade away as they danced, locked in each other's gaze. Napoleon's touch was electrifying, sending tingles down her spine, and Y/N found herself melting into his embrace. As their bodies pressed closer, she felt his warm breath on her neck, and a shiver ran through her.

He couldn't resist trailing soft kisses along her neck and shoulder, and Y/N couldn't suppress the soft gasps that escaped her lips. The intimacy of the moment heightened, their hearts beating in unison. Napoleon's lips found hers, gentle yet passionate, and they shared a lingering kiss that spoke of their deep connection.

Their slow dance turned into a dance of passion, the flames of desire slowly igniting between them. But this was more than just physical attraction; it was the intensity of their love and the trust they had in each other that made every touch and every kiss meaningful.

As they swayed to the music, their souls seemed to merge, and the world felt like a whirlwind of emotions. Y/N could feel Napoleon's love for her in every caress, every whisper, and every stolen glance. It was a love that made her heart soar and brought tears of joy to her eyes. They moved as one, perfectly attuned to each other's desires and needs. The steamy atmosphere filled with their shared affection, yet they moved with an unspoken understanding that there was no rush, no need to hurry. This moment was for them alone, to revel in their love and devotion.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a seamless dance of love and affection. Napoleon's arms wrapped around Y/N's waist, holding her close, while her hands rested gently on his broad shoulders. Their steps were graceful, each movement deliberate yet effortless, as they swayed to the soft melody that filled the air.

Y/N's head rested on Napoleon's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting sound that made her feel secure and cherished. His lips brushed against her forehead, leaving a trail of tender kisses that made her heart flutter.

Their eyes locked, and in that gaze, they communicated without words, their love flowing between them like an unbreakable bond. As they danced, the world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them in their own intimate universe. The room seemed to fill with a warm glow, as if their love radiated like a beacon, enveloping them in a cocoon of affection.

Time seemed to stand still as they danced, lost in the moment and in each other. Each step they took was a testament to their commitment, their devotion, and their unwavering love. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the person in their arms, the one they held so close to their heart. Their love was a dance of tenderness, a symphony of emotions that left them breathless and filled with joy.

The world outside may have been filled with chaos, but in each other's arms, they found peace and serenity. Their dance was a celebration of their love story, a tale written in every movement, every touch, every stolen kiss. With every turn and every dip, they felt their souls intertwining, becoming one in their shared affection. They were lost in the sweetness of the moment, savoring the beauty of their love, as if time itself had granted them this moment of bliss.

Their dance was a testament to the depth of their connection, a dance of love that transcends all boundaries. It was a dance that spoke of a love that would endure any challenge, a love that would last for eternity.

As the song came to an end, they held each other close, unwilling to break the spell they had woven around them. Their hearts beat as one, their breaths mingled, and they knew that in this dance, they had found their forever. In the arms of the one they loved, they found home. And as they gazed into each other's eyes, they knew that every step they took together would be a dance of love, a dance that they would cherish for the rest of their lives.

As the last musical note rang out through the room, Napoleon dipped Y/N slightly, and their eyes locked once more. "I love you," he whispered, his voice tender and sincere.

"I love you Leon," she replied, her voice filled with adoration.

With a smile that could rival the stars, Napoleon lifted Y/N back up and held her close, their foreheads touching. They knew that this dance was just one of many they would share in their journey together, a journey of love, trust, and passion that knew no bounds.

In each other's arms, they found solace and strength, knowing that as long as they had each other, they could conquer any mission life threw their way. And in this intimate moment, they felt more invincible than any spy mission could ever make them feel.

As the night continued to unfold, they savored their dinner together, basking in the warmth of their love and the knowledge that in each other, they had found their home, their safe haven in the chaos of the world. And so, in the tender embrace of each other, they embraced the beauty of the present, cherishing the love that made every moment a masterpiece.

🏷️ taglist:

⤷ @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @sweetwrathoflilith @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @mikaelsonsdeservedbetter @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @dreamingwithrafe @softcoremaybank @klaustopia  @sweetestdesire @cottontears @cottonreads @buckysbabydoll-x

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[daydreaming-in-letters]

Home

11/20/2022

Pairing: your favourite x you

Word Count: 388

Warnings: non-explicit sexy times, fluff

Summary: Your love comes home to you after being away for too long.

A/N: Even though I imagined someone particular writing this, you are free to imagine any guy you like.

Picture by Erol Ahmed via Unsplash

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

You’re here. You’re finally here. Home.

No words could ever describe the feeling that befalls me when I watch you walk through that door, how my whole being fills with you, only you, and I am at peace again. No words could ever describe. So I show you. 

The thrill of you, igniting my flame the moment your eyes rest on me. The need in your hands as they move on my body, reacquainting themselves with my form, caressing, claiming, stirring my fire the way only you can. My answer coaxes a moan from your sweet lips. “Like silk on my back,” you whisper and the sound of your voice makes me want to cry happy tears. 

So long. It has been so long. Every day apart nourishing the fear I will forget all the precious details of you. The warmth in your voice, the gentleness in your touch, the way you feel in my arms. And I don’t ever want to forget, forget you and the me I am when I’m with you. I just breathe differently, more like me, when you are around.

You must have seen it in my eyes, felt it, too. I can tell from the determination as you pull me closer. My fingers glide through a sea of silk, tightening their hold to share the relieving pain of our first reunion after an eternity. An eternity of imagining your breath on my face while you hum against my lips, of yearning to feel you, all of you, of being yours wholly and completely. 

We don’t last long, we never do when we collide like this. But neither of us cares. Why would we complain about a brief prelude when the sweetest part is yet to come?

Our carnal desires satisfied, we’re free to just be. In your tender embrace the storm inside me calms and it is you, only you that remains. What more could I ask when your fingers run through my hair and your lips speak of soft things to me, your voice getting lower with every circle your free hand is drawing on my back?

Tonight, you will be my resting place, your chest my pillow, your arms and legs my blanket. You’re all I want. The feeling of knowing and being known. The feeling of finally being home.

***

Tag List: If your name is crossed out, I wasn't able to tag you. If you don't specify which fic you want to be tagged in, you will be added to my general taglist.

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @nerra75 @indigosaurus @nowyouseeme098 @cap-just-said-language @miss-rebel-without-applause @wheretheriversrunintothesea @maan24 @mochionly @introvertedmouse @sofiebstar @kebabgirl67 @marytudorbrandon @littleone65 @thoughtfullyfurryangel @mimi-just-living @themanfromu @liecastillo @capncassas @evansabove1981 @luclittlepond @agniavateira @enchantedbytomandhenry @lumiousmoon @tumblnewby @crazybutconfidentaf @viking-raider @thorins-queen-of-erebor @aletheladyinred @atomicr4ven

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

Love, Napoleon Masterlist

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Black!OFC

Series Summary: Love letters can only do so much, sometimes you need a grand romantic gesture. This is the love story of Napoleon “Leon” Solo and Roberta “Bobbie” Collins.

Spotify Playlist is here.

YouTube Music playlist is here.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics (envelope), @saradika-graphics (hearts)

Cover Art by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 (TBD)

My Masterlist 

[drmaddict]

Gray Hair

Summery: Napoleon reveals his biggest fear

Trigger warning: mention of Alzheimer's

English is not my first language so be gentle.

(gif is not mine)

Napoleon Solo is a man who paid insane attention to his appearance. He paid meticulous attention to his clothes, his hair, his shoes, the watch he wore. His hair knew its place. None would just jump out of place for no apparent reason.

His skin was well-groomed. His face always shaved.

He didn't overeat, never drank too much, and trained his body with an iron conviction to mold it to the image he deemed appropriate. Every morning without fail before the rest of the world even got out of bed.

Napoleon was a man who knew how he affected others and how to act to change that effect. He was a born manipulator. So it wasn't unusual for him to take longer in the bathroom than I did. But today it went too far even by his standards.

I sat on the bed, bored, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. I was used to waiting. Napoleon took his missions more seriously than I would have thought possible at the beginning of our partnership. He proved me wrong. He let me into his world, into his heart. Which led to me to also opening the little locked door to my heart for him.

I had learned over time to love and respect this man. With all his quirks, but even I had my limits.

Annoyed, I stood up and walked to the bathroom door. "Napoleon?", I knocked at the door.

No response. "I know you take your appearance very seriously, but you've been in there for over an hour now. What are you doing?"

"Just... Just 5 more minutes... I'll be right there," I heard the frantic reply before a muffled clink sounded. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

He was stuttering. He never stuttered. Even when a gun was held to his head, he still had a casual line on his lips. The clink. With him, every move was spot on. He wasn't the best pickpocket in the world for nothing.

"Are you sure about this? You sound kind of... confused? Should I tell Illya and Gaby? Should we cancel the mission?"

"NO!.. No. I... I'll have it in a minute."

But after five minutes, still nothing was happening, so I grabbed the hairpin from my hairstyle, which was purely for decorative purposes, and stuck the deliberately sharpened end into the door until I heard a soft click. I pushed the door open just as quietly. What I saw was definitely not what I expected.

Napoleon clung to the sink and looked in the mirror in panic.

"Napoleon?", I asked timidly.

His head shot around to me and big eyes start at me. His right hand shot up and abruptly rested on the right side of his head, where it covered his hair.

I drew my eyebrows together in irritation. "Napoleon what's wrong? Talk to me!" I walked toward him. He stalked away from me until he bumped into the toilet behind him and sat down surrenderd on the lid. His hand still pressed to his head. I squatted in front of him and gently tried to dislodge his hand from his head. He refused at first. Did not look me in the eye. I pulled on it jerkily and I had a clear view of the covered area underneath.

My face reflected more confusion. No wound. His hair laying as it always did.

I looked irritated at his face, but he just had his eyes squeezed shut and his face turned away from me.

"Napoleon you have to talk to me. What's wrong? I don't understand? Are you hurt? What? Napoleon are you crying?"

I gently turned his face toward me and wiped away the tears.

"Napoleon what-"

"How can you not see it?" he snapped.

"See what?"

He looked at me out of wet, hysterical eyes. "The hair!" he said, as if that explained everything.

I glanced at his strands of hair. At the part he had been so panicked to cover. There it was. A delicate silver shining hair in a sea of black. THAT was the reason for this reaction?

"Leon.", I sighed. "That's just..." I stroked his cheek with my thumb. "Honey I know you... You know you're only human. An outstanding, talented, insanely good looking humanbeing, but still just a humanbeing. That's perfectly normal."

He shook his head. "I need more time. I... This can't be happening already. I still have so much to do. I still have so much to show you. I need... I need more time." He clung to my wrist hysterically. He was completely out of it. I reached for the mic on my garter and turned it on. "Illya Gaby? We can't go with you... I sprained my ankle. You'll have to go on your own."

"Understood." came the short and practical reply from Illya.

Napoleon was still in his own world. "Honey you... you're not going to die tomorrow. It's just a gray hair."

He shook his head. "I'm going to forget everything. I'm going to forget you. The paintings. Me. That's... That's how it starts. First comes the gray hair

and then..." he shook his head to stop himself.

I reached for his face again. "Look at me. Napoleon come on. Look at me. Good. Now breathe with me. In and out. In and out. Good... Good."

He was slow to calm down, but it worked. "Now, I need you to tell me what's going on."

He took a deep breath. "My father...he was the smartest man I knew. He... hell he was a janitor, but always the smartest man in the room. He was one step ahead of everybody. Until the gray hair came. Until he forgot who I was. Who he was. He was in a wrong time. He didn't know what world he was in anymore. Age took away everything he was."

I looked at our clasped hands. "Alzheimer's?", I asked. He nodded.

I stroked the top of his head. "Gray hair doesn't make you old. I know a girl who went gray at twenty-two." He rested his head against my shoulder and I continued to stroke his strands of hair. "Not every person who gets old has Alzheimer's. I can't promise you it won't affect either of us, but you have more than enough time before that could even be an issue. Leon. You still have time. For the world. Your paintings. Me."

He was silent. "If you find out, you'll have to take me away." He lifted his head and looked me straight in the eye. "I don't want anyone to see me like this. Not even you. If it starts and you notice, you'll take me away under a fake name and leave me behind. I want people to know me as a man. Not...not as a decay."

I was literally struck by his fear, but nodded bravely.

He dropped his head back against my shoulder. "What am I going to do now? I'm supossed to be the young bachelor out there. I can't have gray hair."

"I'll just get hair dye. You're in luck as usual my good man. Black is an easy color."

I scratched the back of his neck. He put an arm around me and pulled me closer. He smelled my scent. "I love you. I can't imagine ever forgetting that."

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Love, Napoleon!: Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Sweet Desserts and Sweeter Kisses

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Black!OFC

Fandom: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

Word Count: 1.9K

Series Summary: Love letters can only do so much, sometimes you need a grand romantic gesture. This is the love story of Napoleon “Leon” Solo and Roberta “Bobbie” Collins.

Chapter Summary: Bobbie and Leon entertain Gaby and Illya.

Warnings: p-in-v sex, creampie, fluff

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“Leon! It’s been six months. You are now legally obligated to introduce me to your friends.” Bobbie moves around the kitchen, checking on various dishes on the stove and in the oven.

“Gaby is beside herself to meet you,” Leon acknowledges from his post, leaning in the doorway to the quaint kitchenette.

“Well, see? Gaby is excited, so why aren’t you?” She challenges, pulling out a baking dish from the oven and setting it on the counter.

“It’s not Gaby that I’m worried about. She’s a sweetheart once you get past the tough exterior. But Illya? Tough is all he knows. I can’t exactly blame him,” he says, looking over to where Bobbie picked her head up and looked at him for more information. “And I can’t exactly tell you why that is. Sorry, love.”

“Right, right. Need-to-know basis. But not to worry; I’ve got a secret weapon for Illya. I made a dish specifically for him. And if I know anything, it’s the way to a man’s heart, and that is through his stomach. So, even though this is nerve-wracking as all get out, I think he’s going to at least tolerate it,” she huffs, balling up a dishtowel before tossing it on the counter.

Napoleon walks up behind Bobbie and wraps his arms around her, his head resting on her shoulder as he pulls her into him. “You know, I am so proud of you for putting all this together for my friends. You’ve done so much to make everything perfect, and I think you deserve a little treat of your own.”

“What are you-” Bobbie starts, only to be cut off by the shock of Napoleon’s hand smoothing down her sweater-covered breast and further down over her corduroy knee-length skirt. When it disappears under the fabric, she squirms. “Leon, they’re gonna be here any minute!”

“Well then, I’d better make this fast,” he whispers. Walking backward, Napoleon rests his hips against the counter behind him. Holding Bobbie against himself with one hand across her middle and one in her panties, he continues toying with her swelling clit until her legs buckle. “There she is, so close already.”

“Leon…please,” she trails off, her wringing hands at her sides. She knows if she reaches for his hand, he will stop. Throwing her head back against his chest, she looks up into his face and witnesses how much he truly enjoys having this power over her. That doesn’t stop her from pleading with her big brown eyes.

“Oh, you know exactly what that look does to me,” he growls, leaning down to capture her lips with his own. His hand that was around her middle comes up to cradle her face, his thumb caressing her cheek as she stands on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. Breaking the kiss, Napoleon turns them around to face the counter, pulling Bobbie’s skirt up and her panties down. “That kiss of yours is going to be the death of me.”

He has his pants unzipped, his cock pulled out, and inside of her in record time. He knew he wouldn’t last long, not that it mattered. His main goal is to get her off so her mind clears. He moves his hips back before slamming them back in, and she is already putty in his hands.

Within minutes, he has Bobbie on the brink of her orgasm. He’s holding her there, his hands on her hips, as he maintains a punishing pace. With every thrust, he pushes her closer to the edge, only to catch her before she can fall. Only when he’s ready will he allow her to come crashing down.

Judging by the footfalls and the sound of the front door of the apartment building closing, he doesn’t have much time. Luckily, he knows how to play her body. His right hand finds her puffy clit while his left hand migrates to her throat. 

Whispering into her ear, “Come for me, pretty girl. Let go and show me you can follow directions like I know you can.”

As if by a magical spell, her walls clamped down around him. He had every intention of fucking her through her orgasm; he really did. But the grip her pussy had on his cock was enough to send him right over the horizon with her. His hips are still as he empties inside her, all while still managing to hold up both of their bodies.

Extricating himself from her hold, Napoleon squats down to pull Bobbie’s underwear back up her legs and rights her skirt again before fixing his clothing.

“I am going to be thinking about my cum leaking out of you all night long,” he sighs, kissing her forehead when she turns around to face him.

Just as she opens her mouth, three sharp knocks sound on the door to her apartment. They fuss over each other for a moment, making sure it doesn’t look like they were just having sex. Once done, they go to the door to greet their guests.

Bobbie swings the door open, greeting the couple in her apartment. “Gaby, Illya. I’m Roberta, but you can call me Bobbie. So nice to finally meet you. I was starting to believe you might be a figment of Leon’s imagination.” She takes their coats, and Napoleon gets drinks ready for them.

“I hope Leon’s imagination flattered me, at least,” Gaby laughs, sipping her dirty martini and winking at Napoleon.

“I only told her the good stuff,” Napoleon replies, bringing a Sazerac to Bobbie and a Manhattan for Illya.

Illya nods to Napoleon, smiles at Bobbie, and remains silent.

Bobbie ushers everyone to the dining table before she starts to bring out dish after dish of foods that are almost too beautiful to eat. Leaving dessert as a surprise, she comes back to the table, and everyone starts to serve themselves. As the first bites are taken, compliments are given to the chef.

“Bobbie, this is delectable,” Gaby hums, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Darling, you have outdone yourself,” Napoleon praises.

“Thank you. I’m so glad you like everything. I’ll be honest, I was nervous that I was going to burn something or undercook something. I was a wreck,” Bobbie giggles, looking over the faces of her boyfriend and her guests. “Eat up; I have a treat for dessert, and I hope you all like it.”

Illya eats in relative silence, not one emotion gracing his face. Bobbie has been secretly staring at him for most of dinner. When the meal is complete, Gaby volunteers to clear the plates away, and the women retreat to the kitchen. While they are out of earshot, Napoleon turns on the record player, and the smooth sounds of Peggy Lee’s Fever fill the air. 

“Peril, what game are you playing at?” Napoleon cuts to the chase, motioning for Illya to sit on the couch with him.

“It’s been a long time since I had dinner with a civilian. My social skills may not be the best. If I don’t say anything, I won’t accidentally-”

“Have a good time?” Napoleon supplies, cutting off Illya.

Illya rolls his eyes. “I’m not afraid to have a good time. I'm worried about getting close to new people. I don’t know how to be a civilian. I’m an agent,” he says, crossing his arms.

“She’s not going to say anything, so I will. You’re on the verge of being rude. So, do yourself a favor and speak to my lovely before she thinks you don’t like her; that’s if she doesn’t already think that,” Napoleon huffs, tilting his head at Illya.

The girls come out of the kitchen with dessert already plated with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream. Gaby places two plates on the coffee table while Bobbie serves Napoleon and Illya. Noticing the look of surprise on Illya’s face, Bobbie thinks the worst.

“Is there something wrong?” she supposes.

“Not at all. I haven’t had sharlotka since I was a little boy. My mother used to let me help make it for special occasions,” he marvels, taking a bite and closing his eyes before nodding and saying, “This is perfect. So was dinner. I apologize for my earlier silence; please don’t think I am dissatisfied with you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I figured you would be the hard sell. Luckily, I had the idea for the sharlotka and knew if anything, you’d at least be impressed by me,” Bobbie jokes, taking a bite of the dish. “Oh wow, you weren’t kidding. That is going in the recipe book, for sure.”

“I’ll have to get that recipe from you. I think you’ve made Illya’s new favorite,” Gaby chuckles, smiling at her husband when a blush creeps up on his face.

When dessert is done, the couples talk for a while over coffee before Illya notices Gaby nuzzling into his side and suggests that they end the night’s fun. By this time, Napoleon is already a pillow for Bobbie as she leans into him from her spot on the couch.

Napoleon picks up Bobbie’s head from his lap, depositing it on the couch after he gets up, not wanting to wake her up just yet. He walks Gaby and Illya to the door, saying goodbye on behalf of himself and Bobbie and promising to tell her that they enjoyed themselves.

Closing the door behind them, he walks over to the couch, where a tired Bobbie is now hanging halfway off the couch. He knows today was a struggle for her; planning an entire dinner and entertaining is no short order. He is so proud of her, not just for today but in general. He thinks the world of her, and nothing could change his mind.

Picking up her limp body from the couch, he takes her into the bedroom and lays her down. He removes her shoes and his own before climbing into bed next to her. He laughs when she cuddles into him and wraps an arm and leg around him possessively. He plants a kiss on her forehead and is met with a mumble from Bobbie.

“What was that, little one?” He presses, cradling her sleepy face in his hand, unsure of what he heard.

“I said I love you, Leon,” she confesses, ducking her head and looking up at him.

Napoleon breaks out into a grin and leans down to kiss Bobbie, only to stop at the last second before their lips touch. Looking into her eyes, he says, “I love you too, Bobbie.”

Bobbie melts in his arms. She knows how Napoleon dotes on her and spoils her. But this love confession of his means the world to her. She also knows that she has loved him for some time now, but the timing was never right to tell him. 

Until tonight, this moment could not happen. Napoleon knew that if she didn’t get along with his fellow agents, it would be quite tricky. But watching her win over Gaby so easily and Illya so charmingly cements in his mind that she is worth every ounce of his love.

Of course, if you ask him, he’s loved her since their first kiss. If he’s honest with himself, he still feels butterflies when her lips touch his.

Chapter 5 (TBD)

A/N: This story is far from over. OMG, I missed my babies so much.

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[mrsarnasdelicious]

He Cums to Soon - Napoleon Solo

"Oh god, pretty one, god. You are going to be the death of me." Napoleon groans. You smirk, swiping your thumb over his glans. "That would be a pity, Leon." You murmur. "Shut up, keep sucking." He huffs. He was quite enjoying himself. "Oh no, we are going to do this big dance, Leon. I am not just letting you get away with a blowjob tonight. I am your wife, not your mistress." You reply.

You stand up and begin to undo the buttons of his jacket and waist coat. Napoleon gazes longingly at your lips. There is something needy in his ocean eyes. Something you absolutely mean to exploit. To the fullest extend of the letter.

"You are mine, Leon, all mine." You whisper, arching up to kiss him. Napoleon moans loudly. His desire is making his blood boil. It is almost overheating him. "Oh yes, doll, all yours." He groans, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He is doing his best to get you as hot as he is. Though you have some catching up to do.

You give his cock another slow tug, before running your hands up his body. Napoleon makes a muffled noise when you tangle your fingers in his chesthair. "Fuck." He hisses. "God, you are so fucking horny." You growl. "All your doing." Napolon breathes.

His cock is jumping for your attention, twitching and throbbing.

Precum dribbles down his shaft as you kiss gently at his throat. Napoleon groans lustily. It is almost too easy. He is putty in your hands. "Hmm, so hard for me." You cooe, nibbling at his adam's apple. Napoloen swears under his breath. "Oooh ooh fuck." He hisses.

And then suddenly, he is erupting. He pelvis pasms and his seed all but flies through the room. You gasp in surprise. "Oh my! Leon!" You titter. Napoleon pants loudly, fluster high on his strong cheekbones. "I... I could not.." He stammers. "I know, my love." You cooe, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

His cock is still twitching and drools some more semen.

"I am not done with you yet." You purr. Napoleon smirks a lustful little smirk. "You better not be, pretty one." He rumbles, reeling you in for a slow, senual kiss.

[espinosaurusrexex]

Solo

NapoleonSolo x female!reader

In which Napoleon does not want to work with Y/N, even though they are the 'perfect team'.

a/n: Thanks to @7eamfan7asy for suggesting this imagine. This was fun :)

word count: 2.6k

warnings: I don't think there are any, actually

Break in, retrieve the evidence, get out again. Without anybody noticing. That was the mission. A simple Black Bag operation. And it would have worked without anybody noticing if it weren’t for the incredibly annoying spy currently tied up next to Napoleon. Because of Y/N, the pair was chained to a radiator in the basement of the large company building that sat amid New York with one tiny little window broken on the top floor. Making it look like some accident had caused it to shatter and not the super-secret spy mission he had been called for. But, no. Of course, she had to come in and ruin this for him - his chance at getting off the weird employee contract that lasted as long as his supposed imprisonment. 

“Tell me again. What are you doing here?” He hissed as he struggled to writhe out of the cuffs on his wrists. His Back was pressed to Y/N’s and the radiating heat coming off of her body didn’t help in his attempts to break free of the already too tight metal restraints. 

“We’re partners, in case you forgot, hotshot.” Napoleon huffed. He could practically hear the roll of her eyes in her tone. Partners wouldn’t be this careless. That’s why he worked alone. His name was Napoleon Solo for God’s sake. How much clearer could it get? Apparently not clear enough for Y/N. 

He didn’t know her very well. She had appeared about a week ago in Sanders’s office with an accompanied ‘This is Agent Y/L/N. She will be your partner on this mission.” from Sanders himself. Of course, Napoleon hadn’t thought that he actually had to deal with her back then. And after a heated argument about his lone-wolf strategies he had decided that he did not want to either. She was unbearable and a know-it-all. Always cutting off his sentences while planning the mission and constantly talking. God, she was talking so much. At one point he had debated on cutting his ears off to make it stop.

“And if it weren’t for you and your ‘I’m better off alone’ attitude we wouldn’t be in this situation,” she continued. If he wouldn’t start talking she would just go on and on.

“Are you implying that this is my fault?” He answered half-heartedly. His eyes were scanning the surroundings, in search of something to get him out of this situation.

“Well, I was not the one striding off alone to do a mission that was supposed to be for two people.”

“We’re getting a file. How many people do you need for that?” This argument was pointless and Napoleon felt himself growing impatient with every second. He needed to get out of here.

“Two. If you would have taken into account that this building is equipped with the newest alarm system on the market,” the woman countered. Her head was turned over her shoulder as she directed her remark at the stubborn man behind her.

She was questioning his abilities, now. And Napoleon did not like it. “I knew that.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you set it off anyway.” It was a muttered remark but definitely intended to be heard. 

The brunette didn’t let it faze him though. That was exactly what she wanted, right? To make him lose his cool. “I didn’t.”

“Well, you certainly didn’t wait for me.”

“Because I never went with you.” He’d seriously had enough of the pointless teasing. He would have enjoyed it in rather different circumstances. But this? Definitely not.

“Just shut up and get the pin out of my hair.” Y/N shuffled down to get her head as close to his hands as possible. He had to turn to pat her hair for the pin, but when he finally retrieved it, he was kind of glad to have her - just for the sake of the pin of course.

Napoleon opened his handcuffs with ease and proceeded to get up off the floor. His steps took him towards the stairs.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m finishing this mission.” He threw the pin in her direction and added a stern ‘alone’ along the way. And then he disappeared through the doorway at the top of the staircase, sneaking his way through the grey corridors, careful not to get caught by the guards outside, waiting for their boss.

A couple minutes later he heard careful footsteps approaching and then a firm hand on his shoulder. He turned around, shooting out his hand to grab the person by the neck, ready to crush them into the next wall. Y/N’s wide eyes greeted him with horror as she covered the hand on her throat with hers. She would ruin this for him again. Like she had ruined everything so far. And he was not up for it.

“I suggest you leave,” he whisper-yelled as he let go of her.

“That was the plan, you idiot,” Y/N hissed back, “but no before we get the file.”

Their little banter was disturbed. Suddenly, a loud bang was heard in the corridor followed by at least a dozen footsteps. People talking, receiving instructions, and then swarming out with their weapons ready.

“He’s here,” Napoleon stated unfazed. He took her arm and casually dragged her into another room - an impressive conference room- closing the door. Then he went from window to window, checking his surroundings and the adjacent corridors.

“Oh, great. The building is officially littered with guards.”

“Again, not entirely my fault,” the spy mumbled in annoyance. But the brunette agent just cocked his eyebrow and continued to look for a way out.

“Listen, I know you don’t really like me that much.” Y/N paused in her sentence as if she was waiting for a counter on Napoleon's side, but he just looked at her - composed as ever - ready to hear the rest of her statement. “But If we want to get out of here, we need to work together.”

Napoleon laughed, he knew very well that both of them were perfectly fine breaking into the building by themselves. They would certainly be fine getting out alone as well.

“So, I would appreciate it if you just sucked up whatever ego trip you are on right now and work with me here.” She turned to the wall and climbed on the cupboard in front of her. Her hand reached for one of the pockets in her vest, retrieving a device that looked like a tiny screwdriver. 

She stretched towards the vent - that wasn’t even a bad idea, he would have probably done the same thing within the next minutes - though she was not quite tall enough to properly place the device under the metal grid to pry it open. 

Despite his obvious disapproval of the new partner, Napoleon weighed his chances of getting out. And the odds of getting caught were far less likely if the agents just stayed with each other. Maybe it wouldn’t be too horrible, he thought. So far, she had done exactly what he would have done - minus the alarm, of course. Where was the harm in looking at how far she could actually match his skills? 

With a final sigh, he stepped towards her and watched a little as she struggled.

“Buildings like these are equipped with large vent plans that stretch throughout the whole floor. We get in here and chances are they’ll-”

“Never even see us,” he completed with a knowing smirk. Then he took the device from her hands, climbed on the cupboard as well, and opened the grid. He wouldn’t let her do everything. Sure, he wanted a little fun but this was still work, after all.

The grid was removed in no time and the agent waited for Y/N to push herself up. He was prepared to see her fight the height of the rectangle, crossing his arms in front of his chest as his eyes pried on her in anticipation. A faint smirk rolled onto his face when she jumped up, her hands reached high for the metal and he was ready to see her fail. But his hopes were in vain. The woman placed her foot on a bookshelf next to the cabinet mid jump, pushing herself higher and finally reaching for the edges of the metal hole in the wall. Once she had gotten ahold of it, she pulled herself up without a struggle, disappearing within the blink of an eye.

Napoleon was surprised, though he fought to keep an unbothered expression on his face.

Her head popped out of the vent after a couple seconds. “Are you planning on coming up here, Mr. super spy?” Her tone was teasing and laced with a small smirk. He smiled, too. He had to.

Once up in the vent, he placed a tiny bug on the wall next to his exit. He put the grid back on the entrance, waiting for Y/N to ask what he had been doing, but - once again - his hopes were futile.

Napoleon cleared his throat, thinking that she probably didn’t see him place the device in the room. “I placed a listing device on the wall to-“

“To get some more intel. They will most likely discuss their strategies in this room. It’s too extravagant not to be important, I know. It’s a smart move. I would have done the same,” Y/N interrupted, and then she carefully moved through the steel tunnels, leaving a fuming agent behind. 

If she really would have done the same, then he would have been genuinely impressed. But his ego clouded his judgement for the moment, making him follow her just as carefully with a deep frown on his face and an even deeper annoyance lingering in his mind.

Y/N crawled through the system with determination. She had a plan of her surroundings and reached her destination without having to turn back once.

They were standing in front of the safe in the dark office, Napoleon had been so close to just an hour ago - before everything had gone to shit. Looking at each other to determine who would get the honors of actually retrieving the evidence, the brunette’s mind rattled. He had seen Y/N do some pretty impressive things tonight. And despite her constant aggravating, she had thrown in some good input the week before, when they were planning the mission. She was a good agent, he had to give her that. Maybe his ego had gotten the better of him on this task, though he couldn’t quite let go of his solo career just yet. Thus, he decided to test her one last time.

If she would be able to open the vault, he’d give her the benefit of the doubt. He probably didn’t have to work with the agent ever again, but he would keep her in mind as a talented one.

So, he nodded towards the black block of steel before them, crossing his arms before his chest once again. “Ladies first.” 

“Oh, how very kind of you, Mr. Solo?” Y/N raised her eyebrows as she dragged out his last name, and then she got to work. Her ear pressed on the cold surface as her hand began turning on the wheel for the locking mechanism. She turned it three times. Then changed direction, turned it again, and then one more time, with every movement slowing towards the end until a knowing smile appeared on her lips.

“Go ahead.” She motioned towards the safe, supposedly ready for him to open. And it did. Now, the speed at which she had cracked it was impressive, but it was a small safe, Napoleon had cracked far more complex ones. But he said he would give her the benefit of the doubt. And whether he liked it or not, she did earn it.

A silent rattling was heard outside the door and Y/N’s face shot at Napoleon in an instant. They were here. The agents looked around the room frantically and as their eyes met again, it seemed as though both of them knew exactly what to do.

As if they were in sync, Y/N moved to grab the file out of the safe the same time Napoleon sprinted for the window, opening it and securing a grabbling hook. Y/N leaned against the door to keep it shut, but the footsteps became louder and louder. And despite their attempts, the haste of the agents prevented a completely silent atmosphere. They had to hear them, even if it was just faint.

“Now would be a good time to go,” Y/N urged as a familiar clicking noise was heard beyond the door, “Napoleon...” Her head turned to the side as she pressed her ear to the door. Her tone was impatient, and as soon as she saw Napoleon ready, standing on the ledge of the window, she sprinted towards him. One leap from the cabinet in front of the window and the spy caught her with one arm locking on her waist. He shot one last look to the door, which flung open with three guards storming inside, their weapons raised. 

“Later, Gentlemen,” he said with a wink and then the agents descended down the building in one smooth, fast motion.

They ran into the darkness of the night as soon as they reached the ground, seeking refuge behind the dumpster of a diner a block away from the office building. Both of them catching their breaths as they sat on the floor, Y/N was clutching the file to her body.

Napoleon watched as her chest began to rise slower with every breath. Her forehead with from a thin layer of sweat, as did his. 

“Are you hungry?” He asked. His eyes trained on the diner sign above their heads as his rested against the brick wall of the building.

“What?” Her gaze followed his and her stomach grumbled when she spotted the sign as well.

About ten minutes later, the duo found themselves in a booth of the diner they had hidden behind moments prior. A plate of food was placed before either one of them as a familiar silence filled the space between them. Napoleon leaned back in his seat, watching as Y/N popped a fry in her mouth, the file laying beside them on the table - unbothered. 

“I have to admit, the end was kind of fun,” she attempted to break the quiet. But her opponent's eyebrows only raised at that.

“You think so? We almost got caught again.” The smile at the memory defeated his stoic attempt at a counter. Even if he didn’t want to admit it just yet, it was fun - a little, maybe. 

“But we made a good team.” Now Y/N leaned back as Napoleon reached forward to grab a couple of fries from his plate. His face was pensive as his eyes flickered between the file and the agent before him.

“Huh. I guess we did,” he shrugged. Then it was back to silence, again. The brunette watched the woman opposite him eat for a while, and she didn’t say anything about his staring at all. There was no denying it. It was fun and working with her had led him to finish the mission in no time - that was, once they actually worked together. She was good at what she was doing, and it almost pained him to admit that there were probably a couple things he could learn from her. So it was only fair to tell her, right?

It took everything for him to keep his voice steady, nevertheless. “You are a good agent, Y/N.” He wouldn’t apologize though, that was too much.

And Y/N seemed to know what laid on the tip of his tongue after the compliment, but she brushed it off with a smile as she bit into her burger with delight.

“Thanks, so are you.”

[doll-r-t]

Henry/Henry’s Characters x reader with chronic pain

Henry, Henry's Characters x disabled!reader

Including: Henry, Napoleon, Syverson, August, Sherlock, Geralt, Walter Marshall

Written by an actual disabled person. Every disability and a disabled persons needs are different. This is based on my struggles and needs. So please if you know someone disabled consult them on what they need. Listen to THEM. Not something you read on the internet.

Gif credit to owner

Napoleon:

You struggled with being touched when you are in pain, any kind of pressure would only hurt you more. It drained your energy. So he would make sure that the room was cool, putting on silk sheets anything that is soft and would not cause any more friction or heat your body up. Then he would lay down on his back and settle you between his legs, the only point you were touching was his chest. He was trying to keep his legs as spread as he could as not to touch you more. He would let you sleep on his chest while he would watch documentaries or review papers. Once in a while, he would massage your scalp or stroke your hair to make you relax. 

Syverson:

Syverson absolutely hated seeing you in pain. So once you were good he would sit you down to make a plan. Finding out what would help you and what would not. He was glad that he was trained as a Special Force because he had to push down all his emotions when you are in pain and make you do your exercises or stretches that would ease the pain. Normally you just wanted to curl up and just take the pain and cramps but he was not having it. He knew it was exhausting for you so he would help you sit up and support you in any way he could during your stretches. He would also massage certain areas knowing it would get better. But still, he would bite down on his teeth when you would moan or flinch in pain. He hated that it would leave bruises from you tensing so much. He thought the only time you should have bruises was from pleasure when he grips you tightly to him while thrusting in you. He would whisper encouraging words to you. Afterward, he would get you something cold to drink or ice cream as a reward as the cold would help you. Once your body was less tense he would let you rest, either laying with you or checking up on you regularly. Normally at that time, he was quite letting you work it out on your own as you needed it. He would make sure that for the rest of the day and night you would take it easy. 

August:

He would give you a stern look when he realized you were in pain but not resting as you should. He would lay you down on the bed completely naked and slowly trace your body with ice cubes to cool you down and make you tense then relax from the difference between cold and warm. He would adjust your body in a way that eased your pain. When it was in your hips he would grab your legs and slowly pull making you stretch. He had done research on it so he tried to replicate what he saw. He would massage your face, especially your jaw as you had the tendency to lock it and it would cause you to have a headache. So he would first cool down his hands with ice cubes and then move your jaws and put pressure on your temples. He would buy you a soft stuffed animal so you had something to hold onto while he massaged your pressure points. He would encourage you to put your face into the stuffed animal and just hold onto it. Once your body was relaxing he would softly caress your body telling you how good you were, how strong, and how much he loved you. “Do you want a reward sweetheart? Hmm, you are such a good girl, baby. So good for me.” He would massage your pussy a little and circle your clit to get you to relax even more. Then he would lay his head between your tights and lick you. Telling you to just lay back and relax, close your eyes and try to sleep a bit. He would not tease like he usually would. No games just giving you his warm tongue on your wet heat until you fell asleep.

Geralt:

It was his instinct to protect and care for people even though he did not show it. But he could not fight your own body it was an invisible force and he felt helpless which made him angry. He would consult Vesemir and Triss feeling frustrated and not being able to take your pain. He thought that maybe Vesimir had something you could take but it was too risky taking a Witcher potion. He would read up on herbs that could help heal the body. He would collect peppermint leaves and brew them into a tea. Instead of making you drink it, he would put it on your temples and on your forehead, putting fresh peppermint leaves on it. The intense smell would distract you from the pain. Forcing your senses to concentrate on the pleasant sting of the intense smell. It also slowly conditioned you to relax when you smelled peppermint. It did not matter to him if he had to sleep on the hard ground or on uncomfortable beds but he sure as hell would not let you sleep like that. He would put as many blankets as he found and furs on the bed. He even build the bed higher so it was easier for you to get in and out of bed. He would run you a bath and let you relax in the hot water before joining you. He would wash your hair which was your favorite thing before drying you off and dressing you in the softest nightgown you had ever felt. He had gotten Triss to enchant it so it would keep you warm or cool depending on what you needed and made it soft. He would light a fire and kiss and stroke your face until you fell asleep. He would like to hug you to him but he did not cause you any more pain so he would just hold your hand until you woke up. 

Sherlock:

He would be stiff and uncomfortable at first. He was not the best person at comforting people but he tried. He always had this air of distance, being an observer. So he figured out pretty quickly what was going on with you. In his typical fashion, he would read up on it. Interested in how your condition worked and affected the body. He would rely on medical knowledge to help you. Like herb teas to help you give your body the nutrients you needed. He would get you a wheelchair and bring you outside. It was good for you to go to the countryside and get some fresh air and sun. Even if you would be grumpy about it. He would lay down a blanket and get the servant to pack a basket. He would wheel you outside under a tree. He would put you down on the blanket and give you some tea and a piece of bread with your favorite jam on it. He knew he struggled with opening up and talking about his feelings or just talking in general with you. But he tried. So he would start out by reading to you, trying to keep your mind distracted. Once he was more comfortable with you he would put your head in his lap and tell you about a case he was working on, or a book he read, a fact he found most interesting. Sometimes when it seemed that you had fallen asleep he would whisper to you about a beautiful flower field he saw that he wished you had seen. It had reminded him of you and he knew you would like it. He would buy you dresses that were light and not too tight. Sometimes you would lay next to you, and kiss you softly on your forehead, nose, cheeks, and lips. “I always loved the adventure, the mystery, going from one place to the other. But I have to admit since meeting you I have treasure these moments more than anything. Thank you for teaching me a new part of life.” He would only whisper these things when he was laid next to you not looking at you. But it did not make it any less sweet. 

Walter:

He would have all kinds of gadgets for you. Like a head wrap where you can put ice cubes in it. He would wrap it around your head and lay a cold towel on your neck and shoulders. He knew your hand hurt so he would put you in a recliner he had bought for you so you were still sitting up but laid back a bit. He would put your hands with the palms up on the armrest and put cold wet towels from the freezer on your wrists to get the blood flowing. Once they were cooled down and almost numb he would sit in front of you letting you play with his curly hair. He knew how much you loved caressing through them and you knew how much he disliked it unless it was during sex. It was so intimate and it made him a bit uncomfortable scared that he would lose you to the bad people that he knew were out there. But his need for you to be better and more comfortable was greater so he would encourage you to start moving your hand by playing with his hair. He knew it was tough for you to move them, the motor practice causing you pain and exhaustion but your physical therapist had told you that you had to do this to loosen them. The recliner had a massage function that he would set while he made your favorite food and readied the TV to watch your comfort show. 

Henry: 

Once Henry realized what was going on with you he would be all hands on board. He would ask if he could come with you to the physical therapist so he could see what they do to ease the pain. Ask questions and what he can do to help you. He would buy a lounger like one they had in physical therapy. He would buy the oils and cremes he saw in the rooms. He would have it all set up in his gym. Either he would scoop you up and carry you there, apologizing over and over again for hurting you by carrying you. “I promise love. I will make it better just a bit longer okay. You gotta be strong for me. Can you do that baby?” He would have it all set up. Cooling the air down in the room, towel on the lounger, and your favorite nature sounds. He would put headphones in and before tell you to relax. He would start out slow getting you used to the feeling of him touching you. He did not want to start out too strong still fearful of hurting you. He had all the equipment so even after a long day of shooting he would at least spend 30 minutes every day helping you with physical therapy. And when you were in pain he would help you as long as you needed it. If he was on set and could not be there for you he made sure you had access to a physical therapist or any kind of massage therapist. He would also spend far too much money on gadgets that could potentially help you. Like a hand held massage toy with different applicators to get to the spot when he is not there. Especially during the night when he has a shoot on set. When he was not there he would still insist on you telling him if you were in too much pain so he could at least try and help you a bit. By sending you pictures of Kal and him and ordering food for you. He sometimes would call the florist and send you your favorite flowers. If there was one thing that was true about Henry it was that he took care of the people he loved and you were no exception. He would never make you feel like you were a burden. 

What do you guys think? Would they react that way? Or what would they do differantly? Please comment!

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[georgiapeach30513]

Napoleon Solo Masterlist

My Pet.  Mine.  Forever.

Wake Up Call COMING SOON -  A mess.  Your life was always a mess.  You should have been faithful to Ryan, especially since he was such a good father.  But your mutual boss was persistent.  Now ten years later will you be able to be faithful to your new husband?  A mess.  It’s what it always was.

[chellybean15]

Hi everyone! I decided I was gonna post more here since I have a couple stories in mind. If you would like to send in requests such as headcanons or drabbles, I would gladly write them. I write for Henry Cavill and his characters. I also will write for Spencer Reid. Have a lovely day!!