#napoleonic fanfic

[phatburd]

Chiaroscuro (6972 words) by whisper_that_dares

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Napoleonic Era RPF, Historical RPF, 19th Century CE RPF

Rating: E Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Joachim Murat/Jean-Baptiste Bessières Characters: Jean-Baptiste Bessières, Joachim Murat, Caroline Bonaparte, Géraud Duroc, Jean Lannes, Napoleon I de France | Napoleon Bonaparte (mentioned) Additional Tags: Angry Sex, Period Typical Attitudes, Polyamory Negotiations, Jealousy, Angst, Heartbreak, Historical Figures, Hopeful Ending, Bessimu, Podfic Welcome

Summary:

France, December 1799. Joachim Murat and Caroline Bonaparte are due to be married in a month, and absolutely everyone can see that they're in love with one another.

Jean-Baptiste Bessières sees it too. In public, he's been Murat's adoring and supportive friend. In private, as Murat's longtime lover, he's unraveling.

[cadmusfly]

custard [shippy soult/wellington snippet, ahistorical napoleonic rpf]

They could not have walked together like this, so surrounded by their respective men that they were. They could barely even have sat down together at the feast they just shared, capped off with a lovely meringue floating on a soup of vanilla custard.

"Crème anglaise for the Englishman," Soult said, and absolutely nothing about his facial expression indicated that it was the joke that it was meant to be.

But his interlocutor chuckled with the strained humour that it deserved. "I felt quite at home eating that!" said Wellesley. "Perhaps when you come to England, after the war, we will serve you some 'French toast', though I believe it is not actually French? It is bread soaked in egg-"

"Pain perdu. Lost bread, using bread unfit for other uses."

"Much like our soldiers! Of course, I am proud of my ragtag bunch, as you surely are of yours."

And at this, Soult actually smiled, though it was small and slight. "Of course," he said. "Hmmph- when I come to England, will it be as prisoner or victor, I wonder?"

Said Wellesley, "You will be treated very well either way."

"And I suppose you would be the one ensuring that?"

Wellesley's smirk was radiant. "As a conqueror, such a thing could only happen in dreams, so you would be crowned with all the gold they say you have. And as a prisoner, you would be mine, of course, and I do treat what I have caught with respect!"

"Not," said Soult, lips curled in a hungry sneer, "if I catch you first."

"And, pray tell, what will you do with your catch, unlikely as that would be?" asked Wellesley. "I confess, I do not think I would like to be displayed in the manner of your paintings, as beautiful as they are."

"I do not know." Soult sighed. "I have thought about it somewhat, ever since I espied you sleeping in that carriage. So slight, so small, so delicate…"

"How insulting!" Wellesley laughed. "I did not have such lurid thoughts about you when I caught sight of you, but perhaps I should have. Then perhaps I could have indulged in fantasies of being ravished by a devilish brute of a Frenchman!"

"Perhaps those fantasies could still come true." Soult's tone was flat and dark, but he did not look away from Wellesley. "Perhaps I am the devilish brute- what is it your men call me? The Duke of Damnation? Perhaps I could show you what hell looks like."

"Ah, Marshal Soult," said Wellesley, "I believe we are doing quite well in guiding each other into the depths of hell already. But perhaps it could be I who shows you a more personal hell tonight..?"

And all Soult said in response to that was a low and sly, "I would like to see you try."

Custard had clearly not been enough to sate their hungers.

A completely fictional and ahistorical attempt at writing a shippy Soult/Wellington snippet from the prompt "custard" given by @phatburd, Wellington being based on vague memories of the movie Waterloo and some of Sharpe

Set in a dream during the Peninsular War. I don't know anything about the Peninsular War. I don't know anything about Wellington. This interaction could not have happened in any way. I just wanted to write Soult/Wellington, and also something obviously shippy because I tend towards subtle and too much banter.

[overdecorated-furniture]

A new short fanfic for today! I apologise for the lack of posts on my Original works, but I have been really busy, and am bogged down in planning.

Once again, I am writing a very stupid crossover set in the Napoleonic wars, this time specifically dedicated to Lord Byron. It’s the bastard’s birthday, so thought I should write him an indulgent thing involving his hero Napoleon. And Arsène Lupin is there because two Frenchmen are better than one (and because I love Arsène too much not to put him in).

Hope you all enjoy this mental thing that I have written in a hurry and is not beta-ed. Something more thoughtful - and dark - will be coming out soon, as I am working on a Grindeldore fic.

Happy reading! 🌿

[xxsycamore]

❝ 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ❞

╰┈➤ ❤ You're overstimulated, and Napoleon is being a bully.

Napoleon Bonaparte/f!Reader • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Overstimulation; Multiple Orgasms; Creampie; Vaginal Sex; Teasing; Embarrassment; Crying; Dacryphilia; Dirty Talk; Begging; rough but also soft sex; Aftercare • wordcount: 2,048 • masterlist

a/n: I've been wanting to have a napo smut titled Crybaby for SO LONG NOW. Ever since that one event came out where he kept calling MC that. Knowing him, I think he might be into this...

"Napoleon… you're staring…"

Chest still rising and falling in labored breaths, you try to get the attention of the man seated between your legs, as he yet still fails to snap out of the trance on his own.

You know you can do this faster if you close your legs and devoid him of the view that so seems to interest him. But you don't -  on the excuse of the tiredness in your limbs.

The load of cum he'd put deep inside you just moments ago has now began to gush out and Napoleon's clear jade eyes, still clouded by lust, proudly follow the white rivulet down the curve of your slightly raised legs.

"I am."

He's shameless and blunt, knowing fairly well the effect it has on you. The embarrassment you're trying to evoke in him ricochets right back at you, as he makes you self-aware of the fact that you feel a certain way about him staring. At least enough to point it out.

Napoleon chuckles, easily making the tension dissipate as he leans down to place a peck against your pursed lips. He notices you trying to prop up on your elbows and is quick to gently push you back down.

"I'll take care of everything, just rest."

Still pouting because he's unfairly knightly as if he wasn't being a big tease just a second ago, you sink deeper into the soft embrace of the duvet, losing the inner fight too soon and letting yourself be pampered. Your eyes are closed by the time he returns, but you feel his presence as he climbs on the bed again.

You can't help the small shiver running down your lower half as your senses register a damp cloth grazing along your skin. The coolness it brings is not unwelcome on your overheated areas, and Napoleon is so gentle with you. He made a mess, it's only rightful for him to clean up after himself, after all.

You mewl as Napoleon's fingers brush past your clit. The added friction from the cloth makes his touch foreign and exciting to your sex, and you try not to fall too deep into the feeling because that's hardly the point. Even if the rational part of your brain understands that this is not Napoleon toying with you, the psychological part has other ideas.

But so does the man above you, encouraged by your lascivious sounds. He smirks and places his thumb right above the bundle of nerves at the apex of your folds, and drags his finger down slowly.

The moment the very edge of his fingertip comes in contact with your sweet spot, shockwaves strike through your core like lightning, making your lower half rise from the bed.

"Ahh!"

The smirk stays on Napoleon's face as he pretends to carry on with his task of cleaning you. His thumb grazes past your clit once more and you jump again, letting out a prolonged whimper.

He must be enjoying your reactions a little too much. While the sight of you writhing in pleasure entertains him every time he finds you underneath him, this time it's so much easier to pry them out, when you're overstimulated like that.

He knows better than to mess with you when you're spent and too sensitive, having earned his fair share of weak slaps against the arms or across his face for such indulgences.

Except, this time your protest never comes.

In the back of his head, he tells himself he's being way too cruel to you, but then he's reminded of your words. You're the one telling him time and time again not to hold back and to love you with all of his heart's intensity; and in the bedroom you're only more encouraging.

He flicks your clit with his finger once again, and your legs instinctively close against his arm.

And when you're being like that, he only falls harder for you.

The cloth is quickly discarded and forgotten as Napoleon makes himself more comfortable between your legs, like a big cat leisurely playing with its food until it's had enough. You peek from between half-closed eyelids, finding the sight of Napoleon's forearm sandwiched between your tightly shut legs. The muscles on it flexing because of the movement of his fingers where you can't see them; the vein running down the side of it becoming more prominent.

The sounds spilling from your lips are characteristic of the moments where he's fucking you so hard you forget to care about being too lewd; yet now he's doing so little and you're sounding so pathetic. Naturally, the back of your hand comes over your agape mouth in an ill-fated attempt to regain some of your decency. You subconsciously bite into the knuckles of it.

Napoleon eyes you with calculation among other things. He needs to be careful for the signs of you being too caught in it all to judge when it's too much, never taking the trust you put in him for granted.

He loves the way you squeeze his hand, even if it soon becomes numbing. He stokes your clit a little more to his best extent, the sensation now doing the opposite to you and making you part your legs wide, releasing him at last.

That only gives him an opening to attack, resuming his slow, firm strokes that make shockwaves run through you.

"Awww, you got wet again."

Your breath hitches, being caught by surprise despite how obvious it is that your body is bound to get aroused again under his ministrations. You watch in embarrassment as Napoleon cooes and gathers some of the lubrication you secreted and rotates his fingers in the air to show you the web-thin thread between them. With how well he cleaned you just awhile ago, your arousal now becomes only more prominent somehow.

When his thumb returns to your clit, it's slicked and the movement becomes more fluid, leaving you with no room to catch your breath between strokes. You let out more needy sounds as overstimulation and fresh arousal clash inside you.

"You're hurting yourself… Let's put that hand away."

Blinking in confusion, you need a moment to understand exactly what he means. As Napoleon gently guides your hand away from your mouth, you see the teeth marks you left on it. Napoleon's own hand follows your own until it falls safely to the side of your head, and he returns his gaze to yours.

There are physiological tears at the corners of your eyes.

Napoleon lets out a short and sharp laughing noise.

"Crybaby."

You toss your head to the side, only making the shiny dewdrops caught on your eyelashes more obvious to the man above you. Your lips are pursed in a permanent pout.

The warmth of Napoleon's hand on yours leaves you only to keep your left leg spread wide, as he quickens the pace of rubbing your clit. He strokes the overstimulation out of you, as your body gradually becomes more pliant and welcoming to his touch in a familiar old anticipation.

But for what it's worth, the slightly raw feeling at your core nudges those tears into finally spilling past your eyes.

Napoleon cooes at you again, leaning down until you feel his breath fanning over your cheek. He kisses your hot skin, his lips catching the tears. You wonder if your tears from pleasure arouse him.

"Crybaby."

He's such a bully.

Despite the obscene circumstances, he seems to find you nothing short of adorable, with the way he peppers you with kisses.

"My poor crybaby darling. What am I gonna do with you?"

The growing arousal makes you greedy and demanding, as you toss again, but this time in a provoking fashion. No, letting your body's language speak for you is not enough anymore, you need to spell it out for him.

"I feel so… empty…"

The momentary halt of his fingers gives him away, even if he pretends not to hear you. Your legs move frantically, switching between closing and opening in desperation. As horny as you are, your body will need more than that to be pushed over the edge. You have no choice but to try again.

"Napoleoooon… put it in… I need your cock again…please…?"

The small curve of that last word that emphasizes your begging does things to him, you know fairly well. He stares you down.

"How are you so sure that I can go again? Or have you been actually just trying to seduce me all this time?"

For a moment your eyes widen, finding reason in his question. Just because you're burning from the inside doesn't mean that Napoleon is also ready to-

The sensation of something hard rubbing against your inner thigh startles you.

Soothing is not the right word to describe this discovery, as Napoleon barely gives you time to rearrange your thoughts before he positions himself over you properly, guiding his swollen cockhead in.

Believing that your little midday love session was truly ending awhile ago, Napoleon had put on his trousers, even if leaving the belt to fasten only after he takes care of you. Now with the change of plans, he cares little about discarding his pants again, as fucking you on the spot is more important.

As a result, the buckle of his belt repeatedly clashes against the bed, the metal prong making a clinking sound that joins with the noises of copulation. Napoleon fucks you into the mattress, knowing he can go as fast and as wild as he wishes, neither of you bound to last long anyway.

The last traces of tears escape from the corners of your eyes that have watered one last time with the intrusion of his cock. Despite the sensitivity of your walls, your core remembers Napoleon's shape so well, greedily sucking him in as soon as he builds up a steady pace.

Your arms and legs lock around him, as if afraid that all of this is just another one of his tricks.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard— fill you to the brim—"

You all but scream against his chest as you can only receive his rapid pounding and wait for him to fulfill his promise. Your walls clamp down around him, desperately dragging him together with you in the pit of pleasure as you feel your orgasm approaching dangerously fast.

The noises of skin on skin fill your ears along with Napoleon's occasional swearing, cracking the composure of his otherwise not too filthy mouth. He slams his hips onto yours sloppily, losing all demure, and finally erupts inside you.

Reaching your peak together with him, you see stars behind your eyelids as Napoleon's cum paints your insides spurt by spurt. For a second among the euphoria you wonder if you feel so full because some of his cum from earlier was still trapped inside you.

The vice-tight grip of your arms around him turns into something softer, more reminiscent of an embrace. So does the hold Napoleon's strong hands have on your waist. As he settles you back down on the mattress from where you soared unnoticeably, your body tight as a string, you gradually begin to relax once more, melting together with him to a content pile of limbs.

Napoleon rains kisses on your face, from your forehead to the curve of your lip to your slightly damp cheeks.

"Now, what if I wanted to watch my cum leak down your thighs again?"

You can't believe him. Rolling over as if to avert your gaze in disdain, you turn your back to him.

He opens his mouth to bite back, preparing something along the lines of not deserving the cold treatment after how good he loved you, but he pauses. On wobbly legs, you arch your back and tuck your knees beneath you.

The sight is all but scandalous as Napoleon's load runs down your leg.

With forehead pressed against the bed, you let out a faux sigh, seeing how lost for words he seems to be.

"Just try not to get aroused again, Napoleon. Please."

Caressing the curve of your thigh up to your ass, Napoleon lets out a wry laugh, even if there's no actual bite to it.

"Look who's talking."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza @my-day6 @princess-pray-a Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[natimiles]

What is that? (a tattooed reader)

Summary: You tied your hair in a high ponytail that morning, and it was enough for the tip of your tattoo to be visible. You've had it for so long that you're used to it, and sometimes you forget it's there — plus, you forgot that they've never seen it before.

Words: 1716

Tags: reader have tattoos; platonic relationships; more like friendships; no pronouns for reader, but you wear a dress and have sort of long hair.

Can you tell I have favorites? Only Isaac, Mozart, Jean, Arhur, Vincent, Theo, Napoleon and Sebastian show up. Le Comte is vaguely mentioned.

If you're curious to see the tattoos, I linked their images in their respective descriptions throughout the fanfic.

“What is that, mademoiselle?” 

You're helping Sebastian with breakfast, moving around the dining room, but you’ve been feeling a strong stare for a while. You're already accustomed to everyone, so you don't mind. You knew that if it was Isaac trying to muster the courage to ask you something, he would eventually do it. But it’s Jean’s voice, and it catches your attention because he usually eats in silence; and he sounds unsure and curious.

You set Arthur’s coffee in front of him while you glance at the table and everything you and Sebastian made. Perhaps there's something he doesn't know, like when you baked him macarons, but today's menu is the same as usual.

“What is what?”

“That thing,” he points in your direction. 

Isaac, Mozart, Vincent, and Theo are already having breakfast too, but they pause to glance at you, curious about what Jean is talking about. You feel a bit self-conscious and briefly inspect your clothes. Did you spill something? Fortunately, no. 

“I don’t follow, Jean.”

“That thing you have here,” he points at his own back. “I’ve seen it since I sat here to eat, but I can’t understand.”

You raise an eyebrow at him and look over your shoulder, Arthur takes advantage that you’re still by his side to lean backwards on his chair and measure you up and down — and definitely stare at your ass.

“Stop it, perv,” you playfully spat the writer’s arm, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Ah, I think Master Jean is talking about your tattoo,” Sebastian tries to help, pointing at his own nape.

Realization finally hits you. Since arriving at the mansion, you've been exclusively wearing long clothes that cover almost your entire body. However, summer started a few weeks ago, and you've been feeling the full force of the heat. It's scorching every day, and at times, you wake up covered in sweat. You've been yearning for an air conditioner or even just a simple fan. So you bought lighter clothes recently — aka Comte bought you a whole summer wardrobe as a gift. What you're wearing today is just an off-the-shoulder dress, so the front and back necklines are a bit lower than usual, but not by much. However, you tied your hair in a high ponytail that morning, and it was enough for the tip of your tattoo to be visible. You've had it for so long that you're used to it, and sometimes you forget it's there — plus, you forgot that they've never seen it before.

“What is that?” Jean is even more curious now, evident from the way he furrows his brow.

“It's a drawing on my body, made with a special kind of paint that never fades. It's a form of art.”

“Really?” You've piqued Theo's interest in art. “And what is it?”

“Music,” and now you’ve piqued Mozart’s interest in music. He doesn’t really show it, but you know him well enough to see when he’s curious. “Well, kinda. It goes a little down my spine, but it’s safe to show. Sebastian, can you help me, please?”

The butler nods and approaches you. You turn your back and move your ponytail to the side for a better view, while Sebastian lowers your neckline slightly so the others can satisfy their curiosity and see it.

It starts just at the end of your nape and goes 5 inches down. It’s an all-black DNA drawing with musical notes on the middle lines, a representation of a metronome pendulum on top, and a treble clef at the bottom. The middle actually has the same number of lines as a music sheet, and the notes can be read as the first five notes of your favorite song.

There’s only silence for a few moments, and as you turn around, you see that they're still staring at you. You think Theo hadn't even blinked until now because he suddenly blinks a lot, and his eyes meet yours.

“It’s pretty!” Vicent smiles like the angel he is. “Is it a real song?”

“It is,” Mozart hums the notes, his eyes conveying that he knows it’s your favorite song.

You've told him once, when you went to the music room to give him an afternoon snack. You were already friends (kind of), so when you saw he wasn't there at the moment, you knew he wouldn't mind if you sat down and softly played it; so you did. The next thing you knew, he was barging into the music room to scold whoever had the audacity to touch his piano, but he stopped when he saw you. He may have asked you to write down the notes so he could play it with you.

“Oh, yeah, you played it for us in the last banquet,” Isaac remembers.

“Does it hurt?” Jean asked, curious again. 

“No, not anymore. It hurt when I was getting it done. Boy, that was one hell of a ride,” you laugh. “But it’s been years, so it’s all healed and okay now.”

“It suits you, hondje. Do you have more?”

“I do!” You beam at them, feeling all bubbly inside. It's lovely how they always show interest in anything about you and remember what you like. “It’s on my thigh.” You use the tip of your toes to put more leverage on your right leg, grabbing a fistful of the skirt of your dress. You lift it to show them your tattoo, but a hand stops you when it's reaching your knee.

“Nunuche, what the hell?” 

Napoleon had just woken up and was joining you in the dining room. Did you say something about your thigh? He was still a little sleepy, so he thought he heard you wrong. But then you grabbed your dress… What the fuck do you think you’re doing? He was at your side in the blink of an eye, gripping your wrists tightly and looking at you with a panic expression. It’d certainly be red in a second, if the loud slap sound was any indication. 

And that’s how you make vampires choke on their foods and drinks. You look at them, a confused expression on your face. Isaac spat his tea all over his plate and is now coughing to clear his throat. Jean dropped his fork, frozen in his chair. Mozart is blinking in a frenzy, his mug in such a tight grip on his hand that his knuckles are white. Vincent is blushing furiously, his mouth agape. Theo is actually amused, and you clearly heard Arthur complaining to Napoleon that it was just getting good. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, startled. 

“MC, just remember we’re not in the 21st century,” Sebastian says, clearly holding a smirk. 

You feel your entire face heat up. Oh my God! That was certainly an uncomfortable situation. But you were so used to them; they made you feel at home, so you didn’t really think about what you were doing.

“Oh, right, sorry,” You chuckle and blush under the intensity of their stares. “But it’s no big deal, really. Sebastian and le Comte have already seen it.”

“Say that again?” Theo asks as his gaze drifts to the butler, just like everyone else's. 

“It’s nothing weird!” You can almost feel the emperor’s grip tightening. Sometimes he was so overprotective — they all were, and it was both endearing and funny. You huff. “We were talking about the 21st century, and I told Sebas that I have tattoos and showed him. Simple as that. Lots of people wear clothes that show a lot of skin in modern days. Do you think I would lift my dress to show the tattoo when I’m right next to Arthur if it wasn’t okay?” You deadpan Napoleon.

“Hey!” The writer complains, but everybody ignores him. You do have a point.

Napoleon frowns, but slowly releases you. You look at the others and just from a look they know you’ll be mad if they freak out again, so they try to act cool. Keyword: try. They’re staring so much you think they’ll open a hole in your thigh, but at least they’re quiet. You lift the dress just a little more and your tattoo is finally showing. It’s colorful and about the same size as the other. There’s white fine lines connecting dots, forming the Leo constellation, with a blue-purple watercolor background.

“Yes, luv! Now that’s a good breakfast,” Arthur smirks and places his elbow on the table to support his head as he looks at you. He’s so glad that Jean started this conversation while you were still beside him. Napoleon purses his lips and glares at the writer, but he knows better than to start a fight. His nunuche wouldn't let him live it down. 

“What the fuck is that?” Theo raises an eyebrow. Don’t get him wrong, he likes the art, but he just doesn’t understand what it’s supposed to be.

“Theo, language,” Vincent scolds his brother. He doesn’t want you to think they don’t like it.

“Is it upside down?” Jean frowns and tilts his head, trying to get a different angle, but it doesn’t make a difference.

"It's the Leo constellation," you chuckle and glance at Isaac, knowing he would understand. He enjoyed stargazing and always invited you to join him, especially after discovering your shared interest — then he started rambling about physics and astronomy, and you were lost.

“Oh, the stars,” Vincent says.

"So," Theo begins, and you can tell from his amused tone that he's about to say something to make you blush, "you have one that resembles Mozart and another that resembles Isaac."

“No, no. It’d have to be an apple for Newt,” Arthur grins when the poor physicist blushes as red as… the mentioned fruit.

“You’re the worst,” Isaac mumbles under his breath.

You chuckle at their banter. “So that’s it,” you say, releasing your dress. “We have a lot of things to do. So finish your breakfasts quickly.” You clap your hands twice.

“Indeed,” Sebastian nods in agreement.

You have moments of silence after that and you go back to work, but you feel the stares the whole day. You know they still have so much to say and ask, but they stay quiet.

You have some “not-so-permanent tattoos” now — and they might have helped do some.

I don't have tattoos yet, but I really want it. I'd make the first one, but with colors.

Crossposted on AO3.

Masterlists

[archduchessofnowhere]

It's always so funny to me when directors/writers of poorly researched historical dramas get mad when people point out the poor research. "Oh no how dare the people who enjoy actual history to watch the history-based show!" Bestie who did you thought was going to be your audience???

[burningvelvet]

I've been considering different ideas for historical fiction novels about the Romantics and one of my concepts teeters into the realm of the alternate history subgenre. As a result, I decided to start doing some preliminary research on the history of the subgenre itself. Then I find this...

Of course I've known that there have been a bunch of historical fiction & alternate history novels made about the Romantics throughout time (maybe most famously Henry James' Aspern Papers in 1888). BUT I DIDN'T KNOW THEY WERE RESPONSIBLE FOR INSPIRING THE WHOLE SUBGENRE!!!

The Romantics/Georgians were so iconic they inspired their fans to invent historical fanfiction over a hundred years ago & we're still writing it... their impact...!!!

But tbf I should have known Byron would be involved somehow because most roads of modern literature often point back to him & his cult of personality — & practically everyone who knew him or was inspired by him ended up writing books about him, whether fiction or nonfiction.

[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-masterlist]

🎧Elle the Space Unicorn's Masterlist🎧

Reader inserts will have no descriptors, OFCs will be black and plus-sized(unless otherwise stated). I love being able to give girls/femmes who look like me the chance to romance some of their faves.

🎧Bless my current muse...🎧

I love to write fanfiction. Right now, my main muse is Henry Cavill. But I also like some Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan characters (see below who I will write for - send prompts or requests to @ellethespaceunicorn HERE).

Buy Me A Ko-Fi? | AO3 | Author Recs | Fic Recs | Headcanon Recs | Fic Prompts | Fic Title Ideas | Words to use instead of ‘said’ | WIP List | 2023 Fanfiction Wrapped | 2023 Character Wrapped

Masterlist is under the Cut...

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing)

Love, Napoleon (ongoing)

Scrapbook (finished)

Daddy Knows Best (possibly on hiatus)

Don't Take My Sunshine Away (possibly on hiatus)

Touch and Go (possibly ongoing)

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

What Are You Doing, StepBro?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Humphrey x Stepsister!Reader

Summary: You and Humphrey don’t have the best start, but before long you will reach an arrangement.

Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sub!Clark Kent x Domme!Reader

Summary: Clark needs to give over to his submissive urges, specifically he yearns to be tied up and owned.

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader

Summary: Napoleon wines and dines.

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director's Cut] {DARKER FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Some Things You Just Can’t Refuse

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Happy Birthday, Cupcake

Rating: General

Pairing: Clark Kent x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark surprises you for your birthday.

Treat Me Like A Slut

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Summary: August has had enough of your antics, and you’re going to pay for it.

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Don't Take Your Eyes Off It

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader 

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Don't Kill My Vibe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Fifteen Minutes

Character: Walter Marshall x Unnamed Black!OFC

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What Walter does with 15 minutes of his time.

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Pairing: Syverson x Reader 

Rating: Mature

Summary: When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU.

Pretty As A Picture

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What started as a hobby day in the park turns into Lloyd Hansen showing you why taking photos of strangers is a bad idea.

Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Oxytocin

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC

Summary: At a New Year's Eve party, Ransom Drysdale's life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington.

My Little Strawberry

Pairing: Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Rating: Mature

Summary: A follow-up to Shape Up. Sy has a conversation with his baby girl while she’s still in your stomach. 

Doing Something Unholy

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Reader

Summary: This is a prompt fill for some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over.

Praise You

Rating: General, pure fluff

Pairing: Clark Kent x Insecure PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark Kent loves everything about you, especially what you think are your flaws.

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

Summary: You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!

Shape-Up

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cpt Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Summary: Syverson and his girl, Peaches, try and trim his beard without causing a ruckus. Spoiler alert: they fail.

Follow-up to Shape-Up: My Little Strawberry

The Paganini Problem

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Summary: Being Sherlock’s wife proves to be difficult when a case stumps him.

Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Walter Marshall - Hobbies

Lloyd Hansen - Family, Quirks/Hobbies, Sleep

Lloyd Hansen - What happens when reader starts dressing to match lloyd?

Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Clark Kent (Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League)

Humphrey (Stardust)

Charles Brandon (The Tudors)

Mike (Hellraiser: Hellworld)

Napoleon Solo (The Man from U.N.C.L.E.)

August Walker (Mission: Impossible - Fallout)

Will Shaw (The Cold Light of Day)

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes films)

Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)

Evan Marshall (Blood Creek)

Melot (Tristan and Isolde)

Thomas Apreas (Hotel Laguna)

Chas Quilter (The Inspector Lyndley Mysteries)

Stephen Colley (I Capture the Castle)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR HENRY

Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man)

Andy Barber (Defending Jacob)

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out)

Steve Rogers (Avengers films)

Curtis Everett (Snowpiercer)

Ari Levinson (The Red Sea Diving Resort)

Nick Gant (PUSH)

Jake Jensen (The Losers)

Frank Adler (Gifted)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR CHRIS

Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

Charles Blackwood (We Have Always Lived in the Castle)

Steve Kemp (Fresh)

Max (Sharper)

Nick Fowler (The 355)

Lee Bodecker (The Devill All The Time)

Chris (Destroyer)

Justin Capshaw (Law & Order)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR SEBASTIAN

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz, so far only these categories 😁 Let me know if you ever want to be removed!

General Fanfiction (Everything)

Henry Character Fanfiction

Chris Character Fanfiction

August Walker

Bright Like The Moon

Love, Napoleon!

Daddy Knows Best

Don't Take My Sunshine Away

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest

~Please DON'T ask me to tag you in a series that you've never 'liked' or 'reblogged'. It's just kind of rude. Also, don't ask for an ETA on the next chapter.~

*Blog Header, Cover Art for fics, Masterlist Header/MDNI 18+ Banner, Support/Reblog banner and Masterlist Dividers made by me in Canva*

[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  😁**

[phatburd]

Chiaroscuro (3979 words) by whisper_that_dares

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Napoleonic Era RPF, Historical RPF, 19th Century CE RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Joachim Murat/Jean-Baptiste Bessières Characters: Jean-Baptiste Bessières, Joachim Murat, Caroline Bonaparte, Géraud Duroc, Jean Lannes, Napoleon I de France | Napoleon Bonaparte (mentioned) Additional Tags: Angry Sex, Period Typical Attitudes, Polyamory Negotiations, Jealousy, Angst, Heartbreak, Historical Figures, Hopeful Ending, Bessimu, Podfic Welcome

Summary:

France, December 1799. Joachim Murat and Caroline Bonaparte are due to be married in a month, and absolutely everyone can see that they're in love with one another.

Jean-Baptiste Bessières sees it too. In public, he's been Murat's adoring and supportive friend. In private, as Murat's longtime lover, he's unraveling.

Special thanks to @apurpledust, @flowwochair, and @mandatorycommunistbrunchhour and whole bunch of other people whose handles escape me at the moment. 💗

[aquagirl1978]

Leonardo? Napoleon? Who?

Inspired by a post by @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

Arthur: *sees a crowd standing around MC's bedroom door* Hey, what's going on?

Dazai: We're trying to find out who is in there with Toshiko-san.

*Arthur immediately presses his ear to the doorway*

MC: *moaning* ...leo...

Arthur: *looks around* Where's Leonardo?

Theo: Sleeping...in the corner.

Leonardo: *snores*

Arthur: Napoleon?

Jean: *walks past group in hallway* What are you all doing?

MC: *moaning louder* ....LEO....

Sebastian: Napoleon and MC are in the bedroom together.

Jean: Impossible. I just saw Napoleon leave his room.

Arthur/Theo/Dazai: *look at each other* Impossible...

Napoleon: *whistling while walking down the hallway* Good morning...what's going on that you're all gathered here?

Arthur: If you're out here, and *points to the sleeping Leonardo* he's out here, then who's in there with MC?

********

Elsewhere, at Vlad's castle...

Vlad: Someone was eating my strawberries again. *eyes Charles*

Charles-Henri: It wasn't me, must have been one of these new guys you brought in.

Drake: Don't look at me, I didn't eat them. Must have been Galileo.

Vlad: Speaking of Galileo, he's not here. Anyone know where he is?

Faust: He said something about visiting one of the residents at Comte's mansion.

[geralts-yenn]

Geralt-Yenn's Masterlist

Hi! Thank you for taking a look at my materlist! Here you find a bunch of stories in which I put all kinds of Henry Cavill shaped characters.

Most of these stories contain content not suitable for minors, so if you're under 18, please do not read!

Do not copy, translate or post my work anywhere else! I explicitly forbid using my work to feed AI!

What I do encourage you is to reblog my stories. Every little bit of feedback is welcome!

List by character under the cut:

Your majesty (drabble; VampireKing!August/reader) 🔥

a lesson in obedience (VampireKing!August/reader/ofc) 🔥

Believe in me (modern AU vampire!Melot/ofc) 🌩 🔥 💕

bonfire (Sy/reader) 🌩 🔥 💕

summary: After months you finally see Sy again. But how will he react to you after he cancelled his date before he left?

Something like that (Sy/reader) 🔥 💕

summary: follow-up of bonfire - Sy finally takes you on a date

Part 1, Part 2

mother's day (drabble; Sy/reader) 💕

Yearning (drabble; Sy/reader) 🌩 💕

Believe in me (modern AU vampire!Melot/ofc) 🌩 🔥 💕

I need you now (Evan Marshall/reader) 💕

summary: After an accident your cute neighbor takes care of you

Brothers and Beers (drabble; Evan Marshall/reader) 💕 (Evan's pov on 'I need you now')

Fighting demons (Evan Marshall/reader) 🌩 🔥 💕 part 2 of 'I need you now'

summary: You've been in a relationship with Evan for a while now, but somehow you are still stuck on first base. You start questioning if he's really that into you.

Believe in me (modern AU vampire!Melot/ofc) 🌩 🔥 💕

Ray of Sunshine (modern AU Melot/ofc) 🔥 💕

summary: just some fluffy, smutty summer dream with a tattooed biker Melot

Hearts Too Big (modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🌩 🔥 💕

summary: Nina goes on a camping trip with her boyfriend Mel and his cute neighbor Mike. Plenty of feelings - that’s the whole plot

Bubbles (drabble; modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

Bottom (drabble; modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

A very merry birthday (modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

summary: The boys are celebrating Christmas and more importantly, Nina's birthday

 the natural thing to do  (Mikey/reader) 🔥 💕

summary: After another breakup, instead of your best friend you only find her brother Mikey at her home. The guy you had a crush on since you were 12…

pranked (Mikey/reader) 🔥 💕

summary: your babysitter job took some turns that you couldn't have forseen...

caught for sillyrabbit81’s milestone celebration 2023 (Mikey/reader) 🔥 💕

follow-up of pranked, but both stories can be read separately

date night with Mikey (drabble; Mikey/reader) 💕

ice cream, brownies and a hug (drabble; Mikey/reader) 💕

Hearts Too Big (modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🌩 🔥 💕

summary: Nina goes on a camping trip with her boyfriend Mel and his cute neighbor Mike. Plenty of feelings - that’s the whole plot

Bubbles (drabble; modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

Bottom (drabble; modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

Fakin' it (Mikey/reader) 🌩 🔥 💕

summary: To win back your ex-boyfriend, you decide to fake date your best friend. What could go wrong? 

Zoom (mini drabble; Mikey/reader) 💕

A very merry birthday (modern AU Melot/ofc/Mike) 🔥 💕

summary: The boys are celebrating Christmas and more importantly, Nina's birthday

anahita (Napoleon Solo/ofc) 🔥

summary: After a hard job in Isfahan, Napoleon tries to lose some tension in the hamam of his client, the Shah

Memories (Walter Marshall/ofc) 🌩 🔥 💕

summary: At your brother's wedding you have to face a ghost from your past - Walter Marshall - and you find yourself lost in memories

Part 1, Part 2

Hollow Hearts (Walter Marshall/reader) 🌩 🌩 🌩 (💕)

summary: you break up with Walter but you just can't let go

Hollow Hearts (bonus chapter) (Walter Marshall/reader) 🔥 💕

summary: you and Walter take care of each other (basically porn without plot, can be read without knowing the main story)

Headcanons / multiple characters:

Lazy morning sex 🔥

On-going series:

Inspo boards for my stories

Fluff = 💕 Smut = 🔥 Angst = 🌩

Collection of all my stories - follow to get notifications on new fics:

Yenn-writes

[xxsycamore]

❝ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬? ❞

╰┈➤ ⁉️ Everyone is acting so strange today, and Sebastian seems to be the only one noticing it.

Sebastian, Comte, Napoleon, Theodorus, Vincent, Mozart, Jean, Arthur, Isaac, Leonardo, Dazai • rating: G • tags: April Fools' Day; Pranks and Practical Jokes; poor sebas; Humor; Crack • wordcount: 1,682 • masterlist

a/n: HAPPY APRIL FOOLS! After Dazai pranking everyone and then everyone pranking Dazai, it seems like this year's target is Sebas…

It's not every day that Sebastian allows himself the indulgence of enjoying a drink with his masters, even when they so generously invite him to the table in the game room. The events of last night are but a blur in his memory now, as he's not the best at holding his liquor and neither has their immunity to hangovers. But a butler must be prim and proper at all times! While he's on duty, that's it. So that's why he allowed himself the fun of last night, but is readily up and out of his bed early in the morning today.

He enters the kitchen, humming the tune to Mozart's Turkish March in this tranquil moment of being the only soul awake in the whole mansion, on his way to begin preparing breakfast-

"Oh, good morning Sebas. I'm already done with some things here, figured I might help you."

"My! What a nice surprise Monsieur Napoleon, thank you."

Huh.

"M-M-M-Monsieur Napoleon what are you doing here????"

"Helping you with breakfast."

"No, gods, I was wondering why are you awake at such an early hour-"

Napoleon looks at him dumbfounded. And so does Sebas, mirroring him. Granted, there are dark circles under his eyes but that hardly does anything about the vigor with which he moves the frying pan and multitasks with the preparation of another ingredient at the same time.

"Is it that strange that I felt like waking up earlier today?"

Well, yes it is! That's what Sebastian wants to shout at the top of his lungs, but he can only blink mesmerized instead. Fearing that he might offend him in some way if he keeps this up, he saves his confusion to himself and gets back on track with his task.

The breakfast preparation goes on swimmingly with Napoleon's help, even if he strangely seems to have forgotten how to cook all of a sudden so he needs some serious memory refreshment... Sebastian blames it on his lack of sleep, of course that would be the reason.

Soon the dining room begins filling with the real early-bird residents that pose no surprises for Sebastian, and the plates are already waiting in front of them like clockwork.

"Pancakes again? I'm starting to get tired of this. You got something else for me, Sebastian?"

The sound of pots and pans falling to the floor greatly concerns the van Gogh brothers at the table after the younger one's question, but soon after the butler emerges from the kitchen with a haphazardly pieced-together English breakfast. He places it in front of Theodorus who asked for the change, waiting. Waiting to see if he's going to eat it at all.

"Here you go, master Theodorus. Do you need extra jam, or-"

"No need, looks more than enough to me. Why are you staring at me like that? Is it poisonous?"

"Gods, no, how could it be! I'm merely...surprised is all."

Vincent chuckles a little at the exchange, preparing to dig in on his portion of...pancakes, fortunately. But he pauses.

"Theo, would you hand me the syrup? I feel like eating something sweeter today!"

"Stand up and take it yourself."

Sebastian's eyes are about to pop out of his eye sockets.

"Messieurs, is everything alright with-"

The door opens with a bang that belongs to no gentlemen living in this household.

And certainly not to Le Comte de Saint-Germain.

"'morning."

"M-monsieur le Comte, what are you wearing?"

Comte's casual walk to his place at the head of the table with hands in his pockets is rivaled only by the even more casual look he sports today, with a halfway-open shirt and a pair of checkered trousers that don't really match. To finish off the look, his hair is a mess. He lands with a thud on his chair, raising his feet to rest crossed on the table.

"What am I wearing? Since when did you start asking so many questions?"

"I'm terribly sorry."

Comte sighs and snaps his fingers repeatedly in the air. "Coffee. Now."

"I already brew a pot of your preferred morning tea-"

"Don't make me repeat myself, butler."

"I got it."

On his way to the kitchen, Sebastian overhears Comte slamming his fist on the table telling everyone that from now on, they'll be paying rent.

Sebastian must be sleeping. This has to be some kind of nightmare. There's no other logical explanation.

When he returns to the dining room the door opens to welcome another couple of residents - Jean and Mozart.

"Good morning Herr Mozart. Good morning to you too, Monsieur Jean, what a surprise!"

Mozart and Jean both turn to Sebastian...and they give him their brightest smiles. Imaginary flowers bloom in the air around them. They greet in a cheerful voice together as one, and it's the most beautiful melody. "Good morning, Sebastian!"

"We decided to grab a bite before our trip to town today."

"Your... your what?"

"That's right, I'll be taking Jean in town with me. The carriage is already waiting at the gate."

Mozart going to...town?? With a carriage?? With Jean??

"Aha! The trace of this bloody delicious smell seems to have led me to this dining room!"

Now what? Sebastian turns in the direction of Arthur's voice albeit it sounds a little different than usual, as if he's playing a role... and there he is, having just entered the dining room... with a looking glass in his hand and a pipe in his mouth.

"Good morning, Master Arthur. Your observation skills are on point as always. What's with the curious accessories?"

Sebastian doesn't know why he asks anymore.

"Why, I'll be going on a Sherlock Homles book fair later today! You know it's all the hype these days, I figured it's the best place to learn something about my beloved character that I don't know. You know my methods, Watson. Haha!"

Thank god, Sebastian is not the only one about to faint right now. Given how normal everything else was taken by his housemates. Theo says the one thing Sebastian couldn't bring himself to say.

"This idiot has reached rock bottom in his search for skirts he hasn't yet fooled around with."

Arthur looks...grossed out. As if he's been made fun of by Dazai, or something similar. Actually, there haven't been a great deal of chances to see Arthur sporting this expression. It's definitely strange.

"Theo, could you not be so foul-mounted, please? You know I hold no interest in the fair sex."

"A-Are you feeling well, Master Arthur? Maybe when you drink your coffee-"

"Ah no please, tea it is for me!"

"Are you feeling well, Master Arthur?????"

"Sebastian seems really uptight today. Are YOU feeling well, Sebastian? Why don't you sit with us for a while?" Jean smiles at him again. It's a smile Sebastian wants to protect. It should be automatically making him feel better but it only serves to increase his confusion. He even sat next to Comte. Comte doesn't deserve this! At least not with his current behavior. Oh how strange of a thought that is.

"I appreciate your concern, but, I just need to know what is happening with all of you today. I can't be calm until I ensure that you, my masters, are alright, and I demand you tell me what is happening this instant!"

A near dozen pairs of eyes blink at Sebastian as if he's indeed the crazy one. He sits down on the offered chair, then quickly stands up again. "No, please tell me what is-"

The door opens yet again and this time it's Leonardo and Isaac who enter. Sebastian paces left and right, trying to spot empty plates to take to the kitchen before he can witness anything weird again-

"Isaac, mio amico, can you please not smoke in here? You know I can't stand the smell..."

"AAAAAAAGH!" Sebastian yells, breaking his professional image and running straight towards the door. He can't do this. It doesn't matter if he escapes now. It's just a nightmare. Just a nightmare-

He nearly crashes into the person entering at the same time.

"Hello Sebas-kun~"

Through the DOOR?

Sebastian breaks. Like a stone statue slammed by the pressure of a cataclysm despite the decades of stoicism, even if he thought he'd seen everything...

He falls to his knees in defeat.

...

...

"APRIL FOOLS'!"

Before he has a chance to remove his hands from his eyes where he tried to block the world, a wave of residents quite literally falls over him, each embracing him and laughing.

Okay, NOW he's confused.

"April fools? But- But my calendar said it's-"

"Someone had a little too much to drink last night and had to be carried to his room... let's say we meddled a little with it. Sorry, Sebas." Napoleon pats his shoulder. "Okay, can I go to sleep now?"

Sebastian laughs, and despite what he predicted for himself just a minute ago, it's not out of descending to madness. It's a genuine laughter, one he hasn't had in a while.

"I would never guess you could be capable of doing such a thing! Every one of you! My god, you got me quite well."

"Heh, guess you don't know us well enough then, eh? Remember this well, some of those guys are going to remember it for the rest of their second lives." Leonardo says, finally lighting that cigarillo. Good thing they didn't have to put on the act for longer than that.

"Indeed. I hope we weren't too harsh on you, Sebastian. My residents are always such naughty boys." Comte consoles, suspiciously looking as if it was his idea all along.

Sebastian chuckles some more, then he stands to his feet, dusting off his uniform and letting out a small cough behind his fist.

"My masters, that was indeed too naughty of you! I appreciate seeing you have fun, and I have to admit, you got me well. But that doesn't mean I won't find it fitting to flick some foreheads."

"Sebaaas, can we please have our usual breakfast now?"

"Why yes, coming right away!"

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[nobunagas-chatelaine]

Ikemen Vampire reaction to MC wanting a hug from them

1. Napoleon Bonaparte

He'd rub his eye open and give you a sleepy half hug but then his arms would fall on the small of your back and Napoleon would instantly pull you inside the covers with him. He then shows you a naughty smirk as he tickles your sides -

"Lay with me for awhile Nunuche"

2. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

He hugs you grumpily saying that he was busy composing pieces and kisses your head. You giggle at your cute boyfriend and tiptoe to kiss him but he moves away and inspects your face -

"What's with the sudden affection are you feeling unwell?"

3. Leonardo Da Vinci

He chuckles when you ask him that and still picks you up in his arms and places playful kisses across your shoulder and collarbones. You two then end up making out only to find Sebastian looking at you wide-eyed-

"I guess they found out about our little secret cara mia"

4. Arthur Conan Doyle

He moves side to side and plays hard to get so you two end up chasing each other in the garden and at last you spring out from a bush and tackle him down and give him a nice and long smooch-

"Luv, if you wanted me that bad you could've just said so."

5. Isaac Newton

Surprisingly Isaac smiles at you and pulls you to his chest his exhaustion long forgotten. He strokes the sides of your face and goes to sleep hugging you like that.

"Sleep well my darling"

6. Jean D' Arc

Jean wasn't a big fan of cuddles early on in the relationship but now he'll paractically melt if you hug him. Your lovely smell relaxing him.

"Don't tell this to anyone but I find your hugs very comforting."

7. Comte De Saint Germain

He smiles at you and hugs you tight. Maybe he'll procrastinate his paper work for a while and snuggle with you. *Wink wonk*

"You know you don't have to ask for a hug right, cherie?"

8. Sebastian/ Akihiko Satou

He's a busy man so he'll give you a quick hug and place a soft kiss on your brow showing you a guilty smile. You can't blame him though, it sure is hard taking care of a mansion full of vampires.

"Allow me 5 more minutes my love, I'll attend to you shortly."

9. William Shakespeare

He knew you were under the weather so it doesn't take much time for him to spread his arms wide for you and cradles your face in his hands placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"Fair maiden of mine, do tell what is the reason behind all your worries."

10. Vincent Van Gogh

He puts down his paintbrush and gives you a bright smile. He kisses you on the cheek and hugs you tight, still giving light kisses on your nape and ears.

"Would you like to see me paint my Schatje ?"

11. Theodorous Van Gogh

He blushes and grumbles how you shouldn't be doing things like this and just hug him whenever you like. Lets you sit on his lap and play with his hair.

"Don't mess up my hair too much Hondje, or I'll have to tickle you down."

12. Dazai Osamu

The writer picks you up spins you around as sounds of pure joy erupt from both of you. He sets you down and gives you an adorable bear hug, his hugs sure are the best.

"You're real adorable, you know that right?"

[writingwhimsey]

How about 13 with Napoleon? 🥺 Did i hear mating season?? 👀

Thank you for the request! This one was fun! Hope you're ready for some super spicy Napoleon who wants nothing more than to mate with you over and over again!

Smut is In the Air Event

Suitor: ikevamp Napoleon

Prompt: "Get back down here, we're not done yet."

NSFW 18+ content

Mating Season

I walked into Le Comte’s study. “Sebastian said you wanted to see me?” I asked as I stepped inside.

“Ah, yes, come have some tea with me, ma cherie.” Le Comte greeted me with a warm smile. “I just had something I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Oh?” I asked, sitting down in a chair opposite Comte as he poured tea for the two of us. “What is it?”

“Well…it’s more of a warning I feel I should give you.”

“A warning? About what? Has there been something happening in town?” I asked, worried.

“No, nothing like that.” Le Comte replied. “I just thought with spring being in the air, I should tell you about something that can happen to vampires, at least for those who have found someone they love.”

“Yes?”

“Sometimes…during spring after, finding a lover, some vampires…experience a…mating season if you will, during the spring.” Comte explained.

“Mating season?” I asked.

“Yes, female vampires will experience a, something like a heat and male vampires will go into …something like a rut. Experiencing very intense desires to be with the one they love and possibly conceive a child.”

“Are…are you saying this might happen with Napoleon?” I asked, my eyes going wide as my cheeks reddened.

“It’s possible, but the desire might not be as strong with a lesser vampire as it would be with a pureblood vampire.” Comte said. “But I thought you should know so you can be prepared.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Comte.” I replied.

Comte and I chatted a few more moments before I was returning to my chores. My mind couldn’t help but to wander to my conversation with Comte. Nor could I stop myself from thinking what it might be like if Napoleon did experience this rut, mating season thing. We had been discussing the possibility of having children recently…and if he really wanted to and had such an intense desire…could I ever really resist? I don’t think I could.

I found myself in the room Napoleon and I shared, putting away the days laundry and changing the sheets. I was bent over the bed, smoothing out the sheets when I felt two strong, familiar arms wrap around my waist. He pulled me closer and I felt his nose nuzzling against my neck.

“Napoleon…”

“Mmmm…nunuche, you…smell extra sweet today.” He breathed into my ear.

I felt a shiver run down my spine. Was this what Comte was talking about. “Oh? I haven’t done anything special.” I replied.

“No, new perfume?” Napoleon asked, sliding his nose along my neck as he breathed in my scent.

“N-no…”

“Then…it must be you, nunuche.” He said, placing a kiss on the side of my neck. “It’s quite an intoxicating scent.”

“N-Napoleon…” I gasped as yet another delightful shiver made its way down my spine. “I-I need to…finish up my…work for the day.” 

“Mmm…you can always get back to that later, nunuche.” Napoleon replied, his voice practically a purr in my ear. His hand moved to undo the top few buttons of my shirt. He was then opening my collar so that he could place nibbling kisses along the side of my neck and shoulder. “I can’t possibly think of letting you go right now.”

“Mmm…ngh…” I moaned with each kiss. “W-what can…you think of doing then?” I asked, my voice coming out raspier than I intended.

“Mmm…you.” Napoleon answered. “I can’t help myself…all I want to do is make love to you…and perhaps…get you pregnant…I can’t help but to think you would be even more beautiful carrying a baby we made together…”

His hand was slipping inside my open shirt then, moving to fondle my breasts even as his lips continued their sweet attack on my neck and shoulder. It seemed he was being affected by the mating season Comte had warned me about…but my mind was starting to become hazy and all I could think about was Napoleon’s hands and lips on me and how much I wanted him. Besides… he was the man I loved…I did want children with him…and he did make it sound rather nice…

His other hand slid down my thigh and then up under my skirt. He pushed my panties aside and then slid his fingers to stroke my sensitive bud. “Ahn…N-Napoleon…” I moaned as I found myself grinding myself into his hand, seeking further stimulation.

“Mmm…you’re already so wet for me.” He murmured in my ear as he moved his fingers back further to slide into my slick heat. “You want me as much as I want you.”

“Yes…Napoleon…yes…please…” I found myself begging, wanting him to fill me and pound me into the mattress.

“Then who am I to say no?” Napoleon said before bending me back over the bed and lifting my skirt. He ripped my panties off and then I heard him unbuckling his pants and then they were hitting the floor. I didn’t have anymore time to think before I felt him slipping inside me.

“Ahn…yes!” I moaned at the feeling.

Napoleon began to thrust, leaning down over me, continuing to kiss me even as he tore my blouse off, allowing him to plant kisses over my back. “You’re…so beautiful…and you feel so good…” He murmured against my skin between thrusts. 

“Mmmnn…yes…ah…Napoleon…” I moaned as I felt that white hot heat building up inside me, winding tight like a coil before finally snapping and sending me over the edge.

Napoleon soon joined me in release, spilling inside me.

I had just started to catch my breath when Napoleon suddenly flipped me over onto my back. He practically tore off the rest of his clothes and mine before throwing my ankles up over his shoulders. I was moaning as he once again slid inside me and began to pound me into the bed,

Again and again, we changed positions as his hands mapped my body and his lips lavished me in affection. Both of us finding release multiple times. I had honestly lost count. I had just rolled over, from having ridden him, lying on my back and panting as I tried to catch my breath.

Napoleon leaned over and kissed my shoulder delicately. “Mmm, I love you.” He murmured.

I smiled. “I love you, too.” I was then turning to look out the window, taking note of the position of the sun. “Oh…it’s getting late. I should go finish my chores…” I had started to get up, but Napoleon grabbed me by the wrist.

I turned to look at him, a questioning look on my face. “Napoleon?”

“Where do you think you’re going, nunuche?” He asked, a devilish grin on his face.

“What…”

“Get back down here, we’re not done yet.” Napoleon said as he tugged on my wrist and pulled me back into bed, his hands moving to my hips and bringing them to meet his own so that he was once again sliding inside me.

“Mmm…Nap-Napoleon…” I moaned. It appeared my emperor wouldn’t be letting me go for at least the rest of the day…chores could always be done later…tomorrow perhaps…or maybe the day after…I might not be able to walk tomorrow.