#Ikemen Vampire Napoleon
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kissmetwicekissmedeadly · 19 hours ago
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whatever-fanfics · 1 year ago
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POV: you need help with your 21st century homework in a mansion full of vampires
~~~
Imagine MC needing sitting on the table, head in their hands, about to cry because NOTHING MAKES SENSE. And in come multiple people who look over MC's shoulder to what's making them so upset, they recognize some of it but not all of it. After pondering with each other they try asking some of the others. 10 minutes later 12 vampires surround the human trying to make sense of numerous subjects. Shakespeare was visiting.
~~~
Arthur & Theo *coming in from a night of drinking*: MC? Hondje? what's wrong
MC *on the verge of tears*: Nothing makes sense🥺😭
Arthur and Theo *walk over and see numerous papers from different subjects*: What is this?
MC: homework from the 21st century 🥺
Arthur *sits down and recognizes some of the works*: Interesting...
Theo *looks over and sees art history papers and papers about painting techniques*: ?!?
Isaac *enters and sees them*: ???
Isaac *walks over and sees calculus and math*: ?!?
Isaac *sits down and recognizes some equations*: I recognize some but not all of them, hold on
Isaac *leaves and comes back with Leonardo*: I brought help
Leonardo *looks over and recognizes problems*: You study this cara?
MC: not by choice 🥲
Napoleon *sleepily wanders over*: ???
Napoleon *sees typed words in French*: Nunuche how did you get your writing so neat?
MC: that's typed, it's my homework
Napoleon *confused, recognizes some but not all*: it's French homework?
MC: Yea... 🥲
Napoleon: hold on
Napoleon *leaves and comes back with le comte*: here
Le Comte *happy to be included*: 😁 homework?
MC: unfortunately 😓
Le comte *sits down*: I see the language has evolved again, this makes things a bit tricky, no matter *starts a whole lecture*
MC *look at the camera like their in The Office*: ...
*Mozart and Jean enter*
Mozart: why are you all so noisy
Mozart *comes over and notices music sheets*: what is this?
MC: homework
Mozart and Jean: Home..work???
Sebastian *appearing out of the void*: school work that you take home and return the next day completed
Literally everyone: where did you come from?
Jean *comes over and sees typed paper*: what is..this?
MC: typed up homework
Jean:...Witchcraft *takes out his sword*
MC: PLEASE NO, I DON'T HAVE ANYMORE COPIES 😭😭😭
*Dazai enters*
Dazai *sees everyone by MC and walks over*:
Dazai *sees his book*: what's this? Everyone: Homework
*Shakespeare enters*
Shakespeare: Good morrow, all 😊
Shakespeare *walks over and sees multiple works of his*: ???
Shakespeare: Good MC, I had no notion of your interest in me ☺️
MC and Theo: It's homework
Theo *puts down art history papers*: be right back
*Theo leaves and comes back with Vincent*
Vincent: MC I didn't know you were so interested in art ☺️😊
MC *didn't want to tell him it was for homework*: yeah...
*Sebastian taking notes furiously in his journal*
~~~
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xxsycamore · 7 months ago
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KING'S GAME
╰┈➤ ❝ I just need to know in case…❞ ❝ In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips? ❞ - After a round of some silly drinking game, MC can't help but have certain thoughts about Napoleon and how easily he takes on the role of someone in power. Naturally, she wants to know his boundaries of it.
Napoleon Bonaparte/MC • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Drinking Games; Alcohol; Shenanigans; Humor; Sexual Tension; Massage; Kink Negotiation; Sexual Roleplay; Power Play; Dominant Napoleon; Dom/sub; Master/Servant; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Choking; Dacryphilia; Stripping; Dirty Talk; Vaginal Fingering; Begging; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Aftercare • wordcount: 6,055 • masterlist
a/n: The idea for this fic was conceived long before an event of the same theme came to Ikevamp EN... We ended up not seeing them all play together in the game so I hope this right here fixes that, maybe? I have no idea how it ended up being that long. I guess I've been looking for the right opportunity to explore this part of Napoleon's character in a smut fic, namely his feelings about being called emperor and the likes in the bedroom. Hope you enjoy!
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"Oh, I know! How about we play the Ousama game? It's a popular drinking game back home, in my era!"
It's rare for MC to be the one initiating activities on game nights, so naturally, all eyes are on her. Dazai is quick to give his enthusiastic approval, wanting to know more about a game that came after his time but originates from his homeplace. Sebastian smiles in a similar fashion.
"Good pick, MC. I think our residents are going to like it. Will you please excuse me for a second?"
As Sebastian stands up from the table and dashes out of the room, someone's comment oh my god, he's totally fetching his diary, can be heard. But really, there are no hard feelings. Everyone's more than happy to welcome Sebastian at the table and see him being more open and relaxed around his masters for once. Maybe it does have to be documented.
"It's not something like Arthur's games, I assume?" Isaac directs his gaze at MC, almost pleading under the surface for an affirmative response.
She rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck. As much as she hates to disappoint him…
"Erm, it's basically a game of dares… but don't worry, you can always refuse a dare!"
"That's it, if you want to take the punishment, Newt." Arthur seems ready to dance on the physicist's nerves with a complimenting chin-cupping stance, elbows rested on the table and all. Theo rolls his eyes.
"Let me guess. Refuse a dare and drink a shot."
"That's correct." MC nods before Arthur can take more liberties at orchestrating her own game, even if they happen to be thinking in the same direction. "Let me go get what we need for the game!"
By the time Sebastian is back and patting his breast pocket suspiciously, so is MC, with a handful of… chopsticks. And a fountain pen.
"So, what I'm going to do now is write a number for each one of us… Vincent, Theo, Arthur, Isaac, Mozart, Dazai, Sebastian, Napoleon, and I…so that means numbers 1 to 8, and on the ninth chopstick, I'm going to write Ousama - which means 'King' - and then we shuffle the chopsticks in a cup - Arthur, can you pass me the empty cup next to you? - then we each take one but without showing our numbers to the others. Whoever gets the Ousama chopstick becomes King and he places a dare for someone, using the numbers! Is everything clear?"
"Uh. What kind of dares are allowed?"
Napoleon nods at the direction the question originates from. "Good point. Hey, maybe tone it down with the sexual stuff. There are taken people at the table."
Arthur snaps, "Why are you looking at me? I wasn't intending to. Besides, if a dare doesn't stand right with you, you can always drink and avoid it!"
Memories of other game nights seem to flood multiple minds at once, so MC lets out a half-chuckle half-sigh and moves on. She does take a mental note of the hint of possessiveness in Napoleon's comment just now who instantly got worried about another man being prompted to touch her inappropriately. As if anyone has the balls to touch Napoleon's woman, she thinks to herself… and kind of likes the way it sounds in her head.
It's a shame that Leonardo and Comte aren't joining them tonight and are instead enjoying a more sane way of getting alcohol in their system, in some quiet corner of the mansion. And Comte is totally not smoking a cigarillo right now while talking to his old friend, claiming that he hasn't had one in forever, again. And for that matter, Jean's presence is missed as well, but sadly (although understandably) he dislikes partaking in such activities. He's a lot like Mozart in this regard, with the difference that Mozart becomes another person when he drinks some. And that person loves joining drinking games with his buddies!
"If we're all ready - here we go!"
MC gives the cup a rather unnecessary bartender-style shake, assuring the chopsticks are well shuffled and ready to make it to all the wrong hands.
Once placed on the table, a crowd of hands quickly reach into the cup and sneakily withdraw in order to hide their new secret identity, with the exception of one person who has nothing to hide.
"I'm the king. My, I wasn't prepared for this."
As Sebastian holds up the chopstick of fate high in the air for all to see, a few pairs of surprised eyes catch his own. And something like a shimmer lights up in Sebastian's ones.
For someone as unprepared as him, he surely doesn't waste time on thinking about his next move. Not at all.
"Number 6, exchange a clothing item with number 1. Number 3, take off your pants without using your hands. And number 4 must do a handstand."
"By Jove, Sebas, your fetishes are showing!" Arthur blinks, both surprised and somehow entertained by the turn of events which (in his own head) kicks him off the position of number one most perverted person around the table. Or at least for the time being. He's only smiling now because he's safe, being the lucky number 7 and out of Sebastian's fantasies.
Isaac and Theo can't say the same. They exchange a look - eyes traveling up and down each other's frames - looking for a convenient clothing item to exchange, given their different builds. Theo is done with his choice first, and he reaches over the table to undo Isaac's necktie. The smaller man averts his gaze, turning his head away as much as he can so it's not in Theo's way, or perhaps out of embarrassment, but it's over before it ever began thanks to Theo's rough but effective methods of freeing the cloth from under his collar. Using the chance coming with the shortened distance, Isaac snatches Theo's scarf in return as the most adequate thing to take.
"Aw, you two are boring." Napoleon mocks for change, drumming his fingers on the table with a smirk. Theo muses with the thin black tie in his hands, turning to Napoleon with an empty look and silently wrapping it around his forehead instead, tying it off at the side.
"Is this better?"
"Snrk. I don't know, what do we think, Sebas?"
"I approve of your new look, Master Theodorus. Or should I drop the 'Master'? I'm the King now, after all."
MC gasps, "Sebas! Oh, this game is dangerous…"
"Tell me about it. My first dare and I already have to drink. Woe is me." Dazai weeps, rising up from his seat to point at his hakama, making it impossible for him to complete the take off your pants without hands dare.
"Guess that leaves me." Napoleon sighs, pushing his chair back audibly as he stands up.
"Ooh! Go for it, Naps!"
"Good thing it went to someone who's in good shape. I bet it's a piece of cake for him."
"We'll see now." Napoleon smirks to himself, rubbing his hands together as he prepares to tackle the handstand. His eyes get serious for a second as he calculates it all, and in the next moment, his hands are flat against the floor changing the center of his weight. While he's upside down, the gravity makes his partly untucked shirt expose his abs.
Someone whistles, and MC finds herself staring. As if for the first time.
All too soon, Napoleon is back on his feet again, dusting off his palms and retaking his seat by the table. Sebastian is beaming. "I like this game. Thank you for the idea, MC."
"Thank you, MC." Mozart chimes in, for some reason, oblivious to Sebastian making history tonight as opposed to quietly observing it from the side like usual.
"Haha, you guys are welcome… so, let's do it again, shall we? Let's see who will be King this time around~!"
After the new shuffle of chopsticks, everyone seems a little more lively, a little more hopeful - some driven by revenge and some simply by the contagious evil brewing in the air.
"Who is King?"
Out of the people looking at their newly acquired chopsticks, Napoleon is the one who speaks up.
"I guess that would be me."
"It's Napoleon, huh…"
"Oh, how fitting! You were born for it, Naps."
"Haha, not really."
"My bad. You're an emperor, not a king. I'm so sorry, Your Majesty."
Napoleon snorts, not playing along - or perhaps his dismissing the extended apology is his way of playing along. MC raises an eyebrow, studying his reaction. Napoleon's attitude towards these things is… rather complicated, as he seems to both loathe his so-called days of glory and simultaneously accept them for what they are, a part of him. She's been confused more than once about what's a good way of navigating through the situation when the topic is brought up in their conversations. On one hand, she hates the change of expression on his face that makes her feel like winter has returned - even if it's never going to feel to her like how it felt to him, the cruel winter - on the other, she knows he hates it when people walk on eggshells around him.
But now they're all at least half-drunk and merely goofing around. No one's bothered to care about these things, and maybe Napoleon prefers they don't anyway.
"Number 5, hold three ice cubes in your mouth until they melt. Number 4, confess about a fetish you have in front of everyone. Number 2, crack an egg over Number 7's head. Number 1, give me a massage."
"N-Napoleon is a sadist!!"
"So cruel…"
And he's laughing too. Sadistic tendencies aside, his laughter sounds every bit as genuine (and loud) as MC always remembers it to be, and it's strangely soothing. Maybe she should refuse a dare just for the shot, just to drown her worries a little more… Taking a look at her chopstick again because she thinks she heard her number, she sees a 1.
Theo goes somewhere, for ice presumably, despite Sebastian's offer to do it in his stead, and Arthur follows. "Wait, I'll go for the eggs."
"Who got the fetish one?" Napoleon browses the faces of the ones left at the table to spot the flushed one. Vincent raises a hand.
"My fetish is, um… I don't really-"
"Come on Vincent-kun, we all have fetishes~"
"I think I could say… maybe… um.."
"Yes? Go on, say it. We won't judge."
"I'd love it if my partner would touch themselves and let me watch."
"That's perfectly normal, Master Vincent. Nothing to be ashamed of."
"Woah, it's both very vanilla and somehow kinky at the same time..." MC muses out loud. "Oh, but nothing to be ashamed of, certainly!"
Arthur and Theo return, with the latter immediately taking note of Vincent's beet-red face.
"What did I miss? Broer?"
"The fetish dare… Don't worry, Theo, I just had a shot instead."
"Oh, that's good. I mean, no it's not! Napoleon, how dare you make mjin broer take a punishment!"
"It wasn't really- Anyway, Theo, let's shut you up now."
Theo groans, dragging on every move as if giving the ice a chance to melt as much as possible before the inevitable contact with his mouth. At last, there's nowhere to escape and he pops the cubes in his mouth, thankfully they fit.
"Okay, I've been waiting for this. Who gets an egg in the head?"
"It's me… I hate this game…"
Isaac cards his fingers through his strawberry locks, as if for one last time while they're still egg-free. In the meantime, Theo's expression twists, less out of sympathy and more because the ice begins to torture him from the inside out.
"And the executioner?"
"Master Isaac, I'm truly sorry, it's me." Sebastian raises his gloved hand.
"Ahahaha! Haha!" Mozart laughs at the turn of events seeing a servant disserving his master. Or maybe the reason behind his laughter is nowhere that complex. One thing is certain, for some reason, he always gets out of the bunch's drinking games taking no damage in the form of nasty dares and punishments.
Sebastian stands up reluctantly, then sits down again. "Should I just drink? But I have to remind, I can't hold my liquor very well, I'm afraid."
"Just get it over with. I won't be mad at you or anything."
Sebastian sighs to show a little more reluctance before committing the deed. He looks like he's trying to miss his target, but unfortunately the raw egg still perfectly lands on Isaac's head, quickly descending down his face. Isaac's grossed-out expression mirrors Theo's current agony. As someone hands Isaac a handkerchief to wipe off the sticky mess with, another jokingly calls the sight erotic…
"Alright, I'm ready for my massage. Who shall serve the King?"
Napoleon relaxes back in his seat demonstratively in anticipation. It's a bold invitation, and everyone looks up to see the chosen one.
"My king."
MC stands up, showing her chopstick marked with the number 1. She tries to mute the sound of the others' reactions in her head as suddenly her pulse speeds up.
Napoleon flashes her a grin.
"Very well. The King is expecting you."
He lifts his glass to his lips as he hasn't touched it since the beginning of the game, probably deeming it worthless with the nature of the game. Not that he's expecting to be drinking anytime soon - he's simply not the type to back out from any dare unless it's too ridiculous even for him. Maybe that's why he started to miss the warmth at the back of his throat.
As MC makes her way to where he sits, she witnesses the singular bobbing of his Adam's apple when he gulps down the liquid, and she watches dumbstruck for a second as he motions for her to take a sip if she wants to, from the same glass. Well, yes, she finished her own drink a while ago. She accepts the glass from his hold.
"Now, what kind of massage should I request? Hmm…"
Arthur's dirty remarks fall on deaf ears as MC focuses on not choking on the liquid in her mouth.
Napoleon is a giver.
But there's something damn attractive when he allows himself to take from others.
"The king orders you to rub his shoulders."
And it's damn attractive when he's commanding like that. She sees now what the others were referring to in their provocations earlier - it rolls so, so easily off his tongue when he gives an order like this. Even if it's for a stupid game, the sharp look he gives her feels rather… real.
Not that this is anything new to her. For all Napoleon's gentleness, in the bedroom, he has this side of him that colors him rather dominant. And she'd be lying if she said she's gotten so used to it by now she doesn't feel anything between her legs right this moment. Instead of being a liar, she blames it on the alcohol.
Standing behind Napoleon, MC puts her hands on his broad shoulders… and really, it's been a while since she last gave him a massage. Usually, it's the other way around, as Napoleon added it to his ever-growing list of skills, even if initially it was something he'd never done before, given his status in his past life. Now she has his shoulders all to herself to knead and push at, and she catches herself putting selfishness in the act of service. Because she can't help but have impure thoughts.
Napoleon groans. It's quiet but she catches it over the cacophony of other noises in the room coming from the rowdy bunch. They're already setting things up for the next round, and here she's still stuck on her dare. She doesn't want to go back to her seat. Maybe Napoleon can read her thoughts like he always does and offer her his lap for the rest of the night; maybe he will go further and excuse the two of them for the night-
One hand at work, she reaches the other into the cup because they tell her to, and it appears to be Isaac's turn to be King. Good for him, but bad for everyone else. Seems like it's going to be a long night…
Later in the night and a few more rounds down the line, apples have been eaten without hands, glasses have been downed, a few mounts were the targets of unpleasant substances, either deadly spicy or deadly sweet, some clothes have been removed, some eyes filled with tears - and the collective level of soberness in the room has been drastically lowered.
It's a surprise how they even managed to put an end to it before the sun came out when naturally there's always someone who didn't get a chance to take revenge on someone else. Napoleon and Theo, being the best at holding their liquor as per usual, felt it their duty to help the others to their rooms.
MC didn't have much to drink, otherwise she'd be asleep on the pile of residents by now. Not that she intended to retain some of her soberness, it simply happened - because the bubbling feeling in her chest wasn't caused by alcohol, to begin with.
Napoleon, always the caretaker. Maybe if she throws herself at him he'll carry her to her room as well.
"Goodnight, Theo, go get some sleep." The sound of him returning after separating from Theo interrupts her daydreams.
Once he sees he's all alone with MC, he offers her a smile.
"And we're the last ones again. C'mon Nunuche, let's go to our room."
"Carry me?"
MC tries her best puppy-dog eyes at him, and he tests her for a second like it doesn't work on him. He then gawks at her laziness, hoisting her up his shoulder and giving her ass a little spank. "Let's get you to bed, naughty Nunuche. Some of those guys will be mad at you for weeks, you know? But you better not give them those eyes. Only I get to see them."
"Mm…Napoleon?"
The varnished floorboards creak under Napoleon's steps as he makes his way down the hall, holding MC's weight securely. "Yes?"
"Do you really enjoy it? You know, being treated like a majesty."
It's a short trip, and MC's perspective soon goes back to normal as the floor and the walls swap their places once more before her eyes. Not that she's interested in it, so she throws herself at the bed in the next second, sinking in the welcoming embrace of the comforter, not bothering with removing it at least for the time being.
"Pfft, where did that come from?" Napoleon says while closing the door behind him. The crickets are still singing their songs under their window, it can't be that late in the night.
"From the game. For a second I was worried it left a bad taste in your mouth."
"Hmm." Napoleon fake-muses, kicking off his shoes before sinking one knee on the bed. "I think I liked it when you were the one treating me like a majesty."
"No, don't joke, tell me seriously."
"I am serious though."
Somehow they end up in this position that doesn't help resolve the tension poisoning the air around them one bit; with him caging her with his body on the soft mattress and her having nowhere else to look at but right at his penetrating gaze. Her fingers twitch, nails catching into the fabric of the comforter, seeking a sense of stability.
"I just need to know in case…"
"In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips?"
Like a spark to the kerosene pooling low in her belly, Napoleon's words make beautiful explosions bloom behind her eyelids that have fallen shut amidst the last sentence. She takes a breath but it only feeds the fire as she can't help the way her exhale sounds raspy.
"Would you like that?"
"Would you?"
MC bites on her bottom lip. "This is not about me."
"I thought you wanted to serve your King."
She averts her gaze, because if she looks a little longer at this alluring jade gaze that reeks of sex, she'll be able to feel herself losing her composure, and she's trying to have a serious conversation here.
"I do."
"Hmm." Napoleon plays with her, trailing a hand down her modest home dress, prodding at the buttons at the front. "This is bad, I don't know what to ask for first. I've lost shape."
"Liar. You were perfect at it earlier."
"Someone's been paying attention. Were you also fucking me with your eyes? Right there, at the table?"
MC takes two sharp breaths, and it resembles panting, all too soon. It's out of irritation and not arouse, not yet. When she pictured their little game, she thought she'd just have to bow her head obediently and indulge in her desire to serve. Not enduring Napoleon's verbal teasing as any other night.
"Is it that bad? Will my King punish me now as he sees fit?"
Napoleon looks at her. For all the things that may be at the tip of his tongue, MC imagines most vividly the tone Napoleon would speak them in and how much he's cut for the role. Her soul sings at the thought, but it's nothing holy.
"Get up then. Don't you think it's a little rude to be lying down in my presence?"
That's fair. With renewed vigor, she pushes herself off the bed and waits readily by the side of it.
"Remember to not look me in the eyes. It's forbidden. You'll only look when I allow you to, if I allow you to. You'll have to earn my grace."
Instinctively, MC wants her nod to be accompanied by eye contact, but she corrects her mistake before it can even take place.
"Present yourself. Take it all off."
MC blinks surprisedly at how fast things are happening but isn't against it at all. She has the feeling that he is capable of making her do all sorts of dirty things with a mere flick of his tongue, undressing for him is nothing.
She makes a show of it, despite not having many articles of clothing on her to take off seductively - before long, she's stepping out of her dress that has pooled at her feet, and she retakes her previous position.
"I'm pleased with what I'm seeing. Come closer. Kiss me."
He doesn't have to ask twice. It's something familiar and yearned for since they crossed the threshold of their room—hell, no, since they took a seat at the table for that game. It's welcoming and fulfilling and it's just what she needed-
Or so she thought, until she terribly embarrassed herself with a rather awkward and rigid pressing of lips against lips, and no movement. In her selfishness, and out of habit, she left her mouth open for Napoleon's invasion. But she's forgetting to consider that kings get tired of their conquests too.
She summons her boldness and turns the desire in her veins into fuel for action. She shoves her tongue in Napoleon's mouth, but gently, not with the intention to dominate, but rather to serve. To kiss him until he gets enough. Her tongue swirls against his own, the movement rather clumsy, the making out of a juvenile rather than that of a skillful lover… but it's what he wants. He wants to see her seduce him, use every millimeter of her body for his pleasure, and keep going until he has his fill.
A thin string of saliva connects their lips upon her withdrawal, and her eyes are shut tight. She has to keep them shut, otherwise she'll look right at him. Napoleon chuckles.
"You may open them."
She does, and the sight is not kind on her fragile composure. Locking eyes with Napoleon has never felt like this, like a privilege, and exploring this new feeling is exciting.
"You're not half bad with your mouth. Undress me and put it to use."
Heartbeat thumping in her ears, MC finds it impossible to conduct herself in that moment; to sturdy her hands into performing the task and to break her gaze from his piercing pools of jade. She starts with the shirt, more tugging at the buttons rather than precisely undoing them, before pushing it completely off his shoulders, and finally letting it fall to the floor. He's glorious with just his trousers on and that scrutinizing, almost cold gaze. She opens the fly enough to take his hardness out, and her stomach tightens instinctively.
She wets her lips and parts them, taking in the head of his cock, letting it rest on her tongue. Even when her world narrows down to the hot pulsing flesh in her mouth, she catches herself dividing her focus between pleasuring her lover and.. the position she's doing this in. There's a little bit of getting used to it being required, and it makes her realize how unfamiliar that is - her being on her knees, on the hardwood floor, and Napoleon standing upright. When was the last time they've found themselves in that exact arrangement? It could've happened once or twice before, in the heat of the moment, or when the space had limited them. But never intentionally. Not because MC has anything against it - rather, it would be Napoleon who changes the position whether he's about to receive oral. He makes sure he's at least sitting down at the edge of the bed, where MC can rest her hands on his hips, or on the bed. Where he can see her better, to check up on her. Now she has to look up to see him, and he seems so far away, or maybe her eyes are doing tricks on her, or maybe her vision is blurring because she accidentally took his cock too deep down her throat and now tears are gathering in the corners of her eyes.
Napoleon brings his hand over her head and collects a fistful of her hair, one unfamiliar thing after another - but before intimidation can mix into her blood, she breathes in deeply, because it's not him forcing her down his cock, it's him forcing her off it.
He holds his cock firmly by the base as he directs it at her parted lips again, but doesn't breach the gap between them. He simply rubs his cockhead on the soft cushion of them, gathering the saliva that starts to droll down and smearing it back on her lips.
"A pretty mouth indeed."
MC can only look at him. She looks at him like she's looking straight at an open flame.
"Next," Napoleon begins, cupping her chin and caressing with his thumb where his cock used to be just a second ago. "I want you to go on the bed and show me the position you want to be taken in. Can you do that for your King?"
MC finally averts her gaze; it happens involuntarily, purely as a reaction to another surge of surprise and embarrassment.
"I— Yes, my King."
Napoleon angles her chin up, a signal for her to rise to her feet. Yes, that would be a good start.
The bed is just two steps away from where she is but MC feels like she can trip thrice on the way there with how much her legs have turned to jelly. Still, she makes it. There's not much room for thinking this through, for deciding on what would work out best for both of them - normally it's him who takes these decisions, anyway - so once she leans forward on the bed, she gives way to impulsivity and the way it saves her from having to give it any more thought. If she has to name the reason, it would be that it aligns with everything that Napoleon is tonight. Of course it would be fitting if he were to take her on her hands and knees.
"Does this… please you?"
She hears the rustling of clothes behind her back, probably the sound of Napoleon getting rid of his trousers, before he approaches her. He doesn't say anything about approving the position or not, and MC can't decide if his silence is worse. He comes to stand right behind her, and she crawls a little closer to the edge of the bed to make sure their skin is touching. Napoleon lets one hand roam from the fold of her knee up to the curve of her butt, and MC jumps lightly at the touch. Needless to say, she's sensitive and oh-so neglected. Her insides throb at the mere proximity of Napoleon's slender fingers close to her sex - it's a miracle she doesn't come undone on the spot as he actually directs his touch to the apex of her thighs. Wetness catches on his fingertips and he wastes little time caressing her folds before plunging two fingers inside.
"Nnghhh…" MC tosses her head, trying her best to enjoy the feeling of finally, finally claiming some pleasure but without losing herself completely in it. Napoleon twists his fingers until his open palm is facing upwards, thrusts in and out a few times in a way that doesn't intend to bring pleasure but rather to prepare - and then his fingers audibly and briskly exit her wetness.
MC whines at the loss of his fingers but finds a new fire sparkled to life inside her, and she's more than happy she wouldn't have to wait any longer for the next dose of intoxicating pleasure.
"Good girl. Do you want my cock?" Napoleon asks, openly and greedy. He's not risking having her beat around the bush by posing a more generic question like what she wants next. They both know the answer to that already.
Not that he spares her the torturous reminder of what she'll get by saying the right thing. He rubs his flushed tip on her glistening folds, pressing it in enough to just barely catch on her entrance; to make her bite her tongue and assume he just might show mercy and put it in without her pleading for it.
"I- Yes, please, Napoleon— take me, fuck me! Please…"
She only realizes once it slips out that she used his name and not the object of their little game of pretend that is his title, but there's no going back.
Napoleon doesn't punish her for it. Instead, he rewards her, giving her what she wants most. The groan he lets out as the familiar warmth and tightness enfolds his aching cock is telling of his own desperation.
MC cries out at the intrusion, only now understanding the difference of not having him finger her for longer prior to this. It doesn't hurt - she just feels a little fuller somehow. A little on edge. He gives her time to adjust, however, and she just basks into this dangerous feeling for as long as it's there until he carefully withdraws only to give it another thrust.
"Ahh!" Her insides squeeze around Napoleon again, as he goes in deeper this time. She blames the position, trying to reason out why she feels him in her guts. Napoleon withdraws again, and then pushes in, trying to fit even more of himself inside.
"You're taking me so well. I'm so deep inside you, I bet you can feel me in your deepest parts."
She groans at his words and their truthfulness as his thrusts grow rhythmic, the place where they're connected burning with the delightful friction, and her arms soon give out. She buries her head between her hands, enduring the change of angle as her rear sticks out, and Napoleon keeps pounding at her. His own sounds of pleasure are barely masked by the sounds of skin on skin, but he's not hiding them either. He lets her know how good she's making him feel, telling her something dirty in a low voice that she can barely register over the drumming in her ears.
"You feel so good- merde- Ngh. I want to stay inside you forever."
He's always holding her tightly when he fucks her, his grip being strong enough to leave marks the following day, but there's something about the way he takes hold of her hips now. At first, MC thinks nothing of it, lost in euphoric pleasure. It's only when she feels her knees being lifted off the bed that she understands what's happening.
Napoleon rises up her bottom to meet his hips, in his standing upright position, taking full control of her body in that moment. He's so strong, making it all seem effortless; and it's not a matter of matching his thrusts anymore - she can't do anything. She's facing away, with one pair of limbs immobilized and the other grasping uselessly for purchase at the covers. Her whole body rocks back and forth, feeling like a ragdoll in Napoleon's arms. There's something primal and simultaneously embarrassing about how good it feels to give herself over to him like that; about the trust she puts in him to have her completely at his mercy.
And then Napoleon stills inside her. And he groans. And before she knows it, a warm spray of come hits her walls. Her eyes widen, only now realizing they've already been going at it for a while, for a while enough that he seemingly couldn't hold back and—
And maybe he just didn't feel like waiting for her to come before he does.
The realization makes her dizzy in an unexplainable way, and she moans so loudly she feels herself pathetically falling into that bottomless fit, just like that, just as Napoleon takes his cock out of her. It's petrifying, coming without him inside her, but strangely the pleasure never ceases. His hand finds his way between her quivering thighs and shoves them apart in a quick manner, beginning to rub at her clit; whispering praises against the skin of her nape, enveloping her smaller body with his own from behind as she presses into the bed so violently, chasing after her peak.
"Come for me. Come for me and scream my name."
And that's enough to tip her over the edge. Coming with Napoleon's load inside her intensifies the feeling; the way her insides are still remembering his shape, the way she's so full yet so empty. It makes her see stars.
"Napoleon— Ahhhhh!!"
"I'm here. I'm here, mon amour."
Napoleon holds her trembling form as he draws out the last of her high, gently moving her into a spooning position. He keeps touching her everywhere, her belly, her breasts, the curve of her shoulder, caressing all the spots that went unloved in their game.
"I felt— so good I thought I might die—"
Napoleon huffs out a breathy chuckle, and it tickles the babyhairs at the base of her neck.
"I'd be lying if I said this doesn't stroke my ego, Nunuche.", he whispers, and it's somehow more shiver-inducing than anything he's said that night. "I think you might be right. I might be enjoying myself a bit too much when I'm calling the shots."
MC turns her neck just enough to look at him from the corner of her eye. She studies him again, with his disheveled hair and boyish smile and his low tolerance of putting up a front now that he gave voice to his most basic instinct and let it rob him of the ability to give anything more thought than he needs to. She leans in for a kiss and he takes the initiative enthusiastically but ends up drawing it out to make the remaining endorphins dance slowly between their bodies.
Letting the tiredness in her limbs settle in just like the fact that the room is several shades a brighter blue than how they entered it, MC only nuzzles back onto Napoleon's chest, trying not to give voice to the heat between her legs beginning to awake again without a sense of the time.
"And I might just love to see you like that. Mon empereur."
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chevlvrs · 9 months ago
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Gave napoleon ptsd 😭
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chirp-a-chirp · 8 months ago
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Napoleon: Everyone keeps flirting with you.
MC: You’re exaggerating!
Napoleon: In front of me.
MC: T-that can’t be!
Vlad: Here are flowers. Free of course.
Le Comte: Let me dress you, Ma Cherie.
Arthur: Wanna makeout luv?
Napoleon: NO.
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thedivinetarot-2 · 4 months ago
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Every route in Ikemen vampire be like:
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Every time...
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weird-profiterole · 7 months ago
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Not sure Ney will follow them though...
(From left to right : Napoleon Bonaparte, Michel Ney, Jean Lannes, Joachim Murat)
Don't repost, only reblog
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klutzyroses · 1 month ago
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Hold Me Tight Series💖- Napoleon
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Fandom: Ikemen Vampire
Pairing: Napoleon x Reader
Word Count: 1152
Summary: She seemed so lonely, all the time. He wondered why. More importantly, what can he do for his nunuche?
Tags: Female reader, fluff, hugs, emotional reader
Story #1 of the Hold Me Tight series. Enjoy, Napo girlies!
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She looked so lonely. That was the main thought on his mind when he saw her. Napoleon’s jade eyes watched, narrowed at her figure leaning against the wall, her head turned away and gazing out the window. Sebas had told him she had seemed really down the majority of the day and he had initially thought that meant he would come across a cute, pouty woman. Nothing serious. Not this. Not this…desolate, absent maiden. 
She was right there, within arm’s reach of him, yet she was worlds away, in some distant land that her mind had taken her to. Wherever that was, it seemed to him to be an isolated place with nobody else but herself for miles, if her expression was anything to go by. Somewhere so far away she hadn’t even noticed he had entered the room. He felt the urge rush through him to take her from there, from that place in her mind that was causing such a look of melancholy on her face. His eyes followed the movement of her hands, absent in the repetitive motion as her fingers locked and unlocked themselves for a few moments, as though she didn’t know what to do with her hands. He wasn’t sure why he focused so much on it at that moment. Something, an instinct he supposed, told him to pay attention to that particular detail. Maybe it was because, apart from the anxious movement of her hands, she was very much still. Suddenly, she settled for clenching those lovely hands, grasping at her dress with an iron grip and kept them that way, her lip sinking between her teeth as she bit down. Her shoulders suddenly sagged, in fact, her whole body seemed to give under the weight of her burdens, causing her to put her full weight against the wall, her shoulder meeting it with a light thump. He was about to call for her attention but the words caught in his throat when he noticed her start to slide down the wall. It was as if she herself had become too heavy to hold up, her face was a picture of exhaustion as her eyes closed, resigned to the idea of being a pile of nothing on the floor. His body moved on its own and she never fully sunk to the ground before he acted as a cushion. 
“Nunuche…” Her eyes sprung open and moved to him, seeing him for the first time when she heard the nickname and felt the grip he had on her arms. Her lips parted in surprise as she took him in, the frown on his face, annoyance or concern she wasn’t sure. Knowing the former emperor, it was likely the latter. Her lips trembled, intent on reassuring him that she was fine, but nothing came out so she just clamped them shut and looked away, opting for silence. He observed her for a moment before tugging her closer to him until she was enveloped in his arms. They remained on the floor as he held her there for a moment of silence, no words exchanged between them.
“I…I’m okay.” She eventually spoke softly, uncertain. She seemed like she was questioning herself rather than reassuring him of her wellbeing. He didn’t believe it for a moment, not when she sounded so vulnerable, her voice evoking the feeling of sorrowful solitude, the emptiness that came with being lonely. It didn’t sit right with him that she was left to feel that way. He knew, quite well in fact, that loneliness wasn’t always a state of being, it was a state of mind. He understood that feeling, that even when surrounded by people, a person could still find themselves alone in all but the physical sense.
He never wanted her to feel that though, no. Not her. Never her. He wanted to banish the thought- the thought that she was ever alone- from her mind. 
“Ah…” The woman let a small gasp escape her when she was pulled further into the embrace of the French hero, the warmth enveloped her like the summer’s sun. No, rather, it was like she was tucked into bed, curled beneath a warm blanket that effortlessly shielded her from the bitter cold. She looked back at him, her eyes, formerly hollow and distant, now were slightly wide with curiosity.
“Na…poleon?” Her tone was still soft, but now tinged with an actual question, a question he already understood. He waited a moment, brushing the hair out of her face as he pondered his response for a few seconds before meeting her gaze head on, almost startling her with the intensity of his own.
“You think I’d just stand by when you look so lost like that, nunuche?” His murmur, level and steady, the antithesis of her own shaky uncertainty, struck through her, she could only describe the feeling as…stable. Like she had been wavering and he held her still, not allowing her to float off into the void. She didn't have a reply to that, so he continued.
“Whatever's wrong, we can handle it later, but right now, my priority is you. Let me be your strength.” His loving, yet bold words strike a chord in her as though shaking her awake through the fog she was in.
We can handle it.
Let me be your strength.
How could she refuse that? When he spoke so comfortingly, so confident that he could, that he would be her strength, that he would support her at her lowest. How could she doubt him when he looked into her eyes with that much certainty. She soon began to feel that irritating, infuriating lump in her throat, blocking her voice from coming out. Napoleon’s face became blurry and unfocused in her vision. She swallowed hard, as though to clear the lump, the off-putting sign of the tears to come. A futile attempt really, the action only served to cause her more pain, so instead she turned around within his arms- his hold was not so tight as to prevent that- and buried her face in his shoulder, letting herself fall into him. 
He seemed ready for it, in fact, he welcomed it, tightening his embrace as he wrapped his cape around her, as though hiding her from the world. He’d done it before once and he found that it seemed to comfort her when he did. She had said it made her feel safe, loved as she always should be, in his opinion. If he could, he would shield her from all the world with its trouble and hurt. But he knows he can’t, not always. For now though, he would keep watch over her and her heart, the heart she had so willingly given to him long ago. He would protect it, cherish it, for as long as it remained in his hands. After all…
It’s a soldier’s duty to protect his home, isn’t it?
🌸
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ikevamp-twitter · 1 year ago
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bontu-the-l0ver · 21 days ago
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I have a really bad sketch of Napoleon pregnant
Who wants to see it?
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kissmetwicekissmedeadly · 6 months ago
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whatever-fanfics · 1 year ago
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MC's dark humor doesn't always land
~~~
Mozart: You are a noisy burden
MC: Thanks, I'll just go kill myself then 🥴
MC: *peace sign's and turns to leave*
Mozart: 😧🤯😨
~~~
Nobunaga: Tonight you shall warm my bed
MC: Ew...
Nobunaga: 🫨
~~~
MC: *looking at Leonardo's room for the first time*
MC: It's like that hoarder room in halloween town 2, where all the trash just accumulates and no one can find anything
Leonardo:...wut?
~~~
*MC at a ball with Le Comte*
Random socialite: And how old are you, old enough to marry I presume 😉 😘
MC: Why would I do that to myself???
Random socialite: 😲
Random socialite: *looks at Le Comte* 👀
Le Comte: *sweating nervously*😅 😓
~~~
MC: *to Arthur* please be cool
Arthur: who's cooler than me 😏
MC: Literally everyone
~~~
Shingen: So how did you and Nobunaga meet?
MC: *without missing a beat* he kidnapped me 😐
Nobunaga: 🙄😒
Shingen: 😧🫢😠😡🤬
Hideyoshi: MC.....😰
MC: I have Stockholm syndrome
~~~
Jean: I no longer wish to live
MC: *not even blinking* Cool same
~~~
Motonari: I'll make sure the war never ends
MC: due to personal reasons you will now be named a menace to society
Motonari: heh..😏
~~~
Silvio: Fuck you!
MC: come here and fuck me yourself you coward!
Silvio: 😳😳😳
~~~
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xxsycamore · 2 months ago
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A commission of Napoleon and me by @amarara , birthday gift by the wonderful @scummy-writes . Words are not enough to express how much I'm inlove with this art. Thank you for this special gift from the bottom of my heart ❤️
Be sure to check out this talented artist. Do not repost!
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letters-from-ikemen · 4 months ago
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An Invitation Letter to My Hard-working Nunuche
Your presence always gives me that boost of energy to get by every day. So now that you are tired, it’s my turn to lift your spirits.
I’ve noticed you’ve been working a lot lately, and I think it’s inspiring to see all your dedication at work. However, my nunuche, I am concerned about your well-being. I don’t want to brag, but I think I know you well enough to the point I can suggest something that will make you relax. I want to see that smile that shines brighter than the sun. Am I being too selfish? Maybe, but you taught me that it was okay to be selfish sometimes.
So, today, I, Napoleon Bonaparte, will be your exclusive chef. Would you like that? Whatever you want to eat, you let me know. I’ll make sure to meet your expectations with each dish you desire. Appetizers, main course, side dishes, desserts, you name it. I’m confident enough that I can prepare dishes that will make you feel invigorated. And if you can feel even more in love with me after that gastronomic experience, then I’ll be the luckiest man alive.
There is nothing in this world that I like more than pleasing you. I hope you will give me the honor to spoil you today.
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a letter for anon! thank you for the request!
About this blog || Request Rules
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lorei-writes · 6 months ago
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...Jude's hair is almost like inverted Napoleon's hair, and I can't stop thinking about it.
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thedivinetarot-2 · 9 months ago
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Summertime with Ikevamp boys
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Genre: Fluff/fun/summer
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Characters: Comte's + Vlad's mansion
Warning: None
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It was Comte's idea to have an enjoyable summer because after all all his beloved residents need to take a break from their jobs.
Sebastian and MC would probably ask Isaac and Napoleon to help them get the stuff ready.
Leonardo was the one who bought the tickets and this time everyone is going to get on the train.
Jean and Mozart never liked the idea of being there but they joined after the whole mansion insisted on them to be there.
Arthur was so excited because he could flirt with women there.
Arthur teased MC/you because he heard that Comte gifted her/you a bikini and she blushed because of that.
Dazai was planning to take his beloved chicken there but he back down when sebastian told him not to.
Vincent was so happy about the idea and he took tons of color and books to draw upon them.
Shakespeare was invited too because he was Comte's first child and papa Comte can't go nowhere without his child.
Shakespeare would thank Comte for the invitation and ask if he can help the other suitors.
Vlad knew about the vacation from Shakespeare and decided to make it as a surprise.
Charles was excited for the vacation because he could spend time with the MC and Vincent.
Vincent was so sad that he had to leave his pet animal brush behind and he almost cried for leaving him.
Theo had to relax himself because the stress he put himself under could kill a man.
But can Arthur leave him alone?. No no no.
Faust felt stupid because of how much most of them are excited and he stayed at Vlad's mansion not wanting to be with them.
At the train station and instead of using the door Dazai entered via the window that he got stuck there and asked Arthur for help.
Isaac slammed his forehead after seeing how Dazai loves to embarrass himself.
But anyways, Theo and Arthur managed to pull him from inside the train.
Mozart and Jean would ask MC to set with them in the cabinet since they said it would be better for her than setting with the other stupid suitors.
But they ended up setting with each other including sebastian with them.
Comte and Leonardo was already with MC at the same cabinet.
Napoleon, Isaac, Vincent was together.
Theo, Arthur and Dazai in other cabinet.
While Vlad, Charles and Shakespeare was setting alone because they wanted to keep their presence as surprise for Comte.
Mozart would write music notes while sebastian would engage in teaching Jean how to read more fluently.
Leonardo was sleeping the whole time and when he woke up he teased theshitoutof MC.
Comte never set at the cabinet all the time he would go and indulge himself in conversations with the other suitors.
Vincent enjoyed sketching the suitors while his beloved Theo almost killed Arthur and Dazai because they teased him too much.
And when the train arrived at the destination; Dazai did stick himself again out of the window instead of using the door which resulted for Theo and Arthur to pull him again and he ended up falling from the window's height on Theo and Arthur.
The suitors almost forgot to wake Leonardo up since most of them were busy taking their stuff out.
MC really wanted to wear the bikini Comte gifted her but she was too shy since Arthur teased so much.
When Jean's heard that Comte gifted MC a bikini he almost attacked him calling him a "slut" and "disrespectful" but fortunately Napoleon was there to pull him away before committing a crime.
Isaac enjoyed making sand castle with MC on the beach even though he denied the fact.
Arthur and Dazai almost drowned Isaac in the sea by trying to teach him how to "swim".
Napoleon and Sebastian went to bring some drinks since Vlad's jokes were so dry.
Shakespeare and Vincent was enjoying the sight of the sea; one is writing poems and the other is painting.
Arthur after almost drowning Isaac went to flirt with a couple of women.
Dazai asked Toshiko-San if it is okay to teach her how to swim. But Leonardo ended up taking the charge of that.
Leonardo tried to teach MC how to swim but was interrupted by everyone because all of them tried to teach her at the same time poor MC/you.
Later that afternoon and when the sun started to set Comte prepared a barbecue party and all of the residents enjoyed the night.
Mozart was too bored because he left his dear piano at the mansion and he couldn't have a smaller instrument to play so he suggested someone to sing something.
Charles agreed but ended up being unprepared so Mozart stopped him from singing.
Arthur and Theo ended up singing while Isaac was looking how dumb they looked.
Vincent sing too and his voice was so comforting.
Vincent woke up early that day to draw the sunrise and he saw MC there alone wearing her gifted bikini and swimming by herself.
He had to sketch that too.
Sebastian couldn't rest for a moment since the baby residents can't stop fighting and nagging.
Vlad never stopped teasing Comte about how bad the residents are, and how chaotic they are.
The trip ended up well but Comte will never do it again since all of the residents at some point was annoying.
°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°
Post date: Apr/10th/2024
Day: Wednesday
☆ Side Note:
I really liked the idea of writing this for summer. Anyways this is an old draft I wrote last year but was too busy to post it. I hope you liked it. Stay safe 🙏🏼 ❤.
M
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