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slashingdisneypasta · 2 years ago

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Napoleon x Reader || Drabble

Plot: You’ve had a long, bad day and when the sun sets you just want some comforting from your partner Napoleon. ‘I need you to love me a little bit louder today.’ (Quote found on Pinterest)

Warnings: Exhaustion

Tags: @miss-understood

When you get to the museum for your nightguard shift, you genuinely find yourself wishing that this was a normal museum for once. Then at least you could sit back and sleep- but no, you have to make sure the exhibits don’t get themselves turned to dust, or go waltzing through DC for whatever reason. You never intended for this one to be a real job - just a way to get money. After all, you already have a first job and that’s what has already done your head in today, - but it’s another headache.

But, alas, even if you are 2 seconds from exploding, you do your job. You have to. It’s kind of life and death, for some. Here.

You lock up the creatures, set out a calculator for the Einstein’s, set up Kah and Al in front of the TV - what the two agree on to watch, you truly have no clue, and honestly, nor do you care tonight. As long as they’re not starting any riots for the next 9 hours, and not fighting, they can watch porn if they damn well please, -, turn on the Moon Landing video for the space sector and a million other little things like hotwiring that one motorbike that Custer likes to ride around on so it doesn’t work, thanking Amelia for helping you out with the Gallery, etc. Until you’re just strolling the halls on leaden legs, making sure you’ve done everything, and eventually-

Stopping.

You can’t go anymore.

“Ugh… “Even leaning against a wall is more effort than your legs are willing to make for you, bit your force yourself to stay up. You do allow yourself the mercy of closing your eyes, though; Putting yourself in your mind-bed. Feeling the covers, cool and forgiving, against your skin and pulling on your dream-pyjamas. Just a shirt and shots will do, you’re really not going to be picky right now. Just as long as they aren’t your confining guard uniform.

Next you turn your fantasy-TV on and flick over to the Discovery channel. Ohhh, how you would like that. Just to not use your brain- just watch animals in the savanna and listen to David Attenborough drone. God, that would be good.

Just as you’re starting to feel the tiniest bit better, crossing your arms and just resting your head against the wall, keeping yourself in that safe space in your head, you hear someone call your name and tug you right out of that chosen reality. Your eyes snap open, frustration lights up in your chest all over again, your last nerve for the day (And probably the next few, too) snapping. “Oh- My god- What!?”

Your blazing eyes land on Napoleon and Ivan- and immediately you feel guilty. The fire simmers still in your chest and your eyes still feel like they’re shooting bullets, but you feel terrible about it; Face falling as you push yourself - with much effort, - off the wall. “Oh guys I’m so sorry- I- “

Surprise flashes through your body as they look anything but mad. In fact, Ivan’s face is pulled into an expression of vague confusion- and concern, which is what shocks you. And, of course, Napoleon looks like he’s about to pop with worry. “Amour- l’ amoureux- Are you okay??”

“I- “

“They certainly don’t look okay… “Ivan speaks for you, which is just as well you suppose- you don’t know that you have the energy to explain. Napoleons eyes don’t leave your form, as you just sigh and cross your arms over your chest; Wincing as you lean back on the wall again.

“They look like they haven’t slept in 7 days and 7 nights, Ivan! They look like they’re dying! Y/N, my darling- “Napoleon, your lover, the only person you want with you right now but wouldn’t want to every bother with your nonsense, reaches forward and his hand just brushes your cheek but you immediately feel the touch pulling you back together. It takes everything in you not to close your eyes and sigh.

He's too good to you. He cares too much. And a lot of the time you wonder how you could possibly be a good suit to him; You swear you could never make him feel as good as he makes you feel.

But evidently that’s just what you need right now. Napoleon’s over-the-top love.

“You know that I would never want to say you look bad- never- truthfully, exhaustion suits you just as well as anything else amour- but are you quite alright?” he’s close to you now, and even though Ivan’s just a few feet away gazing now at a piece of art wobbling around at the far end of the hallway, it feels like it’s just you and Napoleon. “You can tell me. I will take care of everything.”

He looks like he could, and you can’t help but immediately trust him. “I’m just so tired.”

“That’s what I thought. Ivan-” Promptly, he turns to Ivan in that quick, comical way he does; Who turns slowly and raises those bushy brows of his. Yes? “You know what to do.”

Ivan nods, and turns to walk off, but he pauses. He turns to you, sets those deep, dark, heavy eyes onto you, and nods slowly- never breaking eye contact. His own way of saying he hopes you feel better soon, without words. You raise your hand daintily to waive, but Ivan doesn’t care about it and walks off. Well.

Turning back to Napoleon, your safe place, you feel vaguely confused. “What does he know to do- “

“Doesn’t matter. Come this way, amour, get off your feet. Would you like some tea? Coffee? We finally figured out how to use that ridiculous contraption in the kitchen, if you would like a poptart- I believe we have chocolate, strawberry… oh and an odd oreo flavour that I haven’t yet had the desire to test, but Al seems to enjoy it. But that imbecile will eat anything, so- “Napoleon ushers you to the nearest bench, and you actually moan when you sit down- which would be embarrassing, if you weren’t so exhausted. His jabbering sort of becomes background noise for a moment as you close your eyes, but quickly snap them open again when he goes to let you go and catch his arms. “- Mon ange?”

“I- I don’t need anything, thank you… Just you,” The tiniest smile slips across your lips as you look up at him (As he’s standing), a little pleading. You need him right now. Just, your boyfriend. Affection. Cuddles!- “Would you just sit with me, for now? Please?”

“Of course, mon coeur. Always. I am yours.” To your utter relief, Napoleon takes the seat beside you and you instantly stretch one arm through the crook of his and rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes again with a sigh. “Are you sure you do not want to talk about anything, though?”

“Yeah, I’m sure… I just… “Giving the weakest of shrugs, you hum. “Just maybe need you to love me a little louder tonight, baby… “Using all your strength, you lift your head from his shoulder in order to smile delicately up at him. “Think you can do that?”

He looks all-too happy to do so. Really, he looks at you so softly that you would know for sure that he loves you even if he didn’t tell you ever chance he gets. “I am all for you, amour~ “The man gives you a kiss on your forehead and you just about melt. Good god, this man- Truly a miracle worker. You already feel a million times better than before; You can feel all your stresses and frustrations burning to ash inside you.

As you rest your head back on his shoulder, eyes blissfully closed once again, not going to sleep but just soaking up the affection Napoleon is fully devoted to bestowing on you (One arm hugging your waist, fingers hugging your curves and rolls, while the other hand holds up yours and with a simple rub to your knuckles, proceeds to give each fingertip a gentle kiss- which really works. It doesn’t seem like it would, but, it feels like with every butterfly-gentle brush of his lips another bit of terrible exhaustion blinks out of existence and you’re revitalised) and the safety you feel just being alone with him, you faintly hear an announcement over the museum speakers laced in a heavy Russian accent.

“Okay, Prostolyudiny. I am your leader for the evening. Do not search for Y/N- they are no more on this night. Now listen to me, you are all to keep very quiet and keep to your allocated areas. And… “

Vaguely, you listen to Ivan’s monarchist dictations and feel concern that he’s taking over your job for the night, but when you lift your head once again to possibly take up that responsibility again- Napoleon presses a warm, suggestive kiss to your mouth; The kind that’s slow and perfect, not forceful and not leading to anything at all (Just kissing for kissing’s sake. Because he likes to kiss you and you like to kiss him and good god do you need it) and you forget all about it all again.

God, you love this man.

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