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xxsycamore · 2 months

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❝ 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!

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikevamp napoleon #ikemen napoleon #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen fanfic #ikevamp smut #ikemen series #ikemen #otome #otome games

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weird-profiterole · 6 months

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🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃

Don't repost, only reblog

#ikemen vampire #cybird #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #ikevam #ikevamp #otome #otome game #ikemen #cybird otome #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikemen napoleon #ikevamp Napoleon #ikevam napoleon #ikemen isaac #ikevam isaac #ikemen vampire isaac #ikevamp isaac

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ana-thedaydreamer · 8 months

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Happy Birthday Napoleon ❤️

Decided to have a birthday concept this year, which is a flower portrait theme starting with Napoleon 💖

#cybird ikemen #otome game #cybird #ikevamp #fanart #ikemen vampire #ikevamp napoleon #ikemen napoleon #anadreamart

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bicayaya · 7 months

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“i don’t care what the books say about me…”

“…i’m just the man sitting in front of you.”

✿ napoleon bonaparte moodboard

#napoleon bonaparte #ikemen napoleon #ikevamp napoleon #ikemen vampire napoleon #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikemen series #ikevamp moodboard #ikemen moodboard #napoleon moodboard #moodboard #ikemen

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ifthiswingscouldfly · 10 months

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Why I fell for Napoleon

TW⚠️: Don't read if you don't want to fell for him too😭😭.

1) His protective side

2) His sexy side

I'm going to make another post because this one is not enough 🥺❤

°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°•☆°

Post Date: 15th/Jun/2023

*Follow me for more

M🤎

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen napoleon #ikevamp napoleon #ikevam napoleon

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violettduchess · 11 months

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Congrats once again Violet!! ❤️❤️ I hope you get lots of requests to your liking and have fun!! Thank you for all your hard work and the amazing fics you give us 🙇🏻‍♀️ Can I please have...Napoleon + laughing while kissing? 🥺💕 Gahh im excited!! Have a great day!!

A/N: Here you are @kissmetwicekissmedeadly 💜

Napoleon x reader

WC: 1174

You blame it on the fact that you still haven’t quite gotten the hang of operating an oven from the nineteenth century. You’ve watched Sebastian use it and Napoleon, of course. They make it seem effortless. And yet somehow….your efforts have resulted in your Hato Sabure, traditional Japanese dove-shaped butter cookies, looking less like doves and more like blackened crows. A frustrated sigh shuffles past your lips as you look over your personal baking disaster. All you wanted was to make Napoleon a treat, to thank him for the time he has spent with you. All the walks through town, where he points out little things around the city most people would not glance twice at, introducing you to his students, the ones who stare at him with starry-eyed admiration, and especially for coming to your aid the other night, when you were out too late in a town that is too dark for a lone woman hurrying home by dim streetlight. A shudder runs through you at the memory of that circle of men with their hungry eyes and yellow smiles. And Napoleon, appearing like an avenging angel out of the shadows, scattering them back into the dirty corners of the city from whence they came.

The kitchen clock chimes, shaking you out of your reverie, sending a jolt through you. Napoleon will be back soon! You barely have time to make a fresh batch. Your lips press together in a stark line of determination. You have to try.

And you really, really have to hurry.

The Hato Sabure are a beautiful gold, edged in crispy brown and still warm from the oven when you knock on the door of Napoleon’s room. Your heart surges forward when it swings open and he is there, his jacket hanging over the wooden chair by his desk, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the neck.

“Nunuche,” he says with a smile that reaches the beautiful jade of his eyes, warming them like the waters of the South Pacific. “What’s this?”

You step inside, holding the plate of cookies, willing yourself to steady your breathing in the hopes that your heart will follow suit and settle down.

“I wanted to thank you for the other night. Therefore…..cookies.”

His smile grows and your heart is beating so wildly at its beauty that your lungs are starting to follow your heart's lead, ignoring your brain's commands to breathe evenly.

“Cookies are always welcome,” he says in that voice of his, that deep, sonorous voice that melts you like chocolate powder in warm milk. He takes the plate from your outstretched hands, his fingers lightly brushing yours. Your skin tingles at the point of contact, his touch sending tiny fireworks of excitement cartwheeling through you. He sets the plate on his nightstand and sits down on the edge of his bed, reaching for a cookie and eagerly takes a large, enthusiastic bite.

You watch his expression carefully, your lower lip caught between your teeth. They may just be cookies but they are also a piece of you, your homeland, your history, as well as a token of your affection for him.

Your admiration.

Your yearning.

He blinks those beautiful nebulous eyes, his chewing suddenly slowing.

He stifles a polite cough behind one large hand, swallowing the mouthful down. This time his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“They are….unlike anything I have ever tried before.” He takes another bite but you notice the way he tenses while chewing.

Oh no….he doesn’t like them.

Despair floods you, too warm and too quick. It leaves you dizzy as you step forward, taking a cookie from the plate and quickly taking a bite. You have to know what's wrong……or they bad...or is it you?

And just as quickly as you bit it, you spit it out with a gasp.

It definitely isn't you.

“They….they’re so salty!” You stare down at the cookie, feeling betrayed and then despair gives way to horror. You were in such a rush to make a new batch….and the salt was in an identical crystal bowl as the sugar…..

“Napoleon, don’t eat anymore! I mixed up salt and sugar!”

“Dieu merci”, he mutters, setting down the half-eaten monstrosity and then at the look on your face, his eyes widen. “Nunuche?”

You can’t help it. You've started laughing. “You….were eating that horrible thing. My god. I am so sorry….I…” Your words are being swallowed by your relieved giggles. The cookies were truly awful. It really wasn’t you.

Your laughter sparks his own and he reaches out, taking your hands in his and pulls you down onto the edge of the bed next to him. The sound is warm and welcoming and when mingled with yours, it's music to your ears.

“Y-you were going to keep eating that…that…salt lick, weren’t you?” The idea of him choking down those terrible accidents fills you with equal parts amusement, affection and admiration of his kindness.

He squeezes your hands, nodding even as he laughs, his gaze downcast as he takes in the sight of your hands in his, a perfect fit. When he looks up, you’re still laughing, softly, eyes bright as you meet his gaze. And then like magnets, you’re both leaning in at the same time, unable to resist each other’s pull, hands gripping each other tightly as the laughter trickles away at the press of his lips to yours.

Your heart explodes with sunlight, warmth spilling forth from its chambers and filling you with a glow that only he can ignite. A small, final, breathless laugh escapes you and you feel the curve of his smile against your mouth before he begins moving his lips in earnest, his kiss blossoming from something small and contained into something bigger, something new and beautiful and utterly delicious.

When he pulls away, your lips parted in silent protest. He inhales, then gifts you a smile that would brighten even the darkest of midnights. He lifts your hands to his lips, placing a kiss on the top of one, then the other. You allow yourself to be so bold as to run a hand over his soft hair like you’ve been aching to do ever since you laid eyes on him.

“I believe," he murmurs, turning his face to where your raised arm is stroking his hair and placing a kiss on the inside of your forearm, “that this may be the key to removing the taste of your well-intentioned but dreadful treat.”

Again laughter bubbles up from within, from this new-found well of happiness that Napoleon has formed in your heart.

“Is that so?” Your voice is soft with tenderness, effervescent with joy, warm with desire.

He nods, reaching out and winding an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Oui. I am sure of it.” His gaze is bright. Playful. Sultry.

He leans in, capturing your mouth again like the conqueror he is.

Et tu te rends joyeusement.

And you surrender happily.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @bubblexly

#ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #ikemen napoleon #napoleon x reader #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #1k first kiss celebration #otome fanfiction #violettwrites

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aquagirl1978 · 10 months

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Kiss the Cook - Napoleon x Reader (Ikemen Vampire)

A/N: I have been teasing @xxsycamore with the idea of this fic for some time now. Happy 4 years of loving this man. And yes, I hope I destroy you with this one.

Pairing: Napoleon x Reader

Prompt: mating press (from the late spring tryst event held by @xxsycamore)

Tags: NSFW; Minors - DNI; smut; piv; dom!napoleon; fingering; mating press; breeding; creampie; unprotected sex; dirty talk; rough sex

Life is good, Napoleon thought to himself as he leaned against the doorframe, watching you silently as you flittered about the kitchen. The sun was shining, spring was in the air, and you were preparing his favorite meal for dinner.

There was just one thing that was bothering him. You were wearing his apron – the one you got him a few years ago that said “Kiss the Cook.” And the problem with that was that it covered too much of your body. The thick, canvas fabric hid the soft curve of your breasts from Napoleon’s eye.

His frown soon turned upside down, however, when you turned and reached for something in the cabinets. Napoleon’s jaw nearly dropped when his eyes were blessed with the sight of your bare backside, as you were wearing not a stitch of clothing underneath his large apron.

Unable to control himself, Napoleon made a strangled sound, causing you to almost drop the spice jar in your hands.

“Napoleon! How long have you been standing there watching me?”

“Long enough,” he replied, his voice deep and husky. He enjoyed seeing the bashful look on your face, your eyes quickly averting his gaze.

With a small huff, he marched over to you, his long legs quickly shortening the distance between you, and captured your wrist in his hand.

“Bedroom. Now.” His emerald eyes were wild and intense as he gazed into yours. He tugged on your arm, his grip firm on your wrist as he led you from the kitchen.

As soon as your feet made it over the threshold to your shared bedroom, Napoleon had the door closed with a kick, his hand letting you go.

How palms were rough as he pressed his hands against your bare shoulders, his touch enough to cause you to visibly shiver. His mouth covered yours in a deep kiss as his fingers moved to untie the strings of the apron. Once undone, he pulled away only long enough to remove the apron from your body.

Guiding you towards the bed, he pushed you on to its plush covering, quickly removing his shirt as he climbed atop you. His hands wandered, exploring every inch of your exposed skin, feeling the heat radiating from you. A low growl rumbled through his chest as he rubbed his clothed hips against yours, his stiff erection pressing against your skin.

Sliding his hand down your side, his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thigh before sliding his fingers between your legs. A sweet sigh escaped your lips as he slipped one finger, then two, inside you, his thumb pressing on your clit.

You grasped at the bedsheets with your hands as your body writhed against his, your hips pushing up, chasing your climax.

Knowing you were close, Napoleon chose to be cruel and removed his hands before the pleasure overcame you, leaving you whimpering for more. His eyes darkened with desire, he removed his pants, freeing his erection.

Your breath hitched as he rubbed your slit with the tip of his cock. With a low groan, he began to push his length inside you, his thrusts slow and shallow as he stretched you.

Your eyes fluttered closed as your lips parted, exhaling a soft sigh as Napoleon fully sheathed his length inside you. He waited a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size, before slowly thrusting his hips against yours.

His mouth captured yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue probing yours as his body rocked against yours. His fingers dug roughly into your hips as he pulled your body to meet his every thrust.

Napoleon pulled back, breaking your kiss, as he reached between your legs and teased your most sensitive spot with his thumb, his emerald eyes wild with passion as he watched you moan softly.

“My emperor…” you groaned, your pleasure building as he struck a particularly sensitive spot.

Hearing you call him that, his former title, stirred something primal in Napoleon. In a flash, he had your ankles over his shoulder, his movements now relentless, spurred on by your words, the look in his eyes silently telling you he had only one goal in mind.

He continued to fuck you with reckless abandon, desperate to fill you with his seed.

With one loud grunt, Napoleon slammed his hips against yours, his cock twitching before spilling his seed deep inside your fertile womb, your body wracked with pleasure.

Panting, Napoleon collapsed on top of you, his heart pounding in his chest. Fully sated, he rested his head on your chest, easily falling asleep in your warm embrace.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @ikehoe @kpop-and-otome @lucyw260 @queengiuliettafirstlady @kisara-16 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @umi-adxhira @bellerose-arcana @crypticbibliophile @yarnnerdally @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @wendolrea @randonauticrap @aria-chikage

#late spring tryst ikemen #ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #napoleon bonaparte #ikevamp napoleon #ikemen napoleon #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen fanfic #otome #otome games #otome fanfic

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