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violettduchess · 2 years

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Night in the Mansion- Vamp Headcanons🌙

A/N: This is not a request. Just an idea I had in the middle of the night 🌝 Sometimes you have to write for yourself.

Fluff

The Grandfather clock at the end of the halls chimes three times, its heavy bronze pendulum gleaming in the moonlight that streams in from the tall, arched windows. Deep within the warmth of your blanket, you stir, heavy eyelids lifting with effort as you wake…

Leonardo:

….with his strong arms around you, his long body curled around yours from behind. One leg also lazily thrown over yours, but you don’t mind the weight. It feels good. You feel warm and safe and protected. He smells faintly of cigarillo smoke and paper and he's snoring. Not loudly, just a lightly voiced breathing sound that brings a small smile to your lips. Who ever would have thought you’d find that endearing? Love makes the smallest things special. You snuggle down within the cradle of his arms and close your eyes again, allowing sleep to reclaim you.

Mozart:

…and blink as you allow your eyes to adjust to the dim, silvery lighting of Mozart’s bedroom. He is not in bed. Rubbing your eyes, you slide out from under the warm covers and into the pale lavender velvet dressing gown he gave you for your birthday. Matching slippers protect your feet from the night’s chill as you light your chamberstick and make your way out of the bedroom, through the rich, shadowy halls until you reach the music room. He is there, at the piano, pencil in hand as he leans across the keys, scratching notes onto paper at a speed which boggles the mind. It is only when you say his name that the pencil stops and his violet gaze turns to you. It takes a moment before the fog of creation lifts and he recognizes you there. Now the yawn he has been stifling escapes. You walk over, sitting down onto the piano bench next to him, your hand coming to rest against the small of his back. Just a few more minutes he promises. You nod and he graces you with that soft smile that is only yours. A gentle kiss to your temple, a caress of your cheek and then he belongs to the music once again.

Theo:

…to feel a heavy arm thrown across your bare back, a leg draped over yours, casually possessive. You smile to yourself as you shift, memories of how the night began dancing provocatively through your mind. As you move, he stirs as well, rolling onto his side. His beautiful summer eyes never open, but his arms reach for you, pulling you against him, skin on skin. He mumbles something, asking in a voice rough with sleep if you’re ok. Your arms are tucked against his bare chest, your head using his arm as a pillow. If he would open his eyes, he’d see the sleepy, soft light of affection and love in your gaze. You tilt your head up and press a kiss to his chin, whispering that you’re fine and to go back to sleep. He huffs out a grunt in answer, but pulls you even closer with his one free arm.

Napoleon:

…and yawn, still half in dreamland. Napoleon’s room is blanketed in shadow and his luxurious covers are heavy and warm. You move your leg, finding a cool spot under the blanket and adjust your pillow. You reach out with your hand in the dark, sliding it across the sheets until you find his. His hand is upturned, lax with sleep. You slide your hand into his and reflexively, he responds, lacing his fingers through yours. If you don’t fall asleep in his arms, you fall asleep holding hands. Always. Connected once again to the man you love, you drift off back to sleep.

Comte:

….your head pillowed on Comte’s shoulder, your arm resting across his lean abdomen. You fit against him, smooth and precise as the stones in Ashlar masonry. You lift your arm, rubbing your eyes as you slowly come out of dreaming. He breathes in deeply and then his eyes, burnished gold in the pale light, open. He glances down at you and you feel a stab of guilt at waking him. As if reading your mind, he smooths back your hair and asks if you’re alright. His voice is the gentle breeze that stirs the sleeping leaves, soft and reassuring. You nod, lifting your upper body away from him for a moment, stealing a kiss in the middle of the night. No one has ever welcomed a thief more than Le Comte. He smiles as you settle back down against him, adjusting you until you are both comfortable. You fall back asleep to the rhythm of his hand stroking your hair.

Arthur:

…to find Arthur, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Sleepily you push yourself up, shaking the last wisps of sleep out of your mind. In the pale moonlight, he looks almost like a statue, his pale skin white as marble, the lines of muscles and sinew echoing Michelangelo's David. You ask him why he’s awake, if everything is ok. He quickly reassures you that he is fine. And then, looking almost sheepish, goes on to explain that he woke an hour or so ago with an idea for a story. He’s been composing it in his mind ever since. Affection and admiration bloom in equal measure within the chambers of your heart. The mind of a writer when inspiration strikes is always a wonder to you. Leaning over, you place a kiss on his cheek, the other hand cupping the side of his face. Would he like to get up, make some notes? He catches your hand, turns to place a sweet kiss in your palm. And then a lingering kiss to your wrist. And then heated kisses down your forearm. And then you’re being pressed back down into the pillows, kisses suddenly raining down so quickly you can’t keep track. What about the story, you ask as the storm of kisses and caresses pours over you. That luv, can wait until morning.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @atelieredux @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @ikehoe @redheadkittys @themysticalbeing @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @leotoru @ariamichel @kpop-and-otome

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xxsycamore · 11 months

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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐂

↬ 💋 "You're going to stand here against the wall because you're being punished."

Napoleon Bonaparte x Main Character • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Bickering; Femdom to Maledom; Light Dom/sub; Lipstick; Kissing; Marking; Neck Kissing; Teasing; Nipple Play; Blow Jobs; Dirty Talk; Vaginal Sex; Size Kink; Multiple Orgasms; Creampie; Post-Sex Cuddless • wordcount: 3,831 • masterlist

a/n: Today marks FOUR years since I love this man......Enjoy🙇🏻‍♀️

"Who kisses the other more?"

"Easy. That would definitely be me-"

"It's me."

Napoleon and MC cross their gazes, lips still parted in mutual interruption. Napoleon raises a brow, quick to defend his bold statement. "Nunuche, I love you, but no."

"Excuse me?? I'm kissing you every chance I get! And you know that!"

"Nunuche." He puts a hand over hers, insisting overconfidently. "Need I remind you of what I'm infamous for, in this mansion? They even go as far as call as to me a kissaholic, yet you still…"

"That's nothing! You might have your kiss attacks in the mornings, but I'm out there giving you full-course meals of smooches all throughout the day! Are you seriously going to argue with me about this right now?"

Vincent awkwardly sinks into his seat, lowering his face into the 101 Questions For Couples book that he picked up as an anniversary present for Napoleon and MC. He is starting to regret his choice, as he never as much as imagined these two to be the type to argue over anything at all. And now they're having a couple's argument over this. It's somehow fitting and, frankly, it's even adorable, but all he wants right now is to restore the peace between the two… but how does he do that?

Out of nowhere, (as per usual) comes Sebastian, who might have listened in. Before Vincent can wave his arms at him to signal SOS, the couple figures out by themselves how to get help from the poor butler.

Napoleon and MC turn in his direction, putting an abrupt end to what only looked like them about grab each other's collars (were they going to fight, or kiss?! ) only to shout at Sebastian, almost in one voice:

"Sebas! Which one of us do you think kisses the other more?"

Sebastian stands up stoic and serious, visibly considering their question with utmost diligence. They've given him too much power in the debate and he has to use it wisely.

His hand travels up to rest under his chin, as if deep in thought. His fingers ghost over his lips which are curling up in a smile. Could it be that he's recalling an event that would help him with his decision?

"I'd say… Monsieur Napoleon. He is the person I have more record of seeing initiating a kiss, MC."

Napoleon is busy putting his hands on his hips triumphally as MC simply stands there and gasps, taking in a gigantic portion of pure betrayal… coming from her dear co-worker of all people, nonetheless.

"That's- That's only because I keep my love in private! What's wrong with that?"

"Absolutely nothing, MC. Forgive me but even without this data, Monsieur Napoleon strikes me as the person who'd kiss you more, rather than the other way around. He is a warm and loving person who wants to remind his partner of his feelings regularly. Physical touch is his second love language. Those are my observations."

What should have been an attempt to put out MC's burning rage seems a lot more like flattery towards the man he idolizes instead. Having had enough, MC gets up in a rush, clearly headed for the door. Seeing that Napoleon is not following behind, she turns on her heel, crosses the room back to his side, grabs him by the sleeve until he's got no choice but to follow, and spells it out for him.

"We're going. To our room."

Before anyone has a chance to say anything, Napoleon is snatched away with the loud thud of a closing door echoing behind him.

Vincent closes 101 Questions For Couples shut and shakily puts it down on the tea table as if it's a cursed relic bound to bring despair. He frowns at Sebastian.

"What do you think will happen now?"

Sebastian nods with eyes at rest, as if the answer is clear as a day.

"It's obvious, Master Vincent. They are going to kiss and make up."

Napoleon knows things are about to get serious when he hears MC locking their bedroom door from the inside. Uh oh. He decides for now it's best to cross his arms and patiently wait until MC decides to approach him and address her grudges. And preferably, to remove that smirk from his face. It's a little hard when he finds her cute when mad. And what is she doing now? She seems to be tying her hair back in a slick ponytail. Someone's getting hot, perhaps. Should he be scared, or should he be aroused? The limited time to ponder is already over as she finally turns around to face him. Her angry glare is turning him on. He is not sure how to fight her with a hard-on.

"Hey…"

"Hey." MC returns the pointless greeting, doing a good job of keeping her unwavering cold expression. She surely doesn't plan on simply standing there attacking him with that dagger-shooting glare alone. Only a breather more and she steps in closer; reaches out to him.

Napoleon stands still, unsure of what to expect. He's got an idea or two about his own next move but he first wants to see hers first. Jade orbs travel down to follow the movements of her hands as she begins to tug at his clothes.

One by one, the buttons of his white shirt come undone under her gentle hands. She is taking her sweet time, undressing him slowly, agonizingly so. It's as soothing as when she helps him change for bed when he's sick. Something tells him he's not getting all tucked in and cozy this time.

"Do you need help with that, Nunuche?"

"Ferme-la."

That's a harsh way of telling him to shut up. But he's guilty of using the same words when he's annoyingly nudged awake in the morning sometimes; he can't help it. He does shut up.

MC makes sure to not leave a single clothed spot on his entire toned body, making him feel exposed and watched by her sharp gaze. After awhile, the silence is at last broken by her.

"Now."

Now? Napoleon almost asks aloud, curious to see how she'd shut him up this time. He hopes his boner is not getting any more obvious because of this.

He expect her to come closer, because where else she could be going right now? But instead, she takes a step back, looks at him from head to toe, and then goes to her dressing table. Napoleon shivers. Is she going to fetch some sort of torture device from there? Could it be that his innocent Nunuche is finally turning to the dark side because he crossed the line teasing her?

Oh, it's just lipstick. She hoovers over the dressing table to look into the mirror and applies it precisely; just as if she's getting ready for a nice date out. Napoleon is dumbstruck and wants to jokingly ask if that's for getting her dominatrix persona on, but remains silent. He is not left hanging for much longer as soon MC pockets her lipstick and giddily returns in front of Napoleon.

"Can I at least lay down?"

"No~ You're going to stand here against the wall because you're being punished."

So that's indeed where things are going. Napoleon gulps down, holding back a sigh fueled by the frustration of finding himself uncharacteristically not in control. He tries to put two and two together, finding a connection between MC's blood-red lips and the fact that she's got him all stripped down like an empty canvas.

She gets on her tippy toes and puts a hand on the wall behind him to steady herself before kissing him gently on the lips. Napoleon wishes with his whole being to return the kiss and transform it into something less innocent, but the chance slips out of his grasp as MC withdraws too soon. Ducking down for another smooch attack, this time she aims at his cheek. It reminds him of being greeted back from work, so pure and warming. Another two or three kisses are pressed against his other side and he feels giddy, imagining what he looks like with so much lipstick smeared on him, like a little kid on his birthday when it's the aunt's turn to give a present. It's ridiculous, everything that is happening right now, but more ridiculously so he enjoys it and doesn't question a thing. That’s the far opposite of a punishment, though. The next kiss lands lower, on his nape, and MC uses her hand to tip his chin upwards so she can place one right under his jaw. Next, she pays more attention to his neck, making a row of kisses down his collarbone. She knows he is ticklish here but that only encourages her more for this impromptu torture.

It doesn't get any better for Napoleon once those devilish lips find their way down from his collarbones. Nothing could've prepared him for the contrastingly bold gesture of suddenly having his nipples playfully pinched and pulled. It comes nonetheless, making him grunt out a moan of surprise. As if apologizing for getting too naughty, MC kisses them better, leaving two identical lipstick prints around his areolas. Napoleon gazes down at her, bewildered, as she slowly sinks lower, kissing her way there as well. Her hands map the familiar area of his abs, replacing the feather-light caress of her fingers with the one of her lips time and time again. Excitement pools in Napoleon's loins as the woman in front of him finds herself fully on her knees, having reached his most sensitive place with her lips in the meantime. His fists clench and unclench with the absence of anything to grasp into and his neglected cock twitches with anticipation.

"Has the color come off already?"

Ah, she refers to her lips that are indeed a much paler shade of red already. The sudden distraction breaks his expectations in million pieces as he just nods tepidly. MC casually sits back on her heels as she reaches inside her pocket to fish out the lipstick.

Napoleon tries to steady his heartbeat, watching her apply it anew on her beautiful lips, kiss-swollen to perfection and just so fuckable, but that's his cock doing the thinking instead of him. Hence the need to calm his pulse. She takes her time in order to be careful, and truly, without the aid of a mirror, perfectly fills them in with the red color; if he knows anything about that. He clicks his tongue, realizing where all this red is going.

"Down there, too?"

"Oh, yes." She clicks the cap back on and discards the cosmetic product to roll off somewhere on the floor for now. "Especially down there."

You're driving me crazy, Napoleon thinks, and if he has to be honest with himself, he is not so sure of however much longer he would be able to limit himself to thoughts alone. Perhaps his Nunuche underestimates the situation. More and more small grunts leave his lips as MC puts imprints of the newly applied lipstick on his fair untanned skin, dangerously close to his cock but missing it on purpose. The red marks bloom on his hipbones and the inside of his tights, it feels like forever before she finally does what he was hoping for most. Wrapping her delicate hand around his stiff length, a kiss appears on the side of it, too; right over a thick vein that runs there. The most frustrating of it all has to be the fact that she does none of it all with the intention of giving him pleasure. Not that her plan is much more innocent, as she particularly marks him as hers all over, in her own way.

He is able to, at last, enjoy her mouth for one short but rewarding moment as she parts her lips and takes the tip in between, swirling her tongue around it. Perhaps not wishing to ruin her make-up with such activity, she lets go in shortly, noticing how he twitches eagerly in her hand. She keeps his cock there, stroking the base slowly as she busies herself with additional kisses on the length of his tights, knees and however much lower her position would allow.

She stands to her feet and the curtain falls. Hands on her hips, like a craftsman admiring his handiwork. Her eyes travel to chase over trails of dusty red roses blooming all over Napoleon's body, but as they finally return to his face, the expression doesn't match her own, not one in a bit. He looks out of breath as if each of those kisses were received by his mouth instead, face flushed and hair sticking wetly to his face.

"Do you like what you've made of me, Nunuche?" Snorts Napoleon, wondering if she is proud of herself for her little game and the effects it had on him.

"Mhmm! I love it."

MC claps her hands together, visibly admiring his body again to rub it in his face just how much she means it when she says she loves it. She gets closer again, lifting up his limp right hand and placing kisses against his wrist, just a little spot she missed.

"I'm almost not mad at you anymore, Napoleon. You look thoroughly kissed, and everyone who gets a look at you would know that it's me who kisses you more… and not the other way around."

"So this is what your little plan was about, hmm?" Napoleon forcibly releases his right hand from her grasp and uses it to collect her chin instead, squeezing her cheeks firmly. "You said almost not mad. What's the price I have to pay for your full forgiveness?"

MC begins playing coy with a little hum rumbling in her throat, and Napoleon releases his hold so she can give the reply she comes with. She decides on putting on her commanding tone one last time, having decided on her answer.

"Fuck me nice and we're good."

"Yeah." Putting the overdue end to her naughty ministrations by makeshiftly handcuffing her wrists with his much stronger hands, Napoleon's gaze pins her down. "Yeah, that's what I was intending to do."

Napoleon suspects that he hardly needs to throw her on the bed himself, as something tells him she'd straightly jump there if he were to let her go now. One way or another, she is soon to find herself pinned under his large frame, inhaling nothing but his scent on the pillow as he envelops her smaller body with his own from behind. He spreads her legs at a favorable angle, barely having the mind to make sure she is comfortable before grabbing into his cock and guiding it towards her sopping wet hole. He grunts and grabs her by the waist, dragging her further down the bed to ensure they're as close as possible, and watches her arching her bottom in anticipation.

Napoleon rubs his blunt head into her swollen lower lips, teasingly. He collects her wetness until the glide is smooth and rewarding, but makes sure it's not too pleasurable for her just yet. He aims at her dripping hole and guides his cock there slowly, enjoying the way she clenches desperately around him as if to pull him further in.

As he withdraws, familiar whines of dissatisfaction reach his ears. Despite the person he knows himself to be, being unfair once in a while feels just right. Especially after what she did to him earlier.

MC curls one leg around his own, trying to make him get the hint and hurry up, and Napoleon's eyes darken with lust at her desperation.

"Shh, ma chérie, I've got you." He fails to hold in a chuckle of endearment, heart swelling with pride at how easily he drives her crazy for what only he could give her. "I've got you, is this what you wanted?"

He gradually pushes in, stretching out her insides with his girthy length that never ceases to be just a little too big for her.

"Oohh! Yes, yes, give it all to me… Napoleon… don't make me wait any longer…"

"Hmm? Can you take it all in?" He strokes over the small of her back, admiring the beautiful arch of her back; the way she presents herself so willingly to him, making it that much easier to ignore the part of his brain that wants revenge for the part of it that wants raw pleasure.

"Y-yes, please, more, please…"

Slowly, he bottoms out. Letting out a satisfactory moan of his own, he didn’t until now realize how much self-control it cost him to keep his gentleness. That and, with being previously stimulated to a certain dangerous degree, he wants to throw away any plans of taking it nice and slow from now on. Screw revenge. He gives one long look at the place they're connected again, admiring how much of him has disappeared inside her hot tightness, and then grunts again, readjusting his position.

He drapes his body over his lover's, chest to her back, using the opportunity of being close enough to whisper in her ear. Each word he utters this way is making her clench deep inside, and he makes the best out of it, feeling utterly satisfied with himself but remembering to keep the grin out of his tone.

"I'm going to move now." He breathes in and then out, "I'll try to go at it slowly because it looks like you need to cool down, but…"

"No…" a sharp inhale, "No, give it your best." She shifts her body a little, rocking her bottom on his cock as if to demonstrate the intensity of her wish. "Fuck me for your pleasure."

Napoleon chuckles darkly, pecking her arm with wetted lips and collecting her wrists again into his iron grip.

"How am I supposed to do that when you're already rutting against me so selfishly? You're trying to get me to set the pace that you need. Look at you fucking yourself against me."

"Nnh-"

"Yeah? Do you want me to let you keep going? Can you cum like that?"

Instead of wanting to keep going or not, a more fitting question would be whether she could retain herself from it. The pulse in her ears is maddening as she chases after her high, the tip of Napoleon's cock rubbing against her sweet spot and MC making sure she is maintaining the angle all the way. Soon enough, without having the time to warn him, she shouts into the pillows and rocks her body repeatedly, using his cock like a sex toy, convulsing harshly around it. Napoleon groans, bucking slightly back into her and enjoying the sight, the feeling of her coming undone in his arms coupled with the heavenly tightness wrapping around his cock. He presses kisses into her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo; then pressing more kisses into to whichever part of her he could reach, until she comes down from her high. He almost considers her calmed down before another set of whines leaves her mouth.

"Already?" Napoleon teases. He gives an experimental thrust, knowing not to overwhelm her senses.

"Mmm, more, more!"

That's a nice reaction, he thinks to himself as he thrusts again, slowly gaining speed. He wants nothing more than to fuck her breathless at last, reducing her to a moaning mess beneath him. He could mockingly refer back to the thought that it all started with her having the upper hand, but maybe later. Though it's intriguing to imagine another scenario, of how this should've played out - with him tied to the bedframe and his hips straddled as she rides him to her satisfaction. He would be a rotten liar if he says he isn't interested in seeing it come true. But oh how much better victory tastes. There is a good reason she didn't go all the way, and that's because she wanted to be fucked raw and fast instead. But since she has his heart - she's been having it for a long time now - more than playing with power he wants to simply satisfy her and quench her thirst for him. He knows that no amount of true dominance would feel as good to her as to simply have him buried deep to the hilt inside her, moaning his pleasure into her ears as he spills his seed against her deepest parts. It's because he feels the same way.

"Do you still want me to keep going? Fast and deep like that? You're going to make me want to fill you up."

"Ahhhh, yes, Napoleon, Napoleon do it, please, fill me up with your cum, please."

He thrusts hard and noisily into her wet heat, feeling his release building up by her cute pleas alone. In addition, she feels incredibly hot and tight around him, coaxing his release as he tries to maintain a steady pace.

Enclosing her arms with his own muscular ones and holding a vice-like grip on her wrists, he lets himself go.

The burning sensation of Napoleon hitting her deepest, most sacred part is slightly painful, but in a very good way. She feels so full. The sheer thought of him giving into his desire and claiming her like this is enough to send her spiraling into pleasure, but the feeling of his hot cum rushing into her depths is mind-shuddering on its own. She doesn’t realize there are tears rolling down her cheeks. Rutting away the rest of his high into her hips, smacking the sweat-lined skin of her ass, he moans her name, letting himself be milked from every last drop as she keeps convulsing and following him into the throes of release in high-pithed, pleading shrieks that morph into downright pornographic moans. Their legs tangle together, maintaining the gradually dying down friction until their senses start to calm down.

Napoleon can feel the slowly cooling layer of sweat covering the skin of his back, though he still feels very hot; the humid summer air demandingly asserting his presence. He carefully rolls off MC, making sure she is getting enough air to breathe. He almost pouts in realization, I'm always the one doing all the work yet she is panting harder. Pleasure still rocks all over him, and his heart beats lovingly at the feeling of MC curling into his chest even when she must be feeling hot.

They stay like this for a moment, catching their breath, hands wandering each other's bodies, and sending muted fireworks of pleasure aftershocks everywhere they touch. It could either be that he is ticklish, or the endorphins kicking in, but soft giggles escape Napoleon's lips and pour right into hers, infecting her along the way. It's a very clumsy kiss, but it gets Napoleon an idea.

"I still think I can turn the score around. Let's see who leaves this room more thoroughly kissed or whatever."

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