#napoleon solo fanfiction

[ellethespaceunicorn]

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

Title: I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader

Fandom: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: Napoleon wines and dines.

Warnings: barely any 60s references so if you were looking for that I'm sorry, incorrect table manners, a little bit of Daddy kink, unprotected p-in-v because these are fictional characters

A/N: The title is taken from the song “I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl” by Nina Simone. Literally the naughtiest and sweetest title at the exact same time. A very sexy song, if you have never heard it, do yourself a favor!!! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist 

“What is a lovely little rose like you doing all alone in a place like this?” 

The voice startles you as you sip your espresso at the corner cafe. Of course, being alone in a cafe had its downsides. This wasn’t the first time you were approached here. This wasn’t the first time you were approached today, even. You look up to see who the voice belongs to and you almost drop your teeny cup.

The jawline alone had your panties in a cinch. But the eyes, those are what draw you in. The blue of his eyes was like out of a painting, and you could hardly say you’d ever seen anyone with a tiny golden-brown spot in their left eye. Was that his only flaw? From here, it appeared so. The suit he wore was perfectly tailored. His shoes were shiny like a new penny. You were shaken from your ogling by his voice again.

“Have I passed inspection, Miss…?” You give your name and he tests it out on his tongue. “A beautiful name for a beautiful rose,” With a flick of his wrist, a gorgeous and very real rose appears in his hands and he hands it to you.

You sputter out a laugh as you reach for the rose. He tilts his head as he watches you lift the flower to your nose, inhaling its sweet scent. He walks around the table and sits across from you, almost daring you to tell him to get lost. But, of course, you don’t. You are delighted to see where this may lead.

“So, what is a man dressed so well doing talking to a girl like me? Surely, you must be on your way to some type of important, or at least, fancy meeting?” You sit back, eyeing the man whose name you still haven’t caught.

“I’ll let you in a little secret. I’ve seen you here before. I know you go to the local college and after class, you like to stop here for an espresso before boarding a train back to wherever it is that you live. You’ll be happy to know I have not followed you back to your home. But, sometimes you get a sweet treat. A cinnamon roll on Mondays, perhaps a cherry and cheese danish on Wednesdays, but on Fridays? You spring for something devilish.” He ends his sentence just as your slice of devil’s food cake is set in front of you by the waiter.

“You really have been watching me. A girl with a different head on her shoulders may be nervous knowing she’s being watched. But, you don’t scare me,” you smile at him and start to dig into your cake, “If anything, I’d love to know why you find me so interesting. I mean, there are girls here with shorter skirts than mine.”

“The skirt wasn’t exactly what I was after,” his eyes linger on your mouth as your fork slowly glides back out of it, “Company. That’s mostly what I’m after. Your company. Not theirs.”

“I don’t even know your name, Mr…” You eagerly wait to hear the mysterious man’s name.

“I’ll give you my name, but I’ll need a promise that I may cook you dinner. No dinner, no name. And we act like this little conversation never happened,” he licks his lips, watching you watching him, “So, what do you say, my little rose? Will I introduce myself or will I walk off, doomed to enjoy dinner alone?”

You set down your fork, suddenly uninterested in the last bite of your cake. But instead of pushing the plate to the side, you run your pointer finger through a bit of the icing left behind. Raising your hand and pushing your chair back, you saunter over to the man’s chair. Sitting in his lap, much to the chagrin of the other couples on the terrace. You wipe the icing on his bottom lip. Leaning in while keeping eye contact, you lick away the chocolate until you take his bottom lip between your teeth. His eyes close for but a second and the slightest grunt escapes between his lips and into your mouth.

“I believe I’ve made my intentions clear but I’ll make sure they are crystal. I’m not some delicate flower, I can handle myself. And as handsome and mysterious as you are, if you try anything I don’t feel comfortable with, I’ll handle you as well. We have an understanding, I presume?” 

“You presume correctly. And please, I didn’t call you a poppy or a tulip. You’re a rose. A beautiful flower, but the thorns are treacherous. I’ll make sure you keep those at bay.”

“You owe me a name, pretty boy.” You insist, adjusting your seating in his lap and feeling a hefty bulge underneath you.

“Napoleon Solo.”

“Let’s go, then, Napoleon. I’m famished and I could use something a bit more substantial than that tiny slice of cake.”

Napoleon rises, his hands on your hips as he sets you on your feet. He waits for you to pick up your belongings, walks around the table, and grabs your hand to lead you off the terrace. He walks you to his car, opening the door for you to get in. This was your last chance to change your mind, but, you were having way too much fun.

You ride to his apartment building, and a valet takes the keys to his car before he opens the door for you to exit. A swanky place where it looks like the only people who can afford to stay here must have Esquire or some kind of title attached to their name. You decide to toss caution to the wind because it isn’t like you are staying here. It’s Napoleon who is, and you are is his guest.

You take the elevator up, making out with the tall and gorgeous stranger. The elevator rises as well as his hand up your skirt. Just as his hand reaches the top of your thigh, the elevator signals your arrival on the fourth floor. Napoleon takes your hand and leads you to Apartment 412. He unlocks the door and lets you enter first.

“So, my little rose, I was thinking for dinner I will make us Beef Bourguignon. And for dessert, what say we make it up as we go along?”

“As long as you don’t expect me to do all the cooking, I’m happy to sit back and eat and be merry, Napoleon.”

“Perfect, my little rose. Feel free to make yourself a drink, and do turn on some music. I do better with a bit of background noise.” 

You busy yourself with making an Old Fashioned, finding everything at your fingertips and ready to go. You take a sip and groan inwardly as the bourbon warms your insides. You walk from the little makeshift bar into the kitchen and offer Napoleon a sip. He applauds your drink-making skills and ushers you back out to the record player as he dons an apron and begins to cook.  

You busy yourself with looking at records while soon the smells of sauteed beef reach your nostrils. You only refresh your drink once while listening to Nina Simone Sing the Blues. Her dulcet tones woo you as the bourbon in your drink loosens you up. You don’t notice that you are being watched as Napoleon walks over and fixes himself a White Russian.

He watches as you sway and sing along with Nina. It’s only a matter of time before the timer in the kitchen sounds and he leaves you to your enjoyment of the music. He makes your plates, sets the table, and lights the few candles that sit therein. He pours you both a glass of pinot noir. His last step is to come and beckon you to your dinner. He does so by sidling up behind you and placing his hands gently on your shoulders as his lips dip down to your ears.

“Dinner’s ready, my little rose.” He takes your hand and leads you to the table, pulling your chair out for you in a gesture that wasn’t necessary but is quite romantic. If you weren’t already a bit light-headed from the Old Fashioned, that would have done it!

“Napoleon, this smells amazing. Are you sure you didn’t have some minions in the kitchen helping you to prepare this?”

“I promise, it was just me. Try it, tell me if it needs anything.”

You take a bite of the aromatic beef stew and it melts in your mouth. You can’t exactly help the satisfied groan that escapes your lips, much to the enjoyment of Napoleon.

“I take it you like it then?” The smug smile looks good on him, damn that man.

“Oh, I like it, Mr. Solo. You sure know your way to this woman’s heart. And that is through her stomach.”

He raises his glass of wine, and you raise yours as well. “To my little rose, may she only leave here satisfied. In every which way she chooses to be.”

You clink your glass against his and take a sip, knowing full well that you are going to sleep with this man before the night is over. Or at least, you hope to. You’d like to see what his face looks like in the throes of passion. And there is nothing sexier than a man who knows how to engage all of your senses in one meal.

You finish dinner and wipe your mouth, feeling for all the world like a stuffed pig. You were happy and you were tipsy and you wanted Napoleon to know just how grateful you were. But weren’t you promised dessert?

“So, dessert then?” You ask. 

“You stay seated, I’ll get these out of the way before we start on dessert.” Napoleon wipes his own mouth and comes to collect your plates and take them to the kitchen. When he comes back to the table, he easily pulls your chair back and lifts you easily onto the dining room table. At your look of confusion, he smirks yet again. “Did I not tell you that I would be enjoying you as dessert, my little rose?”

“No, I don’t believe you mentioned that. But, I do believe we both will enjoy that. Do your worst,  Mr. Solo.” You position your thighs for Napoleon to remove your panties. He sits in your chair, pulling himself up to the table and setting your legs over his shoulders. 

He kisses your thighs slowly until you are whimpering for him to take you out of your misery. He obliges by pulling your ass to the very edge of the table and using the flat of his tongue to lick a strip up your sex. An inhuman sound exits your mouth and you have absolutely no fucks to give at this point. 

“You taste like Heaven, my little rose,” he kisses your swollen nub and looks up at you, “but how do you feel?” He uses a single finger to circle your button a couple of times before drawing a line to your entrance. He enters your core slowly and his finger is a perfect fit. Not too much, not too little. Just enough to start to open you up. He starts to kiss and suck at your clit until your hand finds purchase in his chestnut locks. He lets you pull him down into your pussy, savoring every little spasm of your canal. 

Before long, a second and a third finger join the first and your moans bounce off of the walls. With one curve of his fingers, he finds your inner bundle of nerves and you reward him with a squeezing of your cunt and the melody of your orgasm. He licks up every drop of your nectar off you, and as he pulls out his fingers, he sucks them dry as well.

He stands, unbuttoning his slacks and fisting his cock while looking at your sweet blissed-out little face. “Can my little rose take some more dessert?”

“Yes, Daddy, please?” You whine, wrapping your legs around Napoleon’s waist and drawing him closer.

“That’s my good little rose,” he praised, lining himself up and entering you swiftly, “Ohhhhh, you take me so well. Best dessert I’ve ever had.”

He leans down to kiss you as he pulls out slightly and slams back in, swallowing your moans. Holding your face in his hands, he begins a steady rhythm inside you and hits your spots as if you had created his dick in a lab in some odd science experiment.

Soon, he drags orgasm after orgasm out of you until all you can say is Daddy and Yes. An endless stream of nonsensical noises comes out as well, but Napoleon is all too happy to commit those to memory while not commenting on them. He just continues to pound into you mercilessly, chasing his own release now that your juices cover the front of his slacks.

“Are you ready for Daddy to fill you?” He asks, a bruising hold on your hips as he plows into you.

“Yes, Daddy, yes!” You gasp, tears falling down your cheeks as you are overstimulated.

“Fuuuuuck, such a good little rose!” He exclaims as his hips settle flush against yours. 

You can feel every twitch of his dick as he empties inside you. You watch as the sweat from his brow drips down his temple as his eyes close. You hear his breathing pick up as he tries to steady himself. The heady scent of sex in the air intoxicates you. You grab him by the tie and pull him down to kiss you. All five senses are ablaze with Napoleon Solo.

Your hand through his hair is what allows him the strength to open his eyes again. He looks at you as though you hung the moon. He remains inside you as he slots his lips against yours before resting in the crook of your neck.

“Gotta love a man that cooks. You can always stuff me twice.” You laugh, not being able to stop yourself from accidentally pushing Napoleon out of you.

“Really? A joke right now?” He laughs, standing to his full height and looking down to see his spend leaking out of you.

“I couldn’t help myself, Mr. Solo. It just…came to me.”

“I bet, my little rose.” He helps you down from the table and ushers you to the bathroom as he cleans the rest of the table up.

You clean yourself up and meet Napoleon back in the living room as he sits on the couch. You enjoy listening to some more music and having a few more drinks with him, forgetting all about your train home. 

You wanted a little sugar in your bowl, after all. And you got it and then some. This man was sweet enough to give you cavities ten times over and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Tag List**

@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67

@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry

[@mayloma @littlefreya I tagged you both because of the reblogs earlier lol]

**Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list and for what plz  😁**

#henry cavill #henry cavill characters #napoleon solo #napoleon solo x reader #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #napoleon solo fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #napoleon solo fanfiction #the man from uncle fanfic #the man from uncle fanfiction #napoleon solo fic #the man from uncle #i want a little sugar in my bowl

[geralts-yenn]

Geralt-Yenn's Masterlist

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

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

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

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

List by character under the cut:

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

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

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

bonfire (Sy/reader) 🌩 🔥 💕

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

Something like that (Sy/reader) 🔥 💕

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

Part 1, Part 2

mother's day (drabble; Sy/reader) 💕

Yearning (drabble; Sy/reader) 🌩 💕

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

I need you now (Evan Marshall/reader) 💕

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

pranked (Mikey/reader) 🔥 💕

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fakin' it (Mikey/reader) 🌩 🔥 💕

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

Zoom (mini drabble; Mikey/reader) 💕

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

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

anahita (Napoleon Solo/ofc) 🔥

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

Memories (Walter Marshall/ofc) 🌩 🔥 💕

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

Part 1, Part 2

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

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

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

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

Headcanons / multiple characters:

Lazy morning sex 🔥

On-going series:

Inspo boards for my stories

Fluff = 💕 Smut = 🔥 Angst = 🌩

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

Yenn-writes

#my masterlist #henry Cavill #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #syverson fanfic #captain syverson #syverson fanfiction #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall #mike (hellraiser) #mikey hellraiser #mike (hellraiser) x reader #mike (hellraiser) fanfiction #mike (hellraiser) fanfic #august walker fanfic #august walker fanfiction #august walker #melot fanfic #melot fanfiction #melot #napoleon solo x ofc #napoleon solo fanfic #napoleon solo fanfiction #evan marshall fanfiction #evan marshall fanfic #evan marshall

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

Love, Napoleon Masterlist

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Black!OFC

Series Summary: Love letters can only do so much, sometimes you need a grand romantic gesture. This is the love story of Napoleon “Leon” Solo and Roberta “Bobbie” Collins.

Spotify Playlist is here.

YouTube Music playlist is here.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics (envelope), @saradika-graphics (hearts)

Cover Art by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 (TBD)

My Masterlist 

#henry cavill #henry cavill characters #napoleon solo #napoleon solo x reader #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #napoleon solo fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #napoleon solo fanfiction #the man from uncle fanfic #the man from uncle fanfiction #napoleon solo fic #the man from uncle #love napoleon

[daydreaming-in-letters]

The Banana Club Auditions

Audition 3: Napoleon "The Gourmet" Solo

05/05/2022

Pairing: stripper!Napoleon Solo x strip club owner!reader (2nd person)

Word Count: 3,456 (Did I cross out one word to make this happen? Yes. Yes, I did.)

Warnings: alcohol, language, oral (f receiving)

Summary: Napoleon Solo has a taste for the finer things in life and he thinks you're one of the finest things he's ever wanted to taste, even if you might become his future boss.

A/N: Here we go again. Another Thirstday, another audition at the Banana Club. I hope you'll enjoy the five course meal that is Napoleon Solo. I sure did.

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms. 

Audition song: Take Care of Business by Nina Simone

With a groan you threw the pen onto your desk and slumped back into your chair. This was insufferable and you felt your throat tighten, making it harder to breathe with every second you continued to stare at the heaps of bills, order lists and timesheets of your boys that had kept piling up for some time now. There was hardly anything in this world you hated more than paper work, always pushing it as far back as possible, but sadly it couldn’t be delayed any further.

The first drops of champagne on your tongue soothed the agony a little and so you decided to down the whole glass in one swig—for motivational purposes. You had finally managed to pick up your pen again when a knock on your door shattered your fragile concentration in an instant. 

“Boss?” A heap of brown hair peeked through the tiny slit.

“Come on in, Barnes,” you muttered, not very amused by the ill timing of his visit.

“Sorry to disturb you, boss.” The smile your assistant and leader of the squad shot you would have charmed the pants off any poor soul he chose to attack with it, and so you couldn’t help but smile back and forget about the frustration his disruption had caused you. “There is a Napoleon Solo here to see you.”

Napoleon Solo. If the name hadn’t already been a hint, you knew for sure he was trouble when he strutted into the office as if he owned the place. You could think of nobody who had ever turned up to an audition at a strip club in a suit and tie. But he did, sporting the full attire, completed by the golden signet ring on his left pinkie.

“Mr Solo,” you greeted him, grabbing your empty glass before you rounded your desk and walked over to the dark blue Chesterfield that stood at the far left of your spacious office. 

“Ma’am.” 

Attentive eyes followed you, watching your every move as you pulled the bottle from the cooler and filled your champagne flute again. You held his gaze, checking him out blatantly above the rim of your glass as you drank.

Judging from his first name, you had expected someone much shorter, but the only thing this Hercules seemed to have in common with his famous namesake was the grandeur of an emperor he carried himself with. You knew his type, men that considered their mere existence a gift to womanhood. They usually promised a lot, but seldomly delivered. That’s why you didn’t hire them. Against popular belief, this job was not about good looks, self-confidence and getting naked to the rhythm, in this job you had to read your client, disclose their desires and estimate their boundaries. Sadly, men like Napoleon Solo were almost always too full of themselves to care about anything but their ego.

“Tell me, Mr Solo, you like attention, don’t you?”

He lifted his head, raising his chin defiantly. “What makes you think so?”

The smile you sent him held a silent challenge. “There is hardly anything about you that doesn’t give me that impression.”

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound which sparked the faint hope that this might not be a total waste of your time after all.

“Well, you have mine.” Slowly you sank down onto the Chesterfield, placing your champagne flute next to the cooler. “For now. Better make it worth my while. Indulge me, Mr Solo.”

Tilting his head, a corner of his mouth pulled up as he wordlessly accepted your challenge. It took him a moment to set the scene, and it didn’t really surprise you that he declined your offer to choose the music for him. This man was a professional, a perfectionist who left nothing to chance and you couldn’t wait to see him work.

The first beats of the music supported that impression. You would have chosen a completely different tune for him, but this was so utterly fitting it hurt and you couldn’t hold back the disbelieving chuckle that fell from your lips. This man was full of surprises. He smiled knowingly as his jacket fell from his wide shoulders in tune with the song, making you ask yourself for a moment whether mind reading belonged to his skill set as well.

But then he turned, swaying his hips seductively and your mind went blank, eyes fixed on his behind as you marvelled at the artwork his tailor had created to put it so perfectly on display. His tie joining his jacket, he faced you again, just in time to catch your hypnotised gaze.

“Seeing anything you like?”

You did, still you wouldn’t grant him that satisfaction just yet. “Well, sadly I’m not actually seeing anything much yet, Mr Solo.”

You had been sure, maybe even hoped to find a hint of wounded ego on his face, but you didn’t. Instead, he answered with one of his gorgeous smirks. “A circumstance that can easily be rectified.”

Button by button, you followed the growing gap in his shirt south, tingles running down your spine, sparked by the furry beauty he revealed. Apparently, Napoleon was intent on keeping his promise. Succumbing to your wish, he freed his body from the white fabric that had still veiled too much of what you wanted to see. Once he had fully exposed his sculpted chest to you, he came closer, your heart speeding up when he refused to stop until he was hovering above your lap. He was so close now, so infuriatingly close. The heat he radiated caught in the tiny gap between your face and his chest, pulsing, rolling in the infinitesimal space in the same pace his hips had taken up now. 

It would have been so easy, still, however much your hormone-infested brain told you to close the gap and run your fingers along his skin, you refused yourself that pleasure, but once again, Napoleon seemed to tap into your mind and read your hidden desires as if he had written them himself. 

Your eyes snapped up to his as his fingers wrapped around yours and refused to let go until the exquisite touch of his slacks brushed against your palms. His impressive muscles flexed rhythmically, former softness turned into steel, and this time you didn’t hold back any longer. Spurred on by his fevered gaze, you let your hands glide along his massive thighs, up, up, up, snaking around his gyrating hips to grab hold of your prize. Effortlessly, the tight globes flexed underneath your fingertips, leaving you no choice but to imagine that it would probably feel exactly like this if he slowly drove into you, over and over again, not tiring before you came undone for him. 

The smug bastard must have sensed your igniting arousal like a bloodhound, baring his perfect teeth to smirk down at you, killing you off with a wink that sent your pussy clenching vigorously. Oh no, this was not how it was supposed to work. You would not be turned into an instrument to boost his bloated ego even further, no matter how much you revelled in the sensation of his godlike physique, and so you drew your hands away. They hung awkwardly at your sides, as far away from his thrilling flesh as possible, but Napoleon Solo impressively proved that he could be just as stubborn as you were. He tutted, scolding your childish behaviour with a shake of his head, his eyes boring into you as he once again took your hands in his. And to your own surprise, you let him. 

He even had the audacity to release a core drenching sigh as he brought them to rest on his fluffy pecs. Under different circumstances, you would have joined him in the audible display of pleasure, moaning your appreciation of his deliciousness into the sizzling air that filled your office, but instead you stayed quiet, enjoying him silently as he guided your hands down his stomach to another patch of fur that vanished underneath the hem of his slacks, begging you to follow where it led. Tempted, your fingers glided along the seam, teeth biting down on the inside of your cheek to quell the voices inside your head that dared you to give in and sink your fingers into the forbidden territory.

The length of one fingertip was all you allowed yourself to dip into his trousers and sweep through his curls for a tiny bit. Your delicate caress awoke a storm in his sea blue eyes, and you knew he wouldn’t have minded had you chosen to proceed, but you didn’t. And when the tip of your finger resurfaced, it brought a tiny piece of white lace to light. He left you no time to pay it any mind though, as to your great dismay, he stood and drew away.

And as soon as he started moving again, you had forgotten all about it. Bending his knees, he ground his hips in a manner so sinful it was impossible not to envision them pressing against your own. It wouldn’t have needed anything else to make your head swim with the desire to feel him move inside of you, but again, Napoleon had other plans. 

In an attempt to kill you, he shuffled forwards, rolling his whole body, once, twice, ending in a criminal hip thrust right in front of your face. You knew he could see it in your eyes, that burning hunger for him, but instead of gloating about his triumph, he stayed silent. Lips pulling up into a playful smile, he invited you to touch him again. And you did. There was no reluctance in your touch anymore, roaming his body freely, caressing, teasing, clawing at his soft skin, while he kept on moving to the melody. 

But all too soon, he stopped your delight. In an iron grip, his fingers closed around your wrists and the contrast to the delicate touch of his lips that pressed soft kisses to your fingertips could not have been any sharper. You were about to protest when he took a few steps back, depriving you of his closeness, but when his hands gripped the fabric of his trousers hard, you refrained. With one powerful tug, he ripped the last piece of clothing from his body in one go. Well, almost the last piece of clothing, you corrected yourself, as his actions had revealed a tiny, lace-trimmed apron that hid solely his most precious bits from your prying eyes. 

You couldn’t help but laugh about the cocky grin that sat on his lips. He was so pleased with himself and his silly jest, you just had to adore him.

Then the music ended and for a seemingly never-ending moment you just looked at him and he looked at you. You got up, walking towards him, your eyes gliding along his well-trained physique shamelessly. Slowly you rounded him, and his eyes followed you as far as they could without turning, the knowing smirk never leaving his lips. You took your time, letting your eyes wander along the valley of his spine that divided his wide back. There were so many things to admire apart from its unearthly triangular shape. The curves of his shoulder blades, framed by muscles over muscles, or the dimples on his lower back which crowned his immaculate behind. They sat right above the neatly bound ribbon that held the teensy apron on his hips. 

All the while, Napoleon didn’t say or do anything. He seemed totally unfazed by your close inspection, but knowing men like him, you knew how much he basked in your attention. 

“Tell me, Napoleon,” you ended your extensive tour of his body and halted in front of him, “do you enjoy cooking?”

“Leon, please. Only my mother calls me Napoleon. And yes, I do. Cooking and eating. I never had the will to resist a fine flavour.”

Now it was his eyes that roamed your body, leaving you in no doubt about his intentions as they lingered at the apex of your thighs a little too long to be misunderstood.

“I seriously hope we’re still talking about food here,” your mouth said while your mind already imagined his face buried between your legs. An intriguing prospect, you had to admit. But there was no need to rush.

“One of us sure is.”

He held your gaze with a nonchalant grin, as if the fucker hadn’t just revealed to his new boss that he would very much like to eat her out.

“You know we are not that kind of club, right?”

“And I hope you know I don’t make this kind of offer to just any woman.”

Betrayed by your own body, your breath hitched in your throat as he licked his lips, slowly, pointedly while he took the liberty of eyeing the object of his desire up and down again. He took a step closer, taking your widening pupils for a good sign, and as he leaned in to inhale your scent, he whispered, “Give me just five minutes of your time. You won’t regret it.”

His sweltering breath on your skin broke your last restraint and your hands cupped his face to pull him against your lips. Your bodies moving in a passionate dance, he soon needed to taste more than just your sweet lips. Slowly he made his way south, but you felt him everywhere at once. Lips tracking the line of your jaw, tongue gliding along your pulse point, teeth digging into the supple flesh of your breasts his hands had so expertly laid bare while his mouth had distracted you. 

You moaned his name as he left featherlight kisses all over your stomach. Sure fingers unzipped your pencil skirt, and you felt the warmth of the fabric glide along your legs and pool around your ankles. A rush of heat shot through you, collecting in your core and cheeks alike when his nose pressed into the lace that shielded your womanhood from him to inhale your rich scent directly from the source.

“I bet you’re going to taste exquisite, darling.”

His voice was deep and heavy with desire, and he didn’t wait for your permission to hook his thumbs into your panties and pull them down. You had expected him to ravish you right there, one leg resting on his shoulder to grant him access to your sweet heat, but he didn’t. Instead, he pressed a single kiss to the line of curls he had revealed before he rose to his feet and carefully manoeuvred you backwards until you rested on the Chesterfield again. His massive body hovering above you, you couldn’t wait to feel him skin on skin, his fur rubbing against the sensitive flesh of your breasts, teasing you until you would beg him to have his way with you. 

Yet again, your predictions proved completely wrong when he stopped mere inches before his chest would touch yours to extend his arm and pull the bottle of champagne from the cooler. A few drops of condensed water trickled onto your skin, making you hiss as they sent a violent shiver down your spine. 

“Don’t worry, they’ll be in good company.”

Eyes narrowing upon his seemingly nonsensical remark, he just winked, obviously amused by your confusion, before he tilted the bottle and poured a gush of champagne onto your chest. You gasped upon the impact of the cool liquid, goosebumps spreading across your whole body as it cascaded down your breasts and sternum, a few droplets collecting in your navel. Eager to lick up every last bit of the mess he had created, Leon’s head dove down. You moaned as his tongue eased along your torso, your fingers weaving into his hair. He was very thorough, sparing not even the smallest part of your skin and when he finally sipped his final reward from the tiny pool in your belly, he voiced his appreciation for your luxurious taste loud and clear. 

“A very promising entree. Rich in flavour, but not too dominant.” He smirked up at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Now, shall we proceed to the main course?”

His smirk widened when you wordlessly propped one leg up on the backrest of the sofa, letting the other glide over the rim of the seat to open yourself up as far as you possibly could for him.

“Enjoy. But don’t forget your napkin, Leon.”

He licked his lips, his eyes transfixed by the mouth-watering display he was about to indulge himself with.

“A napkin won’t be necessary, darling. I don’t intend to waste even a single drop of your honeyed nectar.”

There wasn’t even time for a single last breath before his mouth got to work. With a loud moan his tongue parted your folds to finally taste what he had been craving from the moment he had set foot into your office. You were every bit as delicious as he had expected, and more. Sweet and salty, a touch of vanilla and musk, the unique mixture of flavours making him harden in an instant. 

“How about a drink with your meal, Mr Solo?”

He needed a moment to make sense of your words and another to look up into your challenging eyes. He hadn’t even noticed that you had snatched the bottle from his hand, too lost in the taste of your luscious pussy already. You could see the moment he understood, his eyes wrinkling in a smile instead of his mouth that refused to part from you. And so you poured the sparkling wine onto your skin, watching in awe as the rivulets oozed into your curls and vanished into your crevice. 

A rich slurping sound, followed by a litany of sighs and moans made lightning pulse through your core, the electricity rushing through your veins, causing short circuits in your brain and disabling every last bit of decency you had left.

The bottle fell from your hand, tumbling to the ground with a thud. It’s remaining contents were probably flooding the plush carpet by now, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was his mouth continuing its sweet torture, his tongue gliding through your folds, flicking your sensitive nub before it slid back down to dip into the ambrosia your chalice provided so generously for him. 

“Fuck,” you pressed out breathlessly, fingers diving into his hair again, “don’t stop.”

He wouldn’t, not until you begged him to. And when you finally did, you had no idea how many highs he had already coaxed from you. You must have lost track after the fourth or fifth time. By then, you had only been able to whimper his name and croak out your wanton order for more every time he had opened the gates to nirvana for you.

It was strange, you thought, as he looked up at you with questioning eyes, how you could have misjudged him so completely. He wasn’t the first one of course, and he probably wouldn’t be the last, but he undoubtedly was the best proof of your fallibility you had ever had. A shame you would have to terminate this now.

With a mournful smile, your hand raked through the wavy mess of hair on his head that had once been so neatly pomaded before you made to get up. But Leon didn’t let you, strong hands adamant about keeping you right where you were.

“I’m sorry, but this time I really do need to get back to my work.”

He sighed, a hint of sorrow clouding his radiant eyes. “That is disappointing.” Averting his gaze, he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh and when his eyes found yours again, a new-found hope glistened through his defeat. “Just another five minutes?”

You only knew him for a few hours, but it was obvious that Napoleon Solo had a very different sense of time than other people. At least when he had a pair of thighs wrapped around his head in ecstasy. Your heart grew heavy as your eyes fell onto the piles of paper on your desk. There was no way you couldn’t refuse him, however much you wished he would continue to feast his insatiable hunger on you. The words of denial already forming on your tongue, you turned to face him again. But it didn’t take more than another of his cheeky half-smiles that made your walls flutter and ache so pleasantly for him to let them die away.

“Oh, to hell with it,” you mumbled, your fingers weaving into his locks, determined to pull him back down into your lap. Just another five minutes.

Audition 4: Ransom “The Playboy” Drysdale

Tag List: If your name is crossed out, it means I wasn't able to tag you.

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @nerra75 @indigosaurus @nowyouseeme098 @cap-just-said-language @miss-rebel-without-applause @wheretheriversrunintothesea @maan24 @mochionly @introvertedmouse @sofiebstar @kebabgirl67 @marytudorbrandon @littleone65 @thoughtfullyfurryangel @mimi-just-living @themanfromu @liecastillo @capncassas @agniavateira @enchantedbytomandhenry @lumiousmoon @tumblnewby @crazybutconfidentaf @viking-raider @thorins-queen-of-erebor @aletheladyinred @blavikennbutcher @luclittlepond @diegos-butt @gearhead66 @justjulie1105 @lyrarodriguez @sapph--ire

#napoleon solo x reader #napoleon solo x you #napoleon solo #stripper!napoleon solo #napoleon solo imagine #napoleon solo fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #strip club au #the banana club auditions

[lhenrycavil]

Oh My Little Girl, come here🤤

#henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #napoleon solo

[drmaddict]

Better Half

Summary: Napoleon's better half is not what anyone would have expected and yet it is exactly what one should expect.

Warnings: none

Word count: 448

"I know someone," Napoleon said, taking a sip of his drink.

Illya looked at him emotionlessly. "Those are top-secret KGB files. Not even I had access to them."

"Jealous that I might know more?" he grinned at him and winked teasingly.

"It's impossible."

"That word doesn't exist in their vocabulary."

"And who is this mysterious gentleman supposed to be?" asked Waverly. "A friend from...the art trade?"

Napoleon shook his head. "SHE deals in other merchandise...information. There's nothing she can't get her hands on." He smiled into his glass. "If there's one thing I've learned from her, it's that a room is never truly empty."

Illya rolled his eyes. "We don't have time to waste on an untrustworthy affair."

Napoleon looked at him piercingly. "I wouldn't suggest her if I didn't trust her."

Waverly tapped a pencil thoughtfully on the tabletop in front of him. "And what makes you so sure?"

"If she wasn't trustworthy, I wouldn't have married her.", he replied simply. "Albeit under a different name." he shrugged and downed the rest of his drink as the rest of the gathering stared at him in bewilderment.

________________________________________________________________

They were sitting in a ramshackle motel. Only Napoleon remained standing, meticulously keeping away from all the furniture. Dust layed thick on the small dresser next to the bed, whose springs had also seen better days and squeaked happily when Gabby changed her position.

The door opened silently, although that shouldn't be possible with the rusted hinges. A small figure entered the room. She wore a worn flat cap, a too-long brown coat, and baggy pants topped off with a pair of scuffed brown leather shoes.

At first glance, anyone would have seen a fourteen-year-old paperboy. It was only when the figure removed their cap that the too-long hair became apparent. Napoleon moved toward her with elegant steps and took off her coat.

"Still quite the gentleman." she grinned at him.

"When am I not?" he asked teasingly.

"Oh I can think of a few situations.", she returned just as teasingly before reaching into her waistband and pulling out a piece of paper. "You know the drill. I was never here and this piece of paper never existed." She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll see you where there are no stars."

"On the fifth of May?" he asked.

"Sounds good." She tugged playfully at his tie, destroying the symmetry of the elaborate knot, before disappearing from the small room as quickly as she had come.

"Cute." said Gabby as Napoleon held out the small note to her.

"What's her name?" asked Illya.

Napoleon grinned with a soft expression around his eyes. "That ist something noone really knows.“

#napoleon solo fanfic #napoleon solo x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters #henry cavil x reader #henry cavil x y/n #napoleon solo x y/n #Napoleon Solo

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 31 - The bathroom equation

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 30 -- Part 32

Summary: The guys (and girls) take to the group chats to discuss some serious issues

Warnings: Post contains generalizations. Please don't murder me for that.

Word count: Exactly 3k!!!!

**A/N: **SO! The guys joined me in the shower yesterday (not as sexy as it sounds, unfortunately) and as @geralts-yenn and I had had a discussion about what the house groupchat would look like (including very necessary shadow-group with just the girls, and a group chat with everyone who regularly spends time at that house...) this is what I came up with.

[The guys' chat is 179CS🏡, the girls are 179CS🧠🧠, and the everyone-group is 179CS Full🏡]

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @livisss @sillyrabbit81

@ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos @thelastsock @wa-ni

@proud-aroace-beastie @totalwool

Mike:

Sherlock: Great, she’s asking me what I’m laughing at.

August: If you value your life, don’t show her.

Sherlock: And if she steals his phone and sees it anyway? Xoxo Elena

Marshall: Paramedics or police?

Charles: Both.

August: Both.

Leon: Both.

Marshall: 👍🏻

Sherlock: They’ll never get here in time 😈

Mike: Nice knowing you, buddy ❤️

Elena: Dani, get your man in line.

Dani: What he do?

Elena: [video]

Ange: I mean…

Sol: He’s not… wrong…

Dani: He sent me that 🙊

Lexi: Is he okay?

Dani: Was he okay to begin with? 😂

Ange: Not that we know of…

Sy: Speaking of showers… We need rules.

Mike: Eh, why?

Sy: Because I was late for my date yesterday.

August: Which is our problem… how?

Leon: It’s not.

Charles: 👆🏻

Sy: In a house shared by eight guys there’s no excuse for a line for the bathroom!

Mike: Some of us have ✨girlfriends✨

Mike: You should try it sometime

Sy: 🦆🫵🏻 ❤️

Mike: Aww ❤️

Charles: He has a point, though.

Charles: Don’t appreciate getting yelled at for taking a shit in my own damn bathroom.

August: Not to mention the hair.

Sherlock: I don’t see the problem there? Just ask them to clean the drain when they’re done?

Leon: Spoken like a man who has never once in his life watched a woman clean a shower drain…

August: Good luck and farewell, Holmes

Sherlock: ?

Mike: Tears will be cried. Drains will be cleaned — by you.

Mike: Murder may be committed.

Sherlock: Surely, it can’t be that bad?

Geralt: No, he pretty much nailed it.

August: As much as I hate to admit it, the man is right.

Sy: So. New rules?

Leon: House meeting?

Mike: Sure. We’re all home, right?

Sy: Nope.

Mike: What? Why?

Sy: … sometimes when a date goes well, you end up staying over.

Sy: Are there other questions you need answered, bud?

Mike: I think I’m good…

Charles: Ladies, enough with the gossip

Leon: Right. Some of us have work to do.

Charles: Exactly

Sherlock: I highly doubt he was referring to you, Brandon.

Mike: Oooh, mad shade!!! xoxo Dani

Charles: Thanks. Sy, the complaint?

Sy: I had to wait in line to take a shower because the bathrooms were overrun by women.

Leon: Noted. The proposal?

Sy: I’m just pointing out the problem. Someone smarter than me can worry about the solution 🤷🏻‍♂️

Sherlock: Am I right to assume asking the girls to just… spend less time in the bathroom would result in murder, as well?

Sherlock: Never mind, Elena is nodding violently next to me right now.

Mike: What do you want us to do? Assign all the girls to one bathroom?

August: That might work, actually.

Leon: Doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.

Charles: Yes?

Mike: Wow, the one time I have a good idea, I don’t even realize it’s a good idea…

Mike: Wait, no.

Mike: I’m not permanently sharing a bathroom with seven of you because we sometimes have girls over.

August: Kid has a point.

Mike: I’m on a roll today! 😎

Sherlock: That leaves us with the question of how many women would have to be present to necessitate giving them their own bathroom, correct?

Marshall: If you desperately want to make it sound like math, then yes.

Sherlock: Not math. Logic.

Sherlock: And I find myself compelled to point out that I understand and enjoy logic.

August: Dealing with women is an aggravating experience, then, isn’t it?

Sherlock: Absolutely mystifying. But I’ve found that thus far the benefits outweigh the costs.

Mike: You know, for you… That’s actually kinda sweet 😂

Marshall: Romantic 👍🏻

Leon: Don’t tell her that…

Charles: Guys, seriously!

August: Right. Sol and Ange together never caused any problems.

Sherlock: Neither have any… liaisons of a fleeting nature

Mike: Hookups. You mean hookups.

Sherlock: You couldn’t pay me to say that.

Charles: Moot point. The average walk of shame happens before the shower.

Leon: It’s not like they stay for breakfast…

Leon: Beat me to it 😂🤜🏻

Charles: 🤛🏻

Geralt: The both of you are unbearable.

Geralt: August is right.

August: But…

Geralt: Sol and Ange don’t cause problems because Sol doesn’t take forever in the shower.

August: Right. But Angel is a nightmare, and so is Elena. Those two alone are enough to cause traffic.

Sherlock: Correct me if I’m wrong, but ‘Elena and Anjelica together, or either of those combined with any two others, or neither of them but a minimum of three others’ sounds like the kind of rule that will ensure we won’t even need it for the foreseeable future.

Sy: It also gives me a headache.

Mike: I don’t think I even understood enough of it to get a headache…

Sherlock: Minimum of 3, then ask me and Angie to not occupy both bathrooms at the same time. 🙄🙄🙄 Problem solved. You’re all still in trouble for even talking about this ❤️❤️❤️

Ange: They’re giving us what now???

Elena: Bathroom rules…

Dani: Tell me you’re kidding 🙃🙃

Elena: Dead fucking serious 🙄

Sol: Why?

Elena: Apparently 🙄🙄🙄🙄

Elena: We caused a traffic jam last night and made Sy late for his date???

Elena: Fairly sure Alicia didn’t mind because he’s still over there 🙄🙄🙄

Ange: What are the rules?

Elena: I don’t know. I’m glaring at Sherlock from a distance now.

Elena: I’m pleased to report he looks terrified every time I do 😈😈

Elena: They’re considering a girls’ bathroom.

Ange: I’m considering permanent occupation of all bathrooms.

Elena: Your boy called us both nightmares, by the way 😇😇

Elena: Apparently we take too long to shower, idk

Sol: You both take your time, sure…

Elena: Okay, fine. But he doesn’t have to point that out 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Ange: Funeral invitations to follow…

Ange: No but seriously

Ange: He thinks I take too long in the shower?

Ange: Fine!

Ange: I’ll take shorter showers!

Dani: He really said that? 💀

Ange: Let’s see how he feels about that in a week or two.

Ange: Enjoy flossing, August 🙃🙄

Dani: 👀👀 [the agonizing scream you just heard was brought to you by me spitting my drink over Mike’s keyboard]

Lexi: 🙊 Mike and keyboard both okay?

Dani: Keyboard fine, Mike hyperventilating. He’ll be alright, back to you Ange.

Ange: I might have to rescind this attitude…

Ange: As much as I want to get back at him for this, I don’t want him to run…

Sol: You really think he’d care? Ange… he loves you…

Ange: Not that much…

Lexi: Girl, please?? Have you seen the way that man looks at you?

Ange: … He’s never seen me, like… untweezed and unshaved and whatever

Dani: Never?

Ange: Never ever ever.

Sol: 👀👀

Sol: But why?? I only shave when I feel like it – which is almost never – and Geralt has never said anything??

Ange: Girl, you’re a blonde 👀👀

Ange: I don’t wax this stache, 2 weeks from now you’ll be confusing me for August. I swear.

Lexi: Okay there’s literally no way that’s true.

Dani: And even if it was, he’d still love you.

Ange: Yeah but I’m not about to find out, thanks.

Lexi: It’s your body, obviously

Elena: Do what feels comfortable

Dani: But if you do ever miss a day and he does say something nasty…

Elena: I’ll grab the shovels 😇😇

Leon: Ladies and gentlemen — mostly ladies. A little PSA regarding an update in the house rules at 179th Crescent Street. It was recently brought to my/our attention that the addition of a number of regular overnight guests has created a somewhat unmanageable situation in the realm of bathroom use. Therefore, the new policy is as follows: When three or more of the girlfriends are staying over, the upstairs bathroom is all yours! Management is currently unavailable for negotiation.

Charles: TLDR: take your long-ass showers on the second floor. Please.

Ange: This message was deleted.

August: I saw that.

Elena: Oh, I’ll say it with my chest

Elena: You all suck.

Sherlock: No…

Mike: Whatever you do, man, don’t finish that thought 😂

Sherlock: I think they got the message regardless.

Ange: Oh, we got it alright…

Dani: You’re lucky you’re cute, Sherlock 🙄

Mike: Hey!

Lexi: I’m so sorry to say this but… Over my cold, dead body am I walking up a flight of stairs in the middle of the night to pee.

Charles: @Leon Told you the ‘not up for negotiation’ thing wasn’t going to work.

Leon: It was worth a try.

Geralt: We’re not banning anyone from the house for using the ‘wrong’ bathroom

Sol: Then why the pointless rule?

Sy: Because yesterday BOTH bathrooms were occupied for well over two hours!!!

Sy: Seriously, what do you do in there?

Mike: Elaborate satanic rituals?

Sol: Occasionally.

Ange: Let’s see… Do we actually enlighten them?

Mike: Please do, I’m curious now…

Charles: I know what happens when I’m also in the shower… 😏

Ange removed Charles

Ange: Any other takers?

August: Angel…

Ange: Don’t tell me I’m overreacting!

August: I didn’t say a word 😑

Ange added Charles

Ange: Behave.

Charles: 🤐

Elena: Good boy.

Leon: Do you say that to Sherlock, too? 😏

Ange removed Leon

Marshall: Jesus, Ange…

Ange: Ugh, fine.

Ange added Leon

Mike: Seriously, girls… Other than summoning the occasional demon — what are you doing in there?

Sol: I’m gonna let Elena and Angie handle this one…

Ange: Alright. So first I check if I have all 4059834 items I’m going to need. Then at some point you’ll have to get naked, unfortunately…

Dani: Look at everything you hate about yourself for a solid 5 minutes until you’re nice and depressed

Elena: Didn’t come here to be called out like this, but thanks 🙄🙄

Sol: Poke your boobs and watch them jiggle because it’s funny until you’re less depressed

Mike: Getting jealous…

Ange: Then you turn on the shower and wait for the water to warm up

Lexi: To those ungodly temperatures from the pits of hell, you know? 👀👀

Mike: I’m not apologizing for that video, just so you know.

Lexi: That’s actually useful time to make sure you find the right playlist ✨✨

Sy: YOU DON’T NEED A PLAYLIST FOR A SHOWER

Lexi: Hard disagree

Elena: Yes, we do.

Sol: … Am I supposed to listen to my own thoughts in the shower?

Ange: I’d never be able to suppress my homicidal tendencies ever again, holy shit…

Dani: Then we actually get in the shower and warm up because the bathroom is cold, just like our souls.

Marshall: I’m genuinely learning more than I’ve ever wanted to know…

Mike: This is already taking longer than my whole entire shower…

Ange: And we’re not even close to being done.

Elena: @Ange Especially us…

Leon: Okay, fine, I’ll bite… Why is it different for the two of you?

Sol: Because they have curls?

Charles: That makes a difference?

Sy: So?

Mike: Why does THAT matter?

Marshall: Is that… important??

Elena: You’re all so clueless, it’s almost cute 🥺

Ange: @Marshall you actually might want to pay attention to this…

Ange: Alright. By the time I’m warm, my hair is usually wet all the way through

Ange: Massively heavy, by the way.

Ange: It’s hair-washing time! Which, idk about @Elena, but I have to do this in at least 4 sections if I don’t want to miss half of it.

Elena: I can get by with 2, but 4 is better.

Elena: Of course, 9/10 times I fucking forgot to section it before getting in the shower.

Ange: Obviously. So now you’re wrangling your wet hair into submission

Elena: Which is damn near impossible.

Ange: Exactly. But when that’s finally done, you can get to washing it.

Elena: And rinsing it until there’s absolutely no way there’s still any shampoo left.

Ange: Which takes a long ass time, BTW.

Ange: Then it’s ✨deep conditioner✨ time!!! Like… it’s always deepco time. I don’t even use regular conditioner anymore because my hair thinks it’s pointless. So like. That.

Elena: Mood.

Ange: And that stuff needs to sit in your hair for like 15-30 minutes

Mike: That’s like… 3 whole showers…

Charles: I don’t even spend this kind of time on my schoolwork 👀

Geralt: That’s not something to be proud of.

Sherlock: Imagine what you could do if you did.

Ange: Either way, it’s okay, because next… We exfoliate.

August: For those who haven’t been keeping count, we’re on step 12 or something. Jesus.

Charles: @Leon what the damn hell does our water bill look like?

Sol: Pay attention! Exfoliate! Then shave. Which, when you’re 6 feet tall in the showers here… damn near impossible, by the way.

Elena: (Cut yourself at least twice no matter how long you’ve been doing it…)

Lexi: Ohh! Cubicle yoga while holding a razor!!!

Dani: And while wet and slippery…

Ange: We’re superhuman 💃🏻

Sy: You’re nuts is what you are. All of you!

Dani: Anyway, when we reach baby dolphin status…

Dani: Which doesn’t happen until we’ve checked at least three times if we haven’t missed any spots…

Dani: I personally squeeze in brushing my teeth and skincare before rinsing my conditioner.

Elena: 👆🏻

Ange: Same! If I’m paying like 30 dollars for a hair mask that’ll barely last me two weeks, I’m gonna at least spend some time with it 👀✨

Sol: So that’s teeth and face wash in the shower. Then rinse that conditioner.

Ange: Which — again — takes a while if you have curly and/or a lot of hair.

Ange: Also, before I rinse my hair, I spend an ungodly amount of time detangling it with my fingers, which I have to do while the mask/conditioner is in. So…

Marshall: And at this point you’re finally nearly done, right?

Sherlock: … please, for the love of God, let it almost be over!

Ange: Oh, my precious little babies ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Lexi: At this point we’re slowly considering getting out of the shower, yes.

Dani: But the rest of the bathroom is cold, so we take our time gathering the courage to get out.

Leon: 🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️

Sherlock: The entire bathroom is hot enough to steam salmon at this point!

Mike: And yet, they manage to emerge from Mordor absolutely freezing…

Sol: When we do finally manage to make it out, we wrap ourselves in the biggest towel we can find…

Ange: By the way, ladies, you can thank me and Sol for the presence of the big towels in this house.

Sol: Oh GOD I remember the first shower I ever took here.

Geralt: The towels were fine.

Sol: …………. Geralt, I love and respect you, but you’re wrong and also stupid. ❤️

Ange: You’ll pay for that…

Sol: Looking forward to it 😈😈

Mike: Please continue…

Dani: We’re left with the rest of our skincare. So; toner, 1-3 serums, moisturizer. Sunscreen or oil, for me, depending on the time of day.

Ange: But the mirror is fogged up from the shower, so you have to deal with that…

Leon: YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR FACE IS, DON’T YOU?

Ange: Yes, but it’s also very pretty so I wanna look at it. Thanks.

Lexi: How can I meticulously study all the imperfections in my skin if I can’t see my face???

Dani: Exactly! (To both of those things, simultaneously)

Dani: So, after that, it’s time to moisturize everything you’ve exfoliated and/or shaved.

Elena: Which is… pretty much everything.

Sol: Cue deep sigh because this is where you find out you actually did miss a spot somewhere.

Ange: And then it’s back to the hair for the curly girls!

Elena: Leave in ❤️❤️❤️

Marshall: What?

Sy: ??

Mike: Wut?

Ange: It’s like conditioner, but you don’t rinse it out.

Sherlock: @Elena the stuff that smells good?

Elena: Yes 😂😂😂

Dani: Which reminds me; @Elena, is that your Quench in the bathroom or mine? I can’t remember…

Elena: Oh, God, me neither…

August: Settle this in the shadow group, ladies.

Lexi: You know about that, huh? 😂

Dani: Shit, they figured it out…

Sol: Not surprised… They’re not completely clueless…

Ange: Just mostly…

August: Thanks. Enough of that.

Ange: Okay daddy 🥺❤️❤️

August: 🙄

Ange: Anyway. After the leave-in and maybe two or three other products, I wrap my hair up in my hair-towel — or hair-tshirt.

Charles: Another towel? Why in the fuck?

Ange: Boys. I understand that you don’t give a fuck about this, but…

Ange: Regular towels are actually not good for your hair.

Elena: 👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻

Lexi: Besides… You can’t dry long hair and your body with 1 towel…

Sol: What she said.

Sol: What they both said, actually.

Leon: Are we finally at the end of all of this?

Leon: I’ve literally never been more glad to not have a girlfriend, jesus fucking christ…

Dani: Yeah, pretty much… You get dressed, dreading the cold of the hallway, and then we quickly go find a boy to snuggle up to who can then tell us we smell nice and are very soft, so we can convince ourselves we didn’t just spend an unholy amount of time doing all of that for absolutely nothing.

August: All of this is… insane.

Ange: Hey! I can stop doing half of this, if you think it’s so unnecessary 🙄🙄

Elena: Now that I think about it… It wouldn’t even save any time, because you still need to let the conditioner sit, so…

Charles: Right, ladies, this was very interesting…

Charles: I’m going to take a shower now.

Charles: Talk to you in about… 10 minutes 🙄

Sy: Remind me to never ask any of you any questions literally ever again…

#henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters #mike hellraiser #sherlock holmes #walter marshall #august walker #napoleon solo #charles brandon #captain syverson #college au #fluff

[justabigoldnerd]

Thank you so much @cha-melodius for the tag!!!!

Ajdgajkshdjssk I couldn't remember what I have or haven't posted so I had to scrub through my dash lmao I have too many WIPs right now 😅

Anyway, here's a snippet from "I Am Your Lover (I Am Your Jailor)", the first chapter of which will be posted as soon as the modern/college AU is complete!!

“And? What's so bad ‘bout movin’ into the castle, anyway?” Henry pushed forward, looking down his nose at Solo. Even though he was a few years younger, his spirit was firey and aggressive. It always made Illya bristle on Solo's behalf. “Have you no regard for our friends? Alexander? Jones? Nikolai? If the castle was all they made it out to be, we would see their faces. They wouldn't have disappeared in the night. The Queen would've stopped looking,” Solo spat, his fisted hands shaking at his sides. Henry planted his feet and reared back to throw a punch, and Illya saw red. He darted out, intending to catch the swing himself, but a hand on his chest and arm stopped him short, guiding him away. Enraged, Illya looked up to voice his protest to whoever was holding him, but the fire died on his tongue when he saw the deceptively calm waters of Solo's eyes. Solo wasn't looking at him, however. He still had his blue-flame angry glare fixed on Henry. “Enough,” Solo said, suddenly sounding a lot more tired, “If you want to stay, go ahead. The rest of us are leaving.”

No pressure tagging @pippinoftheshire @yallwildinrn @huggiebird @heytheredeann @too-young-to-fall-in-love

@nicijones and anyone else who wants to join!!!

#tmfu #the man from uncle #illya kuryakin #napoleon solo #gaby teller #tmfu movie #napollya #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #tag game #wip wednesday

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Love, Napoleon!: Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Sweet Desserts and Sweeter Kisses

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Black!OFC

Fandom: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

Word Count: 1.9K

Series Summary: Love letters can only do so much, sometimes you need a grand romantic gesture. This is the love story of Napoleon “Leon” Solo and Roberta “Bobbie” Collins.

Chapter Summary: Bobbie and Leon entertain Gaby and Illya.

Warnings: p-in-v sex, creampie, fluff

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics 

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

“Leon! It’s been six months. You are now legally obligated to introduce me to your friends.” Bobbie moves around the kitchen, checking on various dishes on the stove and in the oven.

“Gaby is beside herself to meet you,” Leon acknowledges from his post, leaning in the doorway to the quaint kitchenette.

“Well, see? Gaby is excited, so why aren’t you?” She challenges, pulling out a baking dish from the oven and setting it on the counter.

“It’s not Gaby that I’m worried about. She’s a sweetheart once you get past the tough exterior. But Illya? Tough is all he knows. I can’t exactly blame him,” he says, looking over to where Bobbie picked her head up and looked at him for more information. “And I can’t exactly tell you why that is. Sorry, love.”

“Right, right. Need-to-know basis. But not to worry; I’ve got a secret weapon for Illya. I made a dish specifically for him. And if I know anything, it’s the way to a man’s heart, and that is through his stomach. So, even though this is nerve-wracking as all get out, I think he’s going to at least tolerate it,” she huffs, balling up a dishtowel before tossing it on the counter.

Napoleon walks up behind Bobbie and wraps his arms around her, his head resting on her shoulder as he pulls her into him. “You know, I am so proud of you for putting all this together for my friends. You’ve done so much to make everything perfect, and I think you deserve a little treat of your own.”

“What are you-” Bobbie starts, only to be cut off by the shock of Napoleon’s hand smoothing down her sweater-covered breast and further down over her corduroy knee-length skirt. When it disappears under the fabric, she squirms. “Leon, they’re gonna be here any minute!”

“Well then, I’d better make this fast,” he whispers. Walking backward, Napoleon rests his hips against the counter behind him. Holding Bobbie against himself with one hand across her middle and one in her panties, he continues toying with her swelling clit until her legs buckle. “There she is, so close already.”

“Leon…please,” she trails off, her wringing hands at her sides. She knows if she reaches for his hand, he will stop. Throwing her head back against his chest, she looks up into his face and witnesses how much he truly enjoys having this power over her. That doesn’t stop her from pleading with her big brown eyes.

“Oh, you know exactly what that look does to me,” he growls, leaning down to capture her lips with his own. His hand that was around her middle comes up to cradle her face, his thumb caressing her cheek as she stands on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. Breaking the kiss, Napoleon turns them around to face the counter, pulling Bobbie’s skirt up and her panties down. “That kiss of yours is going to be the death of me.”

He has his pants unzipped, his cock pulled out, and inside of her in record time. He knew he wouldn’t last long, not that it mattered. His main goal is to get her off so her mind clears. He moves his hips back before slamming them back in, and she is already putty in his hands.

Within minutes, he has Bobbie on the brink of her orgasm. He’s holding her there, his hands on her hips, as he maintains a punishing pace. With every thrust, he pushes her closer to the edge, only to catch her before she can fall. Only when he’s ready will he allow her to come crashing down.

Judging by the footfalls and the sound of the front door of the apartment building closing, he doesn’t have much time. Luckily, he knows how to play her body. His right hand finds her puffy clit while his left hand migrates to her throat. 

Whispering into her ear, “Come for me, pretty girl. Let go and show me you can follow directions like I know you can.”

As if by a magical spell, her walls clamped down around him. He had every intention of fucking her through her orgasm; he really did. But the grip her pussy had on his cock was enough to send him right over the horizon with her. His hips are still as he empties inside her, all while still managing to hold up both of their bodies.

Extricating himself from her hold, Napoleon squats down to pull Bobbie’s underwear back up her legs and rights her skirt again before fixing his clothing.

“I am going to be thinking about my cum leaking out of you all night long,” he sighs, kissing her forehead when she turns around to face him.

Just as she opens her mouth, three sharp knocks sound on the door to her apartment. They fuss over each other for a moment, making sure it doesn’t look like they were just having sex. Once done, they go to the door to greet their guests.

Bobbie swings the door open, greeting the couple in her apartment. “Gaby, Illya. I’m Roberta, but you can call me Bobbie. So nice to finally meet you. I was starting to believe you might be a figment of Leon’s imagination.” She takes their coats, and Napoleon gets drinks ready for them.

“I hope Leon’s imagination flattered me, at least,” Gaby laughs, sipping her dirty martini and winking at Napoleon.

“I only told her the good stuff,” Napoleon replies, bringing a Sazerac to Bobbie and a Manhattan for Illya.

Illya nods to Napoleon, smiles at Bobbie, and remains silent.

Bobbie ushers everyone to the dining table before she starts to bring out dish after dish of foods that are almost too beautiful to eat. Leaving dessert as a surprise, she comes back to the table, and everyone starts to serve themselves. As the first bites are taken, compliments are given to the chef.

“Bobbie, this is delectable,” Gaby hums, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Darling, you have outdone yourself,” Napoleon praises.

“Thank you. I’m so glad you like everything. I’ll be honest, I was nervous that I was going to burn something or undercook something. I was a wreck,” Bobbie giggles, looking over the faces of her boyfriend and her guests. “Eat up; I have a treat for dessert, and I hope you all like it.”

Illya eats in relative silence, not one emotion gracing his face. Bobbie has been secretly staring at him for most of dinner. When the meal is complete, Gaby volunteers to clear the plates away, and the women retreat to the kitchen. While they are out of earshot, Napoleon turns on the record player, and the smooth sounds of Peggy Lee’s Fever fill the air. 

“Peril, what game are you playing at?” Napoleon cuts to the chase, motioning for Illya to sit on the couch with him.

“It’s been a long time since I had dinner with a civilian. My social skills may not be the best. If I don’t say anything, I won’t accidentally-”

“Have a good time?” Napoleon supplies, cutting off Illya.

Illya rolls his eyes. “I’m not afraid to have a good time. I'm worried about getting close to new people. I don’t know how to be a civilian. I’m an agent,” he says, crossing his arms.

“She’s not going to say anything, so I will. You’re on the verge of being rude. So, do yourself a favor and speak to my lovely before she thinks you don’t like her; that’s if she doesn’t already think that,” Napoleon huffs, tilting his head at Illya.

The girls come out of the kitchen with dessert already plated with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream. Gaby places two plates on the coffee table while Bobbie serves Napoleon and Illya. Noticing the look of surprise on Illya’s face, Bobbie thinks the worst.

“Is there something wrong?” she supposes.

“Not at all. I haven’t had sharlotka since I was a little boy. My mother used to let me help make it for special occasions,” he marvels, taking a bite and closing his eyes before nodding and saying, “This is perfect. So was dinner. I apologize for my earlier silence; please don’t think I am dissatisfied with you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I figured you would be the hard sell. Luckily, I had the idea for the sharlotka and knew if anything, you’d at least be impressed by me,” Bobbie jokes, taking a bite of the dish. “Oh wow, you weren’t kidding. That is going in the recipe book, for sure.”

“I’ll have to get that recipe from you. I think you’ve made Illya’s new favorite,” Gaby chuckles, smiling at her husband when a blush creeps up on his face.

When dessert is done, the couples talk for a while over coffee before Illya notices Gaby nuzzling into his side and suggests that they end the night’s fun. By this time, Napoleon is already a pillow for Bobbie as she leans into him from her spot on the couch.

Napoleon picks up Bobbie’s head from his lap, depositing it on the couch after he gets up, not wanting to wake her up just yet. He walks Gaby and Illya to the door, saying goodbye on behalf of himself and Bobbie and promising to tell her that they enjoyed themselves.

Closing the door behind them, he walks over to the couch, where a tired Bobbie is now hanging halfway off the couch. He knows today was a struggle for her; planning an entire dinner and entertaining is no short order. He is so proud of her, not just for today but in general. He thinks the world of her, and nothing could change his mind.

Picking up her limp body from the couch, he takes her into the bedroom and lays her down. He removes her shoes and his own before climbing into bed next to her. He laughs when she cuddles into him and wraps an arm and leg around him possessively. He plants a kiss on her forehead and is met with a mumble from Bobbie.

“What was that, little one?” He presses, cradling her sleepy face in his hand, unsure of what he heard.

“I said I love you, Leon,” she confesses, ducking her head and looking up at him.

Napoleon breaks out into a grin and leans down to kiss Bobbie, only to stop at the last second before their lips touch. Looking into her eyes, he says, “I love you too, Bobbie.”

Bobbie melts in his arms. She knows how Napoleon dotes on her and spoils her. But this love confession of his means the world to her. She also knows that she has loved him for some time now, but the timing was never right to tell him. 

Until tonight, this moment could not happen. Napoleon knew that if she didn’t get along with his fellow agents, it would be quite tricky. But watching her win over Gaby so easily and Illya so charmingly cements in his mind that she is worth every ounce of his love.

Of course, if you ask him, he’s loved her since their first kiss. If he’s honest with himself, he still feels butterflies when her lips touch his.

Chapter 5 (TBD)

A/N: This story is far from over. OMG, I missed my babies so much.

**Tag List**

@deandoesthingstome @cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @kingliam2019 @astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry @rebelangel1102 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @juliaorpll78

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁 If you are crossed out, I couldn't tag you

#henry cavill #henry cavill characters #napoleon solo #napoleon solo x reader #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #napoleon solo fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #napoleon solo fanfiction #the man from uncle fanfic #the man from uncle fanfiction #napoleon solo fic #the man from uncle #love napoleon #ellethespaceunicorn made a playlist #napoleon solo x black!plus size female #napoleon solo x black!plus size female oc #napoleon solo x ofc #napoleon solo x black!ofc #napoleon solo x black ofc

[geralts-yenn]

🛁 - A nice, relaxing bath

Leon looks tense...

Napoleon Solo x OFC Amina Ahmadi

warnings: fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p-i-v sex (it's the 60s, guys, we're smarter now, right?)

word count: 1,7k

A/N: Nina, thank you for this ask. It made me really nervous at first because Napoleon and me, we haven't been talking before. But damn, that was a pleasure to write. I had so much fun. Hope you like what I made out of it.

Anahita is the Persian goddess of water, fertility and healing

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

Moodboard

dividers by @firefly-graphics

Napoleon carefully brushed his shirt over his bruised shoulder. The last 24 hours were filled with a little too much action for his taste. He preferred jobs that required his skills of persuasion and trickery. But when it needed to be done, he wasn’t shy of using his muscles like he did last night, even if it meant that he couldn’t enjoy his last day in Isfahan to the extent he had planned. In no way was he capable of taking care of Amina in the way he had intended to.

A deep groan escaped his mouth through gritted teeth as he started to undo his pants. His ribs burnt in his chest with every of his movements.

But as his suit pants dropped to the floor, the most difficult part was done. He slipped on the silk bath robe that was given to him at the reception and made his way to the entrance of the antique bath house. Leon had gladly accepted the invitation of the Shah to his private bath. He knew to appreciate the luxuries that his job brought with it. 

As the minutes passed by in the heat of the steam bath, Napoleon felt how his muscles began to relax, the tension evaporating from his body with every drop of sweat that ran down his chest.

The bright sound of a bell signaled him to move to the heated marble table. Napoleon carefully dropped on the warm stone and lay on his stomach, not fighting the moan, as he felt the pain running through his chest.

A pair of warm hands settled on his shoulders. “Mr. Solo, I am delighted to hear such sounds coming from your lips, but I didn’t expect to hear them before I even lay my hands on you.” The voice was soft and seductive. 

Napoleon jerked in surprise, only realizing by then that he shouldn’t move so briskly. His head turned, but he couldn’t see more than some caramel toned hips leaning against his side.

“Amina?” he asked, although he already knew it was her sweet voice. The hands on his back slowly ran up and down his spine with just the right amount of pressure.

“Sh, Leon, we better not be talking too much. This is not exactly a situation we both want to be found in. Just lay down and let me take care of you.” 

Napoleon wasn’t used to being in the position of accepting care instead of giving. He was used to being in charge. But after all what happened in the last few days, it felt incredibly good to give up on taking responsibilities for once. And so, he just lay there and savored the touch of his Persian rose.

Soon, he felt not only her soft hands on him, there were her plush lips pressing against his neck, and the mounds of her breasts ever so slowly brushed over his back as she reached for his arms, her pebbled buds teasing him. Now, this was enough for Leon to take. He was happy to risk being found in this very inappropriate situation when it meant being able to feel this gorgeous woman.

Carefully resting his weight on his elbow, he turned and wrapped his other arm in a smooth motion around Amina’s waist, pulling her close to his chest. The scent of jasmine filled his nose.

He pressed his lips on hers, and she opened them for him, letting him explore her mouth and taste her. After a teasing bite on her lower lip, he pulled away, only far enough to be able to speak. 

“Tell me, ātashé del-am*, do you want me to take you here on this stone or where do you want me to take you?” His hot breath grazed over her humid jaw as he mouthed his words. Amina broke away from his embrace with a smile playing around her lips.

“We might enjoy the warmth of the thermal spring, my dear,” she hummed and held out her hand for him to take.

As he wasn’t able to move fast, Leon took advantage of his slow way of moving by admiring her divine body from head to toe. He walked behind her, and watching her derrière swaying from side to side as she guided him to the steaming pool, he felt his cock twitching in anticipation. 

*) Farsi for “fire of my heart”, often used to call a lover 

Amina let Napoleon take the lead as he stepped down into the hot water. He sat down on the tiled bench and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the warmth settled around his body. Amina followed him and straddled his thick thighs. She devoured his lips once more, feeling how Napoleon got more demanding, more impatient with every second that they spent kissing.

His hands dropped below the surface, one settling on her firm breast, rolling her nipple between his digits, the other one heading deeper, finding its way between her legs. His fingers, skilled to move perfectly, feeling every variance, soon had Amina squirming over him. He alternated between teasing her swollen clit and working her open with two of his fingers, curling inside her to find her sweetest spot. Finally, he felt her tightening around his fingers as she came. Her breath was shaky, and she bit on her lip to suppress the treacherous moans.

When she was coming back from her high, she took him in her small hands and stroked him. Napoleon gasped as he finally felt the friction he craved so much. Amina raised her hips and positioned him. And then she sank down slowly on him until he was sheathed completely between her velvet walls.

She started moving in a slow rhythm, rolling her hips up and down on him. Napoleon reveled in the sight in front of him. Amina’s bosom sank into the water just to rise out of it again, droplets running down her soft, dark skin. He couldn’t keep his mouth any longer from her. His lips were roaming over her neck, her shoulders, her collarbones, just every inch of skin that he was able to reach.

Feeling him so deep inside her, Amina lost all her self-control. Her pace got faster, harder. As she felt the tension building in her core, ready to bring her over the edge any moment, she desperately grabbed his shoulder.

The grunt that came deep from Leon’s chest was not one of the lewd sounds he had been voicing until now, it was a sound of discomfort and pain. Amina immediately recoiled, her eyes shooting up to Napoleon’s face. But the pained expression was already gone. Leon smiled at her apologetically.

“Don’t hold back, dear. I can take it.” Without waiting for an answer, his hands were on Amina’s hips, and he pulled her close to him. After taking a deep breath, he stood up, wrapping her legs around his waist and placed the surprised woman on the edge of the pool. This time he bit back the groan that wanted to escape his lips as his ribs burnt in his chest. 

His hands pushed at her knees to make her open her legs for him. Napoleon knelt on the bench and his hands and lips slowly proceeded their ascent along her calves, her knees and her inner thighs. 

Amina quivered in anticipation as his head disappeared between her legs. But Leon didn’t grant her wish to feel his mouth on her just yet. Instead, he just stopped and stared in wonder. 

“Just look how beautiful you are, ātashé del-am. Opening up for me, sharing your most precious part with me. Thank you, my dear.” And then he started to devour her, diving into her core like a starving man. His tongue lapped through her folds and teased her pearl. 

When at first Amina yearned for his fingers to join, she soon lost every ability to think at all, just feeling how Napoleon brought her to her next climax just with his mouth. 

Panting heavily, she felt how Leon left his place between her thighs after a few more lazy licks over her drenched pussy. He stepped out of the pool and knelt down between her still spread legs. 

“I want you on your knees, my love.” Leon sounded pained, but determined. And Amina couldn’t think of anything else she wanted more than to be taken by him right here and now on the stone floor. She went on all fours, raising her buttocks invitingly for him. 

Leon took the invitation and was behind her in an instant. 

His hands guided her to lift her bottom even further while arching her back down onto the floor. He let his fingers run over her bare cheeks, squeezing her flesh tight. Amina bit on her lower lip, aching for him to take her. 

“Mm, this is a glorious sight!” Leon cooed. Amina turned her head to look back at him, to see his eyes were dark and full of desire. Napoleon slowly let his fingers run through her folds, playing with her arousal while he was stroking himself. 

Finally, she felt the tip of his cock between her folds again. Amina cried out as he buried himself deep inside of her. Every bit of caution they both had not to get caught was gone by now. They couldn’t keep quiet any longer. 

Napoleon grabbed Amina’s hip, sinking his blunt nails into her skin. His thrusts were hard and fast, finally searching his own release 

He moaned with every thrust now and Amina reacted to his sounds with pure lust. She moved her hips in the same rhythm as him, trying to feel him as deep as possible. 

Amina felt another orgasm build up and begged Leon to take her harder. He obeyed, giving all he had to give, not even noticing his broken ribs any longer.

When her walls clenched around his cock, Leon lost his rhythm and rutted into her desperately. Finally, his body tensed, he shuddered and then Amina felt him spilling his seed into her. After another few slow thrusts he collapsed next to her. His chest was heaving while he was trying to catch his breath.

Amina pressed a small kiss on his shoulder. “Mr. Solo, I hope you are satisfied with our service?” she whispered with a smile on her lips.

Napoleon chuckled softly. “I am very pleased and would be delighted if I could take advantage of your endeavors at my suite tonight once more, Miss Ahmadi.

taglist:

@raccoon-eyed-rebel @deandoesthingstome @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @ylva-syverson @ellethespaceunicorn @kebabgirl67 @dopegardensaladhuman @kingliam2019 @liviss @identity2212 @enchantedbytomandhenry @valacircareads @summersong69 @poledancingdinos @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @mrsevans90 @henryownsme @myaimlessuniverse @itsrubberbisquit @uunotheangel @hannah9921 @sycochick @mary-ann84 @littlefreya

#napoleon solo #yenn answers #my writing #napoleon solo fanfic #anahita #Napoleon solo fanfiction #napoleon solo x ofc #napoleon solo smut #henry cavill #henry cavill characters

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

🎧Elle the Space Unicorn's Masterlist🎧

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

🎧Bless my current muse...🎧

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

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

Masterlist is under the Cut...

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing)

Love, Napoleon (ongoing)

Scrapbook (finished)

Daddy Knows Best (possibly on hiatus)

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

Touch and Go (possibly ongoing)

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

What Are You Doing, StepBro?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Humphrey x Stepsister!Reader

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

Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sub!Clark Kent x Domme!Reader

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

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader

Summary: Napoleon wines and dines.

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

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

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

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

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

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

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

Some Things You Just Can’t Refuse

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

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

Happy Birthday, Cupcake

Rating: General

Pairing: Clark Kent x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark surprises you for your birthday.

Treat Me Like A Slut

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

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

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

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

Don't Take Your Eyes Off It

Rating: Explicit

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

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

Don't Kill My Vibe

Rating: Explicit

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

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

Fifteen Minutes

Character: Walter Marshall x Unnamed Black!OFC

Rating: Explicit

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

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Pairing: Syverson x Reader 

Rating: Mature

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

Pretty As A Picture

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

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

Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

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

Oxytocin

Rating: Explicit

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

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

My Little Strawberry

Pairing: Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Rating: Mature

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

Doing Something Unholy

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Reader

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

Praise You

Rating: General, pure fluff

Pairing: Clark Kent x Insecure PlusSize!Reader

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

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

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

Shape-Up

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cpt Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

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

Follow-up to Shape-Up: My Little Strawberry

The Paganini Problem

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

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

Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

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

No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

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

Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

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

Walter Marshall - Hobbies

Lloyd Hansen - Family, Quirks/Hobbies, Sleep

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

Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

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

Humphrey (Stardust)

Charles Brandon (The Tudors)

Mike (Hellraiser: Hellworld)

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

August Walker (Mission: Impossible - Fallout)

Will Shaw (The Cold Light of Day)

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes films)

Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)

Evan Marshall (Blood Creek)

Melot (Tristan and Isolde)

Thomas Apreas (Hotel Laguna)

Chas Quilter (The Inspector Lyndley Mysteries)

Stephen Colley (I Capture the Castle)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR HENRY

Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man)

Andy Barber (Defending Jacob)

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out)

Steve Rogers (Avengers films)

Curtis Everett (Snowpiercer)

Ari Levinson (The Red Sea Diving Resort)

Nick Gant (PUSH)

Jake Jensen (The Losers)

Frank Adler (Gifted)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR CHRIS

Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

Charles Blackwood (We Have Always Lived in the Castle)

Steve Kemp (Fresh)

Max (Sharper)

Nick Fowler (The 355)

Lee Bodecker (The Devill All The Time)

Chris (Destroyer)

Justin Capshaw (Law & Order)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR SEBASTIAN

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

General Fanfiction (Everything)

Henry Character Fanfiction

Chris Character Fanfiction

August Walker

Bright Like The Moon

Love, Napoleon!

Daddy Knows Best

Don't Take My Sunshine Away

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest

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

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

#elle the space unicorn #ellethespaceunicorn speaks #my masterlist #ellethespaceunicorn masterlist #ao3 #chris evans #walter marshall #clark kent #napoleon solo #syverson #walter marshall x ofc #hc sherlock holmes #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #sherlock holmes #august walker #hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser #evan marshall #lloyd hansen #ellethespaceunicorn requests #humphrey stardust #charles brandon #ellethespaceunicorn prompt fill #sebastian stan #nick fowler #steve rogers #ransom drysdale

[georgiapeach30513]

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

We’re back with some more smutty, kinky, and dark fun for the month of October.  These one shots are not from any existing AU.  These will get very dark so read ALL warnings before hand.  My blog is an 18+ ONLY space.  All minors and hate will be blocked.  This is fiction, have fun.  This year I’m introducing a few more characters instead of just Chris and Sebastian characters...

Ablutophilia with Chris Beck Breath Play with Ari Levinson Candaulism with Nick Vaughan Dacryphilia with Mike Weiss Ejaculating Toy with Chase Collins Forced Voyeurism with Nick Fowler Grooming with Napoleon Solo Hate Sex with Ransom Drysdale Innocence Kink with Frank Adler Jealousy with William ‘Ironhead’ Miller Key Party with Andy Barber Lactation Kink with Jake Jensen Mutual Masturbation with Mickey Henry Non-Con with Jax Teller Objectification with Lance Tucker  Possessive Behavior with Angel Reyes Quirt with Steve Kemp Ravishment Fantasy with Jefferson Somnophilia with Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes Tea Bagging with Dean Winchester & Soldier Boy Uteromania with Justin Capshaw Vampire Gloves with Sam Winchester Water Play with Captain Syverson  Xenophilia with Tyler Rake Yandere with August Walker Zipper Dinner with Lloyd Hansen Electrostimulation with Mr. Freezy Harpaxophilia with Curtis Everett Housewife Kink with Clark Kent Kidnapping with Walter Marshall Coercion with Carter Baizen & Bryce Langley

#kinktober 2022 #kinktober #dark!fic #smutty fanfiction #chris beck #mike weiss #nick vaughan #ari levinson #chase collins #nick fowler #napoleon solo #ransom drysdale #frank adler #william miller #andy barber #jake jensen #mickey henry #jax teller #lance tucker #angel reyes #steve kemp #jefferson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #dean winchester #soldier boy #justin capshaw #sam winchester #captain syverson #tyler rake

[lhenrycavil]

Today is your first day working as his assistant, he can't keep his eyes off you. 😮‍💨🩵

#henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #august walker #napoleon solo

[drmaddict]

Gray Hair

Summery: Napoleon reveals his biggest fear

Trigger warning: mention of Alzheimer's

English is not my first language so be gentle.

(gif is not mine)

Napoleon Solo is a man who paid insane attention to his appearance. He paid meticulous attention to his clothes, his hair, his shoes, the watch he wore. His hair knew its place. None would just jump out of place for no apparent reason.

His skin was well-groomed. His face always shaved.

He didn't overeat, never drank too much, and trained his body with an iron conviction to mold it to the image he deemed appropriate. Every morning without fail before the rest of the world even got out of bed.

Napoleon was a man who knew how he affected others and how to act to change that effect. He was a born manipulator. So it wasn't unusual for him to take longer in the bathroom than I did. But today it went too far even by his standards.

I sat on the bed, bored, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. I was used to waiting. Napoleon took his missions more seriously than I would have thought possible at the beginning of our partnership. He proved me wrong. He let me into his world, into his heart. Which led to me to also opening the little locked door to my heart for him.

I had learned over time to love and respect this man. With all his quirks, but even I had my limits.

Annoyed, I stood up and walked to the bathroom door. "Napoleon?", I knocked at the door.

No response. "I know you take your appearance very seriously, but you've been in there for over an hour now. What are you doing?"

"Just... Just 5 more minutes... I'll be right there," I heard the frantic reply before a muffled clink sounded. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

He was stuttering. He never stuttered. Even when a gun was held to his head, he still had a casual line on his lips. The clink. With him, every move was spot on. He wasn't the best pickpocket in the world for nothing.

"Are you sure about this? You sound kind of... confused? Should I tell Illya and Gaby? Should we cancel the mission?"

"NO!.. No. I... I'll have it in a minute."

But after five minutes, still nothing was happening, so I grabbed the hairpin from my hairstyle, which was purely for decorative purposes, and stuck the deliberately sharpened end into the door until I heard a soft click. I pushed the door open just as quietly. What I saw was definitely not what I expected.

Napoleon clung to the sink and looked in the mirror in panic.

"Napoleon?", I asked timidly.

His head shot around to me and big eyes start at me. His right hand shot up and abruptly rested on the right side of his head, where it covered his hair.

I drew my eyebrows together in irritation. "Napoleon what's wrong? Talk to me!" I walked toward him. He stalked away from me until he bumped into the toilet behind him and sat down surrenderd on the lid. His hand still pressed to his head. I squatted in front of him and gently tried to dislodge his hand from his head. He refused at first. Did not look me in the eye. I pulled on it jerkily and I had a clear view of the covered area underneath.

My face reflected more confusion. No wound. His hair laying as it always did.

I looked irritated at his face, but he just had his eyes squeezed shut and his face turned away from me.

"Napoleon you have to talk to me. What's wrong? I don't understand? Are you hurt? What? Napoleon are you crying?"

I gently turned his face toward me and wiped away the tears.

"Napoleon what-"

"How can you not see it?" he snapped.

"See what?"

He looked at me out of wet, hysterical eyes. "The hair!" he said, as if that explained everything.

I glanced at his strands of hair. At the part he had been so panicked to cover. There it was. A delicate silver shining hair in a sea of black. THAT was the reason for this reaction?

"Leon.", I sighed. "That's just..." I stroked his cheek with my thumb. "Honey I know you... You know you're only human. An outstanding, talented, insanely good looking humanbeing, but still just a humanbeing. That's perfectly normal."

He shook his head. "I need more time. I... This can't be happening already. I still have so much to do. I still have so much to show you. I need... I need more time." He clung to my wrist hysterically. He was completely out of it. I reached for the mic on my garter and turned it on. "Illya Gaby? We can't go with you... I sprained my ankle. You'll have to go on your own."

"Understood." came the short and practical reply from Illya.

Napoleon was still in his own world. "Honey you... you're not going to die tomorrow. It's just a gray hair."

He shook his head. "I'm going to forget everything. I'm going to forget you. The paintings. Me. That's... That's how it starts. First comes the gray hair

and then..." he shook his head to stop himself.

I reached for his face again. "Look at me. Napoleon come on. Look at me. Good. Now breathe with me. In and out. In and out. Good... Good."

He was slow to calm down, but it worked. "Now, I need you to tell me what's going on."

He took a deep breath. "My father...he was the smartest man I knew. He... hell he was a janitor, but always the smartest man in the room. He was one step ahead of everybody. Until the gray hair came. Until he forgot who I was. Who he was. He was in a wrong time. He didn't know what world he was in anymore. Age took away everything he was."

I looked at our clasped hands. "Alzheimer's?", I asked. He nodded.

I stroked the top of his head. "Gray hair doesn't make you old. I know a girl who went gray at twenty-two." He rested his head against my shoulder and I continued to stroke his strands of hair. "Not every person who gets old has Alzheimer's. I can't promise you it won't affect either of us, but you have more than enough time before that could even be an issue. Leon. You still have time. For the world. Your paintings. Me."

He was silent. "If you find out, you'll have to take me away." He lifted his head and looked me straight in the eye. "I don't want anyone to see me like this. Not even you. If it starts and you notice, you'll take me away under a fake name and leave me behind. I want people to know me as a man. Not...not as a decay."

I was literally struck by his fear, but nodded bravely.

He dropped his head back against my shoulder. "What am I going to do now? I'm supossed to be the young bachelor out there. I can't have gray hair."

"I'll just get hair dye. You're in luck as usual my good man. Black is an easy color."

I scratched the back of his neck. He put an arm around me and pulled me closer. He smelled my scent. "I love you. I can't imagine ever forgetting that."

#napoleon solo #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #napoleon solo x reader #napoleon solo x oc #napoleon solo fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction

[witchersmistress]

Snooping and Library Sex 2.0

Hello my Darlings! Im in decisive af so i have here another version of Snooping, i changed the characters around and added some details but its basically the same.

Trigger Warnings: rough sex, orgasm denial, destruction of books, back sassying

Word count: 4K

as usual my darlings, you do not have my permission to copy, translate or use my work in anyway. if you do i will haunt you for the rest of your days k?

I can feel the angry energy roiling under my skin after my encounter with Napoleon, all the sated, relaxed feeling from the self induced orgasms is nothing but a distant memory already. I’m on edge and pissed off, and I hate it.

It’s like the ground is shifting out from beneath me, like I can’t find solid footing anywhere, and that unbalanced sensation makes me want to lash out. It would make the most sense to go up to my room and hide out until I feel better, but for some reason, I don’t want to do that. Being idle sounds shitty, so after depositing my shit upstairs, I stalk around the house instead, feeling defiant. So far, I haven’t poked around their space too much. I go from the room they gave me to the kitchen and sometimes to the living room, but not really beyond that. Now I don’t stop myself from doing what I want, striding from room to room as if the whole house is my personal domain.

 I yank open a door down a corridor off the main entryway and find a well-kept baby grand piano inside. I roll my eyes at the fucking luxury these assholes clearly live in and look the instrument over. One of them must play. Even though they have so much nice shit, it would be stupid to have a whole-ass piano in here if it didn’t get used. Which one is it, I wonder? Staring at it doesn’t yield any answers, so I march back out, closing the door behind me. Another couple of doors just lead to closets, and I bypass them, not caring enough to rifle through coats and boxes and shit. But the next door I try reveals a small library. That’s the only good word for the room full of books. There are shelves lining three of the walls, and an armchair with a small end table beside it tucked into a corner. It looks like the kind of place that gets a lot of use, which is surprising as hell since none of the guys seem like the intellectual types. Just the thought of Napoleon or Syverson sitting in that chair with a cup of tea and a thick book is almost enough to make me laugh. It’s a toss-up with Napoleon, and August could go either way too. There’s a set of encyclopedias on one of the shelves, and I roll my eyes because apparently we’re back in the dark ages or some shit.

 I move on from those and find a stretch of classic books. The titles stand out in gold on the spines, things like The Works of Edgar Allan Poe, The Prince, The Odyssey, and The Iliad. Books like they make you read in high school, full of shit you’ll never care about again. I take a couple off the shelves and check them out, running my hands over the smooth leather of the covers and the embossed letters of the titles. I flip through one, The Odyssey, and am surprised to see little notes in the margins. Whole passages have been underlined, and the handwriting is cramped off to the side, but I can just make some of it out. I don’t know anything about books, but reading the stuff in the margins feels like getting a peek into someone’s soul. Whoever wrote these notes had a soul full of rage and pain, and they were connected with the pain felt by the characters in the books. Each book I pull off the shelf to look through is like that, with little notes off to the side and underlined parts. Some words are circled, others crossed out. It’s like whoever did it dedicated themselves to reading each book and finding the parts that either pissed them off or resonated with them the most. I’m putting a few of them back and reaching for another one when someone steps into the room. “What the fuck are you doing?” a deep voice intones behind me. August. And he’s pissed. As usual. I turn around to look at him, and something in the way his face looks so guarded and angry makes me pretty damn sure these books are his. I’m still on edge, feeling exposed from what happened with Napoleon. I hate that 2these men have gotten under my skin. That was never supposed to be part of the plan. I was just supposed to fuck with them, not let them fuck with me back. “Just exploring,” I tell him, shrugging. “Seeing what there is to see in here. Found these books.” “You shouldn’t go poking around in other people’s shit,” he snaps, his broad frame looming in the doorway. I shrug. “It was all just here, so I figured, why not? They’re yours, aren’t they? Or at least, you’re the one who wrote these things in them.” His jade eyes flash with irritation, and I know I’m right. He wouldn’t care so much if they weren’t his and he wasn’t the one who’d gone through all the trouble to make these notes. “So what’s all this about, then?” I ask, flipping open one of the books to a random page. It’s got so many notes on it I can barely make them all out, and I lift an eyebrow. “There’s some heavy stuff in here. One of the characters is talking about… I don’t even know what. The suffering they’re going through. And then you wrote a whole tiny little paragraph about how they don’t even know what true suffering is.” “Stop it,” he grits out, a warning in each syllable. I don’t stop, though. Because this feels good. More addictive than any drug. I want to poke at him, want to get under his skin the way they’ve all gotten under mine. “This part right here about the ‘darkness that you can’t escape’ is pretty poetic,” I say with a little smirk. “Maybe you’re in the wrong business. You should stop abducting women from alleys and take up writing full time.

 It seems like you’d have a lot to pull from for inspiration, judging from what you wrote here.” That seems to be the last straw. August moves forward, marching up to me and yanking the book out of my hand. He crowds into my space, pressing me up against the shelf until the wooden ridges of it dig into my back. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he hisses. “So you should shut your mouth.” He’s so close, but I don’t back down. “Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I want to know more. Maybe I want to figure out what makes you work, August. How you ended up the way you are.” “That wasn’t the deal,” he snaps. “Fuck the deal,” I reply. “I’m guessing you used to live in that shithole apartment building you took me to.” “What?” “I’m not an idiot. You knew it way too well for it to be somewhere new to you, or somewhere you only go when you need information. Plus, Meredith talked to you like she cared. That shit takes time. what's up with that?”

“None of your fucking business.” I can feel the rage pouring off him, but I don’t back down. He’s not going to hurt me—that wouldn’t be in his best interests, considering he needs me alive to kill Ivan—and if he did try to, I could just hurt him back. So all he can really do is stand there while I push his buttons, getting more and more pissed off with no real outlet for it. It feels good to be on the instigating end, finally, to be the one doing the pushing instead of getting pushed. And I keep riding the waves of that, leaning into August and not letting him get away with his non-answers. “What was it like?” I press. “Living there? How old were you? Young?” “Shut up.” His expression closes down some, fury blurring out any other emotion. He’s uncomfortable, but relying on anger to get through it is a tried-and-true method. I know that well myself. “Why don’t you want to talk about it? You took me there, so it’s not like I don’t know.” “That was for a purpose,” he spits. “Not for you to go digging around in my life.” “Oh, it sucks when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?” I shoot back. “Maybe I don’t want to let you off the hook that easily.” “Maybe I don’t give a fuck what you want.” “Well, that’s obvious. If you did, I wouldn’t be here. You’re holding me hostage in your fucking house, and you won’t even give me anything entertaining to keep myself occupied. Tell me why these books.” “I’m not telling you anything!” The words rip out of him, and there’s pure rage behind them. His eyes are snapping with it, and he’s practically growling at me. “Just a little hint?” I ask, putting on a pleading face. “Small one? Were you some kind of nerd in school? You don’t seem like the type.” Before I can get out another taunt, he grabs my upper arms in a tight grip. I can feel the strength and anger in the press of his fingers, and I know I’ll have marks there later. I half expect him to shove me forcibly out of the room, but instead, he drops his head and crushes his mouth to mine, kissing me hard enough to bruise.

August kisses me hard, biting down on my lower lip and dragging it into his mouth to suck on it before releasing it with a loud pop. A little noise of frustrated pleasure spills from my mouth, and I grab his shirt, hauling him back in for more. He doesn’t resist, devouring my mouth with his, hot and slick and messy. It’s the same thing I did with Napoleon earlier, kissing him to get him to shut up and stop saying shit I didn’t want to hear. I know that’s what he’s doing right now. But somehow, I don’t care. His hands roam over my shoulders and down my arms, finding their way around to fit in between my back and the bookshelf I’m still pressed against. He manages to grab twin handfuls of my ass, groping me hard, and I moan into his mouth all over again. I can’t control my reaction to it, and I don’t even try that hard, really. It’s all happening too fast. All the anger and hate between us is coming out as this hot, intense sexual desire, and I feel like it would burn me up if I tried to ignore it. I can feel how hard August is as he presses forward, grinding into me. I press back against him, rubbing against the hardness of his body. With a little growl of desire, his mouth moves from mine down to my jaw, leaving biting, open-mouthed kisses as he blazes a trail to my neck.

 I gasp when he bites at just the right spot, arching against him and tipping my head back. That seems to give him an idea, and one hand releases my ass to fist in my hair, yanking it enough to one side that he has complete access to my neck. His mouth is hot and wet, and it feels like it’s everywhere as he kisses me, my body responding eagerly to his touch no matter what my mind might think about him. My nipples go hard and tight, and my pussy throbs with need. It still feels too empty from when Napoleon rejected me, and it’s almost like it can sense that there’s a chance to fix that right now. “Fuck,” I groan, pulling against August’s hold on my hair just to feel the sharp pain that comes from the resistance. He doesn’t say anything, releasing my hair after a moment and letting the silvery strands fall over my shoulders as his hands start roaming again. They find my nipples, and he pinches and tweaks them through my shirt at first before sliding his hands under the fabric and shoving my bra out of the way. His mouth trails down lower, and he presses those hot, feverish kisses along the skin of my chest and my tits, tugging down the neckline of my shirt until he finds one nipple and takes it between his teeth, biting down and none too gently.

 I cry out at the sharp sting of it, squirming against the shelves while he practically feasts on my tits, leaving even more biting kisses in his wake. Pinned in place, it’s all I can do to stay upright against the shelves, letting him run his mouth over my skin and my nipples. My pussy is wet again, so desperate to be touched or filled or something, and I grind even harder against him, searching for the friction to take the edge off. August finally looks up again, and his jade green eyes are dark now. There’s still anger there, but it’s being crowded out by the raw lust emanating from him. It’s a damn good look on him, and I reach up to grab ahold of the back of his neck, pulling him down so I can kiss him again. He grunts out something that might be a curse or might be my name, but I swallow the sound either way, shoving my tongue into his mouth and almost daring him to keep up with me. And he does. He kisses back with equal intensity, matching my pace until we’re both breathless. I’m the first one to pull back, needing to catch my breath while my head spins. August takes advantage of the moment and rips my shirt over my head, exposing my bare chest to the air of the room. He yanks my bra off, and I half expect him to go back to my tits, but instead, his hands go down lower, undoing the button and zipper on my jeans so he can drag them down. August’s already dark eyes turn almost black as he stares down at me. 

Without saying a thing, he drops to his knees in front of me and takes those kisses down to my pussy. He sucks and licks at it like it’s the best thing he’s tasted all year, his tongue working itself along my folds and circling my hole with precision. I can’t help the way I shiver at how it feels, the heat and pleasure of it shooting through me. I still feel sensitive from Napoleon making me fall apart so many times less than an hour ago, and August’s mouth on me feels amplified, as if every sensation is turned up to eleven. He’s messy with it, eating me out and making his face and my thighs slick with my arousal. I look down at him while he drags his tongue over me, breathing hard and still feeling spiteful. “You’re lapping up Napoleon’s cum, you know,” I taunt breathlessly. That’s enough to get him to jerk back, but he doesn’t seem disgusted or squeamish about it. Instead, his eyes are dark with anger again, and his face twists into a mask of fury. “You fucked Napoleon?” he demands. I can’t tell if he’s mad about me fucking Napoleon in general or me fucking Napoleon instead of him. I could easily lie and say that yeah, we fucked, but it bothers me for some reason that the answer is no. I was right there, mostly naked and still a mess from the rolling orgasms Napoleon gave me, and he didn’t want to finish what he fucking started. It sits sourly in my belly, the sting of rejection still present and irritating. So I refuse to answer August, just raising an eyebrow and shrugging one shoulder. Let him think whatever he wants about that.

 He narrows his eyes, a hard look coming over his face. Then he slaps my pussy hard with one hand. I jerk and moan in surprise, taken aback by the sudden harshness. When he does it again, harder, a flash of pain bursts through me before my clit starts to throb with need. “Fuck.” It’s basically the only thing I can think to say to express that it felt fucking good, but August doesn’t seem to need more than that. He dives back in, hands gripping my hips hard while he licks me with even more vicious determination than before. Even with the knowledge that he’s licking the remnants of Napoleon’s cum out of me, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t seem like he’s put off at all. It’s more like he wants to lick me clean or something, to overtake what Napoleon did to me and wipe it out of my memory.

And he’s fucking good at it, too. I don’t know where August falls on the spectrum of Syverson to Napoleon in terms of how often he likes to fuck, but he knows what he’s doing. His tongue curls along my clit, teasing it and working me up. I thread my fingers into his hair, holding on tight and rolling my hips as the sensation builds and builds and builds. I can feel my orgasm rising, threatening to overtake me. And then, when I’m right there on the edge, about to tip over into a fucking amazing orgasm, August stops and pulls back. “What the shit?” I gasp out, sounding hoarse and breathless. “I was close.” He doesn’t say anything, just gets up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. My legs are shaky, and I’m ready to be pissed off as hell if he thinks he’s going to walk away without getting me off after all that. But then he grabs me again and turns me around so I’m facing the bookshelves. He grabs my hands and braces them against the wood, moving me where he wants me. I should be pissed off. I am pissed off. But that’s not the only reason my heart is racing. He grabs my pants where they’re pooled around my ankles and pulls them up just enough that they wedge my thighs together, keeping my legs tightly closed so I can’t open them. Just how he wants me. I’m about to turn around and tell him to get the fuck on with it, when he drives into me hard enough to leave me breathless. Like this, with my legs pressed together, I’m even tighter than usual, and it’s like I can feel him everywhere, pressing against my walls, filling me up.

 August isn’t gentle with it either. He grabs my hips hard, fingers digging into my flesh as he fucks me even harder. His cock drives into me with punishing force, the sound of our skin slapping together ringing out in the room. I don’t bother to hold back my sounds of pleasure. I probably couldn’t even if I wanted to. Not with the way he’s fucking me hard and dirty, making sure that each thrust sends the whole length of his cock slamming into me, hitting that spot inside me that makes me cry out almost every time. Heat and electric sensation curl through me, radiating out from my center to spread into my whole body. I was already on edge before, from his mouth on me, and this is just another step closer to throwing me into an orgasm headfirst. I move my hand, ready to rub at my clit until I come from it all, but August growls behind me. He grabs my wrist and puts my hand back where it was, holding it down with almost bruising force. “No,” he pants. “You don’t get to touch yourself.” It flashes through my mind to tell him where he can shove his bossy bullshit, but then he slams into me so hard that it’s all I can do to stay upright. My heart is pounding almost as forcefully as the way he’s fucking me, bashing against my ribs and making it hard to catch a full breath. Books fall from the shelves around us as my tight grip on the bookshelf makes the whole thing shake. My back is arched, my eyes half closed. My whole body is on fire. I’m so close, right there on the edge, ready to tip over into that well of pleasure that’s been building steadily, but August doesn’t let me. He doesn’t give me that last little push I need. Instead, he starts fucking me more shallowly, letting his cock dip in and out of my pussy without driving all the way in. A noise of helpless frustration spills out of my mouth, and I ball my hands into fists against the wood of the shelf. August doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even taunt me for being needy and desperate. He just keeps his hips moving, turning those shallow thrusts into long, slow ones that still don’t give me all that I need. He’s holding out for as long as he can, clearly, and it’s driving me fucking insane. I thrust my hips back, trying to take him to the hilt, trying to get more, and he just makes a low noise and digs his fingers in harder. 

Maybe it’s a warning, maybe it’s a reaction. I don’t know and I don’t fucking care. All I know is that if I don’t come, I’m going to go insane. My core throbs, spasming around his dick like it’s desperate to milk it dry once I’m allowed to come, and I whine low in my throat, feeling all that sensation keep building like it’s going to snap. Finally, he seems to be at the end of his tether. I can feel his hips stuttering, the stamina he’s been using to drive me nuts finally giving out. He reaches around and down and pinches my clit hard. The pain and stimulation are enough to set me off like a bomb, and I nearly scream, getting a hand up over my mouth in time to muffle it as I explode in pleasure. I can barely breathe, barely keep my body from shaking itself apart as I come, gushing on his cock and squeezing it hard. August follows me over the edge, letting out a low groan as he pumps me full of his release. I’m breathless, slumped against the shelves, trying to remember how to move or do anything. My body is still trembling from the force of my pleasure, and I nearly stagger when August pulls out and steps back. By the time I can turn around to look at him, he’s pulling his pants up and tucking his cock away. Even though I’m positive he was just as into that as I was, he looks more put together, since he’s dressed and not oozing cum the way I am. “Clean up the fucking books,” he says, back to that angry, flat tone. Then he turns and walks out, leaving me there with the mess. Whatever bliss I was feeling a second ago evaporates instantly on the heels of my anger, and I’m pissed off all over again. Not about fucking him, but about the fact that it feels like he’s won something. Like he’s the one who came out ahead and has the higher ground now, even though I’m the one who instigated the confrontation.

 He walked out like he was fine and nothing had changed, but I’m the one slumped against a shelf like I’ve lost my equilibrium. August definitely had the upper hand while we were fucking. I needed him at that moment, and I hate that more than anything. He practically had me begging, poised on the edge of an orgasm I could only get from him, and he knew it. “Fucking asshole,” I spit, even though there’s no one there to hear it. I don’t need anybody. Least of all August. Or any of these fucking guys. “I’ll pick up your stupid books,” I mutter under my breath. I gather up the ones that fell off the shelves and make sure to smear his cum on the pages before slapping them shut and putting them away. The pages will get stuck together, and it’ll serve him fucking right.

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