#abbe de coulmier x reader

[five-miles-over]

Joaquin Phoenix Characters Masterlist

updated 08 November 2023

Multiple Character Headcanons and Listicles

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters as University Students

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters as Cupcakes

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters - Sleepover Headcanons

• If Joaquin Phoenix Characters Went on Dates

• Joaquin Phoenix Characters as Comfort Foods

• Holiday Gift Ideas for Joaquin Phoenix Characters

• Commodus, Abbé, and Joe as Parents 

Abbé de Coulmier from Quills

• The World’s a Broken Bone: The Abbé comforts the reader - a nurse at Charenton - when they have a severe migraine.

• Let Me Save You: A crossover with Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

• The Ballad of Mona Lisa: The reader confesses to the Abbé about fantasies that they have been experiencing lately. (Smut)

• Abbé de Coulmier x Light Academia (aesthetic board)

Arthur Fleck from Joker

• Yandere Arthur Fleck Headcanons

• Arthur Fleck and Joker Jealousy Headcanons

• NSFW Headcanons

• Yandere!Arthur and Yandere!Joker Dealing With Rejection in Public

• Joker and Cruella de Ville Crossover Headcanons

• Arthur Fleck x 50s Retrocore

Bruno Weiss from The Immigrant

• Bruno Weiss x Roaring 20s (Aesthetic Board)

Clay Bidwell from Clay Pigeons

• Misery Loves Company: Clay meets the reader at a bar and the two of them have a much-needed break from their troubles.

• Hey Good Lookin’: Clay loves it when his girlfriend sits on his lap and asks him for a kiss (fluff)

Emperor Commodus from Gladiator

• Imagine Teaching Commodus to Slow Dance

• The Courtesan: The reader is a dancer that catches the eye of Emperor Commodus at a party

• ‘Till I Hear You Sing: A song-based fic based on “Til I Hear You Sing” from Love Never Dies

• What I Did For Love: Continuation from ‘Til I Hear You Sing’. A song-fic based on “What I Did for Love” from A Chorus Line

• New Girl: A high school AU of the movie Gladiator. The reader has recently moved to Rome and is now a new student at the Roman Educational Institute

• Paparazzi (Hollywood!Commodus x Reader): Another Gladiator AU in which the reader has a chance encounter in Rome with Commodus, a world-famous actor hounded by paparazzi.

• All Love Can Be: Prince Commodus meets the reader through their fathers working together, and eventually decides to ask for her hand.

• Handsome: The reader gets a little drunk while spending time with Commodus, and turns a bit childish and dorky.

• The Festivals of Saturn: Commodus’s first Saturnalia as a young sixteen-year-old co-emperor.

• Lay All Your Love on Me: Commodus falls unconditionally and irrevocably in love with a confident young woman along the seashores of Lanuvium

• Lose Me In the Sight of You: All you wished for was the blessing of Lady Juno that you would find a good husband, yet little did you know that a certain Emperor has grown passionately and hopelessly obsessed with you. (TW: Yandere)

• Emperor Commodus x Vampire Aesthetic

• Commodus’s Outfits as Chocolates

• Similarities Between Chuck Bass from “Gossip Girl” and Commodus from “Gladiator”

SERIES: ALONE WITH YOU INSIDE MY MIND (COMMODUS X READER) - ON HIATUS

The young prince (and soon to be Emperor of Rome) Commodus falls in love with you, the daughter of a nobleman, and nothing will stand in the way of his obsession.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

SERIES: AFTERMATH (COMMODUS X OC) - ON HIATUS

A sequel to the events of the film Gladiator, in which Emperor Commodus survives the duel with Maximus

• Chapter 1: The Impossible Dream

• Chapter 2: Proud of Your Boy

• Chapter 3: The Point of No Return

• Chapter 4: Look Down

• Chapter 5: Beneath a Moonless Sky

• Chapter 6: These Palace Walls

• Chapter 7: Wait For It

• Chapter 8: Something There

• Chapter 9: Be Prepared

• Chapter 10: Twisted Every Way

• Chapter 11: All I Ask of You 

• Chapter 12: History Has Its Eyes on You

Max California from 8 MM

• Max California x Dark Academia

• Max California Proposing to You (Headcanons)

Ray Elwood from Buffalo Soldiers

• Ray Elwood Taking You Out on a Date Would Include...

Willie Gutierrez from The Yards

• Blackout: The reader is Willie Gutierrez’s new neighbor, and the two of them accidentally meet during a power outage

• The Light Blinking at the End of the Tunnel: The reader offers some much-needed comfort to Willie after finding out about his dark past.

[darknessisafriend]

I was wondering if you could write one with Joaquin's characters about how would they react to getting neck smooches from their S/O I hope you are well in these crazy times 💓

It's finally here! I finally got time to write! I hope you will enjoy anon, @galos-writing helped me a bit with Abbe ;)

Commodus:

Commodus is always a man on his guard. So, naturally his neck wouldn’t be an easy part to reach, even for his lover. 

The truth is also that his neck is very sensitive. Commodus is secretly very ticklish, and his sister and mother used to tickle his neck as they played together before bed. No one had been touching his neck in years. 

The first time you tried to, you joined Commodus in his study. He was working late at night as usual, but you missed him dearly lately. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his cheek first. “My love…it is getting late...” you whispered, hoping it was obvious you needed him to warm your bed up and cool your body down. 

“I have important work to do, Y/N. I have to stay a little longer.” He replied, his eyes focused on whatever he was scribbling. As always, he would work so hard, from early in the morning to late at night, more than anyone else. Thankfully you were there to make sure he would take a break and not kill himself at the service of his People. 

You pouted at first at his answer and then grinned, leaning closer to his ear “His Highness won’t regret it...” you purred in his ear, nibbling his ear lobe, kissing his jaw and then daring a plant a kiss in his neck, right on his calmly pulsing jugular.

He froze at first, not expecting a kiss there, used to a feeling of coldness due to his armor. Your lips felt soft and warm, the opposite of a cold and hard blade he could have expected.

His skin had goosebumps and he looked down, pondering how to react, if he should let down his defense like he did so many times with you before. He made his quill lightly roll between his thumb and index as he thought. The kiss had been surprising, and yet it felt nice but too quick. “Y/N, can you do that again?” he quietly asked. 

You smiled in relief, you had been holding your breath the whole time, fearing it might have triggered him badly. Surprisingly it didn’t, probably because he had a lot more trust in you than he would think. 

This time, you would place your kiss slowly, your lips tracing kisses along his jugular where you felt his pulse had increased frantically, his skin warm and soft, with a strong scent of cinnamon myrrh, his favorite and prestigious perfume. It was intoxicating, just like the rest of his being. 

This time you would feel him relax under your kisses, his eyes almost closing entirely, his quill escaping his fingers that had become weak. His posture would remain high and yet his neck tilted to give you more space as one of your hands caressed his strong chest. “If my Emperor is willing to join our bed…I shall give him plenty of those...” 

“How dare you try to imp….” But Commodus wouldn’t manage to finish his sentence that a moan escaped his lips as you sucked his skin on a particularly sensitive spot. “Run…if I catch you before you get in bed, I will be the one ravaging your body.” He said, making you giggle, he knew you were fast, and he wouldn’t manage to catch you. What he wouldn’t do to make it seem like he had control while he entirely gave it up willingly the moment he fell for you.

Arthur/Joker:

Arthur adores your neck smooches, he is ticklish too but loves it anyway, probably due to his childish spirit.

You had first tried during a tickle battle actually, both of you laughing as you threw pillows at each other and tickled each other. You ended up straddling Arthur beneath you (or rather he loved to let you win). You blocked his arms and placed your lips in his neck to tickle him, something your mom used to do. 

Arthur would let out a squeal, a loud and boyish noise before laughing heartily, a happy laugh. He was fully relaxed, and he had discovered something new about himself. You would lift your head and smile at him, giving him a tender kiss on the lips. 

“Can I try?” he would ask eagerly, his eyes shining with fondness, his fingers delicately caressing your fingers. “Of course. But on one condition…I won’t go easy on you.” You teased him, challenging him to another play of pillow. And slowly a grin would form on his face, a confident one, that you knew from Joker “Don’t complain what comes afterwards darling.” He would purr. 

One thing you had noticed is that Joker had much more raw strength than Arthur, the madness sometimes gave inhuman strength. And you would be able to resist for long, Joker would be quick, naughty and sly; managing to win rapidly. You would gasp as he sent a last pillow hit that was a little too strong, making you lose your balance to fall off the bed.

But thankfully he would catch you in his arms, throwing his body first so he would take the hit and not you. He would laugh with a big smile, not reacting at all under the pain. “Told you I’d win.” He would say, already filling your neck in kisses, making you squirm as you started to giggle. 

His hand would instantly start to roam your body, Joker was more sexual than Arthur and winning you over a battle was even more exciting to his eyes. Even as he would make love to you afterwards, he would keep on filling your neck in kisses, making you laugh in that moment of intimacy. Arthur was still in there after all.

Bruno Weiss:

Bruno is a grumpy man and he doesn’t like to show himself vulnerable, only when drunk or very tired he does truly reveal himself.

His attitude does change after a while, once the trust builds up.

The first time you did it, was to tease him. He was annoyed by paperwork, keeping on muttering to himself while smoking his cigarette. “Is paying taxes such a headache?” you would ask in a chuckle, making him crush his cigarette in the ashtray. “I’m not working hard to have our money taken away from us.” he would mutter.

“Y/N” he would protest as you sat on his lap. The thing was that he was very weak for you and when you were so close to him, he wouldn’t be able to focus, and he would hate his inability to do so. 

You would grin, you just had to do one thing for him to snap. “You just have to pay darling, or should I do it?” you retorted and quickly smooched his neck before running off, chased by an angry Bruno who would soon calm down under your sweet caresses. 

After this episode, a kiss on the neck would become a soothing gesture for Bruno, one more reminder that he didn’t have to keep his defenses in front of you, that he could be vulnerable. It would be a reminder you would always be there, that you wouldn’t abandon him like everyone else did.

Charlie:

The first time you kissed Charlie in the neck, it didn’t go well, he had the worst reaction you could have expected from him.

You were sitting by the fire with a few companions and his brother. In a moment  of tenderness you would have sat behind him to hug him, placing a kiss on his cheek then neck. However, would quickly tense up, ignoring the soft smile of his brother at the scene. “What the fuck are you doing!?” Charlie would exclaim, instantly leaving your embrace “I’m not some kind of fag!” he would storm angrily to smoke a cigarette. Everyone would turn their eyes away from you in embarrassment except Ellie, patting your shoulder reassuringly “You know he didn’t mean it.”

And indeed, despite hurting, you knew Charlie was keeping a rough mask in front of everybody and you had brushed it off without thinking.

You would leave him alone for some time to process his gesture. He would be silent, feeling awkward after his outburst, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

“I’m sorry Charlie. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad” you would apologize sincerely. You knew he had a rough past and he was the little brother always acting tough to protect the ones he loved, it had cost him half of his sanity. 

“I don’t trust everyone here. I don’t want them to think…” he sighed, throwing his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with the heel of his boot.

You would approach him, wanting to hug him from behind but as you reached out your hand you wouldn’t dare to touch him.

I know. You don’t have to explain yourself. I won’t do it again.” you would offer softly, doing your best to accommodate your struggling lover.

“What are they doing? Are they looking?” he would ask after a moment of silence. You would look back “No, they went to sleep. Ellie is kissing his…scarf.” you replied, an intimate gesture his brother didn’t fear to show.

“Can you do it again?” he would ask in a mutter, you would hear his voice on the edge like a great effort he would make to let down his barriers and he would not repeat himself, fearing.

Joe:

The neck would be a triggering part for Joe, always has been as a soldier. This was part he would have to protect often during the war. But you wouldn’t be aware of this specific trigger point. 

One day, as he would be reading, you wouldn’t pay attention and would come to hug him from behind, you were light footed so he tensed up at first. But when it instantly followed with a kiss on the neck, something cool applying to his skin, triggered a past trauma. 

He would gasp and under the flash push you away strongly, making you fall heavily on the ground, pretty much hitting your head at the same time. “Joe what…” you would manage to say, blinking a few times the stars in your eyes. You would find him curled up in a corner, his arms wrapped around his head and neck as an attempt to protect himself.

Your eyes would widen at the sight, understanding he had been severely triggered. In fact, you now remembered reading some articles about it, how strangling and throat slitting was attempted on some factions of soldiers by the enemy and it was surely what had triggered him.

“Joe it’s me. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you.” you would apologize on the verge of tears from the state he was in.

After that it would take a while for him to calm down, he would be closed into silence, feeling guilty of his own reactions to a simple kiss. But you would work things out as always, taking baby steps in trying to eliminate that trigger, his service dog helping as well, nuzzling his truffle in his neck while cuddling.

You would make sure to eliminate the effect of surprise during that gesture, coming to stand in front of him, caressing his chest and slowly tying your arms around his neck, asking for permission to kiss his neck. And it would work out well after many months of trial. You wouldn’t do it much tho cause you didn’t want to push this too fast, besides you loved kissing his lips, chest and arms much better.

With time Joe would grow to like it as well, it was much nicer to open his neck to a loving kiss rather than a cold blade. 

Max California:

- Max California loves neck kisses. He is a very physical lover so when he is with you he is rather clingly, and especially loves PDA, he is a possessive lover but not in a toxic way, he would simply be very proud of you. 

-  Very early in your relationship you would have gone onto neck kisses, at the shop as you assisted you would often lean against him hugging you from behind, placing lazy kisses from time to time as you both await clients to pick their next dirty products. Your neck was constantly filled with hickeys so the clients wouldn’t bother you. 

- However, Max himself was often subject to passion from clients and strangers, men and women desiring the dark punk boy working in a sex shop wearing a crop top. That would make you terribly annoyed and you knew an efficient way to mark your territory. Just do the same!

-  As you had gone to refill a shelf of porn magazines, you would decide to surprise him. Instead of going to insert yourself between his arms, you would hug him from behind as he chatted with a female client, filling his neck in small smooches, looking at the client in the eyes. Without surprise she would understand the message and leave promptly.

- Max would grin and turn his head to meet your eyes “Do you think she had any chance with me?” he would ask, making you blush and bite his neck in protest, making him chuckle. “But keep going, I like it.” He would add, his hand coming to caress your cheek before focusing on work again. 

-You would retain a happy squeal, muffling it against his skin before kissing it. Max wouldn’t be too sensitive on the neck so at first, he wouldn’t get aroused. He would simply be very happy of your attention, that you took the lead. He was a feminist after all so he would encourage such things in public and also loved to be under your control. 

-One day, after a weekend apart Max would even surprise you with a tattoo, red lips modeled on the lipstick you often left in his neck. He would wear a proud grin on his face. “What’d you think?” he asked, very pleased with himself and to show he was a marked territory already.

- “I think I still need to add a little bit more purple to it, you know, to make it livelier.” You grinned back, opening your arms and wrapping them around his neck as you would passionately make out.

Abbe:

As the composed and religious man of God he is, the Abbé has never experienced an intimate touch from no one. 

This has given him incredible awkwardness when he started feeling carnal desires for you besides romantic feelings, his religious trauma and brainwash made him believe he was a sinner and regret his own nature of man. Your love for him made you feel bad for his condition, so of course you tried to help him.

You already knew he would go crazy in the worst way possible if you had taken the lead without psychologically telling him, so you planned to slowly introduce him to physical affection. So you invited him for tea to ‘innocently chitchat’.

During the talk, he seemed still pretty nervous about the topic, but less than usual. It felt like a good sign for you, but you didn’t expect his next request.

The Abbé was actively avoiding your gaze as he parted his lips to speak, his cheeks turned a bright red. “Might I… dare to kiss you?” He asked in almost a whisper, making you blush and then scoff; his excessive politeness was adorable to you. You nodded, and approached, ready for a quick peck. You didn’t expect him to grab your shoulders and capture your lips for a goofy yet extremely heated kiss. 

You could hear him let out little noises already despite you weren’t touching him either. So, when the kiss was over, you smirked, licking your lips, delighted by that kiss, and leaned closer, brushing your lips against his neck. You could hear a gasp escape his lips, which lowkey turned you on. 

So you started by giving his neck a first soft kiss, noticing his chest moving up and down faster and his heartbeat louder. He swallowed down, trying to reluctantly pull back, it was obvious he was loving those kisses yet he thought it was wrong. “Y/N…”, he whimpered, letting out soft moans for every kiss you gave him. Every moan of his was one more shiver of excitement running through your spine. 

You suddenly felt your clothes being grabbed by his fists, his noises became a bit louder and his hips were starting to slightly jerk forward. Unfortunately that thick pitch black cassock was leaving no room for imagination, but you knew underneath he was fighting against a massive boner.

Suddenly, after you gently nibbled a spot on his throat, he let out a high pitched whimper, obviously choking other noises in his throat and trembling a bit, his mouth was agape. You stepped back, thinking you hurt him, but after some seconds, he was heavily painting and squeezing his legs together: he came just with your neck kisses. 

You would have lied if you said you weren’t proud of yourself. Especially after he looked at you dead in the eye and said: “There’s no turning back after this, right…?”. He seemed defeated, yet somehow relieved when you shook your head, hopeful to get further with him. Finally.

Merill

Merill is a lover of PDA and of neck kisses as well. Which means that naturally he would give them to you.

He is a protective man and possessive. In public he would especially love to stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist to place a tender kiss on your neck.

Naturally you would return the favor. Merill wouldn't be surprised or taken aback, he would let you do and even lean into your touch.

For Merill, neck smooches would represent letting himself get vulnerable willingly for the one he loves.

It was something he was proud of. Merill was known across town for his strong character, his stubbornness, and impulsivity. And many thought that he wasn’t an easy man to handle, that despite attracting many girls with his look, when they got to know him they would run away. 

It wasn’t the truth actually, ladies loved how he knew what he wanted and his passion, his love for his family. And you were the lucky one, the only one he ever allowed neck kisses from, encouraging you to mark him with hickeys, show who he belonged to. 

You would especially enjoy tickling him with your lips during a baseball match, distracting him when he was getting too agitated by the bad talent of some. It would work wonderfully, to the point he would melt in your touch, his attention drifting away more and more from the match to focus on you. During the final match you would end up making out and more in the lockers room where no one would come to find you.

Tag list: @skaravile @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @galos-writing @sparklygardenerlove

[fly-like-a-phoenix]

House of Lust (part 20)

Abbé de Coulmier x reader

Summary: Five years has passed since the events of Quills. The Abbé de Coulmier is released of prision by a misterious event. And he will know again those feelings he never thought will meet again: love... and lust.

Warnings: blood, violence, sex.

Note: Last chapter! Thank you for supporting me and this story! I hope you liked it. I don't have free time, but I wrote a little every day. At least I post it hahaha! Love this community so much and my friends @darknessisafriend @galos-writing @beatlebabe1996 @missrockabilly99 and @five-miles-over a lot!

When he was a kid, he was alaways told that people used to be bad, but he had to be good. François didn't believe it. He thought everyone was good, at least in a little part. That made him an idealist.

He decided that, if people was bad, he could bring their good side out. He didn't want to be a God or anything, but a messenger for God. He wanted to have the power, in a minimal state, to forgive people sins and make them go to Heaven, not matter what they did.

He was a fervient catholic, and he was just a child when he decided to be a priest. The Revolution didn't stop him, and he arrived to Charenton. But his parents had to run away from France, and he was now in there, in the lake.

It's not that everything was his parents fault. He couldn't blame them for what happened in Charenton five years ago. That was his own fault. All of it. Because he had many chances to stop what was going to happen, to stop the Marquis and the consecuent Madeline's death. But he couldn't.

But after recovering, because yes, he was crazy at the time his friend and lover died in those horrible ways, he had the chance to be a free and normal man again. He felt away from God, but in his heart he wanted to be closer to Him again.

He then met you. He never thought he would fall in love in such a sick and surreal environment. But he did. He loved you. And still he felt closer to God again, not as a priest, but as a man who was full of hope. Who knew God would help him, even if everything that happened the last days was bad.

The thunder that hit the three was his salvation. God gave him an opportunity, the perfect moment, to escape from that place, that House of Lust. His whole body was trembling, soared from the beatings and the way the man was raping him moments before.

But he could run. The tree branch fell over the roof and killed a few persons. In other circumstances, he was in there for helping them, for cure their injures or give them the extreme unction.

But no. Those people deserved to die, to suffer, to cry and be scared. Because they were real demons.

But François never thought he would be facing the Devil himself at that lake. He knew he faced him before all days he was in there, tortured in physic and psychological ways. He also knew he had to protect you and protect Josephine.

But he never thought Odelle was so bad, so mind-twisted, so fucked up, until she pointed the gun to them and shot. She shot not having a clear target but with the idea of killing one of the three people she considered were finishing with her beloved House of Lust: her two sisters and that fucking priest.

The bullet traveled faster to them, even with the heavy rain falling around it. The wind was also strong, but it didn't stop the bullet to arrive to it's target.

A moment, not two, and the only thing that could be heard was silence. An awful silence after the gun's noise that came when the three of them didn't understand where did the bullet go. Until Josephine fell down, grabbing her stomach.

You kneeled next to her, grabbing her between your hands, crying in despair. François looked at you both in shock, thinking that Odelle was like Cain killing her own brother. Or in this case, her own sister, the girl who helped her with this crazy idea that the House of Lust was, but had a change inside of her and wanted to do things right.

"What have you done?!" You shouted, crying, holding your dying sister, who clinged onto you like if that could save her life.

"I did what I had to." Odelle answered, loading her gun again. She was jealous of you. But she was also jealous of Josephine. Because she was a good girl after all, who decided to get away from her in the name of an unrequited love.

François didn't think about anything while he ran faster than he could imagine and jumped on her to make her fall before she could shoot again.

He never hit anyone before Odelle. Never in his life, but one time when he grabbed Doctor Roger-Collard from the neck in front of the Abbé de Maupas, scaring him.

But now, his whole mind and body reacted, and while he was in top of her as he was before, it wasn't like in the House, as the moment he was fucking her. He hit her hard, one slap with his hand in her face.

She reacted too, and they started to fight in the ground. The water was falling over them while they kept struggling, groaning and doing everything they could to beat the other.

Odelle was strong. Her naked body was cold, but her blood was like the flames of the same Hell. And she was hitting him hard, scratching him and trying to get up to pick up the gun.

François was quick, but he didn't have any idea of how to fight someone. He never did it. He just moved his hands, knowing that somehow he was stronger. But in fact, he really wasn't. He was all bruised and soared. And he had no resistence by now.

He was actually fighting for his life. And yours. By now Odelle was a mess like him, covered in mud and some blood, trying to escape from him. But something grew inside of him and he kept her in the ground, her face almost in the water, almost drawning.

"Please..." She begged. "Please... stop, Abbé..."

Those words were a trigger. He was killing her. His whole body on top of her, keeping her down while his hands kept her head in the ground, a beastfull groaning coming constantly from his troath. He was an animal. The animal he fought to leave behind in that cell in Charenton. The one who was blamed for the Marquis' death. The one he thought had died.

His green eyes were covered of tears. He looked at Odelle, and saw the way his hand was taking her from the neck, so he released her. She started to cough while he got up and looked at her, the strong rain washing his mud covered face a little.

"Let us go, and I will not kill you."

"You are not like that, Abbé, are you? Of course you are. It was real that you killed the Mar---"

"Silence!" He raised his voice, breafly looking at you still holding Josephine, who was alive. "I'm not a murderer. I'm not like you. You shot your own sister, who loved you. Live with that."

He walked to you, but two or three steps after, Odelle ran and jumped to him, embracing him in a way they both fell to the lake. The Abbé heard you screaming, and then his ears were under the water.

She was trying to drown him. He felt water entering into his lungs. He felt pain. But he didn't surrender. He fought back, trying to make her fall. Until he felt a strong noise outside, like a canon.

It wasn't a canon. It was Odelle's gun, this time against her. She fell to the water, losing her strenght suddenly. She let go François, and he got up caughing, seeing you still pointing the gun to your sister.

Odelle looked at you in awe, blood running from her mouth. She smiled briefly before falling into the lake, dying happy. In her own mind, her last thought was on you finally doing something bad: killing someone.

François got out of the lake and hugged you. You were crying, Josephine still on the ground pressing her wound. None of you said nothing. Just looked at each other and went to sit beside you dying sister.

"Did you... Did you kill Odelle?" Jodephine asked, her voice a whisper.

"I had to." You answered, sobbing. "She would have killed us all."

"At least is just me." Your sister said, taking your hand and François'. "At least you'll be together, in love."

Josephine died slowly and peacefully with your hands in her own, knowing her little sister would be fine. She loved the young man, but she understood he loved you. And that made her happy.

François was breathing with pain. He was wounded, but his heart felt worse while seeing you crying over your sister's body. He took you by the shoulders and made you got up, slowly going out of the property.

You both ran as fast as you could. But rain was heavy, and with the mud it was even difficult to walk. Suddenly you saw a carriage and François ran to it, moving his arms to catch the driver's attention. The man stopped the horse and looked at you worried, enough to let you go with him to his farm.

The morning came fast and François found himself embracing you, both lyind down into grass bales. You were sleeping with your face covered in mud and tears, inside a stable.

François felt a little guilty. Because of his arrival to the House of Lust, your sisters died, many people suffered and you were out ans away from everything you knew. But it wasn't his fault at all. He was in there because he got out of Charenton and received the letter...

The second letter! He remembered he had carried it with him all night, and he took it out of his pocket just to find it was fully erased because of the rain water and the lake.

"Shit." He said to himself, waking you up.

"What is it?" You asked, rubbing your eyes.

"When Josephine helped me while I was in the dungeon, she said my parents brought two letters with them. The first one is the one I received, that made me go to the Mansion. The second one was this."

"And what does it says?"

"I don't know. It's all erased."

You took it into your hands and looked at it slowly, with care. Then, you took his hand with emotion.

"This part is visible. Look!" You said, pointing at the final part of the expensive and still wet paper. You both read, until you did it in loud voice.

"Monsieur Aubin will give you... yours... good luck, son. Your par... love you so much..." You said, snorting. "Those missing parts are important?"

"I don't know. At least we have a name."

"Do you know him?" You asked, and he nodded.

"Robert Aubin. He was a friend of my father. Hopefully he's at home. We have to go to Paris and find him."

François got out and found the man who let you sleep in his stable working outiside. His name was Serge. He asked François if you wanted to eat something, and he agreed.

The man was old, like his wife. But they were good, hospitable and friendly, the complete opposition to the people of the House of Lust. They didn't have a bathroom, but they gave you both a tray with water to clean yourself.

The woman also gave you some clean clothes. They belonged to her and their son, who was part of Napoleon's army by now.

After thanking them the best you could, you decided to walk to Paris. It was a long way, and you arrived at sunset. François felt alive again, smiling after all. He was in Paris, a big city with a lot of people, who weren't so crazy as other he met at your home.

"You okay?" He asked, taking your hand.

"Yes. It's just... Strange to be outside my house without my sisters. Just... Just alone, free..."

You were really sad. But you also felt relief. You were actually free as you said. And you were with a man you loved, who cared for you, protected you and loved you back. You smiled a little, making him smile too.

You arrived to Monsieur Aubin by night. He was a rich man, so his butler opened the door when he recognized the Abbé de Coulmier. He let you in, seeing you from head to toes. You were clean, but those clothes weren't from people with money.

Aubin came downstairs and hugged François. He saluted you with kindness and called his housekeeper. She took you to a bedroom and gave you a dress that could fit you. After that, you accepted to take a bath in the large bathroom of the Mansion. You needed it.

The Mansion was very similar to yours, but smaller. You didn't got out of the bedroom, tho. You decided to wait François in there, seeing the expensive wooden furniture while you were lying in bed.

Coulmier found you sleeping, so he sat by your side, touching your hair. You were lovely. He wanted to tell you Aubin wanted you both to stay that night at his home. And he decided to go downstairs, but you woke up.

"Hey." You said. "How did that go?"

"We can stay in here tonight. Do you want to eat something? They're making dinner."

"That would be nice." You said, taking his hand. He let it in your face, caressing it. "What did he tell you?"

"Well, he said my parents are in Spain, and he had a lot of money that's mine. They let it here. The thing is that Odelle never gave me the letter before. I just had to go to your home and take the second letter."

"But my sisters kept you in there because of that demonic week with their guests."

"Exactly. I wasn't going out of there alive, even if Odelle said I would be free. That's why she didn't gave me the letter. I would be out of the House of Lust before it even started."

You chatted more, and then you went downstairs to eat and talk with Monsieur Aubin. You talked about you, but you didn't mention your sisters and he didn't asked.

The man was nicer that anyone. He laughed a lot and made you smile after everything you're been through. You eat chicken with potatoes and he told you the direction of François' parents in Spain.

François explained that he wasn't a priest anymore until he could talk with the bishop. But he wasn't wrong when he also said he wanted to keep it that way, because he was in love with the girl who hosted him in her house.

Aubin said you looked lovely together, and that he hope you both could have a happy life, with children maybe, joking about marrying soon. He passed a hand into his grey hair and apologized for going to bed early. He was a lawyer and he had to work the next day.

You went to the bedroom together and hugged for a couple of minutes, sitting in the bed and looking at each other. You suddenly started to cry. You went through a lot in a few days: love, pain, death, sadness. But you were alive, with him.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" He asked, visible worry.

"I'm sorry for Josephine. But I'm happy I'm with you."

He approached to you slowly, with his eyes wet, and kissed you. The kiss went deeper as your hands caressed his handsome face. You both forgot for a moment everything that happened in the Mansion as he made you lie down in the bed.

He kissed your neck, making you gasp. A few moments latter you were taking off your clothes while kissing each other. He went on top of you, kissing you again, his fingers going all around your body. It was all happening faster as ever. And you both wanted it.

You carressed his soft skin until you felt his hard cock against you thighs. You took his hair and grabbed his dark locks. He entered you slowly, feeling how wet and ready you were to take him inside you, kissing and bitting your breasts.

You weren't fucking. You were making love. To any other person, you both would be crazy to do it after everything that happened. People had suffered. He was tortured. And a lot died, including your sisters.

But you had a moment now, to feel each other and show love. Any gasp, any moan, any sound you made was a sign of how you could forget everything and enjoy to be alive. You were losing your virginity, you were finally feelling as a woman, pleasure running all your body.

You left everything: your House, your belongings, your books, dresses and everything you had. Your family was dead. But the only thing you missed was Josephine. You cried a lot for her, and you knew you would cry a lot after.

But you were with the man you loved, knowing you would have a future with him. He wanted to go to Spain, as he expressed during dinner, and you accepted without hesitation. You didn't have anything more in France.

You wanted to know the world with him. You wanted to know his parents, to have a home and raise a family with him. He wanted the same.

"I love you, Y/N." Said he while thrusting. You climaxed clenching your fingers in his buttocks and he followed you soon after, his head in your chest to feel your heart, your fingers in his hair to calm him down.

"I love you too, Abbé." You said, as if that was a nickname. Maybe it was. He wasn't the man he was before. He forgot about Charenton, Madeline and the Marquis de Sade. Or at least, he promised to himself he would.

He had you. And soon, you would be out of France and away all the madness that followed you both. He was full of love, and he wanted to be happy after everything that happened the last years. He was a good man who deserved it, as you were a fantastic girl who also deserved a man like him: almost a saint who was corrupted.

God gave him another chance. He was kept in a cell for five years after loosing his friend and the girl he loved. He was innocent, idealist, joyful. By now he was another man, away from those things. But he was still a good person. And he wasn't crazy at all. He knew that everything he'd been through was like a test. And he passed it.

He was free as you: free from his chains, from his own mind, from bad people. He was free to do whatever he wanted, even to love you. He cried in your chest, embracing you strongly.

You were there, you were real, you were just like him. And he sweared he was going to be faithful to you. You deserved to be happy and he was going to take care of you more that his own life. You saved his after all.

Monsters were real; his friends, your family, and a lot of people you knew. You didn't mind about anything more, you knew nobody will look for you, it was always like if you didn't existed. By now you were together, out finally of the House of Lust. And you loved each other. Only God knew what would happen to you after. But you were certain it would be a good, happy life.

Tagging: @darknessisafriend @five-miles-over @galos-writing @thegirlwho @jokerflecker @missrockabilly99 @luperugorria1975 @weirdflecksbutok @skaraboo @starksclown @sgtsavoytruffle @joaquinisart @sophiefleck @the-queen-of-things @ajokerfangirl @bailaycantaconmingo @joaquinfeed @joaquinphoenixdaily @beatlebabe1996

[joa-quin-phoe-nix-fan]

Just A Simple Unrequited Love-Part 1-Abbé de Coulmier X reader FF

Just A Simple Unrequited Love-Part 1

You had noticed that the Abbé had been working awfully hard recently. No one knew why, but this week was the week that all the patients unintentionally and unanimously decided to all be the most difficult.

When normally a patient playing with, eating or throwing their own feces was only really a thing that happened once a week if even at all, this week there were 2-4 cases of this happening every day! This meant that the Abbé not only had to clean whole rooms and patients (with help of course but not many handmaids really wanted to do that and the Abbé didn’t really want them doing it either so he would try to just dismiss them early) but he also had to calm down these patients, volatile, rude, violent, and terrifying. He would get hit, kicked, spat on, and even have feces thrown on him, but he was always patient and kind, smiling nicely at them and comforting them.

Another thing that happened was that a group of patients were found fornicating in the chapel. Although anyone close enough to the Abbé knew that he was furious at this, but again, he was calm and patient, scolding the patients kindly and fairly before going into the chapel with all the handmaids and cleaned the entire chapel from top to bottom, then cleansed it with incense and chanting.

Then it turned out that the Marquis was releasing his novels again, embarrassing the Abbé and shaming Charenton. The Abbé had to have a talk with the Marquis that almost turned violent, but Abbé reminded the Marquis that he could very easily make it so he could never write again and the Marquis withdrew from the argument.

In between these events were many other smaller issues such as some of the torches in the great hall falling and a small carpet catching on fire, having to round up all the pyromaniacs, the library becoming infested with rats and silverfish, two patients getting in a fist fight, patients being kept up at night with terrible nightmares, and the cafeteria food being rumoured of being poisoned by a rather paranoid patient.

Needless to say, the Abbé was extremely tired, but no matter how tired he was, he kept going, kept helping, kept getting more and more tired. At a certain point, he sort of just drifted around Charenton, smiling tiredly and sadly at everyone with giant bags under his eyes, looking like a skeleton since he hadn’t had time to have a full meal for days, still having to help any way he could. He would feel destroyed if anything bad happened at Charenton and he hadn’t helped. He would feel like he had failed his cause and not know what to do with himself. This fear pushed him further and further until in that week alone, he had only had about 3 hours of sleep.

You had noticed this, like all the other handmaids, you were all worried about him and if there was work to do you would all beg him to stop and get to sleep, but he was as stubborn as he was dedicated. Every night, when you went to sleep, you sobbed at the knowledge that the Abbé was still up and still deteriorating in health and that there was nothing that you could do. You loved him so much and couldn’t stand to see him like that every day, but if you didn’t, you would feel just as sad. He was the whole reason you had become a handmaid at Charenton, you had seen him in the streets, wearing his cassock, looking at everyone with a look of comforting love and respect, this was rather uncommon in your town so it stood out like a sore thumb. This is what made you fall for him instantly, in fact, some might say that it was love at first sight. That’s when you joined the handmaidens at Charenton and as each day passed, you fell deeper and deeper in love with him. After you had noticed what was happening to the Abbé you instantly knew that what you needed to do was to stay by his side as much as possible, no matter what you witnessed or had to clean, and that’s what you did. You caught the things that slipped through his hands due to his weakness, you made sure that you cleaned much more than half of the room so he would have less to clean, you helped him reach the things that he couldn’t reach, and you helped calm down as many patients as you could, but most of them just wanted the Abbé.

One day, you were taking down the sheets off of the lines together, a morbid silence suffocating you both. You had just turned away from him for a second to pull down a sheet that had gotten stuck when you heard a loud thud and the wooden springing sound of the basket held by the Abbé bouncing on the grass. You turned to see what happened and found the Abbé on the ground, the basket by his side, looking like a mountain next to the now frail man. You ran to him, checking his pulse and his breath, he was just sleeping. You sighed with relief, sitting next to him and stroking his hair, this woke him up and his eyes shot open as he breathed in sharply. He tried to jump up to get back to work but you held his hand tightly. “Don’t do this.” he breathed “I need to make sure everything is okay” you slowly pulled him down, with him finally complying for the first time in a week. “Everything is not okay as long as you aren’t okay.” you whispered, stroking his face and patting your lap, “you need sleep, come here and rest, the other handmaids will do what needs to be done.” He tried desperately to say no, to jump up, tell you that he was perfectly fine and run off to his tasks, but he couldn’t. He knew he was in bad shape and needed sleep, your lap suddenly looked incredibly comfortable and he could no longer resist. He flopped down onto your lap, surprising you at first but you were still very happy, he was finally resting. You smiled down at him and stroked his black hair, noting that despite his young age, he was already developing grey hairs.

Eventually the other handmaids noticed the Abbé’s absence and came looking for him. At that point you had sat there with him for at least 1 hour. The Abbé was deep in sleep and would not wake up to anything. The handmaids and you carried him to his bed carefully, them then recommending that you stay with him. They knew exactly how much you loved him and they never told you this but they were all pretty certain that he loved you too. In fact, they had been trying to play Cupid for a while before the Abbé's slow descent. They all loved him too but none among them could bring themselves to say that they thought that you two wouldn’t be a lovely couple. There had always been a lovely sense of sorority between all the handmaids, this would only change much later when two new handmaidens arrived in Charenton; Madelaine and Charlotte.

You sat on the bed, with the Abbés head on your lap, he was lightly snoring, which was adorable and you had to be careful of your heartbeat, scared that it was becoming so loud that he would surely hear it and wake up with a start. As time passed, you started to study the form of his face, beautiful black hair that curled at the ends, but he never grew it out long enough for you to see if it was curly or wavy, you wondered how he would react to seeing the few grey hairs on his head and giggled. His eyes, green as the brightest emerald when open, now shut with his long eyelashes fluttering like a stirring butterfly every few minutes. His lips, not thick but not terribly thin, decorated with a thin line on the left of his philtrum, these were the perfect lips for smiling, luckily that was something he loved to do, smiling at everyone that passed him. “I smile at everyone Y/N, because I happen to know that a scowl can ruin one’s appetite, but a smile can better one’s day.” This was his only explanation, but he didn’t need one, you loved that he just did it and anything just to be nice. His lips were not ones that you couldn’t even imagine yelling, you also hoped you would never see that. His hands, worn from work, looked a little bit older than the rest of his body, but that only showed how dedicated he was to the work he did at Charenton.

After quite a while of just looking at him lovingly, you decided that you should try to occupy yourself in any way possible. You picked up your knitting needles, wool and the list of sizes and colour preferences of all the patients. You started at it, pink socks for Olivier, orange gloves for Lucille, a gold scarf for the Marquis and a blue hat for Gwenaëlle. As you knitted, you wondered if the Abbé had enough warm things for the winter, and what his favourite colour was. All you had ever seen him in was his black cassock. Once you had finished the pink socks and blue hat, you started knitting a red scarf for the Abbé. You had no clue if he even liked that colour, but you thought that it would look perfect on him. You knit and knit and knit, the scarf was probably at about your height when you finally stopped. This was when you realized that your legs had fallen asleep, from his head cutting off circulation to them. You decided that this was probably your cue to change position. You squirmed out from underneath him and adjusted him better on his bed, with his head fully on the pillow. Then you decided to sit next to the bed with your arms and head resting on it. Slowly, your eyes started to shut and you felt yourself doze off...

The Abbés eyes fluttered open slowly, when did he fall asleep? How did he get into his bed? He looked around sleepily, trying to figure out what happened when he saw Y/N, his favourite handmaid. The one he loved...her head laying on the bed next to him, she was fast asleep. There were 3 beautifully knitted things sitting nicely and folded around her. The one that caught his eye though, was a beautiful, long red scarf sitting directly to the left of her. He loved the colour red, it was the colour of roses, the colour of beautiful chili peppers, the colour of apples and jam. A thought passed through his head, what if she made it for him? Had he even told her his favourite colour? My Lord, she looked beautiful, so innocent and pure, dreaming softly right next to him. He reached over and stroked the ball of hair in front of him, her hair dancing between his fingers like water. He chuckled slightly, she was just so cute. He suddenly stopped, what was he doing? Did this count as lust? Or was it just shameful because he was so deeply in love with a simple handmaid? He shook it off. It was just a simple unrequited love, that’s it. He could keep control of his heart until it eventually passed.

[galos-writing]

Quills - Riddle of Time (ch. 5)

Summary: Charenton hides hundreds of secrets, and so every person in there do.

Part 4 is here! 👇🏻

______________

François and Lucille panted, after having run through the entire asylum and having avoided Valcours or other people of the staff, to reach her room.

-I really hope that you have a good plan for this, young man, because I don't want to get scolded or kicked out because of you.- the young woman breathed out, recovering her breathing pace. François chuckled, panting as well, and licked his lips.

-Wow, what a temper, little girl.- he grinned, and ran his fingers through his messy hair. Lucille frowned: her, with a temper? -Who are you calling a little girl?- she asked, getting irritated. Her grunt made the prisoner laugh.

-Sorry, I was joking! You're so touchy!- he kept mocking her, with an amused grin and approached his hand to rub her puffy hair. The girl's cheeks turned a fiery red, how embarrassed she felt. -Don't touch me.- she blankly stated, slapping his hand to shoo it. He briefly whined and waved his hand, quite offended. -Do you have a plan? I don't have all day!- she then beamed, her fear was so overwhelming her that was almost turning into annoyance.

-I uh...- he pinched his chapped lips.

Lucille sighed.

-You don't, right?- she asked, in a deflated tone. She wasn't surprised at all. Did that man use to be the former Director of a madhouse? François lowered his head, almost in shame. Lucille sighed and hesitantly touched his shoulder. He flinched a bit; apparently, he wasn't used to physical contact, but he soon got relaxed. -I just know that those novels don't have to be sold. I don't want other disgraces to happen because of them.-

-Why?- she asked, confused. -It's mere literature, yes erotic, but still literature.-. The young man shook his head and looked at her. He barely began to speak, starting to babble; maybe he didn't know how to explain himself properly as an anxious tic.

He finally managed to speak, after a deep breath. -It's not that easy as you think.- he paused, swallowing down. -You have no idea of what happened because of those novels. Have you read one?-.

Lucille shook her head. He raised an eyebrow, surprised, and grinned. -Good, you're one of the few pure souls remained in this damned town and France.-. The girl tilted her head and looked at him. -Have...have you read them?- she asked, her heart beating fast for some reason.

-Of course.- he replied, a little smirk forming on his lips. -I had to check on the Marquis's signs of progress.-. The girl swallowed down, he witnessed the lewdest and cruellest proofs of human depravity.

-What’s wrong?- He asked, looking at her. Her face was completely red, her pure mind doing an effort on thinking about the dirtiest thing that she could reach.

-H-huh?- she woke up from a coma. -Oh, nothing, I was just wandering with my mind.- she babbled, blushing even more. He chuckled.

-You look like a tomato!- he laughed, pointing at her face, and covered her mouth, trying to muffle her laugh. Lucille grunted, but his laugh was so sincere and serene that she melted in a brief giggle as well.

-So?- he then asked, after some seconds of silence. -So what?- she asked back, tilting her head. The prisoner looked at her and smiled.

-Do you have any idea, boss?-

Lucille looked at him surprised, then giggled again. -Are you serious?-.

-Totally, I am asking for help, and aside from the Abbé de Maupas, you seem to be the only one able to satisfy my request.- he grinned, pulling back his hair. -Don’t say that with that face, please...- she babbled, embarrassed again.

François laughed. -Why are you always so nervous?- he asked, now curious. Lucille looked at him. -You want to talk?!- she shrieked, shocked. He rolled his eyes and scoffed, blowing a lock of his chocolate messy hair off his face. 

The nurse took her brush and approached the man's hair. He made a face, reluctant of being touched by that tool. 

-Relax!- Lucille exclaimed, gently rubbing his shoulders, and began to brush his hair, and tied them up in a tiny ponytail. He seemed relieved; maybe he was used to having shorter hair. 

-Now, let's think of a plan.- Lucille stated, sitting in front of him. She hadn't the time of starting thinking, that a carriage outside caught her attention, an empty one, it seemed. She grinned and looked at François. 

-You know how much time passes before a book is published and sold?- she asked. The prisoner raised his shoulders. -Eh, five days, more or less.- he replied flatly. He then got curious by her question. -Why are you asking?- 

She scoffed again and pointed the carriage with her head. The man looked outside, then at her again. -You're joking.-

The woman shook her head.

-You're not joking.- he sighed, and got up. -Alright, let's do this.-

Tag list:

@darknessisafriend @indieblair @peakyfuckingblinders21 @ajokeformur-ray @stellargirlie @fly-like-a-phoenix @jokerflecker @nothingclown @five-miles-over @fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 @jokerownsmysoul @imaginarytowel @pursuit-of-comedy @chalkicharli @sanguinandoscrivo

(Tell me if you want to be added in the tag list ^^)

[ajokeformur-ray]

Hi, my loves!🥰

@jokerflecker is really down on interaction on their blog at the moment and is looking for some nonnies! Dirty confessionals or nice thoughts are very welcomed, though please observe the blog rules and follow them accordingly. They write for our darling man Arthur and his Joker, Commodus and Abbe, so there’s plenty of variety for you to interact with! They’re a lovely person with stunning fics, the most sinful NSFW I’ve ever read (and I mean that as a high compliment), and their answers are always so wonderfully characterised, as I’m sure you know.

They are currently questioning whether their blog has run its course or not and I, personally, don’t want to see them go quite so soon. I more than understand how busy everyone is but please don’t let this beautiful blog go under due to a lack of interaction.

[nanabrainrot]

could you do some nsfw and sfw headcanons where abbe becomes obsessed with the innocent reader? if the reader could be male that would be amazing but if you're not so comfortable with that that's fine! your writing is so good btw!

Hello! I’m not familiar with writing m!readers I’m sorry :( I primarily write f!readers I hope you understand! Here are some headcanons 💕 thank you for your patience

Abbe de Coulmier Obsessive Headcanons

SFW Headcanons

• Charenton is a cold, dull place and, as a Man of God, the Abbe de Coulmier even finds the Spirit waning in him the more horrid things he sees. As his endeavors in converting the Marques stretches on, you are by his side and, while well intentioned, you manage to complicate it even further.

• You wear clothes that inevitably fit you a bit tighter due to your curvaceous form and his wandering eye becomes beyond ignoring. Of course, you remain oblivious, giggling as you help the patients play catch in the courtyard, taunting him as your breasts bounce as you frolick innocently. You are the forbidden fruit and the serpent lulls him toward you a bit more everyday.

• The default kindness in you kills him. Conversation is so natural from your pink lips, a white grin flashing at everyone who speaks to you and as time goes on, you notice every single time the Abbe sees you in discussion, he interrupts, with measly tasks and basic small talk, ushering the other person off. Too kind, you accept the conversation of the dashingly handsome Abbe, smiling sweetly up at him and he comes to terms he wants your smile to be his alone. The serpent lulls him closer as you look up at him.

• He becomes almost your shadow. Actually, he makes you become his, after some strange time of him following you to activities to lead patients to their quarters or make runs to the infirmary, he’s there, expecting. Suddenly, he requests you as his assistant. His personal assistant, staying in his offices, alone and sifting through papers. You see less of others, the kind laundresses and sweet nurses are no longer there to converse, so you get chattier with the Abbe; why would you mind if a nice handsome man was the only one who talked to you? He was a Man of God, he couldn’t possibly have any gross motive. (But he does)

NSFW! Headcanons

• The Abbe de Coulmier politely demands requests that you move your quarters beside his. Albeit an odd request, you oblige, it’s be a less lengthy walk to his offices and if he required your services, you’d be a door away! During moving your belongings, he absolutely insists on helping you, by moving most things in, and, after everything is moved in, he tells you to go off and do some paperwork as he unpacks for you. You’re a bit taken aback as it’s your personal belongings he’s unpacking, but the weird eagerness in his face tells you he really, really wants to unpack your belongings. After all, you’ll only be two doors away in his offices, what’s the worry? “Okay,” you smile at the Abbe and hug him briefly before setting off out the door to file the patients’ records, “I can’t thank you enough Abbe, for everything.”

He makes a beeline for your boxes, opening them all until he finds it: your panties. He collects a select few, all an innocent white, some with silly patterns you crudely sewn for fun, and he sneaks to his room next door, shoving some pairs into his pillow case for later. Only a few, you won’t notice, he thinks. You notice, but guess your laundress friends might have missorted the laundry you asked them to do and go about your night routine before nestling into your bed while, next door, the Abbe lays on his back, face pressed deep into your white, flowery cotton panties. He’s practically holding the fruit and the serpent tongues his hand.

He gives himself 50 lashes the next night in silence over The New Testament, bound by aged leather, just like the leather breaking his back.

• The Marques taunts him the next day, somewhat reading his tightness in response to the Marques’ suggestive texts. As he grows frustrated with the Marques’ continued rebellion, the wigged man grins a gross grin at him as you hurry into the Marques’ quarters, softly grabbing the Abbe’s wrist, making him noticeably stiffen, but not you, no, you never notice. “Abbe, I was wondering if you want me to put the patient records in alphabetical order or date order?” you questioned, fingers twiddling with the strings of your apron, glancing and flashing a smile at the Marques, who blew you a kiss. “Alphabetical, now go back to the offices. You need not to be in the room with a man as crude as this. Run along,” he ushered you out the room quickly, much to your dismay, feeling like he treated you like a child. You didn’t know what the Marques did. You didn’t know exactly what sex included exactly, a bit sheltered from stuff like that all your life, and being by the Abbe didn’t help.

“Oh, is that why you seem so skittish these days, Abbe?” Marques snickered, laying back on the chaise lounge, taunting. “You hate my books, my great Justine, my 120 Days of Sodom, but only because you envy that, don’t you? Your Vow of Chastity weakens when you smell that sweet piece of flesh’s hair and the thought of the people loving my books disgusts you, when you really want it. You want to feel her —“

The Abbe’s hands were on his neck in a hot fury. For a few moments, they struggled until the Abbe threw him off the chaise lounge, the Marques landing on the floor in a strained huff. “Mock me until your throat goes sore, but not her.” The next day, he took everything, the quills, parchment, books, stripped him bare of humanity. The Abbe de Coulmier smelled your panties, this time they had green vines on the cotton.

• One day, he suggests a confession, but not in the confessional, no. In his office, at dark, the doors locked, and he moves your chair close beside his behind the mahogany desk. The window and curtains are drawn closed and you sit close, trusting, with eyes closed as your hands are pressed together in prayer, your shoulders’ touching. He wants to strip your heart and soul bare before he moves onto your body, his little assistant of three long months of temptation. “Are you a virgin?” He says boldly, staring at you, knowing you dared not open your eyes. You stiffen in your seat a bit, red in the face, red in your beautiful face. “Yes, Abbe,” you blush, “I never, ever let a boy hug me, not kiss me, not even on the cheek. I have to do those things with the man I wanna marry, Abbe.”

“When was the last time you touched yourself, child?”

Silence washes the room.

“An hour ago.”

The serpent is close and his teeth scrape the skin on the forbidden fruit, cock hard on his slacks as he pictures you, legs spread wide, everything but your white cotton panties off, and you stroking yourself through them, a little wet, then a lot wetter, then he crawls over you, moves the cotton and he - then he - then he —

“Confession is ended. Return to your quarters and say 10 Hail Marys.”

• The night the Vow of Chastity was torn in two was the night he found the Marques, the Marques that taunted him about you, about your soft hair, your plush lips, how pink your pussy could be under your skirts, nude surrounded by his filth. “Leave us be,” he warned the other man, granting his last rights before he lowered the cross to the (unworthy) man’s face, whose unruly face came forward and bit the cross off the rosary, swallowing hard in his last suffering moments. The picture of a good God was tainted by the actions of the cruel men around the Abbe, the Abbe tainted by trauma handed to him by a God testing his faith and, already failing that test, he screamed his lungs dry.

The Abbe slunk away that night, away from the gross feces on the wall scribbling heinous texts, from the body of a sadist, from his own ungodly sin against the Marques, to let him be treated as he didn’t want to be treated. The Abbe de Coulmier slunk away to his quarters, tearful, eyes bright red and still snivelling, the cicadas in the night dulling his pathetic sobs. He stood hunched before his own quarters before looking left, where your door stood, where you probably lay sleeping beautifully, looking like a cherub in your cotton white panties.

He knocks on your door that night, you scurry sleepily to the door, your hair falling from a braid down your shoulder and look up at him in your loose nightgown, eyes glazed with fatigue and concern. You were so beautiful. “What’s wrong, Abbe?” you say quietly, grabbing his hand gently and drawing him into your room and closing the door behind you, locking it and leading him to your bed. You sit beside him, breasts begging to be sucked behind the thin fabric as you rub circles on his hunched back, not close enough. The Abbe looks at you with dark eyes and places a large hand on your thigh. Freeze. You freeze until his hot touch as his eyes, hollow, burn the image of you in this moment into them. “Let me make you a woman tonight. Take off your dress, y/n.”

You swallow thickly and stand up, pulling the fabric over your head. Nude, supple flesh standing bare before him and he takes your hand and lays you down, eyes still missing that hope that drew you in two years ago when you met him, and spreads your legs. His left hand rubs at your folds as his right unbuttons his trousers, which drop to the floor shortly thereafter. His fingers pump in and out, then both his hands palm your breasts, then suddenly he’s naked and on top of you, panting animalistically with eyes swimming with affection and tears. You look up at him with sweet, loving eyes, your brows furrowed in worry, but still moaning and the feeling that you longed for breaking you slowly. He burns this image in his brain. I have to do those things with the man I wanna marry, Abbe. So be it. The Vow of Chastity and hope may have been lost, but he will gain a wife out of you, a baby, a cottage far from this truly godforsaken place. You wished to be his long ago, prayed for it even. Your prayer came true, at the expense of everything he used to be. You would be his alone until time caved in on itself.

He bit the fruit and the serpent laughed as he buried his serpent in you, over and over and over.

[ive-got-99-problems]

Bad Boy

Made this for the beautiful @ackles-freckles-girl​, love you girly! <3

You hum lightly to yourself as you make your way down the halls of the Charenton; it was late, and almost everyone in the asylum was in their rooms. You clenched the collar tightly as you made your way down to the Abbe's room, he was always up late. He had confessed to you how he had troubles sleeping at night so, you decided to help him with his little problem. Once at the door to his room, you took a deep breath before giving a small knock and pushing the door open. The Abbe sat at his desk with a quill in hand, he looked up at you with a puzzled look.

"Y/N, what are you doing out so late?"

You just simply smiled as you slowly closed the door shut, locking it behind you, "I couldn't sleep, I was too busy thinking about you."

The Abbe stared at you, his face becoming red, "O-Oh, well Y/N, I'm flattered but I-"

"Stand up Abbe," you purred as you leaned against the wall, "I know how desperate you are to get that cock out of you."

Abbe whimpered, slowly standing to reveal his hardened cock, pressing painfully against his pants.

You smiled deviously as you stared, "Now, strip for me Abbe, do it slowly."

The Abbe whimpered softly as he ran his hands up his torso and began to play with the buttons of his crisp white shirt. He slowly popped one open, looking up at you for approval before going to the next. When he had his shirt fully unbuttoned, he began to run his hands up and down his chest, letting out soft whimpers as he skimmed his nipples.

"Pinch them," you whispered, feeling your pussy start to become wet.

Abbe whimpered as he did as he was told. He pinched them in between his fingers and moaned as he began to twist, his eyes rolling back into his head as the pleasure ran through him.

"Good boy Abbe, now keep stripping," you whispered, your hand falling to rub your clothed woman-hood.

He slowly let his shirt fall from his chest, his fingers still pinching himself roughly as his free hand feel down to his pants. He popped his pants up and slowly pushed them down his waist, his cock springing up and slapping wetly against his belly. You smirked as he shyly reached behind himself and thrust the stone cock that was firmly inside of him in and out. He moaned breathlessly as he twisted his nipples, his back arching as his eyes clenched shut.

You moaned at the sight, "Good boy, now get on your knees."

He did what he was told and got down, whimpering as the cock inside of him pushed up against his prostate. You chuckled and made your way towards him, shedding your nightgown as you did so. You held out the collar and leash that you kept tightly hidden behind your back, Abbe stared at you with widened eyes as you wrapped the collar around his neck.

"Too tight?" You questioned, still wishing for his enjoyment of the situation.

"N-No," he whispered breathlessly, "Just right."

You smiled and leaned down to kiss his lips, your tongue dominating his as you explored his wet cavern. He moaned into the kiss as you reached out to stroke his aching cock. He thrust into your hand and gasped as you squeezed it, a bead of precum sliding down his cock and onto your hand. You hooked the leash to the collar and broke the kiss, smiling at his seductively as you pulled. He gasped and fell against your thigh, he panted as he inhaled your scent, causing his cock to twitch.

"Now, be a good boy and play with your master."

Abbe stared up at you, not daring to break eye contact as he opened his mouth and slipped your sensitive bug into his mouth. You moaned out and your head fell back as he suckled on it, he quickly began to alternate from sucking to licking up and down your folds.

"Fuck yourself," you moan as you dig your fingers into his curls.

Abbe moans as he grasps at the cock inside of him and begins to slide it in and out, one hand on your hip and the other on the cock inside of him. You pull the leash back, causing him to slightly choke. You adjust yourself so you're practically standing directly above his head. He thrusts his tongue into your tight hole, moaning at the taste as he laps up your juices. You moan loudly as he fucks you with his tongue, his nose rubbing against your clit in the most pleasurable way.

You take note of his moans becoming louder and more frequent, you growl as you grip his head tighter. You thrust your hips onto his face, moaning loudly as your orgasm rushes through you and you spray your cum into his mouth. Abbe drinks up your cum desperetly as he grinds his hips down, his cock bouncing as he does so.

You pant, trying desperately to speak, but before you can say anything you hear him moaning loudly. You look down to see that he had came, ropes of cum falling onto the floor as he groaned against your clit. He thrust hips, trying to meet the invisible mass he was fucking. When both of your orgasms faded you stared down at him with a disapproving look.

"Bad boy," you whisper, "I never gave you permission to cum."

He stared up at you, his face wet with your juices, "I-I'm sorry, mistress, I-I-"

"Don't apologize," you hissed before shoving his head to the floor, "Clean it."

Abbe whimpered, his face blood-red as he knelt down and slowly began to lap up his cum. You watched with fascination as his tongue delicately big up his cum and brought it back into his mouth. With the last strip of cum he picked up he looked up at you with his mouth open, displaying his cum covered tongue before swallowing it down. You breathed out shakily as a shiver ran down your spine.

"You've been a bad boy, Abbe, bad boys get punished," you whispered before leaning down and stroking his sensitive cock.

He gasped and thrust his hips to meet your hand, "O-Oh God, oh yes, M-Mistress!"

You smiled as he writhed, his head falling back as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"I-I'm close!"

You laughed, "Already, my you are such slutty boy arent you? You're so needy and desperate you can't help but continue to cum and cum until you can't anymore."

He whimpered as he rocked his hips, "P-Please."

You let go of his cock, causing him to cry out in desperation. You laughed as he whimpered, "P-Please, please, I need it."

"Not yet, baby, you need to be taught a lesson."

You waited a few moments before grabbing it again, Abbe cried out again as his hands scrambled to grab something in order to keep him latched to reality. Just as he got to the edge she let go, tears pricked his eyes as he stared at you with pleading eyes.

"Just wait, baby, you'll get to cum don't worry."

You continued to grab and jerk his cock and each and every time it was the same. You'd bring him to the peak of his pleasure before letting go of him completely, you mainly did it with your hand but at one point you sucked his cock into your mouth. Watching with a smile as he cried out and writhed, begging you to let him finish as tears fell down his cheeks. You even played with the cock inside of him, twisting it and pressing it against his prostate, enjoying the twitching and bobbing of his cock.

"God, I'm sorry," he sobbed out, "I'm sorry I finished before you told me to, please, please I beg you, please let me finish!"

He continued to sob as you let go of his cock and kissed him, "Alright baby, alright, I'll let you cum. But you'll have to grind on my leg in order to do it."

He whimpered, "Yes, yes, yes, thank you, thank you, thank you-"

He kept whimpering praises as you sat down on his bed, smiling as he placed his hands beside you and began to grind his cock into your leg. He kept whimpering and crying out as the purpled cock started to leak more precum.

"That's it baby, cum for me, cum for your mistress."

With that he came, he practically screamed your name as his cum shot onto your legs and belly. He slouched down over you as he basked in his afterglow, you whispered praises to him as you gently slipped the stone cock from his tight hole. He whimpered as it left, he pressed a kiss into your hair before kissing down your cheek and neck. He then began to lap up his cum from your body, moaning softly as his tongue ran over your curves.

Once he had you cleaned you took off his collar, kissing his bruised neck and rubbing his back gently as you both laid on his bed.

"I wasn't too rough?" You questioned as you petted his hair.

"No," he whispered, "You did just fine my love."

You smiled and blushed at the name before leaning up to kiss his lips, "I love you, my precious Abbe."

He laughed softly as he wrapped his arms around you and deeply inhaled the scent of your hair, "I love you too, Y/N."

[asphodelsandpomegranates]

Somewhere Within These Halls (part 1) (Abbé de Coulmier x Reader)

It did not hurt when you crawled out of hell. In fact, it was rather fun. Rather full of suspense, especially with what you were about to do.

What, you ask?

Why, a little strife, of course.

You had been sent to cause a little rift within the mad house, Charenton, and then come home. And that's what you intended to do.

The doors easily opened to you. And you were met...with no one in sight.

Stepping into the foyer of the house, the only sounds of your bare feet hitting softly against the stone floor. A distant laugh sounded far off – somewhere deep in the large household – and all grew silent. You continued your way along the empty halls. Your taloned fingers running against the stone cold walls. You rolled your neck thrice, clicking every single bone and loosening every crick there and began to pour out your very 'soul' into the—.

“Excuse me.” a voice called out, making you halt mid-step. You had been found? “Have you lost your way, my child? Come now, back to bed.”

A small smile appeared on your lips. Poor little, naïve lamb. You turned, readying yourself to strike when you caught sight of the man before you. This man was...absolutely exquisite. Was he an angel? There was noway! Why on earth had an angel come here? Of all places? But on closer inspection you found that he was wearing clothes that belonged to those who belonged to the church.

Oh, what were the chances of you finding a Man of God within the space of five minutes!

“Pardon me, good sir. But I'm a weary, lost girl that just happened to come across...this place. Where am I?”

The man, or priest, stepped closer to you, his dark robes swirling around him, making him look like some sort of majestic creature. “Oh, well, I'm sure we of Charenton will find you a place to stay here.”

You gave a little bow to the priest. “Thank you, kind sir. I'm sorry, I didn't ask your name.”

“Oh, well, I am the Abbé De Coulmier, just call me Abbé, dear child. And what is your name?”

“(Y/N), my Abbé.” you purred, whilst still trying to keep the innocent act up. Maybe there would be no time to infect the whole asylum but maybe it wouldn't be so bad to get this priest under your thumb. Or maybe just underneath you.

The Abbé moved closer to you, steering you into a different direction. As his hand came into contact with your shoulder, you felt a spark, a strange tingling sensation at his touch.

“So, my dear (Y/N). Where are you from?” the Abbé asked as you followed him through the halls.

“So, a little place just south.” you replied, smiling at your little inside joke.

“Oh, so you do come from France, then? It's just your accent is must usual.”

You shrugged. “Well, when you've been here, there and every where, you tend to pick little habits up.”

“Well, I'm sure you must have some stories to tell.”

“I highly doubt that I could. I might talk your ears off.”

“I'm sure you can give one of our patients a run for his money.”

“Patients?” you asked, suddenly becoming a little curious.

“Yes. This is Charenton. An asylum for the...insane.”

“Goodness. And you're in charge?”

“You could say that.” the Abbé smiled, bashfully.

“Goodness. How lucky am I to meet you?”

“Well, the Lord does work in mysterious ways.”

“Yes. I often thought of the 'Divine Plan' as...ineffable.”

“I've never thought of God's plan like that.” he laughed.

At another level from where the patients lived, you both turned a corner and the Abbé gestured to one of the rooms.

“This will be yours here. The one next to it is mine.”

“How fortunate.” you giggled. How fortunate, indeed~.

“Yes, well if you need anything, I'll only be a door away and I shall be glad to give you tour of Charenton, tomorrow.”

“Oh, I'd love a tour, Abbé.” you purred. You stepped round so that you stood between the door to your new room and the Abbé.

This was it. Your chance had come, to grasp and do as you pleased. This Man of God will be sinning with you, dawn till dusk, for all of eternity.

You leaned in towards him before maneuvering to cheek and pressing your lips there in a soft kiss that meant to much more. Your lips lingered there, you were meant to. You poured your magic into his very soul, infecting every bone in his body. But all the while, as you lips stayed on his cheek, you began to feel that odd prickling sensation that you'd felt before rise in you.

As you pulled away, you looked into the Abbé's eyes, your own flaring scarlet.

You frowned.

Whilst his pupils were dilated a little, you couldn't feel your power in him. Its as though your spells had had no affect on him. How was this possible? You had one this thousands of times. You had infected thousands of mortals, of those pathetic humans...but not this one.

What are you, Abbé? You thought to yourself.

“Is everything all right, (Y/N)?” the Abbé asked, breaking you from your thoughts.  

“Y-yes. Absolutely.” you said, planting a fake smile on your face. “Well, good night, Abbé.”

“...Good night.”

And you swept into the room, slamming the door behind you, your eyes burning red like the fires in the pits of Hell itself! 

[elusive---ivory]

Tempt Me - 1

Abbe de Coulmier x Reader, Abbe de Coulmier x Oc

Frick yeah, another fabulous fanfiction, because Quills is funny and super sexy.

In the cobblestone streets of Saint-Maurice France, a fiery temptress roamed the night. She would dance naked, singing songs about death and fire.

Screams from the nuns as the temptress burned down their sanctuaries.

The temptress showed no signs of stopping. The madwoman set hundreds of fires chanting over and over the phrase.

"Que les brûlés soient oubliés."

Eventually, she was caught.

Eléonore Lièvremont was deemed a madwoman, a witch, and a raging sadist. She sat in her quarters, smirking at the erotica she had laid on her desk.

"Fresh linens," called the laundress.

Eléonore glared through the small slot of her chamber door. She dusted feathers off her silk gown as she walked over to her door, picking up her fresh linens.

"Going to see the Marquis again, I see. It would be quite the shame if Abbe de Coulmier knew about your whereabouts, Mademoiselle LeClaire." Eléonore teased.

"Shut up, you're just as guilty as me." Madeline LeClaire commented.

"You know, you do have a key, and I haven't been out in ages." Eléonore tapped on Madeline's hand.

"What? Are you heading to see the Marquis as well?" Madeline pulled her hand away.

Eléonore rolled her eyes, and scoffed. "As if, I already had my time with the old bastard. I don't want anything to do with him. He's so boring, telling the same story over and over. When will he ever try something new?"

Madeline rolled her eyes. "Well, maybe if you actually wrote something, you could criticize him."

Eléonore glared at Madeline, as she walked away from her chambers. Eléonore laid down on her bed. Her silky nightgown falling just above her thighs. She heard a soft voice through her chamber door.

"Madame Eléonore. Are you awake?" The voice asked.

Eléonore recognized that voice in an instant. The very kind voice she's known for six months. "Monsieur Abbe. I'm very much awake, come on in." She said, lowly.

Abbe walked in looking around the messy chamber. "Eléonore, I hope I'm not intruding on anything, but I'd like you to join me for my painting class." Abbe smiled, nervously at the fair temptress in front of him.

Eléonore smirked, looking up at him. She got off the bed, getting closer to the Abbe. "Most certainly, Monsieur. I would love to join your painting class."

Abbe gulped as he was cornered by Eléonore. "Of course, just as soon as you get dress."

"Of course, Abbe." Eléonore backed away from Abbe, placing a hand on hip. She watched as Abbe walked out of her quarters.

Six months ago, Eléonore met with the Marquis de Sade, bonding over their erotic nature and devious thoughts. The relationship between Eléonore and the Marquis lasted a month, until Eléonore decided to change one of his many erotic stories.

She wrote about a priest falling for a succubus, who had longed for love for most of her life. Once Marquis found out about this story, he was furious. Eléonore knew her relationship with Marquis had to end. She spoke to Abbe about moving her quarters. He was hesitant, but filled her request. For the past four months, Eléonore shut herself in her chambers, only reading the erotica passed around in the asylum.

Eléonore was bored of the stories. She was bored to death of the sex. She wanted something unreal. She wanted the love, the compassion, the romance, and the tragedy of human emotions. Eléonore admired the Abbe de Coulmier from afar. He was kind and pure. He built this asylum to help patients spread their creativity.

Eléonore walked into the garden, surprisingly fully clothed. She stared longingly at the wall covered in dead roses.

"Eléonore," called Abbe, "is there something troubling you? I didn't see you in my class."

Eléonore turned around towards Abbe. "No, I'm quite alright. I was clearing my mind."

"You can tell me anything, Eléonore. I'm here to help you." Abbe smiled, kindly. His soft eyes struck Eléonore.

"Do you ever feel stuck in an endless loop of misery and sex?" Eléonore said, bluntly.

Abbe was taken aback by her words. "What ever do you mean?"

"I've read the Marquis stories, and they're always the same. It's like just the same story with the same ending, like it's trapped in some endless loop." Eléonore sighed.

"Has the Marquis been troubling you? I could talk with him. I don't want you to feel helpless here. I want you to be free." Abbe placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I wish I could be free." She whispered.

Abbe looked at her, sympathetically. Poor Eléonore was broken. She may be vulgar, unladylike, as well as a bit of a pyromaniac, but she was also human.

"Come with me, Eléonore. I'd like you to see the choir." Abbe held onto Eléonore's arm as they walked into the cathedral hall.

With the wave of his hand, beautiful song filled the cathedral. Eléonore sat in the front row, looking up at Abbe with full admiration.

Soon, the song came to a stop. Eléonore stood up, giving Abbe a standing ovation.

Her ovation was interrupted by Dr. Royer-Collard, and his colleagues.

"Shouldn't the temptress be locked up in her chambers?" He taunted, glaring at her.

Abbe walked over to greet the doctor. "Doctor, she's merely here to observe. She's locked up in that room for long. I offered her to come with me."

Doctor Royer-Collard was known for his sadistic, and brutal methods for madness. Eléonore knew him from being under his custody. He chained her to the basement for 48 days, until she was brought over to the Charenton.

She owed a lot to the Abbe de Coulmier. Whether he knew it or not, he had saved her many times.

"Now as a matter of business. I've come to check up on you. A certain patient of yours has gotten notoriety from the Emperor." The doctor said, walking with Abbe out of the cathedral.

"I'll meet with you later, Eléonore." Abbe waved bye to Eléonore.

Eléonore meekly waved back, feeling the intensity of Dr. Royer-Collard's glare. She walked back to her chambers where she saw Madeline rummaging through things.

"What the hell are you doing, LeClaire?" Eléonore snapped at the maiden in front of her.

"I'm looking for the book you wrote." Madeline said, defending herself.

"Out, LeClaire." Eléonore growled.

"Where is la tentatrice et le prêtre? The Marquis said you hid it away from him." Madeline complained.

"Why do you need that? That's for my own personal use." Eléonore snapped, furiously.

Madeline found a leather bound notebook, with writing on the inside.

"Mademoiselle LeClaire. Give me that book." Eléonore demanded. She grabbed a hold of one end, whilst Madeline was grabbing on the other end.

"You didn't even write it. This is the Marquis's book not yours." Madeline struggling.

As the two girls keep pulling on the book, soon the book tore with pages flying everywhere.

Madeline was filled with instant regret. "Eléonore, I'm sorry." She whispered, looking at her apologetic.

Eléonore turned to Madeline with rage fueling in her eyes. She lunged herself at Madeline, beating her multiple times.

Abbe felt embarrassed by the Marquis. Marquis had published his erotica behind Abbe's back.

Abbe, being the compassionate man that he is, gave Marquis a second chance. The Marquis wasn't just a patient, but he was also a friend to Abbe.

As Abbe was walking back towards his quarters, he saw Madeline and Eléonore fighting.

"Hey, that's enough." He pulled the girls off each other.

"She attacked me. She's mad. She's crazy." Madeline whimpered, cowering into Abbe's arms.

"Abbe, she-" Eléonore was cut off by a glare.

Abbe closed Eléonore's chamber door, and locked her inside.

Eléonore felt her heart break as she sat on her bed looking at the ceiling.

Taglist:

@princessgeekface, @gloomyladyy, @captain-el-writes , @joaquinphoenixlover, @jokerflecker, @joker-flecked-me, @memory-mortis

(Next)

[mysadcorner]

Joaquin Phoenix Dating Headcanons

- Credit to the gifs owner - Requests open -

Masterlist Navigation

• Joaquin would always be so gentle and kind to you. He’d treat you like you were the most special thing on earth to ever exist, and would make the quality time he spends with you represents that.

• You always go on dog walks with him while he tells you the strange and slightly weird things he’s picked up and learned during life. Sometimes the two of you just walk in silence and enjoy the scenery together if you head somewhere new, and he loves being able to be so comfortable with you.

• He prefers to keep your relationship private, he doesn’t want to share you with the public and he knows how daunting celebrity life can be. However, because of this he’s always on high alert or can be easily annoyed when the two of you have been spotted by paparazzi.

• Joaquin becomes fully invested in the characters he plays, so your encouragement means the world to him. Even just helping him learn his lines or listening to him explain a new character concept feels intimate to him. The two of you definitely come up with your own characteristics for each character to make them more relatable or liked by the audience.

• He loves making food with him, even if you aren’t friendly with the vegetarian or vegan lifestyle. But he would very much appreciate it if you were. Joaquin needs someone who feels the same as him with matters he feels very seriously about or he may struggle to keep a deep connection with them.

• He doesn’t like short term relationships. If you two were to date he’d see you far down the road with whole hearted commitment to your shared relationship. If not he would lose interest almost instantly. Joaquin needs someone he can be true to, not someone only interested in a fling.

[five-miles-over]

The Ballad of Mona Lisa

Pairing: Abbé de Coulmier x Reader

Summary: You confess to the priest about certain fantasies that you've been struggling to deal with.

Warning: Mentions of smut + related imagery

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned." You softly said, fluttering your eyelashes as your fingers clutched the fabric of your dress. The confessional box had only a door and a window partially covered by a wooden pattern. Through the gaps in the window, you could see a pale priest with dark curls and a cassock that hid the rest of his body.

"How long has it been since your last confession?" He asked, his voice as soft as his facial features.

"A week…Abbé." 

"Tell me your sins."

You bit your lower lip and began. "My sins…"

"Yes."

"I have sinned in my thoughts, Abbé. I think of that which I should not be thinking of."

The Abbé nodded slowly. "Tell me about your sinful thoughts, so that you may be granted release."

"Yes," you sighed under your breath. "I…fantasize about being touched. In my mind, I cannot see his face, but I can feel his hands on me. He throws me on my bed, and like a wolf hungry for its prey, he roughly pushes the hem of my nightgown up and puts his fingers between my legs... The Abbé blinked, and you kept your eyes upon your feet.

"He pleasures me, pressing the exact places that make me cry out in delight. I feel his fingers, sometimes one, sometimes three, curled inside me and I throw my head back. And when the pleasure is too much, I begged for him to grant me release."

"And did he grant you release?" The Abbé wanted to ask, but he bit the inside of his cheek instead.

You continued, "But just as soon as I've caught my breath, his lips take the place of his fingers. And, oh Abbé, just saying the things he does with his tongue makes me hungry…hungry for more of him."

With ragged breaths, the Abbé swallowed. Flooded in his mind were pictures, ideas of what a man might do with his tongue between a woman's…her intimate areas.

"Just like the hungry wolf he is, he licks my folds and ferociously devours my…my…"

"Yes," the Abbé finished with a gulp. "Is that all that he does?"

"Have I frightened you, Abbé?" You gently asked.

"N-n-n-no…" He shook his head, stammering. "I've heard…I've known…I've known worse. Tell me, is that all this man does?"

"He is not a man but a fantasy, Abbé," you gently say. "And no, that is not all…with his tongue, he makes me scream…and then he rips off the rest of my clothing with those same fingers which are covered in sweet-smelling fluids. He kisses me everywhere, my breasts are his favorite…"

A twitch. This wasn't right. No, no, this most certainly was not right. The Abbé tried to suppress a painful gasp, crossing his legs when he felt something stir inside him. He began to wonder if this a real confession brought by a citizen who found herself giving into an immoral delight. Or was this lady…was she a succubus sent by God to test his purity? 

For the first time, he turned to look at you through the window. He saw your parted lips, the way you nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the way your chest rose and fell with every confession…and the only thing he could feel was the throbbing between his thighs. 

"And when he's lavished me with his lips," you confessed. "I feel his hands upon my waist, my legs pushed apart, and I feel him inside me, moving at a perfect pace that makes me wonder if such euphoria is possib-"

"That is fornication," the Abbé politely interrupted with a sharp breath. He was sure that he would explode if he listened any longer. "You have unholy thoughts about fornication. While you have done the right thing by going to confession…the Lord surely is pleased that you have come here today. But you must perform penance for what you have done, for…for it is a sin to fill the mind with such things."

"What should I do, Abbé?"

"Before you leave the church, recite ten Hail Mary's." He simply said, taking another breath to calm himself. "Will you do that?"

"Yes, Abbé."

He cleared his throat and began as quickly as he coul, "God, the Father of mercies, through the death and the resurrection of His Son has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."

After saying "Amen" you rose from the seat and left the confessional.

At the same time, the Abbé left his place in the confessional and walked at double his normal speed. With baited breath and a racing heartbeat, he shut himself inside his private room within the church and splashed cold water upon his face several times. 

Images from your confession were swimming through his mind, images of hands pleasuring an angelic woman, images of another angelic woman crying out in delight while at the mercy of a tongue…his tongue. Then, his own pale hands tugged at the hem of her dress, ripping the fabric before her lips captured his…

And that was when he knew, he could not erase the pictures his mind had painted.

[darknessisafriend]

Tag list update!

Hey everyone! If you wish to be added to my tag list for all of my writings or some specific Joaquin character, comment bellow ⬇️and I will add you ^^

For those who are new to my blog, I write pretty much every Joaquin Phoenix characters x You/ reader and Joaq himself, any type of requests , anon or non anon, request anytime^^

[fly-like-a-phoenix]

My Abbé de Coulmier fic full of smut, House of Lust, is here! so the chapters are below, just in a click! Enjoy! (* Signs a smut chapter)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Part 5 - Part 6 - *Part 7* - Part 8

*Part 9 * - Part 10 - Part 11 - *Part 12*

*Part 13* - *Part 14* - Part 15 - Part 16

Part 17 - *Part 18* - *Part 19* - *Part 20*

[joa-quin-phoe-nix-fan]

The Interview -Joaquin Phoenix FF

!TW! Emotional abuse, death mentioned, grief

The Interview

It was a very bad idea to drink the night before this interview. You knew it then and you also knew it as soon as you woke up that morning, so hungover you could barely distinguish your feet from your hands. “This is bad...” you mumble to yourself as you walk over to what you could only assume was your medicine cabinet, desperately trying to take some ibuprofen before the inevitable headache and nausea kicked in strong.

After a lot of fumbling and trying to shake pills out of a dental floss container for way too long you finally find the ibuprofen and take 2 with a swig of tap water. Then you walk over to your bedside table hoping that your last nights drunken self had remembered to put your phone there. ..you had remembered! Feeling a slight feeling of pride as your phone finally came into focus you turned it on. Although you had remembered to put your phone in the right place for once, you had sadly forgotten to plug it in. It wasn’t dead but you only had 15% left. “Ugh, I can relate...” you sighed as you plugged it in and looked at the time 9:45. Alright so- wait, 9:45?!? You only have 45 minutes to get to a place 30 minutes away by taxi, but that’s only if you somehow managed to immediately get a taxi as soon as you left your building. Which is practically impossible during tourist season. This means you only just have 15 minutes to get completely ready and, more importantly, get sober.

You do a strange mix of stumbling and running to your kitchen grabbing at anything to fill your stomach. You by some miracle manage to successfully make a (maybe slightly too full) bowl of milk and a cup of coffee. You chug the coffee, burning your tongue in the process and you cool it down by chugging your cereal. You look at your phone, 4 minutes have passed. You jump up off your chair and run blindly back to your bedroom stopping only to glance at your face in the mirror of your bathroom and cringe at the streaks of last nights makeup still on your face. Running into the bedroom you desperately look around for the outfit that you had prepared for today, you had kept it in the same spot for a week making sure that it wasn’t in the wash and unavailable to wear today. You look in the spot, now covered in underwear, a scarf and 3 unknown lipsticks probably exchanged in the womens restroom at the bar last night. Underneath it all...the deep green suit you had planned for today! Thank god!

You throw it on and run back to the bathroom, knocking over an array of furniture on the way, grabbing around for your makeup remover and a cotton pad. You desperately wipe at your eyes, not really caring if every bit is wiped off just wanting the giant streaks of sleep-covered makeup gone. You get most of it off, leaving only slight traces of eyeliner and mascara right in your lash-line and practically jump on your makeup bag, trying to check the time at the same time. Sadly your phone had run out of battery at some point while you were attacking your face. “Ah, fuck it!” you mutter as you just chuck it at your bag, thinking that you’ll just have to go without a phone today and that you’ll charge it later. With shaky hands you draw on your eyeliner as precisely as possible, at the end feeling proud that you only fucked it up twice and that they weren’t even that noticeable. You then run to the door, grabbing your bag, vaguely grabbing inside it to make sure you felt your money, your keys, your slightly crumpled resume and your dead phone and run out the door, hoping that there was a taxi just waiting out there. As expected, there wasn’t one. You have no choice but to wait. The minutes pass like hours until finally, just when you were about to give up and start running towards the nearest bus stop (which is 10 minutes away and is twice the journey time) a yellow taxi peeled around the corner at the highest speeds. You wave to it desperately and luckily it screeches to a stop. You climb in and almost yell the address at the driver, you didn’t want to be rude, you were just so desperate.

As soon as your body settled down in the back seat, you started to feel rather dizzy and like you were going to pass out. You try to breathe deep to calm yourself down but it just kinda makes you suddenly nauseous so you resolve to just looking out the window to distract yourself.

As you watch the people and cars zooming past you try to remember what your uncle told you when he said that he got you this interview. “The man who’s going to be interviewing you is named Joaquin Phoenix, you will address him as Mr. Phoenix. You need to tell him about your college, your high school, the two other jobs you’ve had, how long you’ve had them, the fact that you haven’t been fired or reprimanded in the 2 years that you have had those jobs. Don’t get too sappy or tell him about your possible eviction due to your now ex dropping financial support, that will probably just make him think that you’re making it all up because it all seems to sad and ridiculous to be true. He’ll think you’re just trying to work off of his sympathy and will probably not take it well.” You sigh, although you hated how strictly he said it, you knew it was true, and you need this job.

After you broke up with them, you lost everything. They had helped you with taxes, they helped move and put together all your furniture, they were there for you when your father passed away, in fact, they had been with you for the better part of four years. Losing that broke you, physically, mentally and financially. You weren’t mooching or anything, you had your two jobs to pay for most of the bills, and they had their job. They just always helped when you were a couple hundred short, one time even a whole thousand short. This happened practically every month, being a barista and waitress didn’t pay as much as you expected, but they never minded. They always payed the amount, but then they would guilt-trip you. Forcing you to do things that you didn’t want to do because of their false sense of you “owing them” due to how much time and money they had spent on you. Sometimes you weren’t in the mood to “mess around”, sometimes you were too socially anxious to go to a party, sometimes you were just busy with your two jobs to spend every second of your day with them, but they didn’t care. You owed them these things and if you said no, they would threaten to not help you pay next month, or guilt you by bringing up your dad’s death. Both hurt just as bad and they knew this. They wanted to make you get in trouble at work, by making you not go, so you’d lose your job and have to depend on them more but they never succeeded. Although they had manipulated you in so many other ways, they never affected your work ethic. You knew that you needed to be there every day and no matter how much they guilt-tripped you and sent you text after text, voicemail after voicemail, threat after threat, you stayed at work. Once you got home you would fight and fight and scream and cry, they would yell at you, then as soon as you yelled, made their voice calm and condescending, making you seem like you were crazy.

Sometimes, you would even believe it yourself, but 2 weeks, 14 hours and 25 minutes ago, you didn’t bend, you kicked them out and called your mother, uncle and oncle (the uncle on your mothers side was gay and married a french man that you called oncle because that’s uncle in French) and they stayed over that night, with you crying and sobbing, and with them supplying you with chocolate, vodka and no phone. Your mom kept your phone from you like she had done when you were a child, and you’re glad she did, you surely would’ve called them and gotten back together and gotten back to being manipulated.

Since then, your mother, uncle and oncle had been visiting you one by one, checking up on you, making sure you were doing alright. The first night that they hadn’t done this was last night, the night that you went out, got shitfaced, came home, got more shitfaced and destroyed the house. It was the worst night for them to not check up on you, but you didn’t blame them. It was getting old to them, or maybe they were busy, maybe they just thought you were already over it. You weren’t obviously.

You were so deep in thought that you barely heard the taxi driver say “we’re here.” He was patient but he definitely wanted to get paid sometime today so to grab your attention he raised his voice a tad “We’re here ma’am!” You snapped out of it and looked out the window, you were here. You blushed, embarrassed and hastily thanked the taxi driver, paid for the ride and ran out towards the tall silver building in to the left of the car. The quick jump from sitting to running, though, made you reel and you almost fell onto the pavement when you suddenly stopped in mid-air. It took a moment to realize that someone had grabbed you and held you up before you made your face a pavement-pancake. You looked up, it was a man with silver hair, he had a medium sized beard, quite close to his face, not clean-shaven but not a lumberjack beard. Somewhere between there. He wore a shirt, tie and zip-up sweater. Kinda strange but nice-looking. His eyes were a lovely bright green in the morning light but they were so light you at first thought that they were silver. He held you close, with genuine concern written all over his face. “Are you okay, Miss?” His voice was sweet and gravely, and you felt the vibration of his vocal cords run from his chest, through you like a warm shower, slow and comforting.

You had kinda zoned out for a second, and suddenly realized what had happened, what situation you were in and how embarrassing it was. Your face became hot and stung, like as if you had instantly gotten a sunburn. You tried to stand up but your legs did not seem to want to cooperate. Instead of planting on the ground, steady and firm, to support your body weight, your legs decided to just kinda flop about like fish out of water, desperately trying to find the ground. They finally did and you wobbled up, standing, facing him embarrassed out of your mind.

He was patient and held you tight in case you fell again, “It’s okay, I’m here.” Why did he have to say that? Tears welled up in your eyes and the urge to hug this stranger became overwhelming. “Are you okay? What happened?” He asked as the tears fell down your face, worried that he had said something wrong. You started sobbing now, “I’m-I’m fi-i-i-ine..” you said between sobs, “I...[sniff]...I just had a bad morning...[sob] and-and now...I’ve got a job interview here right now and...and...I need this job but...I-I can’t do it!” At this point you were both sitting in the ground in front of each other, him still holding you and listening. “Keep going, I’m here for you” He pressed on, trying to get you to talk more. For an hour you both sat there with this stranger, you telling him everything and him listening carefully. Not really giving any opinion of his own yet, just asking questions to make you tell him more, tell him about how you felt, what you did next, what you remembered in the moments. Slowly at first, you started to feel better. The more you talked, the less you cried, the less you cried, the more you noticed about this man and how handsome he was, he had a small line on his lip, it was hard to see at first through his moustache but you noticed. Maybe it was a scar? You also noticed his teeth as he asked questions, not straight but not completely crooked. Yellow, he was either a coffee drinker, a smoker or both. His fingers were tobacco-stained, he was a smoker. His eyes were perfectly lined with long lashes, giving another layer of beauty to this man’s face. The more you noticed, the more you wanted to know about him. Life went so slow and sweet with him.

You finished everything that you had to say, finally calm and content. He quietly turned his head and furrowed his brow, processing everything you said. He stayed this way for about 5 minutes. You didn’t mind though, it just meant you could simply watch him and forget everything else in life. After a while he spoke, slowly and carefully, choosing each word as if it was the most important decision of his life. “Wow...that is definitely a whole lot to go through in one lifetime. I understand what it’s like to lose someone, I lost both my father and my brother. My brother died of an overdose right in front of me and I lost my father to cancer in 2015. I have no idea what you will need to heal...but for me, I chose to create. I overworked myself at times, hurt the people I love, I came close to giving up at times, but I kept going. Lots of people tell you to never look back but...I find that looking back sometimes can help you heal. You need to look back to know where you came from. The important thing is to not do that forever, otherwise you’ll never move forwards. You seem to have been overworking yourself, both with your work and your relationship. The man, that you were going to have an interview with...he’s me.”

Your stomach dropped. You had completely forgotten about the interview. The words of your uncle repeated in your head. “Don’t get too sappy...that will probably just make him think that you’re making it all up...he’ll think you’re just trying to work off of his sympathy and will probably not take it well.” You instantly drop your gaze and lower your head, ashamed and unbelievably worried. “I’m so sorry Mr. Phoenix, I made it so you weren’t working. I told you everything about my life. I promise you it’s all true and I swear I didn’t try to play off of your sympathy...I had no idea you were...” You glanced up, meeting his gaze. He looked profoundly confused and not at all angry. You blushed beet red and looked down again in apology. You sat there for a couple minutes, tears forming again, blurring your vision. Then something slowly reached for your face. As the tears fell off your eyelashes and landed on your leg, you saw that it was his hand, he slowly placed his pointer finger under your chin and gently pushed your head upwards. You complied and lifted your head, completely ashamed and met his gaze again. What took you completely aback was, that he was smiling at you. “Miss Y/N...I never thought that. I actually was supposed to have time-off during the time of our interview but your uncle is very good at convincing people.” You both laughed at this, for it was indeed true “So I wasn’t kept from work. Finally, I’d be more surprised if your life story wasn’t true, I would say that you’re an amazing actress if that was the case. I know that everything you’ve said has been true, I could even tell that quite a bit was wrong as soon as I saw you left the taxi. It all made sense as soon as you said it.” You smiled at him. You had only just met him that day but you already felt so comfortable around him. Was this love at first sight?

“Well, now that we are properly acquainted, do you want my number so we can make another interview time or maybe even...to go get a coffee?” You blushed again, getting your phone out of your bag, forgetting that it had run out of battery. You cursed at yourself, you should’ve just let it charge. “I’m sorry, but my phone is out of battery...do you have a charger?” “No, I don’t on me...do you want to come over and charge it?” You nodded, unable to speak because you were so flustered and walked with him to his car, excited to see where this day would go.

PS Hey! This is my first FF! I hope whoever reads this likes it and if you want to request a fic or if you want to give tips on writing FFs I'll happily write any FF or take any advice.

[galos-writing]

Quills - Riddle of Time (ch.2)

Summary: Charenton hides hundreds of secrets, and so every person in there do.

Part 1 is here

----

-Mama, when can I see her again?- I asked. I was happy.

-Honey, I don't think you two could meet for a long time.- mama replied, she was mad. Mama had never been so angry.

I stopped smiling. -Why not?!- I asked. Mama made me cry.

-No time for explanation, François, so don't insist. We have to move as quick as possible.-

I was going to ask "Why" again, but mama's bad gaze made me shut my mouth.

-Come with me.- she poured, as she took my hand and pulled me away.

-Mom, you're hurting me!- I shouted, and coughed. My throat burned such as hellfire, and my head hurts.

-Fafa!- a thin voice yelled far behind me. I turned and saw that little girl with her long, blonde hair, trying to reach me, but her father's arms were blocking her. I couldn't clearly see her, but I knew she was crying.

I yelled. But I don't remember what I was saying.

-Fafa! François!- she yelled again, her voice was louder and louder.

-François!- she yelled, one last time.

-François!-

The man inside that room joilted, as he woke up from a dream.

-Were you sleeping?- the Abbé du Maupas asked to him, looking at him through the peephole on the door. The man just shook his head, completely silent. The blonde priest smiled.

-Good, let me introduce our new nurse, dear. Say hi to Mademoiselle Chagall!- and looked at the woman. She raised herself on her tiptoes because that peephole was too high for her, but she still couldn't reach it. The Abbé seemed extremely embarrassed.

-Oh God, I'm so sorry, mademoiselle, I didn't mean to-- He gasped, so embarrassed, but in a way he was enjoying her being so small and struggling, quite adorable, and weak, she made him feel like protecting her. As he looked down, her slim legs made him feel like doing her something else...he shook his head, avoiding such impure thought.

-Don't worry, Abbé, I'm-I'm used to it...- she said, embarrassed as well, not noticing his gaze running along her body.

-I guess you should meet your patients closer, don't you?- he smiled, pretending nothing happened in his head, but couldn't help but caress her hair.

-I-It would be a pleasure...- she said, shyly smiling. The man suddenly got a little bit down to get closer to her. Lucille's cheeks turned a fiery red: he was too close!

-Be careful with him, Lucille, he's a...moody patient.- the priest whispered to her, his nostrils could feel her clean soapy scent. Lucille just nodded, her anxiety began to grow in her stomach. The man opened the door, and the girl went in, suddenly regretting her choice.

-Uhm, hi... Your name is François, isn't it...? What a cute name...- she shyly asked, her voice lowered more and more. She suddenly felt like she entered the cage of a lion.

He looked at her, his light eyes scared her even more.

He finally managed to speak.

-...yes.- he just murmured.

-C-Cool...- the girl muttered, trying to act as more natural as possible. -What's your full name?- she asked.

-...does it matter? I am here to be healed under the eyes of the Lord, I'm nothing to you.- he snarled, moving a lock of his long, greasy hair behind his ear, and trying to close his shabby tore up shirt.

-You're wrong, my dear. Anyone is valid, and anyone deserves love and care.- she explained, her fear disappeared.

François lowered his head, looking at the cold floor.

-Have you ever had a love? Someone you loved or someone who loved you?-

The patient looked at her, his eyes again filling up in tears, but he didn't cry. He looked at the floor again, and nodded.

-I had a love, once. She was a bride-to-be, and a chambermaid of this asylum. I didn't know her enough, since I discovered scandalous things about her. But despite this, I truly loved her, and she truly loved me. It was a forbidden love, though, and it made me suffer a lot.-

Lucille listened to him with attention, as her heart melted in pain for that suffering soul.

-May I ask you who she is?- she asked.

-You mean "Who she WAS"...-

-Did she move?- the nurse naively asked again.

-She's dead.-

The woman covered her mouth to keep a surprise gasp

A silent "Oh my God" escaped her mouth, though, and François managed to hear it.

-Lucille? Are you okay?- the Abbé the Maupas asked through the door, after having knocked.

-GO AWAY, YOU FILTHY BASTARD!- François yelled.

-I'm okay, Abbé, don't worry, I had the pleasure of meeting this gentleman.- Lucille gently said, and sweetly smiled at the patient.

-Don't "Abbé" him, he doesn't deserve that role.- François mumbled, maddened.

The blonde priest opened the door to let the nurse go out the cell.

-Let's go, Lucille, let's meet other patients.- the Abbé ordered, severely looking at the man behind the door. François threw himself on the hole of the door to give a last gaze to that woman. He looked like a kid who lost his parents, somehow

@winterjasmine007 @darknessisafriend @fly-like-a-phoenix