#hunchback of notre dame x reader
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
enterrandomname · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Welcome Gn and Male Readers!
Hello there! You may call me Morris. Before making a request, please make sure you had read below. And I do apologize for the grammar.
Fandoms:
Hannibal
Pokemon
The Hunger Games
The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes
Madness Combat
Star Wars
EPIC
Good Omens
Black Butler
Wii Deleted You
Obey Me
FNF
BATIM
The Arcana
The Hunchback of Notre-Dame
and more…
I will Write:
Platonic
Fluff
Romantic
Headcanons
Gender Neutral Reader
Male Reader
And more that is not labelled underneath..
I will NOT Write:
Rape
Incest
Pedophilia
11 notes · View notes
maluustrawberry · 8 months ago
Text
Undesirable encounter
(Claude Frollo X Female reader)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Synopsis: You were the new seamstress in Paris and Frollo suspects that you were harboring Romani in your shop. It looks like your first start was more tense than you expected...
A/n: I confess that I am in love with the Hunchback of Notre-Dame and I especially love the book. I hope you readers like it, and if you want to give me tips I accept (you can correct me too) If you want other Disney characters, you can ask me💕.
Part.2 (Final)
(Guys, I don't know if you know, but the word "gypsy" is a slur and should not be used, the correct one is "Roma" Or "Romani people" I put "Gypsy" only in Frollo's lines since you know the type of person he is.)
It was just another ordinary day in Paris, you had arrived in the city a few months ago and worked as a dressmaker. You immediately became known for the beautiful dresses you produced for the girls and the beautiful clothes for the boys too. You had an excellent aesthetic sense.
But what you had in the way of talent, you also had in the way of kindness. When you heard about the persecution of the Romani people, you felt touched by the situation and decided to help them. It was very risky, but you weren't going to stand by and let it happen like the other citizens of Paris were doing, letting themselves be manipulated by Frollo and his hate speeches. There was a basement in your house that you used to store fabric and sewing materials. You took advantage of that room to help some Romani hide in case of emergency if they were being chased by the guards and if there was no time to run to the court of miracles.
And so it went on, you were extremely careful not to leave any traces, until one day or another these "rumors" ended up reaching the judge.
You were sewing up the sleeves of a client's dress, which had been placed in the moulage to make it easier for you to work, and your attention now turned to the bell that rang as soon as the door was opened. Immediately, the atmosphere of the place changed when you saw who had entered. You knew those clothes, the face worn by age and you couldn't forget that look of superiority and pride, because himself thought he was important and better than everyone because of his opposition and faith. Looking behind those glass windows, you could also see some of his men at the front of the store:
“Bonjour, madame.” Frollo said sternly, snapping you out of your thoughts. That thick, authoritative voice gave you the creeps. “I'd like to know who owns this establishment. Your husband is here?”
“A-Ah! Good morning...” You forced a smile and stuck the needle into the moulage so you wouldn't lose it. “Your Honor, I'm the owner, and no, I don't have a husband.”
As you said this, the judge looked you up and down with contempt. Of course, in the 16th century, a young woman like you not being married was a disgrace to society, and on top of that, being able to read and owning your own business was even worse. You weren't tense or nervous with him in your store, on the contrary, you were so calm... After all, you cleaned out the basement and removed any evidence as soon as a family of Romani's moved out recently:
“I've received information that you've been harboring gypsies in your house and I'm here to find out the facts, have you been harboring gypsies?” He got straight to the point.
“No, sir.” You pretended to be as honest as possible, fortunately you were good at lying.
“You know that if you lie, the sentence for insubordination is death...” He moved closer in an attempt to intimidate her.
“My conscience is clear. You have permission to investigate my store, since my words don't apply to you.”
“If I wasn't allowed to, seamstress, I'd still make a point of searching this place from top to bottom, whether you agree or not.”
The older man signaled for some of his men to enter the store before you could protest or complain. Since you were the only one who seemed to have enough courage to go against the judge's ideas when you were right. They went in and started rummaging around for clues, looking everywhere, even under the skirts of the dresses on the mannequins.
Frollo looked you up and down in an nothing unobtrusive way, you didn't notice the glances, but as soon as you did, it gave you the creeps and you avoided looking back at him. He had never noticed you in the city before and he noticed your accent, deducing that you might be a foreigner. The judge couldn't take his eyes off you, you were a very beautiful woman and seemed so delicate, and it seems that some feeling awakened in him when he saw that you were without gloves and your dress showed your shoulders. He came out of his thoughts when a guard approached:
"Sir, we've looked everywhere and found nothing..." Being a clever woman, an idea came to your mind: perhaps it would be better if they looked at everything to leave you alone.
"Have you looked in my basement, gentlemen?" you asked, kicking the rug that hid the small door in the wooden floor of your store.
Frollo was suspicious, but sent his men in to search every corner of the small cellar. Fortunately, they didn't find anything either, just sewing materials and expensive fabrics. After looking around in vain, the men left the store, leaving you and the judge alone:
“I apologize for this inconvenience.” He said as you went to the moulage to finish the dress.
“You shouldn't believe every rumor out there, Your Honor, not all of them can be true.” You said politely. “but apologies accepted, I know it was for the good of Paris and you care a lot about the city.”
Returning to work, you thought he would leave after all that had happened and notice you "busy" sewing, but no, he stayed in the store while walking slowly around analyzing his surroundings:
“This basement...” He pointed to the carpet above the small door. “Why was it hidden?”
“I don't see the need to show everyone that I have a basement here.” You replied nonchalantly. “and besides, I think that old door would spoil the pretty look of my store.”
Frollo didn't seem to believe in that very much, but you shrugged and continued sewing. There were a few seconds of silence, you could only hear his footsteps coming towards you and could feel that man's gaze on you all the time, causing you a certain nervousness or fear. What did he want anyway?
“Do you want anything else?” you asked in an attempt to break the silence and take your mind off the discomfort of feeling his gaze on you, stopping your sewing and looking at him now.
“I just want you to know.” He said, standing close and looking at her with disgust. “I'll keep an eye on you, I won't trust a literate, single woman so easily... I know women of your kind.”
“I don't think who I am or what I do has anything to do with helping... Ouch!” You interrupted yourself with pain when you felt the needle pierce your finger. It was normal for this to happen when were working with sewing, but it had never been this deep, Maybe it happened because of the anger you was feeling at that moment.
Immediately you dropped the needle out of sheer instinct, and in a quick and daring moment Frollo grabbed your hand with a certain amount of force, bringing it in front of his face, which had a small smile of satisfaction on it. The judge was a sadomasochist, he enjoyed seeing someone in pain, especially when it was someone he thought deserved such a punishment. You were shocked by his attitude, you weren't expecting it and didn't know how to react. What was he doing? Frollo continued to hold your hand, watching the small drop of blood ooze from your pricked finger, but his attention wasn't just there, it was on your fingers, your soft skin and the sensation it brought when you touched it with the contact of the warm hand and his, which was a little cold:
“What are you doing?” You asked, with a bit of hatred for such a vulgar and daring attitude, and he laughed a little.
“What would the church think of a woman exposing her bare hands in front of a high-ranking man like me?” You had no reaction for fear. Gradually his fingers entwined in yours and you saw that his eyes went to your small cleavage and your bare shoulders. “And it's not just your hands that are exposed...”
You quickly pulled your hand free and he looked at you incredulously:
“My hands are only exposed because I can't wear gloves when I sew, and you still don't have the right to do that. It's in the Bible; If your eye or your hand causes you to sin, throw it away!” A small smile came to Frollo's face when he heard that.
“So bold... It's typical of women like you to turn away from guilt in order to confuse men's minds with pagan thoughts, but that doesn't matter any more...”
He walked away, heading for the door to leave, but first his attention turned to you:
“It was a nice chat, seamstress... I want you to make me a cloak and sew me a pair of gloves, I'll be expecting you to deliver them tomorrow night.”
After saying that, he left, leaving you with no reaction to what had just happened. You were angry, but at the same time relieved that he hadn't found out. As soon as he left, you stared at your hand, which he touched and intertwined with his large, thin fingers. You'd have to be more careful now, he'd be stalking you and the reason wouldn't just be because he suspected you of helping the Romani people, it would be because of something else and you know exactly what it was and what his intentions were...
End...
475 notes · View notes
seaslugfanclub · 9 months ago
Note
Hi I'm a big fan of yours and I really enjoy the villains and y/n interactions. Btw I want to ask what made frollo develop feelings for y/n.
Do Judges dream of park attendants?
(Frollo x Reader)
TW: description of Panic attacks
————————————————————————
Out of all the Disney villains brought to life by Disney, Frollo is having the hardest time. All of his beliefs, everything he had sacrificed in his life have been destroyed in an instant the moment he opened his eyes in this Infernal theme park
Frollo doesn’t actually believe he’s alive anymore, that the Disney parks is his divine punishment
Though deserved, everywhere he goes he’s ostracized and humiliated. His fellow villains love to single him out to needle him, especially Hades.
He’s so tight that if you shoved a piece of coal up his ass, two weeks later you’d get a diamond
It’s obvious in the film that his mental psyche is as fragile as communion wafers, and this has been amplified to 100 now that he’s in a completely unrecognizable reality.
He hasn’t slept in months, barley eaten (he excuses this as religious fasting) and rarely talks to others
The only person who tried to regularly interact with Frollo is that scrappy park attendant, (Y/N)…
Usually it’s quick conversations, greetings and goodbyes, “how are ya?”s, and sometimes brief smiles. Something that both disgusts and confuses Frollo, a strange prickling feeling in his cheeks whenever he makes eye contact with (Y/N)
Panic attacks have become a regular occurrence for Frollo, usually when the sensory nightmare of Disney parks get to much for him, although he usually isolates himself to avoid being so vulnerable
Most of the time Frollo’s able to keep his emotions in check until he’s alone, so most of his panic attacks come out at night
One night his episodes were really, really bad, everything Frollo had tried to hold in finally boiled over, leaving the ex-judge crumbled to the ground, frozen in terror.
He didn’t need a fireplace to feel the licks of flames on his skin, and no matter how hard he clenched his hands over his ears, Frollo couldn’t stop the chanting echoing in his head.
It felt like a lead weight was on his chest, and dark spots were crawling into his vision, threatening to pass out
Frollo was too lost in his own head, mumbling prayers to himself as the crackling of fire and chanting drowned out all sounds, even the light creaking of his bedroom door opening…
“Pr- preces meæ non sunt.. dignæ Sed- sed tu bonus fac benigne, Ne perenni cremer igne…. Pie Iesu Domine,Dona ipse requiem…. Preces meæ non—”
“Frollo?”
The feeling of a hand resting on his head broke Frollo out of his mumbling. Through blurry vision the ex-judge made out a figure crouching above him, their hand slowly petting his hair. The sensation of soft fingers on his hair felt grounding, with each stroke the flames began to lull…. Has an angel finally come to end his misery?
“Frollo? Are you alright?
The black spots around his vision began to subside, as his teary eyes cleared enough to see the worried face of (Y/N), the young park attendant. At any other point in time, Frollo would’ve flinched away from their touch, cursing them out for having the gall to lay their filthy hands on a holy man, but all of his senses had failed him, and their touch had quelled the flames and disembodied chanting around him.
Starving for any source of familiarity, Frollos trembling hands reached to clutch onto (Y/N)’s pants,
“Je ne peux plus faire ça— Je—”
“Frollo, please- I can’t understand you…” (Y/N) pleaded, at a loss at what to do with the pathetic man before them.
(Y/N) was finishing their shift for the evening, their final task was to check on each villain to make sure they were set for night. They were walking down the hall to check on Sher Khan when they heard a thump behind Claude Frollos door, wall muffling the sound of weeping. Knocking on the door brought to response, and worried that the old man might’ve actually fallen and couldn’t get up, (Y/N) slowly cracked open the door.
Instead of being immediately kicked out by the ex-judge, French curses thrown at them— they found Frollo slumped against his bed, mumbling latin to himself, his eyes a thousand miles away.
(Y/N) was at a loss, they had never seen Frollo this desperate, this deep into despair. Even when they watched the “Hunchback of Notre Dame” and his song “Hellfire” was he this vunerable. This was unfamiliar territory.
But panic attacks were familiar, especially with how to deal with them.
“Frollo? You’re alright… Your minds just working against you right now.” (Y/N) hummed, continuing to pet Frollos silver hair,
“Here, I’ll be right back,” gently removing Frollos hands, (Y/N) grabbed a spare glass from his nightstand before rushing into the bathroom. Turning on the sink faucet, they filled the glass with cold water then crouched below the sink to open the drawers. They grabbed neatly folded a face towel, a Mickey Mouse insignia embroidered in the corner— (Y/N) wet the towel, making sure that it was thoroughly soaked then grabbed the glass, walking back into Frollos room, the man still on the floor, pale face just watching (Y/N).
“Try to drink something, I know you might feel nauseous, but I promise this helps,” They offered the glass to Frollo, who continued to just stare at (Y/N). After a few seconds between them, He hesitantly reached out and took the water with shaking hands.
As he began to take small sips, the cold water cooled his throat, and he could feel the water cool his insides as he swallowed. The flames were dowsed.
“It’s already 11, you must be exhausted… I think it’s best to try and sleep. Don’t even worry about changing, just get comfortable. I always feel better when I lie down.”
Helping him up, they watched patiently as Frollo collapsed into his bed, not even bothering to pull up the sheets. As he lay on his back, he finally closed his eyes, only for them to open again when (Y/N) lifted his bangs to place the cold wash-cloth on his forehead. His pale cheeks prickling again at the feather light touch of (Y/N) fingers and the cooling sensation of the cloth on his skin.
“Uh— whenever I get an attack, anything cold helps me bring myself back to reality.. and uh, and a wet washrag stays cool for a while, I like to wash my face with it to feel refreshed.” (Y/N) offered quietly, having a difficult time maintaining eye contact with Frollo.
Frollo was at a loss, never— never has he been the subject of such care from another human before, not as a boy, not from the church, not even from his lord. How could he even react to this? It was all to much.
He was tired, mentally and physically, darkness beginning to overtake his vision again, but this time from pure exhaustion.
Risking it a final time, (Y/N) gave Frollos hair one last pet, “I’ll find a way to take you off schedule for the rest of the week, I wish I could get you months off… I��m sorry. But for now, get some rest ok?”
With a final smile, they turned to resume their rounds, already late to check up on the others, but before they could step away from the bed, a hand grasped their arm, stopping them.
Turning back around, they looked down at Frollos pleading face, an almost manic look in his eyes.
“Stay… please… at least until I’ve fallen asleep..”
With wide eyes, (Y/N) looked down at him shocked, before sighing.
“Of course.. try to rest now.” They relented, taking a seat at the foot of Frollos bed. The others could wait.
Silence fell over the two, (Y/N) waiting patiently as a good 15 passed. Just when they thought he had fallen asleep a whisper escaped him,
“mon ange..”
And with that, sleep overtook Claude, no longer able to fight off his exhaustion. Warmth enveloping him as he dreamt of feather light touches and scrappy park attendants.
————————————————————————
Sorry if this feels forced or too OOC 😅, I just love Frollo so much, and taking care of others is my love language. When I tell you I need this man whimpering—
Translations:
“Pr- preces meæ non sunt.. dignæ Sed- sed tu bonus fac benigne, Ne perenni cremer igne…. Pie Iesu Domine,Dona ipse requiem…. Preces meæ non”:
My prayers are worthless, Yet, good Lord, graciously grant that I be not burned up by the everlasting fire. Lord, all-pitying, Jesus blest, Grant myself Thine eternal rest.
“Je ne peux plus faire ça— Je—“:
I can’t do this anymore—I can’t—
“mon ange..”:
My angel..
460 notes · View notes
ctheathy · 11 months ago
Text
The Claim of an Operational Sin
Claude Frollo x Reader
Suggestive Oneshot
Tumblr media
Is this damn priest dilf energy or nah
Author's note: Have you ever disliked a villain so much you wanted to hate breed them and make them your bitch? Read this, cuz you can :)
You're one of the few ladies the tyrannical man has taken interest in. Something he'd refer to as being bewitched by those who are innocent. Intrigue driven by his own lustful desires similar to his captivation by the beautiful dancer, Esmeralda. But unlike her, you were certainly not as lucky preventing your imprisonment and attempting to escape the minister's grasp.
Frollo/Reader [Romantic Tendencies(???)]
[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]
Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :
!Female Reader! • Seductive/“Succubus” reader • Imprisoned reader • We're basically gonna be assaulting him WOOHOO • Threats • Reader is unfearful of death • Arousal • Teasing, but it's bordering on degradation • Desperation • Drooling/Salivating • Kissing • ...Leaking...iykyk • He's an old man who's never satisfied his primal desires, what did you expect • This entire fic and concept in general is TW worthy tbh-
I REGRET NOTHING ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
“...You are a bloody!” Frollo spoke sharply. Taking a deep breath as he looked at you with a bitter gaze. His eyes were cold now, a sour expression on his face. His eyebrows were raised, as if he was trying to control his anger. He was currently in front of you in one of the many dungeon cells underneath the Notre Dame. “... How long do you think you're going to be alive? If you keep acting like this.” He said, sounding almost like he was threatening you.
And despite his subtle warnings, you kept your time in the cell undisturbed, paying no mind to his little hissy fit. To the point it looked like you were straight up ignoring him, which only fueled his already angered state. Demanding you to not even think of not listening to him whenever he spoke. But in all honesty, his constant irritation was just getting you more entertained by the man. It was like watching a child throw a tantrum. Well. You were more than ready to show him that he picked the wrong lady. That your abduction was an easily regrettable decision for him. He was stuck here with you, not the other way around.
Grinning with anticipation, you leaned against the wall with a careless posture. You couldn't care less about what series of threats he had to offer. “Mhmm? Won't that something you should be worrying about as well? Lusting after women and harassing them for centuries can cause for quite the revolution, if I may” you were sneering with sarcasm. “The most recent victim has certainly been influential. Miss Esmeralda, was it? It’s difficult to control yourself, isn’t it~?” you mocked
“... Silence yourself!” He yelled in a half-angry, half-desperately demanding tone, something that noticeably made you laugh out loud. Frollo felt a hit of shame and embarrassment by the fact that you've taken note of him lusting after her. It was a sin ...he wasn't supposed to feel this way. And it was that gypsy who has bewitched him! Tainting his purity with her alluring words and movements. At least, in the minister's head it was, blaming a fairly innocent soul for his own shameful and unholy impulses.
“Many peasants have faced the consequences of the witches’ actions through either custody or death. So choose your words carefully.” trying to warn you and keep you in line, but your reaction would be ...unexpected. “So what? Everybody will die one day.” You glanced back up to the priest and cocked your head to the side. “Perhaps nature shall take its course in the next future for me too. Who knows? Which would be beyond fine with me” you murmured with yet another chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “But atleast now you still have somebody to turn to, wouldn't you say?” He noticed you sending him a wink of mockery, but was too baffled by your sudden statement.
The eyes of the minister widened, as he heard you say that. “You... You don't value your people's freedom. You... You don't care about your own existence." He gritted his teeth. You could practically see his temper exploding. He never understood how somebody could be so unflappable towards the idea of their own very demise. He felt like he had no control over you, which infuriated him greatly. Though you remained in a calm posture, a look of disinterest in your eyes as he felt the need to mention it. “Look," you began with a bit of attitude, unconcerned about how far you might be pushing him over the edge with your next few words.
“Don't treat your lustful motives as superior over what I lack. Eventually, natural selection shall take its course for all of us anyway. And I'll greet it with open arms as soon as the time comes” you half assed with a small smirk. But Frollo? He did not like that one bit, seething with rage as he snapped
“You don't care if nature takes its course, huh!? Well, I will be the one to take its course, if you will not! I am going to give it my best to make you suffer. I shall tear you down with my own hands.”
You took in his words, as your grin slowly started to expand a little the more he went into detail about his description of how exactly he was gonna take your life. You softly chuckled at his threat, hanging your head down as your hair was resting over your eyes, covering them up as you continued to giggle with pure amusement. “Awh..~” you glanced up at the man once again, some of your teeth exposed with your grin as your eyes were smugly half lid. You readjusted your hand as you gently, yet firmly grabbed him by the jawline, placing your thumb right under his chin as you pressed his skin. “It is truly adorable how undeniably obsessed you are with me. Do you clop to the idea of hurting me too?”
You curled up your index finger as it caressed Frollo on his cheek, your little smirk becoming smaller, but still being very visible nonetheless. “I'm quite flattered, my sweet~” your prying eyes were full of glee as you fluttered your lashes, attracting the man even further if that was even possible. You took a step even closer towards him, your chest almost pressed onto him as you got further into his personal space, so inviting...
And oh dear God. Everything you just said... Your smirk, your stance. It didn't take a genius to figure out that you were attempting to seduce him. You were trying to provoke him. And it was working. “H-hngh..!?” Frollo's breathing grew shallow. Every muscle in his body was starting to tighten in exasperation. He was shaking in anger. That's right. He was angry- so unbelievably, extraordinarily angry. But, he was also... Tempted.
And though his body was noticeably still somewhat stiff, you did not miss him beginning to melt into your touch, despite the obvious death stare in his eyes. He was so easily affected and getting worked up by your shenanigans, it was almost cute. Almost. You smirked to yourself as your soft fingers continued to tease his facial features. You were completely leaning into him at this point, both breasts squished onto him as you kept the eye contact with assertion.
Your free hand even wandered over towards the back of his neck, your fingers gently digging into his spine as you rubbed them up and down, but slowly beginning to add more pressure. “You seem to be making yourself comfortable with me quite swiftly, minister...” you stood on your toes to add on height and match his level, “Is that something you enjoy? Making quick development instead of taking things slowly~?” Frollo's heart literally started beating faster. The way you were saying these things. It was so very seductive. And your finger that was caressing him? You... A-Ah...
“H-How dare you!” His tone sounded so frustrated, like he was trying to hide something. Something he wouldn't want you to find out. You could practically see the rage in his eyes, but the way you spoke? And the way you got so close to him, you could practically feel his anger, his resentment, slowly melt away. His head started to turn red, as he gritted his teeth. He really couldn't take it, you had completely caught him in your trap. And you did that so... effortlessly.
It made him feel weak and submissive, a foreign feeling to the priest. You were completely dominating him. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. You made him vulnerable. You got into his... frozen and rock cold heart. You were in control now, and he was just so very powerless to your charms. His entire body was beginning to tremble. His breathing, it was slowly getting quicker and more shallow. It almost felt- the way you touched him, with such delicate care. The way you were teasing him like this. His entire body was starting to feel so hot. He felt the blood surging, pumping him up, preparing him for something he didn't dare to acknowledge.
And being less vigilant, he admitted to his thoughts much more easily. “It... astonishes me... when you... make me lose control” He said, the tone in his voice being a mix of anger and lust. Of desire. Of passion. Words that you hadn't really expected. You'd never guessed for a response like this. It was so sensual. He was clearly losing control now. The way he had just admitted to you that he was enjoying this? It felt as if he was a man on a chain. And you were the one holding it.
This was not supposed to be happening. Not like this. Frollo was... He was tempted. He was extremely tempted. He did not want to be tempted! He did not want to be lured by your feminine allure and your seducing gestures! Why. Why were you seducing him!? He was supposed to kill you, not fall for your antics dammit! He was literally getting flustered now, much to his embarrassment. And the way you pressed your body against his, as if trying to get as close as physically possible? It was really, REALLY making him nervous.
“Don't... you even DARE ...think that I am enjoying this! I... I am simply attempting to ...to” he began to trail off, unable to even think straight. And the more he was trying to desperately deny your claims, the more amused you became with the show. Without warning, you took another step forward and pressed your hips against him... pinning him with one of your thighs. Both of your bodies rubbing on one another as you adjusted your position again. Wanting to see just how hollow his words actually were.
And now he was definitely flustered. And you could tell. His breathing hastened, and he was literally going bright red. Frollo was trembling. And the fact that you could sense just how aroused he was, just made it worse. Because... Your intimate areas were rubbing against his, and there was not a single inch of space between the two of you. “S-Stop... this, you... Y-You witch..!”
His eyes widened as soon as you stepped into him further. You were just getting as intimate as could be. Your thighs and hips were rubbing against him. And it was making him... He was literally drooling now. Frollo was speechless. And he literally was making a mess out of himself. Like... He looked like a fool! One of the most dangerous people in the country, was... drooling... His mouth was open slightly, looking like he was going to say something. But instead, he closed his mouth shut again, and looked almost ashamed. As if he had been caught doing something humiliating.
Your eyes just lit up at the sight while you showed off your teeth with a shit-eating grin, confirming how amused you were by the situation. You tried making yourself even taller than before, as if trying to take away his confidence height-wise as well. You were having this heart-to-heart exchange with him face to face. Your face now literal millimetres away from his, intimidating.
But then you did something that caught him off guard, as you licked off the saliva that was dribbling down his mouth. Your tongue firstly stroking his spit-covered chin before seductively brushing it up to the crook of his mouth where the running drool started. But your tongue quickly wandered to his upper lip, sending a shock right through his veins. Your warm and sweet tongue began teasingly brushing left and right over the entrance of his lips, attempting to pry them open for a good three seconds before pulling back. You glanced at him right in the eye again, a cheeky glint in your eyes. “Aww, you poor man~ He almost spilled..~ Are you actually gonna soil yourself in front of me?” you purred with a tease.
As soon as you started licking the drool off of his lips, He got an electrical shock. A wave of pure nervousness and tingles running down his veins. The blush on his cheeks was getting redder, and you could hear his heartbeat. The saliva that was dropped, got licked up by you. You were staring at him so seductively. A warm, sweet feeling, of just pure ecstasy was flowing through his body.
And the way you were so close to him. You really were an actual princess. Or the queen of sin, rather. He looked like he was about to just collapse. Frollo... His wide eyes were now looking at your lips when you pulled back, and you could see the desire in them. And when you licked the saliva from his lips... He almost- almost let out a moan. He was literally about to melt away.
The priest's entire face flushed a deep, deep red. His blush was... it was so obvious to you, along with the fact that he was salivating at this. But the fact that you licked it off...? You could practically see his entire world begin to break down, right after that. You didn't just break his walls down. You obliterated them. He didn't know what to say. You were just... Ah, God. so, so cruel.
The way you did just that. The way you licked it. It was... Oh, heavens. You would be an absolute demon in bed. He blinked, shaking his head and basically still drooling all over himself. Damn it. What in the world.
“You... You b-bitc-... Yo-... wh-” He couldn't get a word out. He was too stunned. All of the blood in his body seemed to be rushing down to his cheeks at once. And he could feel a warm liquid start to soak into his undergarments. Yes. That thing, the thing that he desperately didn't want to get hard. He clenched his jaws shut, as he started to sweat. He didn't know how to react or respond. You were playing with him at this point. You could practically see the steam rising off of his head. And he could feel the liquid seeping into his cloth.
This whole situation was just mortifying to Frollo, both for his reputation and pride. He tried to take a step back, but he was getting too caught up in his own... reaction, to realize he had his back pressed against the wall in here. He could feel his breathing getting heavier. And just his reaction of shock was more than enough to keep you going, as your hand clung to the back of his neck, your fingertips digging into his flesh again. “I can’t help but wonder what other places are getting hot and moist for me” you purred with a mischievous chuckle, leaning in close to his face once again.
“I recommend you stay in line” you murmured with a sense of warning as you took his bottom lip between your teeth, the tip of your canine pressing into it. Your hot and damp tongue came in contact with it as you pressed it against his parted lips, teasingly tracing it against the entrance of his lips but never actually going inside his mouth... Smearing your saliva over the base of his lips, while you seductively sucked his bottom lip, just watching how long he could keep it up before losing his sense of self control
His body was quaking. His frame was like a leaf in the wind. He was being absolutely manhandled. The way you nibbled his lip, you were making his legs go weak. There were no words. There were just... sounds. Sounds coming from his throat, as the heat and moisture inside him really began to build up. The way you continued to use your tongue. The way you continued to play with his lip like a cat with a ball of yarn. It felt like this was never going to end. And he... his moans. You could hear his voice. Those soft moans, that were only for you to hear. He was losing focus, and he did not care. His body getting wet. And it was all your fault. You were doing this to him. You were teasing him, playing with him like a puppeteer.
His lips were now opening up for you. His mouth inviting. Something which made your eyes darken with glee as you got the ultimate invitation from him. Not hesitating for any second thoughts. Your tongue slowly wandered in and began brushing against his inner lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having your tongue deep into the back of his mouth. You pressed it in further, going slightly deeper as you rubbed your tongue against his gum tissue. Before reaching the inferior labial frenulum, as you teasingly slid your tongue over it. And that... that was an especially loud moan, coming from a person like Frollo, who's usually calculated and reserved. Reserved on that level, as it was clear he was enjoying this right now.
He was being completely seduced and he didn't care. His vocal groans were beginning to fill the room. The way your tongue was exploring his mouth... It was sending shivers down his spine. His eyes widening as he felt himself start to become damp. Your hand, wrapped around the back of his neck with your fingers pressing into his flesh. He liked how you were being so rough and so dominating at the moment. But your comment, about his other... moistened areas. He felt a hot liquid rushing through his body as he thought about it, as if he was being cooked alive.
He was just completely, utterly, and miserably lost in you. His eyes were staring at yours, with that warm glaze of lustful desire. And he was letting his inner demons play with his soul. They weren't being suppressed anymore. They were getting out, completely free. He was struggling to keep himself from just giving into you. He was almost tempted to just... get on the bed, and invite you on top of him. His lips were now completely split apart. His mouth was inviting you to go in deeper. To do whatever you pleased. The tip of his tongue was inviting you. And you could practically taste his wet tongue. His breath was starting to falter. The way you rubbed against his gums, the movement was so perfect and experienced. Frollo's entire body felt hot and wet. And it was making him want more. So much more.....
You could definitely tell he was getting desperate. His tongue eagerly and impatiently begging for it to intertwine with yours. He wanted your tongue at the back of his throat... And feeling eager, he desperately began to lick at you, desperate to taste you. And wanting to feed into that desperation, you began moving your tongue up and down, making the tip of his tongue rub over yours. Right before your tongue began wandering, slipping it flat on top of his. You slowly began pressing your tongue to the back of his throat, using his tongue as a guide as you slid it down to his tonsils, rubbing them. Sometimes pulling back for just a few seconds before teasingly sliding it down again, keeping him needy for more.
He was practically begging for it by now. His mouth was literally begging for your tongue to get deeper. But you were just teasing him so hard, and that's what was making this so hot. The way your tongue was moving, it was like a damn tongue dance. And you were playing the damn instrument that was his mouth perfectly. Teasing his tongue, nibbing at it and just being absolutely filthy with him. His mouth was just yours now.
You were literally eating him, was the only thing Frollo could think. He couldn't help but groan out as soon as your tongue went deeper inside his mouth, sliding alongside his own tongue. Your warm, wet tongue was rubbing against the sensitive skin in there, and you were teasing his mouth. You were making him melt. You were... making him weak. His neck and back started to arch involuntarily. The way you slid it down his throat as it touched his tonsils... The priest's body was starting to jerk. His eyes went blank, as he let out moans and gasps. It felt like you were controlling his mind and body, and that only made him feel even more desperate and in need of you.
Frollo was in a trance, practically. You were just so tempting. So delicious. His voice was turning into pure moans as he opened his mouth, letting out the sound of a beg. It was as if he was trying to say he wanted it. That this was what he wanted. His jaw was opened, his hands were hanging limp besides his body, behaving so submissively. The minister, who had been feared by everybody around him, was just completely done for.
You pulled back for a bit, as he moaned out in relief. A string of saliva now connecting your tongue with his mouth. “Don't go rabid on me now. You've been wanting this for a long, long time, hmm?” you teased him as one of your hands travelled towards his chin, before you started pressing your thumb into his mouth. You pressed your finger on his tongue, sliding it further to the back of his throat, threatening to make him gag if he disobeyed and forcing his jaw open even further. “Be a big boy and open up wide for me..~” you purred with a sadistic giggle, tempting him by sticking out your tongue.
There was no way out of this. His expression now completely rearranged from frustrated, to a look which was flaring with excitement. He was literally sweating. In one move, you had basically turned him from an egotistical man, into your own personal toy at your disposal. You owned him. Even when he got some of his control back when you moved your mouth away from him, he didn't wanna stop what you were doing. He was just hopelessly addicted to you, His brain was you. Nothing BUT you.
“You're playing under my rules now, minister.”
And he was just another piece of your collection to satisfy your needs.
790 notes · View notes
svaints · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
791 notes · View notes
montimer · 9 months ago
Text
Claude Frollo x Knight!reader
Gn!reader, oneshot
Warning: smutty but i'll put a line where it starts
Tumblr media
You were his loyal knight. He trusted you deeply. And you never disobeyed him or even hesitated about any of his request.
He loved you for your loyalty and how brave you were. There was just this one problem. He didn't just admire you for those quality's. He got lost in your eyes and the way you smiled at him rather often.
A smug smile always formed on his lips whenever you replied with a "Yes sir!"
And when your attention was on someone else, well it made him very upset. Especially if you looked happy talking to the person who wasn't him.
But he refused the idea of being in love. 'No there is just no way, i must be wrong' he told himself.
He found himself thinking about you at late nights. At first it was just him worrying. But soon he started to rewind memories. Memories about you talking to him, smiling at him, calling out to him.
'This is all their fault' he thought to himself. 'You're the reason i can't get any sleep' he complained.
Earlier in the afternoon he couldn't stop staring at you and when you pointed it out he said that you are falsely accusing him. Which you responded with a "Im sorry sir. It's just that you look tired, is everything alright?"
He stared at you unblinking for a second (which kind of spooked you out). "I just- had a problem with the fireplace, yes yes thats it" he said it strangely but not enough for you to suspect anything. Plus you didn't wanted to question the judge anymore.
"I see, well if there's anything i can help with, you know where to find me" you said it smilingly with a wink. You didn't mean anything by it, just wanted to seem nice but he almost choked on the air.
He didn't said anything, and after coming back to reality he quickly gave you a nod.
'He probably didn't get much sleep' you thinked.
"Well im off! Hope ur majesty sleeps well tonight." And with that you jumped on your horse and he watched you until you disappeared.
Back to the present he was still wide awake. He wished he could just finally sleep and get a good rest.
After moving around for a couple of more seconds he found himself in a comforting position. And soon after finally fall asleep.
_______________________________
In his dream, even there you couldn't leave his mind.
Plus you were laying so close to him. And your hands roamed around his body, complimenting him, asking him if it feels good.
"Oh Judge, you are the greatest" you said it seductively, stroking his ego (and his body)
He couldn't respond, only moans and whimpers came out of his mouth.
Your hands find their ways to his private area and he felt his heart skip a beat.
He was a blushing mess at this point.
Your voice, your hand, your beauty was making him go crazy. How could he not give in?
Your figure took his face in their hands and pulled him in for a kiss. When you pulled away he was trying to catch his breath. He never felt this good before. He never wanted to give in to lust, to sin. But here he is, letting you take control.
His hands moved to touch you but you grabbed them and pinned him down. Now on top of him.
"I saw the way you were staring at me, taking a like to me huh sir?"
He was not sure how long he can handle this for.
He didn't quite know what or how to but he wanted some sort of release from the pleasure.
You started kissing his neck and nibbling on it. He felt something rush trough him.
He woke up and sit up fast, still panting, his face all red.
He felt a strange feeling in his pants. Little did he know he just had a wet dream.
After that he felt very embarrassed but also interested. He couldn't look you in the eye that day. He just stared at you, turning away with a slight blush when you looked at him.
But now he knew, that no matter what. He has to make you his.
'They will be mine, even if it takes for me to act a sin. It's their fault anyways, they must knew what they were doing to me, with the way they talk,act, and smile my way' he told himself many times.
And the judge does not give up so easily. So it's all on you. Will you go the easy or the hard way?
242 notes · View notes
yinyangyandere · 8 months ago
Text
💔 Gone, But Not Forgotten ll Disney Villain HCs💔
Synopsis; 'How Scar, Frollo, Jafar, Hades, Hook, and Ursula would react to their s/o losing someone close to them'
ll Caution: Discussions of death, somewhat of a vent
A.N.; Man, first post on this blog and it's something sad. What a way to start this whole thing. In any case, I wanted to make a small "vent-imagine" as my own grandmother passed away today. I won't get into too much detail, but I find solace in thinking about my favorite characters helping me during all of this. Sorry if anything's OOC; I'm not the best at writing, and even if these are just headcanons, I still apologize if there's some mischaracterization I accidentally did. But, I hope you enjoy. Have a great day!
ll SCAR ll
Tumblr media
Admittedly, he’d be rather standoffish about the subject at first. He’ll still be there beside you as you grieve, but he’s more at a loss of words than anything.
Scar disliked his father, so he didn’t feel too much grief when King Ahadi died protecting the Pride Lands. If anything, he felt more resentment towards him since, with his dying breath, Ahadi had given the title of king towards Mufasa.
However, even if they were distant at times, his affinity towards his mother, Queen Uru, was more apparent. They were more close together, and while he’d never actually say it out loud, her eventual death of old age tore through him. So, in that aspect, he does somewhat understand your pain.
He’ll be more quiet as you process everything, but he’d still offer some words of understanding to you.
If you cry in the attention of others, he won’t do close PDA; he’ll wrap his tail around you and sit close to you though. But if you two are alone, he’ll wrap a paw around you and gently bring you over to do the lion version of a hug.
If you’re okay with it, Scar will give you several licks and allow you to weep in his mane. Even if he may dislike the prospect of dirtying his special source of pride, he’ll allow it for you alone.
“Life is often unfair, but we must keep pushing on. If not for your sake, then let it be for their’s.”
/// ✨ ///
ll FROLLO ll
Tumblr media
Out of all the villains, Frollo probably handles what you're going through the best.
Thanks to it being around the 1400s, people passing away were definitely more common, so he was used to any grief you display and assure you that it's alright to cry.
Due to his job of being a figurehead of the Church, he is accustomed to death in general and, while he doesn't officiate the funerals of every single citizen of Notre Dame, he'll gladly do your loved ones.
In fact, he'd probably find a way to be the priest for the funeral even if you were hesitant. Frollo is both persuasive and assertive at once.
It would be a standard, if not slightly more sophisticated, Catholic funeral. Knowing him it would be a burial rather than something like cremation. Otherwise he would probably say some shit like "And send them down to brimstone and fire?! No, they shall be buried and that's final."
Of course, his stony expression doesn't waver before and after the funeral. Though, deep down, he's worried for you. He knows that, after losing someone close to you, you are capable of spiraling down into depression and…the chance of losing you.
He’ll be clingy for a little while, subtle enough for you to not catch attention but enough to make others raise a slight eyebrow.
“My Lord, please watch over my love, for they are currently weak and vulnerable. Allow me to protect them no matter the cost.”
/// ✨ ///
ll JAFAR ll
Tumblr media
Jafar’s much like Frollo in how he approaches the situation. On the inside, while he’s truthfully more grateful about the prospect of your attention being more on him in the future, he’s still concerned for your well-being and does wish to help you in any way he can.
He may be a bit overprotective of others coming near you during all of this. God forbid someone, peasant or otherwise, makes fun of you for any reason. It doesn’t matter if they taunt you over you weeping or anything else, he will have their head. Not even to aid him in any magic or sacrifices he tries to do. He’d probably just feed their body to pigs or something.
In normal circumstances, Jafar adores teasing you. However, he’s sensible enough to know not to do so with the problem at hand. While he misses the comebacks you would snap back at him, Jafar would rather not potentially hurt your feelings. He’ll be glad to wait until you feel better.
Remember what I said before about him being grateful for the possibility of your attention being focused more on him from now on? If he notices you’re upset after a while, he decides to shove his pride a bit to make you happy. He asks if, when he’s able to become Sultan, you would be alright with the idea of him actually resurrecting your loved one.
If you say yes, he’ll actually be honest about it. After the Genie grants him his first two wishes, especially the sorcerer one, it will be done post-haste for your sake. If Genie tries to dissuade him from it, Jafar’ll make “the blueberry-pasted moron” zip his trap.
Whether you say yes or no, you’ll ask him how he could do that. After all, despite still being able to do some sorcery, subjects like necromancy are still foreign to him. In response, he’ll grin and say back to you:
“For you, I would remake the world to suit your vision with no qualms. For you, dearest flower; I would do anything for you.”
/// ✨ ///
ll HADES ll
Tumblr media
When you tell him the news, crying all the while, Hades would look confused at you for a second.
“Uh, doll? You know who you’re talking to, right?” Oh.
If you ask him if that’s even allowed or not, Hades would laugh and give you a wide smile. Like he cares about “rules” or what not. It’s his Underworld to reign over, not anyone else’s.
He’ll fish out their soul and allows you to see them. It’s a heartfelt reunion, and as both of you cry in happiness, Hades would be standing off to the side like 🧍. 
If both of you agree to it, he’ll also allow your loved one to come back to life as well. If they were old when they died, he’ll make them younger and healthier as a bonus.
He can’t stand mushy-stuff, but he refuses to see you in sadness or in pain. A tad bit of jealousy aside, Hades knows this will make you fall further in love with him. As if you weren’t already head-over-heels for the smug bastard before…
“C’mon, babe. No need to thank me. Go have fun or whatever; just don’t tell Zeus. Guy’s a killjoy!”
/// ✨ ///
ll CAPTAIN HOOK ll
Tumblr media
Not going to lie, if you tell him about the situation and start crying, he would join in with you. He may be a pirate but he’s not completely heartless.
While you grieve, Hook would be there for you every step of the way. And if he’s there for you, so is the rest of the crew. You’d be pampered and spoiled, anything to show he’s here to help whenever you ask for it.
He’d probably be the type to try and get your mind off of it. Looking out at sunsets, going through collected treasure, sharing stories (especially ones that he knows you would laugh at), that sort of thing. 
Even if he’s in front of his crew, Hook will give you the best comforting hugs. If you’re feeling sad, just resting your head on his shoulder with his soft, fluffy hair would be enough to soothe you.
When you two are alone, he’ll quietly sing gentle songs to you, far different from the usual sea shanty he’d parade about. If you begin to cry, he’ll wipe away the tears falling down your face (of course making sure his hook doesn’t cut you) and urge you closer to him.
Definitely the sweetest out of all the villains.
“Look up at the stars, love. See how many there are? Know that, one of them, is your loved one. They’ll always be there to guide you on the darkest nights, even if you are alone.”
/// ✨ ///
ll URSULA ll
Tumblr media
As you go through the stages of grief, like with all of the villains listed here, Ursula would do her best to stay by your side and help when need be.
She’d be very touchy with you, offering hugs, kisses, hand-holding, all the works. She knows all too well the feeling of being alone in the world, and Ursula is determined to make sure you don’t feel like you’re going through all of this alone.
I hope you’re okay with her embraces being a bit “slimy” feeling; though, if you’re dating her, I’d say you’d be used to it by now.
Thanks to her deal-making skills, she always knows just what to say in this situation. Except, while she was often dishonest with the deals she made, she’s 100% genuine here. 
All-in-all, definitely second-best when it comes to being the sweetest to you in this time of your life.
Not related to Ursula herself, but Flotsam and Jetsam would be all-over you. You know how dogs can sometimes tell when their owner is feeling sad, and they comfort you by just laying their head on you? That’s them. Despite Ursula sometimes being overwhelmed by the two’s shenanigans, deep down, she’s thankful that they help cheer you up.
“Oh, angelfish, there, there. You were good to them, and I’m sure that they’ll always watch over you from now on. Just like me.”
/// ✨ ///
Thanks for reading! 💛
317 notes · View notes
blueberrypancakesworld · 1 year ago
Text
Picture an Angel
Tumblr media
warning : obsession, using of ropes, innocent/naive reader, older man/younger woman, Frollo being Frollo
Info : Our lord and savior has a hold on me and I wanted to write more for him and his way to corrupt the innocent reader. I see you guys liked my first One-Shot with him here is more have fun reading ;)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His angel. She was his angel, his sweet angel in the church that was almost completely in his hands. He knew exactly that as soon as either her father died or another man came he had to strike. He had to finally have her, the golden ring on her finger that he had bought her specially would be given to her by him.
He would own her as his wife. Knew that it would only take a few more steps until they would be united under God and he had her all to himself. But until then he still had time to play his game and would do so. Because like every lord, every man with influence and power he wanted to show this.
Wanted to see and show the beauty of his love at all times. A work of art. He wanted to hold her beauty, wanted to have her hanging on his wall until he would finally have her. A picture of temptation in his bedroom and to dream about his physical desire to finally give satisfaction.
He would not entrust this work of art to any artist too much he was afraid that the one would take her away from him. Artists as beautiful as art could be were free spirits and could enchant such young, delicate beings as his angel was.
But he himself had strength he knew he would exploit their piety and naivety. Because he was the church and would thus protect them from evil. The evil that was everywhere and only his angel was the light in this damned world.
,,My angel" he murmured and his ringed fingers ran over the stained glass window in his room. A creation that spoke even more for his wealth. The light of the rising sun the red of the glass flaming sun punished him the cave called for him and would eventually fetch him.
A cave that surrounded him and the church the home of his angel. He saw the church, saw Notre Dame and knew that she was lighting the candles. How beautiful she looked as she lay down and prayed before the Blessed Virgin.
How her hands were clasped together, her head bowed, or sometimes looking up at the statue. He watched her as if she were his holy virgin the gesture went from pious in his eyes to lustful. Kneeling before him she would either way.
His horse Snowball was already saddled and made ready at his door. And with the ringing of the church bells he got on his horse and rode through the dirty streets of Paris to get closer to the church.
He rode faster and faster, the people he did not care and rushed or jumped to the side. They were unfair and were only unnecessarily in his way. The mob turned away and only moments later he had arrived at his angel.
His pretty holy angel he would wait for him in the church. Descending and straightening his clothes, he opened the heavy church door made of the old wood before the cold of the stones gave way to him.
The torches and candles were burning and yet no one seemed to be here. No one except himself and his pretty angel. Where are you, my love? he asked himself, stepping forward and after a few minutes he heard the soft singing. The bright voice of his love seemed to call him and he followed.
He followed her up to the church tower where she had her room. The big room with the view of the city she loved. The city where she stayed only with her father or a few guards, otherwise Frollo would always be at her side.
The thought that she might come to harm had made the judge a little crazy. But the possibility that he would lock her up in such a way that the people would hate him even more did not occur to him. He listened to the singing for a few more minutes before knocking.
,,Who is it?" she asked and he thought he heard her startled gasp. You will sing for me, my heart, went through his mind before he announced himself and entered her room. The light of the sun shining on her through the window, the colored glass showing an angel with a white rose made her look even more beautiful.
The light dress she wore was pretty and yet chaste it was perfectly fitted to her. But he could see exactly her ankles, her tender hands and wrists and her neck and guess what her body looked like underneath.
Her beauty would still belong to him. ,,My Lord, you have come for the picture," she said, and he heard her uncertainty, knowing that her father knew nothing about it. She had told Frollo that day that the Dean of Paris would visit the orphanages in the city.
The elder nodded, looked in the corner of her room and saw under the large white cloth the canvas and the easel, the colors her father had given her for her twentieth birthday. A day on which Frollo had also given her something.
A golden ring with an amethyst inserted, he had put it on her finger. A look at her hands told him that she still wore it. She belonged to him, respected and only because she did not know the world as he knew it. ,,Am I really suitable for this...there are more beautiful women" she murmured and looked at her hands on which the ring was.
He clicked his tongue and shook his head, seeing her looking up at him as his hand came down on hers. ,,Not my flower," he started and ran his fingers over her cheek, turning her head towards the small mirror which was another gift from him to her. He saw her looking at herself and saw the small discoloration of her cheeks.
,,You are the image of the Virgin Mary, you are true piety and beauty," he finished telling her before detaching himself from her and instructing her to sit on her chair while he set up the easel and placed the blank canvas on it. ,,I'll adjust it a little for the perfect picture," he said after setting up the oil paints knowing he was the only one who could paint her perfectly. It was his.
Separating himself from the painting, he went over to her and took a rope from his coat pocket. ,,It is the ribbons of faith that have made Mary consort with the angel...as you blossom here, you too will live up to the angel, won't you?" he asked and the rope slowly tightened around her wrists holding her hands in the praying position folded on her lap.
His long thin cold fingers were adept at tying the knot, taking his time before lightly grasping her chin and making her look up.
There was uncertainty in her gaze as he knelt down and lightly lifted the fabric of her dress. ,,Frollo!" she said in surprise and wonder, and she wanted to pull away, but he just put his hand on her thigh and placed the ruffled fabric in her hand.
,,Always one step at the sin...the flesh of the body and the beauty is what the devil wants isn't it?" he asked and saw how she seemed slightly overwhelmed her voice that could sing so beautifully fell silent for a moment before she nodded and turned her gaze towards the picture. Goosebumps appeared on her body as his fingers stroked up her ankle and he withdrew.
Even her good faith only went so far as she could interpret a man's desires. ,,Is everything done so far?" she dared to ask, looking at him hopefully, still knowing that for a woman of God's house she must look lewd. But for Frollo she was everything.
She was the angel of innocence and the fire of sin on which he would and should burn himself. ,,It's ready, I'll start, don't move my dear" he demanded and she complied with his request. Frollo took the brush and began to apply the first colors to the painting.
While his fingers knew exactly what they were doing, his eyes kept going over her body and he saw her either avoiding his gaze, not holding it, or looking at the window with the angel. His eyes held on the ropes at her wrist, imagining how her body would look when he tied her to the bed.
The rope would leave marks on her hands, legs, thighs, arms and breasts. The marks he would caress to make up for it. Would she cry? The tears in her eyes dripping onto the pillow he would wipe away and kiss away, reassuring her that it was his will.
She would be good to him. She had to. As she held up her dress he saw more and more of her skin and enjoyed the warmth and softness as he stroked over it. He imagined what it would be like to have her next to him, warming his bed and keeping him warm. She would become his angel. His wife.
His until the sun threatened to set in the sky and he knew they would have to continue it another day. ,,It's time...Father will be back soon" she said and he saw how the position was starting to hurt her and she tried to move a little. But he calmly put back the colors and the canvas.
He let her take her time before returning to her, letting the fabric fall back over her ankles and twisting a strand of her hair back and forth between his fingers. ,,We'll finish it, I promise, my flower," he murmured and after a time that was almost too long he opened the rope and took it with him.
He helped her up from the chair and in an act of lust kissed her wrist prints. He heard her surprised gasp but she did not pull away. ,,For your effort, I'll bring you a rose next time, it goes with the picture," he said and saw her nod a little before she lowered her gaze again and shut up. But by the time the dean arrived, his daughter had already put on her gloves and was reading again.
But the shot and the kiss still seemed to burn like the cave fire that would await Frollo after he landed in the grave. But as this would still have time, because first the devil would go to the flower sooner or later. Sooner or later she would be his.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@ria-coolgirl , @hesperia24 , @aliensthegreat , @strangecrowd133 , @her3ge , @fantadym @ranminfan , @siwucha , @cat-lover-nile
435 notes · View notes
juliusceasersblog · 9 months ago
Text
Mea-culpa
Warning, this is the first fanfiction I've written since 2021.... anyway!!
In this story, y/n is a not so innocent nun. She and the "beloved" Archdeacon of Paris are close. *Extremely* close.
Kinks ( innocence, degradation, sadism, masochist, size difference, breeding, orgasm control, age play )
Tumblr media
Click, click, clack
The noise vibrated through the Cathedral as she walked. Pushing through the doors of the kitchen where Reverend mother Jaqueline was waiting.
"Those shoes of yours are absolutely far too loud, sister y/n." The stout woman replied as she walked over to younger girl.
"My apologies, Reverend mother..'' she spoke with a slight whimper at the end of her sentence. "They were given to me by my late sister. She passed of the pox." Y/n spoke with a shutter.
"I know child. You told me when you were in your novice training." The greying lady spoke. "I did?" Y/n shrugged. "I must've forgotten about it." The nun shrugged again.
"Archdeacon Frollo is requesting your presence in the hall of justice. Questions about the orphans singing at the Christmas mass." Reverend mother explained.
The Young nun sighed. "He couldn't call on sister Margaret?'' Y/n called out as she busied herself with pulling a cloth off rising sour dough. "He told me he'd like to talk to you in specific." Reverend mother explained.
"Alright. I suppose we did Have a rather interesting conversation at Thanksgiving mass." Y/n explained with a smile.
"Oh goodness. I suppose I should get going if Archdeacon Frollo would like to speak to me before the midnight bells begin to ring." Y/n laughed. "I'll see you in confession Reverend mother." The young girl smiled as she walked out of the kitchen.
The walk to The hall of justice was a cold one. Frost had accumulated around the windows of the Cathedral and as y/n threw her dark wool coat on. A ring of fur was around the collar of the coat. Another gift from Claudette. Y/n's late sister.
Y/n exited the Cathedral and the cold air of the parisian winter hit her in the face. The walk to The palace of justice was not a lengthy walk by any means.
But as y/n walked up the steps of the hall. Raising her hand to knock on the door. But before her fist could meet the door. A young soldier opened the door.
His blonde hair was rested against his head as a halo would rest against a angels head. "Hello, sister. I don't believe we know eacho-'' the young man was inturrupted ny the sister.
"Captian, we have met on several occasions. At Thanksgiving mass and at the children's benefit last week. Phoebus. Am I correct?'' Y/n said with a small smile spreading across her face. A light blush across her cheeks now.
"Oh- yes- your the one who I pulled under the stai-" the capitan cleared his throat as a hand was pressed to his shoulder. Spindly fingers that were adorned with rings and such.
"Ah, capitan Phoebus. Nice to see that you've found the woman of the hour." The Archdeacon snapped. "I've been waiting well over an hour for you. Sister." Claude clapped quickly. Escorting her up to his office.
The Archdeacon pressed the door of his office shut. Humming and handing y/n a paper. A large scroll of parchment with 3 unsigned signature marks. "Here.'' He said.
Pointing at the spot where the sister had to sign. "I need Reverend mothers signature as well." Claude explained as y/n dipped her quill in ink and Began to write her name.
"Of course, these things must be in order for the matron of the orphanage. She expects everything in pristine order. Although she is paying for none of it.'' Frollo laughed stiffly.
"Thats unfortunate. I suppose they don't have much money.'' Y/n shrugged as she handed the parchment back to Claude with a small smile.
"I do have to wonder. Sister. About something I over heard.." the Archdeacon started out. "With your novice training, you are not supposed to be having any sexual relations. And as I've seen on several occasions. You clearly aren't following any of your training." Claude smirked as he stalked towards the young lady.
"Excuse me? How dare to talk to me like that. This is highly inappropriate conduct." The sister shuttered. Had he seen captian Phoebus on his knees. Eating her out as the churchgoers got the holy communion.
"If you don't want you and your .. sun-god to be exposed to the entire church. I suppose you give me what." The older man smirked. Standing behind the sister.
"Your just like the rest of them aren't you? Men, you all want the same thing in the end.'' Y/n snapped.
Before the young woman could tell what was happening. Claudes arm had traveled up to y/n's face. His hand colliding with the nun's face. Earning a yelp from the sister.
Her face became quickly red. Her hand had sat upon her cheek. Whining softly. Y/n took her hand from her face. Putting them on Claude's chest. Resting against frollo with a whine.
Frollo took her face in his hand. Her chin in his forefinger and middle finger. His thumb resting against y/n's jaw. Bringing his lips to brush against the sisters own.
Frollos kiss was soon inturrupted as y/n bumped against his desk. She sat down and the Archdeacon yanked her skirt up. Kissing up her thigh. Nipping at the inside. Drawing blood.
Y/n let out a groan of pleasure as she pulled her habit off. Her hair sliding around to frame her face and shoulders. "Just- please fuck me already." The sister begged.
Claude brought his hand to cover the young woman's mouth. "Don't have such foul language in the house of justice.'' Claude said sternly. Standing up and undoing his robes. Black pants and a black shirt adorned his body.
Unbuttoned his pants quickly. Opening his hand. "Spit in it." He said quickly. Lathering his cock in y/n's spit. Groaning and taking her undergarments off quickly. Pushing into the girl as she put her hands on claudes shoulders.
Moving so y/n threw her head back. Moaning loudly and biting on Frollo's neck. "You certainly don't sound like a virgin.'' The Archdeacon taunted.
Y/n scoffed. "How many anatomy books have you looked at to know how sex works?" The sister taunted in response. Watching as claude growled lowly. Feeling his neck being bitten.
Claude let his hand move lower. Circling y/ns clit with tight and hard circles. Smirking as she bit down on her hand to draw blood.
The sister nearly came then and there. How was he so good at this? Was he a virgin. His movements inside of her said otherwise.
Frollos cock was large. Longer than it was girthier. Looking upon the girl as he felt her thighs began to shake. The soft flesh of her thighs shaking as she came around his cock. "F-fuck-'' the nun cried out.
"That was fast. Shall I cum inside you? On your ass? Your bosom?'' Claude called out.
"Inside of me- please?'' She begged. Claude was close himself. His age had been catching up with him snd he could tell he couldn't last as he used to.
Frollo came deep inside her. Spilling his seed all over her womb and kissing her as he did so...
_________________
That's it... #Yolo
177 notes · View notes
princess-of-thebes-1995 · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Hear me out. A younger yandere frollo x female Reader
Tumblr media
343 notes · View notes
phantomwritezstuff077 · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
The other universe:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I did it again guys, I made something sad
tag:
@slutforsnow
128 notes · View notes
triasticalwarlock · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
WHY IS THIS MAN SO SEXY *sob*
115 notes · View notes
maluustrawberry · 1 month ago
Note
Hey did you finish Undesirable Encounter Part 2 Ty 🥰🥰
Undesirable encounter
Part.2 (Claude Frollo X Reader)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N: Hi dear, sorry for the delay, I said I would do it hehehe. I wanted to thank you readers for your support and I didn't expect the first part to get so many views (I'm surprised, almost 500 notes) and a lot of people asked me for the sequel so I do. I did it with my best friend @thefanofnotredame, I hope you like it❤️. {If you haven't seen part one, it's here}
°•°•°•°•°°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
It was morning, around 8 or 9 o'clock. You were already awake, but in your room. It was hard to stop thinking about the judge's fateful and unwelcome appearance in your store. As you sat in front of the window in a wooden chair, you sipped a hot drink in front of the only light in your room, which was white and dramatic, melancholy.
What made you think even more about the whole situation was the fact that tonight you were supposed to go to the palace of justice and deliver the damn cloak and pair of gloves to Frollo in person. The whole thing was uncomfortable, almost dark. Just thinking about that man's touch on your hands again... Argh! How horrible. But at the same time, there was something very... peculiar about the look in his eyes from before. That look that touched you - almost literally - with all that malice; it was almost a trap for something that, suddenly, in front of your bedroom window, began to attract you very much, almost like hypnosis.
Realizing that you were already too absorbed in your own thoughts and near delusions, you quickly shook your head and left the window, heading for your closet so you could change your clothes.
At the same time as this was happening, on the other side of town, the judge was in his palace of justice and completely isolated in his office. No guards entered or left where he was. He walked from side to side, looking like he was going to go mad at any moment. He wasn't even wearing his judge's clothes, just a baggy white shirt with brown pants, which stuck to his legs, and black shoes.
The judge seemed troubled by something he couldn't solve. A legal case? Criminals and murderers going wild in the streets of La Cité? No, it was something else. It was a person who kept him awake.
After meeting that seamstress for the first time, he couldn't stop seeing her in his dreams, his morning thoughts or even his everyday actions. He felt that she was following him in everything he did.
How? How could a woman of such a low class, compared to his own, bewitch the man of God? He looked out of the window at the grayish-white light and wondered: How could he, the judge who had humiliated her, look her in the eye again? Was he the one who was being embarrassing or was he the one getting embarrassed by the way the young woman looked? Everything - all those questions drove him crazy. He wanted to isolate himself from all these thoughts, because he knew that God could easily hear them at any time.
Frollo really had to do something about all those feelings. He couldn't get rid of them, either by shouting at the guards or by making a cruel judgment on some criminal. "God, what has this woman done to me?" the man asked himself, distressed and sitting down in the chair in front of his desk in his elegant office.
Suddenly, someone knocked on his door.
“Come in.” The judge answered, giving the person permission to enter his office, putting his arms on the table and placing a hand on his forehead, almost rolling his eyes with hatred.
One of his guards poked his head into the office, spying on the judge for a few seconds and then entering the office completely, closing the door behind him. The guard looked nervous, worried, but maybe it was just the way this place and the judge made him feel:
“Speak up. What happened?” Frollo asked, looking at the guard.
“Sir, we've already dealt with the problem.”
“What problem?” He asked, distracted and staring at the table with old paperwork and a pot of ink with an exaggeratedly large black quill.
“The problem, sir. With that bandit from a few days ago. He confessed that he stole a lot more than we thought, can you believe it? Jewelry, shoes.”
“Yes, and?” He lifted a sheet of paper from the pile, looking at some words. With that answer, the guard was startled.
“...what do you mean, sir?” The guard asked, almost in shock. “We've been trying to get a word out of this thug for days! He's so strong.”
“Are you finished?”
When the judge cut off the guard's speech in such a rude way, he raised his head at him with a very annoyed expression, as if he hadn't wanted to hear a word the young man had said:
“I don't care about this guy anymore. He's given us enough trouble. Throw him with those rabble of prisoners, tramps and criminals! Let's have a trial with him another day.” Rolling his eyes at the papers again, he pulled out one of the sheets and read it. He showed no real interest on it, not a single one, and the guard realized this quickly, frowning downwards.
“Sir, is something wrong?”
“Hm?” He moved his head to look at the guard, totally inattentive and with his mind on something else.
“You seem... I don't know... discouraged? We were too focused on the bandit issue.”
“I just lost interest, I have more important things to worry about.” The judge replied dryly and sighed. “I'll be receiving a seamstress tonight at the palace of justice, stay tuned and let me know if she arrives.”
“Oh, yes, the seamstress... as far as she's concerned, we didn't hear from her this morning. So, just to be on the safe side, we'll check on her later, since the delivery won't be until the evening. What do you think, sir?”
In the blink of an eye, the judge raised his head to look at the guard, almost as fast as a drop. He widened his eyes and almost let his mouth open wider than it should have, just for finally being able to talk about that subject that had only been stuck in his head and that was finally hanging over their conversation. "Oh, what a relief!", thought the older man to himself:
“I think it's very good, lieutenant.” He said, already with a slightly shrewd and debauched expression, arranging his arms on the table and placing an elbow against the surface near the papers, putting a hand under his chin, holding his head. “Well, you remember that she was suspected of helping and harboring those gypsies, don't you?”
“Yes, sir…”
“When you go there, keep an eye out if you happen to see any gypsies in that store. Make sure she's actually doing something good, because I don't want her to cheat me, or even try to.”
“But why would a mere seamstress have bad intentions towards you?”
Suddenly, Frollo cast a very threatening glance at the guard, slowly getting up from his chair and resting his hands on the table:
“You're not thinking of denying my order, are you?”
“B-But, sir, I…”
“Are you?”
The guard, his eyes wide with fear, began to stutter and placed part of his hand against his forehead, making a sign of obedience to an order:
“I'm not, sir!” He spoke, almost fearing for his life and looking up so as not to have his soul ripped out by his eyes.
“Good…” The judge sat down as if it were nothing and looked at the rest of the paperwork. “Go and see the girl and bring me news. I want it to be quick and brief, unless you want to join the bandit in being tortured too.”
“Y-Yes, sir…”
“Oh! You want that?...” The evil man cut the guard off abruptly, mocking his nervousness with an evil smile, while still looking at the papers and the table.
“I-I don't want to, sir, I mean...I...I'm going”
The poor man, practically submissive in his position, left the judge's office in almost the blink of an eye, afraid of being sentenced right there.
Even though the judge delighted in such agony coming from a 'little man' like the one in front of him a few seconds ago, he slowly wiped the smile off his face, because the image of the lady sewing appeared in his mind again. "What a curse, what torture! She must be a witch, that's for sure. That woman can't get out of my head, she's like a needle stuck in my skull!"
And so it went with the man, slowly becoming anguished inside every time he thought of the beautiful seamstress. In the blink of an eye, it was afternoon.
The seamstress kept moving around and always ended up bumping into one place or another, injuring herself on her frames and arms. All this was happening because she was so anxious, even if it was only to make a pair of gloves and a cape. After many restless minutes, you finally sat down to sew:
“Damn judge, damn man... he could ask for these things anywhere else, but no! He wants to torture me, to punish me with his hypocritical, petty, mean 'justice'!” The seamstress complained nervously as she touched up the fingertips of the glove.
Suddenly, you began to feel watched, so you decided to look up and were startled: a guard, not at all discreetly, was watching you through the window pane. It was the usual clumsy man, of course, but the fact that he was - of course - directly sent by Frollo made your blood bubble even more. Since you couldn't take your anger out on the man, you looked down after a few seconds and gritted your teeth with your mouth closed, but with your lips visibly curved, showing that you weren't happy at all.
It also made you a little tense and one of the reasons was that a gypsy woman was hiding with her daughter in the basement of your store, if they came out of there now, that would be it, but on the one hand you were a little relieved that they came before the guard arrived and stared at you at the door. It seems that Frollo knew what you were up to.
The poor woman was fighting against time. As she passed the thread and needle through the fabrics, she didn't realize that it was - almost literally - going by faster than the day. Even with blood, sweat and hatred, she finished her work and let out a great sigh, taking the air into her lungs as if it was the first time she had done this all day.
When you raised your head, to your surprise, it was still late. The sun was still setting and the sky was slowly losing its reddish hue. Ah, that was enough to blow your mind.
“... I can't believe it.” You said, almost without blinking and with a look of disbelief at the situation, looking sideways and putting a hand to your forehead. “My God... how? It can't be!”
Good. Now you had to wait until the evening. Of course, it would be just as bad if you ended things at short notice, but... waiting anxiously for that meeting with the man to happen was torture. Since when are you punished for beating the clock?
“DAMN!” You shouted, groaning in anguish and getting away from your desk to go somewhere else. “If he doesn't ask for me to be picked up with his carriage, he's going to hear some good shit! Sending some little guy to put pressure on me?! Well, how inconsiderate…”
And you kept talking as you paced back and forth as soon as you stood up, but you realized that time wasn't going to go any faster if you kept muttering your discontent. You had to calm down or you'd go mad. The seamstress decided to make herself a cup of tea in an attempt to calm her nerves and read a book so that time would pass more quickly.
*****
Night fell. The streets were dark; along with the curfew that had begun to apply earlier in the day in the city. As expected, no carriages passed your store. Well, what a surprise, huh?
Before the curfew started, the Romani woman and her daughter said they were going out, you insisted that they stay and come back to the Court of Miracles only in the morning, but they didn't want to bother you, so, to be safer, you recommended that they go out the back.
The seamstress was sorting out the judge's gloves and cape. After that, being a vain woman, you meticulously checked in your mirror that you looked good, that your dress fit you well and that your hairstyle was impeccable. Why this excessive concern? You didn't know, you had no idea.
Draping a shawl over your shoulders, you left your store and began the lonely walk to the palace of justice with the package. The cold evening breeze touched your face, the beginning of winter in Paris. Walking through the streets, you could see the stores and markets closing and residents heading for their homes, respecting the curfew while guards stood on every street corner, ready to arrest anyone who was bold enough to break the judge's rule.
Little did the seamstress know that, from afar, Claude Frollo was staring at her from one of the tower windows of his comfortable office, while you had to walk to where the man was. Poor woman, isn't she? Covering herself with a shawl so desperately not to be seen... wait. A shawl? Oh. Oh, my goodness.
When the man realized that you were wearing something to cover your bust and shoulders, he widened his eyes and walked backwards in surprise, but then began to make a serious, fearful expression. His mind started having those thoughts again, those unconscious and absurd thoughts.
With each passing second of waiting, the judge felt as if his self-control was going to fail him at any moment and almost threw himself into the chair behind his desk as he sat down, trapped in his sinful reverie. His body suddenly began to heat up, irritation gradually took hold of him and he regained his composure.
Finally, the girl reached the gates of the Palace of Justice. The guards who were there soon saw her:
“Is this in your hands the order of Judge Claude Frollo?” One of the tall men asked.
“Yes, he said to meet him now.”
“Very good.” He replied.
The men opened the doors of the place and you entered, almost quickly, making the men close the door faster than usual too, with his hands still on the thick iron rods. At that moment, they looked at each other and made a strange expression, with their faces a little closer:
“Is that pretty girl the seamstress?” The guard on the left asked, almost whispering.
“Yes, she's really pretty. But I didn't know that women could run their own business without their husband's supervision.” replied the one on the right, causing the one on the left to make a slightly annoyed expression.
“Yeah... I don't even know if they can, not like that. The crazy judge must have made her do something for him on purpose, just to embarrass her.”
While the men gossiped about the strange situation, you walked around the place with a somewhat cowed look on your face. The place seemed too gloomy to be focused on justice, almost like a gloomy marquis' castle, full of guards and torches in every corner. You looked up and the ceiling was higher than that of any house or mansion, and the colors were too dark to distinguish at that time. The seamstress began to walk faster and arrived at the judge's office. Anger gradually overcame you at the knowledge that you would have to see this man's face again and you regained your posture, taking a deep breath and knocking on the door, then hearing that authoritative, harsh voice you knew all too well saying "Come in"
If it wasn't already clear enough that night fell faster than a stone before, it would be even more so now, precisely because of the moonbeams invading the man's office, his face being the first thing you could see. When you entered the office and closed the large wooden door behind you, you could see the place around you better and even noticed a small fireplace burning in the corner of the room:
“Good evening, sir.” You said seriously, trying not to be nervous, but it was a little obvious, and you couldn't let go of the delivery in your sweat-damp hands.
Frollo simply looked at you without changing his cold expression. After watching you arrive through the window, he quickly changed and put on only his big judge's cloak over his ordinary ones.
“Finally.”
He slowly got up from his chair and put one hand on the table, leaning on it and stepping out from behind it, putting his arms behind him. You put the bag with the delivery on his desk, without looking at his face:
“Since I didn't take your measurements, I ended up using a previous client's size just for a base, but I can correct it if it doesn't fit.”
“Well, but, seamstress…” The judge quickly countered, in a false and mocking tone just to bother you. “How am I supposed to know, or rather feel, that this is the right size? My fingers aren't like any other man's…”
“By putting them on.” You answered in a tone as if you were stating the obvious, your gaze going to him now as you held the long cape.
With that answer, he made an offended expression for a second, but quickly rolled his eyes and closed them, taking a deep breath. As if nothing was wrong, he walked towards her and stood in front of her, looking haughty.
“Be brief. Let's see the package I ordered.”
The woman had to hold back the urge to roll her eyes in disgust at his haughty air of superiority. You showed him the cape, he could see a little of it from the fireplace:
“I made it from the pattern that would look best on you, in my opinion.” The cape seemed to be made of two fabrics, burgundy on the inside and black on the outside.
The man looked closely at the cape, even took it in his hands and brushed his fingers against your for a brief second, coughing in a discreet and slightly embarrassed way, a little electricity and adrenaline coursing through his body at the slightest touch, which, deep down, he craved. He disguised it:
“Not bad. Silk?”
“Yes, sir…” You nodded. “Can you turn around, please?” He was a little suspicious of your request and you held back a sigh. You couldn't believe that you had to explain everything to him. “To see if the size is correct.”
“That's fine.” He said irreverently.
As he turned, Frollo felt the girl's delicate hands brushing against his skin again, but this time on his neck - which made him clench his jaw as he closed his eyes. He didn't know if it was a common agony at being touched by commoners or if it was something beyond his own self-centeredness. And yet, the seamstress had no idea what her touch was doing to him, after all, she was only being professional:
“Is the length good, or would you prefer it shorter?” You asked, breaking the silence.
“It's perfect.” He answered quickly, as if he was going to have a fit.
You then removed your hands from around his neck and shoulders, folding the cloak and placing it on the table. Frollo could still feel the small flaming trail of the girl's hand on his body, which made him miss it a little and yearn for more. When he turned around, the seamstress was taking the black gloves out of the bag and he immediately held out his left hand to you, who found this strange since he could put them on by himself.
"Look at that." you thought a little annoyed as you put the glove on his hand. "He's so inconvenient... how can he be? He wants me to act like his maid, doesn't he? Do you think I'm honored to serve you? Idiot judge..."
“So, sir?” You asked, turning your gaze to his and pretending to look calm “Are you satisfied?”
“With what?” He asked, slightly startled and almost wide-eyed.
“...with the gloves and the cape, sir.” You answered, confused by his reaction and holding your hands together, your arms against your hips in a formal way. You even blinked a little, trying to understand the situation.
“Oh, yes. They're suitable…”
He answered in such a strange way that it only made the seamstress think that he wasn't in the best condition to be seen at that moment, as if he was bothered by your presence or even that he didn't really like your delivery at all. You didn't care, but deep down you were worried about something, you felt bad and it wasn't just because of the energy of the palace of justice or the man in front of you:
“I think it's over here. The value was eight pieces of silver.”
“Before you go, seamstress, I want to clarify a few things...”
Frollo spoke as he moved away from you, going to the door and turning the key in the lock. You watched this action and a shiver ran down your spine, your body frozen with fear and anxiety. By instinct, you took a step backwards and your hips ended up resting on the edge of the table, trapping you:
“Do you think you can outsmart me?” He put his hands together as soon as he closed the door, approaching you but standing at a ‘respectable’ distance.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know very well what I'm talking about, seamstress.” He spoke with hatred in his eyes.
“This Romani business again?” You asked, defensively and looking him up and down in disbelief. He couldn't have found out... “I told you I didn't help anyone and you searched my store.”
The older man didn't hold back his laughter when he saw you insisting on the lie. He had you trapped now, like a fly caught in a spider's web with no way out. He continued:
“You're a brazen viper…”
“Your Honor, despite your position, I will not accept being called that. If you want to have a normal conversation with me, at least be respectful.”
This took him by surprise. He hated that boldness, especially coming from a commoner like you - who had defied him before. His blood boiled with both hatred and lust as he recalled the moment before the first time he had been in your store, remembering how defiant you had been, but also your hands touching at that moment. Out of anger, Frollo stepped closer, taking heavy steps and cornered you, resting his hands on the table on either side of you. Your breath caught in your throat and you opened your eyes wide in fear and surprise:
“You're the one who owes me respect here, and don't change the subject. I sent one of my men to your store and received news that didn't leave me stunned: Two gypsies coming out of the back of your store... what do you have to say about that?”
It shocked you. You've been found out. Fucking guard...
Your heartbeat was racing from the truth being discovered and the proximity of the man, which caused you fear, nervousness and anxiety, leaving your legs weak. Claude laughed a little when he saw her silence and her expression and continued:
“It's a shame to see you lying and risking your life to save that gypsy scum who doesn't deserve such kindness…”
“Get away!” You murmured a little frightened and he didn't move, overwhelmed by hatred and the little lust present.
“Viper sorceress... What do you have to say about it? What's your defense?”
You put your hands on his chest, preventing him from coming any closer. He practically spat those words out of the hatred he felt for being tricked. With your movement, the shawl on your shoulders came down a little, the judge's heart pounded and he swallowed dry at the sight in front of him. As frightened as you were, you noticed that look on yout shoulders and that expression of disgust, but at the same time so lascivious... Then you realized something in his previous words that made you confused:
“Sorceress? Why are you accusing me of witchcraft? What evidence do you have against that?” You asked in a defiant and angry tone.
“There's no point in denying your crimes!”
“I'm not denying it, I'm not denying that I lied! And yes, I tried to save those Romanis, but I won't accept false accusations of witchcraft... What proof do you have against me? Tell me!”
The man froze. He just stared at you as if you were something that frightened him, or even something that he just wanted to touch. He looked as if he was going to pounce on the seamstress at any moment, as if she were prey. That animalistic feeling grew inside him even more under the moonlight and the light of the fireplace, the two of them staring at each other as if any false move would end in disaster.
Suddenly, the judge looked down in a reflective manner, his gaze almost trembling, while the sound of the wood burning became deafening and the flame that burned it seemed to be less warm than the sensation they both felt in their bodies, heating them up with adrenaline. He muttered something, but you couldn't hear it, which annoyed you a little and you asked seriously:
“What did you say? Speak loud and clear, what have you got against me?!”
“You've bewitched me!” He vociferated with hatred in his voice, and continued. “You've made me, a man of God, desire you as you've never desired anyone. The love of a convict!”
You were both silent for a few seconds, weighed down by the weight of your emotions, you stunned and he foolish:
“I don't know what kind of witchcraft you've done, seamstress, but you're driving me crazy. I've been thinking about you from the moment I laid eyes on you... and your shoulders... and your hands...” He turned a little to the side, looking at his hands gleaming in the firelight. “... So lacking in discipline and obedience, so blatantly... How could that attract me? It felt like a thousand demons were attacking me, with visions of a woman flashing through my mind and my eyes, and this woman… was you.”
He looked at the reddish fire in the fireplace with a little difficulty, intense. A reflection of his repressed emotions being exposed, in the midst of a chaos that could no longer be controlled. You were in shock. A shock so tremendous that you were speechless at such accusations, your heart racing like the judge in front of you, you felt hatred, but also pity... why?
You came out of your thoughts when you felt his hand in contact with yours that was resting on the table, squeezing it as if you were some kind of possession of his and his thumb caressing the back of your hand:
“But I can forgive you for this crime and pretend that nothing happened…”
He whispered close to your ear, his warm breath in contact with your neck making you shiver. Because he was so close, Frollo could smell the perfume on your neck. You asked, challenging him:
“And who are you to think that your forgiveness is so important to me? God, by any chance?”
With that answer, anger took over the judge's body and he gripped your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him, who had fire in his eyes. His fingers squeezed your cheeks:
“I swear to God, I'm going to break your arrogance, woman.”
Unexpectedly, you were surprised by a kiss on the lips before you could say anything else. Your eyes widened at the unexpected action and you tried to pull away, but he wouldn't budge; on the contrary, he pushed you harder against the table. You hated yourself for the next move…
In a second, you closed your eyes and returned the judge's kiss. Even though it was a rough, hateful kiss, it intensified, bringing out a confusing mixture of sensations. Frollo's hand, which was on your chin, slid down your face until it reached your neck, squeezing lightly, but not enough to suffocate you, so that a moan came from you. He took advantage of this moment to enter your mouth with his tongue, exploring it. An uncontrollable and overwhelming desire dominated them both, and they didn't care about anything else at that moment.
You broke off the kiss to catch your breath. You were confused by what had just happened and Frollo stared at every part of your face; your eyes, your slightly rosy cheeks and your beautiful expression... Frollo's hand didn't leave your neck, as if he wanted to show some kind of dominance there.
The two of you get closer and closer again, as if you were hypnotized and surrendering to lust to start another kiss. A sudden noise comes from the office door, which causes the judge to quickly let go of the woman and move away, pretending nothing has happened and his stern demeanor returning, but still with suspicion and desire present:
“Come in.” he allowed, before clearing his throat. And you quickly recovered before the door opened, straightening the skirt of your dress and draping your shawl over your shoulder.
The door opened to reveal the guard, who, upon entering, hesitated slightly as he realized that he didn't seem welcome at the moment. Even so, he insisted on saying something:
“Hello, sir… and miss.” Said the man, confused. “Am I in the way?”
“Be brief…” Frollo sighed and ran a hand through his gray hair.
The soldier looked at them both briefly with trepidation and decided to look away, trying to avoid the tension in the air.
“Well, er…” Before continuing, he coughed “I just wanted to ask your permission to start training this afternoon because we've been waiting and…”
He started babbling on about it, as well as being brief as he ordered, which irritated the judge, an irritation visible in his eyes. Frollo just nodded as if he didn't care and also seemed anxious for the guard to finish once and for all and leave. You just wanted to get rid of this embarrassing situation, you were afraid that the guard would suspect what was going on between the two of you and you wanted to get back to your store before you caused any more trouble:
“Well, since we've finished our conversation, I think I should go. Goodbye, gentlemen.” You said, bowing slightly as a gesture of respect and farewell.
Frollo was surprised by what you said and then raised his face with a different expression, as if he actually wanted you to stay, but you quickly fled the men's sight and left the judge's office, passing through the corridors that led to the exit of the palace.
As you walked down the street to your house, you were still thinking about what had just happened. You soon arrived at the store and quickly locked the door, as if you were being chased by someone, then leaned your back against the wall and brought your hand up to your lips. You'd just kissed the cruelest judge in Paris, you'd just kissed the man you hated and you'd fallen for your own hypocrisy.
Both went against their own laws. Both went against their own character. Both felt that everything was about to turn upside down. On the one hand, a judge on the verge of a moral collapse, on the other, a seamstress trapped in mortal doubt. The ending is almost as clear as glass: Grandiose changes and a drama that could end in either blood or something unacceptable to French society.
End...
89 notes · View notes
blehblehhhhhh · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
50 likes is close enough
I hear there’s this thing called a digital footprint…
69 notes · View notes
gillymugs · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Bonus frollo
79 notes · View notes
svaints · 1 year ago
Text
HC. Rollo hands you flowers from his garden on special occasions
Tumblr media
699 notes · View notes