Let Me Love You Again Kai X Reader

Originally posted past virtuallyinsane-dark

Plot'south / Includes:

• ♡ Evil Queen x Hostage!Reader- She keeps yous in the dungeon, merely for her.
• Negaduck / ◇ Human!Jim Starling x BuddingStar!Reader- You'll exercise annihilation to just make it, you told him. You've worked so hard and you'll exist damned if all that goes to waste. So, he gives you a proffer… Didn't anyone tell yous, beloved how Hollywood works? Someone should have.
• ♤ Judge Claude Frollo x Demon!Reader- He'southward in dear with his stalker… but you're everything he's supposed to hate and be disgusted by (And, he is- ). You're also magnificent.
• ♧ Man!Scar x Reader- Inspired by 'The Madness of King Scar'. Instead of pursuing Nala, he goes after y'all. You aren't thrilled for some reason?

Warnings: I wanted to write some dark stuff. So, in order of the drabbles, here are the warnings: Commencement OF ALL, very inappropriate/noncon/toxic relationships. Then also kidnapping and keeping yous against your volition (In a cell), non-sexual nudity, sexual harassment / propositioning ( Dubcon I guess? I mean, you lot're maxim aye simply non considering yous genuinely want to have sex), SMUUUUTTTTTTT (Throughout), deeply religious man doing some SERIOUS SINNING (would not recommend for devout Catholics or Voorhees' because there is certainly premarital sex involved), dirty talk, oral sexual activity (female receiving), sacrilege? And finally age deviation (Older man, younger female) and forced marriage / sexual harassment… once more.

Evil Queen:

Originally posted by grr4ss

He She keeps you in a box by the bed, live but simply barely. - Hole

The lines of sunlight that dissever the grit and the dirt of your jail cell right in forepart of you well-nigh touch the tips of your toes, and as ever, your queen comes swishing down the hallway towards you lot. She always comes at the same time, so when the beams of light colouring the flooring outset to go closer to yous, your usual sitting position, you just sentinel it and feel feet build up and fill your chest… your throat… your mouth. Until you tin can barely breath and you hear her footsteps, the swift click, click, clicking of her sharp heeled shoes along the stone floor and you bite dorsum a scream.

You did scream, the 3rd week you were here. Every fourth dimension yous knew she was coming, y'all heard her coming, and you knew she would be in your cell soon, y'all would cry and yell for her to let y'all go. Y'all were thinking desperately, for some horrible reason, that if you were loud enough, if the pleading bled through your voice enough, so she would finally sympathise – fully encompass your state of affairs, - and let you be free again.

But that was stupid. She knows how y'all feel, she understands perfectly.

Information technology merely doesn't matter. She's calculated and she has decided that her demand for you is more important.

She would just wrap your trembling body up against her ain perfectly at-home 1, the smooth feel of her fine apparel comforting against your cheeks and your artillery. But you didn't want her. You didn't want her condolement, it just succeeded in making yous feel ill- to your stomach.

But y'all didn't move. What was the point? It would merely start trouble, and besides… you don't have the energy. You lot live on bread and water for fucks sake.

Now, y'all let her walk on into your cell and she revels in the tiresome hatred you wait at her with. Her lips twist into a smirk in greeting, then moves to the bed. You lot watch her as she undresses, similar ever. First goes the hood, her hair coming free effectually her shoulders, then go her shoes and her dress. So she looks over her shoulder and gestures for yous to exercise your thing.

She must be tired today. Direct to bed.

Sighing, you lot drag yourself from the dusty, harsh stone floor, reach her and raise your arms like an obedient, lifeless doll. Which is what y'all are, honestly.

She enjoys pulling the sack of a shift off your body, herself.

Then you both get into bed, wrapping around each other and then your leg hooks over her hip while her's nestles itself in your crotch. Your fronts touch completely, her right arm lays soon-to-be expressionless under your waist and curls effectually your back, pulling your torso into her and keeping you there, and her left-paw cups the back of your neck; Locking your head in place too in the cheat of her neck.

She smells similar burning and vanilla and you breath that in all night, every nighttime when she comes hither to your special courtyard dungeon to slumber with you. Just sleep. Hilda merely likes to keep your 'soft', 'beautiful' body close, and she thinks its 'sacrilege' to article of clothing clothes herself when she could be touching you properly. It would exist wrong to permit this go to waste, to watch skin-on-peel attending like this pass by without taking proper advantage of it. Similar to a wine connoisseur'south mental attitude towards fine drinks- you lot can't possibly allow that get to waste.

And she tin't let you become to waste, which hither is synonymous with can't possibly set you complimentary.

The truly horrifying thing, though?

You don't call up you could sleep without any of this, now. And so you lot just bury your nose in her neck, pull her body closer and shut your eyes to go to sleep. There's null else to do.

Negaduck / Human!Jim Starling

Originally posted by beforethelobotomy

Chasing the so chosen fame… she ended stumbling upon her deeds. - Rama

"Ah~ "Yous sigh, leaning your caput back into the wall behind you as his lips paint the line of your throat, enjoying every little taste that he steals off your skin. You take to remind yourself that you don't desire this, yous don't want him. This is just business organization.

Only the way this man - this atrocious, greedy, self-absorbed ass of a man, - and his hands fit on your hips and how his hips rub against yours, feels similar the best kind of punishment and you're and then close to losing yourself. You feel like if you keep thinking you don't want this, y'all don't desire this, and proceed your true goal in mind then y'all won't lose yourself. You're withal just a adamant immature star dying to make it. You lot withal have your integrity.

You do. You must.

Yous aren't one of those whores that are manipulated by quondam stars and go fucked over- literally.

You'll get your dues.

This is just the work you lot take to complete to reach that goal. Like… like post room.

~

"Hi! Mr Starling, its keen to meet yous! I'm a huge fan." You axle, shaking Darkwing Duck's hand every bit shortly as he gets to your table, which y'all had just waived enthusiastically at him from when he arrived at the café, in fear of losing it if you were to go and greet him at the door. "Darkwing would kickGizmo'south ass whatsoever day." You lot wink, laughing good naturedly and sitting back in your seat, crossing one leg over the other. Truthfully, you aren't that huge of a fan - Gizmo duck has always been your favourite superhero, in actuality, - but a little imitation flattery never hurt anyone. Besides, if what you've heard near Jim Starling is truthful then it's a very good tactic to getting what you desire.

You will get that damn internship with him if it kills y'all.

Jim'south eyes slip boldly over your form which he makes no attempt at disguising equally annihilation other and so what it was; predatory. You're wearing a professional outfit, but yes, it is pretty cute…  And it caters to your needs. Short, tight black skirt, tinted lavender blouse- hey! Clothes for the job you want.

He smiles brightly; A white, sparkly matter that any good celebrity pulls off all the time without getting wrinkles, somehow. That reminds you, if you go this gig - Ah, not 'if'; When. Be confident, - you lot demand to be certain to enquire him what foam he uses.

"Very nice to run into yous, also. Sorry, I didn't get to look at the interview list before I got here." He… This human being didn't even wait at your resume earlier coming? At least he has the good sense to fake bashfulness. "I was busy running lines with Debra Van Duck."

Oh, and he'southward a name dropper, as well. You could laugh, merely y'all strength it down.

Instead, yous grin your ain best smile and tilt your caput merely so to the side. "Y/Northward. Y/N L/N, it's a pleasure to meet you Mr Starling."

~

"I know it is,"

Y'all remember how he responded like a total douche, and how much of your energy y'all used up swallowing the deep groan. Skilful lord, who is this guy? You had thought.

Well, now you have an respond- A guy yous fucked on your fashion up the ladder of fame.

No! Yous snap out of those self-loathing thoughts. No. You lot aren't doing that. You aren't one of those celebrities. You have dignity…

"What were you doing, wearing my colours… ? Hm? Heheheh… "Darkwing'due south colours, sir, think, rolling your optics as Jim unties the blouses peak, grinning at your attire. He's sure misplaced the line between Jim Starling, and his graphic symbol, hasn't he? Piece of piece of work. "Sure got my attention. Good strategy."

Yous gasp. "I wasn't trying to do this! - "

"Whatever." Yous bite back an insult, and instead grip his scarf - dear god, what a poser, - and drag him forward to connect your lips with the seasoned star's. He growls into your mouth, loving the animosity coming from such a cute girl, and pulls away, dragging you the residuum of the manner through his hotel room, to the bedroom.

The scarf gets lost first thing when you get in there.

~

"- And that's why I recollect I'm the all-time candidate to be your assistant for this movie." Yous finish, fingers wrapped around your coffee cup- from which yous've barely drunkard anything from being likewise busy siting your experience and your competencies to Mr Starling.

"My personal banana."

Your eyebrows shoot up your brow. "Huh?"

"You'll exist my personal assistant, if I like y'all enough. You should say information technology." He smirks, liking something almost that 'personal' part of the job championship. He takes a long sip of his own drink, and so- an impossibly detailed drink. The potable of an asshole. You lot are not looking forward to ordering that matter for him every solar day. Those poor baristas.

"Okay… And, that'due south why I think I'm- "Now that you've been corrected on one part of your determination, you re-call back the rest suddenly equally well. It sure doesn't sound too confident, and you lot need to audio confident. Gripping the cup tighter, you straighten your shoulders once more and paste a winning grin to your young face. "And that's why I would be the perfect personal assistant for you, Mr Starling."

"You know what?" His voice gets deeper and huskier than before, dangerous. Eyes half-lidded, he leans on his forearms across the tabular array to yous. "I think and then as well." Quickly that sexy lilt to his voice disappears again and you lot take a breath. Wow, that was… unexpected… "1 question though! To what ends would you go to in lodge to get this gig? Or, err… for me."

-

Your lips trace along his hips, feeling dirty, simply still saying it. You don't actually want this. Its business. Chanting it in your caput. Over, and over… weakly. When you remember. Every few minutes or so.

You don't desire this… yous… You don't actually want this. You don't….

But you're grabbing at straws now every bit y'all rub your thighs together, thinking this is unbelievably, darkly hot, and in a last-ditch, drastic effort at retaining what little nobility yous might nevertheless possess, yous say it out loud. Against the side of his cock. "I'yard merely doing this to get the job. I'yard not desperate… "

"Aw," In one case the clothes were off, Jim's voice permanently contracted that husky, hot quality from before and information technology made you so wet. "Is that what you lot think?" He sounds and so disbelieving, equally if the idea of yous thinking that was so, very, ridiculous…

You choke, tears edifice in your eyes, and for a moment you lot break. This was not how your career was supposed to outset… y'all were supposed to be different. "Yes."

"Oh, sweetheart." A finger comes under your mentum and guides your head upwardly to wait him in the eye. In that location'due south an evil, wise glint in information technology and one corner of his oral fissure quirks upwards. "Do you really non become how Hollywood works, yet? Well," He chuckles. "Consider yourself lucky to be initiated past Jim Starling, honey. I'm gonna brand y'all a star- but keep doing what yous're doin', alright?"

Belongings his wait for a moment, you lot hear his words. You really hear them… then fix your jaw and narrow your optics.

He's right, you volition be.

-

A smirk slips across your lips and you notice your own optics half lidding, your fingers brushing your hair back off your neck, and that neck inclining to the side. Towing the line between professionalism and flirting.

"Damn near anything, sir."

Judge Claude Frollo:

Originally posted by velveteenghost

You can never be gratis when you're in honey with the chains . - Shreya

Claude's face twitches, which you lot discover only adorably curious, as he kneels downwards between the confessional of your spread open thighs. The fashion he looks at your flower - the rose that the Grim Reaper might offer a disaster victim if he was feeling so generous, as your despicable petty Approximate would refer to it so unflatteringly, -, is a tingle generating cocktail of wicked hunger that, because he's then bad, he won't resist and the misery of someone who wishes he could be doing annihilation else. But he tin can't. Considering he doesn't want to be. And that's the kicker. "I did offer to do y'all, love. But you said you don't want my dingy mouth anywhere near yous… "

He rolls his shoulders back instead of whining and trembling similar he used to, his cold hands finding the junctions beneath your knees. "That'due south correct." Every bit he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours, gently. You wiggle your hips carefully, experimentally, to encounter how he reacts and take hold of a hot flash of red disappear downwardly his neck beneath those clothes. The clothes of a religious homo. Ha! "Who knows what else has been in that."

Y'all bite your bottom lip, smirking. "I could tell y'all… "When he tightens his grip as a warning on your soft peel, you let out a petty giggle. For a moment, you give him a break and only lean back on the leather desk you've sabbatum yourself on, bottoms-less, arms out behind you holding you up every bit he begins his work. His natural language licks a stripe right upwards the middle of your lips, going direct in for the kill instead of fluffing around at all. You lot grin at it, looking at the nighttime stone ceiling and hike a leg up the chair beside him- opening up more for him.

Every bit he starts to go into information technology, enjoying your taste as his lascivious moans tell you lot anything. Non to mention the style he'southward devouring your pussy similar a starving man. His natural language slides up and down, collecting all the slick that your pleasure creates and he sucks on your lips- whining and moaning considering there isn't enough. There's never enough. Not of this. Greedy judge. "Ahhhh… "Y'all moan, spreading your legs fifty-fifty more - as far equally yous possibly and he thankfully buries himself deeper into your cunt, - lips pressing badly to your hot peel.

As he starts to really scoop up the wetness out of the deepest parts of you with his natural language, slurping and inhaling his meal, you make up one's mind it's time to torture him. Just a little fleck! It'south office of the fun of him.

Running your fingers through his hair and spreading them, feeling the soft tufts of greyness pilus, you smirk deviously, nastily, as the pleasure courses through your and bundles in your cunt from Frollo'south desperation. "You know… "Yous let out a moan, and coil your hips into his confront to encourage him, but are actually focusing on the bombshell you're nigh to drib on this poor sinner. "I wonder… ah… if you… recollect about… the… the ones bef-before y'all… "He chokes, gurgling on your elixir as that thought, and hopefully those mental images wink into his head. Yous top down at him with one heart, wickedly.

He recovers and continues to slowly suck on your pretty pussy, determined not to let you get to him… even on his knees, praying on your sex activity.

Tightening your grip on his hair, digging your fingers into his scalp, your pull locks at the aforementioned rhythm of his moans. "Practise y'all remember of them, Frollo? Huh? Filling me upwards with their creamy cum, until I'g and then full that I couldn't possibly have anymore, and it came slithering out and splattering on the ground? Practise I still sense of taste like them, baby? You honey how I sense of taste, don't y'all? Eating me out like a whore… "

In that moment, this man creams hard in his pants.

- Non that he admits it out loud.

Human!Scar

Originally posted by learnforoneself

And suddenly, the monster in him roughshod silent equally he laid his head on her lap. - L.W

All you tin think, as yous stand up there in shock with the whole pride watching you and Scar, with concerned looks on their faces but lips zipped, is; This human watched you abound up. You used to play with his goddamn nephew.

Your pare crawls at the knowledge, feeling his poisonous, most luminescent green eyes on you and the delirious smirk on his lips as Zazu reads out the wedding speech, voice dawdling all around you, information technology seems, similar a horrible nightmare- just picking upwardly with forced enthusiasm when Scar flashes a glare at him. His lips quirk up too, and a fluttery laugh splatters out of him like blood from a slashed pharynx. This doesn't meet his optics, either.

Because the only reason that anyone is here, is because Scar has gone absolutely, positively raving mad. He wants to be loved, that much is clear. And then, he asked you to marry him… and blackmailed you similar a true monarch when you refused. So you had to say yes. To save your family.

Yous're just staring at Scar, absolutely non listening to any of Zazu's words officiating this ridiculous ceremony; His long black pilus has grey streaks coming from the scalp, there are bags under his eyes as he rarely sleeps, his tie isn't tied properly and his eyes- god, those eyes. You keep getting stuck on them.

They're stark raving, is what they are. Impossibly vivid and beautiful, in the same mode that a glowing chemical spill is cute. Or a nuclear blast. Disastrous.

He's a disaster. He's a walking, talking, unstable, ruling disaster like a live volcano; Ready to explode at whatsoever given moment.

And he's forcing you to marry him.

Marry him.

Your breath hitches, sucking in deep suddenly every bit if y'all hadn't actually been breathing for a while. Simply standing.

Oh, my god. This is your wedding. This is a real wedding ceremony.

As you look effectually the garden, as if awakening from a dream, your eyes fill up with tears and your fingers go cold and begin to milk shake around the bouquet of lavender in your hands that is all you can odour. You manage to hold in your cries, though, until Zazu asks you if you'll take Scar's hand in marriage.

And then suddenly, your sobbing and begging. "Scar. Please, you have to s-come across… this is crazy! You- You don't l-l-dear me… " Yeah, like that'southward the issue with this union. Only its all yous can think to say amidst your desperate crying.

Equally if spooked, he immediately jumps likewise - what a pair yous brand, -, except, he moves toward you lot. Cupping your confront in his easily and standing very close, looking into your eyes so intimately that Zazu has to step back from the scene. "Shhh, shhh, pet. No need for tears. No, no, no, please don't cry… " His vocalisation, gravelly as ever, lilts like he truly feels pitiful for yous. Like he sympathises with you.

Our Mad King, you think, looking back into his eyes. "B-but- "

"At present, now, I know it's an emotional moment for u.s. darling but please, pull yourself together."

You do try to seize with teeth your bottom lip and calm down, to your credit… just, of course, you neglect. I hateful? The state of affairs definitely warrants, tears. "Scar, please just mind to me! - "You sniff, cheeks clammy from your salty tears now. He dries them with his thumbs, pouting at you with knit together eyebrows.

"Don't you meet, my beloved? You lot're going to be Queen. Nosotros're going to exist married and be happy together, adored by our kingdom, living forever and leading the world. Together. And, in a year… "Your future husband sets you with a serious expect, informing you of something. "We volition have children, together." Biting dorsum some other cry at that, you attempt to rip out of his grip but he but makes calming noises similar yous're a wild animal and curls an arm tightly around your waist, holding your jaw in one hand now. "Calm downwardly now, beloved. We need to have a united forepart in front of our people!" His grip is surprisingly strong, what with his hold on his ain listen precarious. Y'all can't escape him.

"I am giving yous a year, after all. Isn't that nice of me? Anyway, we're having a nuptials, now. Please grin, expect your prettiest, and say… "He raises his eyebrows, before turning your caput to look at Zazu, enunciating his words conspicuously. "I do."

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Source: https://slashingdisneypasta.tumblr.com/post/640506810066976768/disney-villains-x-reader-drabbles

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