Winchester Brothers X Sister Reader Mary Winchester I Know What You Did Tumblr

Originally posted by virtuallyinsane-nighttime

Plot's / Includes:

• ♡ Evil Queen x Hostage!Reader- She keeps you in the dungeon, just for her.
• Negaduck / ◇ Human!Jim Starling ten BuddingStar!Reader- Yous'll exercise anything to just brand it, you told him. You've worked so hard and yous'll be damned if all that goes to waste. Then, he gives you a proposition… Didn't anyone tell yous, love how Hollywood works? Someone should take.
• ♤ Judge Claude Frollo x Demon!Reader- He's in beloved with his stalker… but you lot're everything he's supposed to hate and be disgusted by (And, he is- ). You lot're as well magnificent.
• ♧ Human!Scar x Reader- Inspired by 'The Madness of Male monarch Scar'. Instead of pursuing Nala, he goes after yous. You aren't thrilled for some reason?

Warnings: I wanted to write some dark stuff. And then, in order of the drabbles, here are the warnings: FIRST OF ALL, very inappropriate/noncon/toxic relationships. Then besides kidnapping and keeping you against your volition (In a cell), non-sexual nudity, sexual harassment / propositioning ( Dubcon I approximate? I mean, you're saying yes merely not considering you genuinely want to have sex), SMUUUUTTTTTTT (Throughout), deeply religious human being 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 difference (Older man, younger female) and forced marriage / sexual harassment… again.

Evil Queen:

Originally posted by grr4ss

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

The lines of sunlight that split up the dust and the dirt of your prison cell right in front of y'all nearly bear on the tips of your toes, and as always, your queen comes swishing downward the hallway towards you. She always comes at the same time, so when the beams of low-cal colouring the floor start to get closer to y'all, your usual sitting position, you only sentry it and feel anxiety build upward and fill your breast… your pharynx… your mouth. Until you can barely breath and you hear her footsteps, the swift click, click, clicking of her sharp heeled shoes forth the rock floor and you bite dorsum a scream.

You did scream, the third week you were hither. Every fourth dimension you lot knew she was coming, you heard her coming, and you knew she would be in your jail cell soon, y'all would cry and yell for her to permit you go. You were thinking desperately, for some horrible reason, that if you were loud plenty, if the pleading bled through your voice plenty, then she would finally sympathize – fully comprehend your situation, - and let you be free again.

Only that was stupid. She knows how you feel, she understands perfectly.

Information technology but doesn't matter. She's calculated and she has decided that her need for y'all is more important.

She would just wrap your trembling body up against her own perfectly at-home ane, the smooth feel of her fine dress comforting against your cheeks and your arms. Only you didn't desire her. You lot didn't desire her condolement, it only succeeded in making you feel ill- to your stomach.

Merely y'all didn't movement. What was the signal? It would simply start trouble, and as well… you lot don't have the energy. Yous live on breadstuff and water for fucks sake.

At present, you lot let her walk on into your cell and she revels in the dull hatred you look at her with. Her lips twist into a smirk in greeting, and then moves to the bed. You lot sentry her equally she undresses, like always. First goes the hood, her hair coming free around her shoulders, then go her shoes and her apparel. And then she looks over her shoulder and gestures for y'all to practice your thing.

She must exist tired today. Straight to bed.

Sighing, you drag yourself from the dusty, harsh stone flooring, reach her and raise your artillery like an obedient, lifeless doll. Which is what you are, honestly.

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

Then you both get into bed, wrapping around each other so your leg hooks over her hip while her'south nestles itself in your crotch. Your fronts touch completely, her correct arm lays soon-to-be expressionless under your waist and curls around your back, pulling your body into her and keeping you there, and her left-hand cups the back of your neck; Locking your caput in identify likewise in the crook of her neck.

She smells like called-for and vanilla and you breath that in all night, every night when she comes here to your special courtyard dungeon to sleep with you. Just sleep. Hilda just likes to keep your 'soft', 'beautiful' body close, and she thinks its 'sacrilege' to article of clothing clothes herself when she could exist touching yous properly. Information technology would be wrong to let this go to waste matter, to watch skin-on-skin attention like this laissez passer by without taking proper reward of it. Like to a wine connoisseur'south attitude towards fine drinks- you tin't possibly allow that go to waste.

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

The truly horrifying thing, though?

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

Negaduck / Human!Jim Starling

Originally posted by beforethelobotomy

Chasing the and then called fame… she concluded stumbling upon her deeds. - Rama

"Ah~ "You sigh, leaning your caput dorsum 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 have to remind yourself that you don't want this, you don't want him. This is but business.

Just the way this man - this awful, greedy, self-captivated ass of a man, - and his hands fit on your hips and how his hips rub confronting yours, feels like the best kind of penalty and you're so close to losing yourself. You feel like if you continue thinking you don't want this, you don't desire this, and keep your truthful goal in mind and so you won't lose yourself. You're nevertheless just a determined young star dying to make it. You still accept your integrity.

You practise. You must.

You aren't 1 of those whores that are manipulated by old stars and get fucked over- literally.

You lot'll get your dues.

This is just the piece of work yous have to complete to reach that goal. Like… like mail room.

~

"Hi! Mr Starling, its dandy to meet you! I'm a huge fan." You axle, shaking Darkwing Duck'due south paw as before long as he gets to your tabular array, which yous had just waived enthusiastically at him from when he arrived at the café, in fear of losing it if you lot were to go and greet him at the door. "Darkwing would kickGizmo's donkey any 24-hour interval." Yous flash, 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 e'er been your favourite superhero, in actuality, - but a little fake flattery never hurt anyone. Besides, if what you've heard near Jim Starling is true then it's a very skilful tactic to getting what you desire.

You lot will get that damn internship with him if it kills you.

Jim'south eyes slip boldly over your course which he makes no attempt at disguising every bit anything other then what information technology was; predatory. Y'all're wearing a professional outfit, simply yeah, it is pretty beautiful…  And it caters to your needs. Short, tight black brim, tinted lavender blouse- hey! Apparel for the job you lot want.

He smiles brightly; A white, sparkly affair that whatsoever good glory pulls off all the fourth dimension without getting wrinkles, somehow. That reminds you, if you get this gig - Ah, non 'if'; When. Be confident, - you demand to be sure to ask him what cream he uses.

"Very overnice to meet you, too. Sorry, I didn't go to look at the interview list before I got here." He… This man didn't even look at your resume before coming? At least he has the good sense to false bashfulness. "I was decorated running lines with Debra Van Duck."

Oh, and he's a name dropper, too. You lot could laugh, simply yous force information technology down.

Instead, you smiling your own best smile and tilt your head just and then to the side. "Y/Due north. Y/North Fifty/N, it's a pleasure to encounter you Mr Starling."

~

"I know it is,"

You remember how he responded similar a total douche, and how much of your energy you used up swallowing the deep groan. Good lord, who is this guy? You had thought.

Well, now y'all have an answer- A guy you fucked on your manner upwards the ladder of fame.

No! You snap out of those self-loathing thoughts. No. Yous aren't doing that. You aren't 1 of those celebrities. Y'all have dignity…

"What were y'all doing, wearing my colours… ? Hm? Heheheh… "Darkwing's colours, sir, call back, rolling your eyes as Jim unties the blouses top, smile at your attire. He's sure misplaced the line between Jim Starling, and his grapheme, hasn't he? Slice of piece of work. "Certain got my attending. Good strategy."

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

"Whatever." You bite back an insult, and instead grip his scarf - love god, what a poser, - and drag him forward to connect your lips with the seasoned star's. He growls into your oral fissure, loving the animosity coming from such a cute daughter, and pulls away, dragging you the residue of the way through his hotel room, to the bedroom.

The scarf gets lost first thing when you make it there.

~

"- And that'south why I think I'm the best candidate to be your assistant for this picture." You finish, fingers wrapped around your coffee loving cup- from which you've barely drunk anything from beingness too busy siting your feel and your competencies to Mr Starling.

"My personal assistant."

Your eyebrows shoot upward your forehead. "Huh?"

"You'll be my personal banana, if I like you enough. You should say it." He smirks, liking something about that 'personal' part of the chore title. He takes a long sip of his ain drink, then- an impossibly detailed drinkable. The potable of an asshole. You are non looking forwards to ordering that thing for him every day. Those poor baristas.

"Okay… And, that'southward why I think I'1000- "Now that you've been corrected on one function of your conclusion, y'all re-think the rest suddenly also. It certain doesn't sound too confident, and yous need to sound confident. Gripping the cup tighter, you straighten your shoulders again and paste a winning grin to your immature confront. "And that'due south why I would be the perfect personal assistant for you, Mr Starling."

"Yous know what?" His voice gets deeper and huskier than earlier, dangerous. Optics half-lidded, he leans on his forearms beyond the table to y'all. "I recall and so too." Chop-chop that sexy lilt to his voice disappears once again and you take a jiff. Wow, that was… unexpected… "I question though! To what ends would yous become to in order to go this gig? Or, err… for me."

-

Your lips trace along his hips, feeling dirty, but nevertheless maxim it. Y'all don't really want this. Its business. Chanting it in your head. Over, and over… weakly. When you think. Every few minutes or and then.

You don't desire this… you… Yous don't actually want this. You don't….

But you're grabbing at straws at present equally you rub your thighs together, thinking this is unbelievably, darkly hot, and in a last-ditch, drastic effort at retaining what little nobility you might still possess, you say information technology out loud. Against the side of his erect. "I'm only doing this to get the chore. I'chiliad not drastic… "

"Aw," Once the clothes were off, Jim's voice permanently contracted that husky, hot quality from before and information technology fabricated you and then moisture. "Is that what you retrieve?" He sounds so disbelieving, as if the thought of you thinking that was so, very, ridiculous…

You choke, tears building in your eyes, and for a moment you pause. This was not how your career was supposed to get-go… you were supposed to be different. "Yep."

"Oh, sweetheart." A finger comes under your chin and guides your head upward to look him in the heart. There'south an evil, wise glint in it and one corner of his mouth quirks upward. "Do you really not get how Hollywood works, yet? Well," He chuckles. "Consider yourself lucky to exist initiated past Jim Starling, love. I'm gonna make y'all a star- merely keep doing what you're doin', alright?"

Holding his look for a moment, yous hear his words. You really hear them… and then prepare your jaw and narrow your eyes.

He's right, you will exist.

-

A smirk slips across your lips and yous find your own eyes half lidding, your fingers brushing your hair back off your neck, and that neck inclining to the side. Towing the line betwixt professionalism and flirting.

"Damn near annihilation, sir."

Approximate Claude Frollo:

Originally posted by velveteenghost

You tin can never be costless when yous're in dear with the bondage . - Shreya

Claude's face up twitches, which you lot find just adorably curious, as he kneels downwards between the confessional of your spread open thighs. The style he looks at your flower - the rose that the Grim Reaper might offering a disaster victim if he was feeling and so generous, equally your despicable little Guess would refer to it so unflatteringly, -, is a tingle generating cocktail of wicked hunger that, because he'south so bad, he won't resist and the misery of someone who wishes he could exist doing anything else. Simply he can't. Considering he doesn't want to be. And that's the kicker. "I did offer to do you, love. But you said you don't desire my dirty oral fissure anywhere near you… "

He rolls his shoulders back instead of whining and trembling like he used to, his cold easily finding the junctions beneath your knees. "That'southward correct." As he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours, gently. You wiggle your hips carefully, experimentally, to see how he reacts and catch a hot flash of red disappear down his neck below those clothes. The clothes of a religious man. Ha! "Who knows what else has been in that."

You lot bite your lesser lip, smirking. "I could tell y'all… "When he tightens his grip as a warning on your soft skin, you allow out a little giggle. For a moment, yous give him a break and just lean back on the leather desk-bound you've sat yourself on, bottoms-less, artillery out behind y'all holding you up as he begins his work. His natural language licks a stripe right upwards the centre of your lips, going straight in for the impale instead of fluffing around at all. You grinning at information technology, looking at the dark rock ceiling and hike a leg up the chair beside him- opening up more for him.

As he starts to get into it, enjoying your taste equally his lascivious moans tell you anything. Not to mention the fashion he'south devouring your pussy like a starving man. His tongue 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 plenty. Not of this. Greedy judge. "Ahhhh… "You moan, spreading your legs fifty-fifty more - as far as you possibly and he thankfully buries himself deeper into your cunt, - lips pressing badly to your hot peel.

Equally he starts to really scoop up the wetness out of the deepest parts of you with his tongue, slurping and inhaling his repast, you decide it's time to torture him. Just a piffling fleck! It's part of the fun of him.

Running your fingers through his hair and spreading them, feeling the soft tufts of grayness pilus, you smirk deviously, nastily, every bit the pleasure courses through your and bundles in your cunt from Frollo'southward desperation. "You lot know… "You let out a moan, and roll your hips into his face to encourage him, but are really focusing on the bombshell you're about to drib on this poor sinner. "I wonder… ah… if you lot… retrieve about… the… the ones bef-earlier you… "He chokes, gurgling on your elixir as that thought, and hopefully those mental images flash into his head. You peak down at him with one eye, wickedly.

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

Tightening your grip on his pilus, digging your fingers into his scalp, your pull locks at the same rhythm of his moans. "Do you think of them, Frollo? Huh? Filling me up with their flossy cum, until I'm so full that I couldn't possibly take anymore, and it came slithering out and splattering on the ground? Practice I nonetheless gustation like them, baby? Y'all love how I gustatory modality, don't you? Eating me out like a whore… "

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

- Not that he admits information technology out loud.

Human!Scar

Originally posted by learnforoneself

And of a sudden, the monster in him vicious silent as he laid his head on her lap. - 50.Westward

All y'all can think, as you stand there in shock with the whole pride watching y'all and Scar, with concerned looks on their faces but lips zipped, is; This homo watched you grow up. You used to play with his goddamn nephew.

Your pare crawls at the cognition, feeling his poisonous, nearly luminescent green optics on you and the delirious smirk on his lips as Zazu reads out the wedding ceremony speech, vox dawdling all around you lot, it seems, similar a horrible nightmare- only picking up with forced enthusiasm when Scar flashes a glare at him. His lips quirk up likewise, and a fluttery express mirth splatters out of him like blood from a slashed throat. This doesn't meet his eyes, either.

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

You lot're just staring at Scar, absolutely non listening to whatever of Zazu'due south words officiating this ridiculous ceremony; His long black hair has grey streaks coming from the scalp, there are numberless under his eyes equally he rarely sleeps, his tie isn't tied properly and his optics- god, those eyes. You keep getting stuck on them.

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

He's a disaster. He'due south a walking, talking, unstable, ruling disaster like a live volcano; Fix to explode at any given moment.

And he's forcing you to marry him.

Ally him.

Your breath hitches, sucking in deep suddenly every bit if y'all hadn't really been breathing for a while. Only continuing.

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

As you expect around the garden, as if awakening from a dream, your eyes fill with tears and your fingers become cold and begin to shake effectually the bouquet of lavander in your hands that is all you tin can smell. You manage to agree in your cries, though, until Zazu asks you if y'all'll have Scar'due south mitt in marriage.

And then suddenly, your sobbing and begging. "Scar. Please, you have to s-run into… this is crazy! You- Yous don't 50-l-love me… " Yeah, like that'south the issue with this union. But its all you can think to say amidst your desperate crying.

Every bit if spooked, he immediately jumps too - what a pair yous brand, -, except, he moves toward yous. Cupping your confront in his hands and continuing very close, looking into your eyes and so intimately that Zazu has to pace back from the scene. "Shhh, shhh, pet. No demand for tears. No, no, no, please don't cry… " His phonation, gravelly as ever, lilts like he truly feels deplorable for you. Like he sympathises with y'all.

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

"Now, at present, I know it'due south an emotional moment for the states darling simply delight, pull yourself together."

You do endeavor to bite your bottom lip and calm down, to your credit… only, of course, yous neglect. I mean? The situation definitely warrants, tears. "Scar, please just listen to me! - "You sniff, cheeks damp from your salty tears at present. He dries them with his thumbs, pouting at y'all with knit together eyebrows.

"Don't you see, my honey? You're going to be Queen. We're going to be married and be happy together, adored by our kingdom, living forever and leading the world. Together. And, in a year… "Your future husband sets y'all with a serious look, informing you of something. "We will accept children, together." Bitter dorsum some other weep at that, you try to rip out of his grip but he just makes calming noises like y'all're a wild beast and curls an arm tightly around your waist, property your jaw in one hand now. "Calm down now, love. We need to have a united front in front of our people!" His grip is surprisingly potent, what with his hold on his own heed precarious. You can't escape him.

"I am giving y'all a twelvemonth, later all. Isn't that nice of me? Anyhow, nosotros're having a wedding, now. Please smile, look your prettiest, and say… "He raises his eyebrows, earlier turning your head to look at Zazu, enunciating his words clearly. "I do."

johnsonposiciente.blogspot.com

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

Share this post