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1k1ga1 · 7 months

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Hello hope you are doing well, I am not quite sure if you are taking requests but if you are could you please write Yandere Deon hart i'm not that kind of talent

❝𝑇𝑂𝐺𝐸𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑅 , 𝐴𝑇 𝑆𝐾𝑌𝐹𝐴𝐿𝐿…❞

━━ 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀 💭 𝐈’𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓

━━ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 💭 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗 𝐆𝐍 ! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

━━ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 💭 18+ , 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 , 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 , 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 , 𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 never had the time to truly give the idea of a romantic relationship any thought. he’s a busy man, having grew up in a disorganized family and forced into the army at a young age, all that he had ever known was the cruelty of others and the rustic scent of blood. even when he crawled his way into the hero’s group, there was only ever more bloodshed and sacrifices. he’s only ever been exposed to war, not the affection which one shares with their lover.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 honestly expected his life to stay that way. what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, and having never experienced the gentleness of a lover, he never cared much to yearn for one. he already has his hands full enough with playing spy for both the lunatic emperor and the clingy demon king, all whilst trying to survive. it’s not like he’d ever have time to fall in love with anyone, right? well, that’s what he thought, until you came along.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 singled you out from the rest of his subordinates immediately. you had been assigned as his assistant. you, a demon that could easily overpower a weak human like him. you, a demon that was supposed to be bloodthirsty and cruel. and yet despite being a demon, he’s never met anyone as perfectly human as you.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 thinks you’re more human than demon when you smile at him so sweetly, exchanging kind gestures every now and then as an appreciation to your commander. you’re always going out of your way to take care of those around you, always smiling and complimenting and humming with that ridiculously melodious voice, the same voice that would call out his name so excitedly. you were never like the other demons who were constantly seeking to test their powers against him or were blindly subservient to him, although you didn’t quite see him as an equal either. you simply saw him as someone who “works hard and has a respectable work ethic. someone admirable.”

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 fell hopelessly in love with you right then and there, a metaphorical pink cupid’s arrow shooting through his heart at just how absolutely precious you are. it truly baffles the commander just how you could manage to be so wholesome despite hailing of the demon race.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 finds himself quietly pining for you after that moment. he’s not very experienced with the concept of crushing on someone or falling in love, therefore he’s absolutely clueless on what to do with his feelings or how to act on it. he doesn’t know what course of action he should take, and it’s not as if he could just ask one of the demons for advice. he’s left completely in the dark, yet there was still an instinctual human need to be closer to the object of his affection, and so the commander finds himself loitering around where he would usually spot you, hoping to catch a glimpse of your sparkling smile within the nest of havoc.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 is satisfied with just catching glimpses of you for a while. it’s enough for him that he could see your smile almost everyday, that is until you pick up on his regular appearances around the places you often visit and instead of calling him out on it or attempting to murder him, you instead invited him to chat with you.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 slowly but surely grew on you, and your little chats with your commander here and there gradually grew into longer conversations with topics focusing more on yourselves than the fleeting events around you. on some days, you even find yourself loitering in your commander’s room late into the night to continue whatever deep conversation the two of you were having. occasionally, you’d fall asleep and spend your night in his room, and deon never had the heart to disturb you, so he just let you be. although more often than not, the moment you’re asleep, deon finds himself quietly admiring you. he doesn’t do anything more than that at first, merely noting the way you breath and the murmurs you would say sleepily. it was honestly just heartwarming to him.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 considers you his close friend after all that time the two of you spent conversing and learning more about each other. you’re his friend, so he wants you to stay closer to him and spend more time with him. you’re his friend, so he wants you to move your room closer to his’. you’re his friend, so he wants you to always stay by his side every minute of the day. you’re his friend, so it’s fine if he gets a little possessive, right?

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 is an over thinker. who could blame him after all the horror he’s had to witness in his youth? he’s always been surrounded by people with ill intentions, those seeking to use him and those seeking to ruin him, yet in the midst of the chaos, there was you; a shining beacon of benevolence, practically heaven-sent with your generosity and beaming smile. yes, that’s right, you really must be an angel. an angel sent just for him, your touch just for him, your voice just for him, your smile just for him — it’s not as though anyone else in this world could be deserving of you.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 develops some odd habits after that realization. sure, he might’ve grown closer to you, but he never found the chance to express his feelings, and they’ve only grown deeper after the two of you became friends. his heart is untamed and clumsy, like a toddler handed destructive power when it barely knew how to walk. he doesn’t see the wrong in manipulating you to constantly stay by his side because “his body is still weak from the battle with the hero.” you’re his angelic friend, so there’s no way you could leave him be when he’s unhealthy, right? you’re always so generous too, so you won’t mind if he snag some trinkets from your room for safe keeping either, right?

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 develops these habits unconsciously, half the time not even realizing what he’s doing before it’s already done. perhaps it’s a true testament to how deep his feelings run for you to the point that he doesn’t even realize that he’s acting on it.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 is still inexperienced, but if by chance he somehow confesses to you about his true feelings, and if you were to accept, than expect his behavior to grow tenfold. deon will get more protective of you. he completely disregards wether you can protect yourself or not, it’s better if he is the one to protect you. oh, and those demon friends of yours, it’s better if you distance yourself from them too, they’re no good influences on your mind. if you don’t listen to his advice the first time, deon has no qualms using his title as the commander to seal those demons manipulating you behind a cell.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 usually doesn’t act on a whim with violent tendencies, but doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty if it’s for his beloved’s benefit. you’ve become the center of his world the moment you accepted his affection, so there’s no way he’d allow anything or anyone to ever lay a hand on you with ill intent.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 is exceptionally needy. he’s constantly clinging to you, seeking for affection like a touch-starved puppy. it’s almost as if he’s seeking out the affection that he couldn’t receive during his childhood, and just who are you to reject his advances when he sadly tells you the story of his past? deon has no problems guilt-tripping you into accepting his affectionate hold, and you’re just too kind for your own good.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 believes you can do no wrong. it’s not as if you’re a troublemaker like the other demons he’s been forced to meet in the first place, but deon’s so convinced that you must be some perfect saint that he practically worships you. in his eyes, you can do no wrong, but anyone who does you wrong can expect to have a glinting blade swiping at their neck when they least expect it. whatever you say or do is law, and deon will be the faithful servant who carries out your will

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓, his other personality that was crafted upon his insatiable bloodlust and ruthlessness, needs some time to adjust to your presence, however he’s more or less the same as the usual deon when he’s not faced with an enemy. demon arut is definitely more protective and controlling of you, always making you the first priority whenever a battle arises. he needs to keep you in his range of sight or else the he goes absolutely mad trying to find you, destroying anything that hinders his path.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓 is more sadistic than your usual commander. unlike deon who cares about your image of him and therefore has placed some restraints on himself, demon arut has no such concerns. he openly likes to tease you, almost going overboard with it because he likes getting any kind of reaction from you. he won’t intentionally be malicious towards you, he still loves you after all. however, if you receive a few cuts and bruises from battle or the likes, he will mock your competence and press on a few bruises, only after he’s made a bloody mess of the perpetrator who dared to touch an inch of your body.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓 will insist that you train with him so you can polish your skills. as a demon, you’re not lacking by any means, probably even better than the strength of five soldiers combined, however that doesn’t mean that you stand a chance against him. demon arut has beaten entire armies by his lonesome, so don’t be too disappointed when you fail for the nth time. he won’t praise you often, however, he will go easier on you compared to his unrelenting nature on the battlefield. although, it’s not as if you would ever need to put these skills to use and lift even a finger, he’ll always have you as his first priority to protect and get to safety.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓 is, like his name suggests, a demon. a demon who’s cruel and bloodthirsty and a hundred times more possessive and easily jealous. he won’t hesitate to make an example out of one of your comrades by gutting them in front of you if you get to chummy with them. well, he won’t hesitate to make an example out of anyone really, even his fellow commanders as long as he gets it through that cute head of your’s what lengths you’re capable of pushing him to.

━━ ✧ 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍, you’re basically holding onto the reins of a catastrophe that could take empires by storm, just be careful not to take your eyes off him for too long or that storm might just ruin you… although, it’s not as if he’d particularly care for your opinion on this matter. the two of you are lovers now, so it’s only right that you never part. even if the sky falls and the world is coming to and end, even in life and in death, the two of you will always be together, deon hart will make sure of it.

#manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #im not that kind of talent #intkot #—ichigo 💭#deon hart #demon arut #yandere imagines #male yandere #intkot x reader #im not that kind of talent x reader #yandere im not that kind of talent #webtoon #_𝟏𝐊𝟏𝐆𝐀𝟏_

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evilrashida · 11 months

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Deon Bray and Naomi Campbell backstage @ Gianni Versace Fall/Winter 1992.

#Deon Bray #Naomi Campbell #Gianni Versace

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behindthescreamz · 4 months

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newspaper ad for scream films 1 through 3 (1996 - 2000)

source: @geocitiesblues via X

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dxmoness · 10 months

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─────── YOU'RE HERE WITH ME. . .

━━━━ dion agriche. manhwa. twtpflob

‣ fluff with a twist ending! no warnings . ୨:୧

‣ masterlist . recent works . dion agriche ━━━━

Dion wakes up, the feeling of something heavy on his chest was unmistakable. It was her, his beautiful darling.

A smile appears on his lips as he leaned and kissed her soft skin. This caused her to wake and stare at him. His red eyes show joy in them as his hand runs through her hair, his fingers working their tangles.

"Mine..." He whispered sweetly as he kissed her passionately.

She smiles at him as his darling stands up and walks maybe she was going to make their food. He stretched his hands before he gets up to follow her.

His arm wraps around her as he buries his face in her neck, taking in her scent. The scent that drove him mad.

"What are you making?" He peeks to see her mixing batter. Thirty minutes later, both of them sat eating the muffins she made for them with some tea paired up with it.

Then he helps her out their cottage. This is where he retreated after all the chaos with his family. The place where he and his darling could stay without anyone from his family attempting to murder her.

He watches as she goes to tend to one of their flower patches. A small smile appears on his lips as he steps forward to her. He kneels next to the crouching female, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair back in place.

After tending to the plants, the two went horseback riding. Dion behind her, arms wrapped protectively around the female's waist. They took four laps through the normal trail before his darling starts going around random directions. Since he knew this forest well he allowed her to do what she wished. Then the two went back to the cottage where they ate lunch and lay together on the bed for rest.

Now it was evening, they were both on the sofa now. His head on her lap while she read. He, on the other hand, remained quiet and watched her. She was even more beautiful in the moonlight.

The two of them did this routine everyday. Eat breakfast, tend to the garden, horseback riding, eat lunch, nap together, eat dinner, read together or play games. Then it ended with sleeping together.

Now he comes back to his old home. His hand still on his darling's as he enters. Roxana greets him, not warmly but not coldly either. There is a certain tone to her voice as she speaks. "Is something wrong, Dion?"

"Name, don't run now..." Then a flash of alarm appears on Roxana's normally cold facade. "Dion?" "Yes?" "Did you say 'Name'?" "Yes, why?"

"Name died during the battle of our house years ago..."

─────── NOTE?!

haha...

─────── iNViTATiONS?!

@d10nsaint , @dion-s-lawyer , @dreamlessnight

#• . breve · short fics!#• . d. agriche #• . the way to protect the female lead's older brother · works!#x female reader #x female y/n #yandere x darling #dion agriche x reader #dion x reader #deon agriche x reader #deon agrece #dion agriche #the way to protect the female lead's older brother x reader #the way to protect the female lead’s older brother #the way to protect the heroine's brother #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtpflob #twtpflob x reader #twtptflob x reader #twtpflob dion

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snailsgoingdowntown · 3 months

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Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead's Sister in Law!

Re-upload due to complications.

Chapter 1

Dion x Fem! Reader

Warnings: possible yandere themes, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, slight incestual themes due to the content of “Roxana,” blood, mention of murder

Nsfw warnings: Lost of virginity (both parties?), fingering, oral (fem receiving), spit, reader does NOT get to finish, vaginal pain, HEAVY DUB/CON.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the harmful and dangerous actions/behaviors that takes place in this piece of fiction. These actions/behaviors should not be normalized or romanticized as they are extremely toxic and dangerous.

Minors/blank/blogs that don’t reblog fanfiction dni and don’t span like my posts or you will be blocked.

Overall story summary: you reincarnated into one of your favorite novel-turned-webtoons. However, you didn't want to become the female lead's sister-in-law...

Word count: 4542k

===

“The Way to Protect the Female Lead’s Older Brother,” also known as “ROXANA” was a rather dark novel that was adapted into a webtoon. And as luck would have it, the webtoon wasn’t finished, and you don’t remember all the details of the fan translated web novel you found online.

Now, why would that be a problem? Simple:

You reincarnated into it. Not as a main character, or even a servant to one of the families. You weren’t a child of Lant’s or one of his many wives. You weren’t a friend to one of his children, either. Instead, it was worse than most of what was listed.

Whatever God you managed to piss off had a silly little, petty revenge plan that was straight out of a third-rate horror novel with teenage girls fawning over it. And truthfully, if written right, the non-existent novel would have been a banger – but no, instead it was anything but. Or maybe you only really think that because of your position in this world, where your birth was simple, but painful for your mother, and you were lucky enough to be born into a family that loved and cared for and about you.

It was a noble family, to boot. Wealthy enough to live a comfortable life. Two siblings – an older sister who was already married at the age of thirty with a child on the way. The other was a 12-year-old boy who made it his life mission to be the most annoying little piece of shit on earth.

But as you lay on your back, hands holding your nightgown in place, all you could think about was how small Dion Argece makes you feel. The wedding ceremony just finished up hours ago, and here you are, back pressed against silk sheets as your now-husband hovers over you.

(Name) Argece.

What a horrible name and cruel faith.

Inky black hair that falls into his carmine red eyes that held indifference. His wedding-tux was still on, even the outer jacket with the silly lone rose in his pocket. Oh, what a shame – to be married to such a handsome man only for him to be obsessed with his sister and emotionally unavailable.

God despises you.

“Close your eyes if you’re uncomfortable.”

He unbuttons his outer jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and tosses it to the side. You should close your eyes, you think, because his face was nothing but stone. Not even a condescending grin. He doesn’t comfort you, either – at least not in the typical sense.

“Keep still,” his gloved hands grab your thighs and you let him open them, creating space for him to get closer. You want to push him away and run. But what good would that do? Why couldn’t the man just slice something and claim that the blood on the sheets was from your first night?

“I’m scared.” You speak without thinking, becoming stiff as his hands traveled from your outer thigh to the inner, creeping underneath your nightgown. His gloves feel cold and uncomfortable, touch borderline rough. “I – I need a moment. Please?”

He tilts his head, giving it thought. After a moment he removes himself, but annoyance radiates off him. Your heart beats faster as the second’s pass. You remain on your back. The ceiling is painted white, no decorations and the room was bare saved for a dresser, closet, mirror and a random chair by the window.

You will be sleeping in here, from now on.

“Can’t do it? Then don’t.” he’s annoyed, surely, otherwise he wouldn’t look at you like you were an insect. What a wonderful way to start the newlywed life. But it’s not that easy to walk away, and while it sounds like he’s giving you a say-so, he isn’t; if you don’t consummate your marriage tonight, then…

“… I’m sorry. It’s my first time and I heard there would be pain.” You shouldn’t have to explain yourself. But Dion wasn’t exactly known for his… compassion. Or basic human emotions, either.

If this was someone else, would you be able to do it? Where did everything go wrong? This didn’t happen in the novel; Dion didn’t get married. There wasn’t a grand wedding with the Five Ruling Families in attendance. Nor was there a steamy scene with this man throughout the novel, not even in the side stories.

How did you end up here?

“Then relax.” If you weren’t scared of losing your life you would have run him over. It affects everything! Then again, it wouldn’t matter to him – this is a duty. Not something he wanted, you’re sure, and even if he did it would only have his best interests in mind.

“… I’m ready.” You don’t answer him, because it would only lead to a one-sided argument. Even a wall listens better. Despite your wishes, Dion does the same as last – settles in-between your legs, and this time, you close your eyes.

“Good. Try to relax or it won’t fit.” Your cheeks burn at that, mind already picturing how it would look. Many men say things like that, even in your old world. It’s just a thing they said, like with many things. It doesn’t really mean anything, because if it did then…

His gloves are still on, cold and grip tight on your thighs. You were hoping he would be gentler. But as his hands travel up and up until they’re pulling at the edges of your underwear to slide them down, you realize he won’t.

There’s no slickness down there, your underwear dry and vagina even drier. You peek through your eyelashes, watching as he inspects the article of clothing. He tosses it a few seconds later.

“I’m only going to ask once – would you rather keep your clothes on or off?” It seems that with every second reality just hits harder and harder. This was going to happen. Nothing could stop it. And if hypothetically, if he were to stop this, what then?

Even if he sliced an arm to fake the night, what about later? A baby, Lant wants Dion to have a child. No. You couldn’t do that to a child, especially yours.

“On. Please.” You expect him to just shove in a finger or two, watching as your body jerks in pain. Instead, he lifts your hips until your bottom was off the bed and flips the flimsy skirt up. And then there’s a glob of something wet and gooey, legs twitching as it lands on your bare cunt.

“D – did you just… spit?” steading yourself on your arms, you look on in disbelief as your husband just spat on your pussy. A string of saliva hangs from his tongue.

Instead of answering you, much less look at you, his thumb comes into play and spreads his saliva over the surface of your cunt. It’s only when his thumb swipes over your clit do you let out a shaky breath.

Maybe he was feeling generous or maybe he was curious. Dion decided to rub the twitching nub over and over until your legs twitch and cunt clenched around nothing. The glove made it uncomfortable, but even so, you just tried your best to focus on the pleasure. You weren’t sure if he would give you pleasure like this again.

“You’re enjoying this,” he retreats his hand leaving your twitching and needy clit lonely.

A pathetic whimper escapes as you watch your husband take his glove off with his teeth. This man is everything you fear and more, a character that you should have never met. Yet the sight of him lowering his head to lick a long stride against your slit has your legs shaking.

His tongue is warm and slimy, causing your hands to clench the sheets as your head falls back. Another lick and another until it’s flicking your clit back and forth, sending warmth throughout your body. However, despite the pleasure he’s giving you, his grip is still tight, almost painful on your hips.

Your heartbeat doesn’t slow down as he continues. Your fear barely dies down in your chest, even as the tip of his tongue teases your entrance. You shut your eyes tight, a breathless gasp leaving your lips as he thrusts his tongue into your cunt.

“It feels – “a pause as you catch your breath, “weird, it feels really weird and – “

Dion repeats the action until you’re a trembling mess, sensitive from your mental state and the current oral sex you’re receiving. It’s hard to focus on either one, your mind constantly reminding you that you’re in a novel, about to fuck a man who’s jaded and possibly has a thing for his sister –

“Ah… wait, that’s a lot…” he decides to go further, bringing his thumb back and rubs loose circles into your clit. He’s still eating you out, but not like a man starved like you read in erotic novels.

Even so, your husband keeps at it. If it was a good or bad thing was up for debate – on one hand, while it does feel good, everything is moving too fast, your pleas for slowing down falling on deaf ears. It really is a lot, tongue fucking you while those loose circles on your clit become tighter, rougher. Should you just lay back and take what he gives?

Your mother would probably say so. Your sister would just pat your head and smile like it was expected. Normal. Take what he gives, especially if it benefits you in any way.

“…?” your eyes open at his tongue leaving your cunt with a saliva trail, his eyes glued to your twitching sex. His thumb also stops rubbing circles, instead going back to grip your hip as your back starts to become sore. Your ass is still off the bed and if he keeps you hosted up like this, then you really will snap in half.

But then he locks eyes with you.

“I thought you were scared.” Dion doesn’t let you respond, either because he doesn’t care or because it would ruin the ‘mood.’ He latches his mouth to your poor, abused nub instead. And sucks.

“H-hey!” one hand supporting you while the other grabs at his hair, you didn’t expect him to throw your legs over his shoulders. “That’s enough, really, no need to – ugh…” his mouth was warm and soft, but it sends your nerves on fire.

Good. Bad. Good. Bad.

Good, bad, does it matter anymore?

He sucks harder and your fingers tug harshly at his hair. You kick your legs but are unable to tell if it’s from pleasure or the flight or fight response he’s causing you. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t bat an eye, making it his life mission to suck you dry.

“Ah – wait, Dion – “

It’s at your whine of his name does he finally, finally stop, a ‘pop’ when he detaches his mouth from your sensitive and bullied clit. Your husband decides to lick one last long stripe from your entrance to your clit, all the while making eye contact with you. Your chest heaves as your mind settles, arousal overthrowing your thoughts.

“What is it?” Monotone, his voice is monotone and he’s not even out of breath. Your mother lied, there’s not even a hint of pink across those cheeks. It’s fine, though – no, it’s not, it’s baffling how steady he seems when your back is about to break, and you can’t even breathe.

Your eyes travel from his to his hair, where your hand is still grasping the strands. Mind still catching up to your body, you let go and draw your hand back, covering your eyes with it. Your entire body is shaky and legs sore. You’re not used to this position.

“It – it’s enough.” Your husband lets you pull your legs back, feet pressing against his broad shoulders as you bring them back down. The relief is almost immediate, a pleasurable and relief-filled sigh leaving your chest. You allow yourself to rest for a bit, your sensitive cunt and sore legs screaming for it.

“… O – okay, I think, I think that’s fine. Excuse me…” gently, you pull one leg up until your foot is flat against the bed. With a shudder, you trace your entrance timidly with two fingers, getting used to the touch. You’re not sure of how big he was, but you’ll use three fingers just in case.

You gape like a fish when his hand reaches out, grabbing yours roughly. You didn’t even notice the dip in the mattress as Dion got closer on his knees, face inches away from yours. Oh God, now what –

“What are you doing?” clearly annoyed, Dion doesn’t let you look away – not that you were going to – free hand grabbing your face, pointer finger and thumb on each cheek. It’s barely loose enough to leave no bruises. It hurts regardless.

“I – I was… prepping…” part of you wants to pretend that this man doesn’t know how to comfortably prepare you for pentation with his… but you know better. Because an inexperienced man wouldn’t know how to do things with his tongue like that, or where the clit was because –

“Are you still scared?” The hand that was holding yours releases it, opting to sneak its way to your cunt. His fingers were larger than yours, nimbler as they stroke your labia minora. Are the shivers washing over you from nervousness or arousal?

“… I’m scared of the pain.” By instinct, you knew he meant more than scared of sex – if you feared him. Still.

It doesn’t need to be said.

“Scared of the pain?” His eyes glow in the moonlight, bright red with absolutely no emotion. “Why?” he doesn’t break eye contact as his fingers inch closer to your entrance, stroking the opening, making your legs jolt. What a horrible man.

You remind yourself that this man only felt fear as a child – and even then, it probably wasn’t for very long. Nothing lasts for long, in this estate.

“Because I hate it.” You don’t break eye contact either, breathing in when one finger slowly sinks in, your walls now stretching uncomfortably. It’s not as painful as you thought it would be, your wetness mixed with his saliva making it easier. Your nails are about to rip holes in the silk sheets.

Like a curious animal, he tilts his head, curling his finger. It doesn’t feel good, it hurts, but you endure it even when you wince. Dion decides it would be a good idea to spread your legs a bit further, and like a bug, crawls between them even more. You hiccup when he adds a second finger.

They’re bigger than yours, they reach deeper. In your old world, did it feel like this too? You can’t remember.

“It’s going to hurt worse if you don’t let me finish this. Relax your legs before it hurts worse.” Pressure builds in your eyes, but you fight it off. “Save your tears for when it matters.”

You’re tired of him already.

He doesn’t move them, at first. It’s almost like he expects this, because as you adjust to something foreign inside you, he starts to rub at your clit, again. Softly this time, touch firm enough to feel but not hard enough to hurt. Or maybe you’re lying to yourself because you’re wincing, still.

When he starts to thrust them in and out, you force yourself to look at the ceiling, scared to see the expression on his face. You also don’t want to watch the show, scared it’ll already be bloody. Just a bit.

“It’s tight.” He states it like it’s the morning news. “And wet.” Your cheeks burn with both shame and embarrassment, shutting your eyes.

“… ugh…,” groaning, your hand reaches out to grab his wrist. “It hurts, a lot.” You sit up, back against the headboard, avoiding your husband’s gaze. Unfortunately, by doing this, your eyes land on your messy hole, light blood on his fingers as he pulls them out only to thrust them in again.

“It’s normal. The more you resist the worse it gets.” You give up, letting him do as he pleases, shutting your mouth.

The fingering still hurts as the minutes go by, but little by little the pressure eases down and when he arches his hand, he hits something soft and spongy. He’s rewarded the sight of your head banging against the headboard once, shoulder tense as you bite your bottom lip.

If only you could see that look in his eyes.

“Here?” He repeats the action, faster this time. You only nod your head, lips ajar, tongue swiping over them. Your hips have a mind of their own, raising as the heel of his hand rapidly smacks against your clit with his thrust of his hand.

You’re half there mentally and halfway in heaven, momently forgetting just who was here with you, who room this belonged to, and your entire situation to begin with. “Oh - wait, it’s a lot but – “

A third finger is added, and it starts to sting again. Another wince, another groan, but your arousal helps to keep the pain to minimum. All three fingers curl to hit that special spot that makes you see blacked out stars and pussy clench. All the while light blood coats his fingers, a sight he’s already used to due to his lifestyle.

It’s only when he pulls his hand away completely do you return from the skies, a small layer of sweet coating your forehead. Your hands are shaky as you look at him, only to be drowned back into reality when you’re met with those red, indifferent eyes that glow brighter than the moon.

“If you’re ready, lay on your back and spread your legs.” He undoes his pants while saying this, scooting back to give you some room.

With a heavy heart, you do so, laying on your back and spread your legs. You were fine just moments ago, so why is your heart leaping out of your throat rather than staying in your chest? Maybe it was because of the pleasure, or…

You’re scared, again.

You don’t look when something fat and heavy plops onto your pelvis. You don’t look when he brings you closer by your thighs. You don’t look as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds, catching on your clit.

“Relax or it won’t fit,” he reminds you before pushing the fat head in. At first, it’s a sting no bigger than an ant bite. But then another inch goes in, and you feel like a sword is cutting you straight up open, your legs tensing and hands grasping his forearms in a futile attempt to stop him.

Your nails dig into his sleeves, and you can feel the skin underneath. The tears build up as your face becomes hot, taking in deep breaths like it would soften the intruding body part.

“Big – it’s too big, it’s not going to fit – “

“… You look cute when you cry.” It’s sinister, teasing and everything that makes your stomach drop. His thumb wipes away your tears that’s already staining your skin. But he stops regardless, if only to shut you up if nothing else.

You think a few minutes pass but it’s hard to tell when he’s still inside, pulsing and you could feel every vein on his cock. It’s thick, it’s big and you don’t think you’re equipped to handle it, handle him. He’s everything that ruins your sense of self, that makes your dreams shatter and fear rot you from the inside out.

But he’s your husband…

But he’s your husband.

“Relax,” he inches in deeper, slower this time, but not letting you get a word in. Your nails dig deeper, and if it weren’t for his shirt, you would have drawn blood. Another inch, another gasp that leaves you breathless, grasping for anything that could keep you grounded. The only thing you could grab was him, however.

“Dion, Dion, you’re going to break me, I can’t – I can’t – “

“You can. You have to.” Was his voice raspy, just now? If so, it worries you, because you just remembered one very important detail – Dion Argece was, if nothing else, a sadist. Be it from his childhood trauma, or if he would be like this regardless of, he loved seeing Roxana cried.

It never occurred to you that he would love seeing you cry, too.

How deep was he? It feels you’re being speared open, his cock bullying its way into your virgin hole. You weren’t a virgin in your last life, but it didn’t hurt like this. It had hurt, felt like you were being ripped, but not enough to make you cry and breathless.

You think you can feel blood trickling down your ass crack. “Please tell me you’re almost there, please…” sniffling, you look up at your husband, the man taking your virginity in the name of ‘marriage.’ A mirror shatters in the back of your mind.

There was a flush across his cheeks. Pupils blown wide and a small grin on his lips. He was enjoying this. Your pain, your tears and perhaps even your fear – he was enjoying this.

It would have been better if he didn’t feel anything, you think. Just a stone statue that was performing its task. But even monsters had emotions, you guess.

“I’m not. Just endure it for a bit longer – I’ll stop once I’m at the hilt.” Was he a liar in the novel? You think he was, otherwise, the overtaking of the Argece family wouldn’t have happened. Lant wouldn't be dead. But things haven’t followed the novel to a T – this was proof enough.

“You’ll stop? Like, completely? You – you took my virginity, so that should be enough. Right?”

You hate it when he keeps wiping your tears away. Or when he slides in even more, your blood coating his stupid dick. You hate it when he brings one hand to toy with your clit, granting you pleasure that was just overthrown by the smothering pain traveling up to your belly.

He doesn’t answer. And that was enough for you to rake your nails down the back of neck, drawing blood in return. He’s making you bleed, so it was only fair if you could too, right?

Deeper and deeper until his balls rest against your bottom and pelvic meeting yours. Surprisingly, your husband keeps his word, letting you adjust to the new feeling. It feels heavy. It feels like a heartbeat, like a rod that was stuck. It felt awful.

How long did it take you to get used to it, in the past? No longer than fifteen minutes max, right? No, shorter than that. Then again, it didn’t hurt this much, but that partner was more loving, more caring, gentler –

“Who are you thinking about?”

The question breaks you out of your daze. You blink, once, before you question him back. He only glares in response.

Panic fills you when he pulls out, pain still there, blood still trickling down. “Wait, you’re – “

“I’m what?” he pulls out until only the head remained inside. You try your best to ignore the bruising grip he has on your hips. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. If you survive this, anyway.

God, if you’re listening, please let this night end peacefully.

“B-big. It’s going to hurt, please don’t…” dragging your hands down from his neck to his chest, your fingers dig into his shirt.

“Hm. A shame, really; you still must give birth, eventually. It’s better to get used to it now than later.” Your mind doesn’t catch up with your body, legs tensing when he slides oh so carefully back in, like he didn’t just push your worries aside like nothing. “Relax.”

“Dion,” hiccupping, you brace yourself, head nuzzling into his chest as your hold on his shirt tightens. When he pulls back out, you could feel every detail, every vein trail, his grith truly opening you. He graces you a mercy, going at a languid pace, minimizing the pain. His thumb never stopped rubbing your clit, either.

It goes like that, for a good while. Slow and steady, your hushed sobs dying on your lips, your husband careful with his thrusts, but not his grip. It was almost comforting, in a way. But you were still scared of him, and of what will happen after this.

“… I have a proposition.”

His hips stop and your ears perk up.

“You want me to stop, correct?” Dion pulls back until he’s on his heels, his cock dragging along your walls. You wince before breathing out. He doesn’t even try to hide the sadistic look in his eye as he sees the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. He almost grins in glee.

“Y-yes…” You don’t let go of his shirt. “Why…?” there’s hope inside you, but dread starts to rot it away.

“Jerk it.”

“…what?”

He was different from the novel. Extremely so, because you doubt that Dion would suggest a thing, much less give you a choice in the matter. That Dion would have either ignored you and this night or take you as is, no mercy, no humanity granted if this took place at the beginning at the novel.

When he doesn’t repeat himself, you pull yourself up until you’re resting on your knees. The sight of blood both on his cock and the sheets make you gag and thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it. Hesitantly, you take him into your hands, fingers barely able to close around it.

It throbs in your hand.

Your blood is coating your hands now, too.

Only silence is between you, your hands working him. Your thumb swipes over his head, circling it before stroking his dick up and down. Your other hand plays with his balls, massaging them. You’re not sure how long it would take him to finish.

Your core throbs in pain, and you become worried over the thought of peeing. It would probably hurt.

You want to sleep.

Without giving it much thought, just like your husband, you spit on it, a glob of saliva falling onto the staff. It throbs harder. And when you look at him, tired eyes and drool still dripping down from your tongue, still jerking him off –

“…Ngh…”

It’s almost cute, the way sperm spurts out and makes a mess on your hands. The very small and fleeting look of embarrassment on his feature is almost enough to comfort you. But when there’s barely a sheen of sweat adoring his forehead, unlike you was still recovering, you’re reminded that your husband was different from you.

There are no kisses, no sweet nothings shared between lovers. No stroking your hair or comforting your trembling form as your legs shake. Or even an offer to warm a bath for you, the warm water soothing your body. There’s none of that.

Not even a smile.

“Welcome to the Argece family, wife.”

Instead, all that awaits you is a restless sleep on a bloodied mattress with a husband who left after cleaning himself up.

Which God despises you so much and why?

#dion agriche #dion argece #Dion x reader #yandere dion agriche #deon argece #dion agriche smut #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #deon agrece x reader

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blueangelcakes · 2 months

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Oh, you responded fast (≧▽≦), but anyway, can I request a friendship headcannon with Deon since I read your post about him it make me curious about how the friendship was before (or after if you want to write that) but I like to think that he's someone that is fun to tease (*＾3＾)/～☆

AHHHHH TJANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING I WAS WAITING TO INFO DUMP ABOUT ITTT

your parents were friends with deon's so naturally your parents tried to make you guys become friends and in true childlike fashion you didn't want to at first

Until you actually did you just loved to braid his hair it's so silky! You wonder how he does it often

You met cruel but didn't like him much, he is much to serious for your liking

After meeting Deon and befriending him you'd ho over to his house often, since your estate was not too far away

But Deon wasn't aloud to go to yours to hang out, the poor boy was much too fragile an you understood and keep going over to his

You teased him a lot he wa just too cute! You pinching his cheeks was not rare!

He was very shy at fist but eventually started warming up to you ableit slowly tho

Oh. My. God when he wa in his whole emo phase bullshit? You teased tf outta himm every vist and he was dragged through the MUD

But you weren't serious and he didn't take it to heart it was more for some comedy and get him to loosen up a little

You have been with him for a long time you understand him the most out of any one youve shared you struggles and hope with each other hoping for them to come true.If only they could've..

As deon was dragged away from you and cruel you tried to get him out of their grip screaming and crying, the normal teasing attitude you had completely gone. It hurt it,really did, to see your best friend be dragged away from you as his brother stood and watched.

In the end he was taken away and you were left crying, cruel had already left, and it was then that you were truly alone.

The carriage ride home was empty the usual giddiness gone, you didn't even know when you got home, it was as if everything just blended together.

#deon hart #im not that kind of talent #reader #i am not that kind of talent x reader #deon hart x vampire reader #deon Hart x reader #manhwa #manhwa x reader

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atalante241 · 5 months

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Shout out to Zhongli for being the only archon who hasn’t gotten his shit kicked in on some form in the main story

#genshin impact #zhongli #venti #raiden ei #raiden shogun #nahida #furina #focalors #genshin archons #genshin archon #morax #rex lapis #barbatos genshin impact #i cannot spell raiden’s deon name #lesser lord kusanali #genshin buer #archon quest

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lexsssu · 4 months

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Beast (Dion Agriche)

TAGS: Dion/Dragoness!reader, pining, pervy thoughts, breeding, oneshot Ao3 ver.

This place felt…sad.

The towering manse was objectively magnificent and yet an air of gloom seemed to envelop the very air that passed through the exquisite halls. Though perhaps it could be attributed to the unmistakable metallic scent that hung heavily within almost every corner of the estate.

Whether it was the main courtyard, the gardens, or from deeper within, the darkness that settled over the entire structure was like a shroud of death that beckoned victims to fall into the sweet embrace of oblivion. It’s only through luck however, that they can either meet a swift end or a drawn out and miserable one.

Judging from the melancholic or downright pained expressions upon the ghostly specters that roamed the area, it’s safe to say that this was a place of great suffering and tragedy. None of the actual living occupants could see them, most especially that man whose soul harbored an impressive amount of corruption for a human. No matter how many angry spirits clung to him in hopes of dragging his soul straight out of his body in order to enact their just revenge, each death done or ordered by his hand only seemed to further the taint.

It’s almost as if he drew power from the lives he’d stolen.

He wasn’t the only one who attracted the attention of the restless souls. The man’s children who tried to follow in his footsteps also had a trail of bodies before them even before they could be called adults. Even one of his wives, a seemingly spritely woman with doll-like features, took lives as easily as getting rid of unpleasant pests.

In conclusion, this family is as cursed as the land they had stained with rivers of blood over the years.

Much to your surprise however, not every Agriche shared a penchant for senseless murder. One of the eldest living daughters (Roxana) only had a single ghost following her and even then, the ghostly image of the teen boy didn’t seem to want to tear her limb from limb like all the others. Rather, he followed after her much like a puppy who only wanted to keep up with her pace. Sadly, the blonde never seemed to take notice of the boy who bore remarkably similar features with her even as he tried to reach his hand out to touch her.

For she lives within the plane of the living, while he now resided in between life and death, unable to move on due to regrets or some other unfinished business you didn’t know of.

The question is…are you content with staying as a mere observer?

The blonde youth perks up the moment he realizes you can see him, sheer relief brimming from every pore within his spectral body when you speak your first words to him. He is rich with the secrets Lante Agriche fights tooth and nail to prevent from ever seeing the light of day.

A lonely boy becomes lonely no more and a displaced dragoness finds that becoming lost wasn’t too bad when you have good company around you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dion doesn’t dream.

Considering the amount of blood that stained his rough hands, it is better that he only descends into nothingness whenever he rests his eyes, for one could only imagine what horrors lay in wait to torment him for all the atrocities he’d committed. He’s not afraid of the ghosts of his victims, but rather finds it useless to think of flames that had already been snuffed out when they could no longer influence the living in any way.

But then something changes.

He feels a soft, warm touch that gently traces the length of his nose, cups the sharp angles of his face, and even delves into his dark locks. Though his eyes remain closed, his own subconscious supplies him with the image of hands much smaller than his own large ones that poked and prodded at him without fear.

While he would have caught the appendages and mayhaps stuck a knife into anyone who decided to lay their hands upon him, Dion knows that this could only be a dream because who would even dare to caress him so gingerly in the middle of night within the Agriche’s own manor? If anything, he finds his dreamself to commit to memory the feeling of such a gentle touch being bestowed upon him, because rationally he knows that he has no need for softness. In the confines of his own subconscious however, he supposes that he can allow himself this at the very least.

When he wakes up at the crack of dawn, it is to open windows with its blinds fluttering as the morning breeze makes its way to his room, bringing with it not just the familiar scent of iron that seemed to permanently surround the place he’d grown up in.

Though he cares not for flowers specifically, he does have knowledge on their practical uses such as poisons and the like. He also prefers knowing the native flora and fauna of the hunting grounds he’d be thrown into in order to get a better grasp of the terrain.

Blooming honeysuckles make his brows furrowed in confusion despite his stone-cold exterior, confused as to how and why such a scent overpowered the ever present iron tang in the air.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Dion remains oblivious to the shared laughter between a woman with ivory in her hair and a boy whose eyes reflected the deep, bright expanse of the open sky as they watched him stick his head out of his windows to locate the origin of the oddity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“YOU...”

“...Me?”

Dion feels his body practically burning from the inside-out, his heart beating several miles per minute as he finally gets a good look of the poltergeist that haunts his nights. He remembers the tender touches you press against his skin, the warm caresses that leave him gasping for breath and his loins aching for sweet release by the time he’s released from your clutches once dawn has broken.

He does not need your sweetness.

He has no use for your gentleness.

And yet he craves it.

He has never desired anything.

He has never felt so strongly about anything other than the swish of his blade, the gurgling of his victims, and the blood splattered against the ground as another mark of his martial prowess.

And yet you drove him to become more of a feral beast than he ever was as he now wished for nothing else other than to possess your whole being just as you possessed him without even meaning to.

“...are MINE”

Your surprised squeak is music to his ears, the flush on your cheeks pleasing the beast that sought to have you pressed down on the ground and taken ruthlessly, flooding your fertile womb with his virile seed...

To be continued(?)

#lexsssu writes #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #dion agriche #dion agriche x reader #dion agriche x you #dion agriche x y/n #deon agrece #deon agrece x reader

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