#lyney x dom!reader

[brayneworms]

and teary faces know the craft | lyney

kinktober day one: lingerie

word count. 1.8k

content. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, lingerie, making out, both lyney + reader getting blueballed, allusions to jealousy + insecurity, somewhat established relationship, lyney is a bratttt, gender neutral reader

♪ death kink - fontaines d.c.

notes. call that lyngerie

kinktober 2024 m.list | regular m.list

He's a tease. 

You should more than likely stop being surprised by it; like the owl is wise and the bake-danuki is curious, it's simply in his nature. The coy flutter of a lash, the point of a toned leg, the briefest catching of his amethyst eyes on yours at something that could be construed as innuendo. A flash like the white spark of a kamera bulb, and then gone again, retreating into shadow like it was never there in the first place. 

Backstage smells like pine wood and wax. The stage squeaks with each turn of Lyney's boot upon the shining floor. In around an hour, the Opera Epiclese will be seething with audience members, packed in and huddled tight for the show. For now, it is only a palimpsest; the only people in the seats for now are you and Freminet, who maintains a shy distance a couple rows in front of you, fiddling with his little robotic penguin. You think he's started to grow used to your presence—and he's pretty sharp beneath the sandy bangs, his eyes snagging on little things others might gloss right over.

You suppose Lyney and Lynette are similar, though; beneath different veneers, all of Arlecchino's children are remiss to let any small detail slip by them. 

You suppose it's a mark of the Hearth, that inclination towards neuroticism. 

"And voila!" The twins' routine finishes with a swish of Lynette's skirt and Lyney's arms raised towards the domed ceiling. "What did you think?"

Freminet raises his head. "It was great," he mutters. "As always. The bit with the water tank is new, right?"

"It's merely a spruce-up of our old bit with the box," Lyney smiles. "But yes, essentially, it's new."

Freminet hums. "Well... be careful, is all. I liked it though."

Lyney beams. It's an inevitability that his gaze turns to you then, hunched a little further back. "And you, our dear guest? Do you concur?"

You raise your chin. "I think... it's your best work yet." 

The smile Lyney offers is beatific—and genuine, you know, only because your own praise is such. As someone who lives a life half behind a mask, Lyney has become well-tuned to the frequency of other people's lies; it's why, you often think, he's so enamoured with you. Because you don't lie to him. 

"Does that mean we can take a small break?" Lynette asks, fiddling with a glove. "I'd like a chance to refresh before the real show."

"Of course, of course. I would say we've more than earned it." As Lynette makes her way offstage, probably on the hunt for a teahouse, Freminet trails after her and Lyney catches your eye. You approach up the centre aisle that runs through the middle like a parting through a scalp, up to the edge of the stage. It’s so tall that it comes up to your chin, and Lyney extends a hand down to help you haul yourself up. It smells like rosewood and wax up here, settling pleasantly in your nose. Lyney watches you, eyes wide, earnest. He has such a sweet face, if you can learn to ignore the gleam in his eye. 

“Want to help me get ready?” he asks casually. You bite back the urge to raise a brow; he looks stage-perfect already, down to the outfit. He doesn’t need help with a damn thing.

All you say is, “Sure,” and he leads you happily through the maze of corridors backstage to his dressing room. He and Lynette have separate ones here, which is nice; neither of them particularly like sharing space. Lynette keeps her things organised, and Lyney… decidedly doesn’t. He’s not a messy person by metric, but he does tend to charge forward toward the goal without realising the trail he was leaving in his wake. 

The dressing room is modestly sized, draped in swaths of red and gold cloth that make it feel heady and hot and close. A sparkling mirror edged in something that glows lurid and blue-white, throwing your features into sharp relief; and a complimentary basket of local Fontainian specialities which you pick through with interest, coming up with foreign titian fruits and crystal bottles of fizzy alcohol.

“So…” Lyney hovers at your shoulder, watching you pick through the cellophane-wrapped morsels. “You really liked the show?”

“I did.” You put back some fancy chocolate thing and turn to face him; he doesn’t back off, watching with his hands twisting like snakes before him. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was nervous. “You’re really getting into it. Lynette’s working very hard.”

It’s a prod, a careful poke—and as you guessed, Lyney pouts. If he had ears like his sister, they’d probably be pinned back against his head right now. “Only Lynette?” 

 A slow grin spreads over your face like molasses. “Oh, I see. You’re fishing for something.”

“Ahaha… I don’t fish.” He crosses his arms over his chest, chin jutting petulantly. “But when you go out of your way not to compliment me, you can’t blame me for thinking the worst. Perhaps my loveliest guest of all is losing interest?”

“Perhaps,” you say mildly, then backtrack as soon as his expression falters. “Oh, come on. You know what I think of you. Must I say it every time.”

“You could stand to say it more.”

“I bought you that lovely gift only a few days ago.”

Lyney’s eyes flash; that gleam, like the side of a cut amethyst. “Oh, I remember,” he says coyly. “I’ve grown quite familiar with it, in fact.”

The notion makes heat flare in your gut. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm.” He pauses, smiles—catlike, just a hint of sharp teeth between the plush peach of his lip. “You might say I’m familiar with it right this second, actually.”

You blink. Your mouth is as dry as the Great Red Sand. “Are you trying to tell me—”

Tease. It’s in the way Lyney’s face slips into an innocent little smile as he hooks a finger over the cuffed edge of his shorts and yanks it up enough to expose a glimpse of rouge lace. Unable to stop yourself, your hand flies out, keeping it there. You stare from it to him. 

“Are you serious?” you whisper. 

Lyney giggles. “I take this to mean you’re not losing interest, then?”

“I’ll kill you.” You sound too hoarse. “Show me.”

Lyney casts a slow, obvious look at the ornate clock hung open the wall. “Y’know, I’m just not entirely sure we have time right now, dearest.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” you mutter, fingers hooking onto his stupid bodysuit and fumbling at the buttons. You can feel his stomach flex with silent laughter at your obvious eagerness; usually you’d be trying to reign it in—the last thing a tease like him needs is more fire to stoke the fuel of his ego—but sue you. He knows what buttons to press. He has way too much power in his sleek gloved hand. 

You get a handle on the suit and yank it down with difficulty to his knees. What you’d seen a glimpse of were two thin silky garters, encircling the plush of his pale thighs, just about hidden by the hem of his shorts. One wrong move and they’d slip out from under the black leather, glaringly visible to everyone. The idea makes you feverish with anger and also so turned on you can barely see straight. 

The garters clip onto dusky pink underwear, arching gracefully over his pubic bone to encircle the triangle of his waist. When you lift a trembling hand to lift his shirt, you see a matching bralette, satiny cups tight against the soft swells of his pectorals. You can see straight through the gauzy fabric, coffee-coloured nipples pebbled under your attention. 

“I hate you,” is the first thing that come out of your mouth. The sight of him in this sparkling pink-red set makes you want to do unspeakable things. You want to ruin that fabric forever and buy him a new one. A dozen new ones in hundreds of different shades, ruin them systematically, rinse, repeat. 

He laughs again, but even his facade has its limits; he sounds slightly breathless, and you can see the faint pink blush on his cheeks starting to crawl down his chest. His collarbones gleam like cut diamonds, archons you wish you could bite them. “I take it you approve?”

Your answer is as animalistic as you feel, the rough crush of your lips over his. You’re rewarded with a muffled mmphf?! as your weight pushes the both of you back against the table, sending the cute basket of edible arrangements sprawling in a mosaic upon the floor. You muscle your way between Lyney’s legs, the press of his stiffening cock so close through only the wisp of organza, hot and insistent as a brand mark. Your hand tangles in his hair, dragging him impossibly closer as your lips duck to press against his butter-soft skin, his jaw, his neck—

“N-no marks!” he gasps, even as he presses his hips against yours with a moan. “Dearest, lovely, mon chérie, please—”

“You’re so pathetic,” you whisper into his neck, feel the buzz of your words sink into the soft skin of his throat. Lyney shudders and whines his protest. “No time, remember? Whose fault is that?”

“I just wanted—you to look at me,” he grits out, legs locked around your waist. It occurs to you that his fears of you losing interest are likely to be grounded in reality, dressed up with a lilting voice and wave of a hand. Your heart twitches. 

“I’m always looking at you, stupid.” 

Lyney’s cheeks darken, brows coming together as a sort of glaze slides over his eyes. This look you’re familiar with; it makes your breath hitch. He leans forwards, lips parted—

Three sharp knocks at the door. “We’re on in fifteen minutes, brother.”

Lyney’s whole body scrunches up, a cold disappointment stealing over his face. He looks to you desperately, but you can only shrug. “Answer your sister.”

He droops like a wilting flower. “I… I’ll be right out, Lynette.”

There’s a pause, a deeply disappointed sigh, and you hear her heels clicking neatly back down the corridor. Lyney scrubs a hand down his face and awkwardly gets down from the desk, fumbling to right his clothes. His whole body shivers as he does his bodysuit back up, having to readjust it several times in wake of his hardness. He looks down unhappily at the result.

As he goes to leave, he pauses, hand on the doorknob. “You’ll stay for the show?”

You see the question for what it is, and smile. “Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll wait for you after, too.”

Lyney tucks his head away, but you fancy you can see his giddy smile anyways. “I’ll try not to make you wait too long,” he murmurs; one hand reaches down, adjusts the cuff of his shorts just so you get the briefest flash of red-pink. And then he’s gone, out the door and down the corridor to the stage.

You lean against the table, heave a sigh. Start picking up the spilled complimentaries from the basket. You have a feeling, later tonight, that you’re both going to need the sustenance. 

[livelaughlovesubs]

hello hello!!! as for the event can i ask lyney (if you write for him, ofc!!) with "making them perfom tricks" plus "begging"? i thought about him right when i read the first prompt. 😭

hope you have a nice day!!! :D

Thank you :] I was a little lost on what to do as ‘tricks’ but @illustrious-ia helped me brainstorm

Dom!reader x sub!lyney - reader is GN

Warning: strip tease, anal play, dildo & bullet vibrator, teasing, voyeur (?)

Anniversary event

The click of the door, loud footsteps as he walks up the stairs, a heavy sigh before he enters your room, all blushy already when you two locked eyes. “How did your performance go?” You stared up from the bed, sitting up, smiling softly. “Everything went well, you’d expect nothing less from the greatest magician.” Lyney said, ruffling one hand through his dirty-blond hair. “A shame you weren’t there to watch me.”

Slowly, he got closer to you, kneeling down at the bed post, looking at you with such adoration. “You are right, so, won’t you give me a private performance?” His eyes lit up at that, and he smirked mischievously, “my pleasure.” Afterward, he stood up again, undressing himself with a teasingly slow pace, feeling your gaze on his body. “Please watch me carefully.” The boy mumbled, untying every single ribbon on his body. This was a game he enjoyed to play, to test your patience and to egg you on.

“You shouldn’t let your audience wait so long, they might get bored and leave you know?” You said, hinting at something, though you knew he wouldn’t fall for that. “I have no need for an audience who can’t appreciate the art of waiting.” Lyney answered you confidently, now taking off his gloves and peeling off his leg wear. The way he did it was provoking, wriggling his hips around, doing his best to show you his chocolate side. Seeing how much effort he was putting in, you decided to give up, “mhm, is that so? Fine, I’ll wait.”

Once he was entirely stripped of his clothes, he did a little twirl as if to showcase a pretty dress, though he wasn’t wearing one. He let you take a good look at his body, not an ounce of shame present in his actions. You clapped sarcastically, saying, “oh lyney, our greatest magician, please show us a worthwhile trick~” he bowed at your two faced compliment, replying with, “why of course, I’m sure the next act will be splendid!”

Then, to your surprise, he grabbed a nearby chair and put it in front of you, so that you’d have a good view of the object. After that, he grabbed his black hat and continued his little show. “Next, my lovely audience, I’ll pull an item out of my hat~” he kept going with this persona of his, acting as if he was searching for something with an arm completely buried in that hat of his. “Ahh, my apologies, it seems it’s quite cramped in here.” You waited with bated breath, staring at him intensely as he pulled out… some cards, some tape, a plushy, a rose bouquet that he drew at you, some vibrators and a suction dildo.

“Haha, sorry for the long wait, there it is, what I was looking for.” Now he was grinning all excited, pressing the toy against the chair, strapping the vibrators to his chest and already fully erect member. Once he was done, he hovered above the silicon toy, using the tip to poke at his entrance, before slowly taking the gland in. He didn’t use lube nor did he prepare himself, and with one swift motion he sat down completely. “Nghh~ w-what do you think, y/n? Pretty impressive, huh?” Finally he broke his facade, one hand clenching the edge of the chair, the other one holding a book.

You caught the bouquet with a confused look, wondering if it was a part of the show. It must be, considering he doesn’t do useless things. When you looked closely at the bouquet, you found remotes in it, which were probably for the vibrators on his nipples. With a big grin, you turned it on, listening to the low vibration sound and his lustful gasps. He was withering, an aroused look across his features as his insides tightened around the toy. You stared at the way his small body eagerly swallowed the huge toy, clenching around it with such fever. “Yes, I am enjoying myself. Go on, mr. Magician.”

He took a while until he could maintain eye contact with you, then declared with a shaky voice, “n-now, I’ll read you a s-story, hnnGggh.. while riding this, ah, toy.” So, basically he was saying, ‘watch me while I become a needy bitch for you’. You wanted to comment on it, to maybe stand up and ‘help him’ as an assistant, but he continued his speech with, “p-please stay seated until the end. When I’m done, we can gladly do some fan meetings ♥︎”

[hhonghu]

ECSTASY! Version 1.0

starring ┊ sub! lyney, aether, kazuha x dom! reader [separate]

𖦹 synopsis: teasing your boys in their most sensitive spots / what makes them weak!

𖦹 cw: nsfw / explicit, heavy petting, making out, mentions of belly bulge, mentions of sex, degradation, light humping, slight implied dub - con, nipple play, groping, thigh job, fingering (character receiving), hair pulling, public alley setting, hickies, spit as lube, slight frotting, ooc characters, reader has dick

guess whos back from the grave ╰(▔∀▔)╯i missed you guys :( mwuah mwuah kiss kiss to you all i finally posted TT;; my very late christmas gift to you !

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ Aether

pretty boy aether is sensitive by his tummy and his chest.

you can't help it, there was just something fun about wanting to keep touching him where you know he will let out the prettiest noise.

when aether does an upward stretch and lets out a little sound of content as he feels his back unwind, only for it to turn in to yelp as he feels your hands grab his sides from behind, quickly travelling to his stomach and kneading the fat. he would pout, turning to look up at you and ask what why would you do that, just for you to shake your head and kept caressing him.

aether would feel quite woozy, the way you were touching his stomach should be nothing short of innocent, it was just his stomach after all and you were just massaging it after all!

but he was wrong.

his legs were starting to feel weak, the way you were caressing his sides and stomach, hands almost nearing his chest but never getting this was starting to arouse him. then he felt your lips kiss the back of his neck and he felt his knees buckle, letting out breathy whine, his hands grabbing your forearms support.

your fingers finally reached up to his chest, hands ghosting over his clothes and gave it a squeeze, fingers pinching and flicking his already hardened nipples.

you would whisper the most filthiest things to his ears, telling him that you would like to see a cute bulge in his belly as you fuck him, you wanting to play and suckle with his chest.

aether cannot take it, he was hard and his breathing was erratic, his body searching for more from you, beginning to grind his ass to your already hard cock.

you turned his head around to the side, catching his lips in a messy kiss as you kept playing with his chest, aether's body quivering as he feels waves of pleasure coming just your fingers.

aether cums, letting out the prettiest moans into your mouth as his hips spasms, his cum staining his pants.

he felt weak, his legs finally giving out and luckily you caught him before he hits the ground, hooking your arms under his legs and carrying him. you watch he tries to catch his breath, chest inhaling and exhaling, nipples poking through his shirt. you begin to walk up to your shared room, whispering to him as you walk up the stairs;

"we're not done, i meant what i said."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ Kazuha

lovely kazuha is sensitive when it comes to his hair.

he would usually keep it tied, he doesn't want his face to be smacked by his hair if ever the weather felt like being an asshole.

but for you? when you complimented kazuha's hair when it was down, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear and saying that it suited him a lot? he started letting his hair down, especially when you're around.

especially especially when getting intimate.

after a long night of drinking with the crew of the Crux and beidou passed out drunk, you and kazuha decided to finally get some shut eye.

you would wonder how everything ended the way it is right now but you aren't the one to complain when you have sweet kazuha naked on your lap, back against your chest and his legs spread wide open all the while you have your already wet fingers teasing his hole and the other holding his hair, the grip just right to your liking.

kazuha was squirming, his face was red and his cock was leaking, watching and feeling your fingers tease his hole, slowly taking the tip in and out was driving him crazy. what was driving him even crazier was how good you were pulling on his hair.

he was letting out breathy sounds as your worked your fingers inside him, slowly pushing it in and out before setting a pace.

you whisper things in his ear, telling him of how much of a slut he was for just opening his legs for you, gripping his hair tighter and telling him that he was liking this too much.

he couldn't agree more. if he could at least.

the stimulation was getting to kazuha, he felt as if we was melting. he could feel the tips of your fingers touch his prostate as you sped up your pace and the pleasurable sting of your grip on his hair and you grip his hair tighter than before, causing kazuha to finally come undone. he whines out loud, his cock twitching as cum spurts down from his balls to a bit on the floor, his hands struggling to keep his legs open.

you watch as he comes down from his high, your hands letting go of his hair and taking your fingers out him, caressing his hair to soothe him a bit.

it didn't take long before you carried him up and laid him down the bed on his front, towering over his back and his ass pressed against you.

"seems you want more, hm? let's get the real thing inside you, pretty boy ♡"

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ Lyney

coquettish lyney is sensitive by his thighs and neck.

there was a cat and mouse game that the charming magician lyney was able to pull you in.

he found you an odd fellow but surprised himself when you were quite the charmer yourself, matching his energy. safe to say it had lyney nearly stutter out responses and eventually, you had him set on you.

lyney begins on his plans to pursue you, using the tricks up his sleeve to impress you. from giving you special attention during his shows when you attend to his conversations with you can be almost considered obscene if heard out loud, the tension between you two was always thick.

you always kept him on his toes, your words allured him and he wanted more but it seems you always find a way to escape, leaving him high and dry.

and lyney seemed to just about have had it.

so imagine during on one of your late night walks, you were pulled aside in a dark alley by none other than lyney with you back against the wall, hidden behind some large boxes. he wasted no time breaking the ice between both of you, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss and you return it, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him deeper and hearing his hat fall from his head down to the floor.

you break from the kiss, watching his hazy face look up to you, lips red and wet. you smirk, making your way to his neck and gently tracing your lips over his skin, making him shiver. you feel him grip the sleeves of your shirt as you leave trails of kisses on his neck while your hands went down from his waist to his ass, giving the fat flesh a squeeze.

lyney lets out a loud gasp before slapping the palm of his hand over his mouth as simultaneously sank your teeth gently into his neck and your fingers dragging itself from the back of his thighs to his ass.

jackpot.

you quickly turn him around, his front against your chest as you begin trying to undress his shorts, muttering about the unnecessary belts and garters he has. you tell him to unbuckle you as well and he nods, his shaky fingers unbuttoning you.

when you two were done, lyney watches in (delightful) shock as you were bigger than he thought, your hard cock slapping on your stomach, towering over his.

was that... really going inside him?

as if you were reading his mind, you motion for him to spit down on both your cocks and he does, a fat glob of saliva runs down from his mouth down to yours sending a chill down your spine. you wrap your hand around both of your cocks, running it up and down, making sure that lyney's spit covers all of it.

when you let go, he groans and shakes his head, trying to get the pleasure back but you shush him, patting the sides of his thighs and instructing him to open them.

you bring your cock between his thighs before closing them down, both you and lyney letting out a moan. you wasted no time moving, letting your cock thrust between his lush thighs, watching his face contort into pleasure as his dick rubs along your stomach.

he would have his arms around your neck, your face buried into his neck while he tries to keep quiet while you fasten your pace, lyney trying to to let his legs fail him.

as you bite hard enough that it might've drawn blood, that was the final push for him as he cums, long and drawn out whines as he spills on your stomach and feels fluids running down from thighs to his calves.

as you let him come down from his high, you slightly pull away to witness the debauched and ruined face of the once charming magician to a street whore. his make-up running down his face and body quivering in your hold, seeming to be barely coherent.

you pull him close, your lips dangerously close to his ear;

"you can go for another round, yeah? let's do it properly this time ♡"

[heizouz]

nsfw sub!lyney + implied amab!reader, no pronouns used but reader has a dick, rlly messy and needy, lyney is called a whore twice

i saw this in a vision and just started writing and didn't stop.. it's kinda long.. havent proof read idk if i even want to reread it. a bit crazier than my usual stuff (it's not) + the ending fuckin sucks bc i had no ideas. n e way love u guys and cockwhore lyney

there's something about stupidly needy, stupidly flirty lyney that drives me absolutely crazy.

lyney getting ready for a performance, most of his outfit put together other than his cape that's usually draped around his shoulder still hanging up behind the door. his hair is perfectly done, braid tight and the light pink streaks freshly dyed to accent his outfit colours. his hat is somewhere, but you can't see it from where you're standing by the door.

lyney’s bent over the vanity table, elbows resting on the wood while he holds his eyeliner up to his eyes, drawing a little dark wing on his right eye to match his left. from where you are, you've got a perfect view of how he perfects his makeup through the mirror, how he tilts his head to the side to make sure it's symmetrical to the other side, how he arches his back slightly to get closer to the mirror, how he pushes his ass out and sways his hips when he knows your eyes are raking over his entire body. he's teasing you without words, ever so slightly casting his eyes over to you through the mirror when he presses his chest against the vanity desk and lets out a quiet moan which could be passed off as him stretching but you know from the way the edges of his lips tilt upwards that he's doing it entirely on purpose.

you cross your arms, body weight leaning against the door frame of the wide open door to his dressing room and just watch as he continues to show himself off to you with flirty little smiles and obscenely stupid moans every time he presents his ass out in his stupidly tight shorts. anyone walking past the dressing room could look in and suspect nothing but the magician applying his makeup for his upcoming performance yet there was something so explicit in the way lyney moved his hips in front of you that anyone peeking in would think it was a pornographic display.

lyney squeezes his thighs together when he meets your eyes in the mirror and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth in a cheeky grin, going back to still trying to perfect his eyeliner. he doesn't pay any attention to you now, focused on getting his makeup’s angle right and flaunting his pretty body to you to.

so he doesn't notice when you pull yourself off the door, quietly closing it behind you and crossing through the room to where he's entirely bent over the desk. when he sees you through the mirror though, his eyes seem to light up and he immediately pushes his ass back to meet your hips when you stop to stand behind him.

you raise an eyebrow slightly, but your hands drop to his hips, fingers pressing into the material of his clothes and you lean over his back a little, forcing him to stay pressed against the vanity.

“you enjoying yourself?” you ask, voice deep as you push your hips hard against his ass, watching the way lyney struggles to hold the eyeliner against his skin when he moans quietly and immediately sway his hips back to seek the feeling he's been needing.

the magician hums, eyes fluttering closed, pulling his eyeliner away from his face so he doesn't fuck up his makeup as your hands press his hips down against the wood of his desk, moving to kneeding his ass despite the shorts that hardly cover anything anyway. “i am now.” lyney breathlessly says, hand curling into a fist at the friction of his clothes and the desk against his aching cock. you can't help but smirk a little, pressing your lips across his shoulder and whispering a small “yeah?” in his ear that he nods so obediently to.

“you're gonna be late to your performance if you keep this up.” you mumble, moaning under your breath when lyney forces his hips back against you harshly. the magician smiles at you, blinking at you through the mirror even though you're focused on the way he's moving his ass against you so needily.

“not if we're quick.”

it’s your turn to hum now and you grab the eyeliner from his hand - lyney whines in response, eyes glaring at you through the mirror - and put it somewhere on the desk before grabbing lyney's hips and spinning him around. the boy gasps, hands gripping the edge of the vanity for support until you force him to the floor. lyney just accepts it, bracing himself on his knees in front of you, almost hitting his head on the desk from the speed.

your fingers hit the bottom of his chin, tilting his head up to look at you and he does, eyes big and needy, that stupid flirty grin tugging at his lips. “don't wanna ruin your outfit, baby,” you faux pout, fingers dancing across his jaw and cheek before your thumb lands on his bottom lip, “so put your pretty mouth to good use, yeah?”

lyney is almost immediate with his ministrations. his hands go to your belt, tugging at the buckle as you press your fingers against his lips for him to open. he does, parting his lips for you to slip your fingers in and he moans around them, eyes glancing up all pretty with his performance makeup on. he takes your fingers in his mouth so nicely, wetting them for no reason other than to please you until he gets your pants down and his lips around your cock.

he presses desperate kisses along your cock once he's freed it, working his way up to the tip and wrapping his pretty lips around you while his hands curl around the rest. you moan quietly, so badly wanting to grab his hair and force his head down to take all of you but you're wary that he has to be out on stage soon and you can't risk explaining to the hair and makeup department what happened. so you settle with brushing your thumb over his cheek as lyney giggles and whines as he kisses the tip of your cock again.

“such a pretty eager whore today.” you sigh, grabbing lyney's jaw to urge him to take your cock, which he does with ease, lips parting to take you almost fully and you can feel the whimper he let out at the name around your cock. “bet you'd take anyone's cock if they'd walked in on you bent over like that, wouldn't you?”

you're teasing, trying to rile him up fully knowing he's not anything but your baby. it works though, and lyney whines around your cock, the vibrations punching a groan from your throat and he pulls off to glare up at you. “wouldn't.” he says, stroking the length of your cock as his lips press against the underside where he knows you're sensitive. you grin a little, moaning through a smile and lyney drags his tongue up the length of your cock, eyes blinking prettily up at you to flirt despite your cock in his mouth. he looks so perfect like this, on his knees in front of you, makeup glittery and pink, eyes bright and glassy, lips parted around you, so eager to please even though he's on timetable.

he takes you so well, one hand stroking whatever he can't fit in his mouth and the other grabbing your shirt to ground himself. he's being careful though, not showing off and you narrow your eyes a little. your hand finds the back of his head, careful not to mess with his hair and you press him forward to take your cock further. lyney whimpers, both hands grabbing the backs of your thighs and eyes widely looking up at you. he takes it though, letting his lips stretch around the length of your cock until he can't anymore and his pretty violet eyes start to glass over with tears.

“that's it, good boy.” you groan, head falling back slightly at the warmth of his mouth. lyney tries to blink back his tears, not wanting to smudge his eyeliner but he's so needy and your cock is filling his mouth so well that it's making it difficult. you finally let go though, and lyney pulls off of you with a gasp, instantly whining and going to stroke your cock like a good boy. the magician rubs his thighs together, pressing his lips needily over your cock and when you glance back down at him he immediately goes to take you again.

you moan, catching the way the boy is pressing his thighs together so desperate for friction. so you gently part his legs with your foot and lightly press your shoe against his aching cock over his shorts. lyney cries around your cock, immediately bucking against your shoe and fingers curling into the material of your shirt. his eyes fill with tears once again from the pleasure he needed, making sure to eagerly bob his head along your cock as a thank you.

he knew you wouldn't let him cum since he had to be on stage in probably ten minutes from now, but he was grateful nonetheless for some sort of relief. lyney closes his eyes to force back his tears when your shoe presses against the tip of his cock through his shorts, loud moans bleeding from around your cock. you're close now, and you let lyney know with a hand on the back of his head and cursing out.

“f-fuck, gonna cum baby,” you're breathless, eyes dropping to see lyney crack his eyes open to watch you, “as much as i want to see your pretty face covered, can’t today.”

lyney's eyes plead, small whine ripping from his throat with a frown, pulling off to suck the head of your cock and you jolt a little, stomach coiling. “g-god, baby open your mouth.” you grab your cock once lyney rips himself off, obeying and lips parting at your command. he sits like a good boy when you stroke yourself to release, eyes glimmering with need as you cum on his tongue, lips closing around you gently to help you through. you let out a mantra of moans as you come down, letting lyney lick and mouth up your length, making a mess all over your cock, not caring about the cum and saliva dripping from your cock and his pretty lips.

you pull him off of you, thumb going to clean the mess off his face and press into his mouth which lyney just takes with need, moaning around your thumb.

“pretty whore.”

lyney giggles, pressing a kiss against your cock to tease when you drop your thumb from his mouth. if it weren't for the growing noise of people from the hallway outside, you're sure lyney would've skipped his performance to stay on his knees all night for you.

[vmp3ater]

subtop reader with a bossy/bratty character…reader trying to keep pleasing the character and when r gets too damn tired the character just continues and uses r like a toy..😩😩

riding reader and milking them for all theyre worth!!! TEEHEE

but so true, sumthing about subtop reader gets me goin in a way i cant figure out…

dombot topaz, furina, aventurine & lyney x subtop amab reader

anon…

you’re absolutely whipped over topaz and the way she uses you like a sex toy. rutting her cunt against your face as she moans out, going on and on about how good you are for her, how good you make her feel. you cant help the whimpers that escape from you when you look up at her between your thighs, not knowing how much longer you can eat her out for

furina just wants to see you whine and squirm while she rides you, milking your cock for all that it’s worth. she doesn’t know how many times you have came, but she still rides you regardless, watching you squirm at the way her cunt clings onto your cock like a vice will always be something that she’ll remember.

aventurine adores how you look under him as he bounces on your cock, whimpering as his hole sucks you in so greedily. he’s stroking his own cock and making himself cum on your cock while all you do is watch, not even being allowed to touch him. he cums before you and you whine, but feel relieved when he whispers “don’t worry, i’ll let you cum too <3”

you want nothing more than to please lyney but it feels like he’s preventing you from doing that. you’re in between his legs, thrusting into his hole so shakily. but you don’t control your pace—he does. he tells you to go faster or slower, depending on how much he wants to tease you. it takes all your self control to not ravage him completely, but hearing him praise you for being so good for him only makes you keep going

WE NEED MORE SUB TOP READER CONTENT 🙏🙏

[sku11s1asher]

Kinktober Day 1: Edging

lyney x top male reader

notes: guess who’s doing kinktober?? me!! pretend i posted this earlier since i couldn’t find a list until last sec, oops. ignore the fact that this is short and totatllyyy not rushed.. i don’t even know the characters i wanna do so PLEASE DM OR SPAM MY INBOX WITH CHARACTERS YOU WANNA SEE!! if a day doesn’t get posted on time, i promise ill post it eventually trust

cw: edging (obv), one slap on his thigh, sharp ass nails, crying, im a sucker for lyney sorry guys

It must be a wonderful feeling to have Lyney, the great magician of Fontaine, the future successor to Arlechino, right under your fingertips, literally. Such a strong man, reduced to a whimpering and begging mess, all because of a little touching. He looked so beautiful though, his makeup ruined, back arched, cock leaking, body on full display, just for you.

A needy whine left his lips, “Please, I- I can’t!” Your eyes flickered up, tilting your head at him, “You can’t what? Use your big boy words, baby.” He could barely open his eyes to look at you, everything was too much. His arm went over his face when your hand slowly started moving again, it took everything in him to not buck his hips. He needed to cum so badly, why are you being such an asshole?

You leaned down to kiss his stomach before taking your hand off his cock. You’ve only been edging him for 15 minutes, it’s pathetic how quickly he became a mess. After staring at him for a few moments longer, you finally grabbed the lube, opening it, and pouring it over his dick, watching as it slowly dripped down towards his hole.

—

Maybe it was too much, he was squeezing around your fingers so tightly, thighs squeezing around you. Every sound that came from his mouth was almost laughable, barely audible words, moans, and whimpers. It’s like you took away his tongue.

“Calm down,” you said to him, your free hand giving his thigh a light slap. Your finger kept rubbing against his prostate, sometimes purposely missing it. “How can I calm down?” He hissed out, eyes starting to fill with tears. All you could do was let out a chuckle, no matter how angry he pretended to be, his body always betrayed him.

Once you finally decided to stick another finger inside of him, a fat glob of pre cum dripped from his tip. You could tell that he was trying his hardest to not cum, the way his breathing started to increase, how his face slightly changed, the slight grind against your fingers. Of course, you paused your movements, just long enough for him to lose the high before you started to get him open.

—

“Fuck,” as soon as you were even an inch inside of him, he was trying to pull all of you inside. “Lyney,” your voice warned, the grip on his waist tightening. All you got in response was a loud moan and nails going deeper into your back. When you, finally, got inside of him, it felt like heaven. Hell, it sounded like heaven.

“You wanna cum?” You asked into his ear, head falling into his neck, biting it as you thrust. “Yes, yes, please!” He begged, one of his hands going on your head, pulling you closer. Though, his other hand tried going to his dick, which didn’t slide with you. As soon as you felt his hand go between your stomachs, you stopped moving altogether.

“No, no, no, ‘m sorry-“ he quickly pleaded, you could feel his tears, what a baby. “If try to you touch yourself, I’ll stop again,” You warned, slowly going back to thrusting into him. He didn’t even last a minute, hole immediately squeezing you tighter, nails scratching your back, finally coming. You didn’t stop for a second, trying to reach your own high as he continued to moan like a cheap whore.

[silkval]

♟】 the mahogany series- part Ⅳ

thinkin about how your pretty little genshin boys act under your desk...

★fujoshis, wlm and minors please fuck off- you will be blocked★

♢》 whether they were quickly hurried under your desk to hide them from the person who was knocking at your door, oh-so-rudely interrupting the two of you, or the pretty thing crawled under in desperate want of your attention...

lyney is such a sweetheart. goodest boy ever; all smiles and flirty remarks, never a bad thing when he was in your company. honestly- you swear it all started out innocent... kind of.

your darling boy was perched on the edge of your desk, his pale, plush thighs squished against the dark mahogany of your desk as he crossed his legs, having entered your company only minutes ago yet already babbling on about how today's show went- that signature coy grin spread across his glossed lips as he continued on his ramblings.

not that you minded, of course- not at all, really. this, you thought, was the absolute perfect time to just lie back into your chair, letting out the occasional timbre hum to his words in quiet praise- and, of course, getting to give your pretty little thing some attention.

and with that, is exactly what you did- toned hands idly coming to slip off your leather gloves in one swift movement with nothing but a sly grin, sharp gaze staying trained on the smaller male- unwavering as you began absentmindedly trailing your hand up and down the soft curve of his exposed thigh as if it were nothing, deft fingers 'accidentally' catching on the straps attached to his shorts, giving them the occasional soft tug- but oh, that you could not ignore.

those adorable little stutters entering his speech as he felt the fabric dig into his soft skin, small gasps escaping his lips that he failed oh-so-miserably to muffle. one gloved hand coming up to slap over his mouth as the other bunched up into the silk of your shirt, hand flying to grip at something, anything- as he felt his thighs twitch, pressing and rubbing together. stifling a whine as he felt that familiar feeling gathering in his tummy, pretty eyes blown wide as he stared at you dumbly.

and that was all the reactions you were looking for, lips curled into a raffish grin as a deep, husky chuckle reverberated from your chest- before gesturing to your darling with the simple flick of your wrist; his face lighting up in recognition as the sweet thing immediately scrambled to get off your desk; uncrossing his legs and slipping between your parted thighs and under your desk- yet not without giving you an 'accidental' peek of the wet seeping through his shorts... oops.

oh, but that was enough to set you off- how could you ignore such a needy, gorgeous boy at your feet? that darling face of his was surely just made to be ruined- destined to be smeared with drool and your seed, destined to be dripping with pretty, crystalline tears as he cried out in pleasure, destined to be-

...yours.

and unsurprisingly, the pretty thing was already practically pawing at your belt- bottom lip wobbling as nimble fingers tugged at the fabric of your pants, whining like a puppy in heat.

what a sweetheart. what were you to do, if not indulge him? oh, but he did have some patience skills he certainly needed to work on...

and with that, you only gazed down at him with a small smirk, cooing quietly as you reached out a hand to cup his jaw, thumb running over his cheek with a low hum, snickering quietly to yourself as you watched him almost immediately part his pretty, wet lips. the soft pants fanning against your fingertips as he whined almost breathlessly, staring up at you near beggingly as you traced the dips and curves of his mouth- along his cupid's bow, grazing his trembling bottom lip...

-before promptly slipping two fingers inside his mouth, letting out a satisfied murmur as you felt him let out a little squeal at the unexpected feeling.

'good job, sweetheart- you just needa learn some patience, yeah? if you do well enough, I'll give you somethin' better to suck on- so get on with it, pretty boy,'

[angelsrcute]

hello! i saw you asked for ideas and if you dont mind here i am haha^^' thank you for your time reading and sorry to be a bother! (btw, i love your layout, "I love amy" is one of my favorite manhwas and i thought nobody knew it)

No thoughts, just Yandere and desperate Lyney being fucked by male reader 🙏🏼

Imagine also fucking Kazuha though....who has been head over heels for you since forever and male reader is just so clueless he doesnt know that omggg

AN: I'm gonna write the kazuha idea in another post :3

Imagine yandere!Lyney who's a desperate and pathetic loser. Your cock hitting all his good spots as he sobs n grips the bedsheet, he tries to pull away but you bring him back on your cock. Lyney whispers sorrys for killing the people who interact with you, it's not his fault that he gets jealous! Pretty bite marks cover his neck as your free hand chokes him lightly, making him see stars. How pathetic, he's drooling all over the pillow and making a mess. <3

[prttykittes]

how about a lyney x femdom reader where she pegs him with a banana wrapped in a rainbow condom(」°ﾛ°)｣ im sober and bored so i need to entertain myself

This was so random, anyways I hope you enjoy this, (⁠◕⁠દ⁠◕⁠) mwah merry Christmas early!! (⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)⁠ ⁠~⁠♪

CW. Anal sex, Dom!reader, Pegging, wrong use of banana, rainbow condom, crying during sex(forgot term), Rough sex

Your body was rocking against his, you smiled as he moaned. His legs trembling, oh how pretty he looked! His eyes were twitching, his hole was clenching around you so hard! You grip his waist as you go faster, making his back arch and making him moan louder and louder! His slutty lewd moans were so good sounding! His hole kept on twitching, clenching around your “cock” which was a banana. It felt weird against you, it was tied with a rope around your lower waist like a strap! It was covered in a rainbow condom, you were happy once you found it, it was quite silly but you had this idea pop up in your head. You were bored and you asked him and he said yes! So that's why your here fucking his butthole with a banana, the tip of it was poking at your cunt as well, when you moved and it felt uncomfortable but you will deal it for him! You smiled when you saw his face, tears beautifully going down his face, his cheeks red as he looked out of it, his mouth wide open and his tongue sticking out. He was so cute! You bite at his neck, leaving hickies on his neck, you lick it and suck on it. He grunts and moans, you lick your lips as you go harder. Going deeper inside of him, you can see his dick twitching. Lots if pre-cum leaking out it, the tip red. His dick kept on twitching, you wanted to suck on it. Slurping up his pre-cum, you rub it as he throws his head back, his eyes roll back. He finally cums, his white liquid making a mess on him and on the bed sheet. You smile and pull out, the banana was a mess and it was mushed. You kiss his cheek and lick up his mess!

[mvrders-are-okay]

lyney bending over his vanity provocatively, wiping off his makeup while subtly slowly swaying his hips, and because of how tight his shorts is it will literally rip on how plump his ass is. don’t get me started on those thigh garters ( you seen the way it literally jiggled in his magic show cutscene? ).

[lovin-xiao-n-childe]

In My royalty au, I’m going to add a new character but I’m stuck between Lyney and Heizou

(The story will change a little bc Lynette exists, but overall I don’t think anything else changes, all the characters are ooc anyways)

[livelaughlovesubs]

Yk how Lynette is part cat, while lyney isn't? I've always loved the headcannon that lyney's got cat behaviours, despite not having the features. It's so cute, imagine him getting distracted by a laser, or just rubbing up to you in general, hehe.

Ofc that's got me now thinking that he scratches your back while lovemaking or anything fairly intense. 🙃

((Luv you lots btww <33))

Love you too sweetie~

Also, this is such a cute headcanon! He would be the playful cat Ofc haha

Sometimes he’d just rub his cheeks and body against you, being clingy and affectionate

Would purr too if he feels good, or very happy

Imagine him being fond of laying his head on your lap, or cuddling with you while sitting in your lap, how cute~

.

.

“Ahh~ y/n..! Right there, o-ohh, keep going..please.” Your hands were on his hips, your own one’s moving up to trust into him. Lyney tried to move back to meet your movements, but you two have been going at it for so long now that his legs got weak. All he could do was claw at your back, leaving painful marks behind. Panting as his teeth sunk into the nape of your neck, drool dropping down his lips and coating your skin with a thin layer of saliva. “Ah- fuck..” you groaned a little at the pain, but you also couldn’t bring it over yourself to tell him to stop. Especially since he loved seeing the scratch marks on the next day.

“Enjoying yourself, lyney?” A sneaky and playful question, raising his tiny body, then slamming him back down onto your length. “AhH~! UHuhmm, so good.. haah..” each time he inched closer to the edge, he’d use more strength, it really hurt but… he looks so content and adorable, just like a real kitty, so you had so choice but just let him do as he pleases.

[sangonomiya-kokofish]

I need asks- I wanna do it maybe I should do a character list? I dunno?

I do nsfw as well but it might be bad so will do light nsfw

[fangdokja]

His affection is a slow poison—sweet, deadly, and inevitable.

❤︎ Synopsis. In a love that teeters between devotion and obsession, escape is futile—his jealousy isn’t just possessive, it’s a consuming force that leaves no room for freedom. With each calculated act, he dismantles your world, ensuring you’ll always belong to him, body and soul.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Baizhu x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Itto x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Kazuha x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Lyney x Fem. Reader

♡ Headcanons. Heart's Chains - Part 3

♡ Word Count. 4,223

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non con, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non con kissing and touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats, drugging, removal of rivals

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

♡ A/N. Low-key wanted to make Itto a mean dom. Dumb yanderes are so difficult to write. I cry. Next to any ISTJ yandere, dumb yanderes are second hardest.

♡ Baizhu – The Alchemist’s Poison.

Baizhu’s smile, a sickly sweet balm, cloaked the sharp intent glinting behind his eyes. “Life, my precious flower,” he murmured, his voice soft yet suffocating, “is much too frail to entrust to anyone but me. Your delicate hands were never meant to bear its burdens. Allow me—only me—to carry them for you.”

His words wrapped around you like silk, tightening, fraying your resolve into ribbons of compliance. At first, you had convinced yourself his devotion was genuine—a healer’s oath steeped in compassion. Protector, savior, guardian—he wore these roles as if born to them. But beneath the guise of benevolence lurked a darker truth, insidious and inescapable: his care was a tether, his love a poison.

Baizhu’s jealousy was not a roaring inferno. It crept, unseen, like a toxin leeching into your veins. Slowly, methodically, it burrowed into every crevice of your existence. His presence was a parasitic vine, wrapping tighter with every passing day, strangling the independence you once held dear.

“You shouldn’t be walking so much,” he chided, golden eyes alight with feigned concern. “Your condition is far too delicate. Let me carry you. It’s for your own good.”

Before you could protest, his arms enveloped you, a cage of bone and sinew disguised as comfort. His touch was firm yet tender, his embrace perfumed with the faint, omnipresent scent of medicinal herbs. It was a paradox—gentle yet unyielding, a mirror of his love. Resistance melted under his grasp, and you allowed him to carry you, unaware that each small acquiescence forged another link in the chains binding you to him.

He didn’t need shackles of steel. His care sufficed.

Every bite of food, every sip of water passed through his meticulous hands. Initially, this vigilance seemed thoughtful, an extension of his role as your healer. But soon, you began to notice the peculiar intensity in his gaze. His fingers lingered on the rim of your cup; his lips curved in a fleeting smile as fatigue claimed your body after every meal.

“I’ve perfected the balance of your medicines,” he explained one evening, his tone that of a patient tutor. “You wouldn’t want to disrupt such a delicate equilibrium, would you, my flower?”

His golden eyes gleamed with a quiet, unnerving conviction. You nodded, your will eroding under the weight of his unrelenting care. After all, who else could understand the intricacies of your fragile condition? Who else could safeguard your life? His words became gospel, seeping into your thoughts until you could no longer distinguish them from your own.

The world beyond his reach began to wither. Friends drifted away, their once-familiar faces blurred by distance and neglect. When you asked why they no longer visited, Baizhu’s expression remained serene, his explanation a dagger wrapped in velvet.

“Their presence was too disruptive,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Your health is paramount. I simply told them the truth—only I know how to care for you properly.”

But the truth, like blood from a deep wound, eventually bled through the fabric of his lies. Friends who lingered too long fell ill with strange, inexplicable ailments. Their messages grew cryptic, laced with unspoken warnings, before ceasing entirely. The patterns became undeniable: his love was a scalpel, precise and unrelenting, excising anything that threatened his hold over you.

“Why would you question me, my sweet?” he murmured one night, his voice a silken noose tightening around your sanity. “Why would you need anyone else when I am here? Devoted to you in every conceivable way. I love you more than they ever could.”

His words clung to you, heavy and inescapable. His love was a sanctuary that felt like a tomb, gilded with care but suffused with suffocation. His golden gaze consumed you, twin suns burning with an intensity that brooked no dissent. When his lips brushed the curve of your neck, it wasn’t affection you felt but possession, his breath a ghostly claim against your skin.

“You belong to me,” he whispered, his tone as unyielding as his touch. “You always have. No one else deserves the honor of protecting someone as precious as you.”

Nights became a battleground of silence and shadows. You’d wake to find him seated beside your bed, his gaze fixed on you with an unreadable intensity. His fingers traced the pulse at your throat, the curve of your cheek, as though memorizing the fragility of your existence.

“Your heart beats because I will it,” he’d murmur, each word sinking into your skin like thorns. “Every breath you take is my gift. Don’t squander it, my dear.”

You wanted to scream, to claw at the suffocating vines of his obsession. But your body betrayed you, weakened by his tinctures, his “cures,” his meticulous control. You were a bird in a gilded cage, your wings clipped by the very hands that professed to shelter you.

———

One day, your curiosity betrayed you, leading you to his forbidden study. The air was thick with the acrid scent of dried herbs and volatile chemicals. Shelves groaned under the weight of ominous vials and weathered tomes. On the desk lay an open journal, its pages filled with meticulous observations—each breath you took, each flicker of pain, each moment of weakness—all cataloged in his precise, clinical handwriting.

Sketches of your anatomy adorned the pages, grotesquely detailed and annotated with chilling precision. One depicted your ribcage flayed open, each bone meticulously labeled, accompanied by notes speculating on the exact placement of your heart during moments of heightened stress. Diagrams of your organs, veins, and skeletal structure were paired with notes on your diet, your habits, your vulnerabilities.

“I’ve ensured your survival against impossible odds,” his voice broke the silence, calm but carrying a razor-sharp edge. You turned to find him standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. “Every sacrifice I’ve made, every choice, has always been for you. Surely, you understand that, my little flower?”

He approached with measured steps, his smile a blade slicing through your fragile resolve. The journal snapped shut in his hands, but its contents remained burned into your mind—a testament to the depth of his obsession. His fingers ghosted over your arm, his touch light but laden with menace.

“You’re safe with me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “Safer than you could ever be anywhere else in this world. Remember that. No one will ever cherish you as I do.”

In that moment, the truth crystallized: there was no escape. Baizhu’s love was a labyrinth of his own design, each twist and turn leading back to him. His care was both poison and sustenance, ensuring your survival while tethering you to his will. His arms encircled you, pulling you into an embrace that felt less like comfort and more like a shroud.

“You are mine,” he murmured, his voice a lullaby of finality. “Entirely, irrevocably, eternally mine.”

And as his golden eyes bored into yours, you felt the weight of his words settle over you like a funeral pall. You were his. Completely, inescapably his.

────────────

♡ Itto – The Oni’s Claim.

The shadows of Hanamizaka stretched long and jagged, clawing at the cobblestone streets as the fading sunlight dipped below the horizon. A lone figure loomed in the suffocating dusk, his massive silhouette swallowing the narrow alleyway where you stood frozen. His horns glinted faintly in the dim light, sharp as blades and crowned with streaks of crimson that mirrored the sinister hues of his piercing gaze. Arataki Itto’s wild grin was plastered across his face, but it carried none of its usual warmth; it twisted instead into something feral, manic—a predator’s grin.

"Found ya," he breathed, his voice a low, throaty rasp that slithered into your ears like the scrape of steel against stone. His towering frame blocked out the world behind him, reducing your field of vision to his imposing presence alone. The air seemed to curdle in his wake, thickening like poison, as his heavy footsteps reverberated closer.

Panic rooted you in place, yet your heart pounded furiously against your ribs, desperate to flee. His molten eyes bore into you, their molten hue shifting between desperate adoration and something darker, something ravenous.

"Why…" he began, his tone suddenly trembling, cracking under the weight of unspoken anguish, "why do you keep trying to run from me? Don’t you know what that does to me?"

He stepped forward, the cobblestones groaning under his boots, and you flinched, instinctively pressing yourself against the cold, unyielding wall at your back. He stopped mere inches away, his massive hands hovering on either side of your head, boxing you in. His claws scraped faintly against the stone, a sound that sent shivers racing down your spine. When he leaned in, his breath was hot against your skin, tinged with the faint metallic tang of his desperation.

"Do you think they’ll protect you?" he whispered, his voice low and almost tender, though laced with an undercurrent of menace. "The Tenryou Commission? Those guys? They don’t even know you like I do. They don’t see the real you." His head tilted slightly, his grin softening but never losing its sharp edges. "I see you. I’ve always seen you. And you… you’re mine."

A trembling hand reached up, calloused fingers brushing against your cheek. His touch was reverent, almost gentle, but it left a burning trail that seared into your skin. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Every instinct screamed to fight back, to scream, but his sheer presence crushed you under its weight.

"I don’t blame you for being scared," he murmured, his voice softening into a low rumble that was no less terrifying. "I know I’m… a lot. I’ve got all this strength, all this power, and it’s overwhelming sometimes, isn’t it? But I’d never hurt you. Never. You’re too precious. Too perfect." His hand trailed down, clawed fingers ghosting over your jawline, your throat, before resting possessively on your shoulder. The weight of it felt suffocating, as if he was branding you with his very essence.

"You don’t have to run anymore," he continued, his tone softening into a chilling mockery of comfort. "I’ve taken care of everything. No one can take you from me now. Not Kujou Sara, not the Tenryou Commission, not anyone. They can’t… they won’t."

His grin faltered for a fraction of a second, and in its place flickered a raw, unguarded desperation.

"You don’t understand what you mean to me, do you?" His voice broke, trembling with something that might have been love if it weren’t so twisted, so wrong. "You’re the only thing keeping me together. Without you, I… I…" His hand tightened around your shoulder, and you whimpered involuntarily. The sound seemed to snap him out of whatever abyss he was spiraling into, and he grinned again, wide and wild and utterly unhinged.

"I’d go mad without you," he said, almost laughing, though the sound was hollow. "I’d tear this whole city apart if it meant keeping you safe. Keeping you with me. You get that, right?"

When you didn’t respond, his eyes darkened, the faint ember of vulnerability extinguished by an all-consuming need. His hands shot to your waist, yanking you forward against his chest in a vice-like grip. You gasped, struggling instinctively, but it only made him tighten his hold, his grin stretching impossibly wider.

"Ah, don’t do that," he murmured, almost playfully, though his voice had a razor-sharp edge. "You’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep squirming. And I… well, I can’t let that happen, can I?"

His claws dug faintly into your sides, not enough to draw blood but enough to remind you of the danger you were in. His gaze roamed over your face, his expression softening into something almost tender. But there was nothing tender about the way he held you, caging you in his strength, his warmth, his madness.

"We’re gonna be so happy together," he said, his voice dipping into a low, sing-song cadence that made your stomach churn. "Just you and me, forever. Doesn’t that sound nice?"

When you didn’t answer, he sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. His horns grazed your hair, and you felt their weight, their sharpness, as they loomed over you like a shadow of inevitability.

"You don’t have to say anything," he whispered, his tone softening into something almost gentle, though it sent ice coursing through your veins. "I already know. I can feel it. Deep down, you belong to me. Just like I belong to you."

As his lips ghosted over your temple, your pulse thundered in your ears. His grip on you tightened, as if afraid you’d disappear if he let go for even a second. His breath hitched, and when he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion.

"I’ll never let you go," he said, his words a promise and a threat all at once. "Never."

And in that moment, you realized the truth—there was no escape. Not from him. Not from this. Not from the suffocating, inescapable web of his obsession.

────────────

♡ Kazuha – The Whispering Wind.

Even the gentlest breeze seemed to falter when Kazuha spoke, as if the air itself dared not trespass against his claim on you. His voice, soft and melodic, carried an unyielding finality, each word a thread that tightened around your chest, making it harder to breathe.

“Even the wind,” he began, crimson eyes gleaming like embers against the dim light, “knowing no master, bends to my will when it concerns you. You are my tether, my anchor, and I would cleave the heavens themselves before I let you drift away.”

His words hung heavy in the air, suffocating in their weight. The stillness surrounding him was not peaceful; it was the predatory calm before the kill. There was no fury in his tone, no tremor of rage. His jealousy was a silent beast, deliberate and methodical, stalking its prey with unrelenting precision.

Kazuha stepped closer, his movements so measured and fluid they resembled the fall of cherry blossoms—graceful, yet foreboding. The faint tang of iron clung to him, mingling with the briny scent of the sea that perpetually lingered in his wake. Each step brought with it the unspoken threat of his presence, an oppressive reminder of your captivity.

“You wander,” he murmured, his voice tinged with melancholy, as if lamenting a betrayal. “As though you believe the world beyond me has something to offer you. But every gust, every whisper of the wind, carries my name to you. You are bound to me, no matter where you run.”

His hand lifted, calloused fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that felt cruel in its juxtaposition to the suffocating atmosphere. The touch lingered, deliberate, each stroke of his thumb against your jawline a silent claim. The gentleness in his touch was an illusion, a prelude to the iron grip that could follow in an instant.

“Do not ask what became of them,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin, yet his words chilling. “The others who thought themselves worthy of your attention. They were obstacles, transient and disposable. You, however…” He paused, his gaze sharpening, the crimson of his eyes darkening like blood pooling beneath the surface. “You are eternal. My eternal.”

The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with the scent of copper and salt. Kazuha’s crimson gaze pinned you in place, dissecting you with an intimacy that felt invasive, wrong. His love was a maelstrom, a grotesque melody of devotion and madness that promised no escape. His blade, an extension of himself, was ever at the ready—not in open threat, but as a silent promise. The memory of screams and the wet, sickening sound of flesh yielding to steel lingered in the air like an unseen specter, a testament to his resolve.

When he spoke again, his voice was a velvet thread, soft and lethal. “You are the ink to my poetry, the essence of every verse I compose. Without you, my existence is meaningless. Do you see? Do you understand, my darling?”

You tried to step back, but his hands caught your face, his grip firm yet deceptively gentle. The dried blood on his fingers flaked off as he cradled your cheeks, the grotesque contrast of his tenderness and violence making your stomach churn. His touch was reverent, as if handling something sacred, yet the possessiveness in his gaze left no room for doubt. You were not a person to him; you were an artifact, a treasure, something to be hoarded and kept.

“Even if you begged the wind to carry you away,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, “it would betray you. The wind knows its master, just as you do. And you… you belong here. In my arms. Where you are both loved and safe.”

But safety was a fragile veneer, cracked by the weight of his obsession. His hands slid lower, tracing the curve of your neck, his touch precise and clinical, like a surgeon mapping his incision points. The pressure was calculated, just shy of discomfort, a silent reminder of his control. His breath ghosted over your skin, warm and sickeningly intimate, as he continued his whispered declarations.

“The world conspires to take you from me,” he said, his tone softening, though the words carried the weight of a threat. “But I will not falter. I will carve away every threat, every obstacle. For you are the stillness within my tempest, the tether that binds me to this wretched existence.”

His crimson eyes softened, but the tenderness only made the madness within them more evident. His adoration was suffocating, a noose tightening around your throat. His kisses, ghosting over your skin, felt like brands, each one marking you as his. He handled you as if you were porcelain, fragile and irreplaceable, yet his gentleness carried an undercurrent of violence—a promise of what would happen if you dared to shatter his delusions.

“A caged bird still sings,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a ghost of a kiss. “And your melody belongs to me.”

In the dim light, his blade gleamed faintly at his side, a silent reminder of the chaos he was capable of unleashing. His crimson gaze bore into yours, unrelenting and invasive, as if peering into the very marrow of your soul. The room grew colder, the air thick with unspoken promises and unrelenting devotion. You were trapped, not by walls, but by the suffocating weight of his love, a love that promised no escape, no freedom.

The wind, once your ally, had turned traitor. And you… you were a bird with broken wings, bound to a love that would never set you free.

────────────

♡ Lyney – The Illusionist’s Trap.

He doesn’t let you see it—not at first, not when the stage lights cast their golden glow on his smile and the audience’s applause thunders like a heartbeat in the hollow theater. To them, he’s nothing more than a charming illusionist, the kind of man who bends reality with the flick of a wrist and the curl of his lips. But you’ve learned to see past the curtain, haven’t you? You’ve glimpsed the darkness that coils behind his playful eyes—a shadow that only ever seems to rise when someone steps too close to you.

“Ah, mon amour,” he murmurs, his breath ghosting over your ear as his fingers skim your wrist. “You’re the most precious part of my act. Do you think I’d ever let anyone ruin our performance?”

The words sound sweet, harmless, but the grip on your hand tightens just enough to send a chill down your spine. His smile doesn’t falter, not even as his gaze cuts across the room to the unfortunate soul who dared to look at you too long.

And that’s where the nightmare begins.

He doesn’t confront them outright; that wouldn’t do. No, his is a meticulous art, a silent war fought with whispers and invisible threads. The next morning, the admirer finds their belongings missing, their reputation tarnished by secrets they’d never breathed aloud. A scandal breaks. Their face pales in confusion, their voice trembling as they try to explain what cannot be explained.

It’s almost poetic, how quickly they fall apart. Like a magic trick they never saw coming.

And he’s always there, his arms slipping around your waist when the world feels unsteady, his voice low and soothing as he whispers, “What terrible luck they must have had. But don’t worry, ma chérie. I’ll keep you safe from such misfortune.”

You want to believe him. You try to convince yourself that the horrors swirling around you are coincidences, but it’s hard to ignore the glint in his eyes, the way his lips curl when he sees your unease. It’s as though he’s savoring every moment of your confusion, feeding off the fear he pretends not to notice.

One night, you confront him—or you try to. The words stick in your throat as he tilts his head, amusement flickering across his features like candlelight.

“Do you think I’m cruel?” he asks, his voice soft, almost tender. “Everything I do, I do for you. They looked at you like they had the right to dream. I merely reminded them of their place.”

You can’t respond. You’re too caught up in the way his fingers brush your cheek, his touch featherlight but suffocating all the same. His smile never wavers, even as his words twist like a knife in your chest.

“Do you know what scares me?” he continues, his tone darkening. “The thought of losing you. Of watching someone else steal the magic we’ve created together. Tell me you understand, ma chérie. Tell me you’d never betray me.”

The room feels colder, the air thinner. His hands linger on your shoulders, his thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles that feel less like comfort and more like chains.

“Say it,” he presses, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Say you love me. Louder this time.”

When you hesitate, his grip tightens. The gentleness fades from his expression, replaced by something darker, hungrier.

“Do you need a reminder?” he asks, his smile sharpening. “It’s easy to forget, I suppose, with all these distractions. Perhaps I should show you just how deeply I care for you… and how easily I can remove anything that stands in our way.”

The next day, another admirer vanishes. This time, the disappearance isn’t quiet. Blood stains the cobblestones near the market, crimson streaks smeared across the street like grotesque brushstrokes. People whisper of a beast, a shadow that moves too quickly to see. And yet, when you turn to him, his expression remains serene, his hands steady as he adjusts the cuffs of his coat.

“Tragic, isn’t it?” he says, his tone almost pitying. “But some people just can’t resist playing with fire.”

You don’t ask him what he means. You don’t dare.

Instead, you let him pull you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a way that feels both protective and imprisoning. His lips brush your temple, his voice a murmur that seems to echo in your skull.

“We’re a perfect pair, you and I,” he says, his breath warm against your skin. “Like magic and illusion. One cannot exist without the other. And without me, my love, your world would crumble.”

The worst part is… he’s right.

His presence has become a constant, a thread woven into every corner of your life. He’s there when you wake, when you sleep, when you dream. His voice lingers in your thoughts, his touch a phantom that never fades. And as much as you want to pull away, you can’t deny the truth that’s buried deep within your chest:

You’ve fallen for the illusion.

But illusions, as he’s so fond of reminding you, are not meant to be escaped. They’re meant to be lived, cherished, and—if necessary—enforced.

“You’ll never leave me,” he promises, his voice as smooth as silk. “Not because you can’t, but because you won’t. Isn’t that right, ma chérie?”

And as his lips curve into that familiar, devastating smile, you realize he’s not asking. He’s telling you.

────────────

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[heizouz]

begging for sub lyney + praise kink i'd do Anything

nsfw sub!lyney + gn!reader, praise, lots of praise, dumb lyney

this isn't my favourite piece but lyney is all i can think about recently so i just had to get this out as fast as possible. thank u SM for this req bc it's just made me think abt how much of a praise kink he'd have lorddd... n e way i hope this is okay!!.. <33

"you did so good today."

lyney thinks he will burst if one more compliment falls from your lips. you're close—too close. your hands are all over him, teasing the buttons of his shirt, tugging at his belt loops, tracing along the lines of his jaw. he's so flustered, worked up, adrenaline still flooding through his body from his previous performance.

his hat and shoulder cape have been discarded on the makeup desk behind him, your eagerness not giving him any time to take a breath as you'd hurried him into his dressing room and painted his face with needy kisses. lyney had laughed, pushing you away to cheekily ask if you'd enjoyed the performance that much; his cockiness soon fading once the praises started tumbling out between desperate kisses against his skin.

your thigh is between lyney's parted legs, his back against the makeup desk; hands fisting the material of your shirt at your shoulders as he grinds against your thigh. he's whimpering, soft and embarrassed—a complete switch to his usual confident on stage persona and you can't help but feel the wave of pride at the way lyney can't seem to look up, fixated on the way he moves so obediently for you.

"look at you." you sigh, head tilting as you watch him fall apart against your leg. your eyes are soft but dark, taking in the desperate cant of his hips and pretty gasps with every movement.

you're not even doing anything. lyney does all the work—working himself along your thigh, fingers curling into your shirt, eyebrows furrowed with concentration to make himself finish.

he'd been so stressed for his performance, so it'd been your plan all along to let it be known how well he did. the relief of finally getting his act done was clear as lyney was so accepting to relieve himself, to let you reward him for such a good show.

"just like that," you whisper. your hand tilts his head to finally look up at you, his eyes glassy and needy, "my pretty lyney."

lyney flushes at the praise, breath hitching, "st-stop, please." though his thrusts never seem to slow, hips only stuttering a little.

you take note of that, eyebrows raising when you flicker your gaze to his desperate grinding, "you want to stop?" you press your thigh harder against him, leaning impossibly closer across body, "but you're doing such a good job for me, darling."

"mh-hah-" lyney whines, loud, at the feeling of your thigh pressing hard against his cock straining against his shorts. he doesn't seem to realise how pitchy he's getting, brain fuzzy and too focused on you and your close body and the praises and his need to show you how even better he can be.

lyney can't think when you press your hand over his mouth to stifle his increasing moans. your chest presses against his and although he never seizes to slow the movement of his hips, your close proximity and the weight of your body pressing him hard against the makeup desk forces his eyes to roll back at the friction of your thigh against his cock. he can feel himself dripping against the material of his shorts, so incredibly close to breaking from just the press of your thigh alone. the thought would've flooded him with embarrassment if he could think properly.

you force him to keep eye contact, his eyes lidded and glossed over, the only thing separating you being your hand covering his mouth. your eyebrows furrow a little at the halt of his hips, "hm? don't stop, dove. you're being so perfect for me."

he feels so hot, his throat is closed up, unable to form a coherent word except the muffled whimpers and whines. his brain is muddled, the previous anxiety of a bad performance completely erased because now he's being good for you, he's so perfect, he's doing such a good job.

and to top it off, you lean in close when he starts to rock his hips at your command, whispering the words, "good boy." and lyney could cry.

lyney's eyes threaten to close, eyebrows scrunched and pretty breathy whimpers bleed past your hand over his mouth at the words, hips stuttering against your leg. purple irises gloss over with tears of pleasure, everything all too much and all you can do is smirk a little at how fucked out the usual suave and charming magician is.

"'m gonna-" lyney mumbles behind your hand, breath quickening and he pleads with his eyes, words stopping halfway to moan noisily.

"ah-ah!" you rip away his chance suddenly, hand dropping from his mouth and you back up slightly so you're no longer situated between his legs. lyney whines, bucking into the air at the loss of friction, eyes pooling with tears.

"n-no, please, please." lyney's desperate, voice broken and whiny.

"not yet, dove. 'need to get these off." you play with the belt loops of his shorts, tugging him a little closer. you smile wolfishly, going to pull the material down, "i need to reward you properly."

[vmp3ater]

lyney x amab! reader

warnings. dom! top! reader, sub! bottom! lyney, reader has a cock, dumbification, slight hair pulling. written by a minor.

notes. baby’s first written male character ‼️‼️ i need to shower him with love im not kidding

lyney’s high pitched whimpers become muffled when you thread your hand through his hair, pushing his face down into the pillows as you fisted his hair ever so slightly. his ass ripples every time your pelvis hits it, your cock thrusting into his hole slowly yet harshly.

he already turned so dumb and weak under you, fingers clawing at the material of the bedsheets. you can’t help a grunt when he clamps down around you, like he was trying to keep you inside him. his once pretty braid undoes itself every time your harsh thrusts move his body completely.

“‘s the matter? have i fucked you dumb already?” you egged him on, but all you got in response was a whine and his hips moving back into you.

“nghh… right there…” the magician hopelessly babbled as he felt the tip of your cock drag along his prostate. your hips jabbing into him didn’t stop even if he’s whining incoherent nonsense, rather they pick up in pace, lyney feeling your cock deep in his stomach, his neglected cock twitching in pure need.

every time you’d piston yourself inside him, he could feel himself getting closer to the edge, muffled cries shifting in volume as you continued. at this point, lyney couldn’t warn you that he was close, but he knew you could tell. he does trust you with his life to do such a thing to him.

“you gonna cum? then do it,” you growl deep in his ears, only making him shiver more. “cum all nice and pretty for me.”

your words—falling from your lips like a melody—was all that did it for him. with a final thrust, lyney came all over the bedsheets, arching his back high up as his cum spurted on the sheets, staining them white. but you know you’re not done, you haven’t even came yet.

when lyney snaps back into reality after his orgasm, the white dots in his vision disappear slowly as you let your hand go from his hair to allow him to breathe. of course he knows you’re not done yet, you’re still so deep inside him, so he turns his head behind him to look at you, face stained with sweat.

“you know, i didn’t get to cum yet,” whispering in his ear, you massage his waist and he shyly leans into your touch with a whine. “are you going to be a good boy and let me fuck you again?”