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pseudowho · 4 months ago

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Behind the Wall

Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?

A Nanami Kento glory hole story.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Corporate!Nanami (before return to sorcery), falling in love with a stranger, hand jobs, blowjobs, fingering, excessive cum, creampie, anonymous PiV sex, tiny bit angsty if you squint

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"How much do they pay you here?" A deep voice, smooth, but rusted with whiskey and smoke.

Your eyebrows raised spontaneously; kneeling down behind your black screen and hole, you didn't necessarily expect the small-talk with your clients to be romantic, but such business-like enquiries did not suit the tone, either.

Regardless, you would accept almost any pay, to find somewhere clear of the monsters that plagued you; the monsters that had chased you from job after job after job. None had followed you here tonight, it seemed, so you answered, trying to sound light-hearted.

"About industry average, I think."

A huff, the man's voice now bitter; "After they skim the majority off for themselves after your hard work, though."

You shrugged, as if he could see. He hadn't even begun to hook his cock out yet, so all you could see was a pair of lean, long legs in a black pinstripe suit. You found yourself tickled by your interaction beginning with anti-Capitalist outrage, and you quipped.

"Great pension plan, though."

"I somehow doubt that."

You laughed, musical and sweet, and were satisfied to hear another huff, the barest hint of laughter from your stranger, before his voice toned lower, his words for your ears and yours alone.

"Well...though I'm sure you deserve better than this place, I'll make it worth your while. I have to get back to work, and I'm sure you have bills to pay."

Beautifully veined, thick, long hands had begun to undo his belt, and you felt a strange thrill of excitement that you didn't feel with the other men. He sighed, unzipping, hooking out a long, thick, pretty cock that looked painfully hard and weeping pre-cum.

"I can't concentrate like this, I'll just...get this poison out and then I can focus."

He sounded almost apologetic, his words dripping with loathing in a way that made you frown. You reached one finger out through your hole, beckoning, tender as you whispered.

"Well, I can help with that."

Your stranger had grasped his cock to direct it through your glory hole, but hesitated at your tone, as if the tenderness you gave him was an odd specimen, requiring examination before he could accept it.

The tip of his cock, pink and full, nudged against your cheek and nose as it pressed through the hole. You heard your suited stranger hiss and shudder. You couldn't help but be impressed by your stranger's size, spitting onto the tip before beginning to stroke him in long, languid, practiced strokes.

"How do you hide this beast when you get a boner at work--"

A huff again, almost amused, drawing out into a ragged, needy groan. His fingertips pressed on the board on the other side, white-knuckled, his voice straining as he tried to speak past the pleasure of your pumping hand.

"--sit-- sit at my desk...hoping it'll go away-- fuck, you're good...just help me, please...pay you well, just-- just get it out and I'll head back--"

Your suited man groaned again, deep and fractured as your hand picked up its pace. When you spat on his tip again, your lips ghosting against him, he bucked involuntarily, cursing and apologising under his breath. When you drew the flat of your tongue across his slit to taste the salty pre-cum there, he almost whimpered with divine agony.

You felt a squirm of pleasure in your belly, sure that his beautiful voice alone could form the soundtrack you could orgasm to, night after night.

"You sound like you should have a girlfriend to help you with this." You bit your lip, satisfied to hear how his cool, bored tone had broken into something altogether more desperate.

"--sh-shit, u-ungh...any woman deserves better...better than anything I can offer-- f-fuck, I'm close already--"

You felt it; his balls were too big to fit through the hole alongside his cock, and they looked heavy, aching, his body struggling to draw them up as your suited man threatened to spill in your hand after a single flat minute. You whispered to him, soft in a way that offered him an intimacy he was clearly desperately lacking.

"Stop hating yourself when you should be coming in my hand, big guy."

When his knees buckled against your wall at you cuffing the base of his cock with your other hand, making the veins stand proud, you knew he was crumbling.

"--a-agghh fuck-- come too hard if you-- if you keep that up...shit, like a cock ring, I..."

You hoped that when he came, some of his abject self-loathing would pour away, too. His groans were rapidly turning into short little growls, the screen shaking as he bucked into your fist with such desperate force.

"--f-fuck, good girl, perfect...unnnhhh, perfect...shit, I'm...I'm..."

"God, you really do need thi--"

Your voice broke off with a squeak to feel a veritable fountain of cum spurt over your face, stripe after stripe of thick white release spattering over your cheeks, flooding down your hand and chest.

"O-oh-- wow--"

Your mouth dropped open in shock as your suited man grunted and cursed through his orgasm, his balls heavy and twitching, and you tasted a drip of his seed trickle down your nose and onto your tongue. Musty, sweet; nothing like its thickness would suggest.

His cock twitched for what seemed like an eternity in your hand, as you stroked him down from his peak, so covered in cum that you considered you may have to call it a night to go home and shower. As his groans faded, his voice ragged, you felt the guilt and shame radiate off him in waves.

"Shit, that was...ugh, I'm sorry. It's disgusting, I'm sure."

"It's absolutely not. I'm just...wow. Do you always come that much?"

A pause, guilty again as his voice rumbled; "...yes."

You laughed, and his cock twitched in your hand. He chuckled, warm and gravelly, when you pressed a cleaning wipe out through the hole.

"See you soon?" You asked, strangely hopeful.

"Not soon enough." He answered, soft in a way that surprised himself. His voice dropped an octave as a roll of bills pressed through the hole to you. "Here...keep it quiet. They're taking advantage of you."

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You were prepared, the second time your suited stranger visited. Having required an early finish and a shower two nights before, covered with an obscene amount of cum, you blushed to recall that you brought your vibrator to the shower with you, climaxing against the wall to the memory of his velvety voice.

You hoped he couldn't hear the faint buzzing between your legs on your side of the wall. You squirmed, muffling a moan around his cock head as you prepped him, your lips stretched and glossy with pre-cum.

"-h-haaaah, god, you...you're wasted here-- feel so pathetic-- no stamina with...with a mouth like that around me-- o-oohhh...fuck..."

You released him with a wet little pop, feeling your own pleasure building with the insistent buzz against your aching clit. He seemed just as happy to have your hand, and you admired the little neat trail of honey-blond pubes at the base of your fist as he fucked into it.

"Yeah, well...you're wasted too, at that company, by the sounds of it."

"Mmm...feels like what I deserve--"

You cut him off with a tongue to the underside of his cock, his voice fracturing into growled curses and hungry moans again.

"I already told you, if you talk about yourself like that again, I'll make you come faster--"

A breathless, rumbling laugh; "You're a monster."

You whispered, your breath ghosting against his cock head just enough to make him shudder; "Plenty of monsters in this world, beautiful man...but not me."

Your suited man stopped arguing with you, losing himself instead in the way your mouth, hot and suckling and eager, drew him in deeper with every bob of your head. The gasping, husky cry he made when his tip curved round the back of your throat, sent a burst of pleasure through you that had you humping your vibrator involuntarily.

Between his gasps, his vision fizzling with pleasure, you heard him hesitate, his voice barely above a whisper; "What's...that buzzing noise, I-- do you have...back there, are you--"

Barely pulling back, approaching the climax you tried to muffle as you pumped his base with your hand, you moaned, sweet and sinful around his cock head; "B-brought my vibrator...hope you don't mind--"

"Oh-- fuck-- FUCK--"

You squeaked, your orgasm muffled by the cum that flooded your mouth and tongue. As your pleasure threatened to make you convulse, you pushed forwards instead to take the rest of what he offered down your throat, and you lost sight and sound for an indeterminate amount of time, blinded and deafened by thigh-trembling ecstasy.

Swallowing, gasping, and fumbling a hand in your underwear to pull the vibrator off your overstimulated clit, you babbled at him, apologetic.

"S-sorry, hard to--to get guys off sometimes-- without a bit of a hit myself--"

"Fuck, don't talk about other guys when you just came with my cock down your throat."

You giggled, breathless, hearing your suited man pant as he came down from his high. When he removed his cock from the hole, a long, beautifully crafted thumb and forefinger reached hesitantly through instead, and gently pinched your chin.

You pressed a lingering, affectionate kiss to the pad of his thumb as it swiped over your lower lip, and you felt your heart thud to hear such a delighted, satisfied hum from him. He opened the palm of his hand, surreptitious, and your stomach twisted to see an even thicker roll of bills than before.

"...you don't...don't have to--"

"I want to, I...I meant it when I said you're wasted here. They're monsters. Animals."

You took the money with a heavy heart, pressing another kiss to his palm, and leaving your whispers there with it;

"Scarier monsters than them in the world."

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A black dog hunted your suited man, the next time he came to you. You felt it snapping at his heels, and when your stranger approached, it was to sit with his back against your wall, instead. You saw the briefest flash of a thick, corded neck, broad shoulders, a neat blond undercut. He was quiet for a few minutes, before you spoke, soft.

"...hey, you. I missed you last night."

He scoffed as if he didn't believe you, and you reached a hand through, poking him briskly on the shoulder.

"I mean it." Another pause, and you swallowed. "Do you...did you want to...?"

"I...I just want to talk. I'll still pay."

"I'd talk to you for free."

A further silence from him, your warmth a balm for his fractious self-loathing. His next words hung heavy with the weight of the world.

"When will we rest, do you think? When will it end?"

Your eyelids fluttered, looking down in thought. Your fingers stroked over the pad of his suited shoulder. You thought of how you'd been late to your gloryhole, that evening, your usual path blocked by some stop-motion atrocity, an eldritch horror only you could see, and you swallowed hard.

"...I don't know. It doesn't feel like it ever will."

A soft sigh, his voice rich and smoky; "I hesitate to ask what your particular burdens are, to have led you to a pit like this."

You felt tears prickle on your lashes. Taking a deep breath, and tippy-tapping your fingers on his shoulder, you tried to remain upbeat against the rising tide of misery.

"H-hey, it's not all bad. I got to meet you, after all."

"If that's your greatest joy, I pity you."

You winced. Your suited man jumped, when your hand gripped his shoulder with beseeching fervour, his own hand slowly coming up to overlay yours, dwarfing it in his palm. He tensed, unsure. When you spoke it was with the certainty that he needed to understand you.

"Get your tie off, and tie it around your eyes."

He was silent, stunned, his voice brittle as he replied; "...excuse me?"

"Just do it. Blindfold yourself. Then come here."

A moment of hesitation again...then a groan, surely older than he was, as he moved. You heard the silken friction of his tie being undone. You felt the anxious tension radiating off him, and you closed your eyes, eager not to ruin this mystery for yourself.

"Alright...if you insist."

When his voice sounded again, you felt his breath across your lips, inches from each other at the hole in the wall. You raised your hand up, feeling his shudder as your fingertips examined his face as though you were examining a sculpture; and, a sculpture he could have been, with high cheekbones, a thick squared jaw, narrow soft lips. You smiled, your eyes still closed.

"You're too handsome to leave here without a kiss."

Your suited man was silent, but you felt his breath hitch and his heart stutter.

When you finally pressed your lips to his, he moaned with ecstasy, just as he did when you pressed your lips to his erection. Though you took the lead initially, with your lips softly parting his until you could taste him, your permission imbued him with a bravery and confidence he hadn't revealed to you before.

He took charge, and kissed you like a man starved, his evening stubble rasping across your chin, nose against nose. His tongue trailed with a rusty shiver over your lips.

"F-fuck...you taste good...I-- ungh..."

He broke off to you biting his lower lip softly between your teeth, drawing him back in until your lips melded closely enough for you to suckle on the tip of his tongue. He moaned again, desperate and stuttering in his chest. You heard the brush of his palms pressing against the other side of the wall, desperate to cup your face and tilt his kisses down your throat.

Your mingling breaths tasted sweet, so indescribably erotic in its simple intimacy as you pulled away. You fought against the desire to open your eyes, instead biting your own lip, your brow furrowed against your own stupid decision. You whispered, to a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob, from your suited man.

"And I'd do that for free, too."

It was the most he had ever paid you, that night, for the simple intimacy of a conversation and a kiss.

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Not a single solitary man visited your gloryhole the next night. You fizzled with worry, as man after man appeared to loiter near you, before choosing someone else; anyone else. It didn't make sense-- even your regulars would be heard mumbling nearby before walking away from you.

You felt a clench of worry; the managers would still pay you, you were sure...but not if it continued.

You felt almost lightheaded with relief and something deeper, when a familiar voice graced your wall near the end of your shift.

"Are you lonely, in there?"

You felt a frisson of joy, and you knelt upright, grinning, your heart fluttering.

"Not anymore."

There was a momentary pause, and you felt the words that your suited stranger wanted to say, stuck, gated by his teeth. Eventually, when he spoke, it was strained, as if fearful of damaging the sprouting intimacy between you both.

"I've...been thinking a lot, recently. About what's fair."

You blinked, unsure, but answered anyway. "Oh?"

"It's not fair that I have to do a worthless job for people I hate, just to earn enough money to retire young. It's not fair that you're here, selling your body to make a living. It's...its not fair that it's only me being pleasured."

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks, feeling him err against what he wanted to say, and he continued.

"I...would like to do something for you. For...for both of us. At the next window."

Oh. The next window. The curtained table, upon which you could lie your lower half, for a man to use the deepest parts of you for his own pleasure. If any other man-- any other man, had asked this if you, you were sure you'd have hated yourself for it. And yet...

"I...I've never done...that."

"I'm...I'm glad, I...I hate myself. For using you, and how other men would use you, and I'd like...to give you better. To treat you as you deserve. God knows, I'd like to tell you to walk away from this shit hole altogether but that's ignorant of me, so I...just for tonight, I--"

"Okay."

You almost clapped your hands over your mouth, your acquiescence so natural that it shocked you. Your suited man seemed surprised, too, and you could almost smell the thudding scent of testosterone from his body as it readied itself for the primal promise of spilling inside your core.

"Yes? You...are you sure?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my life, actually. I...I'll come round."

"Fuck, I...I'll be waiting. Nobody else can-- fuck."

You stood on shaky legs, suddenly self-conscious. Arriving at the table, you took a deep, trembling breath, before starting to strip. You heard heavy, pacing footsteps; more mumbling; a snapped, deep, possessive response.

"This one is mine."

You bit your lip, muffling a laugh at your suited man's immediate dismissal. By the skittish footsteps of the rebuffed other man, your suited stranger was not one that other men would choose to fight. You spoke up, your voice smaller than usual.

"Alright, here...here I come."

Reverent silence hung in the air, as fine as spun gold, when you finished moving your bare lower half down the table. Self-conscious, with your hands pressed over your face in blushing mortification, your thighs and knees remained clamped together.

You heard slow, deliberate footsteps towards your body, as if your suited man had forgotten how to walk. His voice spilled forth, full of sighs.

"Exquisite, I...god, I don't deserve this."

You could have cried for him. Sick of his apparent self loathing, you stretched one foot out until your toes pressed against rock solid abs beneath a pressed, twill shirt. You felt another blush rock your system, not expecting your suited man to be quite so buff.

A large, warm hand grasped your foot, stroking up your arch, your ankle, your calf, and settling with a squeeze behind your knee. When his other hand began to mirror the first, both of your knees now bent and pressed together in his grasp, you heard him whisper as he held you.

"I'll cover you," he promised, ragged with need, "with my body, I...I'll keep you hidden. Keep you safe."

"Thank you."

"Do you trust me?"

"One hundred percent."

A pleased rumble. "Good girl."

Softly, tenderly, two great hands stroked up the sides of your thighs, gliding around your hips with his shuddering groan. Your suited man's hands felt like liquid sex, turning every patch of skin he touched into an erogenous zone.

By the time his thumbs had begun to trace up and down, up and down the V shaped creases of your mound, you squirmed in his grasp, heat pooling in your belly. He chuckled, his thumbs stretching up to massage circles on your lower belly, warming you before he filled you.

"Does that feel good?"

"So good," you whispered, struggling to remain bashful with his obvious adoration.

This warm-palmed massage, from belly, to V, to thighs, to hips, and back again, melted you. Your thighs began to part, your code cracked, without you even noticing. When he settled his hips between your thighs, you moaned involuntarily, and felt his mouth, familiar only to your lips, begin to trail kisses along your ribs, your breasts hidden by a thin black curtain.

He appeared to resist temptation, nipping along the marks left by your bra beneath your breasts. Though outwardly calm, his hands grew ever tighter, shockingly strong and needy on your hips, and you could feel how ragged his breaths were against the soft wet suckling marks left by his mouth.

You had never felt so worshipped, and your suited man seemed determined to know you before he buried himself inside you. The only natural response to those strong hands beginning to creep up the inside of your thighs, was to offer him the treasure he sought, by opening your thighs completely to him.

"Please, can I...make you come on my fingers?"

At this point, you'd have to beg him not to stop if you opened your mouth, and instead locked your thighs around his hips so he couldn't escape. That deep chuckle again, this time against your sternum, and he kissed you in reward.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I won't, I-- o-oooh...my...haaaah..."

His fingers, wet with his spit, had slid between your folds, two of them teasing around your entrance while his thumb circled with blissful ease around your clit.

Utterly unafraid of playing you like an instrument, he massaged your little bud until the noises you made were to his liking. You whimpered to feel the insistent press of his two thick fingers, and his murmured growls, add to the fold.

"Fuck, you're...perfect. Get you ready...or I won't fit...fuck..."

Within seconds, he had found your spongy soft spot, turning your moans guttural, making love to you with his fingers before he took you. Your suited man was certainly no boy, responding to every moan, and every whimper, with the surety needed to take you to orgasm.

Only the tenting press of his cock, harder than ever against your inner thigh, gave away how well he was controlling himself for your sake. Already at the edge, you tumbled into completion when one beautiful, fine boned hand slipped under the curtain to cup your breast, to the tune of his hushed curses.

"Come for me, my love."

As if he hadn't noticed you were already arching, mewling, and fucking yourself down on his fingers, halfway through your peak. He stroked your inner walls as if to comfort you, shushing you, soothing, until your quivering pussy stilled around him. You heard the clink of his belt, your head spinning to remember that the best was still yet to come.

"Beautiful girl...sound so pretty when you come. I...I'll pull out--"

"--don't you dare."

The strangled noise that left him, and the way you felt a spurt of pre-cum spill onto your belly, signalled a farewell to his restraint. You squeaked to feel him bracket two thick, strong arms beneath your thighs, bracing you for the way he was about to take you.

Jolting into place, his cockhead nuzzled between your folds. He appeared to be needing nothing but ragged, shallow thrusts to pleasure himself against your oversensitive clit, his lovely voice speaking as if to himself before notching at your entrance.

"--s-so long, it's been...been so long...worth the wait, for you, though, sh-shit...augh..."

He entered you with one deep, smooth press, shushing you again with a tender grasp, and little shallow rocks to kiss his tip against your cervix. He felt absolutely enormous, squeezing himself into you until every little ridge within you shaped to him, hot and wet. You babbled, your words shooting through him like knives.

"--oh m-my god you feel so good so so good so big-- barely fits, o-ooohh--"

When you gasped with the sudden fullness, one of your hands flew down past the curtain to hold your lower belly, and something in your suited man snapped. He laid one hand over yours, pressing it down hard on your belly, before cursing a half-hearted apology, and taking you with the desperation of a man possessed.

Three strokes, deeper, and deeper, and deeper, sent him roaring into a frenetic pace. Your hand clasping your lower belly had sent him spiralling. If his other hand hadn't held your hip so tightly, you'd have been fucked up the table.

And despite the mind-numbing force of his thrusts, you still, with every scrap of you, knew that he was making love to you, and not just fucking you. It made no difference, in the end, your voice growing in volume until it was nothing more than whimpered, mewling cries, only wishing you could have a name upon your tongue instead.

Stilted with the force of his thrusts, he blessed you with it.

"Say...say my name..."

"I will I will just give it to me gimme your name--"

"Kento--"

"--o-ooohh, f-fuck, Kento, harder--"

The cry that left his chest was visceral, animalistic, wrenched out of him with the same sudden finality as his orgasm. You felt him fold over you, his hands gripping your ribcage, his cock jolting and twitching within you as the heavy, obscenely long ejaculation that you knew so well, filled your pussy instead of your mouth.

"--unh...unh...haah...aaa-aahhh never...never gonna come like that-- e-ever again...that was it, that was the...the one that'll end me-- fuck...darling..."

Your suited man's bucks grew lazy, his torso almost completely blanketing yours, humping away the last vestiges of his orgasm. He stayed nestled within you, unwilling to let you go yet. You reached through the curtain, stroking a hand through his hair, and hearing him purr.

"...Kento, huh?"

He huffed a laugh. "Sorry, I...was that too intimate?"

"That? You're worried that was the intimate part?"

He laughed, rich and deep and genuine, kissing your ribs once more. You heard him reach into his pocket, and you spoke up, immediate.

"I won't let you pay me for that--"

"--I absolutely fucking am--"

"--no you are not--"

After he won the argument, and left with heavy reluctance, your manager pulled you aside with a dirty grin.

"You were popular tonight. How many men? Ten? Twelve?"

You blinked, confused.

"Just...just the one. Right at the end."

Your manager shook his head, turning back to the TV in his grubby little office, his fingers orange with Cheeto dust. Your brain ticked, and whirred...all the mumbling outside your gloryhole. All the murmurs, men almost visiting before moving on...and it clicked with absolute certainty.

Your suited man had guarded your gloryhole all night, paying other men to choose another woman. To choose anyone but you.

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"I worried you wouldn't be here."

You swallowed, sniffling, and settling behind your wall. More terrible monsters had settled around the building, blocking almost every pathway in, and you knew that you'd have abandoned your shift and run home to hide, if not for the hope of hearing your suited man again.

"You're...crying, my love, why are you crying?"

You felt him stiffen against the other side of the wall, at the sound of your sniffle, and his hand automatically reached through to cup your face, his thumb swiping away your tears. You turned your cheek into his palm, holding his hand against you.

Your gaze turned to the doorway...and to the bug-eyed, many-armed, puce coloured spindly monster leaning around it to stare at you.

You shrieked, crashing against your wall in terror. Your suited man took in a sharp breath, and the normal chatter and movement of the room quieted at your cry. Your suited stranger grasped your hand hard to hold you still, and his voice dropped to a horrified whisper.

"Stop-- oh, fuck, I understand-- your monsters-- can you see that? That thing in the doorway?"

Time slowed. Your jaw dropped. Your voice was thick, quiet, your insanity validated for the first time in your life.

"Kento, you...see it too?"

"Oh fuck. This...this is why you're in this place? Never been able to hold down a job, no? You've never felt safe anywhere?"

You could do nothing but weep into his palm, nodding, and nodding, and nodding. His voice rang, deep and commanding and final.

"I've got you. I...I've got you. You're safe. Just come with me."

"Kento, I can't just walk out--"

"You can. You don't need money. I've got enough. You just need...you just need me. I'll...I'll tell you everything. I'll explain everything."

When your face, tearstained and sniffling, leaned around the edge of your wall, you froze. Kento froze.

The silence was thick with wonderment, already in love before you had even seen each others' faces. But now that you saw him (obscenely handsome, tall, kind-eyed and exhausted), already overwhelmed, a sob bubbled over--

"Oh, god, you're so out of my league--"

A scoff, and adoration burning in his tired, under-shadowed eyes. He held out one hand, rescuing you as you'd rescued him.

"Come. I have some calls to make. You can tell me your name over dinner."

Your feet were numb as Kento walked you past the monster, shielding your fearful gaze with his hand. You ignored the shouts of your managers, half-deaf and stunned. In the chill evening air, his arm that was not around you, reached into his pocket, tapping, before holding a phone to his ear.

"Gojo, it's Nanami...why are you laughing?"

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angelicsoka · 6 months ago

Text

THE HAT RULE, t. owens

word count | 1.7k words

pairings | tyler owens x meteorologist!fem!reader

summary | where tyler owens decides to show the reader what the hat rule is.

warnings | MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY!! HEAVY smut! reader doesn’t know the hat rule. not proofread. lowercase intended.

a/n | first of all, sorry for disappearing, i've had NO motivation to write on here, but i saw twisters yesterday and seeing glen powell in a cowboy hat changed me as a person, and also gave me motivation to write. i’ve never written a full smut so i apologize if this sucks, i've stepped out of my comfort zone for this one.

the first time you had ever encountered a tornado was a memory you were sure to never forget. growing up in new york meant rain and snow but no tornadoes. so when traveling to nebraska on a field trip in high school, you were unprepared when the sirens sounded, sending everyone into a frenzy. you had watched as the rain pelted from the sky, a funnel forming up above. you were mesmerized as your teacher pulled you to safety, a sort of thrill tearing through your body. from that moment on, you knew what you wanted to do. you went to college for meteorology, graduating near top of your class before going onto to work at a local news station. but it never quite settled the feeling that something was missing, until you stumbled across tyler owens’ youtube channel.

tyler owens had become a sensation, a daredevil who did more than just chase the storms, he rode into them. and that seemed to heighten that need of a thrill. so, you hit him up and to your surprise, he replied. and what had started out as a week off of work to storm chase with the daredevil, turned to going part time at your job and joining him on the road.

that was a season ago, and now you were sat at a dingy bar, sipping a beer with tyler and the team. the man himself was sat on the stool next to you, nursing his own beer and listening to lily speak. you ignored the slight butterflies that entered your stomach as he laughed. you had learned to never mix work and love, but something about tyler had you questioning that lesson. he looked mighty fine in his blue jeans and button up, supporting a cowboy’s hat on his head. you noticed your beer was gone, standing up you turned to your crew.

“i'm gonna get another beer, can i get anyone anything?” no’s were murmured around the group except for one.

“i could use another, how ‘bout i come with ya?” you shrugged, tyler getting up to walk with you. lily let out a low whistle, stopping at your glare.

“be my guest.” you two walked over to the bar top, signaling the busy bartender. “can we get two more, when you get a sec?” the bartender nodded, going to make a few drinks before he could grab their bottles.

“so, miss city girl, how you likin’ riding with us? ready to go back to the big apple yet?” tyler questioned, turning to look down at you slightly. damn the height difference.

“don’t think you’re getting rid of me that quick, i have a lot more storm chasing left in me, cowboy.” you winked, tyler laughing. you debated for just a moment before reaching up and taking the cowboy hat from his head.

“the hell you think you’re doing?” tyler questioned as you placed the hat on your own head, admiring your reflection on your phone.

“you wear this hat all the damn time, i just wanted to see if there was something special about it? maybe it has some magical powers or something.” the bartender came back around, beer bottles in hand. you thanked him, handing him some cash before turning back to tyler, who had an odd look in his eye. you quickly took off the hat, worried you had pissed him. you went to hand it back to him, when tyler shook his head:

“keep it on, it suits you.” tyler picked up his beer, beginning back to the table. the comment caused a light blush to dust your cheeks. shaking your head, you hoped it didn't show too much as you followed him back. you sat in your seat, confused by the odd looks you received from the crew. nobody said anything about the hat as the night went on, but that didn’t stop the odd looks.

by last call, it was you and tyler left of the crew. thankfully the bar was across the street from the motel, tyler paying the tab much to your protest, before setting off back to the motel. you had forgotten you still wore tyler’s hat upon your head, only remembering when you went to brush your hair from your eyes, your hand bumping the rim. “hey, do you know why everyone kept giving me weird looks after i put your hat on? and why boone and dani wouldn’t stop snickering?” tyler looked over to you as you climbed the stairs of the motel.

“you don't know?” you shook your head in response, tyler holding a bewildered look. “you don't know the hat rule?”

“there’s a hat rule?” tyler stopped at his door, which neighbors your’s and lily’s. “what?”

“you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” he deadpanned, your eyes widening and a heavy blush coating your cheeks.

“oh my god! i promise i wasn’t trying to imply that or anything. not there’s anything wrong with you, because you’re– well you’re you, and–” you fumbled over your words, stopping mid sentence when tyler laughed.

“hey, it's fine. if you weren’t trying to insinuate that, that’s fine. but if you were, well, now's your chance. and i’d be more than happy to show you how that rule works.” tyler walked closer, a minimal amount of space between you, just enough to allow you to choose whether you close that gap or leave.

you stood there for a moment, stunned at his offer. and without much thought, you closed the gap, hands going to grip his face and pull him closer to you. his hands moved to your hips, fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts. the kiss was feverish, all unspoken feelings surfacing. tyler began to pull away much to your dismay, one hand leaving your hip to fish out his keys from his pocket as he moved his other arm to hold your waist. he unlocked the door with ease, pulling you inside and shutting the door before pushing you up against it, the hat falling as he did so. he went to town on your neck, enticing soft moans and whimpers from your lips. the way he sucked at your neck and how he had previously handled you had conjured up a pool of wetness in your panties.

your arm wrapped around his neck, holding him to your throat, as your fingers tugged at his hair. he groaned against your skin, biting down ever so softly when you tugged on his hair. he gripped at your leg, pulling it up to give him better access to your cunt. he rubbed his clothed cock along you covered cunt, pleased with the moans that escaped your mouth.

“god, keep moaning like that and i might have to take you right here.” you blushed once more, pulling tyler to meet your lips once more. you pushed off the door, lips still connected to tyler’s as you blindly pushed him back to the bed. his legs hit the edge of the bed, tyler breaking the kiss as he pulled off your shirt, both of you kicking off your shoes and socks before lips were reattached once more.

you pulled back, tyler unbutton his shirt as you began to work on his belt buckle. “woah, easy, pretty girl. you’ll get a taste, don’t worry. the night’s still young. but for now, i gotta show ya what happens when ya wear the hat.” tyler pulled off his shirt, walking to pick up the forgotten hat, placing it on your head. “this stays on.” you nodded, eyes hooded as tyler pulled your shorts and panties down. “you’re even more perfect than i had imagined.” before you could question him, tyler pulled his jeans off, his boxers next as his cock sprung up. tossing them to the side tyler pulled you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed, “you sure ‘bout this? i don’t have any condoms.” tyler asked, different from how he just was. you nodded, kissing him softly.

“i’m on the pill, and i trust you.” tyler nodded, holding over his cock as he slowly guided it along your pussy. you held yourself up as tyler’s thumb rubbing your clit, enjoying your whimpers. “please, tyler.” you begged, tyler aligning his cock with your entrance before guiding you down. you hand went your hat as your head rested on tyler’s shoulder, almost pornographic moans escaping from your lips. “oh my god.” he slowly eased himself into you, whispering praises as he did so.

“god, feels like you were made for me.” your cunt hugged his cock beautifully. when his cock was fully in, he allowed you to get used to the stretch, “tell me when you're ready.” you stilled for a moment, adjusting to his size. you kissed and sucked on his neck, slowly beginning to rock your hips. “fuck, let’s get this off of ya.” tyler’s hands skillfully unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, fingers ghosting over your perky nipples. you pulled off his shoulder, giving him better access to your tits. “you’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.” tyler attached his mouth to one of your nipples, enticing a soft moan. you continued to ride him, hips moving faster as you chased your incoming orgasm. your left hand gripped tyler’s shoulder, fingernails digging into his bare skin as your right hand held onto the hat that adorned your head.

as your orgasm inched closer and closer, your movements became more erratic, chasing your high. tyler moaned, whispering praises as your walls clenched around his cock. he knew you were close, mouth moving to your pulse point as he pounded into you, taking over. tyler clapped a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit, muffling your screams so you didn't wake up your neighbors. his movements however did not slow as he worked you through your orgasm, chasing his own high. your legs trembled as he continued to pound into you, your second orgasm of the night approaching quickly. “fuck! fuck, ty-” you cut yourself off, body shaking as you hit your climax once more. tyler began to huff and moan, pulling you impossibly closer as he reached his own high. you blubbered, unable to form actual words as tyler’s hands roamed your body. you pulled back, kissing him roughly.

“goddamn,” he helped you off his cock, helping guide you onto the bed, “think you’ll be able to handle a round two?”

“don’t go thinking you can get rid of me that easily.”

#angelicsoka #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens smut #twisters #glen powell x reader #glen powell smut #imagine #glen powell imagine #tyler owens imagine

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bioethicists · 1 year ago

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this is going to sound simplistic + i promise you it's not: stop following people whose entire schtick is being cruel or fighting with others online. even if the ppl deserve it! even if it's not a ~problematic~ cruelty! even if you agree with all of that blog's opinions!

it's one thing if someone snaps back when provoked or posts the occasional "get a load of this guy". nobody needs to play up respectability for people who haven't given them respect in return. but if someone's online identity centers around being needlessly mean for laughs + they're constantly seeking out socially acceptable, easy targets for petty cruelty, that's a red flag. there's a huge difference between not taking shit/cracking a joke + mocking others as your several-hours-a-day hobby.

especially if, when they are inevitably in the wrong + mocking someone mercilessly to their 50k followers over something petty goes south (shocking!), they become extremely defensive or block everyone or play the victim or dismiss it as "well, how was i supposed to know they were autistic? i'm autistic + i don't meow in public" or whatever.

this isn't a "well i knew all along" post bcuz nobody should be shamed for being in the dark about something like this but many of the popular bloggers who have later been exposed for serious harassment or abuse should not have shocked us. if someone's blog is 90% shit like "you should light yourself on fire because you watch x anime" or "look at this so-called lesbian bitch + her ugly fucking boyfriend at a kink convention- it's giving drowned rats", should it really shock you that they are also being cruel or abusive in less internet-acceptable ways? if they've already shown you that they get a such a thrill out of being vicious that they do it daily + are regularly rewarded with thousands of followers?

#it's so bad on other social media platforms too #like the number of tiktokkers whose fame is just being MEAN but in a funny way #towards ppl who have done nothing to deserve it but also are not like. oppressed groups #half the time it's ppl who i also personally dislike or dont relate to but don't deserve like. repeated violent harassment #like sure i also dislike marvel movies but it's far more embarassing to run a blog dedicated to mocking + suicide baiting random marvel fan

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lalunanymph · 6 months ago

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PAYBACK

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ when it comes to putting you back in your place, no one does it better than sylus

⋆｡°✩ tags: sylus x fem!reader, established relationship, d/ry humping, t/easing, s/ucking him off through his sweats, m/istress kink, whiny!sylus, r/estraints, b/dsm, o/rgasm control, t/ease and denial, dom!reader (for like, a little while) -> sub!reader, p/leasure dom!sylus, noncon (reader ties sylus up first), o/ral sex, petnames (baby, kitten, little dove), s/ir kink, b/egging, r/uined orgasm

⋆｡°✩ dawn says: SYLUS DAY TOMORROW !! may all the sylus wanters be sylus havers 🙏🏼 also tags were glitching on me so i had to change up the warnings format SORRY :')

"Hmm... what's this?"

Sylus blinks the sleep from his eyes to find you straddling his thighs, a smirk in place.

It's not like the Onychinus leader to ever let his guard down, but give the man a break—he's exhausted after trying to escape a raid last night.

And instead of letting him sleep, what does his precious little lover do?

That's right—she's got him all tied up to their bed.

His brows furrow, and he tugs on the knot, frustration growing alongside his respect. The knots were a solid 10/10; he could barely move if given a chance.

"Little one, what is this?" He tries to sound understanding, concerned, even.

You snicker. "What does it look like, Sy?" The pretty manicure you got on his card makes him pause. He barely blinks, taking in the sight of your hands sliding down his bare chest. He thinks the red and black combination suits you very, very well indeed.

Blood-red eyes narrow and his jaw ticks. "I would say you're playing with fire, kitten. Let me go—now."

It's an order—one you don't listen to.

"Say, Sy," you casually drape yourself all over him, enjoying his squirming. "Your neck is very sensitive, isn't it?"

Your finger trails from his jaw right to his jugular, hovering over the strip of skin.

"Shit, no," he cusses, flinching back from your touch. "Don't even think about it—"

Your lips replace your finger, trailing hot kisses down his neck. Sylus swallows down an embarrassing gasp, hands turning to fists above his head.

"Kitten, I'm warning you."

But, you don't listen to him—you never do.

Your mouth moves from his neck down to his chest, circling over his well-built chest. Your hair tickles him, trailing after your mouth that moves from chest to stomach down to his pelvis. So dangerously close to where he can feel you the most.

"Kitten, I'm serious here." His voice is a low growl, shooting a dirty thrill up your spine. "Stop teasing me and let me go."

You hum, moving your teasing little mouth to band of his sweatpants. Sylus' abs constrict the second he sees your naughty tongue lick a strip across his happy trail and he swears Devil horns appear on your head.

You grin, running your hand down the seam of his inner thigh.

"Sy," your tone is innocent, though a lustful demon is controlling you. "You're naked underneath those sweats, right?"

The 28-year-old underground leader is no idiot. He can tell when a kitten is itching to stretch her claws.

"Don't even think about it," he warns. Except, you're already doing it.

You touch the impressive bulge, proof that he was not immune to your teasing.

Oh, if only the Hunters Association could see you now. Sylus aches all over thinking about how he's gone off the deep end and ruined you—Linkon's shiniest Hunter—all for the sake of satisfying his dirty games.

The old you would never have found the guts to tie him up to his own bed and suck on him through his sweatpants. She would never have the nerve to be such a little slut.

But, he's changed you. For better or for worst, he can't decide.

Especially not right now when you straighten and he finally notices you in his black silk shirt, buttons sloppily done like a child did them, the too big collar slipping down to expose your shoulders.

Shit. An unwilling groan slips past his clenched teeth when you straddle his lap again and he sees you have no panties on. Fucking hell... she's out for my blood.

"Y/N," he growls your real name now, dead serious. "No more games. Untie me right this instant—fuck."

You grind down on his still clothed bulge, blinking your eyes innocently.

He growls, shaking his head. "I'm the one who ties you up. Or, have you forgotten, kitten?"

A tinkling laugh reaches his hot ears. "You sound like you're not enjoying yourself when this—" you reach for his dick and squeeze it, ignoring his hiss of pleasure. "—is proof that you are."

Oh. He narrows his eyes, licks his lips. You're going to get it this time.

But, your hand on him feels too good, and Sylus can't deny that a sick, twisted part of him is loving this.

His arms tense, tugging on the rope, his expression a cross between ecstasy and pain.

"If you beg me, I'll suck you off," you promise.

A hollow laugh. "Beg you? Beg. You? Shit, a-ah—no way. I'm not giving in. Not gonna give into you. I'm not—" He chokes on a moan. You're fondling his tip through the scratchy material. "Fuck. Fuck. Okay. Okay. Please?"

His voice goes quiet at the end, and you hum.

"Please, what?"

Sylus bares his teeth. No fucking way were you being dead serious.

You grin, twisting your wrist. "Say it, Sy. Please, Mistress."

His jaw ticks, glare deepening. You think he's going to give in—his surrender right at the tip of your tongue.

Suddenly, he starts to laugh. "Oh, Y/N. Sweet, sweet little kitten. You forgot something. Wanna see it?"

You stare at him in confusion, not sure what he's hinting at.

Sylus' smirk deepens, and he exhales another diabolical chuckle.

"You forgot to loop the tie, you foolish little Hunter."

Before your fast reflexes can kick in, his super fast ones have you pinned to the bed, beating you at your own game. The ropes you restrain him with are now around your wrist and you're tethered in the same spot you once had him in.

Pink dusts his cheeks, and Sylus is breathing hard like he's run a marathon. His frosty locks are a mess, but nothing is as terrifying as the sneer on his face.

It burns through you, leaving you breathless when he presses his face closer; you can physically smell the triumph radiating off him.

"What was it you said just a few minutes ago? Ah." His voice drops to a hush whisper; deep baritone caressing the shell of your ear as his hitched breathing teases you, drawing you deeper into the pit of your mistake.

Rubbing in your face how wrong you are for trying to play the master manipulator himself.

"Call you 'Mistress'? Make me beg? Oh, my little dove." He yanks the knots tighter and you yelp at the bite of pain. Sylus leaves enough room for you to wiggle around and make sure the blood still flows, though there's no other give.

Once again, you're trapped under him.

"I can smell your fear," he mocks, raising a brow. "It's so... addictive."

Returning the favor, Sylus nudges your chin up. "Lift your face up, baby. Lift it."

His mouth touches the nape of your neck, dragging towards your pulse point, your jaw, and back to your collarbones, leaving hot and wet kisses everywhere he can reach. Your sweet sounds are addictive, driving him crazy.

"You kissed me all over my body," he drawls in that seductive accent.

Another wet kiss on your shoulder. Sylus takes his time to unbutton the shirt you stole from him, humming under his breath. You flinch once your chest is exposed, and his smirk deepens.

"No way to escape for you now, kitten."

"Sylus, I'm sorry," you blurt out, but it's too late. He's already decided on your punishment.

"Tch." Clicking his tongue, he stands, looking ravishing in just his low slung, gray sweatpants. "I'll be back, little dove. Wait for me."

You can't see where he's disappeared to, only hearing him come back with more loops of rope.

"What's that?" you squeak.

"Nothing for you to worry," he hums, grabbing your ankle and fastening it with a round of rope, attaching it to the bed post. He does the same with your other ankle, and you're truly spread out for him with no way to escape.

Caught in his web you spun of your own stubbornness and greed.

"Sy—"

He shushes you, bringing a dark material right to your face and you tremble when you realize what it is.

"I told you that you have nothing to worry about, little dove," he murmurs, fingers working deftly to secure the blindfold around your eyes.

Darkness encases you, and you're tied to his bed, spread-eagle and helpless.

The bed dips beside you, and you feel the heat of his body hovering over yours.

"Now, what did you do to me a few moments ago, little dove? Oh, right." He grabs your face, tilting your head back. "You kissed me all over my neck."

His mouth resumes its carnal path across your sensitive skin, your hips bucking whenever a bite of pain from his teeth grazes you.

"My chest."

Sylus mouths at your collarbones, smearing hot kisses down your clavicles, over your breasts, stopping to suck and tease your nipples until you cry out in pleasure.

"Oh, I forgot how sensitive your sweet buds are," he murmurs huskily, pinching your nipples until they swell and throb. "What else did you do, hmm? Oh, yes..."

The marks of heat move down your body, right to your tummy; his kisses loud and lewd.

"Mhm, you kissed me right over my stomach..."

"Sy." Your whimpers draw another evil smirk on his handsome face. He can tell you're crumbling in real time. "Please."

You have no idea what you're begging for. But, Sylus hears you loud and clear.

"Don't worry, little dove. I won't tease you like how you teased me." His voice is magnetic, drawing you deeper into his web with his husky baritone and deep whispers. "Not... like... this..."

As he speaks, he caresses your stomach, loving how it flexes and twitches when he moves his touch right to your inner thighs.

"Do you want me to eat you out, kitten?" Sylus hums, and you fight back a shiver at the possessive undercurrent in his question.

"Yes," you admit, unable to help yourself. Your hips quiver, a moan falling past your mouth when he presses a languid kiss onto your inner thigh. "Yes, please."

"Please, what?" he taunts, drawing circles on your hips with his thumb. "Ask me nicely and I might oblige, little dove."

This is Sylus in his element—on top, domineering and controlling all the ropes. You have no choice but to give into him if you want to feel the barest hint of pleasure that he's holding back from you.

"Sir," you gasp, flinching at the bite of his fingernails digging into your plush thigh. "Please, Sir."

The second the word leaves your mouth, he's all over your drooling cunt.

Sylus eats you out in broad, languid strokes, focusing on your clit; using his tongue to play with it, bathing it with tender mouthfuls of praises and degradation all in one.

You wanna come, baby? Wanna mess up my face?

In another breath, he pushes a finger past your quivering pussy, curving it upward to hook on your softest spot. Your hips drive forward, a yelp perforating the heavy air.

No, kitten. You can't come. You can't—oh, fuck.

Sylus drinks in your taste, spreading your shaking thighs further apart. His broad palms trickle up your chest, cupping your heaving breasts and playing with your stiff nipples. He pinches them just as his tongue slips inside your tender heat, nose rubbing against your clit.

Tears stain the blindfold, your mouth hanging wide open in ecstasy. Sylus wishes he could paint a picture of you looking this wanton and needy.

You can't come, baby, he murmurs in between your folds. I won't let you. You've been such a bad girl. I'm gonna edge you until you can't think. Ah-ah. No cumming. No, no. He grounds you back down onto the mattress with those large palms, stopping you from grinding on his face.

I'm gonna ruin every orgasm you have—don't think I don't know when you're coming, baby. I know you. I can taste you. I know when you're close.

Your body is taut as a bow, teeth gritted and nails digging crescent indents into your palms.

Every time you climb towards the point of no return, Sylus drags you back down; backing away from your pussy, leaving you squirming and desperately writhing on the bed for minutes on end until your orgasm fades away—only to restart the entire process again from square one.

"Now you feel my pain, little dove?" He wipes your tears away, humming lowly. "It's not nice to tease people, isn't it?"

Point taken. You mumble his name, and twist your head as if trying to search for him. "Sylus, please. I wanna come."

Oh? This delights him. You're finally breaking down. You want to come, little one? Then, beg.

Your hips clip all needy against his, and your mouth puckers into a frown.

"Sy—"

He grabs your chin, holding you fast as his lips barely touch yours. Beg me.

Please. You lick your lips, tasting nothing but him. Please, Sy. Please, please. Make me cum.

He's back between your thighs, a fiend for your pussy. Sucking, licking, moaning and breathing deeply—it's erotic and obscene, salacious sounds bouncing across the walls. Your head is spinning, the entire room tunneling into one singular sensation of his tongue deep in your cunt.

Those slender, calloused fingers are back on your nipples, bringing you to the brink of insanity. You've bitten your lips hard enough to draw blood; your hips buck, and you're begging for him to give you a reprieve without a second thought.

Please, Sir. Please. Please make me come. I can't—I need it. I need you.

Yeah? A ghost of his chuckle caresses through your folds and you think he's going to relent.

Going to give you what you want, so you try again.

"Please?" You're so close it almost hurts. Your thighs are cramping, arms straining, back about to break with how tautly you're struggling in his restraints. "Please? Please, Sy. Please."

"Mhm," he murmurs, and you think he's going to give in. Finally going to let you climax after stringing you along for what feels like hours.

"No."

He kisses your clit as tears of frustration trickle down your face.

Sylus was never going to give you what you wanted—not when he already has you in the palm of his hand.

— scenario inspired by one of my fave y2f audios <3 feedback and reblogs are appreciated <333

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or translate across other sites. do not copy my sentence structures, plot or characterization.

#🦢 writes #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x reader #sylus smut #lnds smut #sylus qin #lnds sylus #sylus x you #sylus drabbles #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #lnds #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace mc #love and deepspace x reader

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