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ramp-it-up · 3 days
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Two Most Wanted Pt. 4...Anytime you Like
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Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"
Summary: You have your way with Sy. Or is it him having his way with you? 🧐
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, talk of birth control, Graphic sex. Fingering, manual sex (f receiving) oral, Dom Sy is coming out to play, degredation AND praise kink, dirty talk kink, begging, raw p in v, size kink, pleasurable pain, rough sex, copious amounts of bodily fluids, some fluff and just a lil' angst at the end. This is 2.5k of porn with a teeny tiny bit of plot.
Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N:  This is the fourth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Previous part here
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Sy gladly let you pull him into your rental.
Then, he took control.
He pushed you against the wall and placed his hands on your waist, bending down because of the height difference, even though you were wearing four inch-heels. You’d missed how tiny he made you feel.
Sy’s mouth was so close to yours as he queried you. His eyes were so intense.
“You’re not done with me yet, eh?”
You pouted and his lips tenderly touched yours, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips. His tongue insisted that you belonged to him and yours agreed, the two dancing passionately.
“Good girl. Opening up for me like that.”
Your head was spinning and you whined in your throat. 
“Hm.” 
Sy grunted and then smiled before he kissed you again. You were glad for the wall as you were weak for him again. 
“Whatcha wanna do with me, Buttercup?”
Sy’s fingers were on your ribcage now, his large hands spanning your torso. Then, his hands were everywhere as he explored your body, from your breasts over your dress, to your back, down to your ass, which he squeezed as his mouth possessed yours again.
“I want to be your cum slut, Sy. Want you inside me.”
Sy stopped moving, resting his forehead on yours and his hands on your hips. He huffed into your face.
“Holy shit, Buttercup. I thought I was calm after what that mouth of yours did in the Bronco. But what that mouth of yours says…”
Sy’s hand was on your jaw and you turned your head to capture his thumb and suck it. 
“Wan’ you to fill me up, Sy.”
You looked him straight in the eye as he pressed the rock hard length in his pants against you. His pupils were blown and you felt enormous power.
“Hm. The thoughts you think, Buttercup.”
Sy examined your face as he questioned you, his blue eyes making you shiver.
“You want me to fuck you raw…?”
You smiled at his lewd suggestion and the gravel in his voice, and lifted your arms, placing them on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 
“I’m on the pill. And tested regularly. But only if you want to.”
The expression on his face was priceless.
“If I want to? Hell, Buttercup. I’ve wanted this for 20 years. Jesus, it's really happening.”
He looked as if he would devour you.
An unexpected joy at his want caused a giggle to bubble up in your throat as Sy rolled you around the corner, further into the room, and started trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck right below your ear. His hand was on your ass as you started to grind on air. He remembered your spot.
“Fuck, Sy!”
His other hand came up around your neck and tightened to let you know who was in charge, and you whimpered as he looked down at you and grinned.
You pouted at him, frustrated because you wanted to feel all of the things at once.
Sy’s hands roamed, finding your waist again and lifting your feet off the ground as he kissed you, making you heated at the show of his power. He set you down again, squeezing your breasts and sucking the tops of them in your dress as you writhed in his grip. 
“Let me see you in the light, Buttercup.”
He reached around and wasted no time in pushing his shirt off your shoulders and unzipping your dress to let it fall to the floor.
Sy stepped back and took all of you in. You felt like a piece of art as he studied you. You concentrated on not covering up. 
This was a long time in coming.
“Damn, Buttercup. You’re so beautiful. All of you. Better’n my dreams.”
Sy looked into your eyes after taking in your curves. Hungry.
“Kiss me, Sy.”
He did as you asked, hands on your breasts now, kneading them and weighing them in his hands, his thumbs thrumming you like an instrument. He kissed you fiercely, then looked into your eyes again as he slid down to inhale you, mouth sliding over your flesh, between, underneath, on top, and finally, sucking your nipples into his mouth with abandon.
You moaned as your pussy pulsed with need.
“Sy…please…”
“Don’t rush me now, baby. I’m gonna savor this.”
He kissed you again, and then slid his hand down your torso to your pussy, finding you still so wet for him.
“Hm. Such a good girl, with such a good pussy. Here. See.”
He held your gaze as he brought his fingers up and put them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.
It was so dirty that you practically came from the taste of your desire for Jacob Syverson. 
“Thaaaat’s a girl. Get ‘em even wetter.”
He removed his hand and brought it back down to your cunt.
“I want you to cum for me. Right now.”
“S-Yyyyyyy!”
Most of his fingers went inside you while his thumb stroked your clit. He practically lifted you off the ground as he fucked you with his hand, watching your face as he alternated marking you up and sucking your nipples hard.
“So fuckin’ hot, Buttercup. Good girl.”
His voice was doing things to you. Sy grinned and his eyebrow arched as he felt you clench on his fingers. He brought his mouth close to your ear.
“Which is it, Buttercup? Are you a cum slut, or a good girl?”
Your head went back into the wall as you moaned, baring your throat to him again.
“Or is it both? Are you my good little cum slut?”
“Oh my fucking godddddd!!!!”
You came in his arms and Sy watched you, his mouth open in awe. He couldn’t wait anymore.
He picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, dropping you on the bed as he took off his shoes and clothes. You sat up to look at him.
He was massive. Sy had matured from a lithe youth to a grown man and he was thick all over. The curls on his head continued on his face and on his chest, a dark rush of it pointing down to his cock, which you knew was big, because you’d tried to swallow it earlier. But seeing it like this, hard and throbbing, curved against his hairy stomach, large mushroom tip leaking, thick shaft throbbing, made you lean back with your legs open. 
‘I want that,’ you thought.
Sy took it in his hand and started stroking, causing precum to drip out and you to lick your lips.
“You’re about to get it, Buttercup. Anything you want. Look so fucking beautiful all laid out for me.”
You smiled as you realized you’d said that out loud and you opened your legs wider as he climbed between them. He handled you like a rag doll as he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to his legs as he knelt on the bed. He grabbed your knees and spread your legs up and apart as his long thick cock slid in between your legs, smearing your wetness all along the underside of his shaft.
“Mmmmmmmm, Sy, want more.”
He was skating in your slick, driving you wild with the tease of the cap of his cock catching on your clit as he moved back and forth.
“Patience, Buttercup. Need to lube myself up with your cream.”
Sy was enjoying how wet you were and the fact that he was actually between your legs after all this time. He watched, almost mesmerized, at his cock moving through your folds, and his dick jumped, slapping you on the clit and making you moan.
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease… OH shitttt. It’s too much!”
You’d gone from begging for his dick to pleading for mercy as his thick head breached you. You stared at Sy wide eyed as he grabbed his shaft and stopped moving. His heart clenched at the thought of hurting you.
“You good? Want me to…”
He made to pull out and then you implored him.
“No! I mean, it’s so big, Sy… but I want it. Need. It.”
You grabbed your breasts as you felt him cock jump within you.
“More, please.”
“Mmmmmmoooooahhhh,” Sy groaned deeply as he slowly eased into you and at the vision of you pulling your own nipples as he stretched out your soul. 
He bottomed out and licked your exposed neck, causing you to shudder in his hands, which were gripping your ribcage. You looked like sin and felt like heaven around him. 
“You good, Buttercup? Please say you’re good. I need you to be good, baby. ‘Cause I need to fuck you so bad….”
Sy was panting and his heartbeat was erratic.
As always, his words made you gush wetness and you arched as you kissed him, laying down fully and bringing your hands to his short curls.
“I’m good Sy,” you looked him in the eyes. “So fucking good, all full of you. Fuck me. Please… ah!”
As soon as you said ‘fuck me,’ Sy started moving slowly, dragging sparks with with each millimeter of movement inside you.
“More…”
You whispered it as all of your senses came alive and were overwhelming you. 
Sy sped up and looked from your eyes to his cock destroying your pussy. He couldn’t focus on one thing for too long, your face, your hair splayed out beneath you, hour breasts with nipples erect and bouncing, the way he was moving you like a doll as he helped himself deliver the dick to your pussy.
“Good god Buttercup. This cunt is so tight and wet and hot for me. Shit, you stretched around me is so much better than my imagination….”
“Ooooh. Sy. Feels so…Your cock goes so deep.”
It had never been like this before. With anyone.
Sy gave you a mischievous grin as he leaned back and grabbed your knees, bringing them up and bending you in half so that he could plunge even deeper inside you.
Your head shot up to witness him ravaging you as he slowly fucked you with long and deep strokes. You dug your nails into his forearms, holding on for dear life. He fucked you so good that you gouged scratches down his arm and the pain sparked a new pleasure in him that he didn’t know he needed at the moment.
He was inspired to fuck you better, faster, harder.
Sy reached up behind your head and pulled it down by the thick curls at your nape as he leaned over you, caging you in with his massive body as he thoroughly and soundly tried to put you under the bed.
Your belly tightened, your insides in a vice grip of pleasure as you tried to run. There was nowhere to go, however, as Sy was all around you. He felt you tense up, heard your whimper and kept a steady pace, his balls tight against him, the notion of making you cum with just his cock a long held ideal.
“What’s wrong Buttercup?”  
He looked you in the eyes before he kissed your lips.
“Afraid to let go? Don’t want to let me have the cum I’ve been waiting for?”
“Unh! Sy…”
You felt him in your belly, thick in your channel like he was made of you. You knew what was about to happen. And you wanted to get away from it.
Sy read the look on your face.
“Unh unh. You’re going to stay and take my cock like a woman. Not gonna run. You’re gonna take this orgasm, gimme your cum like I deserve it.”
Sy didn’t let up on the intensity, but he looked down and surveyed what he was doing to you.
“Look at all that beautiful cream. Looks so fucking good. Making me drool.”
You had an out of body experience as you watched the saliva leave Sy’s mouth and drip onto your clit and as soon as it made contact, you came, gushing more fluid in between you two.
Sy pounded you through it for a few thrusts, then he pulled out and rushed to collect some of you on his tongue.
“Goddamn. So fucking good, Buttercup. Taste yourself.”
He was up again and before you could protest, was back inside you, hand on your throat as he kissed you hard and deep, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his resolute pounding and the taste of your cum combined. He trailed his hand down your neck to your breast, rolling your nipple for a second before finding your hand and holding it above your head as he looked into your eyes. 
Suddenly, he became tender, looking as if he was about to say something that you didn’t want to hear, so your other hand found his ass as you encouraged him to find his own end.
“Gimme your cum, Sy. You owe me. Some. Cum.”
He licked his lips at the filth you were uttering and responded in kind.
“Anything you want, Buttercup. I’ve got so much, you’ll be leaking for days.”
You arched your back and bit your lip at his words and as the music of skin slapping on skin intensified. You felt yourself tighten impossibly around him again. And so did Sy.
“Oh…. no….” 
You felt as if you couldn’t take another, but Sy wasn’t done with you yet.
“Oh, yes, baby. Just give me one… more….”
Sy’s thumb found your clit and as you came around him, he emptied all he had inside you.
“You feel like…like heaven, Buttercup.”
Your hands were on his face as you watched his ecstasy and as he pumped more and more of his seed inside you. You smiled and kissed his forehead as his head bent in exhaustion. You wanted to say that he was beautiful, but that would be more than you wanted to convey. You just kissed his lips when he looked back up at you again, and you collapsed on your sides, your bodily fluids between you and his slowly softening cock still inside you.
Sy pushed your hair back from around your sweaty face.
“Look, Buttercup, I know that you are holding back. But you can’t stop me from saying it again.”
“Sy-”
“Shhhh, Buttercup.”
Sy smiled. Handsome wasn’t the word.
“I love you. ‘Til the day I die.”
He brought your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.
“I know you’re still trying to process everything, and I can only imagine all of the things that are going on in that beautiful brain of yours, but you’re mine. I’m claiming you. Whether it's for the rest of our lives, or just for this weekend.”
You just looked at him and nodded, emotional and unable to speak.
“Just want you to know where I stand. This wasn’t just notalgia sex.”
He slipped out of you and rolled over on his back before he got up and headed toward the bathroom.
“And for whatever time period I have you, I’m yours. Anytime you like, Buttercup.”
He looked back at you with a saucy grin as he caught you ogling his ass.
You stared at the ceiling as you listened to him turn on the water. There was a lot going on in your head, but Sy had just told you that he wanted you and simultaneously taken the pressure off this weekend.
You thought about what you wanted. And what you wanted was currently taking a shower. You walked into the bathroom to have some more of him. You opened the shower door and Sy reached out and pulled you in.
“Get in here Buttercup, the water’s fine.”
That grin would do you in.
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Hit Reblog if you like it!
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Hiii, don't read whats below this
If you read this, you didn't listen to my sign :(. Good. Don't let a sign tell you what to do.
Oh btw I've adopted you. No, you don't have a choice.
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nikasholistic · 3 days
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Allow your ideas to unfold. Don’t immediately label them as ridiculous. Writing is all about trusting your imagination and allowing it to guide you.
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Reading your old writing like . . .
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circadeacademia · 1 day
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Prompt: How to exist (Escapril Day 29)
in the beginning, they teach you how to love.
they plump your heart with the crimson juice
running through your arteries;
and get you used to a heart emoji diet.
they applaud you for the lovesick robot act
and admire the soft fabric of your trousseau.
next, they teach you every emotion trapped under a crushed heart.
they make your agony sing over 20kHz and call you delusional when you play it over.
you burn the black curtains at your home
and invite them to your picnic funeral.
“size of a fist!” as you were told,
when they taught to dig a grave for your heart —
and you've been measuring dirt in fistfuls ever since.
at the end, you are meant to suck out the juice from your plumped fist anyway.
you must be starving, it's about time they teach you to devour.
if you ask me, i was taught —
how to love, how to feel
how to scream, how to kill
and i was taught to gnaw at everything thrown at me.
but besieged in roses and heavy machinery,
no one has ever taught me how to exist.
— circadeacademia
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monstersandbrothers · 18 hours
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just wrote a line from my own brain that so eviscerated me i had to physically get up from my computer
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Deep dives into folklore: Apocalpses
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The apocalypse, or the end of the world, has been a recurring theme across a wide range of mythologies, cultures, and folklore throughout history. These apocalyptic narratives offer insight into the beliefs, fears, and values of different societies. They explore how these cultures understood the world around them and how they sought to explain the end of life as they knew it. Despite the differences in cultural contexts, there are notable similarities and differences between apocalyptic depictions across various traditions. These narratives often serve as cautionary tales and reflections on human nature, societal anxieties, and cosmic cycles.
Similarities in Apocalyptic Narratives
1. Catastrophic Events:
Most apocalyptic stories involve some form of catastrophic event that brings about the end of the world. These can include natural disasters (such as floods, earthquakes, and volcanic eruptions), celestial phenomena (such as eclipses and comets), or even supernatural events. For example, in the Hebrew Bible, the story of Noah's Ark describes a great flood sent by God to cleanse the world of sin. Similarly, in Norse mythology, Ragnarök involves a great battle and cataclysmic events that lead to the destruction of the world.
2. Moral Judgment and Divine Retribution:
Many apocalyptic narratives involve a sense of divine judgment or retribution for human wrongdoing. The end of the world is often portrayed as a consequence of humanity's moral failings. For instance, the Book of Revelation in the New Testament describes a final judgment where the righteous are rewarded and the wicked are punished.
3. Cycles of Creation and Destruction:
In several cultures, apocalyptic events are seen as part of a larger cycle of creation and destruction. After the world ends, a new world or era may emerge. This is evident in Hindu mythology, where the concept of yugas (ages) describes a cycle of creation and destruction. The Kali Yuga, the current age, is expected to end with a cataclysmic event before a new age begins.
4. Heroes and Survivors:
Many apocalyptic stories feature heroes or survivors who play a key role in the narrative. These individuals often represent the best of humanity and may carry forward the legacy of the old world into a new one. For example, in Greek mythology, Deucalion and Pyrrha survive a great flood and repopulate the earth.
Differences in Apocalyptic Narratives
1. Cultural Context:
Apocalyptic narratives often reflect the specific concerns and values of the culture from which they originate. For example, the biblical flood narrative can be seen as a warning against moral decay and disobedience to divine law. In contrast, the Norse myth of Ragnarök emphasizes themes of fate, heroism, and the cyclical nature of existence.
2. Diverse Agents of Destruction:
The agents of destruction vary across different cultures. In some traditions, the apocalypse is triggered by gods or supernatural beings (e.g., the Norse gods in Ragnarök). In others, natural disasters or human actions play a central role (e.g., the flood in the Hebrew Bible or the destruction of Atlantis in Greek mythology).
3. Outcome and Resolution:
The outcomes of apocalyptic narratives can differ widely. Some stories end with a new beginning or rebirth (e.g., the Hindu concept of a new yuga following the Kali Yuga). Others conclude with finality, suggesting the end of all existence (e.g., some interpretations of the Book of Revelation).
Societal Impacts and Influences
1. Reflection of Anxieties:
Apocalyptic narratives often reflect societal anxieties and fears about the future. They may serve as cautionary tales that highlight the consequences of moral decay, environmental destruction, or other perceived threats.
2. Moral and Ethical Lessons:
These stories often carry moral and ethical lessons about human behavior. They may encourage individuals to lead righteous lives, respect nature, or avoid hubris.
3. Cultural Identity and Continuity:
Apocalyptic narratives contribute to a culture's identity by providing a shared story that explains the past and envisions the future. They often affirm cultural values and reinforce a sense of continuity.
4. Influence on Art and Media:
Apocalyptic themes have influenced art, literature, film, and other forms of media across the world. These stories continue to inspire creators, providing a rich source of material for exploration and reinterpretation.
In conclusion, apocalyptic narratives across different mythologies, cultures, and folklore offer valuable insights into human nature and societal concerns. While these stories may differ in their specifics, they share common themes of destruction, judgment, and rebirth. They continue to resonate with modern audiences, reflecting ongoing fears and hopes about the future of humanity.
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charliejaneanders · 4 months
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Random writing thought: the best stories are often the ones that only you could have written — but also the ones that you could only write at this one moment.
I couldn't write All the Birds in the Sky from scratch now if I tried. But the me of 2013 couldn't have written The Prodigal Mother either.
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shepardsherd · 3 months
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When your characters just start revealing lore you didn't know about them, as you're writing them
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emeryleewho · 1 year
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I used to work for a trade book reviewer where I got paid to review people's books, and one of the rules of that review company is one that I think is just super useful to media analysis as a whole, and that is, we were told never to critique media for what it didn't do but only for what it did.
So, for instance, I couldn't say "this book didn't give its characters strong agency or goals". I instead had to say, "the characters in this book acted in ways that often felt misaligned with their characterization as if they were being pulled by the plot."
I think this is really important because a lot of "critiques" people give, if subverted to address what the book does instead of what it doesn't do, actually read pretty nonsensical. For instance, "none of the characters were unique" becomes "all of the characters read like other characters that exist in other media", which like... okay? That's not really a critique. It's just how fiction works. Or "none of the characters were likeable" becomes "all of the characters, at some point or another, did things that I found disagreeable or annoying" which is literally how every book works?
It also keeps you from holding a book to a standard it never sought to meet. "The world building in this book simply wasn't complex enough" becomes "The world building in this book was very simple", which, yes, good, that can actually be a good thing. Many books aspire to this. It's not actually a negative critique. Or "The stakes weren't very high and the climax didn't really offer any major plot twists or turns" becomes "The stakes were low and and the ending was quite predictable", which, if this is a cute romcom is exactly what I'm looking for.
Not to mention, I think this really helps to deconstruct a lot of the biases we carry into fiction. Characters not having strong agency isn't inherently bad. Characters who react to their surroundings can make a good story, so saying "the characters didn't have enough agency" is kind of weak, but when you flip it to say "the characters acted misaligned from their characterization" we can now see that the *real* problem here isn't that they lacked agency but that this lack of agency is inconsistent with the type of character that they are. a character this strong-willed *should* have more agency even if a weak-willed character might not.
So it's just a really simple way of framing the way I critique books that I think has really helped to show the difference between "this book is bad" and "this book didn't meet my personal preferences", but also, as someone talking about books, I think it helps give other people a clearer idea of what the book actually looks like so they can decide for themselves if it's worth their time.
Update: This is literally just a thought exercise to help you be more intentional with how you critique media. I'm not enforcing this as some divine rule that must be followed any time you have an opinion on fiction, and I'm definitely not saying that you have to structure every single sentence in a review to contain zero negative phrases. I'm just saying that I repurposed a rule we had at that specific reviewer to be a helpful tool to check myself when writing critiques now. If you don't want to use the tool, literally no one (especially not me) can or wants to force you to use it. As with all advice, it is a totally reasonable and normal thing to not have use for every piece of it that exists from random strangers on the internet. Use it to whatever extent it helps you or not at all.
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selenekallanwriter · 25 days
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Person: What's your book about?
Writers:
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I'm both somehow 🙃
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xisadorapurlowx · 5 months
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I'm sick of people, including me, acting like writing has to be some serious borderline chore-like thing
Have fun with your life, write that completely self indulgent thing. Make Pinterest boards, and playlists. Create mood board of things your character do or dress. Trauma dump in your notebook, I don't care what you do. Be free children. Be freeee
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moonshinemagpie · 11 months
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There are little romance subplots all around me irl and I don't have the time to turn any of them into novels
Today I went to my favorite Italian restaurant and was seated at the table nearest the kitchen. We noticed a change to the menu. The list of pastas had been replaced by just "pasta of the day." We asked what the pasta of the day was. The waiter told us it was a mystery. So we ordered it, and when it came it was pasta with eggs and bacon, and I was so surprised and delighted by this unexpected whimsy that I started to clap. And then I noticed the chef watching me from the doorway and smiling. He had clearly come out wanting to see what people's reactions would be.
I'm not saying I love the chef or that the chef loves me. I am saying that is a seed with which to grow a romance that I don't have time to write.
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jgmartin · 10 months
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me, after clearing my schedule to write:
uhhhh it was raining... and dark (and also night) and um... cold i guess?? anyway, something dramatic~ happened
me, stuck in traffic on my way to work:
Rain tumbled through midnight leaves, casting the forest in liquid moonlight. A low growl shook the horizon. Death had come.
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dice-wizard · 7 months
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Okay writers listen up
I'm gonna tell you about how I wrangled my shitbird brain into being a terrifying word-churning engine and have written over 170K words in under a year.
I wanna be clear that before unlocking this Secret Technique I was a victim of my unmedicated ADHD, able to start but never finish, able to ideate but not commit and I truly and firmly believed that I'd never write a novel and such a thing was simply outside of my reach.
Now I write (and read!!) every day. Every. Single. Day. Like some kind of scriptorial One Punch Man.
Step the First
Remove friction between yourself and writing.
I personally figured out how to comfortably write on my phone which meant I didn't have to struggle with the insurmountable task of opening my laptop.
I don't care if this means you write in a Discord server you set up for yourself, but fucking do it. Literally whatever makes you write!
(if you do write somewhere that isn't a word processor PLEASE back your work up regularly!)
Step the Second
Make that shit a habit. Write every day.
For me, I allow myself the grace that ANY progress on writing counts. One sentence? Legal. Five thousand furious hyperfixated words? Also legal.
Every day, make progress. Any progress.
I deleted Twitter from my phone and did my best to replace doomscrolling with writing. If I caught myself idly scrolling I'd close whatever I was looking at and open my draft and write one (1) sentence until I made THAT a habit, too.
Step Two-point-Five
DO NOT REWRITE. If you are creating a first draft, don't back up or restart. Continous forward motion. Second drafts and editors exist. Firsts are for ripping the fucking thing out of your brain.
If you're working on revisions after an editor or beta readers or whoever has given you feedback, then you can rewrite that's OK (and it counts as your writing for the day!)
Step the Third
Now that you've found a comfortable way to write and are doing it every day, don't stop. Keep doing it. Remember, just one sentence is all you need. You can always do more, but if one lousy sentence is all you can manage then you're still successfully writing.
Remember: this is what worked for me. Try things until you find what works for you.
You can do it. I believe in you.
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