THANK YOU OMG AMBER AND MARK FELT MORE AUTHENTIC AND INTERESTING, EVE AND MARK ARE CLICHÉ AND FORCED,

Creampie? Check. Spitplay? Check. Pathetically submissive man? Check. Mutual orgasm? Check. Cute office guy? Check. Pussy eating? Check. Squirting? Check. Pathetic jerk-off? Check. A taste of dacryphillia in the end?!??!! Check! This. This is peak. Best fanfic I've read by far, absolute literature, top tier writing, don't be so hard on yourself like I literally loved this so much.

‘below the mouth’ j. sunderland x fem reader

minors dni

cw: in the dark, shoe riding/humping, light oral fixation/spit play, slightly messy, james is depicted as a pervert, sub leaning james with him being dominant at times, obsessive(j.), mutual masturbation(?), squirting, breeding, james is in his mid to late thirties. reader uses she/her pronouns.

summary: james… your coworker. the man who seems so hardworking, headstrong and devoted to his work… is nothing but a pervert enticed with the very being that you are… he can’t help but to see you as art— a canvas to paint on… as if his hands were paint… and his fingertips as the bristles, sketching out his greed with his lips and his words.

a/n: more porn than plot, forgive me. not too fond of this one and kept eyeing it over and over over and ended up truly hating this… nonetheless i hope you find some enjoyment in this one. i did not proofread…

oh james… what ever shall he do?

poor thing, constantly wrapped up in his own mind… unable to tame the growing thoughts that mutated within him. being lonely does things to a person… the years of suppression only made his longing for intimacy fester in the darkness of his greed.

in the beginning… it had been alright— good with his composure, carrying a kind of elegance through his actions and words. he wore ‘respect’ like an honorable man— button down shirts, tucked nicely in his well ironed pants. every day he’d come in dapper, not one thing out of place. it would be impressive to notice his true desires when he hadn’t worn them out on his sleeves.

though now… it was a different story. there’s only so much he could take… seeing you in your work outfits every single day or hearing your voice… the song you sung that never failed to make him treasure your being and feel every vowel that spewed from your lips filter and sprawl all throughout his veins. james tried to keep his need low, always being so gentleman like— kind, thoughtful and charming, but his thickening puddle of lust seeped through in the growing void that rests in the center of his eyes… being far dirtier than what meets the eye, disgusting even.

it was cute once you picked up on it… or at least the extent of it— his shyness and ability to lose all self, unable to maintain professional eye contact or a flowing sentence without randomly clearing his throat. a man well into his thirties— one that was valued by your shared boss, exceeding work ethic, always saying ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘yes sir’, not blinking an eye to the rule’s code— felt the need to act so foolishly enticed when it came to you.

for him, the absence of touch— one that he never felt come from your hand — drove james into a constant state of lustrous want… it ate within his being like a hungered cannibal digging its fingers through every fiber of his flesh. it prodded and ripped in the center of his chest like a wolf's canines as he sat at his work desk, drained… lifeless… thinking about everything he wanted to do to you… or whatever you’d do to him.

the inside of his body grew hot at the thought of you— dry throat, racing heart, fumbling words… his eyes, lingering all over your body longer than they had the day before, trying to see how much he could get away with… letting every second store itself in his photographic memory.

infested with carnality, day and night. james’ mind couldnt escape his perverted thoughts; as if it was the horrid and angry deep sea, crashing against the softness of the hot sand, in need of something to fix prurience, and the heightening want to be underneath your skin.

it started off with a hello, you being new and him well within the company’s community by a decade or two. a sweet exchange of a firm gripped hand shake and small talk before you went on your way. upon his sight, he was already fond of the beauty you blossomed. he wasn’t able to stop himself from looking… and as time continued, each day you met with him, it caused him to be in his head.

whenever you agreed to go out with your coworkers to local bars and restaurants, he’d ask around, passively, wanting to know if you’d be there to join. any chance he’d get, he’d sit next to you or across from you, thinking that the lack of lighting would hide the fact that he sat there to study you— his gentle hazel eyes, staring with eagerness… tattooing you into the grooves of his brain. each time you all went out, it was as if he tried harder… or lost the ability to care if you noticed or not. catching his eyes… for the first few seconds he didn’t even realize your attention on him until you’d call out his name a few times or lean towards him, breasts spilling from your top.

he’d go home, all eager. undoing his tie and his belt, slamming his door shut and making his way towards his bed, muttering: “just this once…” to himself, staring down at his hardened dick after thinking about the way your breasts sat prettily in the top you wore.

with his eyes squeezed shut, his wrist rippled in fast motion with whitening knuckles. he’d call out your name. each whinier than the last… feeling the weight of your name kiss the head of his cock— irregular breathing, toes curling into the thick of his comforter— whines that turned into a chants. over and over again he moaned your name, not even lasting three minutes until he let himself go… ribbons of his hot cum falling down onto his chest.

shame filtered his body almost instantaneously, not understanding how he was able to let himself go just from a simple top you wore… he swore to himself that that would be the first and only time he’d ever do something like that— to rush into his house just to relieve the growing hard on that you, without much acknowledgment, gave him.

and for a few days, he hadn’t. it didn’t stop the stares or the way his cock jumped upon hearing your voice… he’d just fall back into the same perverted state, clutching onto the arm of his work chair while you talked to him about something he couldn’t even pay much attention to. he saw the outline of your body against your work outfit thinking about how you’d look if he ripped it off.

his breathing quickened as he tried to direct his gaze on something else, his computer… maybe his paperwork? it didn’t help because he could still hear you fucking speak.

a sharp gulp and a shaky sigh— it was the most obvious he’s ever been, sensing the way he was unable to sit still. “james?” you called out, amusement lingering in the tone of your voice.

“uhm.” he huffed, a faint smirk curling at the side of his lips, trying to keep his composure as much as he could. “sorry… im not feeling too well.” turning his head to you, seeing a warm, devious yet alluring smile rest on your lips. almost immediately, he reacted. swallowing hard and clearing his throat.

walking towards where the man sat, you placed your hand at his shoulder, feeling the softness of his suit glide against your palm, finding his averting eyes, “do you need me to… get you anything?”

he shook his head, flinching upon touch, dropping his attention into his lap where his hands bunched to cover the obvious dent. “it… it’s fine. i just have to use the restroom… excuse me.” his voice quick and slurred, body immediately jumping up from his chair as he made his way to the men’s bathroom.

the beat of his heart ran heavily in his ribcage, causing his body to burn and wither as he laid himself limply against the bathroom’s door. each inhale was harder to stabilize— the air feeling heavy and clunky as it lumped and fell down his throat. with the soft jingle of his belt, he pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees, “god…” he sighed, wrapping his hand around his cock— hot and tortured, “why do you… why do you turn me on so much?”

soft chokes and mutters fell in the echoing bathroom’s walls, covering his mouth creating muffled whimpers to exude and swell. his body churned and trembled, hearing the loose hinges of the door combat with his movement. “fuck… fuck…” he whined, his eyes traveling up to see the mirror across the way.

the sight of himself… it almost looked like his own reflection was a stranger. no person has ever made him have the need to run for a quick release… at least not from their voice alone. it was just how eager he was— how eager you made him— the look of his knees buckling, the pace of his pumps, the skin of his face shake and the way he desperately tried to keep himself quiet… he looked so pathetic to himself, never seeing that side or noticing how much you made him that way just from the sight of you.

in a way… it turned him on, getting a better picture of what you’d see if you were to stand in this very bathroom. thoughts grappled through his visionary mind, his vision shooting towards different places in the bathroom, looking at the sink: how pretty you’d look, pants down your legs with him fucking up into you, your own eyes in the mirror, watching yourself getting fucked by him. or in the stall: your fingers clutching harshly at the stall’s door with his fingers deeply plunging itself inside of your cavern.

a million and one things infiltrated his desires until he couldn’t find himself to stop even after the first time he came onto the bathroom’s floor. his wrist burned with the consistent motion, after his cock hadn’t let up its hardness, moaning as quietly as he could to have himself go limp.

thirty minutes he spent in there… and for him to be known to cum quick… it only meant that he rung himself dry. he couldn’t even walk straight— you knowingly understanding the weight of power you had over him after you timed his absence and him finally waddling back into his chair.

“you alright?” you laugh sweetly, being as oblivious as you could possibly be within his perspective, trying not to stare at the small wet spot that circled at his crotch.

“yeah…” his voice trembling, still in a daze from his multiple orgasms, “must’ve ate something funny…”

after that day… jerking off in the office’s bathroom, there was no turning back— as if that was the only reason that would’ve been true. there was no way he’d be able to contain the continuous passion that resonated all throughout his body— as if you talked to him through your idle.

days would pass and he’d show himself more and more obvious, losing the care to show off his usual persona. he’d take one of your handkerchiefs you left on your desk when you hadn’t been around, tucking them in his pockets only to inhale the left over scent that interwoven itself into its soft cloth, using it almost every night until all he could smell was his own scent. he’d hold onto your wrist when trying to grab your attention, clutching it until he felt the gentle pulse, syncing with the growing hard on he’d feel build and tighten at the crotch of his pants.

on random days, he’d listen when you spoke to other’s about the dates you’ve been on, hearing how they werent satisfying you— filling his brain with possible ways he’d make you feel good. taking you out to eat with good food and wine with an even better conversation only to have him balls deep inside of you just for you to remember nothing from anyone in your past and only form yourself at the outline of his cock.

on a sunny afternoon, you had a held a party for your birthday— all the coworkers you found as friends, including james— in your house for drinks, food and good music. you kept your eye on him as much as you could without making it obvious that the only reason for the party was to see how he’d react now being so close to you.

he showed nothing but nervousness, almost never leaving the cushions from your couch, not even drinking or eating for that matter. he looked uncomfortable… or maybe he was just deep in thought. it only took one look away for him to disappear, his lack of person and the indent of where he sat on the couch to be shown.

james decided he needed more… that handkerchief wasn’t enough since your scent was gone and his imaginations made his want physically hurt considering he wasn’t able to touch you like he wished he could.

finding his way to your room, he rummaged through your dirty laundry, finding a pair of black panties, keeping it to himself. in a cold sweat, he knew that he had time to spare, whipping his head back and forth from the cloth towards your bedroom door before he sat on your bed, rolling his thumb at the crotch of your underwear.

deep and staggered breaths, he rose it up to his nose, smelling the soiled cloth, noticing how these pair must’ve been worn during your arousal, his cock reacting like wildfire— choking at the lack of air he gave himself from the constant huffing he did. each inhale was like heaven. god… your pussy smelt so good… better than he could imagine. the muscle of his tongue sliding at the left over cream marks left, his moans staggering, almost in need of crying at how good this action made him feel.

placing the underwear in his mouth, he grabbed what was closest to him— your pillow— angling his body to get himself off. luckily with how loud the music had been outside, no one would be able to hear the brash creeks of your bed as he humped himself to oblivion. hips snapping, fingers curling into your bed’s unmade sheets with his face planted deep within them as he sniffed whatever your body’s scent leftover.

this is what he wanted… this is what he feened for. only orgasming once, he fixed your bed trying to replicate as if he had never been on it, tucking the panties… and one more in his pants pocket and walking out of your bedroom.

met with him, you smiled, noticing the lust that fumed off of his person, not making it seem as if you knew, “what’re you doing in there? the parties out there silly.” you laughed.

“yeah! i was just looking for the bathroom.” he gulped.

nodding, you ran your tongue over the bottom of your lip, eyeing how his hair wasn’t as neat as it had been before and his shirt wasn’t tucked in as it usually was. “it’s just down there.”

“thank you.” scattering down the hall.

upon entering your room, all you could smell was the foreign aroma of his arousal, smiling at how you didn’t even had to do anything to him physically let alone verbally and he got so worked up. riddled with temptation, you knew you had this man wrapped around your finger, obliging with his action and giving him more with your seductive nature.

it was more noticeable now— how you both operated whenever with each other. anyone could just sense it, feel it, cut it in the thickening air of their razor nails. the body languages, the way you both spoke, the way your eyes spoke with extreme intent.

the tingling sensation rose within your body, almost electrifying you whenever you heard your name being called by him— his natural rasp that croaked from his throat, huddling over your eardrums with bliss. you could only guess what he did that day when he bolted off into the bathroom. it was obvious. feeling your attraction grow by his attentiveness and the willingness of him trying so desperately to be beside you… just thinking about him got you so worked up.

it was fun witnessing his obvious need to separate himself just to get off… but the poor boy needed solace you thought to yourself.

he was being such a good boy, trying so hard not to put himself onto you, being respectful enough, kind and excusing himself but you decided to take charge— have him finally able to get what he wanted and what you were curious about.

one night, you took that advantage as everyone else had dispersed from the office, it had only been you two, him hunched in his chair, face glowing from his computer screen and you packing all of your work to go home. he usually stayed overtime, having his own set of keys the boss left because of his repetitive stay.

now you stood within his space, the office dark, a low hum coming from james not even noticing your silhouette that stood just at his cubicle. “you going home?” you spoke out, your voice lulling out.

startled, he turned at his chair, swallowing down the large lump that rested at his throat. “oh!” he chirped, looking back and forth at the shadow that made up of you and his computer screen. “uh not yet… there’s some things i have to finish.”

“could it wait? just for a little?”

furrowing his eyebrows, he sat confused, noticing the tone of your voice, feeling his palms dampen, rubbing them roughly at his pant legs.

oh how cute he was acting.

“sorry i..” he chuckled nervously, “im confused.”

sucking at your tongue, you stepped forward, the screen’s light falling at your outline, exposing the lust that mixed in with the devious expression that wore on your face. “don’t give me that look,” you cooed, closing the distance between you both until your feet planted themselves just before him. “tell me, what has you still in this office this late at night?”

“uhm yeah…” he chuckled again, his words slow as he spoke about the finishing touches of a project that had been due in a few days. quite honestly, you hadn’t cared much to know, you just enjoyed the random inhales of breath in between his words as he tried to keep his composure at bay.

“such a good man you are. i take it your work ethic is better than all of us combined?”

he cleared his throat, tilting his head in nervousness at the choice of words that trickled down, aiming at his spine with him tensing in his chair. “th… thank you.”

“but you should take a break, you seem all pent up. that isn’t healthy, don’t you think?”

“what do you purpose?” he asked with you humming in response.

the silence between that fell in the air was loud, burning against your eardrums until you heard his breathing coming in shallow wheezes, his chest tightening as his heart hammered at his ribcage. he couldn’t even look at you… his head couldn’t lift itself from his hands, fingers tangling with themselves.

“can you look at me?” you soothed.

no response was given, just the raise of his body at every heavy inhale.

“look at me james…” your voice now coming out as a whisper, using your hand to curl at his jaw, feeling the roughness of the stubble that ran alongside it. at a gentle lift, his face rose, his eyes staggering to follow until you saw the gentle, puppy-eyed man lock himself onto you. “that’s it..”

at the tilt of his head, his body hiccuped in a trickling gasp. every memory of him being by himself, jerking his hardening cock, the sounds of his own pleasuring cries echoed in his brain. it burned at his cheeks with a peach strain— embarrassed but enamored by the sway of your lulling voice and kind eyes. the cold that emitted from your hand felt like static, almost foreign, unable to comprehend that you where here, actually touching him and it wasn’t just his perverted mind conjuring up a scene of you having your way with him.

just by your simple touch, it felt raw and ravenous—body stiffening like tainted brittle bones… his spine slowly contorting in a fidgeting arch, like christ himself pressed his jellied pierced palms across the flesh of an aching wound. “fuck…” he breathed, giving up on his lose of current reality, placing his own hand on top of yours, sliding it more onto his own face. he buried himself in it, eyes closing, falling into a blissful state, feeling the warmth that blossomed and coddled at his skin.

his mind and his body was starved… in need of you as if the only sin he knew was nothing but greed— believing the palms of your hands was magic, a bandage to a scab, an antidote to a sickness. you did nothing but stand there, watching him revel in pleasure just from your hand now stroking his face slowly and delicately, admiring the sweet yet sorrowful pout drawn at his lips.

“follow my words.” you spoke, interrupting the silence between you both, “can you do that for me james?”

his eyes dilated, feeling his stomach drop hearing his name being called. it drove him mad and it only was because of your voice— so gentle and sweet, thick as if he could gnaw on it. “yes…” he finally answered.

standing behind him, you let the pressure of your hands massage his back, feeling the tension reside in his shoulders. you could feel his irregular breathing at every push your fingers gave, knuckles whitening at the clutch of his pant legs. “oh wow you’re so tense… why is that?”

“just… all the work is getting to me.”

“yeah?” your voice obvious in sensuality, hearing his grunt when you let the pressure fall a little rougher. a quiet exchange of noises bounced back and forth with comforting and pent up sighs, spending a good few minutes, trailing your hands down the sides of his arms, “you’re pretty built underneath this suit.” you teased.

clenching his eyes tight, he screamed at himself internally, trying to speak to his cock to not harden but it failed, looking down at his lap and seeing what the computer’s light was able to show, letting out a quiet laughing hum. you had him now…

“stand… and kiss me.”

and so he stood, his arms awkwardly at his sides, broadcasting his awful posture as he waited for your next move. from a simple swift movement, your hand met with the back of his neck, pulling him in, pressing your lips against his. the sync of your lips were soft and slow but quickly it changed by the lead of his tongue that cascaded along the bottom of yours, inhaling the hitching breath as his fingers played with the bottom of his suit jacket.

gentle grunts hummed against your flesh, opening your lips to oblige by his speed, noting the way he drank your existence in the exchange of your mouths. his tongue fluttered against yours, rolling the tip of his muscle against the ridges of your teeth, spit spilling down one another’s chins as your bodies fell closer into one another feeling the pattern of your breathing fall as one.

your leg pressed in the middle of his, feeling his bulge rub against you with a higher pitched moan being a gift of your sudden embrace.

the air was hot and heavy despite the chill from the office that hugged you both, "ride it.." you moaned in between the kiss, moving your leg in slow grinds, feeling the heat that emitted from his clothed cock weave through your work pants.

“okay…” he answered back, removing himself from the kiss as his hips started to buck forward in motion with your leg’s movement.

his body couldn’t keep up with the burning passion that continued to spread through his body, starting with the aching sensation that rested at his cock.

no words had been exchanged, only moans as if it that was the only language you both understood— the lack of light only being laminated by the moon that fell through the windows and the computer screen. your hand strengthened its grip, foreheads pressed against one another, feeling his leg fall in between your leg in the midst of his grinds.

both of you fell in lust with the eager grinds you shared, hearing the rut of clothes being rubbed against one another, his unknowing hands, placing its purpose at your hips, gripping incredibly tight, pulling you closer at every hungered thrust, your eyes gulping the color of his.

he moved his body, you whining quietly at the empty feeling of his knee. he dropped down, leveling his face at your legs, pressing kisses starting at your ankle and to your knee, moving his lips as his tongue peaked through, letting spit form and absorb in the cloth of your pants until he reached your waist.

"may i...?” he whimpered, a smile curling at your lips, nodding with his fingers making its way to your shirt, yanking it upwards which made you gasp at the sudden movement. he continued his kiss, the cold inhale of his breath washing against your skin as he pressed his lips at the lining of your peaking underwear, running his tongue alongside it.

with a deep press of his lips, he left wet marks, pressing his face into your stomach, his head dragging all the way up your torso, inhaling the sweet smell of your detergent as well as the soap that coated your skin, until he stood once again, finding your neck, taking a bite without much warning— feeling the flesh sink between the spaces in his teeth. 'so soft', he thought, letting his lips latch and suck roughly, as he used his unoccupied hand to pull your body closer to him.

his tongue rippled and rolled against the aching bitten part of your neck, popping himself off before he pressed a kiss at the hem of your ear, "is this real?" he whispered, pressing more kisses at the side of your face. it felt prosperous, feeling his lips scatter the smooth surface of your face, neck and ear— fingers prodding the side of your waist.

"can you say it… please?” releasing a sharp gasped whisper, his nose dragging along your cheek, sighing out a moan. "say…my name... i need to hear your voice.”

"james..." you exhaled, enjoying the way he wanted nothing but your time and your attention. he made you feel sexy.. desirable, like his own drug that he was unable to let go or take control of. every touch felt purposeful, hungry… soft with a strain of roughness.

"no... louder. say it... please say it louder." his words breathless, cracking each time his voice dipped in register, letting open mouthed kisses to gently press onto your skin.

"james!" your voice rose, saying it over and over at every press of his lips you felt, his moans talking back to each time he heard his name flutter from your throat. your voice felt like it was running down his spine and settling itself right at his cock. you adored how cute he was without even knowing that you wanted to devour him— the sharp want to have him crumble in your embrace.

“fuck..” he cried sweetly, his voice breaking down in harmony. you placed your hands at his shoulders pushing him down as he obeyed your forceful action, him now on his knees.

without a thought, you pressed the bottom of your shoe at his obvious bulge, pressing your weight on it, his body shuddering with his lips ajar. “tell me…” your diction sounding breathless, feeling the outline of him through the sole of your shoe, “do you think of me… while you touch yourself.” his eyes growing, surprised and slightly worried— not as if it wasn’t telling he came at the thought of you.

he couldn’t answer, only giving a harsh swallow and swiveling hips, humping into the sole of your shoe.

“come on pretty boy… answer… i know you do it.”

“yes…” he gulped, “i do… i do. all the fucking time.” he admitted, his words flowing fast with his hips coming at the same speed.

placing your foot down on the floor, he immediately straddled, hands grabbing onto your calf for support as his hips rippled and rutted deeply into you like a horned dog. whimpers roared through the office’s enclosure. he felt dizzy, drunk within the lust that spewed between you both. it was pitiful but cute— losing all forms of self just to hump on your shoe.

grasping his jaw, he looked up at you, eyebrows knitted in pleasure as his hair bounced in movement, leaning down the gather spit, letting it fall into his opened mouth. he drank it instantaneously, nodding at the new action he had never done before. your spit tasted sweet, filling his mouth with an extended tongue in need of more.

and so you did, this time more forceful, some falling at the side of his lip, falling down his jaw and chin.

something about how he acted, the way he presented himself and the way his nervousness wore him so brightly. you could hear it his voice, in his moans, see in his eyes, face and body— nothing he had in display for you showed you otherwise. cupping the side of his face as your thumb gently stroked the warmth of his cheek, making his cock jump more than it already had.

“you like that don’t you baby?”

“uh huh…” he breathed, frantically nodding, letting his eyes drape towards your lips, seeing his tongue peak through, pressing your thumb at his plush lips, dragging them loosely, until his lips would tug, allowing his teeth to peak through before leaning in closer to his until being inches apart— irregular breathing brush against your mouth, as his nose nudges gently the side of yours, kissing you roughly… wet and raw. more spit escaping, coating all over.

“can i…” he spoke in between, “can i taste you?”

and with an accepting moan, his body rose, grabbing you until you sat on his desk, the light of his computer now black and the moon being the only source of light.

opening your legs, he leaned in, his middle finger ran between your clothed, wet slit. raising his head, he looked down at you, “holy fuck… how’re you so wet? i can feel it through your pants,” he taunted, gaining a small glint of confidence.

he lifted your shirt once more, just enough to show your full stomach as he held onto your waist, pressing his lips right beneath your breast, leaving slow, teasing kisses down your body with his eyes staring right up at you. his face met up in between, spreading your thighs apart more as he let his face set right in center, pressing his nose right in the indention where his finger once was, inhaling your sweet smell before rolling his tongue over her clothed pussy. “your pussy smells so sweet.” he breathed, his fingers curling at your pants and yanking them down until you were only left with them puddled at your feet and panties hugging your waist.

his mouth latched onto your clit, slowly sucking you right over your panties, feeling your throbbing bud feather against his tongue.

sliding your panties to the side, he saw the wetness connect from your pussy lips, to your clit, running all down your slit, immediately spreading your lips apart, seeing your whole view.

“so… pretty... god i wanna fuck it with my tongue. have my tongue so deep inside you, i can feel you clench yourself. can i… can i do that?” his eyes not leaving your face, seeing the limited and minimal expression the moon’s light allowed him to see, letting his tongue run up your slit as his mouth latches on.

nothing felt more pleasurable than to see the other pleased. his fingers trembled and ached to take you all in one go, but he believed you deserved more than that, you deserved to feel it run through every inch of your body. he wanted to prove that there’s levels you could reach that’ll make you feel like ecstasy.

his body burned as if he was on fire, feeling himself twitch at every small sound that exuded from your throat. “your voice, it turns me on so fucking much...” gripping onto your thighs, his nose nudging at your clit, mouth hovering over your cunt, drawing ribbons at the entrance of your pussy. he shook his head from side to side, your sweet scent filling his airway as he felt your slick coat the sides of his lips and the tip of his nose.

his tongue plunging itself into you, feeling your cunt pulsate alongside the bud of your clit. as his tongue worked along your slit and hole, repeatedly lapping at each entrance with the flat of their tongue. your scent and flavor enveloping his entire face, like a drug, and erotic perfume that he’d gladly wear if possible. his eyes drooping into a squint, his body loosening— expect the core of his tightening abdomen from holding his breath and their increasingly hard cock. thrusting his face as he began to fuck you with his tongue, hollowing his cheeks, continuing to pay close attention to your clit. pulling back, he licked his lips, gathering spit as he spat right on your cunt, followed by a little slap, rubbing with the palm of his hand against the new tingling sensation, “was that… was that too much?” he slurred, not thinking of the impact of what he had just done with the pleasured yelp you let out.

“you’re such a dirty boy…” you laughed, your hips breaking down as it planted itself more into his desk. “keep going… show me what a horny little thing like you thinks about while you touch yourself.”

drunk of you— the taste, the smell, he could feel a pit of sensation fuel right at the bottom of his abdomen. “hump my face baby, please…use me.”

with his tongue, he lifted your clitoral hood, centering his tongue right at your clit as he fluttered it as fast as his tongue allowed him too, feeling your expose bud jolt. using his other hand, he slid one finger in, curling it slightly as he slowly let it slide in and out, feeling your walls close. the sounds you let out couldn’t be controlled, admiring how he used your body like an art piece, finding his way to use every fragment of your being, getting off to your pleasure. each knuckle falling deeper, as he started to bring up his pace. so wet, you could hear it at each pump, and god did that turn him on. “listen to your pussy baby. my god you’re so wet..”

loving the feeling of your fingers that now laced in his hair, tugging at it whenever you felt so, feeling the tingle wash from down his scalp and spine, making him groan deeply against your, feeling it almost itch his own throat. his other hand pressing firmly against your stomach, rolling it up your body as he dragged the pads of his fingers down your torso, then thigh, letting them create small indentions in your smooth skin.

he watched as you squirmed as you watched how pathetically invested he looked hooked in pleasure— him yearning for this type of attention, as if he cried for it. his eyes begged and begged, his actions looking less and less sense and out of touch of reality. your hips, not having a rhythmic move to them, just rolling and humping as his face kept up with your sloppy hips.

he slide one more finger inside, curling that one as well as his others as he turned his wrist in a circular motion, almost drilling your cunt, pushing it in and out, trying to find your sweet spot. he lifted his head, letting a string of spit and slick connect from his lips and your pussy. “keep looking at me… please don’t stop.” the sting burning at his forearm— veins now prominent running from his fingers and down wrist. your pussy making the most loudest and obnoxious noise, syncing with the pacing of his hand and mouth.

his face traveled up, his face now hovering yours, paying close attention to your expression and the way you moaned for him, furrowing his eyebrows, “yeah? does it feel good right there?” he cooed, singing with your moans which filled the space that surrounded you both. he gathered spit in his mouth once more, letting it go straight into your mouth— your hand out of his hair and to his face, holding his jaw and feeling the grooves of his teeth by how hard you held it.

“god you’re so good for me.” you grunted, eyes almost rolling at the feeling of his fingers plunging at your cunt.

gritting through his teeth, “and you drive me insane…” pressing his mouth against yours once more as he started to sloppily kiss you— your slick already coating his mouth and tip of his nose, now swallowing your moans. his breathing was erratic and his demeanor changed, feeling a sense of lustful malice grow in his body.

hurriedly, you undid his pants, slipping your hand in his underwear, taking out his hot heavy cock, his body immediately reacting with his hand holding the desk beside you for support. without hesitation, you jerked his cock, finding the same speed of his plunging fingers.

shared and eager moans radiated from you both, whiny and pathetic, desperate and conjoined— the sweet sounds of your wet slick and his skin being tugged at his cock.

“don’t stop.” he strained, already feeling himself in need to release, never being one to last longer than he wished to.

spit dripping from one another’s mouths, the tension continued to rise, the familiar sensation cradling at your core as well as his. clenching around his fingers, your thighs started to close themselves, him quickly opening them as he breathed in a choked gasp.

“are you gonna cum for me?” you teased, knowing you were right where he was, his body twitching as he nodded in response, “cum for me… do it james.”

a loud groan crept as he removed your hand, replacing it with his as he jerked his cock in a speed you had never seen from another man, directing his slit right at your clit. spurts of his cum fell right at your clit, the sight being too much for you to handle— the head from it, sliding down to his fingers as he continued his hungered pumps, an orgasm ringing around it. it creamed thickly, white cuddling at his knuckles.

both of your bodies fell weak, the speed now resting slow as you tried to gather your breaths, eyes connecting as one as you recollected all the passion that infiltrated.

“my god…” you breathed, his fingers coating in your natural nectar and his cum, inhaling your womanly scent which sent waves of pleasure directly towards his cock that started to rise again. god… did he love the way your fucking pussy smelt. it didn’t compare to your handkerchief… your bed… even your used panties. his fingers slipping out as he placed them in his mouth, each finger being sucked clean. “you’re so fucking hot…”

the intensity that fueled you both was too much to comprehend. no words being able to be spoken— james blinded by the beauty and the smell of sex that fumed in the air. after all the days of him tugging his cock, the thoughts became real.

his face hovered yours, hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed gentle kisses across your lips, “can i...” he gasped in between each kiss, heavy air pushing through his nostrils as he tried desperately not to pass out from the adrenaline and the need to feel you, overwhelm you and just make you cum from his dick. “can i fuck you…? please… please… please please please please please…” his voice cracking in between.

the need that laced in your whine transmitted through the thick of his burning skin. it was hard to contain steady breathing. mine, he thought. you were all his for the night, and it signified that you were in this very moment.

lips feathering against your chin, each kiss longer than the last, with his nose nudging up into your cheek. just from the quiet sounds you let out, your consent, your ‘okay’ to put his dick inside of you made the way he felt more intense than it already had. his fingers wrapping around the start of his shaft as he started to pump himself.

“you can tell me if you want me to fuck you slow…” he continued, cupping his hand to his lips and spitting in it, making a small puddle to coat his dick. “or if you want me to fuck you fast… tell me… tell me to keep fucking you… tell me… just talk for me… please.”

his eyes jolted down as his cock angled itself right at your opening pushing himself inside. just half of what would be his tip, focused only on you. sucking in harshly at how big he was and how he wasn’t even all the way in. with his other hand cupping the side of your face and neck, his thumb rubbing gently.

“you okay baby…?” his attention still on you, analyzing each expression you gave to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you in any shape or form, pressing a long kiss at the side of your cheek beside your ear, “im going to keep going okay…? just breathe for me…”

they pushed more, his tip fully being in your cunt. his body shuttered… you were so warm, you were tight and held him so comfortably, if you wanted him to stop right there, it’d be enough for him to cum. anything for you was enough for him. bodies slowly enveloping on another as he tried to talk to your body in a way that gave you comfort and pleasure. “more?” he breathed, it hitching as he mindlessly held his breath, pushing more of himself into you— your hot walls holding around the start of his shaft, textured and wet, with a heartbeat that almost felt as if you were sucking him in without his go.

a pornographic moan being spewed from james’ lips. the way your cunt grasped onto him, it's textured walls massaging his cock into heaven. you felt full, his dick thick— leaning towards girth— your breathing picking up in pace. you molded his cock perfectly, his hips slowly pressing himself deeper until his hole cock was enveloped in you. "goo...good boy." you tried to praise, hiccuping as your hands fell onto his shoulders.

the thrust started off slow, hiccuping almost similar to his rut against your shoe. it took a few thrusts until he finally was able to find himself— barely. each inward thrust, the desk shook, your body sliding upwards against his paperwork that scattered and crumpled.

“is this… is this okay?” his voice broken, hearing the new diction in his tone.

“faster… don’t be shy…”

you didn’t have to tell him twice, his hips momentarily stopping as he planted his feet firmly on the ground— animalistic groans combating the way his hips started to snap. each thrust, your rear puckering hole was abused by james’ balls. again and again, the loud rhythmic sound of your skin slapping. "good boy, keep fucking me. make me cum."

the tip of his dick angling in a place you were unsure about. what was this? you thought. your body was excited and you didn't know why— you didn't know how to prepare yourself. your body unable to stay still or find a place where you felt the best in stabilization, screaming his name as he finally hit that spot, your good spot.

"don't stop! don't stop! don't stop! don't—" you chanted, him hitting your g spot over and over with your pussy sucking him in deeper and deeper at each outward thrust.

"i wish i fucked you sooner, why does this feel so good?!" already having the need to cum with no intention of holding it.

you as well. you needed to cum, but you felt something new as well. the similarly feeling of you needed to 'go'.

"waitwaitwaitwait!!!" you moaned out loud, his cock slipping out with an unexpected gift being brought to both of you. you squirted. it spilling from your cunt and drenching on the both of you— your face, his work clothes and your work clothes. you had no time to react, your legs violently shook, with james hurriedly slipping in again with the same need to release centering at the opening of your cunt.

"ineeedto... i... fuhhhcking" you slurred, eyes rolling each time james pulled out, your pussy let out small spurts of your squirting cum.

"that is so fucking hot... you're so hot." james cried, tears rimming in his eyes, feeling himself having the need to cum.

one leg wrapped his waist pushing him down, rolling your hips upward even though it was all too much, but your cunt wanted more, it felt like it could cum at least one more time. grabbing your face, your lips forming a squished 'o'.

"fuck...fucking good boy." your voice fucked out.

"it feels too good… i can’t take it." he continued to wail, tears started to stream down his face. "im gonna—" he announced with one finally thrust, james let his hot load rest deep inside you.

one could say his dream was now complete, but a new question shall be asked; how will this continue? from being ‘friends’, horny individuals to fuck at work. but for now, you both continued to calm down from your high, kissing each other sweetly.

“this won’t be the last time.” you smiled triumphantly, trying to catch your breath.

a/n: i never know how to end these… but maybe there will be another part…

NSFW TMI but like..... the duality between wanting to dominate someone and wanting to be dominated is crazy.

I'm pansexual, and on the rare occassions I fantasize about women or femme ppl (only rare due to internalized homophobia and shame yippee) I often fantasize about being dominated.

But with men and masculine ppl, it's something of a 50/50. A vast majority of my fantasies with them involve them being submissive.

And I think I got a pretty good idea as to why.

Since we live in a society where men are seen as the leaders and masculinity is ideal, it's only natural of me to want to rebel against it and invert the roles. If we lived in a society where women are the ones who always have things in their favor or femininity was seen as the default, I'd probably want them to be submissive.

Which, btw, mini-rant but I FUCKING HATE THE FEMDOM PORN I SEE. Well, I have a love-hate relationship with porn in general. Sometimes I wonder how I would've turned out if I never saw porn.

Anyway, it's just something I noticed. But in dom porn, the female sub is always being used as an outlet for the male's pleasure. In femdom porn, however, the domme is giving the male sub pleasure. It always comes down to male gaze and focusing on a man's pleasure. So even femdom isn't exactly "empowering" or whatever we call it. While I'm at it, I hate lesbian porn. For obvious reasons. It's never for lesbians or wlw people. Like, at all. Gay porn caters to men, and so does lesbian porn. Got me digging in the trenches for a decent sapphic porn audio, let alone an actual video!

I completely forgot wtf I was yapping abt. The ADHD is showing.

AI "art" isn't real art. I don't care if it's AI generated fanfiction, AI generated songs, AI generated paintings, I DON'T FUCKING CARE! IT WILL NEVER BE ART. IT'S MEANINGLESS. UTTERLY MEANINGLESS. AI ARTISTS? FUCK YOU, YALL AIN'T ARTISTS.

ai does not belong in creative spaces. period.

SEE, YOU GET IT, OMG, WE NEED TO BE FRIENDS CUZ THIS MAN LIKE THIS MAN I JUST SHSNSN

Rescue Bots Graham Burns

Propaganda below the cut

Need him.

This game is such bullshit. I should be the one choking James.

🟥 🟥 🟥

🟥 🟥 🟥

🟥 🟥 🟥

NOT THE LIGHT YAGAMI GIF, THE FACT THAT I WAS SUCH A SIMP FOR HIM WHEN I WAS 15. OMFG. AND NOT THE ASTERISKS AND TEXT STUTTER PISS OFF GOOFY!😭🫶

"You Keep Your Eyes on Me"

Tag: @gongyoosgf and @cybrasigilism

Salesman x G/N!Reader

18+ Smut, MDNI

Summary: Just a typical Friday night, playing some games with your favorite Salesman...

⚠️Tags/Warnings: Jump straight into action (no buildup), Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, G/N masturbation, Gunplay, filming, bone gag/gagging, edging, denial, praise, dick tapping, dacryphillia, degradation, pet names (doll, baby, puppy), a hint of petplay??? genital slapping (kept vague for G/N), sex toys/hitachi wand, spreader bar mentioned, handcuffs, mutual masturbation (Salesman is jerking it to the sight of you), mutual orgasm, cumshot, aftercare, the Salesman may be catching feelings🤔

Your eyes lazily gaze into the mirror, that soft red light shining back at you as you bit down on the silicone bone even harder. The cool, metal rings bounded by the leather straps leaving its imprints on your cheek. You shake the bar that parter your ankles, keeping your thighs wide open for him.

He is looming over you, with that typical smug smile of his. He extends the pole with the wand attached to it, before pressing it against your swollen sex. You shake violently, feeling the vibrations build up to your release until---

"Ohhh... not so fast. Patience." The Salesman says, pulling the pole away and massaging your shoulder. You growl through the gag and glare at him through the mirror. He cocks an eyebrow and says, "Slow and steady wins the race. Calm down, doll." That smile creeping into his voice before he sighs and settles between your thighs.

You watch with dilated pupils, the chains linking the leather cuffs rattling when you try to reach out and touch him. He steps back and waves the tip of his handgun as he says softly, "Ah, ah, ahh! No touching."

You let out a whine, making him chuckle before stepping closer once again. The room echoes with the jingle of his belt, before he springs out. His tip glistened in the shade of the pink tint the room provided. His precum dripping onto your stomach. He strokes himself slowly, teasing you with every stiff pump his fist made before lining himself up.... only to lightly slap his cock against your tender skin. You moan, resulting in his laughter slipping out of his lips before he pulls back once again...

When he steps to his spot, behind your back, he places his hands on your shoulders and begins to lightly rub them. You tense up at the sudden feeling of his firm, calloused hands gliding against your hot skin, but he hushes you and whispers in your ear, "Go on, doll, touch yourself. Do it for me to watch. Put on a show that I can watch now.... and forever..."

You both shift your gaze to the recorder that was propped onto a stand, facing the mirror. The piercing red light blinked and blended in with the lights that dangled from the ceiling. You knew he was recording, you both agreed to do so. But still... to think he'd be watching this later...

You look up at him, feeling a little self-conscious. The reality of your fantasy was finally settling in... you are being filmed for his pleasure, all while he plans to watch you perform. It seems as though he caught on, and he massages your shoulders more while he speaks softly, "Baby, it's just us. No one will see the video except me, and yourself, if you want to watch. If you want it to stop, then you can shake your handcuffs 3 times, and I'll stop everything. The recording, the scene, everything. Alright? This is just a game. But you always have the option to pause or quit."

You nod, feeling relieved by his reassurance of the safe signal you two settled upon prior to the scene. You go to reach for the wand, when the Salesman pulls it away and says, "I have a different idea for this round. Something challenging, but fun nonetheless. How about, you use your fingers to touch yourself, and you use my gun to get off?"

His hands graze your shoulder, before trailing down your arms only to stop at your nipples. He rubs the buds in circular motions before saying, "And don't worry about a thing. It's completely unloaded." He then takes out the revolver and spins the barrels in front of your eyes.

"See?" He asks, and sure enough, the barrel was completely empty. He circulates his rough fingers around your areola and flicks your nipples, feeling them firm up as an airy moan slips out from his lips. He presses up against your shoulder, his cock becoming more apparent in your face. He tears a package from his pocket and rolls on the rubber onto the gun. He grins and says playfully, "A condom on a gun. That's definitely something new! Huh?"

He hands you his gun, and waits patiently, the smile still plastered on his face. You hold the weapon, feeling it's cold hard weight against the palm of your hand that juxtaposed the warm, soft, slippery rubber that had been applied onto it. Carefully, you guided the gun between your thighs, brushing against your skin while the handle caused your handcuffs to clatter and jingle against each other. You fumbles with it, steel slapping steel, yet your skin wasn't slapping against his.

The Salesman sees this, and smiles. His fist slowly stroking himself at the sight of you struggling to simply insert the gun. He chuckles, and moans in satisfaction at your issue. He looks at you through the reflective glass and says, "Are you struggling, doll? Can't even do something as simple as this?" He grabs the gun from you and continues, "It's okay, I was expecting that. Allow me to do all of the work. You just sit there and look pretty."

You watch with wide eyes as he drags the cool steel against your skin. Your thighs flinch, but his hand pins one down, forcing you open. The veins on his hand pulse when he grips your thigh, slathering his precum on your skin. The Salesman bends over to whisper in your ear, "Very good. You're doing so well for me. Now, keep those legs open." With that, he carefully slips the tip of the weapon into your sex. You feel the cold rubber contrasting your heat, making your hole clutch around the gun.

He sees this through the mirror how your hole pulses from the adrenaline of the revolver. You leak with arousal and the sight of it alone made him want to finish right then and there. But this man had a disturbing amount of patience. He harshly slaps his rough palm against your sensitive spot, which caused you to yelp like a puppy through the bone gag. He laughs at your position and says, "Poor puppy, so sensitive and all I did was put it in. Keep biting that bone. It's the only way you'll ever learn to be quiet."

His words sent a rush of pleasure down your body, and when you were close, his warm demeanor drops immediately. He slaps your parts again, harder this time. He clutches your jaw and hisses out, "Did I say you could cum? Hm? No. I didn't. If you cum without my permission, you will be disqualified. If you're disqualified.... then..."

You mutter against the silicone bone that stayed propped in your mouth. The Salesman chuckles and leans his ear against your lips, his disheveled black hair tickling your nose as he says, "Sorry? Come again? I can't quite hear you."

You mutter again, making him fight back the urge to laugh at you. He grabs the tight leather straps and unbuckles the gag. He pulls the black bone away, drawing a string of saliva from your mouth while the rest poured out onto you.

You stretch your mouth, trying to relieve yourself from the discomfort of being contorted for so long when the Salesman tsks in a mocking fashion, "Look at what you've done! You poked a hole in my property!" He shows you the pierced gag, before petting your head and saying, "But it's okay. You'll pay for damages, right? We can work out your debt."

You frantically nod, tears welling up in your eyes from his smacking. He presses his cheek against yours and licks the salty trail down your face before he whispers, "Good puppy. I know you'll take accountability for your actions. I did train you, after all. Now then, what was that you were trying to tell me? What will happen if you are disqualified?"

Your predicament alone could bring you to tears. Spread open for some Salesman you met off the street in front of a mirror, deprived from pleasure, and yet still craving more of his games.

You choke back a sob from the sensual humiliation so you could speak, "If... I'm disqualified, I can't cum for 2 months." The Salesman beams at your response and replies in a condescending tone, "Correct! Such a smart puppy! What if you complain about your punishment?"

You sniffle and continue, "If I complain.... you double the punishment....4 months." He nods and extends the pole with the hitachi wand. He presses the vibrator against the swollen skin between your thighs before pushing the tip of the gun deeper into you. He pats your head and rests the pile onto your shoulder. A few hums muffled between his lips and then he speaks, "As I said before, you will touch yourself in front of this mirror for me to watch. You will not cum until I say so. I will set a timer, you have 30 minutes. With every whine, beg, or cry, I will add an additional 10 minutes, and if you moan... an extra 20 minutes will be added. Good luck doll, you will certainly need it."

You look at yourself, legs parted and reflected by the glass. You were glistening with sweat and the lubricant from the condom ran down your thighs. You press the wand against yourself, feeling the vibrations build up to pure pleasure only for you to push your cuffed wrists under the top and lift up the pole, stopping yourself from going over the edge. The Salesman spectates, jerking off and staring at you with a lustful gaze. His precum dripping and running down your shoulder while you fucked yourself in front of the mirror. You looked at the camera, which had been recording all along.

You avert your eyes, humiliated and flustered by your predicament. It was then that the Salesman holds your chin and turns it to the mirror while he said, "You keep your eyes on me."

It felt likes ages... but it's only been 2 minutes. Just 28 minutes to go.

When the time passed, and you were down to 2 minutes, the Salesman slaps his cock against your cheek as he says, "Look at you, baby. You're a natural. How about this, since you've been so good for me, I'll countdown. I'll count down from 10 to 0. When I get to 0, you can cum. The punishments for failing this are the same as the ones we spoke of. Now... 10... 9..."

The Salesman counts down, massaging your inner thigh and encouraging you, "Good, good. You're holding out just the way I taught you. Deep breath, in and out...yes... good job. 8...7....6....5...."

You try to steady your breathing, waiting for his permission. You briefly contract against the gun, throbbing as the vibrator sends waves of pleasure to your core. Your breaths stutter, but the Salesman slaps your inner thigh and pinches your nipple while he scolds, "Quit it, bitch! Not until I say so!" He lets out a breath, pumping himself and whispering in your ear, "There we go... slow and steady. Breathe.... 4...3...2....1...hold it...." The salesman keeps you on edge for 10 extra seconds, a few extra seconds of extrauciating pleasure, and then finally he says...

"0... congratulations, you have reached the end. Go on... you have my permission."

The gratifying euphoria of his calm but firm confirmation brought the throbbing hot sensation of you coming undone right before his very eyes. Your body ripples with pleasure as the room's pink hue highlighted the way your face contorted and relaxed from the high the Salesman had blessed you with. You could hear him let out a deep moan. That was when you felt your chest become covered in his cum. Thick ropes of his climax painted your skin and glistened from the room's atmosphere. You were both heaving, trying to calm down from the aftershocks of what had happened.

The Salesman unlocks the handcuffs that bounded you to the pole and the spreader bar. He rubs your limbs and kisses you on the head. He whispers, "You did such an amazing job, puppy. You're so good to me. I don't know what I did to get someone as sweet as you. Now then, let's play a new game. A bath game, this time. You wash me, and I'll wash you. Whoever finishes washing their partner first...hm... they can get a treat. How about it?"

You nod, giving him a shy smile while he wiped your tears. He is well aware of the intensity of this scene. Especially with the gunplay, you never did that before. While he doesn't know what you two are exactly, he does know that he, much to his surprise, gets concerned for you. He doesn't know why, but he seems to enjoy looking out for you.

He stretches your body, rubbing away the aches that remained from your games. He then wraps his arm around your shoulder, and carefully takes you to the bathroom.

In a quiet room, the hot water splashes while your chest presses against his. Despite the grey area in the relationship, you had to admit, it is pretty intimate. Even he thought the same. He is so used to having an empty house, and this aftercare after every session was causing something to change within him...

Whatever the case may be, the Salesman holds you close and speaks softly,

"You know... I could get used to this..."

Angsty smut headcanons I made up of Mark Grayson. Please read disclaimer. 18+

DISCLAIMER & TW: Before I get into this, I wanna say that I am extremely new to the Invincible fandom and will be utilizing the canon events in the comic book series. For this reason, SA is mentioned, and as a victim myself, I believe that completely isolating rape victims from any source of sexual media reinforces the idea that we are nothing beyond our traumas. I shouldn't have to explain myself, and I won't elaborate any further. But sexuality can still thrive even after one is assaulted.

TW: Rape mentioned, sexual trauma, highlights of a victim's mental state afterwards including self-blaming, please filter this post if this is upsetting, I understand. This is by no means a noncon fic, these headcanons are about the aftermath of being assaulted and how it affects victims lives.

Please note that this is my first time ever openly writing about a character who is canonically a victim of sexual assault. I don't want to censor us out of media. We shouldn't be objectfied, but we shouldn't be treated as though we're broken or unable to be more than something that happened to us beyond our control. If you want to give me feedback, I'm very much welcoming of it. But understand that I'm not fetishizing Mark's trauma in any way, shape or form. In fact, I find him comforting, because I can relate to some elements of his story. This is supposed to acknowledge Mark's lore and to comfort the disturbed.

It's difficult for Mark to engage in anything after Anissa. But after a few therapy sessions, he did want to try again since... well, he loves you... and before she raped him, sex was a way for him to express his affection in the most intimate way possible.

It's not like the other cases where Mark takes control, because the thought of doing anything paralyzes him. What would be good for him? If it feels good, is it supposed to feel good or is he just convincing himself that it feels good? Did he even want this? Or did he coerce himself into thinking he wanted it?

You make sure to praise him whenever because you understand how difficult this is for him. You tell how strong he is for choosing to do this, how you love him so much, how you could be his hero, how he doesn't always have to do the saving.... you could save him. You could protect him... no matter the cost.

Everything feels like it's vanishing or falling apart.... but here, he has you to hold onto and trust. You're not like his father, or his enemies, or.... her.... god knows what you'd do to protect him. At last, everything feels manageable.... because he's got a hero flying him up to heaven.

Teehee, this is me irl, if you even care💗😊👉🏻👈🏻

I need more metaphorical fanfics like ong this got my English literature nerd ass squealing with joy. You convey James' guilt and desire for human connection and euphoria so beautifully like I swearrrr I could annotate this bitch!

bliss

pairing: james sunderland x maria

cws/tags: p in v, oral, dubcon? (james is not into it), excessive metaphors

summary: if james and maria fucked or something??

a/n: idk even know how to describe this bc it's silent hill? like what is really happening here is subjective tbh

wc: 1k

taglist | ko-fi | masterlist

Despite being held captive by Maria’s heat, James is thinking of Mary the entire time. She’s hot on the surface, warm on the inside, cold in her organs, freezing in her bones, and empty of a soul. Her pink acrylics are like fire when she digs them into his skin. She can’t keep him forever, but he’ll be covered in scratch marks for days. 

Beauty is pain, pain is beauty, or however the old saying goes. 

Maria looks more like Mary when she’s naked. When the choker is off. It looks like a dog collar, he once told her. And how appropriate it is for someone who sat pretty on the side of his bed and begged for this – for scraps. That’s what this is. The leftovers of love that no one else will have – like rotten fruit, it was once good. All of this is bitter, but everyone needs to eat something, at least once in a while, right? It’s not a feast, but it’ll do.

Maria isn’t the kind of dog that barks, she whimpers, and it tugs at his heartstrings until they snap and his willpower unravels. She sheds leopard print like snakeskin, hues of violet, magenta, cranberry, fall to the floor all at once. 

Her skin is soft, breasts perky, pink-nippled, the kind you see in magazines. James plays with them like he does keys on a piano – not well-practiced, yet eliciting sound nonetheless. She’s quiet now – a rarity – likely because Laura is down the hall, asleep, unaware, as she should be. More often than not, she is loud. Her heels click-clack down the hallway towards his bedroom like a warning siren, coming closer, speeding up with every step like his heartbeat.

Even with her shoes on, Maria doesn’t reach James in stature. Neither did Mary, but she never tried to, never needed to — she was above him in every other way. She was ephemeral. Quiet and angelic in ballet flats, she could slip into bed without waking him up. Realistically, she took up a third of this bed at most, maybe a quarter at her sickest, but with her absence the entirety of it feels empty, hollow, like the stuffing’s been removed from the mattress too, though two people lay upon it. 

His name floats from Maria’s lips to his ear, breathless, asking for more than he can give. He wonders if this is what Mary sounded like when they did this sort of thing all those years ago. James remembers her voice, her singing in the passenger seat to the mixtape he made for their first Valentine’s Day together, her yelling at him in the hospital. But he doesn’t remember her moaning, not like this, not on the edge of bliss. Those weren’t the memories he held onto the tightest. 

Not with the same grip that he has on Maria’s hips, maintaining the most control he can while she’s the one on top. Not with the same grip Maria’s cunt has around his dick. She’s squeezing the life out of him, but it feels good, undeniably. Unfairly. Penance is a woman. 

She’s so wet he slipped right in, so wet he slipped up and told her, “goddamn, you’re wet”, caught by surprise because what had he done? His mouth hasn’t touched either pair of lips, and he plans to keep it that way. 

When she gets up, removing the warmth that surrounded him, he groans in frustration. It’s a noise that must be familiar to her. His immense vexation is the only thing larger than her infatuation with him. 

James looks down – something he’s avoided doing until now – and sees her crawling downwards, pressing kisses down his stomach. 

“What are you doing?” he says with zero amusement.

Staining him with dark red lipstick. Like wine or blood. Like before and after.

“Has no one ever done this to you?” she asks, and she takes hold of his cock, making him take in a sharp breath before he answers.

It’s like a stab right through the chest, knocking the wind out of him with the force of something unspoken.  

“No, I– I mean, yes, I’ve had this done to me before. I’m asking you why you’re doing this.”

“Why not? You won’t even have to look at me, I can be under the covers, and you won’t have to hear me talking. You can even pretend I’m someone–”

“Shut up,” he says with a force he’d forgotten he could muster as he shoves his cock down her throat. 

He could pretend it’s someone else – the same way he’s been pretending Maria is Mary for the past 30 minutes or so, but he’d never hurt Mary. He hated hearing the sound of her gagging. He always kept her from going too far. Who is it if not Mary? 

It doesn’t matter who I am. 

Could she be his psychiatrist who’s 60 years old and annoys him to the point that it makes him miss Maria? The woman at the dry cleaners or the cashier at the grocery store? Maybe he needs to get back into watching porn. His mind runs faster than his feet ever have to get to the answer. There is only disappointment at the end of that road, only white sheets covering the another illusion.                       

It's Maria's mouth that sputters, her throat that chokes around his cock even though it's not that big.

When she first caught a glimpse of it, she gave him that classic bullshit line, telling him how big it is, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, well, it’s not small.”

“Just be normal, or as normal as you can be. I don’t want whatever this weird porn thing is that you’re doing.”

It makes it all seem fake. 

See, I’m real. 

Maybe, but not like Mary. 

Then again, maybe it's better if this is all fake so James and Maria are just marionette dolls in someone else’s fantasy, caught in a videotape. 

Maria doesn't need to be Mary, James doesn't need to be James. Instead, he pretends they’re both other people. She’s a nurse, he’s the doctor, she’s a mother, he’s the father.

James looks into her eyes when he’s on top of her, searching for something he’ll never find, until he gives up and flips her over and fucks her flat into the mattress. 

Maria is quiet only because she screams into the pillow. 

James is quiet because that’s how all tapes end. 

A click, static, then silence. 

The way I started squealing and whisper shouting to nobody "WE ARE SO BACK!!!!" When I saw this. Dear god, lemme follow you😭💗

Hiya!🎶

I noticed you liked my post, and I saw ur x reader and I just wanna request a James Sunderland x fem!reader where they're cuddlefucking on a rainy day with Heavenly by Cigarettes After Sex playing? Super specific, I know, just do the best you can. So much angsty smut of him and I just want some wholesome, fluffy smut, please. If you can :3 thank you!!!!

JAMES SUNDERLAND X fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable!

summary; cuddle fucking w james :)

warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, cream pie, spooning & from the back

nsfw content below!!

late nights with james were always the same. boring, just like your loser, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. your television would play in the background as white noise while the two of you huddled close, bathing in each other's body warmth. quiet whispers as long as little caresses would travel between the two of you.

his hold on you was always gentle, like he was scared to accidentally hurt you. his warm arms would wrap around you lovingly, your bodies interlocked, legs tangled with each other. tonight was no different. the moon was out, and your television played an old sitcom, filling the rooms silence. all else that was heard was both of your low breaths, small whimpers, and gasps.

he would press small, praising kisses along your shoulder from behind, intently sliding his cock in and out of your warmth. this was his favorite way to spend time with you, to feel intimate while also being lazy, which he was excellent at. his ears stayed open to your small moans, drinking in your noises. every little whimper that would leave your throat, he’d swallow it whole with a small moan in response, burying himself deeper into you.

“shhhh,” he hushes gently, slowly rocking himself behind you, holding you snug against his chest. he hugs the blanket tighter around the two of you, keeping you locked in his arms and unable to go anywhere. you both wouldn’t want it any other way. his body heat was always high in comparison to your low heat, so you always huddled close to stay warm, especially now.

he tucks your shoulder under his chin, fluttering his eyes shut to enjoy your body and how comfortable you were to hold. your soft skin, the addicting scent of your hair, the way you cooled him down. he wouldn’t trade times like this for a million bucks. the sitcom was long forgotten.

a small whimper leaves you as he brushes against a spot that's overly sensitive. his eyes brighten subtly, and he hugs you tighter, whimpering gently into your skin as he begins to buck his hips into you, smushing his tip against your gummy insides. your noises grow more consistent as he picks up his pace, now focused on making you cum over his cock. his hands grab at you, his intentions turning more greedy. he wanted to hear you cry out his name as he pushes you over the edge, to praise you through it.

“you’re okay,” he hushes, squeezing your breast, thrusting deeply into your soaking hole. “you’re almost there.” it was a miracle he wasn’t whining and whimpering himself, that he wasn’t the one who needed to get talked through this. “you feel me?”

you nod, gasping softly as his thrusts grow more firm. you feel your body get turned onto your tummy, your face smushed into one of your couch pillows. the couch was a frequent spot you and james would make love, the nights where you’d be waiting for him to return home late, and when he finally did, the two of you would be too lazy to move off the cushions into the bedroom. he always ended up making love to you on the pull-out bed, holding you tight against him and savoring your pretty moans.

the tension in your tummy forms a knot, one that tenses your whole body. you gently beg against the couch, feeling his hands hold yours down gently, your fingers intertwining. your sweet moans are muffled, the soft plap plap plap echoing in the room. after a minute, his thrusts grow more slick, his cock now lubricated by your cock. he groans at the sight of your milky cream forming around his base as he fucks it back into you, which slowly starts to push him over the edge. your tightness, your sweet noises, the sight of your pretty butt in the air— its enough to finally make him cum.

he releases himself deep in you, groaning at the sensation. he goes still, the nights deafening silence washing over. he pants lowly, no energy to pull out. your body goes slack, flat agains the couch, so he simply lays on top of you, his cock still sheathed. his arms wrap around you lovingly, spooning your now warm body.

“you okay?” he whispers softly. you smile weakly and nod, turning your head over your shoulder to press a kiss against his lips. he melts against you, cuddling as close as possible. he always became needy after orgasms. “you made me feel so good, you know that?” you praise. it was your turn to pamper the male.

gentle whispers and praises go back and forth before you both eventually fall asleep, huddled close and tucked under the blanket.