#james sunderland x female reader

[james-silent-hill]

Fuck it im gonna write James x Reader stuff. I shouldn't care but what is going with all the hate towards himmmmm. Wtfff.

There are SO MANY WORSE and much more awful people that tiktok Editors and Twitter folk simp over SOMETIMES EVEN IRL MURDERER and suddenly everyone decided "Jep James from the Silent Hill 2 iS THE guy to hate and shame people for finding him hot or interesting" ok then everyone who ever simped on ghostface or THE GHOST from call of duty needs to be shamed as well. They killed a lot of people?! Or Joel from The Last of Us... but y'all ain't ready for that fucking convo and it showwws.

(Not shitting on them I had a huge Joel and ghostface phase)

I like James. He's a very conflicted and interesting character who happens to be hot too. So I write some EQUALLY as bad and evil and terrible dirty fucking Reader smut with him :)

Especially the hate on people who edit him on tiktok is fucking crazy.

Let people like what they like why are we always going back in time with this.

I don't tell you pink as a color fucking sucks and you shouldn't like it. So don't tell me blue is terrible and I shouldn't like/write about it.

Thanks.

The most insane thing is that we are talking about a fictional game character bruh.

[seriiousgiirl]

𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁𝒿𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓍 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇.⊹ ₊ ݁.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. alternate universe - canon divergence, post-silent Hill 2, angst and fluff and smut, touch-starved, redemption, grief, mourning, psychological trauma and horror, mutual pining, James adopted Laura, age difference, smut, vaginal sex, rough sex, rough kissing, aftercare, daddy kink, James deserves his happy ending, James is desperate and pathetic, based on the Silent Hill Games and mostly the remake

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. Three years after the harrowing events in Silent Hill, James Sunderland has survived the haunting memories of his past but carries the heavy burden of grief and guilt. Adopting Laura, James strives to create a normal life for them both, but the echoes of his former life linger, haunting him in moments of solitude.

As he navigates the challenges of fatherhood and a corporate job, James grapples with PTSD and the lingering shadows of his late wife, Mary. His daily interactions are fraught with anxiety, especially when it comes to Laura's teacher, Y/n. Young, vibrant, and filled with warmth. But as Y/n becomes an unexpected source of comfort and tension in James's life. He is drawn to her kindness and beauty, yet he feels undeserving of her attention, burdened by the ghosts of his past.

When Y/n reaches out with genuine concern for James's well-being, he wrestles with feelings of guilt, lust and longing, torn between the desire for connection and the fear of betraying Mary's memory. As James's pent-up frustrations bubble to the surface, he finds himself navigating a complicated emotional landscape where love, loss, and redemption intertwine.

❛ Part 2 ⋅ masterlist ⋅ ao3 ⋅ requests ❜

➜ ┊ a/n: Hello everyone! After years of being more or less in the Silent Hill fandom, the remake rather inspired me... :') After seeing how cute James is in it, I felt like I was rediscovering his character. The story is a bit different from what we usually see, but I hope it will appeal to the (few, I don't think many would be interested in a silent hill fanfic) people who read it.

➜ ┊: chapter 1/?.

James woke up again, his body snapping upright in bed, his breath ragged and uneven as if he had just surfaced from drowning. His chest rose and fell with frantic breaths that refused to calm, his heart hammering against his ribcage like a prisoner desperate to escape. The room around him was silent, still, and blanketed in shadows, the faintest silver glow of the moon seeping through the thin, worn curtains. It painted his surroundings in an eerie light, enough to make out the vague shapes of his furniture but not enough to chase away the weight of the darkness.

He knew it was early—much too early. The alarm on his nightstand wouldn’t go off for hours, not until the unforgiving numbers clicked over to 7 a.m. He set it religiously, every night, clinging to the hope that one day he’d wake naturally to the sound, as if that simple act could restore some semblance of normalcy to his broken life. 

But that never happened.

James never woke peacefully anymore. His body, his mind, refused to grant him that mercy. Instead, he jolted awake in a cold sweat, his body rigid, his pulse racing. Each time, it felt as though he was being pulled from some unseen nightmare—ripped out of a hellish dreamscape that he couldn’t remember clearly but always left its mark. The fear, the panic, the suffocating sense of dread stayed with him, lingering like smoke in the air long after his eyes had adjusted to the dim glow of his bedroom.

He pressed his palm against his face, wiping away the sheen of sweat that clung to his skin. His body felt tense, coiled like a spring that had been wound too tightly. His muscles ached from the constant strain, from the battles he fought every night within the confines of his mind. The nightmares weren’t just dreams. They were fragments of a past that refused to stay buried, haunting him in the dead of night when the world outside was quiet and his mind had no distractions to keep the demons at bay.

The medication bottles on his bedside table gleamed faintly in the moonlight, their labels worn from use. He reached for them out of habit, his fingers brushing the cool surface, but he didn’t open them. No matter how many pills he swallowed, how many prescriptions doctors wrote, nothing ever worked. Sleep was supposed to be a sanctuary, a refuge from the waking world, but for James, it had become another battleground.

He let his hand drop back to his lap, staring down at his shaking fingers. He could feel the tension still coursing through him, the residue of whatever nightmare had dragged him awake. His body hadn’t yet realised he was safe, that it was just a dream, and the adrenaline still pumped through his veins. Every night, it was the same—this restless terror that clung to him, trapping him in a cycle he couldn’t escape. He longed for sleep, yet feared it in equal measure, knowing that the darkness of his subconscious held more horrors than the light of day ever could.

For a moment, he considered lying back down, closing his eyes, and trying again. 

But the thought alone made his stomach twist.

With a sigh, James decided to give up on sleep altogether. There was no use lying there, waiting for his heart to calm down or for the remnants of his nightmare to fade. His legs still trembled as he swung them over the side of the bed, the cool floor beneath him grounding him just enough to pull himself up. The shadows in the room seemed to shift as he stood, though he knew it was his mind playing tricks again. He had long stopped trusting the darkness.

He moved carefully, trying to stay silent as he made his way to the door, not wanting to wake Laura. She was the only constant in his life now, the only reason he hadn’t completely unravelled. But even the thought of her, sleeping peacefully down the hall, wasn’t enough to ease the tremor in his hands. As he stepped out of the bedroom, the familiar creak of the floorboards echoed too loud in the silence of the house, and for a fleeting moment, his breath hitched.

Sometimes, in these quiet hours, he could swear he heard them—the monsters. That same sickening creaking sound they made, their grotesque forms dragging across the cold. Or worse, the heavy, slow scrap of metal—a blade being dragged along the ground. His body tensed, instinctively waiting for the ominous presence of that thing— he came to call Pyramid Head. He hadn’t seen it in three years, but its presence still lingered, like a ghost lurking in the corners of his mind. His chest tightened as he imagined that scraping sound growing closer, louder, but he knew… or at least, he tried to convince himself it wasn’t real. Not anymore.

On the worst days, though, it wasn’t just the monsters. 

Sometimes, he would hear her—Mary. Her voice, soft and sweet, like the Mary he remembered before everything went wrong, calling out to him. It always started the same way, a gentle whisper at first, like she was in the next room, waiting for him. And each time, it grew louder, more urgent, until it was a siren’s call, relentless and cruel. It was enough to make his heart stop, to make him question everything, and then he’d remember—he knew where that call would lead. Straight into oblivion. Straight into the abyss of his own guilt.

On other nights, he could swear he felt Maria—her warmth next to him in bed, the way her body would press against his. It was so vivid, so painfully real, as though she hadn’t died in his arms multiple times, as though Silent Hill hadn’t swallowed her whole. She had been a ghost, a reflection of everything he had lost, and yet… sometimes she felt alive in those moments. His doctors told him it was all hallucinations, the remnants of trauma deeply embedded in his mind. Certified and explained away in clinical terms, but knowing that didn’t change how real it felt in those fleeting, terrifying seconds.

Even now, as he stood in the hallway, his breath uneven, James couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere—beneath the layers of his fragile reality—the horrors were still there, watching, waiting.

James padded quietly into the kitchen, his bare feet brushing against the cool tiles as he reached for a glass. The water flowed smoothly from the tap, cool and refreshing, and he drank it straight, the crispness washing over him. It helped clear his mind, if only for a moment, pushing back the lingering echoes of the night’s terrors. 

After finishing the glass, he flicked on the small lamp in the living room, its soft glow spilling light across the space, chasing away the oppressive darkness. He made his way to the couch, settling himself in front of the window, where the city still lay shrouded in early morning silence. Outside, the world was just beginning to stir, but here in this moment, everything felt suspended in time.

They had moved far away from Silent Hill, away from Maine altogether, as if he was still trying to escape the town’s haunting pull. When Laura had expressed her desire for a place near the coast, saying she wanted to feel the warmth of the sun and breathe in the salty scent of the ocean, he had obliged her wishes. It was the least he could do for the little girl who had become his lifeline, the one bright spot in his otherwise dark world. It had taken time, but he had learned to appreciate the small things—like the sound of waves crashing against the shore and the way the sunlight danced on the water’s surface.

He pulled his journal from the side table, the worn leather cover familiar against his fingers. The pages were filled with thoughts, memories, and an ongoing dialogue with himself—one that his doctor had encouraged. Writing was meant to help him sort through his feelings, to separate reality from the nightmares that still clung to him like shadows. It was a way to document the moments that felt tangible, grounding him in the present.

With the pen poised above the page, he took a deep breath, letting the silence of the morning wrap around him. 

Date: [XX/10/1993]

Another night of waking up in a cold sweat. The dreams feel heavier lately, more vivid. I can still hear Mary’s voice sometimes, like she’s calling out to me. I know it’s not real, but the longing… It’s hard to escape. I need to remember that I’m here now. That I have Laura. She needs me to be present. I need to plan my day—take her to the beach, show her the tide pools, maybe? She deserves to explore, to laugh, to feel alive. Maybe it will help me too.

James paused, staring at the words he’d just written. The ink was still wet, and he felt the weight of each line pressing against his chest, a mixture of hope and dread swirling within him. 

He continued, allowing his thoughts to flow onto the page.

I’ve been thinking about the way the ocean looks at dawn. It’s a beautiful sight, the horizon slowly illuminated by the first light of day. I want to share that with Laura. She deserves to see the world as it is. Maybe if I can show her that, it’ll help me remember what it feels like to be alive, too.

He turned the page, feeling the familiar texture beneath his fingertips, grounding him in a moment that felt too fragile. The nightmares are starting to blur again. It’s like I’m drifting between memories and dreams. I know I should talk to Dr. Fischer about it, but I hate feeling so exposed. Every time I sit across from him, it’s like peeling back layers of skin. I don’t want to keep reliving the past, but I also know I can’t pretend it doesn’t exist. It’s a part of me now—part of what makes me who I am.

But sometimes, I wonder if I’m doing enough. If I’m enough. Laura is so full of life—she deserves happiness, yet I feel like a ghost in my own home. The laughter that fills this place is often followed by a silence that weighs heavily on me, as if I’m a spectator in my own life, watching a play where I don’t belong. 

He paused, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, fighting against the swell of loneliness that threatened to overwhelm him. 

Some days, I can still hear Mary’s laughter, the way it used to light up the room, but now it’s a whisper in the wind. I wish I could reach out to her, ask her for forgiveness, tell her how much I miss her. But she’s gone, and I’m left with nothing but my guilt and the memories that won’t let me go. It’s a bitter irony—I have another chance at life with Laura, yet I feel more alone than ever.

I thought time would heal me, that the scars would fade, but each day feels like a new reminder of what I’ve lost. I watch Laura play, her laughter cutting through the silence, and it fills me with joy and pain all at once. I want to protect her, to shield her from the darkness I carry. But how can I do that when I’m still fighting my own battles?

Anyway, plan for today: Take Laura to the beach, explore the tide pools, and have a picnic.

As he continued to write, the rhythm of his thoughts began to settle, the initial chaos giving way to clarity. He documented everything he hoped to achieve that day, the things that could distract him. 

After some time, the soft patter of small feet echoed in the hallway, and Laura emerged from her room, her hair tousled and her eyes still heavy with sleep. She settled next to James on the couch, curling her legs beneath her as she leaned against his shoulder, still waking up. 

“Did you even sleep at all?” she mumbled, her voice thick with the remnants of slumber. 

James chuckled softly, the sound warm and gentle. “Just a little. You know how it is,” he replied, glancing down at her. The early morning light filtered through the window, illuminating her features and casting a soft glow around them. 

“Not again,” Laura sighed, shaking her head in mock exasperation. “You should really take better care of yourself, you know.”

James smiled, closing his journal and setting it aside, feeling the comforting weight of their shared silence. His relationship with Laura had evolved significantly since that first day they met. In the beginning, there was an undeniable tension, a wall between them built from grief and uncertainty. Laura had been sharp-tongued and defiant, often testing his patience with her stubbornness. But over time, that wall had crumbled, brick by brick, revealing a bond that had become more profound and genuine. 

“Maybe I just like the quiet,” he teased, nudging her lightly with his shoulder. “It gives me time to think.”

Laura rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah, right. More like you spend it worrying about everything,” she shot back, her familiar sass coming through. But he could sense the softness in her demeanour, the way she had begun to let him in, and it filled him with gratitude.

There were still moments when she wouldn’t call him “Dad”—it felt too heavy, too final—but there had been instances where the word slipped out, once or twice. The first time he had felt a rush of warmth and something almost like fear at her words. It had caught him off guard, pulling at his heartstrings in a way he hadn’t expected. It was one night after a particularly rough day at school. 

The kids had been relentless, and when she had come home, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She had cried so much that night, seeking solace in his arms, and in that moment of vulnerability, she had whispered it—Dad—like it was a fragile promise, something she wanted to believe in.

He had held her tightly, whispering reassurances as she poured out her heart. It was one of the hardest days for both of them, but that single word had changed everything, reinforcing their bond in ways he never thought possible. 

The shrill sound of James’s alarm cut through the quiet morning, signalling that it was finally 7 a.m. He groaned softly, the sudden noise pulling him from the lingering remnants of his thoughts. “Time to get moving,” he muttered to himself before swinging his legs off the couch and standing up.

“Laura,” he called out gently, “you need to get ready for school.” 

Laura groaned but slowly pushed herself upright, her hair sticking up in tousled spikes. “Do I have to?” she whined, rubbing her eyes.

“Yes, you do,” James replied with a chuckle, heading into the kitchen to start breakfast. He could already hear her muttering under her breath as she dragged herself away from the comfort of the couch, but he couldn’t help but smile at her antics. As he prepared breakfast, the scent of eggs and toast filled the air, mixing with the cool October breeze that slipped in through the slightly ajar window. 

He could hear the soft shuffle of Laura getting ready in the background, her footsteps echoing through the hallway.

When breakfast was ready, he set the table, placing a plate in front of her just as she joined him. They ate together in comfortable silence, the clinking of forks the only sound between them for a few moments. 

“So, there’s this kid in class…” Laura began, her voice a mix of enthusiasm and worry. As she recounted her stories, James listened attentively, nodding along as she shared her concerns about a class project and the kids who were teasing her again. She spoke with an earnestness that made him proud, she was a smart little girl.

“...and I do think the teacher likes me a lot,” she finished, her voice dropping slightly, smiling shyly.

James reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on hers. “You’re doing great, Laura. I’m so proud of you,” he encouraged, hoping to convey his support. 

Once they finished breakfast, he cleared the table while she dashed back to her room to grab her backpack. The familiar morning routine helped ground him, a stark contrast to the chaos that often filled his mind.

Then, James returned to his room, feeling the familiar weight of his thoughts returning. He turned on the water for a shower, the warm spray washing over him, almost as if he were trying to cleanse himself of his sins and guilt. Each droplet felt like it could wash away a little more of his guilt, his pain, and his memories.

After his shower, he stood in front of the mirror, towel drying his ash-blond hair and tidying it up, shaving his stubble. The cold air from outside seeped through the window, sending a shiver down his spine as he dressed for the day. He pulled on a simple shirt and jeans. 

But as James stood in front of his closet, the morning light filtering through the curtains, his gaze fell upon his signature khaki jacket hanging quietly amidst his other clothes. For a moment, he hesitated, his heart tightening.

The jacket felt heavy with the weight of the past. He recalled the feel of it against his skin as he navigated the fog-laden streets, the chill of the air contrasting sharply with the warmth it provided. It had shielded him from the elements, yes, but it had also cloaked him in the pain of his choices, the guilt that clung to him like a second skin. 

James swallowed hard, staring at the jacket, the muted fabric whispering secrets of the past. He could almost hear the echoes of Mary’s voice, feel the pang of loss that accompanied every memory. It was as if the jacket was tainted, infused with the blood and tears of that time—but also her scent, her warmth and gentle touch.

Perhaps… Today, he could indulge himself.

He took a deep breath, fighting against the swell of anxiety that rose within him. This jacket is just a piece of clothing, James, he reminded himself, yet it felt like so much more. With a decisive moment, he pulled it from the hanger and slipped it on, the familiar weight settling comfortably on his shoulders. 

James looked at himself in the mirror, the reflection staring back at him was a man still fighting battles. With a shameful sigh, he adjusted the collar, feeling the jacket’s fabric against his skin. When he stepped outside, the brisk October wind greeted him, a sharp contrast to the warmth inside. 

Laura stood at the door, a look of surprise mixed with concern crossing her face.

“Why are you still wearing that jacket?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gestured to the fabric. “You know… after everything that happened in...” She couldn’t bring herself to say the name of the haunting town.

James shrugged, a faint smile creeping onto his face. “I still like it. It’s comfortable.” 

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “You’re so weird, James,” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder as they made their way down the path toward the car.

“Weird or not, let’s get you to school on time little girl,” he said, his tone quite firm. Together, they stepped into the brisk morning air, ready to face whatever the day had in store.

‧───────────────

Dropping Laura off at school had become a routine, but for James, it was anything but simple. As they approached the bustling entrance, he felt a familiar tightening in his chest, a sense of dread creeping over him like a heavy fog. It wasn’t the school itself or the noise of children chattering and laughing; it was the attention he attracted.

In a small town where traditional family structures were the norm, a single father with a daughter who didn’t even remotely resemble him stood out like a sore thumb. James had chosen to keep his past private, and he was grateful that Laura’s adoption remained a secret. He avoided any conversations that might lead to questions about their relationship or as to why he was alone, fearing the scrutiny that came with revealing the truth. After all, in the eyes of the world, he was just a man dropping off his daughter, and that was how he wanted it to stay.

As they parked and stepped out of the car, the sun shone brightly, but it felt cold against his skin. He could already sense the gazes of the mothers lingering on him as he helped Laura with her backpack. Their eyes were sharp, curious, sizing him up like sharks circling prey, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of vulnerability. James kept his head down, focusing on Laura as she adjusted her straps and prepared to head inside.

“Have a good day, okay?” he said, forcing a smile as she turned to him, her enthusiasm bubbling over as she waved goodbye.

“Bye, James!” she called, her voice full of cheer as she dashed toward the school gates, her ponytail swinging behind her. 

With her back turned, James felt the full weight of the mothers’ stares. He could almost hear the whispers beneath their breath, speculating about him—why he was alone, where Laura’s mother was, and why they didn’t look alike. It was all too easy to imagine the conclusions they would jump to, and he wanted no part of it. 

Every step he took toward his car felt like walking through a minefield. He avoided eye contact at all costs, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground as he navigated through the throngs of parents and children. Conversations buzzed around him, but he focused solely on his breathing, trying to ignore the anxiety tightening around his chest.

As he passed a small group of mothers standing near the entrance, he couldn’t help but catch snippets of their conversations, even as he tried to block them out.

“Did you see him? He looks so sad,” one of them whispered, her voice dripping with faux concern. “Who could leave such a handsome man alone?”

James felt a familiar flush creep up his neck, a mix of embarrassment and irritation. He quickened his pace, but their comments followed him like shadows.

“I know, right? A single father is so sexy,” another chimed in. “I wish my husband was as committed to our son’s school life.”

He clenched his jaw, biting back a retort. The last thing he wanted was to be part of their gossip, yet he was helpless against the words that floated through the air like smoke. Each compliment felt like a reminder of everything he wanted to avoid—attention, scrutiny, and the inevitable questions.

As he reached the edge of the parking lot, he heard another mother say, “I heard there’s a parents-teacher meeting tonight. Can you imagine? He’ll probably be all alone again. It’s such a shame.”

The words hit him like a cold slap, and he paused, taking a moment to gather himself. The thought of attending the meeting, sent a fresh wave of anxiety crashing over him. Why did they have to bring that up now?

He finally reached his car, fumbling for his keys in his pocket as he tried to push the whispers from his mind. The weight of judgement lingered in the air, but he didn’t look back. He slipped into the driver’s seat, exhaling slowly as he gripped the steering wheel. “Just another day,” he murmured to himself, willing his heart to calm. 

James had avoided women religiously since he came back, erecting barriers around himself that felt both protective and suffocating. The loss of Mary had left a gaping hole in his heart, one that he couldn’t bear to fill with anyone else. Allowing himself to indulge in the warmth of another felt like an insult to her memory.

In the years following her death, he had retreated into himself, building walls high enough to keep the world—and the painful reminders of his past—at bay. He threw himself into fatherhood, pouring all his energy into raising Laura and ensuring she felt loved and secure. She was his anchor, the one bright spot in the dark fog of his grief. Yet, in avoiding connections with women, he had inadvertently created a deep well of pent-up frustrations within himself—frustrations that simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.

Every time he caught himself looking at a woman, whether it was a fleeting glance at a passerby or—especially a longer gaze at Laura’s teacher during a school event, he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. What am I doing? He would ask himself, immediately diverting his eyes, as if the very act of looking was a betrayal of the love he once held dear. He had convinced himself that he wasn’t ready to move forward, but in truth, he was terrified of what that would mean. 

In the quiet moments, when he was alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t help but acknowledge the weight of his solitude. The nights grew long and lonely, and sometimes he found himself longing for the comfort of another person—a hand to hold, a voice to soothe him. 

But the thought of crossing that line felt insurmountable, like stepping onto a precipice with no way back. He often wondered if this self-imposed exile was healthy or just a way of avoiding the inevitable. Deep down, he knew that if he ever did let someone in, it would come with a torrent of emotions he wasn’t prepared to face—the guilt, the grief, and the fear of moving on without forgetting.

Sometimes, when the darkness of the night enveloped him and the oppressive solitude weighed heavily upon his chest, James found himself struggling to resist his deepest, most shameful urges. Alone in the dim light of his bedroom, the air thick with silence, he would reach for the only source of warmth he had left—his own body.

But every time he started to jerk himself, trying to think about anyone other than Mary, he would falter. His thoughts would slip, no matter how hard he tried to redirect them. The moment he ventured into the realm of fantasy, attempting to conjure images of the warmth he longed for, his mind would betray him. Instead of the embrace of another, he would see Mary’s face—her soft smile, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief, the lightness in her laughter that had once filled their home. The memory of her enveloped him, suffocating and punishing him in its intensity, and he would feel a deep-seated shame clawing at his insides.

But jerking off while thinking about his dead wife, the one he had killed, felt utterly wrong. 

With a trembling hand, he'd stroke his hardening cock, trying to drown out the memories that haunted him. But no matter how hard he tried to push them away, they always crept back in, taking over his mind and filling him with an overwhelming sense of guilt. Images of Mary would flood his vision, her soft smile and sparkling eyes etched into his mind, along with the lightness of her laughter that once filled their home.

As he stroked faster, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, he could feel the pressure building inside him. But just as he was about to reach the edge of ecstasy, he would see her face again, and the guilt would consume him. How could he possibly find pleasure in this, knowing what he had done to her? 

The guilt was overwhelming, flooding his senses as he would try to push it all away, but it clung to him like a shadow. Tears would fill his eyes, hot and stinging, blurring his vision as the shame washed over him. He would cry, feeling pathetic and broken, as if indulging in his own body was another betrayal on a long list he had made in his mind. How could I even think of anyone else? He would chastise himself, the guilt wrapping around his heart like a vice, squeezing tighter until it became unbearable.

Knowing that he could never truly find solace in this act, James would eventually release his warm cum spilling onto his hand and stomach. But even in the aftermath of his orgasm, the guilt remained, and he would lie there, spent and broken, wondering how he could ever redeem himself.

It was a cycle of longing and despair that left him feeling more isolated than before. He would swipe at his tears, but they would keep coming, relentless and unyielding. The echoes of his cries seemed to linger in the air, a haunting reminder that he was still trapped in a cycle of grief that he could never escape…

‧───────────────

The day had finally drawn to a close, and the muted hum of office chatter began to fade as the fluorescent lights overhead flickered in their final moments. James gathered his belongings, the familiar weight of his briefcase resting heavily in his hand. The corporate world had wrapped around him like a well-worn coat, the same job he had held before, one that felt both calming and predictable. 

It paid well enough to keep the bills at bay and provided a stable life for him and Laura, allowing him to indulge her little whims—the occasional treat, a new book or doll, or even a day out at the beach. 

As he waved goodbye to his coworkers, offering polite smiles and half-hearted chuckles, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of isolation. Their lives seemed so vibrant, filled with laughter and casual conversations about weekend plans, while he felt like an outsider peering in. Part of him wished he could simply slip away unnoticed, disappearing into the anonymity of the evening. But the thought of the upcoming parent-teacher meeting loomed over him like a dark cloud, the spectre of his insecurities rising to the surface. 

What if Laura’s teacher had concerns about her progress? What if she brought up issues he was completely unaware of? The prospect of engaging in a discussion that could highlight his shortcomings as a parent filled him with an unfamiliar anxiety. He recalled how he had struggled to help her with her homework due to his absent mind, the frustration evident in both their faces as they would argue over James’ implications. Laura would always end up saying that she wished she had a better family…

As he walked through the now empty parking lot, James’s mind drifted to the scenario of the meeting. Maybe it was a bit late, and he secretly hoped Laura’s teacher wouldn’t want to linger past the working usual hour to talk with him. He envisioned himself slipping away, feigning an urgent call or an unforeseen obligation, but guilt gnawed at him, tugging at his conscience. 

He couldn’t let Laura down; she had come to rely on him, and he owed it to her to at least try.

“Just get through it,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head as if to clear the impending doubts swirling in his mind. The crisp October air washed over him like a cleansing wave, invigorating him for just a moment. Inhaling deeply, he felt the coolness slice through the tension that had built up in his chest throughout the day, if only temporarily.

Sliding into the driver’s seat of his ageing car, he turned the key in the ignition, the familiar rumble reassuring him, if only slightly. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard; he still had a little time before he needed to pick Laura up from school. As he drove toward the school, the streets blurred by in a rush of colors, and he allowed himself to mentally prepare for the meeting. 

Maybe he could muster enough courage by the time he arrived, but deep down, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this meeting would push him closer to confronting the ghosts of his past—something he had been desperately trying to avoid.

Thoughts of Mary flitted through his mind, uninvited yet persistent. What would she think of him now? Would she be proud of how he was trying to raise Laura, or would she shake her head in disappointment? These questions haunted him as he navigated the familiar streets. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions roiling within him. 

The school building came into view, and he parked in a spot near the entrance. As he sat there for a moment, staring at the looming structure that housed his daughter’s daily adventures. With a deep breath, he pushed open the car door, stepping out into the cool evening air. 

As he approached the entrance, he reminded himself that this was part of the job of being a parent—a role he was still desperately trying to fully embrace. After all, it was true she deserved more than a father lost in his own grief.

As he approached the school gate, he spotted her standing there, the last child waiting to be picked up. His heart sank at the sight; he had hoped to arrive earlier, to be there for her when the final bell rang. A wave of guilt washed over him, but when Laura turned and her face lit up with a smile, that guilt was momentarily pushed aside.

At least she wasn’t angry. 

“James!” she called out, her voice bright and cheerful, as she stretched out her hand toward him. He could see a small backpack slung over her shoulder, and his heart swelled at how she looked—so much like a little girl embracing the world, unbothered by the worries that often plagued him.

“Hey,” he replied, kneeling slightly to take her small hand in his. 

As he thanked the school attendant, a friendly woman with kind eyes who had watched over Laura, he glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her teacher. He didn’t see anyone lingering by the entrance, and a relieved sigh escaped him. Perhaps she had decided to leave, not waiting for him to discuss whatever concerns she may have had about Laura. That was one less thing for him to handle, and he felt a slight weight lift off his shoulders.

“Let’s go home, shall we?” he suggested, his tone light as he turned to lead Laura away. The sight of her eager nod and bright smile made his heart feel lighter, even if just for a moment. He began to walk toward the car, feeling a sense of normalcy return to him—until a soft voice called out behind him.

“Mr. Sunderland!” 

Here’s an expansion on James' perception of you:

James turned, the sound of your voice pulling him back from his thoughts. You were striding toward him, your expression a mix of determination and urgency, the late afternoon light catching in your soft hair. 

There was something striking about your presence that always made his heart race, even amidst the rising anxiety he felt at these interactions. It was as if you carried a warmth with you, an energy that seemed to radiate in the space around you, igniting a flicker of something long dormant within him.

“I was just about to leave,” you said, a hint of breathlessness in your tone as you approached. “I wanted to talk to you before you went. Is this a good time?” You looked unsure.

James glanced at Laura, who was watching the exchange with curious eyes. He felt the familiar knot of anxiety twist in his stomach but nodded, trying to mask his apprehension with a calm demeanour. “Sure, I have a moment.”

“Laura’s been doing really well, by the way,” you continued, your voice lightening as you spoke about his daughter. “She’s incredibly bright and has made some good friends this semester. I’m really proud of her progress.”

James felt a flicker of warmth at your praise. He was grateful to see Laura thriving, especially after the rough patches they had navigated together. “Thank you. I know she’s been working hard,” he replied, glancing down at her, who was beaming at your words.

“But…” you paused, your tone shifting slightly. “There are some areas where she might need a bit more support. I think if we work together, we can help her really shine.”

James felt a wave of gratitude and unease wash over him. While he wanted to support Laura, the idea of deeper involvement with her teaching felt daunting. “What do you suggest?”

Your eyes met his, and he felt a strange mix of comfort and vulnerability in that gaze. You began outlining a few ideas, your passion for teaching evident in your animated gestures. He found himself hanging on your words, drawn in by the way you spoke.

As you began to speak about Laura’s progress, he couldn't help but take in the little details—the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about the kids, the way your hands moved animatedly as you explained your thoughts, and the curve of your soft pink lips. It struck him how youthful and beautiful you looked, filled with a vibrancy that he found both comforting and terrifying. 

He had known you for years since Laura started school, but he had always kept his distance, avoiding lingering too long in your presence. Every encounter felt like a double-edged sword; he wanted to connect, to know you better, but the fear of what that meant held him back. Your passion for teaching shone through, and it was evident that you genuinely cared for each child, especially his daughter. 

Yet, for James, that made you all the more dangerous.  It was a kind of warmth that he couldn’t dare to approach or touch, as if it would burn his skin. Your laughter and bright smiles were like sunlight piercing through the clouds, illuminating the shadows that loomed over his heart. 

But it also reminded him of how far removed he was from that happiness. 

The innocence and light you carried felt worlds away from the darkness he had endured. It made him question if he was even deserving of your kindness, let alone your attention—even if it was strictly professional. You had a purity about you that felt both inviting and forbidding. It was the kind of innocence that reminded him of everything he had hoped for once—everything he felt unworthy of now. How could someone like you, who radiated joy and hope, ever understand the darkness that clung to him? The guilt and despair that wrapped around his heart like a vice? 

Yet, as you continued, he realised that part of him didn’t want this moment to end. Just a short while ago, he had dreaded this conversation, but now he found himself wishing to listen to your soft voice all night long.

As you concluded your thoughts about Laura, your smile remained bright, and for a moment, James caught himself wishing he could linger just a bit longer in your presence, absorbing the warmth you exuded. But the instinct to retreat kicked in, a familiar defence mechanism rising to shield him from the vulnerability he felt around you. 

“Thanks for the feedback,” he said, forcing a smile as he tried to mask the storm of emotions brewing inside him. “I appreciate you taking the time.”

You smiled back, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes—curiosity, concern? 

He couldn’t quite decipher it. 

As you stood there, a moment of silence stretched between you, and James noticed a flicker of hesitation in your eyes. You looked shy, as if you were unsure whether you were crossing a line by speaking up. 

“Mr. Sunderland,” you began, your voice soft, “are you okay? I’ve noticed you’ve looked... a bit tired lately.” 

The question caught him off guard, and for a fleeting moment, he found himself wondering if it was painfully oblivious or truly observant of the details that everyone else seemed to overlook. But quickly, he concluded that he must have been projecting his exhaustion more than he realised, and he must definitely look tired. 

The question wasn’t intimate.

He forced a smile, trying to shake off the weight of your concern. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied too quickly, dismissing your worry as he nodded almost vigorously. “Just, you know, work and everything.” 

For a heartbeat, you searched his face, perhaps hoping to see something more, a glimpse of the truth that lay beneath his carefully crafted exterior. But after a moment of hesitation, you seemed to accept his response. You nodded, though there was still a hint of worry shadowing your features. 

“If you or Laura need anything, please let me know,” you insisted gently. “I’d be more than happy to help.” 

The kindness in your offer made his chest tighten, his heart pounding with a mix of gratitude and desire. He appreciated it, truly, but it also fueled the raging fire of lust that had consumed him. Here you were, simply trying to be helpful, and yet he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to have you all to himself, to explore every inch of your body and lose himself in your embrace.

His mind raced with vivid, graphic images of you—unbuttoning your shirt, revealing your tantalising curves; running his hands over your smooth skin; kissing and licking your neck, tasting the salt of your sweat. He could almost taste the sweet moan that would escape your parted lips, the moan of a woman ready to surrender to his sinful, wanton needs. The very idea of it made his breath catch in his throat and his cock twitch in his pants.

He felt like a beast, a predator stalking its prey, as he watched you. Every move you made was a tease, every word you spoke a seductive whisper that echoed in his mind and stoked the flames of his desire. You were a forbidden, irresistible delight that he craved with every fibre of his being.

“Thank you,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper and his voice painfully strained. “That means a lot.” He managed to nod, hoping to convey his gratitude without revealing the turmoil churning inside him.

James' lips curled into a polite smile, but his dark thoughts raged like wildfire beneath the surface. He tried to ignore the forced gentleness of his own tone, reminding himself that he was only being polite. Yet, every word he uttered was weighed down by heavy lust for you, and the knowledge that he should never let these desires surface again.

As you stood there, a mixture of warmth and uncertainty radiating from your presence, he felt a pang of regret. You were offering him a lifeline, yet he felt as though he was dragging you into a murky depth he didn’t know how to escape. The moment hung between you, a fragile thread of connection that he wanted to reach for, yet feared would only end in disappointment. In your eyes, he saw kindness, concern, and a spark of something he dared not acknowledge. But with every passing second, he also felt the walls he had built around himself begin to tremble, as if you might be the catalyst for change he had been both longing for and dreading.

“I should go,” you said, breaking the silence, and James felt an odd mix of relief and disappointment wash over him.

“Right,” he replied, forcing his mind to focus on the present. “Thank you Miss, and have a good night.”

You offered him one last warm smile before turning to leave, and he watched you go, feeling the weight of what had happened. The kindness you had shown him stirred something deep within—a longing he couldn’t quite satisfy.

[sundeerland]

james sunderland x gn!reader

request: Hello! I see your requests are open? If you write for him, could you write some headcanons on james sunderland being with/comforting a highly anxious s/o? Please and thank you 😊

note: hiii, of course!! thank you for requesting this!! it's been a while since i wrote something for tumblr so i hope this is decent :) and sorry if there's any errors, english isn't my first language. anyways, enjoy!

i think james would be so understanding about your condition, because he is kind of a anxious person himself

he do try to maintain his composure in that matter tho, that's why no one would think he is experiencing the effects of it

when it comes to you, he will stop any task he has in his hands to give you the proper support (unless he's taking down the monsters that comes for the both of you)

will help you regulate your breathing while caressing the side of your arms or your back, whichever is more comforting to you

if you bring to him your worries about anything, he will listen carefully, even if it's something nearly impossible to happen he still will validate your fear and thoughts about it

james himself have these kind of thoughts, he just decide not to share often. but there is rare moments he vocals it to you because he feels comfortable and feels he will not be judged for it

when it comes to you having a hard time to move foward due to your anxiety of what you two will face next, james won't take long to find a safe place for you to rest your mind and body

he will think of a topic to say to distract your mind of it's horrors, and will be pretty much happy about it if you laugh of something he said to ease your thoughts

if you're willing to accept hugs in vulnerable moments, expect to be engulfed by his warmth and a gentle hand caressing the back of your head

overall he's a comprehensive person and is relieved you have someone to rely on, especially because that someone is him

[msewn]

James Sunderland and hatsune miku~

I head-canon that james accidentally Listened to one of mikus songs but didn’t know where it was from. he sometimes hums it to himself when he’s alone ^_^

im getting better at clay, I think!

[sundrlands]

how can you look at this man and not assume he’d just submit to you fully— all morsel of his being melted in the palm of your hands… losing himself to you… for you.

hi there!

the name is ink! im a new blog— already posted my first james fic called ‘significance’ , a submissive x dom reader long fic— here to inform that requests are open! i write for james only (for the time being) so whatever your little heart desires, ill grant your requests.

there’s limitations of course but in terms of anything specific such as the readers way of expression— them being trans, masc or fem presenting, nonbinary or cis gendered— and amongst other things like themes, quick blurbs, etc, don’t fray away from anything you think of and want to be seen written.

make sure that you’re also 18+, this is not a safe space for minors please and thank you.

i hope you all have a lovely day!

[huntfeld]

Where Shadows Meet

Pairing: Angela Orosco x Reader

Summary: In Silent Hill, the reader meets Angela, and together they confront their pasts. Through a cautious bond, they find comfort and begin to see a way out—no longer alone.

@fallenvervain hope you like it :)

The fog was thick, draping over Silent Hill’s empty streets in suffocating layers. Buildings stretched upward like skeletal fingers clawing at the sky, their windows hollow and dark, holding secrets that only deepened the town’s oppressive silence. You couldn’t remember how you got here, nor could you shake the feeling that this place knew you somehow, in ways you didn’t want to acknowledge.

As you walked, you spotted a figure up ahead, drifting through the mist. A young woman, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around herself, as if she were trying to protect what little remained of her spirit. Something about her felt fragile yet powerful, like she carried a lifetime’s worth of sorrow.

“Angela?” you called out softly, more of a question than a certainty.

The woman turned, startled, her face framed by dark hair, her eyes large and hollow. A flicker of confusion crossed her face before her features softened into a guarded understanding.

“You… know my name?” Her voice was delicate, barely more than a whisper, and tinged with a deep sadness that clung to every word.

“Not really,” you admitted, feeling oddly connected to her despite having only just met. “I just thought you looked… as lost as I feel.”

Angela’s gaze drifted down, and for a moment, it seemed she was going to walk away. But instead, she nodded, her eyes avoiding yours. “We’re all lost here,” she murmured, almost to herself, her voice laced with a bitter familiarity.

Without another word, she turned and began to walk, as though your presence had reminded her of her purpose. But she didn’t ask you to leave. When you fell into step beside her, she didn’t pull away.

———

The town was a maze of empty streets and forgotten buildings, each one feeling more suffocating than the last. Your footsteps echoed in the silence as if the town itself was listening, watching, waiting. The deeper you walked, the more Silent Hill seemed to close in, twisting the streets around you, the fog distorting every corner into a haunting half-memory.

At last, you both reached an abandoned apartment building, its cracked walls stained and peeling with age. Angela paused at the entrance, her gaze distant, haunted.

“It’s… quiet here,” she said finally, almost to herself.

You nodded, following her inside. The air was stale, the remnants of forgotten lives strewn across the floor, dust and old memories lingering in the corners. Angela found a spot along the wall and slid down, resting her back against it. Her arms wrapped around her knees, holding herself in a way that spoke of deep pain and isolation.

For a long time, you simply sat beside her, the silence between you feeling more honest than any words. Her presence was a steady weight next to you, comforting in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. Finally, Angela broke the silence, her voice as quiet and vulnerable as you’d ever heard it.

“People… they don’t come to Silent Hill for happy reasons,” she said, her eyes fixed somewhere distant. “I came here to face what I thought I deserved.”

Her words hung in the air, raw and heavy, as though she was revealing a part of herself she usually kept hidden. You felt the weight of her sorrow, a feeling that mirrored your own in ways you hadn’t expected.

“I don’t think you deserve this at all,” you replied softly. “I don’t even know you, but… I know that kind of pain. The kind that makes you feel like you have to suffer.”

Angela’s gaze shifted to you, something almost like recognition in her eyes. “Is that why you’re here, too? Looking for a way to… make it right?”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “I guess… I’ve been carrying things I can’t let go of. And they got too heavy. I didn’t even realize it until I got here.”

She was quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing a pattern on the floor. “Sometimes,” she murmured, “it feels like this town is just a reflection of everything I try to bury. Like it’s showing me my pain because it’s all I’ve got left.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing hers, a small, tentative gesture. She flinched slightly, but didn’t pull away. Her fingers remained just under yours, delicate and unsure.

“Angela,” you whispered, “we don’t have to do this alone. We don’t have to stay here and suffer like this.”

Her hand tensed under yours, and she looked away, her eyes shining with a deep-rooted hurt. “I don’t… I don’t know how to leave. I don’t know if I even want to.”

The vulnerability in her voice broke something in you. Gently, you wrapped your fingers around hers, careful not to move too quickly. She closed her eyes, her shoulders shaking as she leaned into your touch, the tension in her body slowly easing.

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy,” you said softly, the words meant as much for you as for her. “But we can start small. One step at a time. I’ll stay with you, as long as you’ll have me.”

Angela’s eyes opened, wide and cautious, as though the idea of someone staying, of someone caring, was too foreign to believe. Her fingers curled around yours, hesitant, but with a quiet strength.

You stayed like that, the two of you huddled in the empty silence of the apartment, until at last Angela shifted closer, resting her head against your shoulder. Her breath was shaky, her closeness warm, and you could feel her heartbeat, fragile and steady.

She spoke after a long time, her voice softer, almost shy. “I didn’t think… I’d ever feel safe. Not with anyone.”

You glanced down at her, a gentle warmth spreading in your chest. “It’s okay to feel safe with me. I’m here for you.”

Angela looked up at you, her eyes filled with something tentative, a mix of fear and longing. Carefully, she leaned forward, her forehead resting against yours, as if the contact itself was a quiet promise. You could feel the tension between you both, a cautious closeness that was neither forced nor rushed.

For a moment, you thought about kissing her, but you waited, sensing she wasn’t ready. Instead, you wrapped an arm around her shoulder, holding her in a quiet, protective embrace.

Together, you sat in the silence, letting the connection between you grow in its own time, each touch a reminder that maybe, just maybe, there was a way out of Silent Hill. A way forward that didn’t involve facing the darkness alone.

———

When you finally stood to leave, Angela took your hand, her grip a little stronger, a little surer. And as you walked into the fog, you felt the weight of Silent Hill begin to lift, replaced by the quiet comfort of having found someone who understood.

———

[yellowwithalisp]

𝙷𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 - 𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝

(So- I have never written a lemon before, or posted it. I've done Erp before but that's about it. So this is inspired by all of @lipglossanon AMAZING stories! ( Seriously- go check them out and give them lots of love!!��🌻💛) Hopefully, when SH2R comes out, there will be more James Sunderland x reader stuff put out!! 𝐏.𝐒. 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞. - Yellow 💛🌻) (Final count- 9,071 words.) ( James Sunderland x Fem!Reader! No mention of (Y/N)! ) 🖤▪ 𝙰𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗  𝙷𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚁𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝙼𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚃𝚅

They made it….. They made it out of that town… She was covered in cuts. There was a bad cut on her lip. She would grumble every now and then about it as she drove through the rain. She had one hand on the steering wheel. And the other tightly holding James's hand. Their fingers intertwined.

The car was silent all besides the rain hitting. The wipers wished the water away as James glanced over at her as she let out a small hiss of pain. James looked at her with concern as she hissed in pain. He gently squeezed her hand and turned his attention back to the road, his eyes scanning the rain-soaked surroundings. "A-are you alright? We should find a place to stop and clean those cuts," he suggested, his voice filled with worry. The light from the lamppost moved past her as they drove. "Yeah- just- stings a bit. That's all." she said. He frowned, his guilt building up as he stared at her.

Continued to hold onto her hand, offering what little comfort he could. "I'm sorry…I wish I could've protected you better," he murmured softly, his voice filled with guilt. He knew the town had taken a toll on both of them, physically and emotionally. As they drove, he kept a careful eye out for any signs of civilization where they could stop and tend to their wounds. "Let's find a motel or something. Somewhere we can rest and take care of ourselves," His heart ached at the sight of her injuries. He reached out with his free hand, gingerly brushing his fingertips over the cut on her lip. "Does it hurt a lot?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. She shook her head.

"Not real-ow-ly." she said as it started to hurt again. James slowly pulled his hand away from her lip. James frowned, his concern deepening at her response. He knew the pain was still there, even if she tried to downplay it. He felt guilt for causing her any pain. He realized his touch might have aggravated the soreness, so he turned his attention back to the road, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "I'm sorry… I should have protected you better…" he whispered above a breath. His hand trembling under hers. She glanced over at him. She took a moment to study James' face, seeing the guilt and remorse etched on his features. Her heart ached for him, knowing that he blamed himself for what had happened.

She tightened her grip on his hand, offering him a gentle smile as she looked back at the road. The rain starts to come down harder as she drives the car to the nearby town. "Hey… I ran ahead when you told me not to. it's my own fault." she said as she shrugged. The guile was still etched on James's face. James glanced at her, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and appreciation for her understanding. He nodded slowly, acknowledging her words. "I…I shouldn't have let you go alone. I should have been there to protect you. I'm just…so sorry"

He admitted, his voice filled with a deep remorse. "But… I should of done more to protect you…" He never planned on leaving that town. Not after he had gotten that letter. He fully intended on never being seen again… Then… He met her. He was simply trying to get some first aid in the store when they meet. And then he meet her, and she stayed. Even after she found out what he did to Mary and what happen. She never judge him, never yelled at him, she treated him with so much kindness. Something that he still tells himself that he didn't deserve from her.

"I… I don't think I would have ever left that town if it wasn't for you." James said as he watch her. Her eyes widen slightly as she slowly the car down at a stop light, the light reflected off of her face. "I'm sure you would of James." She started, but James cut her off. "N-No… I wouldn't. I… Never intended on leaving that town but.. Then… I meet you… You saved me…" His hand was trembling under hers as she gently squeezed it. She looked over at James with a saden look before the light turned green. A mix of emotions flooded her heart as she listened to James' words. While part of her understood his feelings of guilt and remorse, she couldn't bear to see him berate himself anymore.

She squeezed his hand again. Not being able to do much more as she drive. Her touch is soft and comforting. "James… I get that you feel responsible, but it wasn't your fault. We both made choices and… You saved yourself too," She said as she drove the car away from the stop light. They were getting closer to the nearby town where there was hopefully a hotel or inn they could stay at.

She looked ahead as they slowly entered the town. "Don't… Suppose you've been here before?" she asked as they entered the small town. James looked at her, his gaze filled with uncertainty as he looked away and out the rainy window. "No…I've haven't. Hopefully, there's a hotel or inn somewhere around here…" He mumbled, his voice almost unbearable with how hard the rain was hitting the car. James could feel the tension in the air, both from the storm raging outside and from his own inner turmoil. He desperately wanted to keep her safe, to find a place where they could rest and escape the horrors they had faced. As they turned onto the unfamiliar street, the rain continued to pour down, obscuring their vision. James strained his eyes, searching for any sign of shelter. He spotted a small inn nestled between two buildings, its neon sign flickering in the distance. "There… Try over there," he said, pointing towards it. She nodded, focusing on the road ahead as she maneuvered the car toward the inn. The tires splashed through puddles as they approached, and the headlights washed over the building, revealing a worn-out facade. She parked the car in front of the inn, and they sat in silence for a moment, their hands still clasped together.

"I hope they have a room available… It'll be nice to finally rest," she whispered, her voice tinged with exhaustion. James nodded, his heart pounding with anticipation. He couldn't wait to get out of the rain, to find temporary solace within the walls of the inn. He unbuckled his seatbelt and they both stepped out into the pouring rain.

As they stood outside the inn, raindrops cascading down their faces, James took a moment to survey their surroundings. The inn looked weathered and worn, its paint peeling and the sign flickering ominously. He instinctively tightened his grip on her hand, wanting to keep her close and safe. Without a word, they made their way toward the entrance, the sound of their footsteps mingling with the relentless downpour.

The rain soaked them within seconds, the droplets drenching their clothes and hair as they hurried towards the entrance of the inn. James pushed the heavy wooden door open, revealing a dimly lit lobby. The air was musty, the scent of old wood and dampness filling their nostrils. James led her inside, their clothes damp from the rain. The air felt heavy, filled with a sense of unease that seemed to match the town they had just escaped from. As they approached the front desk, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes looked up from her paperwork. "Welcome," she said, her voice carrying a weariness born from years of running the inn.

"Do you need a room for the night?" James nodded, his gaze fixed on the woman as he tried to hide his unease. "Yes, please," he replied softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He glanced at his companion, hoping she was okay. The woman glanced at their disheveled appearance, taking note of the cuts and bruises that adorned their bodies. There was a flicker of concern in her eyes, but she said nothing. Instead, she handed James a set of keys, her voice filled with a wearied kindness. "Room 204… it's on the second floor. Take the stairs on your right." They nodded their thanks and made their way to the staircase as the woman turned her attention back to her paperwork.

James took the keys and mumbled a small thank you to the women. Turning his head to face the other. "Let's head up and get some rest," he suggested, his voice filled with exhaustion and relief. They made their way down the dimly lit hallway, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the silence.

As they climbed the stairs, James kept a vigilant eye on their surroundings, his senses heightened by the eerie atmosphere of the town. They reached the second floor and found their room, the hallway eerily silent. James inserted the key into the door and pushed it open, the wooden floors creaking with each step. The door opened, revealing a small but cozy space, complete with a bed, a worn-out armchair, small television, and a small bathroom. James held the door open for her, gesturing for her to enter first

She walked in and dropped their bag on the floor and taking a moment to soak in their temporary sanctuary. He followed in after her and linked around for a moment. Turning to her, his eyes filled with both relief and worry. "We made it," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "We finally have a place to rest." She stepped over to him, taking in the sight of the one bed and the faint smell of cleanliness. It wasn't much, but it was a haven from the terrors they had faced. She closed the door, offering James a small, tired smile. "Yeah… we made it," she echoed softly.

Squeezing his hand gently. James felt a rush of warmth fill his chest at her words. He wanted to say so much more, to let her know just how much she meant to him, but the words remained trapped within his throat. Instead, he simply nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Let's… Hope we can get some rest. God knows we deserve it." he managed to mutter, his voice quiet as he turned as she walked around the room before taking off her wet coat. letting it fall to the floor with a damp thud.

As she slipped off her wet coat, James couldn't help but watch her every movement, his eyes lingering on her figure. The dim light of the room cast soft shadows on her damp hair, making her appear ethereal and alluring. He swallowed hard, trying to push away the thoughts that were beginning to consume his mind. He moved towards her, his steps hesitant yet determined. "Let me take care of that for you," He murmured. She blushed as she leaned down to grab the coat off the floor for him.

James reaches out to gently take the coat from her hands. His touch was lingering, and there was a slight tremor in his fingers as he carefully hung it up. He turned back to face her, his gaze fixed on her now vulnerable form. She watched him, a mixture of surprise and amusement in her eyes, as if she were silently questioning his actions. There was something captivating about the way he moved, the way his eyes seemed to study her every detail. It made her heart flutter and her skin tingle with anticipation. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Her words hung in the air between them, creating an unspoken tension that neither of them could ignore. James blushed as he moved away from her with her wet coat in hand. Attempting to regain his composure, James cleared his throat and ran a hand through his damp hair. "Uh… I'll, uh, see if there's anything we can dry off with," he stammered, his voice slightly shaky. As he stepped away, he tried to ignore the intense heat rising to his cheeks. He rummaged through his bag, searching for something to help her dry off. His hands trembled as he found a towel tucked away, and he quickly walked back to her, offering it with a slight smile. "Here, this should help," he said, his voice softer and more composed than before. She graciously accepted the towel, her eyes gleaming with gratitude as she wrapped it around her shoulders. "Thanks, James." she said, her voice filled with warmth. James flushed even more at her words, his heart fluttering in his chest. Attempting to shift the focus away from himself, James glanced around the room, looking for anything else that could be of use.

"I, uh, think there might be some spare blankets in the closet if you get cold," he suggested, his gaze avoiding hers. "Or, um, maybe I could, um, turn up the heat if you'd like." She chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. "How about you help change my bandaids first." she said as James face turned bright red, his breath hitched, heart pounding in his chest. He swallowed hard, trying to steady himself as he mustered a small. "Y… Yeah. I-I can help with that." James nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached into his bag, fumbling for the first aid kit he had packed. His hands trembled as he pulled out the necessary supplies, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Just… Just sit down and let me take care of you," he mumbled, his voice filled with a mix of nervousness and determination. She complied, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as James sat down behind her. He started to ask where the injury was when he felt his body froze as he watched her strip her wet shirt off of her body. His eyes followed a bit as she tosses it onto the floor. "Sorry, it's under my bra." she said as she still has the bra on. But held up buts if the blanket up to her chest just in case. Sweat quickly formed on James's forehead as he swallowed hard. "It…. It's ok…" He said weakly. James felt his heart racing, his cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. He tried to keep his gaze focused on her injury, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from her exposed skin. It took all of his willpower to maintain his composure and avoid making his attraction apparent. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of control over his thoughts.

"I…I'll be gentle, I promise," he managed to murmur, his voice lingering with a hint of nervousness. James carefully reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he gingerly lifted the edge of her bra, exposing the injured area. His touch was light and delicate, his focus solely on tending to her wounds. He fought against the overwhelming urge to let his fingers linger, to explore every inch of her exposed skin. Instead, he focused on cleaning the cut, his breath hitching at the close proximity between them. "how bad is it?" She asked as James took out the fresh bandaids and took a moment to inspect the wound, his eyes studying the cut with a mix of concern and focus.

He wanted to reassure her, to let her know that it wasn't too severe, but a part of him couldn't help but be captivated by the sight of her vulnerability. He cleared his throat, his voice slightly shaky as he responded. "It's… it's not too deep. It should heal fairly quickly," he replied, his tone soft and comforting. "But I'll make sure to clean it thoroughly and put a fresh bandaid on." he said as he looked at her bare skin and then over at her. He carefully began cleaning the area, his touch gentle yet purposeful. As he pressed the bandaid against her skin, his skin brushed against hers for a brief moment, sending a jolt through his body.

He quickly pulled his hand away, swallowing hard as he tried to maintain his composure. "There… all done," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. She nods as she reached back and reattaches her bra. "Thanks." she said as she turned to look back at James. His eyes lingering on her cut lip. "L… Let's take…. Of your lip next." he mumbled. Her eyes widen slightly as one her hands reached up and gently touched her cut lip. "Oh yeah… I forgot about that…" James couldn't tear his gaze away from her injured lip, his concern evident in his eyes. He reached into the first aid kit once again, his hands slightly more steady this time. As he retrieved the necessary supplies, his focus remained fixed on her, his desire to mend her wounds overpowering his own trepidation. "Here," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "let me take care of it."

He carefully approached her, his touch feather-light as he gently cleaned the cut. Each brush of his fingers against her skin sent a ripple of electricity through his body, and he fought to remain composed. Once he had finished cleaning the wound, he applied a small amount of ointment and placed a fresh bandage over it. "There," he said softly, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he lowered his gaze. "All better." She watched him intently as he tended to her. "Thanks… Again James" She said with a soft smile. Her eyes started into his green eyes. James could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the heat of desire coursing through his veins.

He bit his lip, his mind battling with his desires. Wanting to both follow his heart and protect her from his own hidden desires. "I… I should probably go clean up. The rain made quite a mess of me," he stammered, his voice slightly shaky. She blinked, slowly nodding her head. "Sure, but don't think I didn't see you get hurt as well. On your back. She said as she turned on his wet shirt. "Strip. Let me take a look at it."

James blinked in surprise, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson at her request. He shifted uncomfortably, his hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I… uh… it's not as bad as it looks. Just a scrape," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes flickered towards her, she was giving him the look as she had her hand held out for his shirt. Hesitant, he slowly began to unbutton his shirt, his movements careful and deliberate. As the fabric fell away, revealing his bare chest. She looked at him for a moment… Then two… Then three.

Before quickly blocking and shaking her bead lightly. "Ah-you can- turn around so that I can look at the cuts."James blinked in surprise, flustered by her sudden change of demeanor. He quickly turned around, his face burning with embarrassment as he faced away from her. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, unsure of how to navigate this newfound intimacy. He could feel her presence behind him, her gaze fixed on his back, and it only served to heighten his nervousness. James tried to steady his breathing, reminding himself to keep his composure. "Just… just let me know if you need me to do anything," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists. Time seemed to slow down as he waited for her to examine his wounds, his mind a jumble of anticipation and longing.

She hummed as she gently placed one of her hands on his back. Her hand… It was so warm…. "It doesn't look too bad… Still, I'm gonna clean it and change out the bandaid on it." she said as she placed her other hand on his lower back. James shivered slightly at her touch, his body tensing as her warm hands made contact with his back. Her presence so close to him was both electrifying and terrifying, stirring a mixture of desire and anxiety within him. He breathed deeply, trying to steady himself as her gentle touch sent a wave of warmth through him. "Th-Thank you," he managed to stammer, his voice slightly shaky. He closed his eyes, his body relaxing under her care. It felt oddly comforting to have someone tend to his wounds in such an intimate manner. He listened to the sound of her soft of her move around on the bed, retrieving the necessary supplies. James tried to suppress the rapid beating of his heart, his mind flooded with thoughts of what could happen next. But he was careful not to let those thoughts show, keeping his expression neutral and his emotions hidden. As she began to clean his wound, her touch was gentle, her movements precise. The sting of the antiseptic caused James to flinch, a shudder running through his body. But he fought to remain still, to let her do what she needed to do. He could feel her breath against his back, her quiet concentration filling the air. The small gasp that escaped her lips when she saw the extent of the injury only fueled his desire, awakening a simmering passion within him.

"This… Will sting a bit." she said before cleaning the cuts. James winced at her words, preparing himself for the stinging sensation that was sure to follow. He bit his lip, trying to suppress any sounds of discomfort. His mind, however, was consumed by a mixture of pain and pleasure. Each touch of the antiseptic brought forth a symphony of conflicting emotions within him, a bittersweet reminder of the complexity of his desires.

As her delicate fingers gently cleaned his wounds, he could feel the tension in his body slowly melt away. The pain was overshadowed by the intimate connection they were sharing, igniting a fire deep within his being. "Their healing well. I need you to tell me if they hurt or start to open up again ok?" she told him. He couldn't help but steal glances at her, taking in the concentrated expression on her face as she worked. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of concern, her care evident in every movement. It was in moments like this that James felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude for her presence in his life, even if it they only meet a few days ago. The way she attended to his needs, both physical and emotional, stirred something within him that he couldn't quite put into words. Finally, she finished cleaning his wounds, carefully placing fresh bandages over them. James let out a soft breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He turned around to face her, his eyes locking with hers. There was a mixture of vulnerability and desire in his gaze, a silent invitation for something more. "Thank you… for taking care of me," he repeated, his voice filled with a longing he dared not fully express. She smiled as she gently rubbed his back. "You did the same for me James."James felt a surge of warmth flood through him, his heart skipping a beat at her words.

He couldn't help but let a small smile grace his lips, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "I… I'm glad I could be here for you," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "You mean a lot to me… more than you probably realize." His hand reached out, hesitating for a moment before cupping her cheek gently, his thumb stroking her skin softly. The tenderness in his touch was almost overwhelming to him. She watched him before smirking. "Wow James, why does it seem like your almost sad that my hands are no longer on your back?" she teased him as his face turned red. James's face flushed with embarrassment, his eyes widening in surprise at her teasing remark. He tried to hide his nervousness with a forced chuckle, but the rosy hue on his cheeks betrayed his true feelings. "I… uh… well, it's not like I didn't appreciate your touch," he stammered, his voice laced with a mixture of sheepishness and genuine longing. "I just… I guess I got used to it… and it felt… nice." He averted his gaze, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. It was rare for James to let his guard down, to openly show his vulnerability and desire. But with her, it was different. She had a way of teasing him that made him both uncomfortable and exhilarated, stoking a fire within him that he couldn't quite quell. "So… um… what now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do you want to do next?" His heart raced in his chest as he looked at her, hoping that she would give him some indication, some clue as to where this newfound intimacy would lead. A small smirk formed on her face. "Would you like me to keep touching you? Or are you gonna go take that shower?"James's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening at her suggestive words. He felt a surge of desire course through him, his body responding instinctively. His voice came out as a hoarse whisper as he replied, "I… I think a shower… would be a good idea." He couldn't deny his longing for her touch, but the need to cleanse himself and find a moment of solitude to gather his thoughts was overwhelming. He stepped back slightly, his hand lingering on her cheek before he reluctantly withdrew it. "But… maybe later, we could… continue where we left off?" he proposed, his voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. She nodded, slowly getting off if the bed. "I'll take one after you. I'm going to get out of the rest of these wet clothes."

James's breath hitched, his body trembling with a mixture of desire and nervousness. The longing that consumed him. With a hesitant smile, he nodded and turned towards the bathroom, walking away but feeling her gaze linger on him. The door closed behind him, and he sunk to the floor, the cool tiles against his bare skin soothing his racing heart. He allowed himself a moment of solitude, his mind filled with thoughts of her and the possibilities that lay ahead.

As the warm water cascaded over his body, James let out a long sigh, feeling the tension melt away with each drop. The steam filled the bathroom, creating a sense of intimacy and tranquility. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander, the image of her delicate touch still fresh in his memory. It was a bittersweet sensation, a mixture of desire and longing. '𝘐… ���𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳…' He could feel his length starting to twitch, starting to come alive as he gently wrapped one of his hands around it. '𝘐… 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢….' He couldn't deny the fire that burned within him, the hunger that yearned to be satisfied. Slowly, his other hands roamed over his body, slick with water and desire. He explored every inch of his own skin, his touch firm and loving, imagining that it was her hands caressing him instead. '𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘰��𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳..'

James's breath hitched as his hand traveled lower, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of his length, his mind filled with visions of her. His thoughts became consumed by fantasies of their bodies entwined, aching for the connection that he craved. He could feel his length starting to throb the visions of her in his mind made it pulse.

'𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦…' The water amplified the sensations, the slickness allowing him to glide his hand over himself with ease. His breaths became shallow, his pace quickening as his desire mounted. '𝘐-𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳…' With a shuddering gasp, James succumbed to his carnal needs, pleasure washing over him like a tidal wave. He leaned against the tiled wall, his body trembling as he rode the waves of satisfaction. '𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳… 𝘈𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦…'

His mind was filled with her image, her touch, her essence intermingled with his own. "𝘏-𝘩𝘩𝘢𝘢…" He couldn't help but let out a deep, primal moan. The sound bounced off the bathroom walls, mingling with the rush of water and steam. His body convulsed with each wave of ecstasy, his muscles tensing and relaxing as pleasure coursed through his veins. His mind was consumed by the image of her, her soft lips and delicate touch. He imagined her hands caressing his length, her fingers dancing along every inch, driving him further into a state of euphoria. The intensity of his pleasure heightened, causing his breathing to become erratic and his grip on himself to tighten. As James's pleasure built, his moans grew more desperate, the sound echoing through the bathroom. '𝘍-𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬…' He could feel his body tensing, his muscles coiling with anticipation. With each stroke of his hand, the pleasure intensified, a delicious friction igniting his nerves. His mind was overtaken by fantasies of her, his imagination running wild with the images of their bodies intertwined. He could imagine the softness of her lips on his skin, her warm breath ghosting over him. He could almost feel the press of her body against his, her hands exploring every inch of him.

He let out a guttural cry, his body shuddering as he rode the waves of ecstasy. His release spilled over his hand, mixing with the water. His seed spilled over his hand and mixed with the water, carried away by the steady stream. As his body came down from its orgasmic high, James leaned against the wall, his chest heaving, his mind hazy with satisfaction. The sound of his own heavy breaths mingled with the steady flow of water, creating an intimate soundtrack for his post-orgasmic bliss. He took a moment to catch his breath, relishing in the daze of pleasure that enveloped him.

As James slowly regained his composure, he slowly pushed himself off of the wall and turned off the shower, his mind still clouded with the vivid images of his fantasies. He reached for the towel, wrapping it around his waist, the fabric warm against his skin. His body was still humming with the remnants of pleasure, a lingering reminder of the ecstasy he had just experienced. Stepped out of the shower, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He couldn't help but feel a pang of anticipation, knowing that soon he would be able to share his desires with her, hopefully…

ʚ🌻ɞ

"… I hope he's ok." She mumbled as she looked over at the closed bathroom door. The old Tv playing in the background. She had changed into a tank top and shorts. With most of her body under the blankets. "He's sure is taking his time in the shower…" James emerged from the bathroom, the towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp, droplets of water clinging to his skin. He glanced over at Ava, a mixture of nerves and desire swirling in his eyes. "Sorry for taking so long," he said, his voice slightly shaky. "I… needed a moment to myself." He walked towards the bed and over to where his bag was. She watches him walk by here. Having a bit of a hard time keeping her eyes from looking lower at him. She watched some water run down his body and blushed a bit. "Everything ok? None of your injuries opened up, did they?"

James turned to face her, his expression a mix of relief and uncertainty. "No, nothing like that. I'm fine, physically at least," he replied, his voice still trembling slightly. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes meeting hers. "I just… needed a moment to collect myself. This… all of this is so new to me," he admitted, his voice filled with a touch of vulnerability. "But being with you… it feels right." He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She blushed as she closed her eye. Feeling the warmth of his hand against him. "Well, since your down now. I'll go take me shower real quick." She said as she opened her eyes.

James nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Y-yeah, sure. Take your time," he replied, his voice filled with understanding. He watched as her gracefully got off the bed, a wave of desire coursing through him as he caught a glimpse of her in her tank top and shorts. As she walked towards the bathroom, he couldn't help but appreciate the way her body moved, the gentle sway of her hips captivating his attention. His desire for her only intensified as he imagined the water cascading over her naked form, her body glistening under the steam. James couldn't help but feel a tinge of impatience, his hands clenching involuntarily as his anticipation grew.

As the bathroom door closed behind her, he let out a shaky breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He knew that they had much to explore together, and the mere thought of it sent a jolt of excitement through his veins. He opened his clothing bag and quickly rummaged through it, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of what lay ahead. He slipped on a fresh pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt, his movements quick and efficient. As he gathered his damp clothes and folded them neatly, he couldn't help but hear the soft sound of running water in the background, a reminder of her presence just a few feet away. His body responded instinctually, a familiar ache building deep within him. He took a deep breath, reminding himself to keep his desires in check. There would be time for that later, once they were both sated and ready. With a gentle sigh, James finished organizing his belongings and sat at the edge of the bed, glancing at the closed bathroom door with a mixture of anticipation and longing. He get dress, trying to take his mind off of it… It failed.

Warm droplets caressed her skin, offering solace and comfort. The steam enveloped her, creating a veil of privacy within the enclosed space. She closed her eyes, letting the water cascade over her body, massaging away any lingering tension. She couldn't help but think about James, his presence still lingering in the room. When he was helping her change her bandagies… His hands were so soft..m and worm. He was so nice to her. Making sure that she was ok before he did anything…and back in the town, he did everything he could to protect her.

The anticipation of their intimate encounter sent shivers down her spine, her body responding to the thought of his touch. Her hands instinctively traced the curves of her body, gliding over her skin with a sensuality that matched her growing desire. The water intensified the sensations, making her skin slick and responsive to her every movement. Her fingertips trailed down her neck, across the swell of her breasts, and further down, exploring the depths of her own desires. She imagined James's hands upon her, his touch gentle yet commanding. Every stroke and caress mirrored the images in her mind, heightening the pleasure that coursed through her veins.

Slowly, she let her fingers slip between her thighs, a gasp escaping her lips as she felt the warmth and wetness that awaited her. Imagining James being there with her, his voice husky with desire, she played with herself.

"𝘐-𝘐… 𝘏𝘢𝘢𝘢… 𝘊-𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘐'𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴…" She mumbled. The steam rose around her, creating an atmosphere of seduction and surrender. She let herself succumb to the growing pleasure, her moans becoming lost in the symphony of the water and her own desire. She lost track of time, lost in the depths of her fantasies, until finally, with a shuddering gasp, she reached the pinnacle of her pleasure, her body convulsing with the force of her release. The water washed away the remnants of her passion, leaving her trembling as she turned off the shower, a sense of satisfaction washed over her. She wrapped a towel around her body, drying herself off as she stepped out of the shower. Putting on her fresh cloths…. She was not going to tell James about this…What would he say if he knew she had thought about him like that? She nervously finished getting dressed and opened the bathroom door. "H-hey." She said softly.

James's breath hitched as he saw her emerge from the bathroom. His gaze traveled over her, taking in every curve and contour. He could still smell the lingering scent of shower gel and steam clinging to her skin, adding to her allure. "H-hey," he stammered, his voice thick with desire. She walked over to him and sat down next to him on the bed. "… We can finally breath huh?" She said with a soft chuckle. Moving her hand to hold his. "We're finally safe…"

James felt a sense of relief wash over him as he intertwined his fingers with her's, her touch grounding him in the present moment. He looked into her eyes, seeing the warmth and understanding reflected back at him. "Yeah, it feels… good to finally be safe," he replied, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. He squeezed her hand gently, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you… for being here with me. For understanding and accepting me, flaws and all," he whispered, his voice laced with sincerity. She chuckled as she closed her eye. "Your acting like I did nothing wrong." James rubbed his thumb against her hand. "You were told what I did and… You still state with me.. And helped me fight those monsters." She was quiet for a moment before looking over at him. "James… When I saw you getting into your car… That look on your face… You weren't going to leave town, were you? Where…. You going to drive your car into the river?"

James froze, his heart pounding in his chest at the directness of her question. He had been hoping to keep that part of his thoughts locked away, buried in the depths of his shame. But there was no escaping her intuition, her ability to see through his facade. He took a deep breath, his eyes downcast as he mustered the courage to respond. "I… I can't lie to you." he admitted, his voice wavering slightly. "In that moment, the despair was overwhelming. I thought about it… driving my car into the river. Ending it all." His grip on her hand tightened, a mixture of fear and vulnerability flickering in his eyes.

Her heart sank at James's confession. She had suspected it, but hearing him say it out loud was still painful. She squeezed his hand tighter, her fingers lacing with his. "James… I'm so sorry you had to go through that," she whispered softly, her voice filled with empathy. "But I'm glad you didn't do it. I'm glad you let me drag your ass over to my car and get in with me.."

James's eyes welled with tears as her words washed over him. He let out a shaky breath, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love wash over him. "Thank… You" he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you for saving me, for giving me a reason to keep going. You… you stopped me from making the biggest mistake of my life." He turned his head slightly, capturing her lips in a desperate kiss. They broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other, their breaths mingling. "I don't know what I did to deserve you," James admitted, a smile tugging at his lips. "But I'm not letting you go. Not for anything."

She smiled as his with a soft chuckle. "Good, I would hope not" She said as she rest her forehead against his. "So… About finishing where we left off…" she sat with her legs crossed a she looked at James's eyes widening in surprise. He struggled to find his voice, torn between his desire for her touch and his fear of crossing a line. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts and emotions, uncertainty and longing intertwining within him. Finally, he managed to stammer out a response, his voice barely audible. "I… uh… yes," he whispered, his cheeks flushed with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. "If… if you're comfortable with it… I would like that." He cast his gaze downwards, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. Despite his attempts to hide it, the longing in his eyes was unmistakable, baring his vulnerable desires to her. He hoped she wouldn't reject him, wouldn't push him away. He yearned for her touch, for the intimacy that it promised. In this fleeting moment, he allowed himself to surrender to the desires that lay dormant within him, eager to explore the depths of his longing with her by his side.

"Your… Really attractive.." The room filled with the heavy with desire and pleasure as they explored each other's bodies with a hunger that couldn't be ignored. "S-same… Could be said for you…" James said as her green eyes looked into hers. She responded by rolling her eyes. "Same could not be said because I'm not attractive." she said. James couldn't help but feel a rush of desire and affection for her. He wanted to show her just how attractive she was to him, both inside and out. His hands moved gently along her curves, tracing every contour as he whispered softly in her ear.

"Don't say that," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine sincerity. "Your beautiful." He gently brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "I… Find you incredibly attractive, in more ways than one. I-I'm…. Drawn to you." His voice was filled with a mixture of sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. As he spoke, a faint blush tinted his cheeks, his own insecurities bubbling to the surface. He had never been good at expressing his feelings, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

But he couldn't help but want to reassure her of her own beauty. She blinked, seemingly taken aback by his words. Her eyes softened, and a small smile played upon her lips. "You really think so?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of vulnerability. James nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Absolutely…. P-please believe me when I say that you are truly…. Breathtaking to me."

As their lips moved against each other, their bodies gravitated towards each other, their hands seeking out the familiar contours and curves. With each touch, their passion ignited, the intensity growing with every fiery caress. Their clothes became little more than barriers, mere obstacles to their escalating desire. James's hands hesitantly trailed along the soft fabric of her clothes, his fingers craving to feel the warmth and softness beneath.

With an unspoken understanding, she pulled away from the kiss, her eyes filled with a mixture of desire and anticipation. She took his hand, guiding it to the hem of her top, silently inviting him to explore further. James's hands trembled slightly as he touched her skin, his fingertips slowly inching upwards, tracing the curves of her body. The softness of her skin mesmerized him, igniting a fire within him that he could no longer contain.

His lips hungrily sought hers once again, as if he couldn't get enough of her taste. Their tongues danced in a passionate duet, sharing the depths of their desire. His hands grew bolder, and her eyes widen for a split second as she let out a small hiss. James quickly pulled away as he looked at her with worry in his eyes. "I-I'm fine.. Just a bit sore on my back from the cuts." She tried to give him a reassuring smile.

James's worry melted away slightly as he listened to her reassurances, a small sigh of relief escaping him. He didn't want to cause her any harm or discomfort, and the thought of hurting her made him uneasy. Cupping her face, he gazed into her eyes, searching for any signs of pain or discomfort. "Are… You sure you're okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "I don't want to hurt you. If-If it's too much, we can stop-"

She leaned into his touch, a gentle smile gracing her lips. "I'm fine," she murmured, her voice filled with warmth. "I promise, I'm okay. I want this…. I want 𝘺𝘰𝘶." Her words ignited a flicker of desire within him, banishing his worries and filling him with a newfound determination. He nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and longing. "O… Okay," he breathed, his voice laced with anticipation

Their bodies pressed against one another once again, the heat and passion between them intensifying with each passing moment. James's hands explored her curves, his touch becoming more confident and sure.

"𝘑-𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴…" She whimpered out his name.

He trailed soft, lingering kisses along her neck, his lips sending shivers down her spine. His hands traveled lower, tracing the contours of her waist before finding their way to the button of her shorts. He glanced up at her, seeking her approval before proceeding.

"𝘊…. 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘐-𝘐?" His voice was barely above a whisper as she silently gave him permission to continue. His hands deftly undid the button and zipper, peeling her shorts down her legs with a gentle urgency. His breath hitched as he caught sight of her exposed skin, his mind drowning in a sea of desire.

As he knelt before her, his fingertips grazed her thighs, his touch featherlight and tantalizing. He pressed soft kisses along the inside of her leg, relishing in the taste and scent of her skin. Slowly, he parted her thighs, and her legs trembled as she blushed, feeling his gaze on her. "𝘕𝘯𝘨𝘩…" His tongue glided over her with a reverent touch. The exquisite sensation made her gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, the sight of her bare skin driving him wild with need. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly trailed his fingers up her inner thighs, relishing in the softness and warmth of her skin.

She let out a whimper, her body trembling with anticipation. James moved closer, his lips ghosting over her thigh, his touch teasing and taunting her. He wanted to savor every moment, to make her crave his touch just as much as he craved hers.

With a sudden surge of confidence, James pressed a gentle kiss against her most intimate place, his tongue darting out to taste her. She gasped, her back arching in response to the pleasure that coursed through her. James's hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he continued to explore her with his tongue, his movements growing more fervent and desperate. James could feel himself growing harder as he explored her lower lips with his tongue. "𝘠𝘰-𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦… 𝘚𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥…" He mumbled. He could feel his cock starting to throb in his pants as he softly moaned. Steering back to life. Images from his time in the shower came back as his tongue moved deeper into her.

He continued to lavish her with his tongue, feeling her legs twitch as his tongue moved. He glanced up to see her tightly griping the blanket of the hotel bed. He could hear his own heavy breathing mixing with hers and feel the throbbing, insistent need in his own body. The erotic taste and intoxicating scent of her arousal filled his senses, driving him to the edge of desire. "𝘐… 𝘐-𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵… 𝘈-𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.."

Unable to resist any longer, James pulled away, his eyes burning with hunger and need. He scoot back a bit on the bed as she pushed herself up a bit into a sitting position. His hands fumbled with his own pants. "𝘐… 𝘐-𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥…" The bulge in his pants was desperate to be free from the restraints of clothing. The urgency hung heavy in the air as he finally pushed his pants down, his hardened length sprang free. She reached up and help him get his shirt off as she kissed his neck. James swallowed as he looked back up at her. One of his hands was around his length as it twitched, waiting for her to give him the ok to go on. She whimpered as she was still feeling the effect of his tongue that was in her, but nod her head at him. With a moment of hesitation, he moved forward and positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock brushing against her slick folds. James's breath hitched at the exquisite sensation, his body trembling with anticipation. "𝘍-𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬… 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴-" Her body trembled under him.

With a controlled urgency, James slowly pushed himself into her, his length sinking deep within her velvety warmth. He groaned in pleasure as he felt the delicious tightness enveloping him, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his body. "𝘑-𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵… 𝘕𝘨𝘩… 𝘈-𝘈 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦…." Their bodies became one, their connection raw and intoxicating. She gasped and arched her back, her hands instinctively gripping the sheets as James filled her completely. The feeling of him stretching her, filling her to her core. "𝘍-𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬.. 𝘚-𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘨…" Her walls clenched around him, squeezing him tightly as they adjusted to the intimate intrusion. "𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴-" "𝘋-𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦 𝘴… 𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵-" His movements were slow and deliberate, allowing her to adjust to his presence. He pulled back, his cock sliding almost all the way out before he plunged back in, a low groan escaping his lips. "𝘚…. 𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮… 𝘈-𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵… 𝘐-𝘪𝘵'𝘴… 𝘚𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯-" He slowly started to move after giving her time to adjust to his length deep within her. The rhythm they established was gentle yet unrestrained. "𝘐'𝘮… 𝘎𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳… 𝘖𝘬?" James's name fell from her lips in breathless cries as he started to thrust into her. His hands gripped her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as he thrust deeper into her, his movements growing more urgent with each passing moment. "𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮-" He could feel her inner muscles clenching around him, pulsating with desire and need. The pace of their breaths quickened as his thrust quickened.

James's hands roamed over her body, exploring every curve and dip, the sensations driving him mad with desire. His lips found hers once again, their mouths melding in a passionate embrace, their moans muffled in each other's kiss. The room was filled with the sound of their panting breaths and their bodies colliding. James could feel the tension building within him, the coil of pleasure winding tighter until he was on the precipice of release. His movements became more urgent, his thrusts growing harder and faster as they both hurtled towards the peak of ecstasy. He could feel her walls clenching around him, her cries of pleasure becoming louder and more urgent. With one final, powerful thrust, James let go, his body convulsing as he found release within her. His climax sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She moaned his name, her voice filled with ecstasy as she clung to him, her nails digging into his back. Making James moan out her name as well as he close his eyes tight The room filled with their muffled moans and breathless sounds.

James collapsed onto the bed beside her, his breath heavy and labored. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close as they both caught their breath. A sheen of sweat covers their bodies. She slowly took her nails off of his back and wrapped her arms around him. His touch was gentle and loving, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her bare skin. "𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶." he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and adoration.

She smiled softly, snuggling closer to him, her body still tingling with the remnants of their passion. "𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰." she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed her eyes, feeling his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin. Her eyes slowly closed as she fell asleep in his arms. James held her in his arms, feeling a sense of peace wash over him as he watched her drift off to sleep. His heart felt lighter, the weight of his guilt momentarily lifted. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, whispering softly, "I love you…." The room fell into a calm silence, the only sound the steady rhythm of their breaths.

ʚ🌻ɞ

As they approached the front desk, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes looked up from her paperwork. "You two look better." She said as James handed her back the keys to the room. James gave the woman a weak smile, his hand still intertwined with his lover's. "Yeah… We're doing okay," he replied, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and weariness. "Thank you for your help earlier." The woman nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "No problem, hon. I'm just glad I could be of assistance." She glanced down at the keys in her hand before she turned to put the keys away with the rest. "I hope you two find some peace… and happiness. Life can be tough sometimes, but it's important to hold onto the things that make us feel alive." James's grip on his lover's hand tightened, and he nodded, a flicker of determination in his eyes. "You're right… We'll… We'll find our way." He turned to leave, but before he stepped out the door, he cast one last glance at the woman. "Thanks again. Take care." With that, James and his lover walked out of the hotel. Heading to his lovers car. "So.. Back to my please?" She asked him as she gently squeezed his hand. James looked at his lover with a soft smile, his eyes filled with affection. "Yeah, let's go back to your place," he replied, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on her lips. The touch of her lips against his brought warmth to his heart, a sense of warmth, comfort, and belonging that had been dead for three cold years.

[thewritersaddictions]

Silent Hill 2 Remake Master List

James Sunderland: Warning (Coming Soon)

Maria (Coming Soon)

Prymaid Head (Coming Soon)

Completed on: 11/30/24

Posted on: 11/30/24

[stereotypical-day]

Chapter 1: The Outskirts of Town

Nina gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white as she sped down the empty road, her green eyes fixed ahead. The gas pedal pressed firmly under her foot mirrored the urgency that burned within her. Silent Hill. That damn town had haunted her dreams for a very long time, pulling her back with an unexplainable force. She didn’t know what she was searching for—peace, forgiveness, maybe even herself—but she had to go. 

The last time she’d visited, it was idyllic. A weekend by the lake with her mother, exploring legends and feeling, if only briefly, whole. Now, memories of that peaceful time clashed with the chaos in her mind as the town loomed closer. 

The tunnel leading in was blocked. Too late, Nina slammed on the brakes, tires screeching as the car came to a halt mere inch from a concrete wall. She exhaled sharply; her heart unfazed by the near collision. 

Stepping out of the car, she adjusted her belt bag, her outfit catching the sun: a cropped leather jacket, black skinny jeans, and thick-heeled boots. Her doll-like features—soft porcelain skin, full lips, and striking green eyes framed by styled brows—masked the storm inside her. She walked with purpose, though her mind pulsed with a dull headache. 

Nearby, a man leaned against a fence, watching her. The screeching of the car's tires had pulled him out of his thoughts, and now his gaze lingered on her. He looked ordinary enough, but something about his silent stare made her uneasy. 

“Hey,” he called out as she glanced at a “Toluca Lake” sign, her gaze distant. “You’re not from around here, are you?” 

She turned; her tone cold. “Obviously.” 

The man hesitated, his shoulders hunching slightly. "Right.”, he replied shortly. 

She studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. “Do you know why the road’s blocked?” 

“Not sure,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It wasn’t like this before. But, um, maybe there’s another way through.” 

Her attention shifted to a narrow, overgrown trail leading toward the water. Without a word, she started walking down the stairs. 

“Wait!” the man called, hurrying after her. “You’re going in there? Alone?” 

She stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Why not?” 

His mouth opened, then closed as if reconsidering his words. Finally, he said, “The path looks a little sketchy. Besides, I’m heading in the same direction. We could go together, if that’s okay.” 

Nina’s eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at him. His demeanor was cautious, almost timid, but there was something earnest in his offer. “Fine,” she said, turning back to the trail. 

The path was slick with mud, the fog growing denser with every step. Nina struggled in the terrain as her heels caked in mud, slowing her down, but she didn’t complain. The silence stretched until the man spoke again. 

“I didn’t catch your name,” he said quietly. 

“Nina.” 

“James,” he replied, his voice soft. “So, um, what brings you here, Nina?” 

She hesitated; her gaze fixed ahead. “Not sure. Something I lost, I guess.” 

He nodded, as if her answer made perfect sense. “I’m, uh... looking for my wife. Got a letter from her. She said she’s waiting for me here.”  

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, slightly worn photo, holding it out for her to see. “Her name’s Mary. Have you seen her, by any chance?” His words were tentative, like he wasn’t sure he believed them himself. 

“Your wife?” Nina repeated, glancing at him than at the photo he was holding out for her “Lucky you, she looks stunning”, she grinned for a moment before she looked away continuing to stare ahead. “No, I haven’t seen her.”  

He rubbed his neck again, avoiding her gaze. “Thanks, I-I don’t know why she might be here, I got this letter saying she was waiting for me... In our special place” 

“Did you get a divorce or what?”, Nina asked bluntly. But there was no malice in her tone, only a faint undercurrent of curiosity as she glanced down at his right hand. He wasn’t wearing a ring on his finger.  

“No, I-uh... she- she died three years ago”, James said hesitantly his voice trailing off. Nina shot him a questioning look.  

“What do you mean she died?”, she looked at him as if he was crazy.  

“I know how it sounds... it’s just- I guess I just wanted to see her again, so I came here”, he tried to justify himself even though he knew how illogical that sounded, but his feelings of wanting to see Mary alive again were stronger than any logic.  

“You’re aware that anyone could’ve sent that letter, right?”, Nina challenged him once again questioning his actions.  

“I know”, he said simply, “But I guess it doesn’t matter to me”, he sighed.  

“Fair enough”, Nina looked away, her interest for him declining again as she folded her arms across her chest.  

The path led them to an iron gate opening into a graveyard. The fog was so thick it muffled even their footsteps. Gravestones stood like quiet watchers. As they walked through, Nina caught her breath. A figure crouched by a gravestone, still and unsettling. 

James’ hope started rising. Mary? Could that be her. He shifted closer to a figure, his heart beating loud in his chest. It’s her, isn’t it? Nina followed carefully behind him her steps small and deliberate.  

As they approached, the figure came into view: a young girl, barely older than a teenager, her face pale and intent on the gravestone before her. 

James approached her from behind and placed his hand lightly on her shoulder, saying, “Excuse me.”  

The girl jumped, terrified, gasping sharply as she turned to face James. It wasn’t Mary. His face dropped in disappointment. 

“I’m sorry, I—I was just...” she replied, startled and at a loss for words. She was wearing a grey turtleneck and brown pants, with sneakers on her feet.  

“Hey, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you,” James said, trying to comfort her. 

“I’m—well...” He quickly glanced at Nina, who was standing behind him. “We’re kind of lost.”  

“Lost?” the girl questioned, furrowing her eyebrows.  

“Yeah, we’re looking for Silent Hill. Is this the right way?” James continued. 

“Um, yeah,” she replied, relaxing a little. “It’s hard to see with this fog, but there’s only one road. You can’t miss it.”  

“Thanks,” James said, turning away to leave. Nina gave the girl a small, tight-lipped smile before turning to follow James.  

“But...” the girl called out again, causing them to turn around. “I think you should stay away.”  

“This—this town... There’s something wrong with it?” she continued hesitantly. “And it’s not just the fog, either.” She looked at them as if she feared something.  

James furrowed his brows. “Is it dangerous?” he asked, looking straight into her eyes.  

“Maybe,” she replied, glancing around. “It’s kind of hard to explain, but...”  

“I’ll be careful,” James interrupted, waving his hand as he turned to leave.  

“I’m not lying!” the girl suddenly raised her voice.  

“No, I believe you. It’s just...” James turned to look at her, “I guess I don’t really care if it’s dangerous or not. I’m going either way.”  

Nina stood there beside him quietly, not commenting on the conversation. She thought to herself, how could it be dangerous? Who was this girl? But she decided to stick with James.  

“But why?” the girl asked.  

“I’m looking for... someone,” James told her. “Someone very important to me.”  

“Me too,” the girl replied, nodding her head. “I’m looking for my mama—I mean my mother. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her.” She added, looking as if she were lost in thought.  

“I thought my father and brother were here. But I can’t find them either.” She turned away, looking at the gravestones again, her voice trailing off. 

“I’m sorry, it’s not your problem,” she said apologetically to James.  

“No, I...” James started, “I hope you find them,” he said. 

“Me too,” Nina added, giving a quick smile to the girl.  

“Yeah, you too,” the girl replied.  

They turned away and left her behind, continuing on their path. Nina quickly spotted the small, muddy trail the girl had mentioned, leading out of the cemetery through an iron gate. Thick fog enveloped the area, adding to the eerie atmosphere.  

James took out his map and studied it for a few moments. “It’s this way, right?” Nina asked, looking at him.  

“Yes, let’s go through this gate and head toward the ranch,” he replied.  

As they approached the gate, Nina felt the heavy energy of the place weighing on her, different from when she visited with her mom.  

The fog thickened as they neared “Silent Hill Ranch,” where the trail became muddier and time felt stagnant. Abandoned cars and desolate fields surrounded them.  

“This place gives me a weird feeling. Did you hear what she said about it being dangerous?” Nina remarked, looking around. James glanced at his map again, frowning.  

When Nina tried to open the gate but found it locked, he said, “I think we need a key.”  

“Let’s look around for something to open it,” she suggested. 

Nina released the door and glanced around as James headed toward the open gate of an auto mechanic workshop.  

Inside, they soon encountered another locked door. James groaned in frustration and noticed Nina holding a note attached to the wall.  

“Went to town to get the window fixed. Spare keys in the drawer,” she read.  

“Let’s look around; maybe someone is nearby,” James suggested. She tucked the note into her pocket, and they explored the building.  

“Hello?! Is anyone here?!” James called out. They made their way to the broken window mentioned in the note. James jumped inside and looked back at her as she climbed through after him.  

Inside, the workshop was dark, and Nina shivered, moving closer to James.  

“It should be in the drawer,” James mumbled, opening it to find a key with an “Auto Parts” keychain.  

“Here. Let's go,” he said, opening the previously locked door. Stepping outside, they squinted against the brightness, entering the fog. They approached the exit of the ranch part of town, and James checked the map.  

He noted to go straight and then left onto Wiltse Rd. The road was muddy, and as they reached the asphalt, Nina realized her boots were caked in mud, making it difficult for her to walk.  

“Having trouble there?” James asked.  

“I picked the wrong footwear for this,” she replied, crouching and using her note to wipe off the mud. He chuckled.  

“You’re doing fine.”  

“Do you need help?” he offered, crouching beside her.  

“I can’t get this damn mud off,” she admitted, frustrated.  

“Let me help,” he said, taking the paper and cleaning her boots.  

“There, it’s better,” he said, stepping back. Nina inspected her boots, feeling lighter.  

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a quick smile.  

The town looked nothing like she remembered. Thick fog covered the area, and places that were once vibrant were now destroyed or abandoned, giving the impression that everyone had lost hope.  

James and Nina walked in silence. She tried to stay close without making it awkward. He glanced back occasionally to check on her. Reaching the entrance, they found an abandoned bus station with a bench and a large guide board displaying the town's map.  

James picked up a new map and muttered, “Special place, hmm…”  

“Did you say something?” Nina asked.  

“Mary…” he paused. “She said she’s waiting for me in our special place, but I don’t know what that means.”  

“Do you remember any places you visited?” Nina inquired, looking at him closely. She decided to help him even though she didn’t know why would he still believe that his wife is alive. Like, if he buried her how could he think that, she thought to herself. But she didn’t question him further. 

“I—I can’t quite…” he stammered, his expression puzzled. Suddenly, he gripped his head, wincing in pain.  

“Are you alright?” Nina stepped closer; he looked away, zoning out briefly before focusing on her again.  

“Let’s look around; we might find a clue about where to go next,” she suggested. He nodded slowly, and they entered the town side by side. 

[kiyokowastaken]

A Piece Of Heaven.

James Sunderland x Female Reader.

Minors Don't Interact!!!

CW: fingering, overstimulating, p in v (no protection), hair pulling/tugging, blowjob, babying a middle aged, miserable man, dirty talk, OOC James, porn with plot, age gap (reader is in her early twenties while James is in his mid-thirties), tit sucking, creampie, dom!James, oral (male and female receiving and giving, face f*cking, James has a breeding kink.

Summary: After partnering up with James and Maria, you could see the dynamic between them. A beautiful blonde vixen flirting with a miserable and pathetic man in search of his supposedly dead wife. Feeling a bit jealous of the interaction between them, you decided to climb the roof of the hotel to watch whatever of the sky that you can but you’re interrupted by someone.

This isn’t revised so excuse any misspelling or grammar mistakes! I was also inspired by another amazing James Sunderland x Reader writer named sundrlands so check them out!!

Enjoy loves ^^!

The fucking fog.

How come in some areas it’s dense as fuck but now when you need the fog to be dense, it’s not. You saw the blonde haired woman named, Maria latching onto James’s arms as if she couldn’t hold her own. You knew that the male was far too awkward to say anything about it, so he merely just let it be. You looked around the area, it seemed not as rundown and ruined as the other places that you guys have encountered, you caught a glimpse of a flower shop and your interest was piqued to say the least.

You jogged over to the small shop as James was looking down at the map trying to figure out where the hotel was as Maria was merely talking his ear off. You were pleasantly surprised when the flowers looked to be alive, they were still blooming in such a terrible condition. Your fingertips reached out and graced the soft petals of a Lily, the beautiful flower slightly moved by your touch before it got covered by a shadow.

You turned around to see James, which caused you to take a few steps back. His cologne was faint yet lingered around him, he smelled like clean laundry with a hint of a musky yet woody scent, the kinda smell that when you hugged someone you would try and take another whiff, “Uh..I figured out the way to the hotel, we would get there in a couple of more minutes..” The blonde haired man would mumble.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh as you looked back at the blossomed flower, “You speak as if I’m going to snap back at you.” James merely flushed a bit at your comment as it took him a moment to think about his next choice of words. He always seemed to do that, instead of other people who just spoke their minds without considering what others might say.

James was the opposite, it’s like he handcrafted his response for you, yet he still fell short, “I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked peaceful over here in your own world.” He hummed out as he looked down at the flowers before he reached out and tried to stroke the flower but it seemed that he lacked a certain softness to his touch.

The very Lily that you once caressed so tenderly and gently, lost a petal once James touched it. James seemed a little disheartened as the sad look on his face that he always had seemed a bit more sadder, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched it, it seems like whenever I touch things they always end u-..” You stopped James’s sad monologue as with a bit of confidence, you grabbed his hand with your own and gently moved over to a flower, a budding bushel of Heathers.

You guide his hand and with a gentle brush of both hands, the bushel waves gently before you pulled your hand away with a small smile as you turned to look at the taller male, “Don’t always be pessimistic James, you have a gentleness to you. You just need to be patient, now come on, Maria is waiting for you.” You said with a slight bitter tone that James seemed to catch before his soft yet gruff voice said, “You mean, us, she’s waiting for us.” To which, you merely nodded before walking back with James.

A few minutes turned to a hour and the sweet moment between you and James had seemed to dissipate into thin air. Maria was once again walking side by side with James, their hands occasionally brushed against each other more than they should. At one point, Maria mentioned how cold she was which caused James to pause before he tugged off his military jacket and held it out for her which she graciously took and slipped on. You, in the meanwhile just scoffed, how unbelievable. James was merely being a gentleman and gave the women his jacket, so she wouldn’t freeze to death and here you were acting like it was the worst betrayal of your life. I mean, it stung a bit, you asked James to borrow his jacket during a moment of rest since the room you guys were in was cold to which he merely just got up and went through the hassle of finding a semi-clean blanket and handing it to you.

You merely just looked around at whatever you could in the surrounding scenery as the fog began to slowly disappear. You looked back to see the hotel, it was small but it was near an embankment of water which gave it a nice appeal. You guys got closer and before you guys knew it, you guys separated off into your own rooms. James got the room in the middle while you and Maria got the right and left rooms next to his.

Once, James got his jacket back from Maria, you all settled into your own rooms for the night. It was a delightful surprise when the water still ran through the pipes of this hotel, it was clean water as well. You stripped out of your clothes and turned the warm water on as once your body stepped into the warmth, it melted away any stress that you had away. You guys had battled all sorts of weird ass monsters coming to this hotel, so this was refreshing to say the least. You cleaned off the grim, sweat, and the blood off your body before getting out and changing back into your clothes.

They were a bit dirty but nothing too bad, you then debated into taking a nap or just roaming around the hotel. You guys could probably stock up on whatever you needed to finish this fucked up adventure so without a second thought, you grasped the handle of the door opened it before stepping outside into the fresh night breeze. Silent Hill looked less scary when it was night, the fog almost seemed lifted and the surroundings were now noticeable.

You turned towards James’s door to see him talking with Maria as they both leaned against the iron railing. You squinted a bit and you found yourself a bit shocked to see a small smile on his face, you had more than enough seeing the two of them together so you turned on your heel and walked to the opposite side. You looked through the few rooms that were accessible and grabbed some bandages and couple of food supplies before you found a latter up to the roof of the hotel.

You shrugged before you grabbed ahold of the latter and started to climb your way up to the room. Once on top of the roof, you let out a deep sigh as the air felt fresher up here. The cold wind stung your warm skin and blew through your slightly damp hair before you found yourself sitting on top of the roof. It was comfortable, the concrete of the roof was smooth enough to not be uncomfortable as you laid back and looked up at the sky and for once in Silent Hill, you felt at peace.

You closed your eyes for a moment as the wind blew small strands of your hair away from your face, you slowly reopened your eyes and the moon was bathing everything in its moonlight, including yourself. You looked serene, downright ethereal to James as he finally found you, he was getting worried once he searched your room and every other room that you already ransacked and didn’t find you.

He took a deep breath air before releasing it as he could now be calm. A few minutes ago, he was talking to Maria, the woman was good company. She was cocky, confident, and a downright temptress but he had enough of those types of women in his younger years. The attention was nice but you caught his eye, he really shouldn’t even be considering anyone when he’s looking for his wife, yet you graced him with patience, a loving and gentle touch, and the way your eyes always seem to shine a bit more brighter whenever he talked to you made him feel..good. Mary, they had their arguments and yet, they loved each other but somewhere along the way the glimmer in her eyes and the way she looked at James, it no longer felt like home. Yet, here he was searching for her after three years of her supposed death.

James saw you staring up at the sky and found himself also in awe at how beautiful the stars shined. He then cleared his throat as he saw you perk up as if he had frightened you, “Sorry..I didn’t mean to scare you, I just got worried when I didn’t find you in your room.” He said softly, as he walked a bit more closer before he found himself sitting down a bit away from you as he didn’t want to invade your space. “Are you okay..? I mean, obviously we aren’t since we are stuck in this hellhole but you seem to become a bit more reserved.” James said as his eyes glanced at you before looking elsewhere.

A silence followed afterwards and it seemed to eat at James, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

You let out a huff as you turned your body to fully look at James, “Are you something with Maria?” You rebutted with a question of your own. James was stunned at the question as he felt a red flush settle at the tips of his ears as he shook his head, “Me and Maria..we are just uh..good acquaintances. That’s all..” He stumbled out as your eyes hyper focused at his small movements and gestures.

“Then..why don’t you act the same way with me? You found Maria and me at the same place, we have been traveling together for a while now and yet, it seems like..you dislike me.” You muttered out before peeling your eyes away from James. James didn’t mean to make you feel that type of way, he didn’t mean to make you feel isolated from your small little group. This place was already isolating as it is.

“I-..I’m sorry, it’s just that..well I find myself feeling some kind of way whenever I’m near you and I don’t want that to affect us, it’s difficult to explain.” You could see James in the corner of your vision, he was rubbing the back of his neck. A bubble of confidence or maybe the way the moonlight reflected on James’s eyes made him seem all the more pathetic. You patted your lap as you looked at him for a split moment, “We have all the time in the world right now, explain this feeling to me, please.”

James looked at your lap that you patted before looking up at you, he felt like if he gave in to you, he would betray Mary. He did all of this for her. He reprimanded himself for feeling a warm feeling whenever you guys even locked eyes for a split moment. Yet, a part of him craved comfort, he wished to be adored again. He wished soft hands cradled his worn and tired face and pressed soft kisses against it. Mary once did that before the damned illness took her.

He moved closer to you and placed his head on your plush thighs and closed his eyes.

Warmth.

That’s what you gave off, the scent of a sweet yet citrus scent clung onto you and your clothes. He tensed up when he felt your hands on him. One on his chest and the other one scratched his scalp and he battled to hold back a soft groan. Sinful. This was utterly sinful. He was still married to Mary, he loved his wife, yet why did he turn around and push his face onto your stomach as one of his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled him close.

“J-..James..!” You stuttered out as the touch to you was foreign. You had have past lovers and loved every single one but none of them made you feel the way James did. The older man, he made a part of you want to baby him..protect him and care for him. He could provide for himself yet to your mind that didn’t matter.

“You make me feel warm, you make me forget about Mary. It feels so wrong. I’m here for her..and yet, your arms have felt more like home than hers ever did..and I feel guilty for such thought.”

Those words that James muttered out against your stomach made your face burn unlike any other. You didn’t know how to respond as you felt him take a deep inhale and then exhale, he felt more relaxed..guess that was eating at him for a while now. Your hand merely slid from his chest towards his back and rubbed his back as she sighed.

“You don’t have to feel guilty James..I also feel the same, I just didn’t know that you felt like I did. You always seemed reserved towards me, so I just thought I made you uncomfortable for something like that.” You felt James shift before you removed your hands from him as he sat up. He was fairly close now. You could smell him just like you did in the flower shop.

“..As I stated before, I’m not uncomfortable with you. I will feel terrible if you got mixed up with someone like me, (Y/N). You’re kind, sweet, warm, patient, and just everything that I’m not. I still have this whole Mary thing to resolve. We still need to get out of here and..I’m a bit older than you. You’re barely enjoying yourself, I’m already past my prime.” James said with a soft chuckle leaving his lips. God, that chuckle..it felt like a drug. You wanted more of that.

“You should stop putting yourself down, you’re terrible at even finding a good thing about yourself, James. You have this softness in you, I can see it. It’s just hidden by troubles, nothing that a little patience and talking can’t undo and about the whole age thing. Do you really think I care? We have gone against unexplained beings and you think an age gap is what’s gonna scare me off?” You rebutted with an eye roll as James raised an eyebrow.

“Do you like your men older?”

The silence that followed was all consuming, you cleared your throat as you puffed up your chest a bit as you nodded, “Well, yes but not senile old.” This seemed to make James laugh as he turned his face away from you as his body shook with his laughter.

“So, do I fit into your criteria?” James asked as his normally reserved and cold demeanor changed slightly. It had a hint of flirtatiousness and genuine curiosity. “I mean, yeah, you do.” You said as you couldn’t help but notice him moving closer.

A sudden change in the air happened, it was noticeable. He hummed as he looked at your eyes and then down to your lips, he wanted to kiss them so badly. It was almost downright painful how much he craved to brush his lips against yours. You could feel his eyes, you almost felt naked in his stare. It felt like he was undressing you.

“Jam-..”

“Can I kiss you?”

Did you fall asleep on the roof of the hotel and now your mind was conjuring up some wet dream about the male you have been lusting over? No, this felt real. He felt real. The warmth he radiated was real. You could only nod before he leaned in close and looked into your eyes with his beautiful, enchanting blue-grey eyes, “I need you to say yes or no.”

You felt your heart beating quickly, he was close, his slow exhale of breath. You could feel it against your lips before you opened your mouth, “Yes..please.”James let out a soft and quick breathy laugh before he placed one of his hands on your neck and pulled you into the kiss. His other hand was placed on your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You couldn’t hide the slip of a soft whine tumble out of your lips.

Heavenly. That’s what James felt right now. If Silent Hill was his own personal hell then you must be his personal heaven. The hand that held your neck slowly slipped upwards towards your jaw as he held it. His tongue flicked against your bottom lip as to ask for entrance.

James acted different. This wasn’t the same man that seemed to dislike small talk or any time of human connection if it didn’t regard Mary. You might’ve unleashed a animal, a hidden side of him that you only caught glimpses at whenever he swung that metal pipe and aimed at those twisted creatures before pulling the trigger without hesitation. You opened your mouth, a tad bit but that was enough for James to slip his wet tongue into your mouth. Your arms that were once by your side slipped upwards to grasp at his faded, forest green military jacket as a anchor. Your own tongue shyly met his in a heated and sultry dance. The kiss that was supposed to be somewhat sweet became needy and sloppy.

He tilted his head to the side as his hand that was on your waist slipped down and underneath your shirt as his calloused and rough hands grasped your body as if to reassure himself that you weren’t going to slip away. That you weren’t a figment of his imagination. You were real.

The two pulled away from the kiss as a line of saliva was the only evidence of the hot and heavy kiss. James’s hand that was on your jaw slid upwards and wiped your bottom lip as the string of saliva was no longer there. The air was charged with sexual tension, it was no longer awkwardness and stepping on eggshells. It was filled with lust, need, and want.

“I need you..I want you but we don’t have to continue if you don’t want too.” James said between small soft pants as he tried to regain his steady breathing. Your eyes were hazy, in your mind, you only wanted him. You craved him. You have held back for a while and now the man that you craved, he craved you back.

“I need you as well, James Sunderland.”

Those words sealed your fate. Now, here you were, your shirt and light jacket thrown on the floor of James’s hotel room. Soft moans and pants filled the room as James left dark purplish red marks on your neck and collarbone. How you were going to explain these marks to Maria tomorrow, well, that was a problem for tomorrow. James was set on marking your skin up, claim it as his. To claim you and mark you as his woman.

His tongue licked and traced from your collarbone down the valley of your breasts. He placed a couple of sloppy kisses there as his mouth traveled to your right breast as he attached his lips around your harden bud. His tongue swirled around it as he started to suckle on your breast. His hand ran up your body and groped your left breast, his thumb and middle finger pinched and tugged on your nipple as one of your hands grasped the bedsheets and the other hand tried to muffle your moans and gasps.

Your body was soft, warm, and inviting to James. He felt like he was tainting you with all of his sinfulness, he didn’t want to damn you but at the same time. He grasped onto you as if you were his salvation and maybe, you were. His angel, his pretty girl..he wanted to leave you a beautiful mess. His teeth softly teased your nipple that was on his mouth before he pulled away with a lewd ‘pop’. Your expression was his favorite thing, yet he disliked you hiding your face.

“Don’t hide your face sweetheart, I want to see you for who you are, please.” He said as he locked eyes with yours as his mouth wrapped around your left nipple as his right hand slid up your body to tug and pinch your spit ridden nipple. He gave the same treatment to your left nipple until he felt satisfied with himself. After that, he left a couple more love marks on your chest just to make sure as pulled away from your shivering body.

“May I?” He said as he eyed your pants as you nodded as your hands slid down to unbutton and unzip your pants so that he didn’t need to struggle as much. His hands then grabbed the hem on your pants and panties before he tugged them down in one fluid motions. The need to cover your intimate area was strong as your hand slipped between your thighs to cover your slicked cunt. James found that cute, he dropped your pants and panties on the ground before his attention returned to you.

He grasped your waist and pulled you to the edge of the bed as he made you sit up as he got on his knees. He wanted to taste you, badly. He looked up at you for a sign of hesitation before you nodded once again in consent as his hands prided your thighs open. He felt himself salivate when he saw your cunt dripping for him, “All for me, pretty girl~?” He cooed as he looked up once more to see your flustered face. He chuckled as he began with pressing soft kisses on your inner thighs as he teased you with small nips to your thighs. He suckled a few marks on your inner thighs before he was face to face with your cunt.

He closed his eyes as his tongue slipped out and a wet stripe licked your slit. You instant let out a whine as your thighs tensed up, he kept your thighs apart using his hands which were wrapped around them. He prodded his wet muscle into your cunt as his nuzzled his face into your wet heat. His nose occasionally bumped against your clit as his tongue lapped at your juices as he eagerly tasted you like if you were an expensive wine. His tongue prodded your clenching entrance before he nuzzled his face more into your cunt as his tongue slipped into your clenching and unclenching entrance.

His slurping became downright pornographic as your hands left the crumpled up bedsheets and slipped into his dirty blonde locks. Your head fell back as your lips were in a ‘o’ shape as moans and whines of pleasure left them. You began to grind your cunt against his mouth as the way he slurped you like he was a hungered man was all too addictive. The way his nose bumped against your clit would send shivers down your spine as goosebumps riddled your body, “J-..James~!” You moaned his name loudly.

This made James prideful, he pulled away from your slicked cunt as leaned his head against your thighs as you guys once again locked eyes as he panted heavily. He looked downright fucking sinful, his hair a tousled mess in your hands, his face flushed red, his eyes glazed over with pure lust and admiration, and his lips along with his chin were smeared with a combination of his spit and your juices. “Use me to get off, c’mon baby girl, I’m only here for you.” He panted out.

Those words made your eyes roll to the back of your head as his lips wrapped around your clit. Fucking hell. He was so fucking good, you felt the coil in your stomach come to life. One of his hands left your thighs as they slipped down to your cunt, his index and pointer finger slipped into your cunt without much resistance. He angled them upwards and curled them in a ‘come here’ motion, you soon began to grind your cunt on his face like if he was merely a tool for your pleasure.

The coil began to slowly unravel as he continued to suckle on your clit as his fingers quickened in pace as he felt you clenching non-stop on his fingers. You pushed his face against your cunt with your hands as his unused hand gripped your thighs in a bruising hold before he pulled away as he heard a disappointed and pitiful whine leave your pretty lips. He panted heavily as his chest rose and fell quickly as he tried to regain all the air he needed. He fell back on his ass as his other hand that was on your thigh wiped his face clean from your wetness. “Not yet, pretty girl, you aren’t going to cum that easily.”

He said as before he stood up, he then began to strip. Once he was naked, he had scratch marks and cuts on his body. They had long scarred which meant he probably got them long ago, your eyes mapped out his entire body before your eyes found his cock. He was trimmed, neat which surprised you. He was a good six and a half inches, he was more length than girth. He had a pretty pink tip, that was currently leaking pre-cum as it seemed that eating you out worked him up.

You looked up at him as he walked towards you, you licked your lips as he loomed over you. He grabbed your chin as his thumb ran across your lip, “Will you be a good little girl and suck me off, ‘hm?” He asked as you merely dumbly nodded, “Then, what’re you waiting for?” He let go on your chin before as he grabbed your hair into a ponytail as your mouth opened to let him slide into your mouth.

Your mouth wrapped around his tip as your tongue licked his slit that was leaking pre-cum. You swirled your tongue around his head before you slowly took more into your mouth, you had a bit of a gagging reflex so little by little did you take his cock into your mouth. You felt the tip of his cock press against the back your throat which caused you to gag, your hands held onto his muscular thighs as your nails dug onto them. He was fully in your mouth, he could see that you were tense so, he gave you a bit of advice, “Relax..breathe through your nose. You will cause yourself to gag more if you try to breathe through your mouth.” He said as he felt you take his advice.

He then started to bob your head up and down his cock as he felt drool mixed with pre-cum coat his cock. He also heard a bit of it fall onto the floor beneath the both of you, he let soft groans out as his head lolled back in pleasure as the hold that he had on your hair tighten, “That’s it darling, you’re taking my cock so well…” He mumbled out as he slowly began to buck his hips into your mouth. As when he looked down at you, he saw your pretty mouth around his cock as those tear filled eyes looked at him.

“Fuck..if you look at me like that, I might just cum early, doll face.” He muttered through gritted teeth as he felt you hollow your cheeks to create more suction. He felt you become more comfortable as he placed his other hand on your head as he began to lightly thrust into your mouth. The lewd noises and the occasional gagging sound around his cock made him shiver. He felt the knot in his stomach slowly appear.

He quickened his pace a bit more as he almost lost himself when he felt you swallow around his cock. The way your throat tighten around his cock, it was fucking heaven sent. You were a fucking miracle. He began to just fully thrust into your mouth as you slacked your jaw, letting him fully fuck your mouth as groans and..a whimper left his mouth. Oh, this was heavenly, he made such a pretty noise that made you bob your head with his thrusting as you felt his cock throbbing into your mouth more frequently.

It was you that pulled away from his grasp as you coughed, your lips were swollen from the kissing and the sucking you were just doing. He let out a frustrated groan leave his lips as he felt his cock throbbing as his orgasm was so close. You inhaled and exhaled deeply as your chest heaved, “If I couldn’t get my..orgasm, then you can’t either..” You panted out as James merely glared at you before he nodded, it was only fair. He edged you close to your orgasm and you did the same.

He pushed you down on the bed as he towered over you as you guys scooted upwards onto the bed a bit more. James placed a pillow underneath you and moved you close to him, you wrapped your legs around his hips as he looked at you, “Uh..I don’t have a condom, are you sure?” James asked as his hands were on your hips as his thumbs wrapped smoothing circles on your skin. You bit your lip as you thought for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, it’s okay..I want to feel all of you.” You mumbled.

James nodded as he positioned himself before he slowly slipped inside you. You winced a bit at the penetration as it had a been awhile since you slept with someone. James gritted his teeth as he swore that he wasn’t about to cum right then and there. You were fucking tight, he huffed as the grip on your waist tighten as he slowly sank more of his length into your cunt. You, in the other hand, you felt filled. He thrusted fully into you as your toes curled as he let you get used to him and his size.

A few seconds passed before you rolled your hips and a soft moan left your lips, you looked at him and gave him a reassuring nod as he bottomed out before thrusting back into you. Your hands wrapped around his neck as your nails dug into his board shoulder, “F-..fuck, James..feels so fucking good~!” You whined out as James settled for a slow yet deep pace.

Skin on skin slapping could be heard throughput the room, the scent of sex lingered and consumed the air in the room as the bed squeezed with every deep thrust that James gave you. Your moans mingled with his groans as his hands ran up your body and groped your breasts as bounced every time that he thrusted into your squelching cunt. Lips messily found each other as both of you locked lips in a sloppy and lustful kiss. Passion and..love was found between the two of you. You guys fucked each other like if you were in your own honeymoon.

You guys complete forgot about the outside world and the cruel reality. You guys were completely focused on each other, saliva slicked lips found bare and naked skin to mark as James pace became more quick. Your nails ran down his back creating red irritated marks as he groaned, one of his hands slipped away from your breasts and down to your clit. He rubbed quick and tight circles as he felt you clench around him like a vice, trying to milk him for everything that he had, “f-..fucking hell, c’mon doll face, take my cock. After we are..out of here, I will make you my pretty wife and fuck a baby into you, yeah~?” James said rolled his hips into your cunt.

You nodded as you were feeling so fucking good, he was fucking you so good. “y..yeah, I wanna be your pretty wife..fuck a baby into me right now, please baby~!” You whined against his ear as he nodded. Both of you too drunk out of each other’s presences as the coil in your stomach grew too tight as he quicken the pace into a more quick and deep pace as his kissed your g-spot so fucking precisely and him rubbing your bundle of nerves didn’t help as you came around his cock without warning. You clenched around him tightly as he felt your walls spasm around his cock.

“Good girl..coming on cock so prettily, gonna make you a mommy, mhm, you want that baby girl, ‘hm~?” James said as he wrapped his unused arm around your waist and pulled you close to cold sweat covered body. You nodded dumbly as you felt overstimulated, the way he kept fucking you like a mere ragdoll, chasing his own orgasm made you clench around him. You bit down on his shoulder he as he continued to thrust into you as he felt his cock twitching more frequently, “Close..I’m gonna breed you, my sweet girl. Make you mine fully, come on, cum with me. Let’s cum together….” He muttered as his breathing was ragged.

His chest heaved quickly as his thumb started to swipe against your clit as his thrusts became animalistic in pace as he pounded into you. He groaned loudly into your shoulder as came deep into you. Filling your womb to the brim with his seed as you cried out as you came hard. He stopped swiping on your clit as both his arms held you close to him. He could feel himself twitching inside you. Fuck..you both were tired. He slowly pulled out of you with a wince as you merely groaned, you felt his sticky, warm seed drip out of your abused cunt.

James pulled you down onto the bed with him as he would clean this mess up later but right now, he wanted to relish in the afterglow. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as his hands rubbed your back as you nuzzled into his chest, “I will do everything I can to get us out of Silent Hill..I promise.” He muttered against your hair as you merely nodded as you were fair too tired to form any sentences. He soon felt your body go limp as you feel into a deep slumber.

This wasn’t about Mary anymore, he had to move on from her..he loved Mary but you loved him even if he was a broken man. You chose to embrace him and give yourself to him regardless of the darkness within himself.

You were his saint, his angel, his goddess..his little piece of heaven.

[residentblackheart]

FAVOURITE FANFICTIONS!

these is just my corner to recommend some fanfics i've read or just to show some appreciation for other writers. mostly so i will never have to forget any of them.

ON TUMBLR

── .✦ buttermilk by @ceilidho (john price x reader)

── .✦ let's play ball by @lokissweater (mlb!megumi fushiguro x reader)

ON AO3

── .✦ take me home tonight by madamechrissy (satoru gojo x reader )

── .✦ under the covers of the shadows by @extralively (satoru gojo x original female character)

── .✦ the year 2006 by outlander17 (satoru gojo x original female character)

── .✦ texas hold 'em by @mammamtiaspizzeria (simon 'ghost' riley x original female character)

── .✦ it was love by seriousgirl (james sunderland x reader )

── .✦ in the shadow of power by sheepgardeb4lyfe (satoru gojo x original female character)

── .✦ symptoms and cause by @lostfracturess (satoru gojo x reader)

[james-silent-hill]

I NEED HIM SO BAD

Yes idc.

Im writing the smut part of my Reader fic and I just...

UGH...

Its coming soon. I just need a breather man.

FUCK.

[seriiousgiirl]

𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 — 𝒮𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓉

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ݁𝒿𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓈𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓍 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓇!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇.⊹ ₊ ݁.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. alternate universe - canon divergence, post-silent Hill 2, angst and fluff and smut, touch-starved, redemption, grief, mourning, psychological trauma and horror, mutual pining, James adopted Laura, age difference, smut, vaginal sex, rough sex, rough kissing, aftercare, daddy kink, James deserves his happy ending, James is desperate and pathetic, based on the Silent Hill Games and mostly the remake

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 . ⊹ ₊ ݁. It's in this chapter that the smut warning applies.

❛ Part 1 ⋅ Part 5 ⋅ masterlist ⋅ ao3 ⋅ requests ❜

➜ ┊ a/n: Hello everyone, sorry for the short notice. I've had a tough few days (insomnia, mostly), and had to take a little break. But I'm back and hope to be able to post chapters 5 and 6 in the next few weeks. Thanks again for your support and patience!

Some people have also asked me to create a James bot on C.AI or Janitor.AI based on this story, I don't know if anyone would be interested?

➜ ┊: chapter 4/?.

It had been a few days since you’d ventured into James's world, and with that, a peculiar silence had settled over everything, thick and suffocating. The morning after your dinner together had dawned heavy with a sense of dread that gnawed at your stomach, but it was quickly overshadowed by the sight of James slipping past you like a shadow, his gaze averted as if your presence were a ghostly reminder of something he couldn’t bear to confront.

You tried to catch his eye, hoping for a fleeting moment of connection, something to bridge the chasm that had formed between you. Yet, he always seemed to look away at the last possible second, as if he feared the intensity of your gaze would draw forth feelings he wasn’t ready to face. Each time he turned his head, it felt like a small wound, reopening the ache of unspoken words and unresolved tension. 

It hurt more than you expected.

He’d been around, of course, often dropping Laura off at school, looking as handsome as ever but visibly worn down by an invisible burden. On one particular evening, you caught a glimpse of him through the dim light of the setting sun, his features sharp yet shadowed, eyes heavy with fatigue. The sight pained you; it was a reminder of the struggles he was wrestling with, of the grief that seemed to cling to him like a second skin.

At school, he continued to avoid you like the plague, slipping in and out during drop-offs and pick-ups. Each encounter made your heart race, a confusing mix of longing and disappointment washing over you. 

One afternoon, as he picked Laura up, the air felt charged. He glanced in your direction for a fleeting moment, and your heart soared, only for it to plummet when he quickly turned away, his expression unreadable. In that instant, you caught a glimpse of his profile—handsome, defined, yet somehow haunted by the spectres of his past. 

You longed for him to break the silence, to bridge the gap between you with words or even a gentle touch, but he remained ensconced in his own silence, treating you like a spectre haunting the corners of his life. And deep down, you couldn’t help but wonder if he saw you that way, too—just a ghost lingering in the echoes of his memories.

As you recalled those fleeting moments you had shared, a heaviness settled in your chest. The warmth of his body against yours, the way his large hand had cradled your face and hips, and the soft whisper of your name escaping his lips—it all felt vivid, alive in your memory. Yet, each recollection came with the stark reminder of Mary, the wife he had lost, her absence casting long shadows over everything that might have been between you.

Guilt began to intertwine with your yearning, an insidious companion that lingered in the recesses of your mind. Had you tempted him into something he wasn’t ready for? Was it selfish of you to wish for him to lean into those feelings, to seek solace in you while his heart still mourned the love he had lost? The conflict twisted within you, a complex blend of desire and sorrow that left you feeling hollow, as if you were reaching for something just beyond your grasp.

But as the days turned into an endless cycle of longing and uncertainty, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the ache in your heart—the longing for connection, for understanding, for the warmth of his touch. With every glance, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too or if he was simply drowning in his own sorrow, oblivious to the chaotic whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

It was an afternoon like any other, with the classroom quiet and still, the hum of the school day long gone. The children had all gone home, and you were left tidying up, humming softly to yourself as you wiped down the desks, erasing the chalk from the board. The fading light of the setting sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room, and you were almost ready to head home yourself.

Until you heard his voice.

“Y/n?”

The sound stopped you in your tracks. Slowly, you turned toward the door, and there stood James, leaning slightly against the frame. The sight of him made your heart sink. His eyes, deep and brooding, seemed weighed down by something heavier than just exhaustion. His whole demeanour—shoulders slumped, head bowed slightly—was one of someone carrying far too much on his own. He looked utterly pathetic, and it wasn’t just fatigue; it was something deeper, like a man on the edge of breaking but holding himself together out of sheer necessity.

You had never seen anyone look quite so lost. He looked so lost, like a sad puppy that had wandered too far from home. His sadness was so palpable, it made the air in the room feel thick, pressing against your chest. There was no hiding it, no masking it behind small talk or a forced smile. It was right there in his gaze, that flicker of torment that hadn’t left since you’d first met him.

It hurt to see him like this—more than it should have, more than you wanted to admit. 

He was always handsome, even in his weariness, but today he looked like a ghost of himself. Before, when you didn’t know the full story, his sadness had seemed almost abstract, a mystery you couldn’t quite solve. But now, with everything you knew about his past—about Mary, Laura, and the guilt that haunted him—it was impossible to not feel his pain as if it were your own.

You hesitated, unsure of what to say. The weight of his presence had stolen your voice. You tried to think of something casual, something that wouldn’t betray how much seeing him like this affected you, but everything felt inadequate. How could you offer comfort when you felt so tangled up in your own feelings for him?

Finally, your voice, soft and tentative, broke the silence. "James... why are you here?"

He looked up at you, almost startled, as if he wasn’t expecting you to acknowledge him. His eyes met yours for only a brief moment before dropping again, his fingers fidgeting slightly at his side. He looked embarrassed, maybe even ashamed to be there, as if he didn’t belong anywhere anymore.

“Laura…” His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper, like it took everything in him just to speak. “She forgot her maths book.” He paused, swallowing thickly before continuing. “We started her homework, and it was only then she noticed it was missing.”

His explanation was so simple, so mundane, and yet the way he said it made it feel like so much more. Like this wasn’t just about a forgotten book. It was about him reaching out, searching for something—perhaps even without knowing what. You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral, though your heart ached for him. 

He was a mess, a man so clearly lost in his own grief and guilt, and it pained you to see him standing there, barely holding himself together. He looked like he could fall apart at any moment, and yet, here he was, making the effort for Laura, for something as trivial as a schoolbook. You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned toward the shelves where you kept the children’s books. “I see... Let me find it for you,” you said, your voice gentle, careful, not wanting to add to the weight he was already carrying.

As you moved to locate the book, your mind raced. James had always been distant, but today was different. He looked shattered, a man barely hanging on, and the worst part was knowing that nothing you said or did could fix that. His sadness was his own, something too deep and personal for anyone to reach, but it didn’t stop you from wanting to try. Even if you couldn’t save him, you wanted to at least ease the burden, to remind him that he didn’t have to carry it alone.

When you turned to see James, he had already stepped into the classroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The sound sent a shiver through you, sharp and sudden. You hadn’t expected him to come any closer, but there he was, just a few feet away now, the air between you suddenly thick with something unspoken.

Your heart began to race, and you could feel it in your chest as you inhaled the faint scent of his cologne—a subtle, masculine fragrance that was almost too quiet to notice. Yet it wasn’t too quiet for you. You had spent so many days since that afternoon thinking about him, about every detail of him, that missing his scent would be impossible.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure as you retrieved the book from the shelf, but when you turned back to hand it to him, your fingers trembled. You reached out, the textbook in your hand, but instead of just taking it, James’s hand brushed against yours. His touch was gentle, but there was something intentional about it, something that made your breath catch in your throat.

He didn’t pull away.

His hand remained on yours, fingers curling slightly around the book, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, his gaze locking with yours for the first time in days. His eyes, so full of sadness and longing, seemed to search for something in you, something he couldn’t say out loud. And for a moment, everything else disappeared—the classroom, the empty halls, the world beyond those four walls. It was just you and him, standing there in the stillness, the weight of all that had been left unsaid pressing down on both of you.

You couldn’t move. His eyes held you in place, and you saw something in them you hadn’t seen before—a hesitation, a vulnerability that made your chest tighten. His lips parted as if he were about to speak, but nothing came out at first. He just stood there, his body tense, his hand still on yours, his expression torn between so many emotions that it was almost painful to witness.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, two simple words finally broke the silence.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, but it hit you like a tidal wave. The apology was raw, carrying with it all the weight of the things he couldn’t say—the regret, the guilt, the pain that had been eating away at him since that day. And in that moment, you realised just how much he had been struggling, how much he had been carrying alone. Your breath hitched, and you felt your chest tighten again, this time with the surge of emotions you’d been holding back. His hand was still on yours, his touch warm, but there was a distance between you now that went beyond physical space. It was the distance of two people caught between what had happened and what could never be undone.

You wanted to say something, anything to reassure him, to tell him it was okay, that you didn’t blame him for what happened between you. But the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was stand there, trembling under his gaze, as his apology hung in the air between you like a fragile, broken thing.

James’s lips trembled again, as if he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. He just stood there, looking at you with those sad, haunted eyes, and for the first time, you saw how close he was to breaking.

But then, slowly, his other hand rose, trembling slightly as it reached toward you. You didn’t move, your breath catching in your throat as his fingers gently brushed a strand of your hair. The contact was so delicate, almost reverent, as though he feared you might break if he held on too tightly.

He pulled the strand toward his face, his movements hesitant and slow, and before you could fully comprehend what he was doing, James pressed the strand of your hair against his nose. His eyes fluttered closed, and he inhaled deeply, breathing you in as though he had been starved of the scent, like it was something he’d been longing for since the last time he held you close. His chest rose with the depth of his breath, the movement laboured, as if the act itself was painful.

The sight of him, standing there with your hair pressed against his face, was intimate—achingly so. There was a vulnerability to him that broke something inside you, as if you were seeing a part of James he had kept hidden, even from himself. His expression twisted, and though his eyes were shut, you could see the torment etched across his features—the crease of his brow, the tight line of his jaw, the way his lips parted with an unspoken agony.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice trembling. He sounded broken, the words choked out like they were tearing him apart from the inside. “I’m so sorry.”

It was like he couldn’t stop apologising, each repetition heavier than the last, as though he were trying to atone for everything. His hand in your hair trembled, but he didn’t let go, as if holding onto that small piece of you was the only thing keeping him grounded.

His apology was raw, relentless, his voice cracking with every word, and you could feel the storm of emotions he was fighting to contain—grief, guilt, desire, all wrapped up in that one act of holding your hair to his face like it was his lifeline. You wanted to say something, to comfort him, to reach out and tell him it was okay, that you didn’t regret what had happened between you. But all you could do was watch him, your heart pounding in your chest as his pain washed over you. His other hand still rested on yours, and for a moment, it felt like the only thing connecting him to reality was the physical touch between you.

James’ breaths grew heavier, and his chest rose and fell with the force of his emotions. His eyes remained closed, his face buried in that single strand of your hair, as if he could hide from the world in that small, fleeting connection. 

“I shouldn’t want this,” he murmured, his voice almost inaudible. His lips trembled as he spoke, and when his eyes opened again, they were filled with the kind of torment that twisted your stomach. “But I can’t help it. I’ve tried.”

Your hand moved almost instinctively, fingers trembling as they brushed against James' cheek. His skin was warm beneath your touch, rough from the stubble that had grown in the past few days. He flinched ever so slightly at the contact, but then, as if he had been waiting for it—desperate for it—he leaned into your hand, pressing his face against your palm like a man starved of human touch.

The vulnerability in the gesture broke your heart. You could feel the tension in his body, the weight of the guilt he carried like a burden too heavy for one person to bear. His eyes fluttered shut again, and a shuddering breath escaped him, his body trembling as he leaned further into you.

"It’s okay," you whispered, your voice soft, trying to offer him some comfort, some relief. "You didn’t do anything wrong, James."

His brow furrowed at your words, as though they caused him physical pain. He shook his head, not moving from your touch but rejecting your reassurance with a stubbornness that spoke of the battles raging inside him. He couldn't accept it—couldn't allow himself to believe that he wasn't at fault. That this connection between the two of you wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

"No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "It’s not okay... I... I shouldn’t... I—" His voice cracked, and he drew in a sharp breath, his shoulders trembling as though the emotions were too much to contain.

You could feel him holding back, the restraint in the way he stayed so close but didn’t dare cross the line again. His lips were parted, and he kept stealing glances at you as though he wanted to say something more, to let it all out—but couldn’t.

"James..." you started, your thumb gently stroking his cheek. His hand was still on yours, holding it against his face like he couldn’t bear to let go. "You don’t have to keep punishing yourself. You’re allowed to feel, to want something... someone."

A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, but he said nothing, just kept his eyes closed, focusing on your touch. The silence was heavy, and it pained you to see him like this—so conflicted, so torn between what he felt and what he believed was right.

“I shouldn’t want this," he muttered again, voice choked. "I can’t. Not after everything I’ve done… not after Mary."

His words hung in the air, and the mention of her name felt like a knife to the chest. You knew this wasn’t just about you—this was about the weight of his past, the ghosts he couldn’t escape. His guilt over what had happened to her, the pain he still carried even though she was gone. But as he leaned into your touch, it felt like he was clinging to you, searching for something, someone to pull him out of the darkness that had swallowed him whole.

"James," you whispered again, your voice soft but firm. "You’re not alone anymore. You don’t have to be."

His breath hitched at your words, and for a brief moment, you saw something in his eyes—something raw and desperate, a need that went beyond anything physical. But then, just as quickly, he pulled back, breaking the contact, his face a mask of anguish.

"I can't," he whispered. "I don't deserve this... I don’t deserve you."

The words hit you hard, and you could see the pain behind them, the deep-seated belief that he was beyond redemption. He tried to pull away from you, as if punishing himself further, but you didn’t let him. You wouldn’t let him.

Without thinking, you leaned closer, closing the distance between you. "You’re not the monster you think you are," you said softly. "You’re a good man, James. And I’m here. I’m not going anywhere." 

He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he fought back the torrent of emotions. 

You sighed softly, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as you searched his face. His pain, his guilt—it was unbearable to witness. You wanted to do something, anything, to take it away, to make it easier for him. You didn’t know how far you were willing to go for him, but the sight of him breaking down before you was too much.

"It’s awful to see you like this, James," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you looked into his tormented eyes. "If it would help... if it would relieve you, then you can claim what you want. Whatever it is, I’m here, I… I won’t say anything, it’ll be a secret. Like nothing ever happened."

The words slipped out before you could fully comprehend their weight, but you meant them. The offer hung in the air like a lifeline, and as soon as they left your lips, something inside James seemed to shift. His eyes darkened, a spark of something raw and desperate flickering to life. Hunger. The same hunger you had seen before but held back by layers of guilt and self-loathing. Now, at your words, it began to surface, threatening to consume him.

The maths book you had handed him slipped from his grasp, falling forgotten to the floor with a soft thud. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he were afraid to break the fragile tension between you, but he leaned down, his hands trembling as they cupped your cheeks. His touch was firm yet gentle, his fingers grazing your skin as though he couldn’t believe you were real.

His nose brushed against yours, his breath warm on your lips, and the closeness was intoxicating. You could feel the raw emotion radiating from him. It was palpable, and in that moment, it felt like the entire world had shrunk down to just the two of you. Nothing else mattered. Not the past. Not the guilt. Not the pain.

Just him.

"I... I don’t know if I can stop," he whispered, his voice strained, almost pleading as though he were asking for permission to give in to what he wanted. "I’m so tired of fighting it..."

His lips hovered just above yours, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. You could feel his hesitation, the battle waging inside him. But the hunger in his eyes was undeniable now. You closed your eyes, your heart pounding in your chest, and whispered, "Then don’t." 

It was all the permission he needed. James closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was hungry, desperate, and full of all the emotions he had been holding back for so long. His hands tightened on your cheeks, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.

His need for you was overwhelming, and in that moment, it was as if nothing else existed but the two of you, lost in a sea of desire and emotion that neither of you could control anymore. 

James's tongue delved into your mouth, claiming you with a desperation that bordered on feral. He licked along your tongue, sucking on it, as though attempting to devour you from the inside out. His hands gripped your hair, holding you in place as he plundered your mouth. Between frantic, sloppy kisses, James tore his mouth away just enough to gasp out, "We shouldn't... This is so wrong..." Even as the words left his lips, his body betrayed his true desires. His hips rocked against you, grinding his hardening length against your core.

You pulled him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on with breathless whispers. "Take what you need," you coaxed, your voice thick with want. "I'm yours, James. Let go and just feel..."

A low groan rumbled in his chest as James surrendered to the all-consuming need coursing through him. His tongue tangled with yours, licking into your mouth with a hunger that stole your breath. He sucked on your bottom lip, nipping at it with his teeth before soothing the sting with his tongue. "Fuck, you taste so good," James panted against your lips, his voice raw with desperation. "I've wanted this for so long… But I shouldn’t…" 

But even as the words left his lips, his actions told a different story. His hands were roaming your body now, as if seeking to memorise every curve and dip through your clothes. He groaned when his palm brushed over your breast, giving it a rough squeeze. "Tell me to stop," James pleaded, his voice ragged with need. "Y/n, please... I don't know if I can hold back if you keep encouraging me like this."

He punctuated his words with another searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth possessively. You could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. James' hands slid around to grip your ass, pulling you flush against him. With a low groan, he turned and pushed you up against the bookshelf, pinning you there with his body.

"I want to hear you moan for me, Y/n," he growled, his voice rough with desire. His hands caressed up your thighs, slipping under your skirt. He nipped at your earlobe, his hot breath making you shiver. "I need to feel how wet you are for me." His fingers brushed over the damp fabric of your panties and you couldn't suppress the breathy whimper that escaped your lips. James rumbled his approval.

"Fuck, you're soaked," he groaned, rubbing his palm against your clothed slit. "I can feel how much you want this. How much you want me." He slipped a finger beneath your panties, teasing your slick folds. You gasped at the first touch, your walls fluttering around the digit. James curled his finger, stroking over your sensitive nerves and drawing out needy moans.

"That's it, baby," he crooned, working you with his fingers. "Let me hear how good I make you feel. I want everyone in this school to know who you belong to." He captured your lips in another searing kiss as he fingered you harder, his thumb circling your clit. The obscene wet sounds of your arousal filled the air, mixing with your wanton moans and the creaking of the bookshelf as James rutted against you.

Lost in a haze of pleasure, you could only cling to him, surrendering yourself to the intensity of his touch. In that moment, nothing existed but your rejected love and the overwhelming need consuming you both.

Your moans grew louder as James' fingers delved deeper, stroking over your most sensitive spots. Electric pleasure sparked through your body with each thrust, your walls clenching greedily around his digits. "Oh god, James!" you cried out, your hips rolling to meet his touch. "Don't stop, it feels incredible..."

He grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye. "You like being fingered in the middle of the class, don't you? Waiting for me to come claim you, to touch you like this where anyone could see." James curled his fingers just right, rubbing insistently over your G-spot. Your knees nearly buckled at the intense sensation, a flood of wetness coating his hand.

"Answer me," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Tell me how much you love being touched by me, even if someone walks by and hears what a needy little thing you are." To emphasise his point, James slipped his fingers out and pushed two back in, spreading them wide to stretch you open. 

You keened at the lewd intrusion, your pussy fluttering wildly. "Please..." you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for. More, harder, anything to relieve the building pressure inside you.

"Please what?" James teased, pumping his fingers slowly. "Use your words, Y/n. Let everyone know how badly you need to be fucked."

He twisted his wrist, rubbing over that spot deep inside that made stars burst behind your eyes. Your moans reached a fever pitch, echoing off the bookshelves. Distantly, you registered the risk of discovery, but it only seemed to heighten your arousal. In that moment, pinned between James' hard body and the shelf, you didn't care who saw or heard. You just needed him to touch you more, to claim you completely. Consequences be damned.

Your body tensed, muscles pulling tight as your orgasm crashed over you. "Oh fuck, James!" you cried out, voice breaking on his name. Pleasure overwhelmed your senses, your pussy spasming uncontrollably around his fingers as you came hard. James groaned, working you through it, his fingers gentling. He rubbed soothing circles over your clit as you rode out the waves, drawing out your bliss.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let go for me," he encouraged. "You're so fucking beautiful when you cum."

As your climax ebbed, James withdrew his hand, bringing his slick fingers to his mouth. He licked them clean, savouring your taste with a low hum of appreciation. "Mmm, you taste as sweet as I imagined," James purred. "Seeing you fall apart for me, knowing I did that... Fuck, it's almost enough to make me cum in my jeans."

He rocked his hips, grinding his clothed erection against your thigh. You glanced down and saw a damp patch spreading on the fabric where his cock twitched urgently. James was right on the edge, aching for release. "Do you want to feel me cum?" he asked, voice strained with the effort to hold back. "Want to see me lose control for you?"

“Y-Yes, please.” You said, your voice still trembling with the aftermath of your orgasm.

James fumbled with his fly, freeing his throbbing cock. It sprang out, flushed and leaking, the tip slick with precum. He wrapped a hand around himself and stroked, hissing at the sensation. "Fuck, just like that," he grunted, working his shaft faster. "Watching you cum got me so hard, Y/n. I'm gonna... Ungh!"

With a final few tight pumps, James threw his head back with a guttural moan as his orgasm hit. Thick ropes of cum spurted from his cock, splattering obscenely across your skirt. He milked himself through it, riding out the intense waves of pleasure. Panting, James slumped against you, his softening cock still in his hand. He captured your lips in a languid kiss, sharing your taste between you. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with satisfaction.

"That was... Wow," he breathed, pressing his forehead to yours. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my life."

Your legs trembled, the aftershocks still singing through your nerves. You'd never experienced anything so intense, so all-consuming. James had ruined you for anyone else, with a single touch. You knew you were addicted to the way only he could make you feel.

James helped you smooth your skirt back down and straighten your clothes, his touch gentle but almost impersonal now. There was a new tension in his shoulders as he tucked himself away and refastened his jeans, movements sharp. When he turned back to you, his expression was unreadable. Gone was the vulnerable, broken man who had confessed his feelings. In his place stood a stranger, cold and distant.

"We're keeping this a secret, right?" James asked, his tone almost accusatory. "Like nothing happened."

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift. Was this really the same man who had been kissing you so passionately and worshipped your body just minutes ago? Shame and confusion warred within you as you nodded mutely.

James searched your face for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight. "Good."

You swallowed back the hurt, forcing a stiff nod of agreement. "Of course. I won't say a word," you murmured, your voice small.

James' expression softened slightly at your acquiescence, some of the anger draining from his posture. "I didn't mean... Fuck. This doesn't change anything, okay? You're still the teacher of my daughter. I can't cross that line again." The mixed message confused you further. If he regretted what happened, why the anger?

But before you could respond, James was already turning away, taking Laura’s maths book on the floor. The dismissal was clear. Whatever connection you thought you'd felt, it was gone now. Just a fleeting illusion born of heat and proximity. Numb, you collected your own books, pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. James wasn't angry because he regretted what you shared. He was angry because he didn't. 

Because he liked it too much, wanted it too much. And that scared him.

Because it terrified you as well, the intensity of your reaction to his touch. The way your heart raced and your body ached, even now. This thing between you... It was dangerous. Forbidden. But God help you, a traitorous part of you wanted to do it all again. To hell with the consequences.

Shaking your head to clear it, you slipped past James without another word. You had to get out of here, had to put some distance between your bodies before you gave in to temptation again.

As James left without another word, you fled the classroom just minutes later and you couldn't help but wonder what this meant for your future. Could you really go back to a normal parent-teacher relationship after this? Or would the memory of his hands on your skin, his lips devouring yours, be enough to drive you to distraction? Only time would tell. But one thing was certain - your feelings for James would never be the same. 

And that terrified you more than any other outcome.

───────────────

Following that afternoon, you had braced yourself for James to disappear from your life, retreating back into the shadows of his grief and responsibilities. Yet, to your surprise, he returned.

James would go to great lengths to ensure these meetings remained shrouded in secrecy. He would meticulously arrange for someone to look after Laura, his little girl blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in her father's heart. The logistics felt cold and clinical, but you understood his reasoning: if Laura saw you at his home too often, she'd start asking questions. And questions were the last thing he wanted to deal with. When he suggested booking a hotel, you sensed it was more than just practicality. It was as if he wanted to keep the entire affair compartmentalised—a small, dark corner of his life that could remain untouched by the chaos of his emotions. 

James often reminded you that it “meant nothing,” and part of you wanted to believe him. You had to. It was easier that way. You understood that his heart was still tethered to the past, to the memory of Mary, and what you shared could only ever be physical. Yet, despite the rationalisations, the moments you spent together ignited a fire within you, leaving you both breathless and craving more.

You wrestled with that notion, knowing deep down that it was true. It was just a carnal pleasure for him—an escape from the suffocating weight of his past and the present responsibilities of being a father. And yet, you found it hard to convince yourself that it didn’t mean anything to you, too. Every time he wrapped his arms around you, his touch igniting a fire within you, it felt more profound than mere physicality. You longed for it to be something real, but reality kept slapping you in the face, reminding you that this was just a distraction for him.

You were drawn to him, and every shared breath and fleeting glance ignited a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to let you in. But with every whispered promise exchanged in the dim light of the hotel room, the reality of the situation settled over you like a heavy cloak, reminding you of the limits you—and then James had set, the walls he had built to protect himself. 

It was one of those evenings. The hotel room was nicer than usual, you noticed, dimly lit by a warm, ambient glow that softened the edges of the night. You were lying on the bed in your underwear, your body sprawled across the sheets in anticipation. The room felt empty, save for the heavy silence that hung between the moments. You could hear your own heartbeat in the quiet, and the soft rustle of the door as it clicked shut announced James' arrival.

He still wore his jacket, but it looked like a burden, one he was quick to shed as he stepped into the room. The jacket fell to the floor with a heavy thud, and for a moment, he stood there, unmoving. His expression was clouded, a mixture of exhaustion and something far deeper that you’d come to recognize over these past weeks. James was multi-faceted, a puzzle of emotions that never fully aligned. Most of the time, he wore sadness like a second skin, carrying it with him like a cloak he could never quite shake off. But sometimes, beneath that sadness, there was anger—deep, raw, and bitter—or even hate. It was rare to see him happy, truly happy. The version of James that laughed or smiled felt like a ghost of who he used to be. 

Tonight, though, he looked utterly tired, the kind of weariness that dug into his bones and weighed him down. He sat at the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped, his eyes distant. His hand found your leg almost instinctively, caressing your skin absentmindedly, as if searching for something—comfort, maybe. But you weren’t sure he could ever really find it.

You shifted slightly under his touch, the feeling of his fingers against your leg sending a small shiver up your spine. You glanced at him, watching his profile as he sat there, lost in his own thoughts. His hand traced slow, idle patterns against your skin, but his gaze was far away, his mind somewhere else.

"Long day?" you asked softly, your voice barely breaking the silence. 

James didn’t answer right away. His fingers paused for a moment, then resumed their gentle motion. You could tell he was carrying the weight of something, but it wasn’t your place to ask—at least not anymore. Not in this arrangement, where your time together had become a strange kind of ritual, bound by unsaid rules.

He finally exhaled, a deep sigh that seemed to come from the depths of him. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice rough. "Long day."

You wanted to reach out to him, to offer some kind of solace, but you knew better by now. James was a man trapped inside his own pain, his own regret, and as much as you wanted to break through that barrier, you also knew he would push you away if you tried. So instead, you let him sit there, his hand on your leg, and you stayed quiet, letting the silence speak for itself.

His hand lingered, caressing your skin with a kind of absent tenderness that always seemed at odds with the darkness in his eyes. This was the James you had come to know—someone who needed, who sought out comfort in the most fleeting ways, but who could never fully let himself feel it. Someone who wanted but would never allow himself to have.

James shifted beside you, his movements tense and restless, until he finally laid down against you, pressing his body close, almost too close, as if afraid you’d slip away. His head found its way to your chest, clutching at you, not with tenderness but with something more desperate—like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline. The moment felt heavy, loaded with all the things he wasn’t saying but you could feel the tightness of his grip, in the ragged way he sighed.

You threaded your fingers through his ash-blonde hair, trying to soothe the tension in his body, but even your touch didn’t seem to be enough tonight. He was different—more on edge, more fragile, and the air between you was thick with unspoken need. James pressed his face deeper against your breasts, his breath hot against your skin, and you could feel how hard he was holding back, how much he was crumbling inside.

“I have nightmares,” he whispered, his voice raw, almost broken. It wasn’t just tiredness. There was something deeper in his tone—desperation, like he was running out of time, out of hope. “I don’t sleep well. Not anymore.”

You frowned, your heart aching for him. You knew he didn’t sleep well, but hearing him admit it, the way his voice trembled, made it real in a way it hadn’t been before. “What kind of nightmares?” you asked, though part of you wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

James stayed silent, but his grip on you tightened, his fingers curling against your skin like he was holding on for dear life. He didn’t want to tell you, couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he buried his face against you, his body trembling. “It’s bad,” he finally muttered, voice shaking. “Some days it’s worse than others. Today’s one of those days.”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. He was coming apart, breaking down, and you weren’t sure how to fix it. “James…” you whispered, but he didn’t let you finish, and he groaned in protest, his head over your breasts. His pain was palpable, suffocating, and you could feel the anguish in every breath he took. 

After another moment of heavy silence, James shifted slightly, his body tense as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. It was so rare for him to talk, especially about anything that truly mattered, and when his voice finally broke through the quiet, it startled you.

After another stretch of silence, James shifted again against you, but this time, instead of falling deeper into that quiet, his voice emerged, fragile yet determined. "Mary," he whispered, the name hanging heavy in the air between you. It surprised you—he hadn’t spoken about her since the time you saw her picture at his home, and you had assumed he never would. "I… I felt so guilty. When she got sick, all I could think about was how much I missed her—her warmth, just holding her like this." His grip on you tightened, fingers pressing into your skin, as if trying to ground himself through the contact. "But I couldn’t."

His words came out slowly, as if it pained him to say them aloud, but he couldn’t stop now that he had started. You stayed quiet, your hand still in his hair, listening as he unravelled.

"It wasn’t just the sickness, though," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if confessing a sin he had long kept buried. "Even when she wasn’t sick, it wasn’t... right. Our intimacy." His lips twisted in discomfort, and you could feel him tense against you. "There were things I wanted to do, things I thought we’d share, but she didn’t want any of it. She couldn’t, or wouldn’t, I don’t know." He sighed heavily, the sound filled with frustration and sadness. "We’d end up arguing—these cold, distant fights that never solved anything. And then we’d—" He cut himself off, swallowing hard.

"And then we’d have sex, just to stop the fighting," he finally finished, his voice flat, emotionless, like the memory was draining him. "But it was always… it felt so conventional. Like it was just something we were supposed to do, not something we wanted. Not something she wanted, as if I was pressuring her to do it."

James shifted again, burying his face in your chest, his breath warm and ragged against your skin. His hand still clutched you tightly, as if afraid to let go. The pain in his voice was clear, the regret, the guilt, the yearning for something that had always been just out of reach. "I loved her, but… I needed more." His confession was quiet, almost lost in the space between you. "I needed this. I needed what we never had."

It felt like a deep wound had been reopened, and you could feel the rawness of it in every word he spoke. He had been carrying this pain for so long, locked away inside, and now, lying here in your arms, he was letting it spill out. His guilt, his longing, his shame. And even though he didn’t say it, you understood—he wasn’t just missing Mary, he was missing the connection he never had with her. Something deeper, something he was still searching for.

Maybe even in you.

James stayed close to you, his face still pressed against your cleavage, his breathing uneven as the weight of his words hung in the air. You could feel his vulnerability, a kind of desperation that rarely surfaced, like a dam had broken, and he couldn’t stop the flood of his emotions. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say, unsure of how to respond to something so deeply personal. But you knew he needed you, your presence, your understanding.

You gently stroked his hair, giving him time to collect himself. After a long pause, you whispered, “It sounds like you were always left wanting something more.”

James’ grip tightened on you, his fingers digging slightly into your side, as if the truth in your words pained him. He nodded against your chest, a faint, tortured sound escaping him.

“I don’t know why,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, heavy with frustration. “Maybe I was too selfish. Maybe I wanted too much. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t talk to her about it. I didn’t want to hurt her more than she already was.” His voice cracked, as if the weight of that guilt threatened to crush him. “But I was lonely. So damn lonely. And when we… when we were together, it felt like she was just… enduring it. Like I wasn’t allowed to want more from her, to even ask.”

He pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart ache. “I needed things I couldn’t ask her for. Things I couldn’t even bring myself to admit.” His lips trembled, his expression torn between shame and an unspoken longing. “And she’d just… shut down. It made me feel like I was a monster for wanting anything.” You listened quietly, sensing the pain in his voice but also the deep frustration that had been buried for so long. It was as though he had locked away all these feelings, all these desires, believing he was wrong for even having them. But now, with you, he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“It wasn’t just about sex,” he continued, his voice rough. “It was about needing to feel connected, to feel wanted. I loved her, but… She never made me feel like I mattered that way.”

Your hand rested gently on his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly across his skin. “You’re not a monster, James,” you said softly, your voice full of reassurance. “You just… wanted to be seen. To be close to someone.”

He closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into it like a man starved for affection. His breathing hitched, and you could feel the tension in his body, like he was fighting to hold himself together. 

“But I never got that,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “With Mary, it was always… proper. Reserved. And after a while, I stopped trying. It just… wasn’t worth the fights anymore. We would go days without touching, without even saying much to each other. I’d come home, and she’d just be there, like a ghost, and I’d miss her… even though she was right in front of me.”

He let out a bitter laugh, though it sounded more like a sob. “God, I was such an idiot. I thought things would change, that one day she’d wake up and… see me.”

“I’m sorry, James,” you whispered, your voice thick with empathy. 

He opened his eyes, tears glistening at the corners as he looked at you. “But what if… what if I am just selfish?” he asked, his voice shaking. “What if I always needed too much? Too much from her… too much from you.”

You shook your head softly, your hand cupping his face as you met his gaze. “No,” you said firmly, your tone gentle but resolute. “You didn’t ask for too much. You just asked to be seen, to be loved. That’s not selfish, James. That’s human.”

He let out a shaky breath, his hand coming up to cover yours, his thumb tracing the lines of your palm. “But I’ve already messed things up,” he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “With you… I’ve taken so much from you, and I… I don’t even know if I can give you anything back.”

You felt your chest tighten at his words, the rawness in his confession. He was scared—scared of hurting you, scared of repeating the mistakes of the past. But he was also scared of letting you in, of giving himself to you in a way he had never been able to with Mary.

“You don’t have to give me anything,” you said softly, your voice steady. “I’m here because I want to be, James. Not because I expect anything in return.”

His eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of longing and fear, and you could see the war raging inside him. He wanted to believe you, but he had been hurt so deeply before, left feeling empty and undeserving.

“I just… I don’t want to mess this up,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I don’t want to hurt you like I hurt her.”

You leaned in, your forehead resting gently against his. “You’re not going to hurt me,” you whispered back, your breath warm against his skin. “I’m not Mary, James. I’m different.”

For a moment, he was silent, his eyes closing as he absorbed your words. And then, slowly, his grip on you tightened, his hand moving to the back of your neck as he pulled you closer. His lips brushed against yours, tentative and unsure, but the need in his touch was undeniable. He was searching for something—comfort, release, maybe even redemption. And for the first time, you felt like he was truly letting you in.

You held his gaze, your hand still resting on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm. James’ eyes, so full of pain and guilt, flickered with uncertainty as you spoke softly, trying to ease the weight he carried.

“James,” you began gently, “sometimes two people can love each other so much that it ends up hurting them. It doesn’t mean you did anything wrong, and it doesn’t mean Mary was at fault either. It’s just… sometimes things fall apart, and it’s not about who’s to blame.”

James’ brow furrowed, his lips parting as if to say something, but no words came. 

“It was a bad time,” you continued, your voice low but filled with compassion. “You both went through so much, and there wasn’t a way to fix it. Sometimes… love just isn’t enough to heal everything.”

James’ eyes closed, his breath trembling as he let your words wash over him. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed beneath your hand as if he were battling with the acceptance of what you were saying. “It doesn’t make you a bad person,” you whispered, your thumb brushing gently across his cheekbone. “It doesn’t mean you failed her. You did the best you could with what you had.”

James’ grip tightened on you for a brief moment, and then he let out a deep, shaky breath, his head dipping slightly as if the weight of your words was too much to bear. His forehead pressed against yours again, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. “I just… I keep thinking, maybe if I’d done something differently,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe if I’d been better, or tried harder—”

You silenced him with a gentle shake of your head, your fingers moving through his hair. “No, James. Don’t do that to yourself. You loved her, and she loved you, but sometimes that love isn’t enough to stop the hurt. It doesn’t make either of you bad people. It just… happened.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond, the quiet stretching between you as he absorbed the truth of what you said. His hand slipped to rest on your waist, and you could feel him relax slightly, as if the burden on his shoulders had lightened, even just a little. “I don’t know how to let go of it,” he finally whispered, his voice thick with emotion. 

Your heart ached for him, for the weight of guilt and grief he carried every day. But you knew he couldn’t keep punishing himself forever. He deserved to find peace, to let himself heal, even if it took time. “You don’t have to let go of it all at once,” you whispered, your hand sliding to the back of his neck, holding him close. “Just take it one day at a time. You’re allowed to feel everything you feel, but you’re also allowed to move forward. You deserve that, James.”

He stayed still for a long moment, his forehead still pressed against yours, his breath coming out in soft, ragged sighs. And then, slowly, he nodded, the faintest hint of acceptance in his touch as he held you close. “I don’t know how to do this,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I don’t know how to not feel guilty.”

“You don’t have to know right now,” you reassured him, your fingers gently stroking the back of his neck. “Just know that I’m here. You don’t have to carry it all alone anymore.”

His grip tightened on you, and for the first time, you felt him truly lean into your touch—not out of desperation, but out of a need for comfort. It wasn’t about running away from the pain anymore; it was about finding a way to live with it, and maybe, just maybe, to start healing.

You held James close, his head resting against your chest as you softly stroked his hair. His body felt heavy against yours, weighed down by all the unspoken emotions, the guilt, and the unresolved pain. In the silence, a thought crossed your mind—one that had been lingering in the background of your conversations. “What is it, James?” you asked gently, your voice a soft whisper in the dim light of the hotel room. “What did you always want to do… but never could?”

He was still for a moment, as if processing your question, caught off guard by the depth of it. His fingers lightly gripped your waist, and you could feel the tension building in him again, as if the memories were flooding back too quickly. His breath hitched slightly, and you knew you had touched on something buried deep.

“I—” he started, but his voice faltered. His head shifted slightly against your chest, and he didn’t meet your gaze, almost shyly. “I don’t know if I can talk about it.” 

You continued to gently run your fingers through his hair, reassuring him with your presence. “It’s okay, James. You can tell me.

You could see the conflicting emotions playing across James' face - the fear of revealing too much warring with the desperate need for release, for absolution. His breath came faster, his fingers digging into your skin as he wrestled with himself. "I've always..." he began, his voice hoarse. "I've always wanted to dominate. To take control. But I never knew how. I was always too afraid."

He lifted his head to look at you then, his eyes dark and intense. "I want to be the one in charge, Y/n. I want to own your pleasure, make you beg for me. Like… more intense?" His words sent a shiver down your spine, a thrill of excitement mingling with the tenderness in your chest. 

"Show me," you whispered, your hands framing his face. "Show me how to be yours."

Something shifted in James' expression, a flicker of relief and determination. He surged forward, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that stole your breath. His hands roamed your body, claiming every inch of you.

"You're mine," he growled against your lips. "All mine. And I'm going to make you feel so good, baby girl. Gonna take such good care of you." He nipped at your jaw, your throat, marking you as his. His touch was firm, commanding, stoking the heat between your legs. You arched into him, surrendering completely.

James' hands roamed your body with a newfound confidence, squeezing and caressing every curve. He slid his fingers under the waistband of your panties, teasing along the sensitive skin. "Fuck, you're so wet for me already," he groaned, feeling the dampness. He hooked his fingers in the fabric and yanked, ripping your panties off with one swift motion. The cool air hit your heated flesh and you shivered. James threw the tattered lace aside, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of your glistening pussy.

"You like that, baby? Like me taking control?" He reached out and ran a single finger along your slit, collecting the slick on his fingertip. He brought it to your mouth, painting your lips with your own arousal. "Taste how fucking wet you are," he commanded. James pushed you back on the bed, looming over you. 

His clothes were still on but you could see the huge bulge straining against his zipper. He ground his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he was. "Gonna worship this pretty little pussy," he promised, voice low and rough with desire. "Gonna lick up every drop, make you scream for me."

He pushed your thighs apart, settling between them. His hot breath ghosted over your sensitive flesh as he inhaled deeply. "Christ, you smell amazing," James groaned. "Can't wait to taste it."

He dragged the flat of his tongue up your slit in one long, slow lick. Your back arched off the bed, a gasp escaping your lips. James growled at the response, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through you.

He sealed his mouth over your clit and sucked, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. Two fingers pushed inside you, pumping in and out as he ate you out like a starving man. Obscene slurping sounds filled the room, mingling with your unabashed moans.

As James buried his face between your thighs, your moans echoed off the hotel room walls. His stubble-covered cheeks brushed against your sensitive inner thighs, the delicious friction sending electric shivers up your spine. You could feel his nose nestled against your pussy, his hot breath teasing your already drenched folds. "Oh god," you whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair. "James, please..."

He pulled back just enough to look up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "Please what, baby?" he purred, dragging his tongue along his bottom lip. "Use your words."

Your gaze locked with his, hazy with need. "I need you," you breathed, writhing beneath his intense stare. "Please, James... I want to feel you."

A wicked grin spread across his face. "That's not what I asked, sweetheart. Try again."

His words sent a bolt of heat straight to your core. In that moment, you realised exactly what he wanted to hear, what he needed to know. Craning your neck, you cried out, "Please, Daddy! I need you!"

The words seemed to ignite something primal in James. With a possessive growl, he surged forward, claiming your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plundered your mouth, dominating every inch. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so tightly you knew you'd be marked tomorrow.

James broke the kiss with a gasp, panting harshly against your cheek. "That's right, baby girl. Call me Daddy," he rasped, voice dripping with dark promise. "This needy little cunt belongs to me."

To emphasise his point, he sealed his mouth over your clit and sucked hard, making you arch off the bed with a strangled moan. He lashed the sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue, wringing desperate cries from your throat.

"Daddy, please!" you sobbed, fisting your hands in the sheets. "It's too much, I can't..."

James only redoubled his efforts, two fingers plunging into your soaked heat. He pumped them in and out, curling against your inner walls. The mix of pain and pleasure was exquisite, overwhelming. Your thighs trembled around his head, your toes curling into the mattress.

"So good," you panted, head thrashing on the pillow. "Fuck, James, your mouth feels amazing."

When his thumb found your clit and rubbed tight circles, it finally tipped you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath and whiting out your vision. James worked you through it, drawing out every last aftershock until you collapsed bonelessly against the bed.

Pulling back, James wiped his slick mouth with the back of his hand, looking immensely pleased with himself. His hair was tousled from your desperate grip, his lips swollen from your kisses. "Goddamn," he breathed, drinking in the sight of you. "You're so fucking gorgeous when you let go like that. My perfect girl."

He crawled up your body, hovering over you. You could feel the thick ridge of his erection pressing insistently against your hip, hot even through his jeans. James captured your lips in another searing kiss, devouring you, consuming you. You could taste yourself on his tongue, musky and heady. "Suck me," he commanded, voice low and authoritative. "Get that pretty mouth on Daddy's dick and show me what a good girl you are." He asked, taking off his tie and shirt.

Your heart raced at the new dynamic between you, this confident, dominant side of James awakening a primal hunger in your core. You sat up and reached for his belt, eager to obey his orders.

You gripped the base of James' cock, angling it towards your eager mouth. You dragged your tongue along the underside, tracing the prominent vein from root to tip. Reaching the weeping slit, you swirled your tongue around it, lapping up the salty-sweet precum that beaded there. "Mmm, you taste so good," you purred, your words making James' cock twitch against your lips.

You wrapped your lips around the head, suckling gently as you savoured his flavour. Inch by inch, you worked your way down his shaft, relaxing your throat to take him deeper. James groaned above you, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. "Fuck,  just like that," he praised, guiding your head to bob along his length. 

You hollowed your cheeks and sucked harder, determined to give James as much pleasure as he'd given you. You let him guide your movements, surrendering control as you focused on pleasuring your Daddy with your mouth. Above you, James' abs flexed and his breath came in short, sharp pants. His grip on your hair tightened and his thighs tensed, signalling his impending release. You doubled your efforts, desperate to taste him.

With a low, guttural groan, James came undone. His cock pulsed against your tongue as he spilled his seed down your throat. You swallowed every drop, relishing the intimate connection. As James softened, you released him from your mouth with a final, loving kiss to the tip. 

James pulled you close, peppering your face with tender kisses. "That was incredible, baby girl," he murmured, voice rough with satisfaction. "I've never felt anything like that before." You snuggled into his embrace, giggling, happy to see him enjoying himself.

“But we aren’t done, yet,” And James rolled you onto your hands and knees, positioning your ass in the air. The new angle made you feel exposed, vulnerable, but also incredibly aroused. You could feel his eyes raking over your body, drinking in the sight of you laid out before him like a feast. "Fuck, you're gorgeous like this," James growled, his voice low and rough with desire. "All ready for me."

He delivered a sharp smack to your right cheek, making you yelp in surprise. The stinging sensation quickly melted into a throbbing heat that spread through your core. James soothed the abused flesh with his palm, kneading the plump globes of your ass. "Count them, baby girl," he commanded, punctuating his words with another smack to your left cheek. "Let Daddy hear how good his little girl is taking her punishment."

"One," you gasped out, your voice hitching as James continued his sensual assault on your backside. Each stinging slap was followed by a moment of intense pressure, the heat building within you until it exploded into pure, molten need. By the time James reached ten, your ass was flushed a deep pink and you were panting with need. 

You shifted your position, moving to straddle James' hips. His semi-hard cock nestled against your slick folds, already stirring back to life. You ground slowly against him, coating his length in your arousal. Above you, James groaned, hands coming up to grip your waist.

"Already so wet for me again," he praised, voice low and rough with renewed lust. 

“Of course James,” You rolled your hips, sliding your slick heat along his hardening shaft. The head caught on your entrance with each pass, teasing you both with the promise of what was to come. James' fingers dug into your skin, his control fraying at the edges.

Unable to hold back any longer, you reached down to guide him inside. With a single, smooth thrust, James sheathed himself fully within your welcoming heat. You both cried out at the exquisite sensation, bodies trembling with the force of your connection.

"So fucking perfect," James panted, fighting the urge to rut into you wildly. "Gonna make this last, baby girl. Gonna worship this sweet little pussy." He set a deep, steady rhythm, pulling out until just the tip remained before sliding home again. Each drag of his cock along your sensitive walls stoked the flames of your desire higher. Your nails raked down the sweat-slicked skin of his back as you matched his pace, meeting him thrust for delicious thrust.

You cried out at the sudden stretch, walls fluttering around his thick girth as he filled you completely. James stilled for a moment, giving you time to adjust before starting a slow, deep rhythm. Each drag of his cock against your sensitive walls sent sparks of pleasure racing up your spine.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," James groaned, picking up the pace. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he drove into you with increasing force. "So tight, baby. Like you were made just for me."

The wet sounds of your joining filled the room, punctuated by your shared moans and gasps. James' hands roamed your body, mapping every dip and curve as if committing you to memory. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, tongues tangling as he consumed you thoroughly. "My beautiful Y/n," he rasped against your mouth, the intimacy of your name on his lips making your heart race. 

His words, coupled with the relentless pleasure building in your core, pushed you closer to the edge. Your inner muscles fluttered around James' pistoning cock, signalling your impending climax. He reached between you to circle your swollen clit, the added stimulation sending you flying.

You rolled onto your stomach, presenting yourself to James. He gripped your hips, pulling you back against his hardness. With one swift thrust, he buried himself inside your slick heat, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," James groaned, setting a relentless pace as he began to move again.

He pounded into you from behind, the lewd slap of skin against skin filling the room. Each powerful thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy through your trembling body. James' hands roamed your curves possessively, squeezing and kneading your flesh as he claimed you again and again.

"Harder, James,," you begged, arching your back to take him even deeper. "I want to feel you in the morning."

James growled, slamming into you with renewed vigour. He hooked one arm under you, forcing you up onto your knees as he railed you with abandon. The new angle allowed him to hit spots you didn't even know existed, driving you wild with lust. For hours, James took his pleasure from your willing body. You let him explore every position imaginable, determined to bring you to the brink of madness with ecstasy. You lost count of the number of times he came inside you, his hot seed painting your walls and filling your womb.

Through it all, James remained insatiable, his stamina and appetite for you seemingly endless. He worshipped every inch of your skin with his lips and tongue, marking you as his own. By the time he was finally spent, you were a quivering, sweat-slicked mess, utterly satisfied in a way you'd never known before.

As James pulled you into his arms, both of you basked in the afterglow. The shy, reserved man you once knew was gone, replaced by a confident, dominant lover who reveled in bringing you pleasure. And though the future was uncertain, you knew that you would gladly surrender yourself to James desires again and again.

You snuggled closer to James, marveling at the newfound intimacy between you. His strong arms encircled you, holding you tight against his firm chest. The warmth of his skin seeped into your own, "Tonight was incredible," you murmured, tracing idle patterns on James' chest with your fingertips. "I've never seen you let go like that before, so free and uninhibited."

James' eyes fluttered open, meeting your gaze. There was a vulnerability there that made your heart ache. "I've always wanted this," he confessed softly. "To lose myself in you completely, to worship every inch of your beautiful body until you screamed my name. But I was afraid, afraid of my own desires and what they might do to us."

You pressed a tender kiss to his jaw, understanding the depth of his confession. "Don't be afraid anymore, James. This is us, this is what we're meant to be. Just like this, skin on skin, hearts entwined."

James pulled you closer, his lips finding yours in a slow, sensual kiss. You poured all of your love and acceptance into it, hoping to chase away the last remnants of his fear. When he finally pulled back, there was a peace in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

Smiling, you rested your head against James’ chest, listening to the slow, steady beat of his heart. It was a comforting rhythm, one that made you feel safe, despite the complicated nature of what you shared. His arm was draped over you, holding you close, as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. The room was filled with a peaceful silence, broken only by the soft sounds of your breathing mingling together.

You closed your eyes, savouring the moment, knowing that these quiet, intimate nights were rare—fleeting even. Yet, you couldn’t help but cling to the hope that this, whatever it was between you and James, meant something more than just a temporary escape. The thought lingered in your mind, bittersweet, as you traced your fingers absentmindedly along the contours of his chest.

James shifted slightly beneath you, his fingers brushing against your back in slow, absentminded circles. There was a tenderness in the way he touched you now, different from the desperate, carnal need that had driven him earlier. It was softer, more vulnerable—like he was allowing himself to truly feel, even if just for a moment.

“I don’t know what this means for us,” he murmured after a long silence, his voice low and rough from exhaustion. “But… I don’t want to lose this. I don’t want to lose you.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, your heart squeezing at the raw honesty in his eyes. For a man who had spent so long hiding behind his grief, his guilt, and his fear, these words felt like a fragile offering. You could see the uncertainty in him, the way he was torn between wanting to keep you close and fearing that he didn’t deserve to.

“You won’t lose me,” you whispered, brushing a lock of his hair away from his forehead. “I’m here, James. I’m not going anywhere.”

He closed his eyes at your words, a sigh of relief escaping him as he pulled you even closer. His hold on you tightened, like he was grounding himself in your presence, in the warmth of your body pressed against his.

For a long while, you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, as the weight of the night’s emotions slowly settled. There were still so many unanswered questions, so many unresolved feelings, but for now, in this moment, it felt like enough. You could feel James’ breathing slow, his body relaxing as exhaustion took hold, and you knew he was finally allowing himself to rest. 

As you lay there, nestled in the warmth of James’ embrace, the words slipped out almost without thought, carried by the tenderness of the moment. "Could you stay here tonight?" you asked quietly, shyly. It felt natural—right even. The way his body fit against yours, the way his breathing synced with your own. For the first time, it didn’t feel rushed, like the encounters that had come before. Tonight, it felt… different. Deeper.

But the moment the question left your lips, you felt him stiffen beneath you. His once relaxed body tensed, his hand that had been resting so peacefully on your back froze, and you could feel the subtle shift in his breathing—faster, more shallow. The warmth you had just been enveloped in seemed to evaporate all at once, leaving a chill in its place.

"James?" you whispered, lifting your head to look at him. His eyes were wide, almost panicked, darting around the room as if he were suddenly trapped. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His gaze met yours for a fleeting second before he tore it away, staring up at the ceiling instead, his jaw clenched.

"I… I can’t," he finally breathed out, his voice tight and strained. 

"Why not?" you asked softly, a sinking feeling forming in your chest. Tonight had been so right, so good. Why was he pulling away now? You reached for him, but he gently pushed your hand away, his movements almost frantic.

"I can't stay," he repeated, sitting up abruptly and pulling himself from your embrace. His back was to you now, and you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands trembled as they reached for his discarded clothes. "I shouldn’t even be here."

"But James," you began, your voice catching with the sudden wave of confusion and hurt. "It’s different tonight, right? It felt right."

He shook his head, pulling his shirt over his head, still refusing to look at you. "It can’t be more than what it is," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "This was a mistake."

Your heart plummeted at his words, the air in the room growing thick with the weight of them. "A mistake?" you echoed, struggling to keep your voice steady. "You don’t mean that."

But James didn’t respond. Instead, he stood up, buttoning his pants with shaky hands, his back still turned to you. It was like watching him retreat into himself, putting walls back up that you thought had come down, if only for a night. "Please, don’t make this harder," he finally said, his voice breaking slightly. "I can’t… I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you."

Your chest tightened, and the weight of his words pressed down on you, heavy and unrelenting. You wanted to reach out, to pull him back, but something in his posture told you that any more pressure would push him further away.

“Why does it always have to be like this?” you whispered, the ache in your voice undeniable.

But James didn’t answer. He pulled on his jacket, his back turned to you as he tried to collect himself. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the struggle in his silence. It wasn’t just fear—it was torment. The closer he got to you, the more it hurt him.

You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong—that this wasn’t just about deserving, that it was about the connection you shared, the way he opened up to you tonight. But as you sat there, staring at his back, you realised that no matter what you said, it wouldn’t change the deep-rooted guilt and fear that had consumed him. It was too much for him to handle, and the reality of that hit you like a punch to the gut.

"James, wait… what happened tonight—it's okay," you tried, your voice soft, reassuring. You wanted to tell him how much you had enjoyed it, that it was more than just meaningless, that it meant something to you. But before you could get the words out, he cut you off sharply, his voice hard and cold in a way you hadn’t heard before.

“No,” he snapped, turning to face you with a desperate, almost frantic look in his eyes. “What happened tonight… it’s not me. I’m not a man like that. I shouldn’t have—" His voice wavered, but the panic in his tone was unmistakable. “You need to forget about this. Forget it ever happened.”

The words hit you like a slap, leaving a hollow ache in your chest as you sat there, clutching the sheet to your body. You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him how much it mattered, how much he mattered. But before you could speak, James’ next words sent a shockwave through you.

“You better take your pills tomorrow,” he said, his voice cold and matter-of-fact. “Make sure you’re not pregnant. I don’t want to be responsible for anything that comes out of this.” His words were biting, harsh. “I can’t—I won’t support anything related to tonight.”

The bluntness of it stunned you into silence. His words felt like a door slamming shut between you, a reminder of just how temporary this had always been for him. You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless, the reality of his detachment settling in like a heavy weight in your chest. You wanted to say something, anything, to make him see that what you’d shared tonight wasn’t something to just brush off.

But it was like he was already gone, emotionally cut off from you.

“And don’t… don’t think this changes anything,” James continued, his voice rough with guilt and something else—self-loathing, maybe. “I still love Mary. I’ll always love her. This,” he gestured between the two of you, his face hardening, “you’re nothing like her. You’ll never be close to what she was to me.”

His words pierced through you, each one like a knife twisting deeper into your heart. He was distancing himself from you, pushing you away, making sure you understood that what happened tonight wasn’t about you—it wasn’t about love, or even connection. You were just a temporary distraction, a way for him to feel something, anything, other than the constant grief and guilt that plagued him.

As he grabbed his jacket and made his way to the door, he finally turned to look at you, his eyes filled with sorrow and regret. "I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice barely a breath. And before you could respond, he was gone, leaving you alone in the quiet, empty room.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you lay back on the bed, staring at the empty space beside you where he had been just moments ago. The warmth of his touch, his embrace—it all felt like a cruel illusion now, a fleeting moment of connection that had evaporated into nothing.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed was deafening. The warmth of his body, his touch, his voice—it was all gone, leaving you with nothing but the cold reminder that, no matter how close you got to James, he would always pull away in the end.

And despite everything, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe… this was all you’d ever get.

“Of course you’re sorry,” you whispered, crying yourself to sleep.

[moderninfatuation]

Hello!

I am looking to improve my writing / creative thinking by writing x reader imagines and headcanons for the characters I like! I might also be interested in writing shorts if you provide a prompt that catches my attention. Other than that, I will reblog various fanworks that i find cool and that inspire me!

I want this blog to be male and/or gender neutral reader focused, which is why i wont be taking requests for female readers :(

Minors interacting with my nsfw posts will be blocked.

If youre interested, you can read below the cut for more details:

I will do...

- romantic, platonic or family dynamics/relations

- trans headcanons, otherwise queer headcanons

- both sfw and nsfw, various kinks included

- readerxcanon

... but I won't do...

- extreme kinks; I will generally reserve the right to deny a request if it includes a fetish/sexual scenario i dont want to write about

- incest and/or harmful paraphilia

- yandere reader/character and associated themes (kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, torture etc.)

... and i am currently writing for the following fandoms and characters:

RESIDENT EVIL:

- Ethan Winters

- Leon Kennedy

- Luis Serra

- Rebecca Chambers

- Albert Wesker

- Carlos Oliveira

- Ashley Graham

- Ingrid Hunnigan

SILENT HILL:

- Harry Mason

- James Sunderland

- Maria (SH2)

- Pyramid Head

LIKE A DRAGON / YAKUZA:

If you do want to make a request, please include some details such as readers gender/pronouns, setting/scenario and character it includes - the more the better :) thank you for reading!

- pretty much every noteworthy male character from y0 to y7 (including Ishin!), ask for the girls :) im including the judgement series in this as well.

My writing depicts my own interpretation of the characters - I cant promise a 100% accurate portrayal, but I will do my best to keep it somewhat faithful

[buneio]

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

Characters I will write for(long list):

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Ghostface, Michael Myers, Leather-Face, Cole Cassidy, Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada, (Any male Overwatch characters besides Lucio), Tim Wright, Alex Kralie, Slenderman, Ticci Toby, Jeff the killer, Eyeless Jack. (Any main-stream Creepypasta’s that are over 18+), The Riddler, Batman, Joker, Venom/Eddie Brock, Peter Parker, Peter Quill/Star lord, Leon Kennedy, Chris Redfield, Carlos Oliveira, Albert Wesker, Ethan Winters, James Sunderland.

< ♡ >

Female/gender neutral reader, NSFW, Age-gap (If legal), Size differences, Angst, Monster x Human, etc.

< x >

Age-gap (If not legal), Anything Piss or Vomit related kink wise, 1nc3st/P3d0ph1l1a, Racism, etc. Any ship I find weird (Such as Arthur x Dutch) I will never write!

Fandoms I will write for:

Slasher, Red Dead Redemption, Creepypasta, Slenderverse, Silent hill, Resident evil, Overwatch, Marvel, DCU

[yellowwithalisp]

Ask and you shall receive!

https://www.tumblr.com/yellowwithalisp/728998007862968320/healing-cuts-james-sunderland-x-female-reader?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/yellowwithalisp/725988690963333120/%F0%9D%90%98%F0%9D%90%A8%F0%9D%90%A4%F0%9D%90%9A%F0%9D%90%A2%F0%9D%90%9C%F0%9D%90%A8%F0%9D%90%AB%F0%9D%90%9E-%F0%9D%90%83%F0%9D%90%81%F0%9D%90%83%F0%9D%90%89%F0%9D%90%9A%F0%9D%90%A6%F0%9D%90%9E%F0%9D%90%AC-%F0%9D%90%92%F0%9D%90%AE%F0%9D%90%A7%F0%9D%90%9D%F0%9D%90%9E%F0%9D%90%AB%F0%9D%90%A5%F0%9D%90%9A%F0%9D%90%9D-%F0%9D%90%B1-%F0%9D%90%91%F0%9D%90%9E%F0%9D%90%9A%F0%9D%90%9D%F0%9D%90%9E%F0%9D%90%AB?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/yellowwithalisp/725271696028893184/%F0%9D%99%B7%F0%9D%9A%98%F0%9D%9A%9D%F0%9D%9A%8E%F0%9D%9A%95-%F0%9D%9A%9B%F0%9D%9A%98%F0%9D%9A%98%F0%9D%9A%96-%F0%9D%99%B9%F0%9D%9A%8A%F0%9D%9A%96%F0%9D%9A%8E%F0%9D%9A%9C-%F0%9D%9A%82%F0%9D%9A%9E%F0%9D%9A%97%F0%9D%9A%8D%F0%9D%9A%8E%F0%9D%9A%9B%F0%9D%9A%95%F0%9D%9A%8A%F0%9D%9A%97%F0%9D%9A%8D-%F0%9D%9A%A1-%F0%9D%9A%9B%F0%9D%9A%8E%F0%9D%9A%8A%F0%9D%9A%8D%F0%9D%9A%8E%F0%9D%9A%9B-%F0%9D%9A%82%F0%9D%9A%96%F0%9D%9A%9E%F0%9D%9A%9D?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/yellowwithalisp/716997114451886080/i-would-love-some-more-james-x-reader-love-u?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/yellowwithalisp/712274901668642816/james-sunderland-x-reader?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/yellowwithalisp/711916036250828800/weird-fucking-rooms-james-sunderland-x-reader?source=share

WHERES ALL THE JAMES SUNDERLAND X READERS ❗️❗️❗️❗️