Sub!James Sunderland Headcanons:

I've been thinking of ideas for smut. I was thinking of like.... Puff Puff and the reader celebrating their 18th birthday by losing their virginity together? Like, hear me out, the reader and Puff Puff have been friends since 6th grade, they've had a crush on each other for years, and now they're 18 and confessed to each other, and in the heat of the moment, they kiss and decide to do it. But they're too scared to go all the way and do penetrative sex, so they just use their hands. It's a little awkward, but they're just stumbling together, trying to figure out how each other's bodies work. Thoughts??? Wholesome? Cringe? Idk?

So Idk if it's the fandom or what, but I have explicitly stated for minors not to interact with me or my posts. So far I have gotten 2 minors interacting, and both of which were in the YFM community. It kinda surprised me since I figured the Tumblr side of YFM would be around my age range. I'm 18. I wanna put that out there. I am 18 years old.

I do not say "Minors DNI" to be a dick, it's to keep everyone safe. It is technically illegal for a minor user to sexually interact or engage in adult entertainment, especially when an adult is involved. This includes fanfiction. I cannot stop anyone from reading my stuff since it is public. But I want to be able to openly express my sexuality through writing without minors interacting. If you are a minor, there is no shame in your sexuality, but there you are not welcome here. You are legally and morally not welcome here by me. Do not interact. Putting this in pinned.

Why am I not surprised?

Guys, I got a crackfic smut idea. OG James x Remake James. Who's topping?

Or

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.

By The Ring

Rex Sloan x G/N Reader

18+ Minors begone! I have been rotting away for far too long and need to come back. So have my first angsty smut ever.

Summary: Rex always thought you and him were together, but to you, you guys were just a couple. Despite how awful of a partner you were, Rex always has the doubt in his mind that you do care, and you are his.

Warnings/Tags: Cheating from Rex's end, penetration but reader's genitals are kept vague. The reader is genuinely a p.o.s. reader is using Rex for sex, actively objectifies him, and doesn't care about anything else, and this isn't meant to romanticize objectification at all. I'm just practicing a new way of writing. Sex is dry af, dead bedroom, lots of angst, plastic love, literary devices cuz I'm a nerd💀, shattered relationship, hurt but no comfort yall, I'm sorry, it's 12:20 AM and I had a thought😭

You laid there bare while he slipped his way in. Your body is as hot as his charged molecules, but your moans are as loud as a dying kindle. His rough palm clutching your jaw to pepper kisses while you half-heartedly whimper. Moaning was a courtesy, not a requirement. Neither was cumming.

Moaning, begging, sucking, cumming.... it was never a requirement or a need... just formalities.

You knew from the start what kind of person Rex Sloan....or Splode.... was. A firecracker made in an assembly line designed to fizzle, flicker, explode, wow, and then tarnish to leave behind its tattered pieces. Its smell embedded into the ground and your clothes that stank of gunpowder. If there was one thing you loved about Rex.... it was his big personality. He was an ass, but he was always entertaining even in the more distasteful circumstances. He was the definition of fun and adventure.

Sometimes all you ever want is a little fun.

But too much of one's sweet indulgences will always leave a bitter taste in their mouths. Rex was a firework you loved to watch explode, fizzle, and flash vibrantly with all of his true colors. But what happens when the fireworks are too loud? What happens when the fireworks are too bold? What happens when the fireworks burst too close to your home? What happens when the fireworks are simply.... too much?

You dispose of them. Tuck them away into a closet until you get board and long to see their violent bursts again.

Rex was a skeleton in your closet. You didn't bring him up to family or friends--not because you were ashamed, moreso you didn't find it necessary. He was just a firework to watch until he fizzled away from your mind. His ambers always remained in your gyri for his body, for his face, and occassionally his personality.

But sometimes, you really wished he'd just stay in his place.

He thrusts faster into you, pounding, needy, desperate and depraved. What once felt so thrilling, so desirable, so irresistible, has become so.... so.... monotonous. It wasn't the sex that ruined things, it was him.

Assembly lines have changed the world forever. People gained jobs, capitalistic societies thrived, and consumers ate up every new appliance and car and cosmetic that released. But assembly lines were exploitative, coldly formatted to prioritize profit over people, and greedy.

Rex gained respect, Rex thrived in action-packed environments, Rex ate up every ounce of attention, and Rex.... was just a faulty firecracker designed to maximize your gratification until you decide to recall because he oversupplied, and you wanted more of him in ways that did not correspond to his ideas. Rex changed your world forever.

You couldn't care less about his job, his life, or his friends, not when he was inside of you. But now, that wasn't even enough because of course it wasn't. Rex could work in his place in line, tending to your conveyor belt for hours upon hours in a day, and you'll only ever pay him with half-hearted honeyed affirmations and the occassional peck on the cheek. Yet you'll still command more from him. You were as affectionate as Tyson Foods, or Apple, or Google, or Amazon, or whatever big wig corporation had a CEO with a warm smile and a cold way of life.

There was better than Rex. There always was and always will be.

If you desired, you could get a replacement by next evening.

Rex massaged your spot, whimpering and muttering: "Why.... why are you so quiet, baby? Is it not good enough?"

He sounded.... different from his usual cocky demeanor... scared. It was as though the entirety of his worth as a person, as a man, as Rex Splode, as Rex Sloan... rested between his thighs.

....

The fear that filled his body fueled his fiery passion further as he hoisted you up and pounded. This time, you moaned. An authentic, genuine moan that filled the room and gave Rex the validation he needed to gain that sense of machismo. The kind of masculinity that was as secure as the neglected mechanical cogs on a calculated conveyor belt. Rex was monotonous and loud, but by god did he have a use.

He slides out before slapping himself back in with a clap of flesh while he whispered....

"My baby.... my baby..." He huffs between steamy kisses and loud claps. His words synchronized with the sounds of his thrusts as he continued.... "You're my baby, say it to me...."

You bite your lip, not from pleasure--no, no, no, that candle put itself out long ago--but rather resistance, rebellion, apathy, reluctance, everything that Rex would define as "shitty." But you humored him, striking the match to light his fuse as you pant out, "I'm your baby, Rex. I'm your baby."

Rex was a firecracker you always set off when you wanted a show and you always made sure to set him off into a lake when he was too much. To bet on losing dogs is the very definition of insanity. But Rex places his stamp down and pays the price every time. He knows. He knows that what he's doing is wrong, seeing Kate behind your back, talking to Eve, touching other people, only to bury himself deep into you. He didn't deserve you. He knew that. But he loved you so, so much. You were perfect, affectionate enough to keep him coming, but distant enough that he could never worry about genuinely losing a bet. That was until he heard you laugh with him, not at him, or when you were so forgiving, and loving.... where did you go? You don't even look him in the eyes during sex.

But that night.... you did.

And it gave Rex the foreign feeling of butterfly houses populating with heat insulated.... he couldn't help but hiss at you through clenched teeth, "I wanna feel it.... you looking in my eyes when I come..."

To bet on losing dogs is the very definition of insanity. Deep beneath the depths of his hearth through the cracked stonework and sooted walls of his personhood, lied the burned letter he always sought to ignore.

You don't love him. He can tell by the way you always gaze at his body and dismiss his words, how you craved him for his looks and not his jokes, and how even after you drained him, you still commanded more. You never asked how he was doing, you just always focused on "making him feel better." Except he never did. But he loves you so.... for whatever reason, he does.

He loves you so much that he'll cry to himself over his infidelity even though you couldn't care less if he left you today. He hates himself for it but christ, he needs someone that's you but.... isn't like you. He stopped going after Rae, Kate, and Eve. He started seeking people who looked as close to you as possible. Some nights, he'd even pay a prostitute extra to let him call them by your name, or to dye their hair like yours, and so on. Or when he watches porn.... he always tries to find one where the bodies, the actors, and the sounds were as close to you as possible because he knows it will never truly happen. For once, sex was something that made Rex miserable.... how can he possibly enjoy you when he has to sleep knowing that if it weren't for his anatomy, you would leave?

If he can't make you stay with his jokes, or his meals, or his fireworks from charged coins, he only had one last thing.... his body.

He loves you so much that he actively bets on his losing dog. He sees you and he knows that you are bound to fail him everytime without trying because that's exactly your problem. You don't try.

You don't even care.

He could sit there in his car and scream how he loves you, but whether he screamed in the car alone, or screamed right there in your home you still left him alone. As long as he came back to bed bare, only then would you truly acknowledge him and hold him.

Finally, Rex reached his peak and lets go, only to make sure you reached yours, too. As you cum, it wasn't a powerful crash of waves, it was a poltergeist of pleasure that throbbed throughout your body. But Rex knew this was all he could do. He knows you're bored of him now.

........

In the middle of cuddling you, Rex finally snaps bitterly:

"Why don't you ever say my name when we fuck? You don't even look at me!"

But when he said that, he looked to see you scrolling away on your phone. Inattentive, careless, and inconsiderate as always. He bets on losing dogs.

Then he decided to tell you the truth....

"I've been seeing other people. Kate, Rae, Eve, and others." He confessed whilst firmly looking at you with those green eyes lit with determination; a faulty firework ready to blow up into the lake once more.

He sat there in silence, expecting you to get angry, cry, scream, or do something indicating that you do care about him.

When he is met with silence, he instigated further.

"You tasted her. Every time you went down on me, you tasted them, 'cause I ain't washing my sins, baby!" He exclaimed with bravado, he knew everything. He knew you were just putting on a front.... you do love him, you care for him, that you were worth losing every bet, that you were worth placing every bet down like a deranged gambler, that you weren't his losing dog, that you were his, that he'll break your heart, that he'll make you cry, and then it'll all be okay. He knew---no, he knows, everything. Even if you are dry and you can't keep up, he knows it'll hurt.

But it didn't hurt like he thought it would.

After he confessed his infidelty and clutched his plastic pride, all you did was roll over and tiredly mutter to him,

"Make sure you get tested tomorrow. I don't wanna have to take antibiotics 'cause of you."

And just like that.... you set him off and briefly witnessed his burst into the lake. He gets up, agitated and shouting at you, but you have long fell asleep. Realizing he was losing on your side, he went to the bathroom and wrapped his lips around the faucet before turning it on to the highest setting.

Through gargles, choked sobs, fizzled sorrows, and longing ambers being flooded by metallic water, he coughs up remains before pulling out the diamond ring in his pocket. It wasn't flashy, it was cheap, but it was a promise. The promise to be better, the promise to stay by your side, the promise.... to bet on another losing dog.

With a somber gaze that pawned off his emerald eyes, Rex places the ring onto the sink; ready to place down yet another stamp that's long dried after so many bets. The diamond was starting to yellow. He didn't hurt like he thought it would.... he told you the truth with the hopes of having your love at last, and all you did was reduce him to a urine sample. All Rex is left with a quiet place to scream how he loves you. He knows that the promise to stay by your side is a guarantee lose, but he's become nothing but a poor gambler.

So he fizzles into the bowl of the sink, and bursts into the lake... ready to work another shift in the assembly line that was your manufactured love. He'd bet on losing dogs anyday. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Because to bet on losing dogs, to fail by your side, to be stuck in your assembly line, was to know everything.

(If you’re not taking requests at the moment, I am so sorry and you can ignore this)

I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I have ever come across Sweet Home smut- It just doesn’t exist in this fandom (which makes sense considering how small it is) but damn does it make me sad😔 Would you provide a thirsty Hyuk fan some NSFW headcanons? I’m desperate to know what others think about him

I could, but I need to know ur age. I've been dealing with minors interacting lately.

How do I get fire text? :)

lord the peasants are so loud today

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

Hiya!🎶

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

JAMES SUNDERLAND X fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable!

summary; cuddle fucking w james :)

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

nsfw content below!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whoa this gave me an idea based on the Transmasc James headcanon someone online made. What if Pyramid Head symbolized internalized homophobia? Like, James is in the 90s (I think that's when Silent Hill 2 takes place???), he had a beautiful wife like he was "supposed to have," he loved her, he murdered her, and while the Bubble headed nurses symbolize sexual frustration, what if the beefy Pyramid Head, the hyper masculine humanoid who's aggressive and is a polar opposite to James's more passive nature symbolizes guilt for his murder and guilt for being bisexual, desire to be a "real man," while also having some frusturation with his sexuality?

Hey man, why did the deepest level of your subconscious thoughts manifest that?

Getting spitroasted by Rex and Mark would cure me of all my ailments.

Rex Splode + Me + Invincible = Eiffel Tower! 🥳