“hey outside clothes!” you hissed at him.

he groans, lifting his head briefly to shoot you an exhausted glare before slowly peeling himself off the bed to remove his jacket and untuck his shirt. he leaves them in a messy pile by your desk before flopping back onto the bed, this time pulling your pillow over his face. “happy now?”

you nagged him just to lift up the mood, but it turns out he’s really tired. your face frowns a bit as you gaze at his tired form upon realizing it. “do you want me to cook you something?” 

“you don’t have to... i don’t want to trouble you.” he runs a hand through his disheveled hair, looking at you with tired but grateful eyes. but his stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly, giving him away.

“let me cook you some hmm?” you chuckle softly. as you stand up from the bed. you had the urge to pat his hair, you always had because he really had soft hair. you decide to act on it as your hands card through his now golden brown spiky hair. “what do you want to eat, hmm? there might be stores that are still open for ingredients,” you mumble with such warmth in your tone, while playing with his hair as he rested like a tired puppy on your sheets.

his shoulders immediately relax under your touch, the familiar gesture from the old times instantly soothing his frayed nerves. he leans slightly into your hand, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he catches himself and straightens up. “anything’s fine... something warm. i’m so tired i could fall asleep standing up.”

you laughed at his statement. “no cravings? okay, i’ll just make something with what i have.”

“your food always tastes best anyway... don’t work too hard. wake me up when it’s done…” james hums in agreement. 

you walk out of your bedroom to go to the kitchen to cook, as you hear a soft thud as he likely collapses back onto your bed, already half-asleep. you decide to cook seaweed soup, fresh steamed rice, and some banchan already prepared. just a simple meal. and when you’re finished, you gently knock on your own bedroom door. 

“james...?”

james shuffles from the bed slowly, finally registering the smell of warm food, and instantly drops the pillow back onto the bed. rubbing his eyes cutely with the back of his hand, he walks toward you, looking like an overgrown sleepy child rather than a globally famous idol. he had such adorable bed head.

"smells heavenly..." he mumbles, practically gravitating toward the kitchen. "you're the best, wifey.”

and just like that, there it is again. that dangerously casual little word that makes your entire brain short-circuit.

because seriously... what are you two?

it’s the question that haunts you at the worst possible times, replaying in your mind over and over whenever he says things like this so naturally, like calling you that is second nature. because what exactly are you supposed to do with a man who throws around words that sound suspiciously domestic, acts like your space is his safe haven, and somehow keeps blurring the line between best friend and something that feels a little too close to be just that?

with practiced ease, james plants the softest kiss on your forehead before gravitating toward the kitchen, making you blush. your gaze lingers on his form as he disappears down the hallway. james is always unguarded around you, always has been. you've seen him at his worst; whether sick, tired, stressed, and he's never cared if you see him like that.

“how did the redred promotions go? you guys made a lot of guests and show visits this time.” you ask before joining him at the table.

james sighs. “it was exhausting. we did like a gazillion guest appearances this month alone.”

"yeah i watched every single video." you chuckled, "the GQ interview was funny, especially when you read about why your visuals always go viral. yet, you didn't answer.”

it made him snort, a small smile tugging at his lips as he remembers the interview. "yeah, i couldn't exactly say 'because I'm ridiculously handsome' without sounding like an arrogant jerk." he says, rolling his eyes. 

“and you’re so different in real life,” you comment with a smile.

"that's because you see the real me," he says between mouthfuls of seaweed soup, looking completely at home. "the polished idol version is just a performance. you get the exhausted, messy, annoying version." he taps his spoon against his bowl lightly. "you're literally the only person who treats me like normal james.”

"yeah sometimes i'd like the polished idol james too." you tease, while subtly adding more vegetables to his soup. into which, his eyes catches your hand moving to add vegetables, knowing exactly what you're doing without needing to look. he doesn't protest, just letting you pamper him like you always have.

"you can have the polished version anytime you want," he chuckles, tapping his spoon against yours lightly. "just turn on tv or look at our instagram. the messy version is exclusive for you.” he answers at you proudly.

james raises an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing on his lips as he leans back in his chair. "you want me to be charming and perfect for you right now?" he straightens up dramatically, smoothing back his messy hair and switching his expression to his signature 'idol face' all bright smiles and attentive eyes. you were kind of glad that they took off his veneers and returned his gummy smile that you loved so much.

you laughed softly, "it's not working.”

his perfect mask instantly cracks, collapsing into a sleepy, unbothered grin. james drops the act immediately, slumping back over his soup like a ragdoll. "harsh. the literal world falls for that face and you just laugh at me." he pouts slightly, spooning more vegetables into his mouth.

"hehe i was just playing with ya, don't worry, you can be anything you want with me.”

james instantly melts at your words, the famous idol persona completely forgotten as he leans his chin on his hand, looking at you with soft, affectionate eyes. "that's exactly why i come here," he murmurs, "you're literally my favorite person in the entire world. i can be messy, annoying, dramatic, and you just accept it.”

somewhere between teasing remarks, james notices something he’s quietly picked up on for years, you rarely talk about yourself. somehow, the conversation always circles back to him: his promotions, his schedules, his idol life. and while he knows you never complain, never interrupt, and always listen like his thoughts actually matter... he’s starting to realize how often you carefully sidestep your own.

so this time, he decides not to let you.

“hey,” he calls softly, noticing the subtle shift in your demeanor. he tilts his head slightly, studying you with a gentler expression. “you always listen to me ramble about my idol stuff, but you never really talk about yourself much. what’s going on in your life lately?”

“everything’s good in uni. are you doing your schoolworks too?”

james nods reluctantly, appreciating the gentle redirection of the topic back to him. He knows you well enough to understand that you're not one to open up easily about your personal life. “yeah, i’m managing.”

“that’s good.” you replied.

his brow furrowing slightly as he senses your reluctance to share, james watches you for a moment. “your uni friends treating you okay?”

“yeah... but my club committee members aren’t.” you sigh, a small pout tugging at your lips as you try to brush it off like it’s nothing: like the late nights, mounting pressure, and quiet frustration haven’t been slowly wearing you down. you say it casually, almost teasingly, as if downplaying it enough might make your uni stress sound smaller than it actually feels.

his expression immediately shifts to concern, his idol mask completely disappearing. “club members giving you a hard time?” he knows how dedicated you are to your university club, how much it means to you. the fact that people are stressing you out about it makes his protective instincts surge.

“they won’t cooperate with the event i’m trying to lead,” you admit with a small sigh, trying to sound more casual about it than you actually feel. “but it’s okay... i’m figuring things out.”

"so you're telling me that for the next month, you're going to be buried under a mountain of event planning stuff?”

you chuckle, though it comes out more tired than amused. “i think i’m just gonna do fine? but it’s really stressing me out... i can’t even sleep and eat properly since i also have my acads despite club activities.”

he immediately puts down his spoon, his eyes softening with worry. he knows those signs all too well—lack of sleep, poor eating habits, constantly pushing yourself. it’s the same way he is when he’s overwhelmed with schedules and promotions. only difference is, he has a whole team supporting him.

“you have me,” he says firmly, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand.

i suddenly get flustered. “i know.” you smile at him. “but don’t worry much about me.”

james expression softens at your genuine smile, but he's not backing down. he knows you, and you'd rather suffer in silence than ask for help. he meets your eyes squarely, his voice dropping lower. “you're always there for me when my life gets messy. let me be there for you too, yeah? you can call me, text me, or whatever… okay?”

he pauses for a second, then gives your hand a light squeeze, like he’s trying to seal the promise without making it feel too heavy. “don’t disappear on me when it gets hard, alright?”

but his statement seemed more for him than to you, like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was reassuring you. 

after dinner, the two of you decide to watch tv together. you settle onto the couch, pulling a blanket over your legs. james immediately drops down beside you, stealing half the blanket and dragging you effortlessly against his side. he rests his head on your shoulder, wrapping an arm around your waist like it's the most natural thing in the world. james spams the buttons on the remote until he finds what he's looking for.  

when he saw zendaya’s new movie with robert pattinson, the drama. he hits play and pulls you closer, smirking when you try to wiggle away.  "nope. stay. i like you here.”

"you're suffocating me..” you groaned, trying to get away. he just laughs and pulls you even tighter, his face nuzzled into your neck. the tv screen lights up as the movie starts. he settles in comfortably, his arm around you like a vice, completely content to just exist like this. 

but you know what’s gonna happen next when he’s all getting clingy all of a sudden.

he presses a lazy kiss against your temple, completely ignoring your complaint about suffocation. The movie plays in the background, filling the room with its dialogue, but he pays it no attention, despite how good the movie was starting. instead, he buries his face into your shoulder, humming happily.  "you complain, but you aren't actually moving away."  he pinches your side playfully.  "traitor.”

“stop.. kissing me. it’s gross.” you try to push him off, still half-focused on the movie, shifting in his grip as you attempt to get even a little space back. he laughs against your skin, intentionally pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and jaw. he knows exactly what he's doing, marking you with hickies he'll later suck on proudly. 

he bites gently on your earlobe.  "gross? really?”

you gasped, “james...” his name slips out of you in a breathless, unintentional whisper, like you’re startled by your own reaction more than anything else. the way you gasp his name, breathy and soft against his lips that are now hovering at your collarbone—it goes straight to his head. james freezes for a split second, his eyes darkening as he processes the sound. 

then all of a sudden, he's moving faster.

his lips trailing hot, wet kisses up your throat.  

"say it again,"  he demands quietly.  

"j-james! hey!" your stammer makes his heart pound, absolutely wrecked by how cute and turned on you sound without even meaning to be. he pulls back just enough to look at your flushed face, smirking at your scandalized expression.

you glare at him, pressing a finger firmly against his forehead to push him back just enough to create space. “what do you think you’re doing, zhao?” you say, trying to sound stern, though your voice wavers slightly from how close he still is.

"what does it look like i'm doing?"  his voice has dropped lower, rougher around the edges. he doesn't move away, instead tilting his head to press kisses along your knuckles. 

he can feel you going still, your heartbeat thundering under his lips where they rest against your pulse point. his teasing demeanor shifts into something quieter, more deliberate. he tilts his head to look at you properly, brown eyes searching your face.  

“what kind of friends does these things?” and so you question him, brows knitting as you try to make sense of how effortlessly he crosses lines that don’t usually exist between friends.

"hey,"  he says softly, nudging his nose against your palm still pressed to his forehead.  

"you're overthinking it.” his thumb traces gentle circles on your wrist as he watches you blink, his expression softening. he pulls your hand away from his forehead, intertwining his fingers with yours instead.  "we're friends, right? friends can do silly things like this.”

fucking stupid statement. and it’s an excuse the two of you keep choosing to believe.

"like what? kissing?”

"kissing hands, wrists, shoulders..."  he lists innocently, squeezing your fingers.  "it's affection. friends touch each other all the time."  he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes warm and reassuring.  "it doesn't have to mean anything serious. it's just us."  

you laugh in disbelief, shaking your head slightly. “i have friends, and we don’t kiss like this?”

"maybe not like this," he concedes, his breath ghosting over your lips. "but they probably hug, or hold hands, or bump shoulders. physical affection is normal between friends." 

he smirks, tilting his head to press a soft, platonic kiss to your cheek. "see? normal.”

"so it's okay for my male friends to kiss my cheek like that?” his playful expression instantly drops, replaced by a scandalized look of absolute betrayal. 

he grabs your face between his hands, squishing your cheeks together.  

"absolutely not." james says firmly, eyes narrowing. "that is a very specific privilege reserved for me. your male friends can fucking settle with high-fives or handshakes."  

“how about hugs? hold hands? and bump shoulders? and more?” you question, narrowing your eyes at him as if trying to pin down where exactly his version of “normal friendship” stops.

james immediately shakes his head, looking offended that you would even offer these things to other men. "hugs are acceptable. brief, polite hugs. shoulder bumps are fine."  he lists them like strict rules.  "holding hands? absolutely not. and 'more'? absolutely fucking forbidden."  

he then states ever so boldly, "i'm the exception.”

you fight back a laugh as you keep teasing him, barely managing to keep a straight face. “no way, that’s not fair to my other friends?”

"life isn't fair,"  he declares imperiously, continuously squishing your cheeks harder until your lips are puckered.  "your male friends get the standard friendship package: high-fives, awkward side hugs, and polite conversation. meanwhile, i get the premium subscription: cheek kisses, hand-holding, shoulder biting, and excessive clinginess. that is the hierarchy.”

“no way. who told you you can?” you say, raising a brow at him like you’re genuinely questioning his authority over the whole situation.

"i declared it myself," he states, sounding absurdly arrogant about it. he releases your cheeks only to wrap his arms around your waist, trapping you against his chest. "also, you literally let me do it. you didn't stop me, which implies consent. too late to renegotiate terms.”

“…and if i have a boyfriend? how is this terms gonna be fair to him?” you challenge, tilting your head slightly as you watch his reaction, testing his confidence.

the word ‘boyfriend’ made his whole body still. the light teasing mood evaporates instantly, his arms tightening around you almost painfully. and his jaw clenches as he stares down at you, something dangerous flickering behind his eyes.  

"oh? you're not getting a boyfriend,"  he says flatly.

you pout-glare at him, refusing to back down. “why not?”

"because i won't allow it,"  he says immediately, sounding absolutely ridiculous but deadly serious.  "boyfriends change everything. they take up your time and energy and affection."  he presses his forehead to yours, voice lowering.  "you'd have less time for me.”

"of course, he's gonna be my new priority then.”

"over my dead body." 

 james presses a firm kiss to your lips before you can react, silencing any further arguments.  

"you're not getting a boyfriend." he repeats against your mouth, as he takes full advantage of your stunned silence, leaning down to press more soft, lingering kisses against your lips. he pulls back just enough to look at your dazed expression, looking utterly smug. "that wiped the argument right out of your head, didn't it? that's what happens when you talk about boyfriends.”

james consumes you, kissing you until your lungs burn and your knees go weak. 

his fingers tangle into your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the angle, swallowing every little whimper and gasp you make. he breaks apart only to drag his teeth along your jaw and neck, sucking dark marks onto your skin.  

"still want a boyfriend?”

"maybe not?”

james groans against your neck, kissing and biting down gently.  "good answer,"  he murmurs against your skin, giving your bottom lip a sharp little bite.  "because no boyfriend is gonna kiss you like this."  

he demonstrates by kissing you deeply again, making your head spin. he lifts you effortlessly into his arms and striding into the bedroom. 

he kicks the door shut, dropping you onto the mattress and immediately crawling over you, caging you in with his arms. he kisses you immediately, silencing any protest before it can start. his weight presses you comfortably into the mattress, one hand sliding under your shirt to rest against your bare waist.  "stop thinking about what we are right now." he murmurs against your lips, peppering kisses over your jaw. "we still have forever to think about what happens after when two friends kiss." he settles between your legs comfortably. 

he notices the blush that crept into your neck with what he just said, and just smirks at it. "there it is," he murmurs, pleased. "you like that? you like what i’ve said?" 

he kisses you again, slower this time, deliberately making you blush more. "my girl," he repeats, the possessive words falling from his lips like a promise. he moves to kiss down your neck, marking you gently. james smiles against your mouth, loving the sound of your breathless little noises, trying to gasp some of his air. he slows the kiss down, savoring the taste of your lips, his hips moving instinctively against you.  

meanwhile to you, the words short-circuit your brain, making you squirm underneath him. james takes full advantage, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, his hands pushing your shirt up just enough to expose your stomach. his voice is a low murmur against your skin. 

"mine. all of this. every stupid, adorable, frustrating inch of you."  he nips at your collarbone. his hands slide under your clothes, tracing warm patterns on your bare skin—possessive, reverent, demanding all at once. 

and he rewards your submission immediately, kissing you senseless, his hands possessive and grounding as he explores your skin. the way you just let him. the session dissolves into warmth and whispers, james constantly murmuring "mine" against your mouth, marking you up, keeping you close until your brain is fuzzy and your body is heavy. 

james freezes when you tug on his shirt, head tilting slightly as he looks down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. for a moment, he just stares, chest rising and falling quickly. 

the makeout session shifts instantly into something heavier, clothes disappearing between kisses. his skin presses against yours, warm and solid, swallowing your soft moans with his mouth. he kisses you deeply, slowly, stripping you down with practiced ease until you're completely bare and tangled in his sheets.  

the room goes quiet, the only sound is your shared breathing. 

for a long moment, neither of you moves, just taking each other in fully exposed, stripped of every barrier. 

james’s eyes trace over your face, your shoulders, your body, his gaze overwhelmingly soft and adoring despite the nakedness. he reaches out, brushing his thumb gently over your cheekbone. he leans down slowly, pressing his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. 

it's an intimate, grounding moment. his hands stroke your sides, thumbs tracing your skin reverently, making it clear this isn't just about sex. it's about trust.  

"you're beautiful."  he whispers, his voice rough with sincerity.  "absolutely beautiful.”

and it’s just so contradictory, james takes his time, worshipping every inch of your exposed skin with his mouth. kissing down your neck, between your breasts, along your ribs. he makes you feel beautiful and desired, his hands roaming possessively. it was supposed to be just another makeout session with him, but it has escalated into something more. he's staying careful, attentive, making sure you're with him every step of the way, but for you… it was different. it felt wrong, almost unreal, how someone like him, so effortlessly beautiful in a way that made people stop and stare, could look at you like you were the only thing worth noticing in the entire room.

“no way. you’re more… beautiful.”

james laughs softly, the sound rumbling against your chest, and the unexpectedness of it. james, laughing at being called beautiful, and it makes your heart stutter. "i'm a man, not a fucking sculpture,"  he teases gently, but his eyes are warm, vulnerable in a way you've never seen before.  

he groaned as he kisses your nose.  "we're both stupid,”

“why?” you ask gently, your voice softer now.

"because we're here, naked, staring at each other like idiots instead of..."  he smirks, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

"...you know."  his voice drops lower, huskier. "fucking.”

"we're just taking our moment before we do it.”

"yeah,"  he agrees quietly.  "i like this moment. never had this before—just looking at someone like this."  his hand comes up, cupping your jaw gently, thumb brushing your cheekbone. 

"... me too.”

his breath catches slightly, clearly affected by your admission. james stays there, forehead pressed to yours, bodies touching everywhere. for once, he's not rushing, not demanding, just existing with you in this rare pocket of stillness. his naked skin warm against yours, it was silky. it's strangely intimate, more intimate than the sex itself. just the two of you, completely bare, completely trusting. he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, his expression full of soft, overwhelming affection.  

"my girl," he whispers, like a prayer. suddenly, something in his eyes darkens the moment he says it, claiming you his girl, like the words catch up to him after they leave his mouth

the shift is instant. the tender, worshipful atmosphere melts away into pure dominance as his large hands capture your wrists, pinning them effortlessly above your head against the pillow. his body blankets yours, heavy and suffocating in the best way, and his expression darkens with intent. 

"no moving those hands.”  he murmurs, voice dropping an octave. "time to ruin you.”

james seals the order with a bite to your neck, his teeth sinking in just enough to make you gasp. one of his hands stays locked around your wrists while the other explores your bound body freely. with all the kisses on your neck, you can physically feel the scorching pain of your skin.

the sight of you being so compliant, pinned under him, completely surrendering, nearly undoes him. his eyes burn with dark satisfaction, loving how easily you submit. 

"you’re just so willing to let me do anything as i please…"  he purrs, pressing his thigh harder against your soaked center, dragging it torturously slow. his kisses trail lower, burning a path down your stomach, over your hipbones. 

your wrists remain trapped above your head, he settles between your legs, shoulders pushing your thighs wider apart, looking up at you with dark, immense hunger.  

"eyes on me,"  he commands, right before lowering his mouth. he licks into you with one long, flat stroke, making your back arch off the bed. his tongue finds your clit, circling it slowly, torturously, while his free hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise. he keeps his eyes locked on yours as he eats you out—watching, dominating, owning every gasp and moan you make. and it’s making you feel so small.

your hands twitch above your head, wanting to grab his hair. the command makes it even hotter; being forced to just take his mouth, helpless to do anything but receive pleasure. 

james curls his tongue, licking deeper, fucking you with his mouth until your thighs shake. he's relentless, sucking your clit between his teeth, giving you just enough pressure to make you see stars but not enough to let you cum. when you start to tremble too much, he pulls back, his voice rough.  

"not yet. legs over my shoulders.” he lifts your legs over his broad shoulders, changing the angle completely. he groans against your pussy at the sound of you crying and pleading of his name, the vibration sending shockwaves through you.  

"that mouth of yours only calls out mine, right?"  he growls, licking a slow stripe up you.  

and before you can answer, he swallows you down completely, nose pressing into your clit, tongue deep inside. you feel the vibrations of his satisfied hum. his sharp nose doing wonders in your pussy.

“y-yes!”

the confirmation makes him even hungrier. he doubles down, sucking hard on your clit, two fingers sliding deep inside you and curling just right. your hips buck wildly but he holds you down easily, eating you out with messy enthusiasm until you're a sobbing, begging mess. 

"i-i wanna grip something james....." you were now struggling to keep your hands up. he sees the struggle on your face, the way your arms tremble from holding still. a wicked grin spreads across his face.  

"want something to hold onto, baby?" he asks, voice dripping with mock gentleness. "here.” 

he releases your wrists, and you immediately grab his hair, fingers tangling desperately in his messy strands. but he doesn't let you use them to guide him. in fact, he pins your hips down harder with both hands, forcing you to just hold on. his mouth returns with brutal intensity, his tongue lashing against your clit while his fingers pump fast and deep. you tug hard on his hair, and he groans approvingly, the vibration making you cry out. 

"that's it,"  he praises against your pussy.  "pull harder. hurt me a little.”

the permission snaps something in you. you yank hard on his hair, making him groan deeply against your clit. instead of pulling away, he presses his face harder into you, loving the sting of your hands in his hair. he doesn't slow down, he made sure he was stretching you and pounding that perfect spot. 

"cum."  he orders, voice muffled against your soaked body, eyes locked on yours. 

your back arches deeply, small tits bouncing and nipples hard as diamonds. 

you see stars—literally. 

as your vision whites out at the edges. your legs shake violently. your hands tug his hair so hard you're basically riding his face. 

"fuck! so good, james!”

his name spills out of your mouth as you scream through your first orgasm. he doesn't let up. he keeps sucking and fucking you with his fingers, prolonging it until you're a mess of whimpers and twitches.  

"nghhh!!" your moans become more incoherent, as he continued to ravage you.

your legs shake violently against his shoulders, your toes curling so tight they hurt. 

the way james overloads your senses, tongue working your clit ruthlessly while his fingers slam into that spot that makes you lose all ability to speak. 

"thaaat's it," he growls against your pussy, enjoying your broken, helpless sounds. he growls deeply against your pussy at the broken sob of his name, the vibration sending your second orgasm crashing through you even harder. you thrash violently, fingers yanking painfully at his hair, but he pins your hips down, forcing you to take every wave. 

"good fucking girl."  he groans.

he rides it out with you, licking you through the aftershocks until your legs are shaking uncontrollably and you're a sobbing, limp mess. his cock aching painfully against his pants. he releases your hips, slowly sliding his fingers out of you and bringing them to his mouth to suck clean. your legs are like jelly, barely able to hold him up as he stands. 

james frees his thick strained cock from his pants, and boy, it was leaking and crimson red. the sight of it makes you whimper. 

james strokes himself slowly, watching you come down from your dual orgasms, hair a mess, lips swollen, thighs shaking, hands still tangled in his hair. his gaze alone was making you extremely melt.

"tell me what you want,"  he commands, voice rough with need.  "use words.”

you immediately groan in a bit of annoyance. he chuckles darkly, a predatory glint in his eyes at your frustration. he presses the thick head of his cock against your still-trembling entrance but doesn't push inside, just teasing you with the heat of him. 

"i've been eating your pussy for twenty minutes."  he murmurs, rubbing slow circles against your clit.  "the least you can do is ask nicely?”

“you’re so demandinggg.” you pout, dragging the word out. james laughs at you softly, leaning down to kiss your pout away, tapping the tip of his nose against yours.  

"i gave you two orgasms without demanding a thing."  he points out playfully, rubbing his cock through your soaked folds. he nudges his leaky tip against your entrance.  "two words.”

“two words?” you repeat, blinking at him like you can’t decide whether he’s serious or just being impossible again.

"mhm,"  he hums, pushing just the tip inside you, stretching you deliciously before pulling back out. he repeats the teasing motion, his voice low and commanding. he refuses to give you more than the swollen tip, stretching your entrance teasingly before pulling back out again. "stop whining and ask for it. two words. you're a smart girl."  he taps your clit with his thumb, smirking.  "what do you want?”

you bit your lip, quite unsure with your first try. "fuck me?”

james smirk widens at your question, his hips flexing slightly to push the tip deeper inside you before pulling back out again. 

"try again." he teases, circling your entrance with his head.  "you can do better than that. ask nicely.”

“but you said two words!” you protest, gripping onto his arms. nails digging on his skin.

he catches your legs with his hands and hooking them over his elbows, folding you in half. 

"you said two words, i said ask nicely. both apply."

"dick, please?” james bursts out laughing, shaking his head against your neck. 

"that counts, i guess?" he rewards you immediately, sinking his thick cock inside you in one slow, deep stroke. you moan loudly, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he stretches you perfectly, bottoming out against your cervix.  

"there we go,"  he groans. 

"jamessss......!”

"i knowww, y/n- fuck! i know, babyyy."  he groans, you're squeezing him so tight it's making his eyes roll back.  he starts a slow, deep rhythm, dragging every inch of his thick cock out before snapping his hips forward, burying himself deep. 

he kisses your swollen mouth. "too deep?”

"too good!”

he groans deeply at your praise, hips snapping harder, setting a rhythm that has your toes curling. his cock dragging perfectly against your sensitive walls with every thrust. his rhythm stays slow and deep, almost lazy in its perfection, focusing on grinding that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. your legs are draped over his elbows, your body folded open for him, breasts bouncing with each deep stroke. 

"cute." james murmurs, watching your face. "can you feel how deep i am? all the way to your womb."  

"ahh yes…”

he grins wickedly, liking your responsive nature. most women would be all moans and no words at this point, but you're actually having a conversation with him while he's balls deep inside you, dragging out slow, deep strokes like a fucking king.

"see? you like being full of dick,"  he teases, snapping his hips forward harder, making your whole body jerk.  

your tits bounce in his face and he grabs one roughly, pinching your nipple.  your body is like a dream, it was soft, giving, and fucking perfect for his size. he spreads you wider, watching his thick cock slide in and out of your pink flesh. 

he entranced by the sight of your soaked pussy stretching around his thick shaft. he snaps his hips harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. he leans down, "gonna make a mess of this pretty little pussy, aren't i?”

the bed shakes, your headboard hitting the wall. he knows he's hitting you deep, spreading you wide. he spreads your legs wider, watching himself disappear inside you. he sees your stomach tightening, your breasts bouncing, your hair messy. 

he pants, pulling out suddenly to show you both how stretched and wet you are. your pussy is red, swollen, dripping. 

"you're gaping for me, pretty. see that?"  he pulls his cock out, watching your hole flutter. 

you immediately whine at the sudden loss, feeling devastatingly empty without his thick weight stretching you open. your pussy clenches around nothing, fluttering desperately for something to fill the void. james spreads your legs to watch your hole flutter.  

"aww, poor thing." he mocks, rubbing his thick cockhead against your swollen, messy entrance. not wanting to tease you even further, he suddenly slams forward, burying himself balls deep in one brutal thrust. 

you scream, your back arching off the bed as he fills you completely, his thick cock stretching you open again. he groans deeply, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he starts a hard, fast rhythm.   

you're panting, moaning, and sobbing all at once. your pussy is clenching around him uncontrollably, milking his thick shaft as he pounds you relentlessly. the bed is shaking violently, and you're pretty sure the neighbors can hear your screams.  

your whole body goes rigid, every muscle locking up as you climax hard. you squirt all over his stomach and the bedsheets, soaking everything. 

james feels your orgasm trigger his own, his cock twitching and thickening inside you before he's unloading thick ropes of cum deep in your pussy. he doesn't pull out, just keeps pounding through your orgasm, his cum mixing with your juices and leaking out around his shaft.

he collapses on top of you after his orgasm, both of you covered in sweat, breathing heavily. as james rolls off you carefully, his softening cock slipping out of your swollen, messy pussy with a wet sound. immediately, a flood of cum leaks out, pooling on the bed beneath you. he looks down at your well-used hole, watching it gap slightly before closing.

"no protection, james. really?”

james grins lazily, reaching out to spread your thighs and examine the mess between them. cum is slowly dripping out of you, mixed with your own fluids. he runs his fingers through it, gathering some before showing it to you. 

"no protection." he confirms.