#frat!jp

No one was fool enough to make the two of you spend seven minutes in a tight closet together; murder could be one of the safest things to happen behind that door. Besides, this game was nothing more than an excuse cooked up by Sirius to finally corner Remus and make out with him, so no one dared to push the issue. James muttered something unintelligible under his breath, leaning back against the sofa and tossing a stray peanut shell at your head, while you casually flipped him off, settling back into your seat as the game awkwardly moved on.

The bass from the living room rattled the floorboards under your sneakers, vibrating right through the linoleum of the upstairs hallway. You leaned your shoulder against the wall, the screen of your phone glowing brightly in the dim light as you tapped out a rescue text to your roommate.

Get your car around front rn, I'm begging u, you typed.

Before you could hit send, a shadow fell over you. A hand landed on top of your head, fingers casually ruffling your hair.

"I didn't mean it that way," James said, his voice dropping into a raspy register.

"Right, because 'I'd prefer to shoot myself' is universally known as a term of endearment," you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Come on," he muttered. "It wasn't about you. It was about... us. Everyone in that room already treats us like a ticking time bomb. I just didn't want to deal with the commentary."

"So, your brilliant solution was to humiliate me instead?"

"I didn't humiliate you; you launched an attack back!" He let out a short laugh. "Besides, you told me to bring a gun. Harsh, by the way."

"You deserve it," you muttered.

James stepped closer, trapping you between the wall and his shoulder, his eyes dropping briefly to your lips before locking back onto your eyes.

"For the record," James’ voice softening, "if it hadn't been a room full of people staring at us... I wouldn't have minded the closet at all."

You let out a disbelieving huff, leaning your head back against the wall. "I don't know what kind of sick joke this is, but…"

"It's not a joke," he cut you off.

His hand moved from your head, trailing down the side of your neck before sliding lower, coming to rest right at the edge of your skirt. Your breath hitched, the casual sarcasm dying on your tongue. The pads of his fingers brushed against the skin of your thigh.

"You don't have an idea," James murmured, his gaze dropping to your mouth and then back up, "of what seeing you in these fucking miniskirts you always wear does to me."

His thumb traced a slow circle against the hem of the fabric, right where it sat high on your leg.

"James..." you started, the protest sounding weak even to your own ears.

"I've spent the entire night watching every single guy in that room look at you," he interrupted again, leaning in until his forehead nearly grazed yours, his breath smelling faintly of whiskey and mint. "And every time you cross your legs or laugh at one of their stupid jokes, I want to tear this entire house apart just to get you alone. To be inside you filling that pretty pussy with my cum."

You didn't even think before shot your hand, your fingers tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck. You yanked him toward you with desperate, hungry violence, crashing your lips against his.

The moment your mouth met his, a guttural grown tore from the back of his throat. His hands sliding from the hem of your skirt up to your hips, and he hoisted you right off the floor.

Your legs automatically parted, wrapping tight around his waist, locking your ankles together behind his back. Even through the heavy layers of denim and the thin fabric of your clothes, you couldn't miss the rigid, heavy outline of his cock pressing hard and demanding against you.

The friction alone made your breath catch, a sharp gasp escaping into his mouth. James took full advantage of the opening, his tongue plunging past your lips.

You pushed back a fraction, breaking the kiss just enough to drag in a ragged breath of cool air. "James..." you whispered.

He hummed a low sound against your collarbone. "Mmm?"

"Someone could see us."

"And that's a problem because...?" he murmured, a wicked, teasing lilt slipping back into his voice, though his hands never loosened their grip on your hips.

And before you could formulate a reply, he started backing down the dimly lit hallway without stopping kissing you, planting open-mouthed kisses across your jawline, sliding down the sensitive curve of your throat, and dragging hot, wet friction right over the neckline of your top.

He navigated the hallway entirely by muscle memory, his boots shuffling backward until his shoulders hit the heavy wooden door of a bathroom. With a swift twist of the knob, he shouldered it open, plunging the two of you safely away from the party downstairs. He kicked the door shut behind him with a dull thud, locking it with a sharp click that echoed loudly in the small space.

Without missing a beat, James set you down right on the edge of the porcelain sink, stepping seamlessly into the space between your thighs as they fell open around his hips.

You looked up at him through your lashes with wide eyes, your teeth sinking nervously into your lower lip.

"Stop doing that," his voice dropping to a rough whisper as he stepped in even closer, trapping you between his arms.

"Doing what?" you murmured, a defiant challenge lacing your tone.

"Looking at me like that," James replied, his hands sliding up your thighs, bunching the fabric of your mini skirt higher with every inch.

His mouth crashed down onto yours again, harder this time, swallowing your breath as his hands found bare skin, gripping your hips with an urgent heat.

"You want me inside you?" James pauses enough to pull back a bit, his heavy-lidded eyes searching your face.

"Yeah..." the word slipping past your parted lips like a confession.

Then James's hands moved with sudden speed to the waistband of his jeans to unbuckle his belt and popped the button open, shoving the denim down along with his boxers. He freed his cock, the heat radiating off him filling the space between you as he stepped even closer, slotting himself perfectly between your thighs.

His gaze locked onto yours as his hand slid between your thighs. He hooked his fingers into the delicate fabric of your panties, shoving the damp fabric aside. Without breaking eye contact, he brought his other hand up, pressed two fingers against his lips, and coated them with a thick drag of saliva and drove them straight inside you.

You were already so achingly ready for him that his fingers buried deep with zero resistance, stretching and filling you in a way that made your toes curl.

James groaned as he hooked his knuckles upward, finding that sensitive spot against your front wall. He began to move his fingers, curling them just right while his thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing a circle that instantly sent wild shocks racing straight up your spine.

He took his fingers out of you, making a desperate whimper slip past your lips, leaving you suddenly feeling empty. Then James grabbed the base of his cock, guiding it right to your entrance. He pressed the thick head against your slick, trembling folds, teasing you with slow strokes that rubbed his heat against your sensitive clit.

"Open for me," he muttered against your neck as he dragged the tip up and down, coating himself in your wetness.

You parted your thighs wider, gripping his shoulders. He gripped your hips tight, aligned himself with your core, and drove forward, burying his length completely inside you in one deep, seamless thrust.

The sheer fullness of him stretching you open ripped a wrecked gasp from your throat. Your heels dug hard into his back, locking him against you as his dick filled you to the absolute hilt.

James threw his head back, his eyes slamming shut as your walls clamped down around his length. For a second, neither of you moved.

Then James’ eyes snapped back open, dark and feral with hunger.

"God, you're so fucking tight," he panted. "Exactly where you belong."

He set a brutal, relentless pace, sliding in and out of you with wet, echoing slaps against your thighs that drowned out the muffled music thumping from downstairs.

"Fuck," James growled. "I want to fill you up so deep. I want you completely soaked in my cum."

The sheer, overwhelming force of his words hooked straight into the most primal part of your brain, overriding thought, reason, and every last shred of pride you had left.

"James, please, fill me," you sobbed out, the words tearing past your lips in a broken, desperate plea. "Please, God, fill me up…"

His eyes dilated until the irises were nearly black, burning.

He choked, his hips stuttering mid-thrust at the sheer devastation of hearing you beg for it. "You want my seed inside you? You want me to fill this pussy right up to the brim?"

He didn't wait for an answer, already knowing what you'd say, already needing to hear you scream it again. He abandoned any semblance of a gentle rhythm, his large hands sliding down from your hips to grip the flesh of your ass, lifting you an inch off the porcelain just so he could slam you back down onto his cock with a devastating impact.

The angle shifted instantly, his length hitting a spot so deep and agonizingly sensitive inside you that your entire body arched violently against him.

"Look at me," James commanded. "Look at me and tell me whose cunt is this?"

"Yours… James, yours," you wailed, your thighs trembling as he continued to pound into you.

"That's right," his chest heaving against yours, sweat slicking his skin and dripping from his hair to land on your collarbone. He slowed the pace down just enough to be torturous, burying himself to the absolute hilt, holding himself entirely still inside you for a agonizing second before dragging his cock back until only the tip remained, only to shove it back with a heavy slide that stretched your walls to their absolute limit.

"I'm going to breed you," his lips pressing fierce, bruising kisses down your jaw, tasting the salt of your sweat. "Every time you think about tonight, every time you pull on one of these skirts and walk past a room full of guys, you're going to remember that you belong to me. You're going to feel my cum leaking down your thighs, reminding everyone who looks at you exactly who owns this tight hole."

James was panting hard, his breath coming in gasps that ghosted over your ear as he hammered into you with an obsessive rhythm. Every single nerve ending in your lower body was screaming, stretched to its absolute limit, buzzing with tension that refused to snap, keeping you hovering right on the jagged edge of a violent breakdown.

"James… I'm… fuck, I'm right there," you sobbed, your fingers clawing blindly at his shoulders.

Hearing you was all it took to sever the final thread holding his restraint together. A ragged, animalistic cry tore from the bottom of his lungs, his entire body going rigid as his hips locked against yours, burying himself to the absolute hilt inside you.

A hot, thick wave of his seed blasted deep inside your core, shooting straight against your cervix in pulsing gushes that you could physically feel filling you up. He threw his head back, a broken groan rattling out of his chest as his orgasm tore through him, his cock pulsing and throbbing, flooding you with every single drop of his release.

Yet, even as his vision blurred and his own climax shook him down to the bone, James didn't stop. His hands gripped your hips with vice, holding you securely anchored to his pelvis so you couldn't escape. Even as he spasmed, his hips kept moving.

He had to make sure every single ounce of his seed stayed shoved deep against your womb.

"Stay still," he panted against your skin as he drove himself into you again, forcing his cum deeper. "Don't move. Let me fill you. Let me make sure you're dripping with me."

The sensation of his still-throbbing length grinding inside you while he continuously pumped his release further inside pushed you right over the edge. Your vision went completely white. Your inner muscles violently clamped down around his dick, milking every drop out of him as your own orgasm tore through you, your back bowing while you wept his name into the damp skin of his neck.

James stayed buried deep inside you for a long moment, refusing to pull away even as his initial rush subsided into a dull throb. Slowly, with a reluctance that seemed physical, he began to slide out of you.

The movement was accompanied by a soft, wet sound, and the moment he withdrew, a thick line of his warm cum immediately spilled over your swollen lips, tracking a path down your inner thigh.

A dark and utterly satisfied smirk touched the corners of his mouth.