#james x reader

Imagines:

How They Love You || ot5

Texts:

Burning Out || Martin Edwards Park

────☘︎────

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠𝕠𝕟!!

Fuck what a blessed sight…

He looked hot, way too hot. You immediately felt that familiar heat on the lower part of your stomach. Your phone was held too tightly in your hand as you kept scrolling through those pictures and videos. Shit you just wanted him to be here with you, holding you close and have his way with you.

The more you looked up, the hornier side of you started to build up…you knew it when your hand slowly reached out for your drawer, trying to find a familiar object you used when he wasn’t around. You instantly pulled out your little vibrator, the knot in your stomach, and the feeling of your cunt throbbing was the only thing you could feel at this moment, and it was getting frustrating. All you needed was a quick release, nothing crazy.

You gently turned it on, and slid down your pants, leaving yourself only wearing your damp panties. You moved the vibrator all along the damp tissue, teasing yourself while thinking about how hot your boyfriend was on stage.

“Fuck—“ you whispered, head tucked back agaisnt the pillow as you finally slid it past your panties, passing it over your clit, rubbing it lightly.

You felt good, warm and needy, all you yearned for was for James to be here instead of that stupid piece of plastic, you could’ve died to have him inside of you, kissing every inch of your body and just like that you applied the right amount of pressure, you gasped out his name without even thinking.

“James…” you let out almost pathetically when it started to felt too good. Your legs started shaking, hips lifting up unconsciously as you fantasized about his hands all over your body.

You were caught up in this moment, that you haven’t even heard the door opening, your eyes were still shut, trying to enjoy the moment as much as you can, when you suddenly felt hands on your legs.

You slowly opened your eyes, he was here… rubbing your thighs gently. James looked at you, your phone on your left hand, the right one holding the vibrator that was still working on your wet cunt.

“Oh baby, look at you” he whispered, looking at you with those soft eyes, his hand still caressing you. You couldn’t bring yourself to be ashamed or look away, it felt so natural that even your phone dropped off from your hand, your gaze staying on his the entire time, scanning his features and the look of love he was giving you.

“Fuck, im gonn—” before you could finish your sentence, he took the vibrator away from you.

“You’re not cumming on some vibrator” he said, slowly cupping your cheek, before bringing his lips to yours, his tongue gently melting on yours.

“I missed you so much” you whined in the kiss, the tip of your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jawline.

“I can tell” he chuckled, peppering kisses all along your neck. Your eyes closed, feeling the warmth of his lips on your skin. “Lemme take care of you, okay?” He mumbled agaisnt your collarbone before getting between your legs, looking around your bed for a pillow.

“Lift your hips for me, yeah?” He asked, voice soft, hands all over your body as you lifted your hips gently, letting him slide the pillow under your basin.

You cupped his jaw softly as he kissed the inside of your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. And like that, his tongue gently lapped the outline of your cunt, taking his time to taste every single inch of you. You shivered at his actions, no matter how many time he ate you out, it would always fascinate you how your body reacts to it. James’s tongue started dragging itself on the middle of your pussy, leaving long, slow, wet licks.

Your hand quickly dropped on the back of his head, tangling in his silky hair. Your back arched as he made out with your cunt sloppily, the little whimpers he let out couldn’t satisfy you more. You already felt in heaven by the way his lips sucked on your clit feverishly, circling his tongue around it.

Suddenly he turned on the vibrator, his tongue fucked you while the vibrator stimulated your pearl.

“Fuck— James please” you pleaded, your toes curling and head fell back agaisnt the pillow as he ate you out and used the little toy at the same time.

The double stimulation was too much, you were already close when he first came in, and the visual appeal of him between your legs, mouth on you, sweat clinging to his forehead, with his focused demeanor was your last straw.

“Cmon baby, you can do it. Fuck you’re so beautiful my love.” He praised, moving his tongue faster, letting the toy move on your sensitive nerve.

“James— I can’t ! That’s too much” you gasped out, pressing his head against you tightly.

“Give me your hand, please” you asked, wanting to feel his fingers laced with yours as you climaxes.

He nodded and moved his hand from your thigh to your hand, interlocking his fingers to yours.

“Oh… James” you chanted his name, that bundle of heat on your abdomen was ready to give up, you closed your eyes a last time, focusing on all the stimulation he was giving you. Before you finally reached your highs.

You let out a desperate moan, squeezed his hand so hard he’ll probably have a cramp later.

“Just like that, you did so good baby” he whispered, still between your legs.

You were still trying to catch your breath, when he turned off the vibrator, putting it aside. He kissed your stomach softly before bringing his lips to yours, letting you taste the mess you made on his tongue into your mouth.

“I love you” you breathed out, cheeks burned by the heat, eyes still teary.

“I love you too” he said, caressing your cheek gently. You looked into his eyes and all you could see was admiration, love and so much affection. He gently pulled you agaisnt his clothed chest, letting you rest on him. His hand slowly playing with your hair. There was a comfortable silence, the only audible noise were the one of your breathing and the faint sound of the city outside.

Your hand drew patterns on his neck, feeling cherished and wanting him to feel that way too.

“So how was the concert yesterday ?” You murmured, your hands still intertwined.

“It was good, but not better than the sight I saw you in tonight” he replied.

You chuckled, looking up at him before deposing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I got you some take out food by the way” he said.

“Kebab?”

“With extra tahini?”

“Of course” he said, before letting you go, knowing you’re excited to just devour your food.

“James chao” you held both his hands together. “The last one who arrives in the kitchen is a looser.

He laughed and you both quickly rushed to the kitchen, there was actually no losers, only satisfied belly and a happy woman who luckily has the best boyfriend in the world.

Martin and you have always been polar opposites. You were heavily focused on your future and academics, while Martin was involved with school, just in a different notion.

He was working hard toward debuting as a famous producer, and you had dreams of becoming a successful psychiatric nurse.With different goals in mind, you had established like-minded friend groups that you both hung around.

Amongst your friend group, your friends labeled you as the most introverted, never sharing extreme personal information with the rest of them. Every time they wanted to know anything new, they had to pry the answers out of you.

So to say you kept your love life private was an understatement. More often than not, Irhoha and Yunah would try their best to annoy you by shipping you with random boys at the school for fun.

They would stay occupied with a boy for about a week and then drop the old one for a completely new one.But when they mentioned a certain boy, your reaction was visibly different, and they knew it. Instead of laughing with them, you froze instantly, which made them both exchange knowing looks.

“Somebody has a cruuuuuuuuush,” both the girls harmonized. And all you could do was throw your head back.

⋆˚࿔

One particular day, when the two of you happened to be at the same place and the same time, Martin and his friends were fooling around and secretly whispering.“Bro, just go up to her. You’re starting to get annoying just talking about her.” Martin gives Seonghyeon an unwanted look.

To Martin, you were way out of his league, someone that only seemed attainable through a romance movie plot. But yet and still, he was determined. Despite the ruthless teasing he endured from his members, he continued his pursuit.

Without the knowledge of his friends, he would do little things in attempts to get your attention. Mingling by your friend group or hanging around places in the school that you frequented.Though through all of this, he felt performative. Not in the “niche male matcha drinking way,” but in the actual sense that he was performing for an empty stadium.

He kept up this persona longer than he could even remember, and it started to take a noticeable toll on him. James was the first to point it out. When Martin walks into the studio visibly worn out, James begins interrogating him. “Yo, what’s up?”

James’s question goes unanswered for about a minute. Completely unaware, Martin doesn’t register that anything was said.James sits up in his seat and places his phone on the table next to their makeshift producer setup.

He looks over at the tired boy relaxing into his seat, on his phone looking through a colorful Instagram page. James doesn’t mean to invade his privacy, but he has a feeling he knows what’s wrong.

“Martin?”

After some time, he looks up, trying to read James’s expression. A small “hm” comes from him. The room falls silent as James tries to find the words. He knows from experience what Martin may be going through.He wants to help, but he also doesn’t want to intrude on his life.

Moreover, he is like the younger brother he never had. “How have you been? I feel like we haven’t talked in forever.” Martin hesitates before he speaks, deciding if he should tell James everything he’s been feeling lately.

“I’m gonna be honest, I kinda feel like I’m trying too hard.” Bringing his eyes back to James, he expects a laugh. But instead, he is met with a sincere smile. James doesn’t say anything, but his expression proves he understands exactly what Martin is struggling with.

“I believe that you are trying too hard. It’s not too far off from you. But you are a really funny, ambitious, talented guy, Martin. And the best way to impress someone is by being yourself.” Martin is listening like a son admiring his father. He sighs before readjusting in his seat.

“She feels so distant from where I am. Everything I do, I can’t ever see myself as someone she would have interest in.” Martin drops his head down, feeling defeated.James rises from his seat and walks over to the blonde-haired boy holding his head in his hands.

Nothing is said between the two, but a thousand words are exchanged. Engulfing Martin in a hug, he pats his head like a dad.

⋆˚࿔

Turning the shower on, sweaty and exhausted from the day you had after work and school, you were more than ready to cozy up into your bed.While removing your clothes, Irhoha and Yunah’s words echo in your head.

Thinking back to the boy they mentioned earlier. You knew about everyone who attended your school, and realizing he really was everywhere made you pause. Racking your brain to the last time you might’ve seen him.

Today? Your eyebrows raise at the thought. “Am I being stalked?” is all you could think. With how involved at school you were, attending every single school event regardless of the type, you recalled seeing a familiar face at least once every time.

As much as it hurt to admit, you didn’t mind it as much as you thought you would. Accepting this truth came with your friends never knowing.

⋆˚࿔

2 weeks pass since you acknowledge your kinda sorta crush on Martin, and they have been the most grueling weeks ever. More and more, Martin’s efforts have become bolder and more embarrassing, even working up almost enough courage to approach you.

Sitting with Moka and Wonhee giggling, Moka’s expression shifts suddenly. “Y/n, do you know that guy?” You are met with instant confusion until only one person comes to mind. Slowly turning around in your seat, Moka and Wonhee follow.

Immediately locking eyes with the tall blonde boy standing across the classroom, Juhoon and Keonho stand beside him, trying to get his attention, but he’s focused on you. Just behind your friends, they begin to tease and mock you. Breaking eye contact, leaving Martin hanging, you return to the conversation.

“I don’t know that guy.” Without looking either of them in the eye, you bluntly lie and open your notebook, getting ready for class. “Okay, and the sky is green. You, Y/n L/n, know everyone that goes here,” Wonhee says in protest, Moka nodding in agreement.

Rolling your eyes and finally looking up at the two nosey girls, you defend yourself. “I’ve never seen him in my life, okay? He must be new or something.”A shared groan is heard from both Moka and Wonhee.

Wonhee gives up and turns around, signaling for Moka to do the same. When their backs turn, your eyes find their way back to Martin. He is back talking to his friends, completely oblivious to the girl staring at him.

Observing his body language and appearance, you let your mind wander and daydream briefly. Promptly, your teacher walks in and begins class. Quietly sighing and preparing for the lecture, you can’t help but think about Martin and what could be.

⋆˚࿔

The bell rings, wrapping up class. Moka and Wonhee talk amongst themselves, debating something that you don’t care to listen to. You glance over at Martin and his friend group, watching them pack their belongings.

He looks over at you and smiles. Caught completely off guard, you smile back sincerely and quickly look away. He keeps his eyes on you and watches as the three of you walk out, feeling the weight of pretending to be someone else lightly lift off his shoulders.

Annoyingly, he hears James’s voice reiterating through his head. Walking out of the classroom, you can’t try and suppress the butterflies that you are experiencing. “Am I that susceptible to one attractive guy?”

Shaking your head, you force yourself to think about something more productive and worth your time. Almost involuntarily, you turn around, seeing if you were being followed by the group, or at least Martin. Moka notices your twitchy behavior.

“Y/n, are you okay? You’re jumping and it’s kinda scaring me.” She stares at you for a moment, awaiting your answer. Quickly flashing a bright smile toward Moka, you respond.

“I’m good, just kinda tired, you know?” Wonhee giggles and brushes the interaction off. Moka keeps her eyes on you, still unsure what’s up with you.At lunch, you make sure to sit in proximity to Martin’s friend group, eating and watching his group closely.

Making sure to nod every now and then, listening to Irhoha and Wonhee’s dramatic story. Briefly looking up in your direction, Martin stops talking to James and is taken aback to see you already looking at him.

So much so, James looks at you as well. You swiftly look at the apple in your hands. Shutting your eyes tightly, accepting the truth.

I have a crush on Martin Edwards?

⋆˚࿔

Last block comes sooner than later: study hall. Scrolling on your phone in the back of the class, your quiet time is interrupted. You are stunned to see Martin towering over your figure.

He smiles in your face, holding his hand by his head in an attempt to wave. “Hey y/n, you busy?” Trying to find the words to respond, your answer comes out in a stutter.

“No, I’m not. What’s up?” He points to the chair empty next to you, and you nod. His whole body shifts in your direction, and he sighs before speaking. Scratching the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact, he finally talks.

“I didn’t think I would get this far.” Giving him a questionable look, confused entirely, you tilt your head. “Hm? What are you talking about? Did you plan coming up to me?”

Hiding a smile and moving your hands to your face in an attempt to hide your pink-colored cheeks, you watch as his eyes eventually meet yours. “Unfortunately, I thought this out for like twenty minutes.”

He groans, throwing his head into his hands. A comfortable silence falls between both of you. “Your friends probably think I’m weird, huh?”

Immediately looking up at him, you burst out laughing once again.“No, definitely. They noticed you everywhere before I did.” He sighs awkwardly, looking around the room. “Fairs bro.”

Over the course of thirty minutes, you and Martin jumped from about twenty different topics. In this short period of time, Martin learned about your strict schedule that you followed, along with the massive workload that you had to keep up with.

“We are so different. I mean, I just do what I gotta do and spend most of my time with my friends making beats.” Learning something new, you lean closer toward him.

“You make beats? Like you wanna be a producer?” Martin, visibly embarrassed, nods. “Yeah, I wanna be a big producer and make music for artists. You wanna hear something I made?”

You hesitate for a moment before agreeing. He pulls out his long tangled wired headphones from his pocket, spending a few seconds untangling them just enough so they reach between the two of you.

He plugs his headphones into his phone and offers you an earbud. Sticking it into your ear, you hear a catchy R&B beat. In your peripheral vision, you can see Martin subtly bopping his head along to the music, anticipating the next beat drop and tone.

Surprisingly, the homemade rhythm isn’t half bad, finding yourself enjoying it. Your body language shows it, and Martin picks up on it. Taking the earbud out of his ear, he glances up at you.

“So what did you think?” Martin is clearly filled with nerves, cracking his knuckles and twiddling his thumbs. Expecting a disingenuous response, he prepares himself. “This has real potential, Martin. Wow.”

Upon hearing this, his eyes light up. Containing his smile, he replies nonchalantly. “Thanks. Means a lot.” Martin opens his mouth to say something, but he is overshadowed by the loud, piercing sound of the school bell signaling the end of the day.

He sighs briefly before opening his Instagram, trying to get your attention before you leave. “Could I get your Instagram? I think you’re really cool and I wanna keep in touch... I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

Smiling, you grab his phone and type in your Instagram, packing your bag and getting ready to leave. He grabs his headphones and heads in the direction of the door, turning around to wave goodbye before walking out.

The familiar feeling of your stomach jittering and fluttering returns, quickly placing your hands over your stomach, trying to suppress the feeling.

⋆˚࿔

Flopping on his bed with a wide smile, he grabs his phone out of his pocket and types your username into the Instagram search bar. He looks through photos he’s seen a million times, finally being able to stalk comfortably.

Scrolling back up, his thumb hovers over your DMs. Internally debating on reaching out. Drafting numerous messages and deleting all of them instantly, he settles on:

“Hey, thanks for listening to my music today :)” Shutting his phone off and putting it face down on his bed, he sends himself into a mild panic. Pacing his room, he is terrified when he hears a ring from his phone.

“Of course :) I actually really liked it.” Reading over the message more times than necessary, a relieved smile spreads across his face. Leaning back against the wall, he lets out a laugh he didn’t even realize he had been holding in.

Before he can think too much, another notification appears across his screen. “I wasn’t just saying that either.”His fingers immediately find the keyboard before stopping halfway through typing.

Not wanting to ruin the moment by saying too much, he settles on thanking you once again, deciding it was probably better to save the rest for another day. Setting his phone down this time without panicking, he couldn’t help but replay the day over and over in his head.

⋆˚࿔

Over the next couple of weeks, talking to Martin slowly became a part of your daily routine. Between school, work, and studying, you somehow always found a few minutes to answer his messages, no matter how exhausted you were. The conversations were never forced, jumping from random jokes to him sending unfinished beats and asking for your opinion.

Study hall slowly became your favorite class without you even realizing it. Every afternoon, one of you would save the seat beside the other, almost like an unspoken agreement neither of you ever acknowledged. Moka and Wonhee noticed almost immediately, exchanging amused looks every time Martin walked over with that same shy smile.

“So, you guys are like friends now?” Wonhee asks, trying her best to sound casual. Looking up from your notebook, you shrug your shoulders, pretending the question didn’t affect you nearly as much as it did. “I guess? He’s actually really cool.”

Moka lets out a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over her heart.“Actually really cool? Is the world ending? You’re telling us about your love life?” Rolling your eyes, you throw a pencil toward the two girls, failing miserably as it lands nowhere near them.

Meanwhile, across campus, Martin wasn’t having it much easier. James notices the permanent smile on his face almost instantly, nudging him with his shoulder while the rest of the members laugh amongst themselves.

“Did pretending finally stop?” James asks with a knowing smile. Martin thinks for a moment before quietly laughing to himself. “I don’t really feel like I have to anymore.” James smiles proudly, patting him on the shoulder before walking ahead with the others.

⋆˚࿔

The weeks flew by way faster than either of you expected. What started as just a random conversation after class had slowly turned into something neither of you wanted to admit actually mattered.

Martin started picking up on little things he never thought he’d notice. The way you tapped your pencil against your notebook when you were stuck on a problem, how you completely lit up when you talked about something you actually liked, and the way you always tried to act like you weren’t exhausted when it was completely obvious you were.

And you were doing the same thing with him. You noticed how he always scanned the room for you before picking a seat, the way he genuinely smiled whenever you laughed at his jokes, and how he’d always go out of his way to check in on you, even when he was stressed with his own stuff.

⋆˚࿔

One afternoon, the two of you were sitting out by the empty courtyard. Your homework was completely forgotten, and the conversation had drifted from complaining about classes to just everything and nothing all at once.

For a second, neither of you said anything. The noise of the courtyard continued around you, students passing by and conversations blending together, but somehow it felt like the two of you were completely separated from it.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It was something you both had grown used to. Something safe. A small smile appears on your face as you look down at your hands. “You know what’s funny?”

Martin looks over at you, waiting for you to continue. “When my friends first started teasing me about you, I thought they were being ridiculous.” The second the words leave your mouth, his eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Huh? They teased you about me?” A laugh slips out before you can stop it, immediately realizing what you had just admitted. “Well, yeah, but no?” You quickly try to recover, but Martin is already smiling to himself, clearly entertained.

“No, continue. I’m listening.” His teasing tone makes you roll your eyes. “They would always randomly pick someone at school and say I had a crush on them. It was never serious.” You pause for a moment, debating whether or not to continue.

“But with you, it was different.” The smile on Martin’s face slowly fades into something softer. “Different how?” You take a second before answering, knowing there was no point in pretending anymore.

“I don’t know when it happened,” you admit, looking away. “At first, I thought you were just another person they were joking about. But then I started noticing you everywhere.”

Martin stays quiet, listening. “I would see you at school events, in the hallways, in classes. And I realized you weren’t just some random person my friends were trying to annoy me with.”

A small smile forms on your face. “You were just you I guess.” For once, Martin doesn’t have some joke ready. The same person who could spend hours creating music and confidently sharing his ideas with his friends suddenly found himself struggling to find the right words.

He looks down at his hands, a quiet laugh escaping him.“You have no idea how long I wanted to hear something like that.”Your eyebrows raise slightly.“ What do you mean?” He hesitates, his fingers picking at the fabric of his sleeve.“

Because for the longest time, I genuinely thought you didn’t even know I existed.” A small laugh leaves your lips. “Martin, I knew who you were.” “Yeah, but I didn’t know that.” The honesty behind his words makes your expression soften.

“I think I spent so much time trying to make you notice me that I forgot I didn’t have to pretend,” he admits quietly. “I was trying to be someone I thought you would like.

Someone who was interesting enough, talented enough, someone who actually made sense for you.” His eyes meet yours again. “But then you listened to my music, and you actually cared.

You weren’t impressed because I was trying to impress you.”A small smile appears on his face.“You liked it because it was mine.”Your heart sinks slightly at how genuine he sounds.“Martin...”

“I like you, y/n.”

The words are simple, but they carry months of feelings that neither of you had been brave enough to acknowledge. There was no dramatic confession, no perfect movie scene, just Martin finally saying the thing he had been holding onto for longer than he wanted to admit.

You stare at him for a moment, completely caught off guard. Because somehow, after all the teasing, all the pretending, and all the moments where you convinced yourself it was nothing, hearing him say it out loud made everything feel real.

“I like you too.”

The second the words leave your mouth, Martin freezes. For a moment, he just looks at you, almost like he’s waiting for someone to tell him he imagined it. Then a quiet laugh escapes him as he looks down, shaking his head with a smile.

“Seriously?” A small smile pulls at your lips. “Seriously.” And the look on his face is something you don’t think you’ll ever forget. The relief, the happiness. The fact that he finally didn’t have to wonder anymore.

Neither of you says anything for a while after that. You don’t rush to define what this means or force the moment into something it doesn’t need to be. After weeks of wondering, pretending, and overthinking every interaction, the two of you finally knew.

And somehow, that was enough. Sitting beside him, watching the smile he was trying so hard to hide, you realized that maybe this was what you had both been searching for all along.

taglist: @ges1ca, @angelgivethemhell

^lmk if you would like to join :0

my first super long fic! i hate this so much but i hope u liked it more than I did!! thank u for reading <3

The coffee had gone lukewarm in your hands, but you did not really mind. James had finished his hours ago and left the mug on the floor near the TV, forgotten against the baseboard. You were both sunk deep into his couch, that oversized grey sectional that swallowed people whole, legs tangled under a blanket that smelled like his detergent and the faint trace of the vanilla candle he had lit earlier and promptly ignored.

You had been there since ten, still in your stuff from the gym, your small braids pulled back from your face with a soft band, a few loose ones framing your temples where they had dried weird from your washday. James looked even more undone. Sweatpants riding low on his hips, an old faded tee from some predebut photoshoot, hair still messy from sleep. He looked normal. Not like the guy you had watched on that music show last week, all sharp angles and stage makeup. Just James.

He had the remote but was not really using it. Some autoplay garbage ran on the TV, travel vlogs bleeding into clips of people falling off skateboards, whatever the algorithm decided to serve. Every so often he would laugh, this low huff that vibrated through the couch cushions, and his foot would nudge yours under the blanket like he was checking you were still there.

"You are not even watching," he said, nodding at your phone. You were scrolling through nothing, some food blog you would never cook from.

"I am. That guy just broke his tailbone."

"That was three videos ago."

"Multitasking girlfriend right?."

He smiled, the kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes, and stretched. His shirt rode up enough to show his stomach. He did not fix it. He never did. His hand landed on your knee when he settled back down, casual as breathing, thumb rubbing back and forth over the fabric of your leggings. Warm. Distracting.

The afternoon light came through the blinds in stripes, cutting across his shoulders. He looked soft in it, touchable. You felt yourself leaning in before you even decided to, drawn by the smell of his soap and the way he was looking at you, all soft focus and intent.

He noticed. He always noticed. His hand slid up your thigh, not grabby, just present, grounding. "Come here," he said, voice gone quiet and rough.

That was when your brain caught up. You glanced at the door, solid and locked but still, and felt your shoulders tense. "Wait."

He stopped immediately, hand stilling on your leg. "What?"

"What about the others??"

James blinked, confused for a second, then his face cleared into something gentler. "They’re at the studio. They are all at the studio. Training until six. I told you."

"I know, but..." You sat up a little, the blanket slipping to your waist. "What if one of ‘em forgets something? You know they always do. Keonho came back last Tuesday..."

"At four," James interrupted, soft but firm. He sat up too, turning to face you properly, his hand moving to your waist instead. "It was Tuesday at four, yeah, but that was a vocal lesson day. Today is choreography. They do not break from dancing. The choreographer would beat their asses if one of them even thought of leaving."

You bit your lip, still looking at the door. "And the manager?"

"He always calls first." James reached out, his fingers finding your chin, turning you back to look at him. "You know that. He calls. He waits. He complains. He is not gonna just kick the door down." He waited, thumb brushing your jaw. "We are good. I promise."

He was looking at you with that expression, the one that made you feel silly for worrying but also safe for admitting it. His thumb traced your cheekbone, back and forth, patient.

"You sure about that?" you asked, quieter.

"Positive." He leaned in, close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, the small scar above his eyebrow from some predebut accident he never fully explained. "It is just us. For like three more hours. Just us."

Something in your chest unclenched. You nodded, small and sure.

He smiled again, real and relieved, and closed the distance. His mouth found yours soft, unhurried, the kind of kiss that started like a question and got answered yes. His hand at your waist pulled you closer, easy, and you went, shifting up onto your knees so you could lean into him better. The blanket got messed up, kicked aside somewhere to the floor, but neither of you cared.

He tasted like the mint gum he had been chewing earlier, sweet and sharp. One of his hands came up to cup the back of your neck, fingers threading through your braids at the nape, not pulling, just holding, learning the shape of them. The other stayed at your hip, thumb tracing circles that you felt through your whole body.

When you pulled back to breathe, he did not let you go far. His forehead rested against yours, eyes half open. "Better?" he whispered.

"Yeah."

"Good." He kissed your nose, then your cheek, then your mouth again, deeper this time, less careful. You felt him smile against your lips when you sighed, embarrassed at the sound, but he just pulled you closer, his hands guiding you until you were fully in his lap, your knees settling on either side of his thighs.

He leaned back into the corner of the couch, taking you with him, his hands moving to your waist to settle you against him. The position brought you chest to chest, close enough that you could feel his heartbeat through his thin shirt. He looked up at you for a moment, really looked, his eyes tracing your face like he was memorizing it. Then he tilted his chin up and brought you down to meet him.

This kiss was different. Hungrier. His mouth moved against yours with purpose, firm and demanding, his tongue sliding past your lips to taste you deeper. His hand slid up your back under your hoodie, palm hot and flat against your skin, while the other cradled your jaw, angling you where he wanted you. 

He kissed you like he was starving, tilting his head to get closer, pulling back only to breathe before diving back in, his teeth catching your lower lip and tugging gently before soothing the spot with his tongue.

You gasped against his mouth, your hands finding the front of his shirt and fisting in the fabric, pulling him closer. He made a low sound in his throat, something between a groan and approval, and his hand at your waist tightened, fingers pressing into your hip. Your braids fell forward around your faces, creating a curtain, and he pushed them back with one hand, his fingers getting tangled in them, gripping slightly as he deepened the kiss.

"James," you breathed when he moved to your jaw, his mouth hot and open against your skin.

"Right here," he murmured against your throat, his voice rough, vibrating against your pulse. He kissed the spot hard enough to bruise, then soothed it with his tongue, his other hand sliding down to grip your thigh, pulling you flush against him. You felt him everywhere, the heat of him through his clothes, the solid muscle of his chest, the way his hips shifted under yours, seeking friction.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide, his mouth swollen and wet. "You good?" he asked, but his hand was already moving again, sliding up your side, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast through your hoodie.

"Yeah," you managed, your voice sounding strange to your own ears. "You?"

Instead of answering, he kissed you again, harder this time, his hand at your back pulling you down so you were pressed fully against him, chest to chest, hip to hip. His tongue swept through your mouth, tasting, claiming, and you met him with equal hunger, your fingers threading into his hair and pulling slightly. He groaned against your mouth, the sound sending heat pooling low in your stomach, and his hips bucked up slightly, seeking pressure.

"Fuck," he breathed against your lips, his hand at your thigh gripping tighter, his fingers digging in just enough to mark. "You feel so..."

He did not finish the sentence. He kissed you again, deeper, his hand sliding up to tangle fully in your braids, gentle with the tension but firm, holding you where he wanted you. His other hand roamed, tracing your spine, your side, the curve of your hip, then sliding back up under your hoodie to touch skin.

You shivered at the contact, his palm warm and slightly calloused against your ribs, and he swallowed the sound you made, his tongue stroking against yours in a rhythm that matched the slow rock of your hips.

The couch creaked beneath you, loud in the quiet apartment, but neither of you stopped. You were too far gone, lost in the heat of his mouth, the way his hands moved over you like he could not get enough, the way his body rose to meet yours with every downward press of your hips. His breathing was ragged against your mouth, his chest heaving against yours, and you could feel his heart hammering, fast and hard.

He broke the kiss to drag his mouth down your jaw, your throat, sucking at the skin there hard enough to make you gasp, his hand at your waist holding you steady while the other gripped your hip, guiding your movements. "Tell me," he demanded softly, his voice rough against your skin.

"Yeah?"

"If you want to stop." He looked up at you, his eyes dark, serious despite the flush on his cheeks, the way his hair stuck up where you had pulled it. "Tell me. I will stop."

You shook your head, your braids brushing your shoulders, and rolled your hips down against him deliberately. He hissed out a breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a second, his grip tightening. "Do not stop," you whispered.

He opened his eyes, looked at you for a long moment, then surged up to kiss you again, his mouth claiming yours with an intensity that made your head spin. His hands moved to frame your face, holding you still for his kiss, his tongue stroking deep, his thumbs brushing your cheekbones.

You felt every point of contact, the warmth of his skin under his shirt, the solidness of his thighs under yours, the hard line of him pressing against you through his sweatpants, the way his fingers trembled slightly against your jaw.

He kissed you like he was trying to consume you, like the afternoon was not enough, like he needed more. And you gave it, your hands fisting in his shirt, your body moving against his, lost in the heat and the weight of him, the taste of mint and coffee and James.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard, chests heaving, his forehead pressed against yours, his hands still framing your face. "You okay?" he asked, voice rough, wrecked.

You nodded, your lips feeling swollen, your body thrumming. "Yeah, how about you?."

He made a soft noise, something like satisfaction, and pulled you down against him, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close, his face buried in your neck. You felt his heartbeat against your chest, fast and steady, his breathing hot against your skin.

The afternoon sun moved across the floor, striping the coffee table. Neither of you moved to fix the blanket. James's hand traced slow patterns at your lower back, though his fingers still trembled slightly, his body tense beneath you like he was holding himself back.

"Was it good?" he asked again, muffled against your collarbone.

You nodded, your chin brushing his hair, and carded your fingers through the mess you had made of it. "Do I have to answer?"