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jellyluvr · 11 months

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Two firsts

- Jpm x virgin fem reader 𖦹•°.

Uh so the title is really bad, but I promise the fic is good. I hope. :') special color 4 James too

Tw: facial, James bein a little forceful, reader loses virginity, some blood, and a creampie. 🤧

S: you went down to the bar in the hotel to have a drink but James had other plans for you.

You had been staying at this cute little hotel you found. Atleast that's what you thought. It was nice. You loved it, even if you had only been staying there for a few hours. I mean, it was a wonderful place. All big, nice rooms. You even got some sort of special treatment.

But, tonight you were going down to the bar. You looked in the mirror, fluffing your hair and posing to make sure you looked nice. Of course you did. You looked perfect. Your black dress hugged your skin, your chest framed perfectly in it. Your little heels were even better, black with twinkly accents.

You looked down at your heels, observing them on you and in the mirror. You hummed to yourself. You looked good.. but was there something better you could wear? You sighed, moving your head up to stare at yourself in the mirror. No.. this was good. This was great, really. Anyone would like it down there. If they didn't, they could kiss your ass. It'd probably be some junkie with no sense of self care. This.. this was good.

With that, you walked over to your purse and pulled out a lip tint, a nice rosey color. You dipped it in, letting some fall to make sure you didn't apply too much. Then, you walked back to the mirror, getting close and squinting your eyes. You focused on your lips, the small brush grazing over the inner part. You rubbed them together, wiping some in the right direction with your thumb.

Damn you looked hot.

You'd probably smash yourself if you ever got the chance. Not that you hadn't already.. but you weren't exactly an angel. Yea, you were a virgin. But you were a bad virgin. You always dirty danced with men at different clubs, never getting their number or going out to their car. You were simply just a virgin that wanted to save her sweetness for the right person. Of course you acted innocent and nice. That was the only way you could get guys to melt in your hands.

When you found out their real personalities, their eagerness.. you left. You just left, not looking back. You weren't obligated to have sex. You could be a virgin forever if you wanted.. but you only wanted the right man. The right man to fulfill your needs. Your wants.

You put the lip tint back in your small purse, then took it in your hand before walking over to the door. You practiced your walk as you did, also in the halls after you shut your door and made sure to lock it. You liked how old fashioned the hotel was. Still using keys and having to pick up ice.

You admired the work they put into the hotel, the nice carpet and archways. You loved the hotel. Cortez was catchy too. That was the main reason you came, and because there was a bar.

You had never drank before. Not even the smallest amount. That was why the bar was so special to you. Yeah, you were pretty young to drink but no one was stopping you?

You continued to walk down the halls, fixing your heels every moment. You hated these heels. You also hated the way the yellow lights illuminated your face. I mean, you probably looked horrible now. But, you strutted down the hallway, clearly walking with a purpose.

You turned the corner, the elevator greeting you. You walked in, your heels clicking on the glass. Then, of course, you pressed the number one on the golden buttons and waited for the doors to close. Thankfully the elevator was so well kept there was a nice shiny surface to check if you looked good on.

You got closer to the reflection and made sure everything looked good. No smudges.. so that was great.

The ding of the elevator brought you back to life, also the little bit of shaking. As the doors opened, you watched a few people come in. You were glad they didn't look as good as you.

You walked out, shaking your head slightly to get some hair out of your face. And finally.. you saw the bar. But, there was a man, talking with the bartender.

She looked nice, a cute dress honestly. But, you still hopped up on one of the red leather stools and settled there. You let your weight sink into the sticky seat before turning in it. You loved spinny stools. They were your favorite.

"Ooo, what's your name?" The bartender asked, cooing at you for whatever reason. You laughed lightly, a little embarrassed from the call out.

"Y/n." You responded quickly after your giggles, but the man turned to you watching as you got settled.

"Pretty name for a pretty lady.." Liz said, chuckling to herself, "mmm, but anyway, what'd you like, hun?" She asked smiling at you as her nails clicked against the glass top of the bar.

You looked at all the choices and you didn't really know what to choose.. it was all really overwhelming.. maybe just a beer? But what beer?? Shit...

"Are you even old enough to drink?" The man asked, staring at you. You just looked over, your body becoming stiff. "Uh, yeah? Duhhhh???"

It was so obvious you were lying. The man chuckled to himself, then looking over to Liz.

"Get her a shot, a shooter. Surprise me." He smiled at her, his dimples peeking through while Liz let out a soft hm, then turning around and doing whatever to make a shooter.

The man then turned to you. "You think you can handle that?" He asked, clearly mocking you in some way. You just stared for a second, nodding. You were still stuck on what a shooter was but you didn't really care. You didn't mind embarrassing yourself in front of anyone.. not even him.

"How old are you, dear?" He asked in a more sweet tone than earlier. Then took a sip of his whiskey, reveling in the taste with a click of his tongue.

"I'm y/a." You said proudly despite the number being pretty low. Especially low.. and you were drinking?? How rebellious of you.

"Really?" He said, seeming to be a little shocked. He looked over at you, taking a glance at your boobs before pulling himself back together.

"Well, would you like to go to my office after this? I am paying for you after all.." his finger tip grazed over the rim of his glass while he awaited your answer. He knew it wouldn't be no.

"Sure." You said, not seeming to be too afraid. He looked nice.. hot outfit honestly. He really pulled off the suspenders. And his hair? It was slicked back perfectly, his brown eyes almost matching the jet black. You really almost got lost within him.

But then, Liz passed you your shot and you immediately looked down at it. A slight tint of pink was in it, but mostly clearish. You smelt it, clearly a bit suspicious of it.

"It's just a shot, it won't kill you." He said, watching you closely. So you took the glass and thought about it. It was a shooter.. so like the movies? Just shoot it down?

You shot it down, but you immediately winced at the taste. It burned your throat.. your nostrils almost burned. James laughed at how you acted. It was obvious you hadn't ever drank before. Let alone a shot being your first.

"Mm. Did it taste nice?" He looked at you, a grin on his face. All you could get out was a mhm before getting up off the stool, your thighs sticking to it.

"Okay.. let's go please?" You asked, looking down at the ground while you tried to get that taste out of your mouth.

James laughed again, drinking the rest of his whiskey and paying Liz. She knew exactly what was going to happen but she didn't say anything. She just stayed quiet, picking up the glasses and putting them somewhere.

"Alright then.." he got off his stool with a little huff before beginning to walk, not seeming to care if you were following or not. You immediately caught up, stumbling a bit from your heels.

"Follow me, dear." He said, walking over to the halls connected to the upstairs. You followed like he said, eventually catching up to be beside him. Then, you walked for awhile before coming up to a room. 64.

He pulled a key out of his pocket, it clinking and clacking before he opened the door, guiding you in.

It looked nice. 2 chairs infront of you, a closet, another closet on the left?, the bed to the right, and facing the bed the bathroom on the left. You sat down on the bed, looking around. You enjoyed the retro looks of the hotel. You loved it.

James' room looked different than all the others.. more fancy. Or retro. You still liked it though. You let the room sink in while you listened to James lock the door, then walk over to you.

"So, what would you like to do first, my dear?" He asked, his voice smooth but rocky at the same time. But, you really didn't know. Not unless he wanted to fuck? But you we're too young for him.. I mean, that was what you inferred from him being so shocked about your age earlier.

In reality, James was just thrilled. He always preferred younger and prettier girls.. they were most easy to kill and touch.. everything was for his pleasure, really.

"Charades..?" You said sheepishly. James immediately began to laugh, his body coming closer, putting you face to face with his junk.

You couldn't really tell if he was hard or not, it was rude to stare. James clearly didn't care about that rule though. His eyes went to your chest once more, then back up to your eyes.

"I think I have an idea.." he hummed, his hand pushing you back on the bed. Once he did, his hands grazed over your chest while you just laid there in shock. You didn't even get to comprehend what was going on.

James' veiny hands slipped under your slutty dress, immediately toying with your panties. James smirked, looking up at your surprised face.

"This okay?" Before you could even nod, his fingers had slipped in your panties. They went in between your folds, touching your slight wetness.

"Already wet for me?" He chuckled lightly, taking his fingers out before his hands pulled you closer to him, your thighs pushed up against his. He dropped your legs, his hands now focusing on getting his pants off. He kicked them off his feet, unbuttoning his shirt as soon as he did.

James was now presentable. Only his underwear were on and you saw how his erection was building.

"Take that dress off, please?" He smiled, already pulling up your dress so you had the help. You pulled it off, feeling your heat rise as well. Once it was right on your chest, you pulled it off your head your tits bouncing from the friction.

"Mm.." he hummed, snapping your panties against your skin before pulling them up, revealing your heat. He looked down at your pussy, then back up at your face. 'When he reaches down to feel how wet you are' meme was starting to make a lot of sense.

Before you could say anything, James' underwear were off and he pushed into you, making you gasp for air. He looked at your face, laughing lightly before thrusting a little harder. He heard your moans, but he didn't seem to care. You'd have to get accustomed to his cock soon, and you being a virigin didn't help.

"God, you're tight.." he groaned, his hands holding onto your thighs as he thrusted into you at a good pace, making your chest bounce up and down.

He began to thrust harder, making you squirm a bit, maybe even yelp. You whimpered at the painful feeling, trying to find the pleasure. James continued to assault your pussy, making you cum all around him. It didn't take long, not at all. James was still going though.

"Mmm! Fuck!!" You shouted, James smiling at his work. He looked at your stomach, it moving just barely from his size. His right hand went on your stomach, pushing down to give himself more pleasure.

James groaned, feeling his orgasm near. You just let him fuck you relentlessly.. you started to like the pain.. the pleasure. It mixed well. Especially with his size.

James continued to thrust, all the blood in his body going to the tip of his cock while he continued to pound into you. His forehead began to sweat, his hair getting all messy from his movements. But then, you felt a gush of heat inside you and a moan from James his last thrust sloppy. You moaned feeling him pull out... your pussy coated with your arousal and dripping with his white cum.

He panted looking down at your cunt, then sticking a finger in your once tight pussy to stuff you with his cum even more. He pulled his finger out, a little bit of red on it. Your eyes widened, his too.

"Mm.. what a tragedy. You lost your virginity to a man you don't even know." He laughed lightly, crawling up on the bed beside you while you just laid there in utter shock.

"Can I taste you..?" You asked, looking over to him. He looked at you, another devilish smile creeping on his face.

"Sure.. go on." He encouraged, leaning up as he watched you move in between his legs. You looked at his cock, it being soft.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft, slowly moving up and down. James let out a little moan, his cock growing hard again despite the over sensitivity.

You looked at his tip, your lips ghosting it while you looked up at his face, a smile on it. Your tongue peeks out and you began to kitten lick his slit, wincing at the taste. You quickly got used to the salty flavor, letting your lips enclose over his tip, your tongue twirling around to pleasure him.

He moaned a little more, his hand moving up into your hair as he guided you. He bobbed your head up and down, more noises coming from him. You gagged a little, but he continued.

"Fuck..." he groaned, his voice raspy now. His tip hit the back of your throat, then his tip went to your lips and repeat. Finally, he let go.

"Open your mouth.." he said in breathy tone. So, you did, your tongue out. You watched as his hand went to pump himself, him letting out squeaks along the way.

He continued, feeling his next orgasm creep closer and closer before he came. He had originally aimed for your mouth, but he didn't really care. I mean, his eyes were closed. Once his thick cum left ribbons of white on your face, he opened his eyes, laughing a little.

"You look so pretty like that, sweetheart." He sighed, still smiling to himself. You wiped the cum off your face, letting it into your mouth while you savored the taste.

—20 minutes later—

James had fallen asleep and you had taken it as your chance to get dressed once more. You went to the bathroom, looking into the mirror while you tried to fix yourself up, also trying to get his finish off.

But, once you looked at your lips you saw the lip tint was still there.

It was good you used it for this occasion.. it couldn't help but make you smile.

‐☆ 𝕭𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖘 ☆‐

I don't have a divider currently so you have to make do** with that. (I used the wrong due omg)

Sorry if this is bad, I did try. Plus it's long asf. Anyways, ty 4 readin

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silverzoomies · 1 year

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Antithesis

james patrick march x reader smut

warnings: smut, slow burn-ish, oral sex, one-sided pining, devotion, body worship, hand jobs, slight choking, pet names, oneshot

word count: 7640

a/n: my apologies if james seems at all ooc here. i try my goddamn hardest to keep characters as close to their source material as possible. but, when it comes to self indulgent smut, sometimes you gotta pull a few strings!!! oh, and i'd also like to apologize for the long length of this fic. and for how abruptly it ends hdsghkjdshkgsg it's a mess, sorry !!

bonus note ig: in 1920's slang, a "goof" is an idiot. james basically thinks of you as naive and dumb here. sorry!

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March doesn’t dislike you. “Dislike” is much too strong a word.

No, he tolerates you. Dare he think it, he might even be somewhat…fond of you. The two of you were born nearly a hundred years apart. And so, as expected, you were the absolute antithesis of one another. March built himself from the ground up. He started with little to nothing. Carrying with him a background he so dreaded to recall. Childhood memories best left buried deep. Never to see the shining light of day again. March walked with a prestigious elegance. Something all but lost to the world in modern times, he thought. He was high-class. New money incarnate. Fancy, social affairs and aesthetic, art-deco decor were his most treasured hobbies. Amongst his other, more…contentious interests. And you. What were you?

Some little goof. You poor thing. Your story was quite the tragedy, really. Born almost one hundred years later to middle class stock. An entirely different world from the one in which March knew. Your arrival to the hotel Cortez was…unfortunate. You were the embodiment of innocence. Overly polite to a fault. Kind to the staff and the hotel’s mysterious residents. Never going out of your way to disturb a single soul. And you always made sure to apologize for the times you did.

And like all lives brought to the Cortez, yours ended there. A shame. A pity. Truly. What a waste. After you died, you drifted aimlessly for a while. Exploring every inch of the hotel you could. Bearing witness to the unspeakable horror that burned like scorching fire from inside. The hotel Cortez was nothing short of the infernal regions made earthly.

Even so, you weren’t the least bit fazed by this fact. Death changed you. It changed your moral perspective.

But you were missing something. A purpose. Every soul, lost adrift, needed purpose.

Liz knew all.

She knew everything about everyone. Including you. You’d sit at the bar, talking to her for hours on end. About your life. Liz’s life. The lives of the Cortez’s other, ghostly residents. She’d tell you of the hotel and its history. And you learned all there was to know. But in sharing your deepest thoughts, desires, and fears, you’d been a little too open. And Liz learned enough that, had a curious party asked about you? She could easily act as an informant.

You were a poor sap. Harboring a deep rooted, psychological need to please.

In death, you told Liz, you wanted nothing more than, simply…a person. Someone to dedicate yourself to entirely. Someone to love, to adore, to spend all of eternity caring for. Such an innocent desire, from such an unsullied soul.

You heard of him only in passing. James Patrick March.

You knew of his murderous atrocities. And you’d heard whispers of his bloodied history in hushed tones. Liz told you of everything March built, and what he’d become in the process.

March assumed you thought nothing of it. Nothing of him. Because at the Cortez, he was often that. Nothing more than a rumor. Only making himself present whenever necessary. Any other day? He remained a chilling, ghost story. And that’s all he’d been to you.

Until the two of you crossed paths, that is.

March was polite and courteous, as he always is. And the soulless, empty void of his dark eyes met yours. Pure, beautiful, and innocent. The two of you couldn’t have been more different from one another. You, his polar opposite. If he were the infernal reaches of hell itself, you were the luminous kingdom of heaven.

Whatever you felt for him, it must have been instantaneous.

Because suddenly, your sorrow dissipated. A lifetime of suffering and anguish faded away into thin air. And finally, you were free. Joyous. You, the little goof. Your demeanor somehow became all the more polite and inviting. Ironic, really. Considering…the source of your happiness was the very personification of evil itself.

You’d skip around the hotel with a spring in your step. Greeting everyone who passed you in the halls with a chipper, sunny disposition. Parading around in those loose-fitting clothes. Your skin decorated in ink reminiscent of your rather quirky interests. Appalling, if you were to ask him.

You were vexatious. And yet…

March found he appreciated your company.

You really were too sweet. Sickeningly so. Like cavity-inducing candy. Truly good at heart. There wasn’t a hateful, nefarious bone in your body. But you were deeply loyal to a fault. It was a weakness that kept you chained. It held you down. Never allowing you to reach your true potential. March could see it. He saw right through you, straight into your delicate soul. He saw your aura. Unsullied purity.

March learned all he could about you from Liz.

And once he had, he felt the need to test your unbroken clarity.

He showed you everything. Every secret. Every piece of gory history which revealed his past, his life’s purpose, his true intentions. The never-ending, torturous suffering he brought upon the innocent lives of the world. He confessed to you his killings. Even going into the dark, gritty details. March stared you down with an empty, far off look in his shady eyes. An uncanny gaze. And he expressed to you all his crazed, degenerate passions.

He expected you to react accordingly. Like any soul so pure and unblemished as yours should.

But death…

Death truly did change you. The hotel Cortez? It corrupted your moral code.

Perhaps he was mistaken. Maybe you weren’t as innocent as you often seemed.

You treated his passions like any other hobby. And you engaged in conversation about them casually. Beaming the brightest, most curious, smile. Your eyes glimmered with genuine interest and fascination. And March found he was more than happy to share that part of himself with you. Delighted to discuss his exploits with a newfound friend. A trusted friend.

He did long for someone to talk to…

And it was then, he realized. He knew. He was woefully fucked.

Because you. Naive, little goof that you were…

You’d found your purpose.

The one person whom you’d give your undying devotion, for forever and into eternity.

No one, not a single soul in the hotel had expected it. When you sat at the bar, sipping on your sweet sodas instead of anything alcoholic (ever the carefree babe, you were). You spoke of having ‘found’ your purpose. And there were smiles all around. “ Ooh’s ” and “ Aah’s ” exchanged through hushed gossip. Who could this person be, they asked themselves.

Imagine the residents’ surprise once they put two and two together.

Of all people. Him? Really? Were you mad as a hatter?

From then on, you followed March everywhere. Attached at his side like a leech. And though he considered you a dear friend, you weren’t much more to him than a loyal dog. You offered your help whenever you saw fit. And, somewhat reluctantly, he allowed it.

To his surprise, March found you respected his personal space. You’d disappear when he found your company too overwhelming. Sometimes, you were gone for days. Or even weeks. Off to explore the hotel again. Or to drift aimlessly as you did in the days before you’d found him. Uncertain as to what you should do in your lonesome. Sometimes, you’d listen to music. Clamorous racket of the modern era.

And eventually, always, you returned.

Sometimes, March found he missed your presence when you were gone.

And despite the admiration you carried for him, you valued March’s love for his dearest wife. The Countess. Often, you’d go so far as to listen to him drone on and on about her. And he could. If March were allowed the opportunity, he’d speak of her for centuries. He’d reminisce about his most cherished memories of her. His Elizabeth. Mrs. March. When March had his monthly dinners with his dearest, you felt it necessary to assist. You were insistent upon it, actually. Helping alongside Ms. Evers, you did what you could to make those nights as grand and romantic as possible. And when he banished Ms. Evers, you didn’t hesitate to take over entirely. Every one of those special nights, you were there to help him prepare.

Once the dinners themselves started, you’d run off. Leaving the pair undisturbed. And he wouldn’t see you again until the next morning.

One night, March sat across from the countess at the table. She glared at him with a half-lidded, miserable expression. But March missed this glare. Because he’d been busy watching you leave. He smiled, raising his glass to you. And you waved him off, wishing him luck, before closing the door.

At that very moment, he made a decision.

The next night came, and there he sat. Present at the dinner table again. Only, you were his cherished guest of the evening. Dinner lay before you both. Though, in death, you never ate. March watched with a grin as you sipped some champagne. You fluttered delicate lashes his way. Devotion leaking like tears from your eyes. A delighted smile played across your lips. One always present in his company, he found.

“Darling! I assume you’re wondering why it is I’ve called you here tonight, hm?” He posed the question rather excitedly.

Your pretty, doe eyes widened at that. You poor thing. Your cheeks burned in a flurry of rose red. Even in the dim, candle-lit light of the room. Even at a distance, across the table, March could see your blush clear as day. He smirked into his glass.

Never, in all the years since the two of you met, had he ever addressed you as darling.

The effect this seemed to have on you was very much apparent. He could see the shift in your expression. The way you’d fallen breathless under his cold-blooded gaze. March couldn’t help but find your obvious desire for him…amusing.

“Uhm…y-...yes. Well…sorta? I figured this was just another…casual, hang-out night for us!” Your quiet, timid voice spoke aloud.

March lowered his glass, and he hummed.

“Casual? I suppose one could consider this casual, if they’d prefer.” March said, “All the same, I’ve called you here because…I have a proposition for you!”

“Wh-uh…what kinda proposition, sir?”

“Let’s not dance around the matter any longer, dear. Simply put, I’m well aware.” He said.

Confusion overtook your delicate features, and your brows knitted together. March sat still in his seat with a knowing smirk. You tilted your head, bringing your own glass down to the table.

“I’m…confused. You’re aware of what, exactly?”

“Why, that you’re in love with me, of course.” March stated.

Your eyes widened further. March caught the awkward movement of one of your hands. It trembled where it lay on the table. And when you spoke again, you did so shyly. Your voice was as soft as the pink in your cheeks.

“A-Am I?” You dared to ask. As though he hadn't known all these years.

March’s knowing grin spread wider. A dark, domineering color washed over his eyes. And he fixed you with an intimidating look. One that could so easily kill, had you been anyone else. Even in death, you felt your stomach twist in fluttery knots at the sight. You dropped your bashful gaze to the table, too nervous to look him in the eye. You were being avoidant, March knew. And your denial only heightened his desire to bait you.

“I’m not stupid, old friend. For how long?” He asked.

“Since…” You swallowed nervously, shrinking in on yourself, “...the moment I saw you.”

March’s expression remained unchanged. His cold gaze unblinking.

“All this time?”

Taking a brave chance at looking him in the eye, you glanced upward. And you were met with that empty, black gaze. Pools of ink, much like an abyss, stared intensely at you. You didn’t need to say anything further. His suspicions were confirmed then. March’s brows pressed together in thought.

“I…see.” He said, and he brought his hand to his chin, “Well, in all those years? You’ve proven yourself undoubtedly loyal to me. You see, so often, when Ms. Evers was around. Though, I did care for her. She had these…maddening tendencies. She’d express her apparent distaste for my darling wife. And she was incredibly passive. Selfishly so.”

As March spoke, his tone shifted. Infected with a venomous sting, and unbridled hatred. His other hand, resting on the table, clenched into a fist.

“As you’re aware…Ms. Evers…she deceived me. In the name of love, was her excuse. Such a…disappointing betrayal.” March lingered on the statement for a moment longer.

He snapped himself out of his spiteful rage. Blinking, March perked up. And his handsome grin returned.

“But, you! You’re quite the opposite of her, aren’t you? Wouldn’t you say? Never once have you said an unkind word. You’ve always been so polite to my dearest Mrs. March. And so generous to me! I can't recall you ever acting selfishly. And for that, I must tell you, I am profoundly grateful. It's so dreadfully difficult to find someone you can trust these days.”

“O-Of course!” You nodded, speaking in a gentle tone, “I guess…I just don’t really care if you-uh…if you never feel the same way I do. Being by your side, sir…getting to see you every day…”

Dreamily, you sighed. Like a dame in a daze of infatuation. The sweetest smile graced your blushing face.

“To see that smile of yours. And those eyes…” You sighed once more, “To hear your heavenly voice…that’s enough for me.”

You allowed a little…indulgence to slip through your confessions. Admiration and adoration for March permeated within your every word. Looking at you, he could practically see with his own eyes the unconditional love scorching with a passionate fury in your eyes. He might’ve even felt for himself your amorous desire. It exuded like pheromones from your admittedly fetching body.

He almost found it…endearing.

March blinked, clearing his throat. He tugged at his collar.

“Yes…I trust your devotion knows no earthly bounds, my dear.” He said, bringing his hands together before him, “Which is why, I’d like to present to you…that proposition! I’m nothing, if not a man of mercy. And if anyone is more than deserving of my mercy, it’s you, old friend.” March pointed to you with a ring-clad finger. And curiously, you tilted your head. “If you recall…before my dearest passed? She and I often had those dinners together. One night a month! They were…so very special to me. Truly a gift. The only thing that kept me balanced in this endless, monotonous purgatory of my own design. …Such a treat it was…to share at least…one night with my beloved.”

“It must’ve been nice, sir. Especially after she passed? To have her around more often? I know that meant everything to you.”

“It did.” March smiled fondly. And yet, as quick as it came, his adoring smile fell.

A broken-hearted melancholy plagued his ghostly features.

“Though…our time together has…diminished these days. She avoids me anymore. Hasn’t spoken a word to me in…weeks. Do you know that, at last night’s dinner? She didn’t say a goddamn thing! And again, she’s run off in search of…the pleasures of other men…”

March stared off, his dead-eyed gaze dropping to the table.

“It’s a….barren feeling. The most desolate ache I’ve ever endured…” He confessed.

Sympathetic, little goof. You looked at him then with an expression of sympathy, and opened your mouth to speak. March interrupted you before you could even begin. The very, last thing he wanted was your pity. At the flip of a dime, March perked up once more. He clapped his hands together loudly, suddenly appearing chipper. Beaming a wide, uncannily sweet grin.

“But nevermind all that, darling! What I’m proposing…is of a similar nature. For you, if you’d like! If it’d satisfy your deepest, perverted desires? Then, for one night a month…I, James Patrick March, owner of the hotel Cortez and America’s most infamous executioner…am all yours!”

Your eyes flew open wide. Like a precious, vulnerable creature under the gaze of a vicious predator. And your darling face…it burned an even brighter shade of red. March’s smile crooked up into a smirk. Addicting it was…this influence he seemed to have over you. Precious thing.

“Wait…wh-...what??” You waved your hands, “Oh, no, no, no! I couldn’t ever ask that of you, sir! Please, really! Don’t even worry about it! I’m not-...I don’t have to have you in that way to survive our purgatory together!”

The silence that overtook the room was deafening. In the background, the ticking of an old clock rang on. Along with the distant, alluring melody of a gramophone. John McCormack. Roses of Picardy. March stood up after some time. And slowly, steadily, he made his way to you at the other end of the dining table. He approached you wordlessly, eyes like obsidian focused entirely on your own. Analyzing and observing. Once close enough, he reached a large hand out. His palm fell to your shoulder, squeezing you in a firm grip. Leaning in, March spoke in a low, gravelly tone.

“Are you suggesting that you’re…ungrateful? You do realize this is…a gracious gesture…coming from a man of my status…” He didn’t break eye contact with you for even a second. March’s grip on your shoulder tightened, “...don’t you, little one?"

Despite the menacing nature of his actions, you let your eyes so shamelessly trail up and down his fancily-dressed form. And March saw all of it. Every movement of your eyes. The motion of your throat as you swallowed. The not-so-subtle way you leaned into his touch. How your thighs pressed together as if to relieve some…personal tension.

He raised a brow. Curious.

Your eyes sparkled innocently up at him. And again, you fluttered those delicate lashes.

“I’m not ungrateful, sir! I’m so honored. I mean, obviously, I’m honored! But…” You scoffed, as if in disbelief, “But, me? I mean…come on… you ? With me??” With a soft huff of a laugh, you looked down at your lap, “But…I’m not…Mrs. March. I’m…nothin’ like her.”

March hummed a sound which suggested his pity for you.

“You’re right. You’re not…” He muttered in monotone, “You lack everything my dearest Elizabeth has. Her grace. Her ethereal elegance. She…is a creature of divinity.” March paused for a beat, “But you’ve no confidence nor class, I’m afraid. You’re more…a being of the mundane.”

Again, a sinister loathing invaded his gaze.

“But…unlike Ms. Evers…wretched, old bat…” He growled.

A wild grin spread across March’s lips, his teeth sinking into them. He brought his other hand to your chin, gently tilting it upward. Upon your face, he caught a broken-hearted frown.

“You, darling…” He hummed, “You have been blessed with certain…more pleasant qualities…”

His hand on your shoulder grazed a thumb across it. March let his eyes drop to your figure, as if to suggest something. And in that instant, you felt your lifeless heart skip a beat. As though your soul were springing to life again. Born anew.

“I…have?” You furrowed your brows, “So…what you’re sayin’ is…this is you settling? For someone lesser?”

March hummed again, considering your words. He pulled both hands from you.

“I prefer to think of it this way. In return for your undeniable devotion and loyalty throughout the tenure of our friendship. I’m giving you the opportunity to be with me. Consider it a reward, if you will. However you wish, my dear. One night a month, you can have me. Romantically. Physically. Intimately.”

“Uh…okay…wow! That’s-...that’s…very kind of you, sir.” You stared up at March with those doting eyes. Biting your lip, you hesitated to ask, “So…wh-...when would we-uhm…when would we start?” A pause, and you nervously stammered over your words, “I-if I were to-uh…accept your…generous proposition?”

Immediate eagerness. Exactly the response he’d suspected from someone as smitten as yourself. March leered down at you smugly, his eyes falling half-lidded

Desperate, little thing, weren’t you?

“Tonight, if you’d prefer! Or…any night of your choosing. Whatever you want, darling. I insist. This courtesy is entirely yours.” He suggested.

A moment of contemplative quiet passed as you thought it over. And March watched you like a hawk, patiently waiting. Though, he already knew exactly what you were going to say. Even before you’d made a decision. The rosy color blooming darker in your cheeks ultimately gave you away.

“T-Tonight then? If you’ll…have me.” You stammered, “I’m honored, sir.”

March wanted to laugh. To boast that he could read you all too well. But calmly, he nodded.

“Very well!”

He walked off then. March pulled at the fabric of his bowtie, tugging until it came completely undone. Following that motion, he shrugged his jacket off. Folding it neatly and setting it aside, he moved to unbutton the first, few buttons of his dress shirt. March disappeared into another room, out of sight. But you heard his familiar, smoky voice call out.

“Come!”

Hesitating, you stood from your seat at the table. And with tiny, careful steps, you followed the sound of March’s voice. In a vintage loveseat, you found him waiting. He sat with his chin in his hand, a cigarette burning between two fingers. His legs were spread open wide. And he patted his lap.

“Best not to waste anymore time, dear.”

“Wh-...What are we doin’?” You asked, looking down at your hands as you fiddled with them.

Poor dear. You were standing in the room so timidly. Looking innocent, and so very delicate. Like a frightened, fluffy, little deer. Easy game, for a hunter like March.

“Isn’t this what you want?” He took a drag of his cigarette, his tone low and vibrating. March spread his legs open further, “Don’t be bashful, now, little one. I’ll only bite if you ask it of me.”

You seemed hesitant. Fearful of making any sudden moves. But, with a facade of confidence March knew all too well you didn’t possess, you approached him. And you lowered yourself into his lap slowly, struggling to maintain eye contact. Eye contact was one of March’s many, gifted talents. And being such a shy dame, you could barely keep up. Once snug on his lap, you took time to admire March. Carefully, you trailed your hands down his chest. And you let your trembling fingers brush the fabrics of his perfectly tailored clothes. Clothes once deep-cleaned of blood-stains by the very maid he considered an abomination.

Your hands moved upwards, first tracing over the bloody slit in his neck. Before cupping his cheeks for only a moment. You brushed a small thumb over one of his dimples. March smiled at you, hardly invested in what you were doing. Allowing you to have your fun. You touched March with careful, delicate movements. Handling him as if he were your most precious, priceless treasure. You looked at him as though you couldn’t fathom the reality before you. As though being with him like this was a foggy, distant dream. One you’d never ask to wake from.

Daringly, you leaned in. And you let your cool breath ghost over his lips.

“A-Are you sure about this, sir?” You asked, timid as ever.

March appeared unbothered and uncaring. Yet, admittedly, he felt somewhat curious of your next move. How far could a shy, innocent thing like you take this…intimate interaction? March assumed you’d clock out after a bit of heavy petting. With an equanimous smirk, he nodded.

“Positively certain.” He muttered, “And please, while we’re together like this, darling? Do call me James. You can forgo the formalities.”

You blinked, amazed. Looking into his eyes with all the love and adulation in the ever-expanding cosmos. Marveling in his presence. Your nose brushed his, and you leaned even further in.

And you kissed him.

It was a clumsy, graceless kiss at first. But as you continued, you found your confidence. A heated flow enveloped your every movement. And for the first, few kisses, March didn’t reciprocate. He kept a hand at the armrest of the loveseat. His other occupied with that cigarette. He didn’t care to touch you yet. But as your kisses drew him in deeper, as you mewled little noises into his lips…March found himself giving in. One of his large hands found your hips, squeezing there first. Before moving to wrap his arm around your back. He pulled you in close. And you ran your hands up through his hair. Freeing those irresistible curls of his.

Finally, at long last, he kissed you back. And in that instant, you drank in the motions of a man far more cultivated and refined than you could ever hope to be. In a thousand lifetimes, you could never live up to his status. And yet, he kissed you anyway. If you could taste, his lips would’ve tasted of champagne and nicotine.

“Wow-” You breathlessly gasped into his lips.

A flash of fire burned in his lidded eyes, and he peered up at you. March let out a soft, vibrating chuckle.

“Eager are we, darling?”

“Uh…” Poor, little goof. Still so lost in your lovestruck daze, “I just-”

The urge to kiss March again proved far too much for you to resist. You leaned in again, capturing his skilled lips in another flurry of deep kisses. And when you pulled back, you shook your head. For a moment, you simply stared at March. Taking in his ghostly features. Admiring his handsome face, his black eyes, the curls of his hair.

“Thank you, si-uhm…James. Thank you. I…never imagined…you’d ever let me touch you. Let alone k-uhm…kiss you like this…”

He chuckled again, humming a deep noise in his chest. The sound sent a spark of something gratifying straight to your core.

“I told you, didn’t I? I am, after all, a man of mercy…”

You brought a hand up to his cheek, stroking it gently with soft fingers. March noticed that, whenever you touched him, you did so as if he were a timeless lover.

“You most certainly are…” Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his forehead, “...so gracious.”

March hadn’t expected you to wiggle backwards. And where did you think you were going? Were you giving up already? Giving into your paranoid worries? You let yourself sink off his lap and onto your knees. Scooting your way across the carpet and in between his legs, you gazed up at March with those lovely, doe eyes.

“You know…I’d do anything for you, don’t you James?” You trailed your hands up to his trousers, your fingers fiddling with the buttons, “...is this alright?”

To say he was caught off guard by your boldness, would be one hell of an understatement. His innocent, pure-of-heart, little goof? Submitting to him on their knees so easily like this? How had he never suspected this of you? March’s empty eyes widened, watching you from above with a dark, predatory gaze.

“If it’s what you so desire, then…do continue. I’m not going to stop you. This is your night, little one. Don’t you remember?”

You stared at him for a moment longer, uncertain of yourself. Before finally working the buttons of his trousers open. Bringing a small hand through the slit in the fabric, you felt around. And your fingers brushed across-

An adorable gasp escaped your lips.

You…hadn’t expected him to be hard. If the surprised, embarrassed look on your face was anything to go by. Because surely, the James Patrick March himself couldn’t possibly be aroused over someone as mundane as you. Could he?

Sucking in a slow breath, you continued. Your fingers snuck their way through the softness of his undergarments. A bit of movement, and you pulled his thick cock free. At the sight of the twitching length, those sparkling eyes of yours lit up brightly. Beaming, as if mesmerized. You were practically drooling over his cock. And you’d barely touched it at all.

March’s breath hitched from above. He watched you attentively, focused on the movement of your small hand. It stroked and squeezed around the thickness of him. Somewhat skillfully, he’d have to admit. Almost as though you knew exactly what you were doing. How is it that here, touching him intimately, you weren’t the least bit clumsy?

You bravely tilted your head upward, meeting his darkening gaze.

“You said…I could do whatever I wanted?” You asked. Your tone had fallen considerably lower. It sounded seductive, even, “May I sing your praises, James?”

March had never heard you speak in that tone before. He hadn't realized you were even capable.

Wordlessly, he nodded. You gave a few more firm strokes of his cock, leaning in to kiss the tip gently. And as the soft wetness of your lips brushed it, you hummed. Reveling in every second you had March like this. Even in such a filthy, perverted position. With the head of his leaking cock at your lips. Your eyes glimmered, acting as windows. And your complete devotion for him shined through like the light of the sun. Holding eye contact (when did you get so good at that?), you generously peppered his cock in mouthy, wet kisses.

“Just let me worship you, James…” You sighed, dragging your free hand down one of his thighs. Your nails drew lines into the fabric, “Let me appreciate you. That’s…really the only thing I could ever ask for.”

He kept watching you, occasionally taking long drags from his cigarette. March found himself in awe of your boldness and honesty. Though, if there was one thing he knew about you for certain. You were always honest with him. Turning your attention to his aching cock, you pushed the head past your lips. You lapped up the bead of precum leaking from the tip, mewling in pure delight. Suckling for a few beats too short, you pulled away by an inch.

“You…are the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen. Did you know that, James? Have I ever told you? I could stare at you all day. Every day. Forever, if you let me. You’ve got the most stunning, beautiful, brown eyes…”

You paused in the midst of your praises to push the tip of his cock past your lips again. Letting your tongue dance around it, you stroked the remaining length with your hand. And just when he thought you might give him more, you pulled away.

“You can’t imagine how thrilling it is to have those ferocious eyes looking down on me right now. Oh, and I absolutely adore your smile. How full your lips are. Kissing them was like a gift of temptation, straight from the depths of hell. And I am in no way deserving of such a thing…”

March was steadily beginning to lose his composure. That calm, unbothered demeanor of his teetered on the edge. Threatening to fall with every cutesy noise you made, and every flick of your tongue. With each confession of your deepest admirations, he felt himself breaking. March knew you loved him. He knew you found purpose in serving him. And yet, somehow, he hadn’t been aware of the extent at which your worship of him ran. He took another drag of his cigarette. March’s free hand found your hair, and his oversized palm settled there. He didn’t yet tug, but merely braced himself.

“No modern man dresses nearly as elegantly as you do. Those men at those high-class fashion shows? The ones they have here? They can’t even begin to compare. It’s almost intimidating…how refined and elegant you truly are.”

You halted your confessions, only to take the entire length of his twitching cock into your mouth. Moaning around it, you sucked hard. Letting your tongue drag along the underside, across pulsing veins. You pulled off all over again. And March’s grip in your hair tightened only slightly. You continued to stroke his cock, spreading the wetness your tongue left behind.

“You’re so intimidating. So good at striking fear into those around you. But, god…it only makes me more attracted to you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough of you…”

Breaking eye contact, you focused on his cock. You stopped to admire the heavy weight of him on your tongue. And you had the nerve to giggle with the innocence of a dame in church. March remained speechless. He stared you down as you took his full length into your mouth again. Your praises fell short for a bit. Instead, you were fixated on pleasuring him with more enthusiasm. Your movements slowly grew rapid. But as you edged him further, you popped off. You nuzzled his soaked, aching cock with your cheek. And once more, you giggled. It was infuriating.

“I wish you could hear your voice. Fuck…your voice. Your accent. It’s to die for!” The smile you gave him radiated purity, and you bit your swollen lip between your teeth, “You’re to die for. Y’know? I’d die for you. Over and over again.”

Dragging your tongue up and down his cock, you peppered it in more, loving kisses. And you fluttered those pretty lashes.

“As many times as you wanted me to. If I could die by your hands, James, I would. If it’d make you happy? If cutting my throat and watching the life drain from my eyes would satisfy you…”

March’s grip in your hair tightened even further, clenching around your soft locks.

Who knew his little goof could be such a shameless sycophant? Groveling over his deviant passions.

He was growing immensly impatient. You’d carried on this little charade of praises for far too long. When you lowered your mouth over his cock, March guided you. With the rough hold he had on your head, he forced you down. The action caught you by surprise. As the tip of his cock pressed into the back of your throat, you gagged, squeezing around the head. And a pleased grunt erupted off March’s tongue, cigarette smoke rising from his lips. Reaching over the arm of the loveseat, he put the cigarette out in an ashtray. And while doing so, March kept his half-lidded eyes, dark as burning coals, on you. His throbbing length filled your throat, and you took all of it. Every inch. You squeezed his thigh hard with a hand, letting your fingernails dig into the fabric of his trousers. As you clawed at his thigh for purchase, a wicked grin spread across his face. Salty tears stung your pretty eyes. They poured down your flushed cheeks completely out of your control. An embarrassing display. March’s breathing picked up in pace. He jerked you backwards, pulling you off his cock by your hair. Generously, he allowed you a moment to catch your breath. Not that you needed it, really. Being dead and all. Smirking down at you, he sank his teeth into his lip. And upon his pale cheeks, you caught the slightest hint of a pink hue.

You’d never once seen March blush on account of something you did.

“Y-You were…you were saying, darling?” March, usually so well spoken, stumbled over his words.

With a smile, you returned to your previous motions. Dragging your tongue lazily up and down his cock, you stroked him with a hand.

“U-Uhm…” That timid nature of yours returned. Perhaps on account of his manhandling? But you fought to shake it off, “Y’know somethin’ else I love about you, James? That look in your eye. I can’t even describe it. When you’re feelin’ bloodthirsty? When you’re thinkin’ about unleashin’ hell? You look divine like that.”

His gaze turned colder then. March’s fingers dug fingernails further into your skull. And the gesture was near painful. He didn’t seem to care, even when you hissed in response to the sting. Your puffy lips and mouth were drenched in drool. And your hair! His rough handling left it frazzled and wild. You looked an absolute mess of yourself. And in any other circumstance, March would’ve found it repulsive. At this moment, however…

“That…storm in your eyes. The passion that rages on once you’ve taken the life of another. There’s somethin’ so…irresistible about it. Makes me wish I could’ve dropped on my knees and worshiped you like this sooner.” You covered his cock in those mouthy, sloppy kisses, “I just want to submit myself to you, James. Let you have all of me.”

“Really now? Is that how you feel, little one? Truly? ” He spoke suddenly, catching you by surprise.

His fingers curled harshly into your hair, and he pulled you back in a rough, swift motion.

“Enough of this.” March said, “I realize, I said before, this was your night. And you should be the one calling the shots, with me at your leniency. However, since you seem to want my attention so desperately, darling. You’re going to listen to me now.”

You stared up at him with a wide-eyed, sinless gaze. And you didn't dare to say a single word. Good then.

“On the floor. And strip yourself bare for me, would you?” He commanded.

You let yourself fall backwards. And with the motion, March’s grip in your hair loosened. He let go, keeping his eyes on you, as you scooted back along the carpeted floor. The rough surface burned the skin of your elbows. But in death, it didn’t matter. Come tomorrow, you'd be left with not a single mark. Zero evidence of the night's events. Hastily, you shed your clothes. Your fingers trembled with every movement. March followed, standing slowly from his seat. He watched as you laid yourself naked and bare before him. And he pulled down his suspenders. His pants followed, leaving him in those soft undergarments. March hadn’t yet removed his dress shirt, and he didn’t bother to now.

He dropped to his knees on the floor, crawling over you with an animalistic gaze in his eyes. Immediately upon reaching you, he kissed you deeply. Drinking down every surprised noise you made in response. Your noises. Those mewls and squeals. He wanted to hear more. He had to hear more.

March wasn’t the fondest of missionary. But that devotion, that love, that worship bleeding profusely from your eyes. He didn’t want to miss a single moment of it. March found he needed to look at you. To watch you. His hands trailed down your body, touching you with precise grace. Each touch started with a delicate brush of his fingertips, steadily growing rougher. And there you were, pleasured by the hands of a murderer with almost a hundred years of practice behind him.

As he looked you over with those dark eyes, he could see you slipping so easily into madness. Submitting to him, an eternal ghost of pure malevolence.

And you were pushed even further over the brink once March buried two, long fingers in your cunt. All without a single warning. No preparation. He shoved his digits deep, watching you with a devious smirk. You breathlessly moaned, and your slick walls squeezed around his fingers. March knew every angle at which to twist and press his digits. Only to spur more of those lovely noises out of you.

His long, dexterous fingers pulled themselves from your cunt, and you longed for more. You ached for him, whining pitiful, little protests. And your desperate desire was soon satiated.

In one, rough motion, March forced his cock through your folds. He buried himself deep in a single thrust, growling a rough noise in response to your screams. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around him. And you pulled March closer, inching him impossibly deeper.

He hadn’t been this…intimate with another person in…what felt like a millenia. Having his cock buried to the hilt in the tight plush of your cunt…it was enough to make him lose it. March had to take a moment to gather himself. Before he began harshly drilling you into the floor. And the rug underneath you burned painfully against your skin. Though, in this position, you couldn’t help but find the sensation extremely gratifying.

Your screams were all the encouragement he needed. And you begged him to fuck you harder. To vent all his pent up anger and fury using your fragile body as his aid. March gazed down at you, his eyes carrying a near sinister edge. The pace at which he fucked you grew vigorous and unrelenting. A jolt of pleasure shot through your core suddenly, as March pressed his deft fingers to your clit. Rubbing slick, generous circles against the sensitive bud, he soaked in the sight of you falling apart underneath him. Your precious moans were like music to his ears. March cooed quiet praises in a rugged voice, encouraging you to give in. To succumb to the sweet allure of release. He knew you needed it desperately. All the pent up desire you'd carried for him for so long must have felt torturous. A man of mercy, he was. He couldn't allow you to suffer like that any longer. Not after all you'd done for him. After having been so loyal.

He felt your release, as it hit you like a rushing wave. Your walls constricted around his cock in a tight pull, and your entire body trembled. Those delightful screams of yours were more than likely heard across every floor of the hotel. But March's mind was much too hazy with pleasure to care. He wanted the world to hear you. For you to let them all know just who it was you'd submitted yourself to entirely. And as you came down from your high, sobbing soft cries. You met his eyes. Tears rained down your cheeks, and you shivered under his cold gaze. How vulnerable you looked...

One of March’s large, veiny hands found your neck. He squeezed with so much strength that, had you been alive; he easily would’ve cut off your circulation. However, in death, the ache that came with asphyxiation felt like euphoria. Under the pressure of his fingers and hands, you were ascending to the stars. Or, rather…considering you were getting mercilessly fucked by a devilish being such as March? Perhaps a more accurate comparison would be: March was dragging you violently down to an all too pleasurable circle of hell itself.

His cock hit your cervix with a few more, harsh thrusts of his hips. And you were left to suffer the ache of overstimulation. As he squeezed your neck hard enough to leave bruises, and tight enough to kill any living person. March reached his peak. A thick warmth burst from his cock, overflowing you from deep inside. His release filled you up until it leaked from your folds. Purity and innocence sullied. You were his little goof now.

You probably expected March to pull out, now that you received exactly what you wanted. Surely, March would move away from you. Only to clean up, redress himself, and go about his business. Keeping his distance until the next month came. And…he thought he’d have done the same. March didn’t care for you on a deep level of any kind. A loyal dog. That’s all you were. A follower. Indeed. A naive, not-so-innocent, little goof. Who also, just so happened to be completely and utterly in love with him.

And March was not at all enchanted by your obsessive devotion. Why would he be? There was only one woman for him. His dearest wife. His Elizabeth. Mrs. March. If anything, you were simply a means of distraction. Easy company in light of his most lonesome days. His old friend. You weren’t graceful. You weren’t classy. You were, at your core, his polar opposite. Of course. Yes. In the euphoric haze of post-orgasmic bliss, he'd almost forgotten.

But even so…

March found he couldn’t pull himself from you. For a few moments longer, he kept his softening cock buried inside your slick walls. There he rested, on his knees, staring down at you from above. His gaze was much less blackened. Instead, replaced with a warm brown. Leaning forward, March buried his flushed face in your shoulder. He nibbled the gentle skin of your collarbone, breathing out his exhaustion.

He chuckled a hushed, but maniacal noise. The vibrations of which tickled your bruised skin. Not to worry, those bruises wouldn’t be there tomorrow. Some possessive part of him wished they would be, though. March raised his head up, looking down into your eyes with a soft, more than satisfied smirk. The curls of his hair fell even more loose upon his head. And once more, he leaned in, only to brush his nose against yours.

“You know…” He mumbled in a croaky whisper. You felt him slowly, gently thrust his hips forward, “...the night is still young, little one. And there’s so much more the two of us could do together…should you be interested...”

His lips met yours in a kiss far too intimate for a casual session of coitus. And you kissed him nervously back, as though you weren’t allowed to indulge yourself. That familiar sense of naivety and purity claimed you all over again. And for whatever reason, it made March want to kiss you more. To envelop you entirely, all his own. His old friend. His little goof. Poor, not-so-innocent sap.

Maybe he was...a little fond of you.

Only a little.

#james patrick march x reader #james patrick march x y/n #james patrick march x you #jpm x reader #jpm x y/n #jpm x you #smut #american horror story #ahs

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sunflowerharrington · 2 years

Note

I just saw your screenshot from your jpm one-shot thing and OH MY GOD PLEASE I BEG OF YOU POST ITTTTTT😫🤤🥵

nobody but you - james patrick march

• summary: after a slight hiccup at the bar on the opening night of the hotel cortez, james shows you exactly why you’re his number one. not his wife, not the other woman, not the maid; hazel evers. nobody but you. and he shows you why he should also be your number one.

• warning(s): james patrick march, possessiveness, jealousy, smut, 18+, sir kink, threatening somebody behind their back, cheating (question mark?), alcohol mention, not proofread, not edited!

• word count: 3223

• notes: i got slightly carried away, love. enjoy 🧡 it’s more of a lead up to sexy time <3 (i’m down bad babes) and i’m trying a new format for my fics, i think they look much better like this. also my kyle fic kinda flopped so i’m trying again with some james march, which is hopefully spicy to you. also also you’re basically in elizabeth’s shoes but like, you actually love james.

• oh, you mean this old thing?

• i advise listening to yumeji’s theme, composed by shigeru umebayashi, but only if you want to. i have a feeling james would like this piece of classical music, and it would be the type of music you would hear at the opening night of the cortez being played on a piano. oh my god how romantic. also, feel free to listen to valse sentimentale composed by tchaikovsky.

Halloween. The one night of the year where people can dress up like a total slut and get away with it. And nobody would blink an eye. And tonight, you’re no exception, and you have a plan up your sleeve, to tease your lover as much as you can while his guests are around. So he can’t do anything about your bratty behaviour until much further into the night when the lights dim and the covers are thrown down to the foot of the bed.

You pull the clear thin straps of your red dress up and around your shoulders, smoothing down the silky, smooth material around your waist, tracing your curves in the mirror as you await your lover. And then you smile, feeling the sensation of two hands holding your waist, pulling you closer, coiling around your waist to lock you in an embrace.

“Dearest,” he mutters into your neck, pressing one kiss to your skin, watching as your neck prickles with goosebumps.

You smile as you and James sway effortlessly to the melody of the birds chirping outside, for the last time before they would go to sleep for the night. James takes your hands in his and spins you around to face him, keeping one hand on your waist, holding you firmly in his slightly possessive grip. And the idea of making him jealous turns you on immensely, and the thoughts of what he might do to you later as a result turns you on even more than you ever thought possible.

“How are you feeling about tonight, my love?”

“Excited for dinner,” you remark, which is the truth, but there is a lot more to it than you’re letting on. You subtly look him up and down as the words leave your lips, and James smirks as he takes your hand, leading you out of your shared bedroom.

Your ride down the elevator is deafeningly quiet to say the least, the only sound being James tapping his wedding ring-ed finger off one of the rails inside the elevator. You were hurt when you first found out he was a married man, to Beverly Cortez; the daughter of the man who helped James create the hotel, but after countless reassurances from him, you decided to stop caring about what other people thought of yours and James’ relationship.

Out of the blue, James places one hand on the back of your neck, and the other on the small of your back. He slowly dips you backwards over his knee, adjusting his arms to brush his fingers under your chin, drawing you closer.

The gesture causes your bottom lip to tremble slightly, and after, his fingers begin moving again, taking your small burst of pleasure away. But all at once, he places the thumb of his free hand on your bottom lip, gazing at you, your mind, body and soul encapsulated by the dark pools of mahogany in his eyes. Your breath stutters as his index and middle finger trail to the pulse point on your neck, pressing down with little force. He turns your face to the side slightly, counting as your heartbeat increases as a result of his actions, your body giving way under his touch.

“Your heart seems to be beating faster than usual, dearest. Are you alright?” He asks, smirking as you gulp down another stuttering breath, hard.

“I feel marvellous, love. Even more so with you by my side,” you say, breathlessly, as you lose yourself in those big black eyes looking back at you.

The gesture is confident, having you tremble beneath his touch, melting each time his perfect fingers caress your warm skin, and he holds for a moment as the breath catches in your throat.

He glances down at your lips, and then back up to your eyes, before guiding your mouth towards his own. Your fingers tremble slightly on his arm, and they tighten as his lips reconnect with yours.

Electricity and internal ecstasy crashes through both of your bodies as you glide your hand up and over James’ shoulder, and onto his neck, pulling him closer to you, and in turn deepening the kiss.

His tongue gently brushes over your bottom lip, which immediately falls open for him, and not a second later his tongue meets yours, gently at first as he pulls you closer against him. Your whole body is on fire, heart racing and skin prickling with little goosebumps.

“Oh, Darling,” he mutters, smiling against your lips, tightening his grip around your waist, tipping you even further backwards.

James’ fingers thread themselves into your hair, gently pulling your head back, deepening the kiss further. And you both smile into the next kiss, after both having let out a moan of pleasure into the last, and as you pull away, you’re giggling furiously, and James is smiling.

He presses another feather light kiss to your soft lips as he swivels you back to stand upright. As you slide out of his passionate embrace, he grants himself some well-earned pleasure and presses a soft kiss to the skin at the base of your neck, just as the doors of the elevator open. And you and James are ready to make your grand entrance.

James holds out his arm for you to take, and you accept, curling both of your arms around his. You walk in sync into the middle of the room, where the guests have arrived in horse-and-carriages and are slowly entering the hotel through the giant doors. All dressed to the nines in their magnificent looking ball gowns and extraordinary suits, tailored by only the best.

You and James go your separate ways to greet the guests; James spending a lot more time with the female guests than you think is necessary, and you spending at most ten seconds greeting each man.

“You would think a gentleman like James would not flirt with other women in front of you. How pathetic. Look how divine you are, Ms Y/L/N.” The bartender, Gracie, says from behind the bar as you walk over to the bar for a drink. “What’s your order for this evening, dolly?”

“Poison, so I can put it in James’ drink,” you reply, deadpanned. You had had enough of his bullshit tonight, and the night has barely even begun. “But then who would run the Cortez? Mrs Evers? You?”

“You, of course,” She starts, stating it matter-of-factly. “I’d advise you to go talk to Mr Valentino who’s standing in the corner over there.” She points in the distance. “Two can play at that game James is playing with you.”

“Oh darling, I love only you,” you say, mocking him. “It would not surprise me in the slightest if he’s having an affair with Hazel behind my back.”

“Oh, dolly. Hazel is not the type of woman he likes. Maybe he’s doing it to make you jealous.”

You nod, though you think poisoning his drink is not the smartest idea, as Gracie swirls around your usual alcoholic drink of choice in a small glass, trying to take your mind off what James is currently doing.

“I was surprised he hasn’t proposed yet since we've been together a year, but after seeing that… I don’t think there’s hope anymore.”

Moments later you feel familiar hands grabbing your waist, pulling you into an embrace, much different than the one in your bedroom ten minutes ago. It’s cold, distant almost, and James already smells like another woman’s perfume.

“Oh, now you want me?” You scoff, shoving his hands away from your waist. “That’s not how it works, March. You cannot go off with another woman and expect me to be okay with it. I’ve dealt with it enough with Beverly and I don’t want to have to do it again!”

James’ lips part, his mouth falling open in shock, breath stuttering as he tries to get words out, but no sound leaves his throat. He swallows the breath that caught in his throat, and his shock went down with it, leaving his frustration.

“I barely touched her, that is hardly the reason why my darling is so upset,” he says to Liz, who tuts at him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, we were watching you, Mr March. You were all over that woman! I can even smell perfume off you and I know Y/N does not wear Jasmine. Was she even on your mind when you were over there with that other woman?”

James doesn’t say anything, instead leaving the bar in search of you, and he finds you almost immediately; down where the oldest part of the hotel is being renovated.

You didn’t know where you’re running to, but anywhere away from James and the scent of another woman’s perfume lingering on him, and God awful perfume at that. You would think for the grand opening night of the Hotel Cortez she would wear a nice scent at least—

“Darling?” James calls, to no answer from you. “I need to have a private conversation with you before dinner.”

“No, James. Leave me alone—!”

“I am in love with only you, Dearest.”

You scoff, turning your back to him, crossing your arms over your chest. He walks up behind you, trailing his fingers down the curve of your neck, down your arm, down, down, to lace his fingers with yours, unravelling your arms from their crossed position, his lips taking a similar path. “And I will never lay my eyes on another woman again if that makes you happy. I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want you to be upset with me.”

Your heart thrums in your chest as his kisses slow down, trailing back up to your neck, stopping to suck on your skin into his mouth, grazing the skin between his teeth, leaving a mark that would surely show up purple by dinner. But you don’t stop him this time, instead leaning into his soft touch, your breath ragged as his grip on your hips tightens.

“And yet you were flirting with another woman right in front of me,” you retort, his grip on your hips loosening so he can spin you around to face him.

“I was simply complimenting her outfit, my love.”

“So kissing her cheek and whispering in her ear is giving a compliment? Wow, March. You’ve got some nerve,” you scoff, trying to push him away, but his grip on you is too tight.

“I want my guests to feel welcome! I want people to come to my hotel, darling.”

“I’m not buying it,” you say, just as an idea pops into your head. Karma’s a bitch, but James has had it coming. A sly smile stretches the corners of your lips upwards, and you take James’ arm in yours. “You know… Actually, I forgive you. Let’s have a lovely dinner with our guests to celebrate.”

“I will not dare look at another woman, my Darling. You are my one and only. There is nobody I would rather spend my life with, until death do us part.”

One and only, you repeat to yourself in your head as you head back down to the entrance with James, to announce dinner will be served in the next ten minutes.

James takes a seat at the top of the table, and you take the seat closest to him on the left, opposite a young man. He looks to be the same age as James, slightly younger, maybe by a year or two. You make eye contact with him and he smiles back at you, a smile so contagious the corners of your lips begin to turn upwards.

“If I cannot look at other women, you cannot look at other men, my dear,” James says, his brows slightly furrowed.

“Oh so it is alright for you to get another woman’s perfume all over you, and yet I cannot even smile at somebody?” Your smile broadens as the crease between his brows deepens. “Are you jealous, Jimmy?” You say, knowing how much he hates it when you call him that in front of other people.

“Never,” he says between gritted teeth, the grip he has on his knife a bit too tight for comfort. “Now, would you be a dear and help Ms Evers?”

“I—“ you splutter, you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “So you’re treating me like a servant now?”

“No, I’m simply asking you to help so everyone can get their food faster. And so we can be back in our bedroom faster.” Liar, he just wants to punish you, and publicly embarrass you in front of his guests for embarrassing him.

“I can’t get up. I can barely move in this dress on my own, it’s restraining me!”

James leans over towards you, placing one of his strong hands on your thigh. “It is indeed a tight one, my darling,” James says under his breath, matter of factly, tightening his grip on you under the table, making you let out a quiet yelp. One of which you were holding in for quite some time, since the elevator.

James chuckles under his breath, turning to look directly into your eyes. He leans in closer to your ear to whisper; “However, I do quite like watching you squirm. So you will do as I say.”

“James… I—”

“Not now, darling. Do you want to embarrass yourself in front of our guests? I thought so. Now, go help Ms Evers.”

You roll your eyes, shoving James’ hand away from you. He frowns again, and it looks like he’s about to stand up himself.

“Please, excuse my angel and I for a moment,” James announces as he stands to his feet, avoiding eye contact with you. “I’m afraid dinner will have to wait.”

He grabs your wrist and pulls you roughly out of your seat, taking you away from the table and back to the elevator. When you get to your bedroom, James pulls you inside and locks the door behind you both as you walk into the middle of the room.

“Dearest…” he says, flicking the light switch off so you’re in complete darkness. “I believe you need to be reminded of who you belong to.”

“James, I— I can’t see where you are.”

“You will know where I am, my love.” He says from afar, and you can hear his footsteps approaching you, his hot breath ghosting your skin. “Just listen to my voice, there is no need to be scared of the dark.”

He lets his lips linger, hovering right on yours, his cold skin contrasting with your warmth. You can feel his breath on your lips. You can almost taste him. And you both can’t bear it. He presses his lips to yours as he curls his arms around you, pulling you against him, walking you backwards against the wall.

He moans as his tongue finds yours, resting his hand on the nape of your neck, threading his fingers through your hair at the base of your neck. He takes a handful of your hair in his grip and pulls gently, making you exhale loudly against him.

“You like that, Darling? Hm?”

You let out a whimpering moan in response, his hand caressing your waist and back as he kisses you deeply, drifting slowly, subtly, upwards, until he could hook his fingers under the fabric of the top of your dress. He hesitates to roam his hands to the zipper at the back momentarily, until you press closer to him, the movement making his hand drop back to your hip.

You take his bottom lip between your teeth as you pull away, letting it go with a quiet snap, making James groan. “Oh, my. Do that again, my Queen.”

And you do, drawing it out longer than the last time, letting out a soft moan of your own, arching your back and pressing your chest against his. Despite himself, and despite how many times he has fantasized about having you all to himself, nothing compares to how it actually feels, how nervous you make him even when he’s the one making the decisions and deciding what needs to be done tonight. But it isn’t enough, he has to get closer to you, somehow.

“I loved this dress on you, Dearest, but I’m afraid it now has to come off.”

His words send a shiver up your spine, and you can feel his eyes on you, looking deep into your soul though you’re surrounded by darkness, and the anticipation of what he will do next. He takes the small zipper on the back of your dress in between his index finger and thumb, pulling it down, and you take your arms out of the sleeves, letting the garment fall to the floor.

“I’m all yours, Sir,” you say, coiling your arms back around his neck. Though in complete darkness, you feel more exposed than ever, feeling the fabric of James’ suit brushing against your skin as he pulls you back into him, bringing his hand up to caress the side of your face.

“My my, all mine,” he replies. “It didn’t take much for you to admit that you’re mine, my beloved.”

“I just wanted to teach you a lesson, Mr March.”

You bring your hands up to where you think the buttons closing his suit jacket are, and you unbutton them, shoving the garment off him, doing the same with his shirt. You take your fingernails down his chest and stomach, and his fingers get to work unbuckling his belt and trousers.

“A lesson?”

“Shh, James… Less talking, more touching.”

As he is doing so, you start walking him backwards to where you think the bed is, and thank goodness James has a soft landing, as his back hits the mattress. You climb on top of him, your lips attaching themselves to his neck, attacking the skin, and you can almost see the purple marks in the darkness.

You rock your hips against his growing erection, hearing what sounds like whimpers coming from the back of his throat. You’ve never heard him like this before, and God, what a sound for sore ears.

A knock on the door interrupts you both, and you brace yourself, knowing James will begin shouting at whoever it is in 3… 2… “Who dares interrupt my love and I?! I’ll cut your arms off so you won’t bother us again!”

“Dinner has been served Mr March.” It's Ms Evers, so thankfully no limbs will be cut off. Tonight, anyway. “We are all waiting for you and your lovely Y/N.”

“Dinner can wait, Ms Evers. I’m quite busy right now,” he says, not leaving his position on the bed, instead encouraging you to kiss his neck again, threading his fingers through your hair again. “Allow us ten minutes of privacy, and then we shall join our guests for dinner.”

“As you wish, Mr March.”

As you wish, Mr March, you repeat in your mind, mocking her. She’s so desperate to be James’ number one that you get second hand embarrassment from it. She never stops.

You lift your head up to look at James, who’s got a little smirk playing on his lips. “Although, what you have to offer me, my love, will fill me to the brim. I will be too full for dinner when I’m done with you.”

@xxlangdon @sympathyforher @quickiesgirl @langdon-cumslut @unlivingdreams lmk if u wanna be added 🧡

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fear-is-truth · 3 days

Text

THERE’S NOTHING MORE DANGEROUS THAN A HUMILIATED JEALOUS MAN

jealousy headcanons─ kai anderson x gn!reader

WARNINGS: nsfw. mdni!! toxic relationship, degradation, manipulation, mentions of sex

when you're out together, Kai becomes possessive and jealous at the slightest hint of attention you get from others. if someone so much as glances in your direction, he accuses you of leading them on or being flirtatious. Kai also gaslights you to make you feel guilty for the actions of others, then demands you to prove your undying loyalty to him.

sometimes, during cult meetings, he pulls you onto his lap, a blatant display of ownership and control. as you settle onto him, you can feel the bulge of his crotch rub against your ass, the possessiveness in his touch as he pinches your thigh, the aggression in his voice sending a clear message to everyone present that you belong to him.

Kai leaves his mark on you with strategically placed hickeys, a physical manifestation of his possessiveness. his lips trail along your skin, leaving a trail of bruises in the most obvious places, a deliberate reminder to anyone who sees them that you belong to him.

whenever another cult member dares to engage with you for too long or watches you with lingering interest, Kai's body language becomes tense, his jaw clench and nostrils flare with barely concealed rage and jealousy.

his grip tightens around your hips as he presses you against the wall, lips crashing against yours in a sloppy yet possessive kiss. his arms form a cage around you, trapping you effectively. rage and lust war in his eyes as he pants heavily, hot breath tickling your skin as he pulls you closer, hips grinding into yours. “who the fuck does he think he is, laying eyes on you like that?” he growls, voice low and tinged with jealousy as he peppers a trail of angry kisses along your jawline. you try to protest, but he grabs you roughly by the back of your neck and shoves his tongue down your throat, reveling in the little sounds you make

on cult missions, Kai deliberately avoids pairing you up with Winter, fearing any potential romantic connection between the two of you. he’s paranoid about losing control over you and his sister. that’s why you always end up being paired with Harrison or Samuels.

he obsessively monitors your social media activity, scrutinising every post, like, and comment. to maintain further surveillance, he goes as far as creating fake accounts to stalk you online, ensuring he's always aware of your interactions and movements.

during “pinky power”, Kai uses the guise of honesty pry into your past relationships and sexual exploits, gathering information that he can use to his benefit. he makes mental notes on your preferences, all while subtly comparing himself to your past partners.

driven by his competitive nature and jealousy, Kai is fixated on being the best fuck you’ve ever had. every time you two have sex, he strives to outperform your past lovers. he studies your reactions, using his knowledge to give you mind-blowing, earth-shattering orgasms designed to addict you to him completely.

he belittles you all the time, calling you an “useless cumslut” or “incompetent bitch” making you feel inadequate and insecure. with every mistake, he reminds you that you're replaceable, instilling a constant fear of disappointing him and falling short of his expectations.

despite his harsh treatment to you, Kai strategically dangles fleeting moments of affection that keeps you hooked. he holds you in his arms and calls you his “little lamb”, sometimes even allowing you to run your fingers through his hair. in these rare moments, he knows exactly how to keep you wrapped around his finger, making you feel cherished and special. forming an emotional bond that makes it hard for you to leave him.

in the end, Kai is a toxic, controlling, misogynistic edgelord. he’s obsessed with revolution and world domination. he’s the last person you’d want to be in a relationship with. but remember the time he slapped Meadow for “wasting his time”? if you truly are nothing but a worthless, replaceable fucktoy like he claims you to be, then why would he even bother giving you the time of day, let alone dedicating hours to obsess over you?

the answer is simple: he loves you.

a/n: sorry this sucks. literally wrote this in 30 minutes

TAGLIST @acidbrainstorm @evanpetersmybf @alittlesil @kaiandersonsdevotedwife @ellaaaaa44 @newwavesylviaplath @warrenlipkaswife @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @howtobesasha @lissasharp @feefymo @babydoll-lvr @nickrhodeslittledarling @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @nahoyasboyfriend @kai-slut @lak3cityqui3tpills @coentinim @doll3tt33 @taintandviolent @babygorewhore @joshlmbrt @violet1737 @sukirosiac @slutforgarlogan @90sbr1descake @dangeroustaintedflawed @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @k31sley @violet-harmon2011 @luuuuucyscorner @wh1sper-to-a-scream @viscerati + send an ask to be added/removed

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her-favorite · 1 year

Note

hii i <3 ur work!! could you please write a james march fluff pls!! thanks so much babe

thank you so much!! I absolutely love getting requests 🤭

VALENTINES DAY

James Patrick March x F!Ghost!Reader

Summary: I thought why not make it some Valentines Day fluff since it’s coming up soon!

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff

a/n: i am fucking IN LOVE with james, so im so so happy to be getting requests for him 🤭 he’s definitely in my top 3 ahs evan characters

You walked into your and James’ shared suite, taking off your heels and setting down your accessories on the table by the entrance. You called out for your husband, James nowhere to be found.

You heard shuffling in the bathroom, making your way over to see what the noise was. The closer you got, you heard the bathtub running and light illuminating from under the door. You twisted the doorknob, pushing it open, only to freeze in your place.

The space around the top of the bathtub was littered with candles, red rose petals scattered around the floor and some swimming around in the water. You looked up at the figure who had stopped moving in the corner.

“Dearest, you’re back!” James’ raspy voice was loud enough to echo through the room. “Cleopatra had went on and on about the day of Valentine’s and I thought to show you my never ending love for you, my dear.” He walked over to you, resting his hands on your hips. Yours moved up his arms, circling around his neck.

“You didn’t have to do this, James. It’s too much-“ He cut you off with a tsk.

“Nonsense, this day is about you, my love.” He took his hands away and made his way back over to the bath. He started unbuttoning his blazer, rolling it off his shoulders and folding it on the counter. Once he got rid of the rest of his clothing, he held his hand out for you. “Come on, darling, join me.”

You stripped your clothes, letting them fall to the cold floor. You took his hand as he helped you into the tub. You leaned forward to let him sit behind you. He pulled you up on his lap, wrapping his arms around your bare waist. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the way it moved up and down as he breathed.

“You are absolutely striking, dear. The moment you stepped into this hotel in ‘26,” he sighed on delight. “I was absolutely struck with your beauty. You, Mrs. March, are the absolute best thing to happen to me. You are the most ravishing woman to step onto this godawful earth.” His hands moved up to smooth over the water and bubbles on your arms. He pressed kisses to your wet shoulders, leading up to your neck. You sighed in content, letting your head rest back against his shoulder. “Ease yourself, dear, let me take care of you.” He whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to it.

Once James was done washing you off, you dried yourself with a towel as James went out into the suite with just some boxers and a robe that hung off his shoulders.

You tied a red silk robe around your body, tying the knot tight. Your hair was dry enough because most of it wasn’t placed in the water. “Sweetheart, where did you go?” You say loud enough for anyone in the room to hear. You step outside of the bathroom doorway, leaning against the side as you looked around for your husband.

Your eyes stopped once they landed on his broad shoulders, his arm reaching out to pull the lever for the gramophone to work. It played soft, classical music through the tube, filling the empty space in the room.

“Ah, dear,” He turned around and walked over to you. He put his hand out for you to grab and kissed your knuckles when you obliged. You smiled at his politeness, your smile being reciprocated by your husband.

He put one hand on your waist and held the other that was already holding your hand. You put your hand on his shoulder, slowly moving up to cup the side of his neck. Your thumb rubbed back and forth, slowly relaxing the both of you.

James started to rock back and forth at a slow pace, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. You smiled in content, moving your body with his. Your breathing was even, your shoulders were relaxed, your jaw was unclenched. You’ve never felt so relaxed before, until now. James always had an affect on you, but tonight was different. Tonight was about comfort, about ease, to unwind.

“You’re radiant when you’re happy, dearest.” James broke the beautiful silence (with the exception of the hum of the music). “This exact moment reminds me of our first dance, back in ‘27.” He reminisces, closing his eyes as if he was imagining it. Your smile gets wider, watching your husband open his eyes again and make eye contact with you. He has a warm smile before he leans down and presses his lips against yours. It was sweet, loving. It felt like being wrapped in hug, the warmth of it making you feel safe.

When you both pulled away, James took his hands away and moved them to cup your face. “You, darling, are the most enticing woman. As soon as I laid my eyes on you the day of the opening of this dear Hotel, I knew that I had to have you. Everything about you is absolutely captivating and it captures my attention in mere seconds. Everything that you are.. is everything that I could’ve asked for in a lover. You are my goddess and I truly worship the ground that you walk on, my dear.”

The water in your eyes threatened to spill over and once it did, James immediately caught it with his thumb.

“Oh, dearest, do not cry. I didn’t mean to upset you-“ You kissed him, cutting him off. He paused for a second, before quickly returning it. You both had to break apart when you both started smiling widely.

“I love you, James.” You whisper to him, your faces just inches apart.

“I love you more, my dear Y/N.”

#barrysbrock #evan peters #evan peters smut #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x reader #evan peters imagine #evan peters fluff #james patrick march x reader #james patrick march #evan peters x you #tate langdon x reader #kit walker x you #jpm x reader #james march x reader #james patrick march smut #james march smut #kit walker x reader #kyle spencer x reader #kendras stories

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gothiccortez · 2 years

Text

waiting like a lonesome queen

james march x f!reader

summary: you’d always known hazel evers had a bit of a jealous streak when it came to mr. march, but you never thought she’d act on it.

wc: 3.5k

warnings: violence, blood, murder, etc. its jpm so that’s expected.

The evening had been calm—much too calm for your liking, considering what was to come. Tonight, was the first Halloween party you were throwing since the opening of the Cortez, and you’d been restless about it all week.

Despite the suggestions from James to let someone else take care of the planning, you’d wanted to be in control of the situation.

It was also a celebration of your husband’s birthday, after all. That led to a few fitful nights of rest, hoping you’d gotten all the details correct.

“Mrs. Evers?” you glanced at her in the full-length mirror of your bedroom, watching as the woman struggled with an armful of unclean linens. “Would you mind fastening the straps of my dress? I can’t seem to get them.”

You’d been struggling with the straps for the past few minutes as the older woman watched passively. It had taken you weeks to decide upon a Halloween costume for the party, and of course, James had wasted no time in getting the best tailor to make one for you. It was an elaborate outfit; one you certainly couldn’t have put together on your own.

Hazel Evers stared back at you with disdain as she threw the sheets on the floor with a great sigh. Despite the simplicity of the request, it appeared to cause her much grief. “Well… Alright.”

You frowned as she shuffled towards you, clearly put out. The fabric curled into your fists as you gripped it a little tighter, narrowing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your task. I can just wait until James comes back up if—”

She seemed to pick up her pace after that, upon you in an instant. “There’s no need for Mr. March to be concerned with such trivial things,” she huffed, doing the straps up quickly. Your costume was together in moments. “He’s got the party to attend to, after all!”

That brought a laugh out of you as you stared at yourself in the mirror, straightening your attire. “Well, I’m sure he wouldn’t be too bothered. He is my husband, after all.” You met the woman’s eyes through the mirror, almost pitying her sullen expression. “And the party was my idea, wasn’t it? I should be there as well.”

“I’d almost forgotten that!” she said, feigning delight. Although, really, you knew she hadn’t forgotten at all. “I’m sure it will be quite a wonderful affair, what with it being Mr. March’s birthday and all. He’s invited quite the collection of individuals.”

“Well, he’s never been one for meager displays.” You smiled, though it had grown tight. The tension between you had escalated in the moments after mentioning your husband, and the object of Mrs. Evers’ desires, James March.

It hadn’t taken you long to pick up on her affection towards him, despite James’s calculated ignorance. The way she was constantly at his beck and call, bending over backwards to grant his wishes made it all too obvious. The same treatment extended to you on the occasion that James was around. But the moment he stepped out of the room, leaving the two of you on your own, Mrs. Evers did nothing for you without a loud sigh and unconfined lethargy.

You’d never brought it up to James; you’d never felt the need. She was a loyal minion, and though she made it clear your demands irritated her, you figured she’d never do anything to disrespect you or interfere with James’s work. The moment she did so would be the moment she lost him completely.

Just as you were about to begin a new conversation, tired of the glare from the other woman, James approached, his voice drowning out all other sounds in the room.

“Darling, are you almost ready? The guests will be arriving soon.”

Mrs. Evers bristled for one moment before he revealed himself, smoking languidly as he waltzed into the room. His eyes glued on you immediately, tracing every line of your body as he took in the state of your attire.

“Yes, I’m all done here,” you said, turning away from the mirror to face him. “Does it look alright?”

“Alright?” James grinned, closing the distance between you. He cupped your jaw with his free hand, staring at you intensely, the passion already so alive in his eyes. “I have half a mind to cancel the party just so I can have you to myself for the rest of the night.” His face flashed with something dangerous. “But perhaps I’ll allow the rest of Los Angeles one evening to see how utterly beautiful you are, my dear.”

Your face broke out into a wide smile, heart already racing as he met your lips with his own.

“You flatter me too much, James,” you said, but the two of you knew you secretly enjoyed his effortless praise and lingering glances.

“Well, I’d simply hate for you to forget what a marvel you are.”

You laughed, pressing your lips to his cheek with delight.

Everything between you was so easy. You’d almost forgotten that there was another presence in the room. Mrs. Evers let out a small squeak as she bumped into the armoire, the sound reverberating through the space of your bedroom.

There was an immediate shift in James, the serenity of the moment evaporating. He stepped away from you, but left one hand on your waist, keeping you close. The irritation in his eyes should’ve been unnerving to anyone on the receiving end.

“Don’t you have elsewhere to clean at this present moment?” he shouted, a lock of hair coming undone from his outburst. “Out!”

Mrs. Evers just accepted his wrath with indifference, nodding. “Of course, Mr. March. I just thought I’d tidy up your room for you while the guests are here.”

“Well, if I’m not mistaken, for the time being, this room is otherwise occupied!”

“James, it’s alright,” you said, tugging him towards the door. “We should probably be going downstairs, anyway. Leave Mrs. Evers to the sheets.”

He blinked back at you, as if coming back to himself under your soft gaze. “Yes. Right as always, my love.” He took one last glance at his loyal assistant, straightening his hair and attire. “Just finish up what you’ve got to in here. We’ll need you downstairs for the party.”

“Yes, Mr. March.”

You rolled your eyes. She could’ve at least tried to hide her infatuation with your husband from your intelligent observations. “Thank you, Mrs. Evers. You’re such a great help around here.”

Kindness wouldn’t win her over, that you knew. But sometimes, you felt a little sorry for her.

★──────────★─────────★

“How do you stand it?” one of the women, the wife of an esteemed politician, asked you with shock. It was clear she was trying to get a rise from you.

Her blond hair was curled up with pins, red lipstick contrasting her pale features. The excessive makeup was compensation for her bland attire.

You turned, nearly forgetting that you’d been involved in the conversation at all. She’d spent the past twenty minutes telling you about her newborn baby, barely giving you a chance to speak.

“Stand what?” you asked curiously, taking a sip of whatever was in your glass.

She laughed, clearly mocking you, and the high-pitched screeching grated against your ears. “Well, all the women gawking at your husband, of course.”

You turned, following her gaze across the room to a hoard of young women, not much older than you, who were all eyeing James like vultures.

“He’s rich, he’s handsome, and he’s young.” She gave you a once-over, sniffing. “And you’re such an… unassuming thing. I’m sure most women would think it easy to remove you from the picture.”

“Is that so?” you stated absentmindedly, staring at James just a few feet away.

He was chatting with another man animatedly, though when he felt your eyes on him, he turned, meeting your gaze with a wink of his own.

“Well, I can assure you that is an incorrect assessment,” you said to the blonde. “I trust James wholeheartedly.”

She laughed. “Alright, sure. I’d love to have that much faith in my own spouse.” She watched James briefly, studying his movements as if trying to uncover his hidden desires.

It would never happen, that much you knew. James kept his secrets close to his chest.

“The point still stands. In a few years, you won’t be so young. Perhaps he’ll start looking for someone else.”

The statement sent a hot flash of anger throughout you, burning to your very soul. Your youth certainly wasn’t escaping you any time soon.

“Right. Well, if you’ll excuse me.” You nodded to the woman, desperate to get out of her presence. Without another word, you turned, heading over to where James was standing.

When he noticed your approach, he brightened, outstretching his hand to welcome you into the conversation. The other men were not so pleased by a woman intruding on their less than intelligent ramblings, but James was indifferent.

“Ah, gentlemen. You’ve yet to meet the lovely Mrs. March, have you?” James said, placing a hand between your shoulder blades lightly.

You smiled politely and introduced yourself by name, shaking the gentlemen’s hand like a seasoned professional. Within moments, you’d charmed them out of their original contempt. They were quickly engaged in your apt storytelling, hanging onto your every word.

Be it because of your beauty or your intelligence, you didn’t care much. As long as you could grab their attention, any means would suffice.

“What a girl you’ve got there, March.” One of the older men clapped him on the back a little too friendly, laughing like they were old mates. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind sharing?”

The words were starched. A dangerous look flashed through James’s irises. One you recognized all too well. The outcome was never fortunate for those on the other end.

“Fortunately for dear James, I am quite fond of making my own decisions.” You grinned, leaning into him for an added effect. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline, sir.”

That sent the men into a garish laughter which you had anticipated, only serving to irritate the man beside you. You felt the tension rise in James, the straightening of his back. He hid his anger well, but you picked up on it easily.

You were nearly certain that at least one of the men would not make it out of the hotel alive.

Moments passed, and though you tried your best to stay engaged, you grew weary of the frivolous conversation. The night had already felt so long—the week even longer.

You stifled a yawn, though James caught it immediately.

“If you wish to retire early, I don’t mind in the slightest.” He said to you under his breath, glancing at the darkened shadows under your eyes.

You’d worked so hard to make the party happen that you’d almost grown too exhausted to enjoy it.

“It’s alright, James. I should stay down here until the guests leave,” you said, though you were barely able to suppress the second yawn that came out of you.

“Nonsense. Who knows when half of them will be leaving.” James glanced over your shoulder, meeting the eyes of someone across the room. He snapped his fingers idly. “I’ll have Mrs. Evers walk you back upstairs, and then I’ll accompany you shortly.”

“There’s no reason for me to—”

“My dear, you are positively fatigued. I’m only looking out for your best interests.”

You considered arguing, but James was insistent. With a soft exhale, you relented. “Alright. But there really is no need for me to have an escort.”

“There’s no telling what sort of degenerates snuck in here when we weren’t watching.” He’d pulled you away from the other gentleman without you even noticing, giving you an easy escape route.

You smiled lazily. “Some might argue you’re a degenerate yourself.”

“Nonsense, my love. What I do is much more refined. It’s an art.”

You shook your head. Before you could rebuttal, Mrs. Evers was upon you, a ridiculously starry look in her eyes.

“You called, Mr. March?”

“If you could just escort my darling wife back to our room. I’ll be up not a moment later.”

“It’s really not necessary.”

“Of course.” Mrs. Evers bowed her head, and you sighed, expecting nothing less. “Come along, Mrs. March.”

She only called you that when James was around, and it was with a bitter taste on her tongue.

The man seemed satisfied by her response. He began his final rounds across the room, bidding farewell to the guests.

With another yawn, you followed Mrs. Evers to the elevator. It was almost comical that she was leading you through your own home. No one even spared you a second glance as you headed up to the next floor. The accompaniment was more than unnecessary.

“Did you enjoy yourself this evening?” Mrs. Evers asked, standing beside you in the small space of the elevator. You were surprised that she cared at all.

“I did, thank you for asking.” You smiled to yourself, beginning to pull your hair loose from its intricate styling. You were already away from the public eye. “Although, it seems I’ve worn myself out.”

It was then that you noticed that despite her earlier questioning, Hazel wasn’t really listening to you in the slightest. It seemed her mind was preoccupied, whirling around something unrelated to your eventful evening.

“Is everything alright, Mrs. Evers?”

“Hm?” she said, but after a moment, she snapped back into alertness. You’d reached the door of your bedroom. “Oh, yes. I suppose I’m just tired myself.”

“Well, you work so hard,” you said, more to yourself than anything as you unlocked the door. “I should tell James to give you an extended vacation ”

“No!” Mrs. Evers’ exclaimed, and you blinked at her in shock as you let yourself into your room. “It’s alright; I’ve no one to vacation with anyways. I’d just spend it here, wondering why I wasn’t working. The Cortez is like home to me.”

She laughed, though it sounded a bit crazed, like she wasn’t entirely there.

“Alright.” You shrugged, used to her inconsistent behavior. Mrs. Evers followed you into your room, and you let her, expecting her to do another sweep of tidying up. She was obsessed with the cleanliness of every corner—another attempt to impress her beloved Mr. March.

As Mrs. Evers stalked around, you returned to the mirror, paying her no attention. With your hair free from its confinements, you began removing your jewelry, undoing the straps of your shoes. The makeup still felt caked upon you, but you would worry about that last.

“Mrs. Evers? Sorry to ask again, but would you mind—” You cut yourself off as you met her gaze in the mirror, watching as she pointed a revolver at your head.

Your reaction was so swift you’d barely registered your movements. Before you knew what was happening, she had pulled the trigger, firing at the place where you’d been only moments before.

The bullet hit the mirror, shattering the glass, and you screamed. Shards flew from the blast, digging into your arms.

Blood trickled down to your palms, and you panicked as Mrs. Evers aimed to take another shot, her hand shaky.

“Wait, please,” you said, holding up your bleeding arm in defense. You did a mental scan of the room, trying to remember where James had hidden all of his weapons. Surely there was something for you to defend yourself with.

“Why should I?” Mrs. Evers said, though you could sense her resolve was crumbling. Her plan was less than prepared. “This is the perfect place to hide a body, to cover up a murder.”

“You think James won’t know?” you said, desperate, trying not to cry from the pain in your arm. “He’s no fool. He’ll know the moment he returns.” You took another step forward, hopeful that she wasn’t paying attention to your movements. “You think he’ll ever forgive you, ever want to be with you after you murdered his wife?”

Mrs. Evers blinked, eyes watery with irrational tears. Her jaw tightened, though you could see the cogs in her head churning, her spur of the moment decision breaking down.

“I know you’re in love with him, Hazel.”

The gun lowered slightly.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not,” she said simply, clenching her jaw.

“I am. Despite what you may think,” you said carefully, trying to imagine the words that she would want to hear. “I’m sorry that you’re not completely happy here. You deserve someone to love you just as you desire.”

A beat passed. You’d thought you’d won her over.

“It’s simply not right,” she said, her jealousy making itself evident in every soured word, every tear that wet her cheek. “I’d do anything for him. I’d die for him.” She raised the gun again, aiming right between your eyelids. “I’d kill for him.”

You froze. Even with your subtle movements across the room, you hadn’t made it to James’s dresser. And you should’ve known Hazel would anticipate the movement. It was likely she already knew James kept another revolver there.

“Don’t do this—”

Your sentence was cut off, but not by the sound of a bullet firing.

“Mrs. Evers, I’d advise you to put the gun down.”

Over her shoulder, you met the furious wide eyes of James March, his entire body shaking with rage. You hadn’t heard the door unlock, hadn’t even heard him come in. Yet there he was, appearing at just the right moment, your dutiful savior.

You could’ve collapsed, relief flooding through you.

The other woman whirled around, the gun dropping to the ground with a loud thud as she gasped histrionically. “Mr. March,” she exclaimed, staggering forward. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

His eyebrows raised into his hairline, scowl deepening. “No? What else could I possibly deduce from the gun fallen from your hand?”

Mrs. Evers stumbled over her words before crying out, relenting the truth as you fumbled miserably with your wounds.

“I’m doing you a favor,” she pleaded, falling to her knees before him in a prayer. “You don’t see it now, but you will. She’s leeching off of you, Mr. March. I’d be so much better for you. We both know it. Please, please.” She was rambling, her words nonsense as she begged the very devil she’d once assisted. “Forgive me.”

“Forgiveness can be earned.” James said, laughing darkly. Not a hint of amusement was in his voice. “But after you’ve tried to commit a murder in my hotel? Tried to steal the life of my beloved and affronted her very name?” He unsheathed a blade from his cane, the silver of it gleaming in the moonlight. “No, Mrs. Evers. I don’t think I’ll forgive you at all.”

“Mr. March!” she pleaded, gripping at his clothes, though he shook her off in disgust, upon her in a moment. “It was only a momentarily lapse in judgement!”

“A shame,” he said, frowning. “You really are an astonishing laundress.”

You watched with horror as Mrs. Evers accepted her fate, the blood splattering from her throat as James slashed her neck. She fell forward, grasping at the wound as she struggled for a final breath, a pool of red welcoming her home.

James stared at his handiwork, judging the mess for a moment before he was back to you, crouching down to meet you.

You’d fallen to your knees, finally able to catch your breath. Tears fell down your cheeks without you even noticing, the pain and anxiety catching up with you. Never had you expected that Mrs. Evers, whom James had trusted wholeheartedly, would betray you in such a manner.

“Darling? Are you alright? Are you bleeding elsewhere?” James gave you a once-over for any hidden wounds as you stared at the lifeless body of Mrs. Evers, still grappling from shock. When he came away with nothing, he placed his hands against your cheeks, cold palms bringing you back to him.

The worry in his deep brown irises calmed you. It was sometimes difficult for you to rationalize the vicious man that he was with his tender moments towards you.

“Should I fetch a doctor?”

“No, I’m alright I just…” You trailed off, sniffing as you wiped the black-stained tears from your cheeks. “I never expected…”

Your features contorted, the anguish warring with the hatred you now felt for the woman.

“She betrayed us. After everything we did for her.”

“She did,” James said, smearing the makeup on your cheeks as he wiped away your tears.

“James, how will we get the stain out of the carpet now?” You glanced at your husband, distressed. Everything blurred in your mind, a fog, though the man before you was unbothered.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, my dear.” James wiped the blade of his knife with the pressed handkerchief, kissing you between your eyebrows as you gripped the lapels of his suit. “I’ll tear out the entire carpet, if needed. Let’s just dispose of the body without drawing the attention of any lingering guests.”

#james patrick march #jpm #james march #james march x reader #james patrick march x reader #evan peters #ahs #american horror story #ahs hotel #jpm x reader #jpm imagines #james march imagine #james march x you

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coentinim · 2 months

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Fascination

JPM and his morbid fascination with you!

Cw: hints at murder, not rly a fic with plot but I hope it's to y'alls perverse tastes (affectionate) <3

Being the love of a ghost was not as strange as it seemed - he had an almost human touch and a very real allure. Yes, his skin did feel cold, and he did carry a cursed wound on his throat, but it only added to his otherworldly charm. He smelled like wealth and blood, and when he walked and talked, every single twich of his muscles was calculated and precise, unsettlingly so. It was impossible to not desire him.

The fact that he even fell for you was incredible to you. It was summer of 2002 when you visited the hotel to stay for a week, it was decently cheap and incredibly beautiful. What connected you two was that beauty - you were an architecture student, and he gladly taught you the ways of the art deco style. He seemed strange - pale, cold, old-fashioned. You never believed in spirits, but oh, he made you believe. You stayed another week. Then another. He let you stay for free. You felt bad for him, in all honesty - he couldn't see anything outside of his own building, because of his own actions, such irony. Of course, you did your research, to make sure he's not like, a serial killer or something. Well...

You were truly hooked, though. Such cruelty, coldness and swiftness of hands... how could you not be absolutely captivated by him? How could you not forgive, or even grow to like, this little dark secret of his? It's not like you weren't attracted to the danger and violence, after all. Deep in your heart, you maybe even thought... ah, but that would be silly.

He fell just as deeply as you did, and he had no idea why - perhaps when his wife left for good in the 80s, he still longed for her to come back, but after 20 years, he lost all hope. It was time to move on. And you were so sweet, so... easy to corrupt, so easily disturbed by his evil deeds yet so curious about them, like a little scientist. Analytical yet curious like a child. You were also quite the feisty one - dare he ever look at another woman, he would have witnessed his favourite killing methods used, by you. It never happened, but he fantasized plenty - and he knew you did, too, he knew you had it in you. It allured him, his own delusion.

You were his most beloved darling, his cherished little treasure, his sweet precious doll, he could never, ever hurt a beauty like you.

Except when he could.

There were small gestures at first. A hand on your neck during sex. Casual walking around covered in blood or wearing his mask. Making remarks about your heartbeat or complementing on you being still, like a corpse. It was clear he wanted you to live with him, but perhaps he wanted it to be the afterlife?

His sadism got the better of him more and more as time passed. He almost choked you out. He held a knife to your throat and it made him cum quicker than ever. He made you suck off his gun. He made you lick someone's blood off of him. He took you wearing his creepy mask.

How long until he actually decides to make you his, for good?

@nahoyasboyfriend @fear-is-truth @girlyfart @feefymo @slvt4jamesmarch sorry if yall don't wanna be tagged

#im still scared to write a whole fic abt him killing you even though i have imagined it countless times #i don't wanna be accused of having a murder kink (which would be a valid claim. but)#james patrick march #james march #ahs #ahs hotel #american horror story #ahs fanfiction #jpm #evan peters #ahs x reader

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l0serloki · 1 year

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Showtime

JPM x Reader

Summary : You and Liz brainstorm how to spice things up in the bedroom with your husband.. It is a definite success.

CW : SMUT, fem!reader, reader calls james ‘mr.march’, spanking, choking, praise kink, pet names (queen/doll/dear/good girl), biting & marking, rough sex, creampie

A/N : this might not be great but I was rewatching hotel and his cane gave me ideas...

It had been quite a while since you and Liz had a talk. You settled down to gossip with your close friend.

“Y/N, it’s been a while. I thought you would have forgotten about me.” Liz smirked.

“How could I ever! I’ve just been so busy with James and the new.. arrivals. Devil’s Night was such a chore.” You droned on, complaining about how much screaming there was over the course of the night.

“Well that’s to be expected. How are you and James anyways?”

How were you and James? You were fine, splendid actually, but something seemed off. You had thought about it quite a lot this week, coming to the conclusion you needed something to spice up your sex life.

“Good! I just.. I don’t know.” You shrugged and Liz gave you the side eye, setting her book on the counter.

“You don’t know? Darling, are you alright?”

You nodded as she took your hands, giving them a tight squeeze.

“Yes! Don’t worry! I just want to.. spice things up with him. I feel as though he will get bored of me. I want to get something nice for him but I can’t think of what.”

Liz tapped her lips with a pen, her eyes raising as she thought of an idea.

“Y/N, have you ever worn any fancy lingerie for him? Maybe put on a little show?”

Your mind sparked with the idea and you shook your head.

“No! Where would I even get that? That would be perfect.”

Liz waved you away from the kiosk, already getting to planning.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get you a nice set to surprise your dear Mr.March.”

—

Liz had done exactly what she promised, going out and buying quite a lovely lingerie set for you. It framed your body perfectly, only adding to your confidence. You slipped your casual clothes over the garments, making your way down the hall. You knew James would be busy with his plans for next year's event.

Your fingers curled around the doorknob, opening it to meet your husbands face. You jumped at the proximity, not expecting him to be so close.

“My dear! I was just coming to fetch you.” His smooth accent sailed through the air, sending currents down your spine. Your finger trailed at his suit hoping to give him the same reaction.

“Were you? Guess I have good timing then.. Mr.March.” You trailed around his form, hands feeling up the taut muscles. His body shook with excitement from the teases, hands coming to clamp down on your wrists.

“Yes.. It seems you were longing for me as much as I was for you.” His suave smirk made heat pool in your stomach, hands starting to roam your shirt. Your breath quickened as his fingers trailed under the the material. His eyes widened when he pawed at the lace that was hidden.

“My my.. What is it that my dear doll has on?” He frisked away at your shirt, abandoning it on the floor without a care. His chestnut hues wracked in the sight of your ample flesh dawned with the silky lace. His wild smile only added to your carnal desire, making you tremble with pleasure.

“You like it? It’s all for you, Mr.March.”

His deep hum filled the silence.

“I do, dear. This is quite the surprise. Step out of those pants and bend over so I can see the whole thing.” His voice was dark and filled with lust. You knew exactly where this was headed.

You followed instructions, popping your ass out so he could get the full view of your body. You felt as if you were on fire. His eyes followed your every curve, searing it into his memory. His rough hand gripped at his cane, holding back at what he wanted.

“You’ve given me such a good present, my pretty girl. I can’t believe you would hide this from me. I think you deserve a punishment, no?”

You could only moan in response, desperate for any kind of touch he could give you. He seemed to like your response, shoveling you against the desk. Your perky ass was still stuck out for him, waiting for his move. You waited for what felt like forever until a long smack hit. Your breath left your mouth as you shook, your ass cheeks swelling against the wood. The metal tip of his cane brushed at your entrance, prodding at the wet spot on your panties.

“Someone enjoys being spanked with a cane? What a naughty girl..” James laughed, your squirming not going unnoticed. His hand smacked against your sore cheek and you bounced at the contact.

“Be good and take a few more. Then we can get to the fun part.”

You nodded as he continued his assault on your ass, tears welling in your eyes at the pain and pleasure. Your body was practically screaming for him, arousal pooling on your thighs.

His cane hit for the last time and then he was everywhere at once. His greedy hands yanked at your ruined panties, revealing your poor pussy.

“God. I need you!” You moaned out as his fingers teased across your thighs, coming dangerously close to your entrance. His thumb pressed against your slick, making a mess of you. He toyed your clit, rubbing at it a few times before puling away. You groaned at the loss of contact, turning to see why he had stopped. James fumbled with his belt, hands jittering with energy. He gave you a grin, lips licking at the arousal on his finger,

“My queen, you’ve been so obedient tonight.. I shall give you what you wish.”

James’ cock rubbed against your folds, slowly pushing in. It felt as if everything else faded as he bottomed out, his calloused hands coming to grip at your neck. His thrusts gained pace as your moans got louder, alerting anyone near his room of what you were up to.

He was animalistic. Lips biting and marking at your skin, smacks blown across any flesh he could reach. His other hand choked you out, watching from the side as your eyes grew larger.

You felt your air leaving as his pace went erratic, the string inside you so close to snapping.

“I-I’m gonna cum. So close, baby.” You strangled out.

James snarled, his hands rough enough to leave marks for the next few days. His cock twitched inside of you, egging you on.

“Cum. Cum for me, darling.” He goaded and you did as told, eyes rolling back at the euphoria he gave. His ruts finally stopped and thick ribbons of white filled you.

You spun around and snorted at your husbands tired face. He leaned in to kiss the top of your nose, hands pulling you into an embrace.

“That was a night to remember, dear. We should do this more often.”

#james march #james patrick march #james march smut #james patrick march smut #james march x reader #james march imagine #james patrick march imagine #james patrick march x reader #james march x you #ahs hotel #ahs #american horror story #ahs imagine #evan peters #evan peters smut #evan peters imagine #jpm x reader #jpm imagines #jpm x reader smut

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marchswifey · 7 months

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James Patrick March’s NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Cuddles. He may be rough and nasty but he wants cuddles after sex. Of course, he was so close to you just a mere few minutes ago, still he finds himself wanting to be closer.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

His favorite part of you would be your thighs, he loves squeezing them while eating you out and feeling them wrapping around his head. He also love kissing your inner thighs teasing you.

On himself he likes his shoulders, he feels strong and absolutely loves lifting your legs up on them while fucking you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

When James comes he really wants to get inside you so he can see how you react to feeling his seed inside you.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He secretly wants you to dominate him but he would never ask for it because of his big pride.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

A lot experienced, of course.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

He loves it when you ride him. The way he gets to look at you as you absolutely destroy him. He likes a lot also doggy style and missionary.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

No. He’s serious and focused on your both pleasure during sex.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Natural. Not overwhelming but it's there.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Incredibly romantic, or at least he tries to be. He is soft and kind to you to show you how much he loves you and takes care of you.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Not often but when you’re not in the hotel and he’s feeling horny he would do something for himself.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

A LOT.

Bondage, wax play, impact play, teasing, handcuffs, ball gags, pulling hair, sensory deprivation, pet names, being called "master" or "daddy". And definitely knife play.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Mostly his suite, but also in one of his special rooms around the hotel (Imagine him fucking you in the room where he burns peoples and when he just had burned one minutes before. Nasty)

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

James loves seeing you in lingeries. Every type or fabric, especially lace.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's basically gonna do anything, but he would hate to cause you too much pain since you’re his beloved, so he won’t leave any too lasting injuries on your body.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes to give and receive in the same way.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the situation, if he’s really turned on he’s very rough. But he can be also slow in attempt to tease you or make the moment last longer.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn't against it, he'll do it. It's just not his favorite. He likes to take his time and he wants to be buried deep for as long as he can.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

HE HIMSELF IS THE RISK

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He can last very long since he’s a ghost, you would stop just because you’re tired but he could go on and on without stopping.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He owns a few…

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He loves teasing you and seeing you desperate to be fucked.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

HE’S LOUD doesn't even try to hide his moans and grunts.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

He loves when you call him "master" or "sir", it makes him harder than a rock and makes him fuck you harder.

Also he would be extremely protective of you. He threatened every single ghost of the Cortez, if anyone tries to touch or hurt you he knows how to make them suffer even if they’re already dead.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A solid 8 inches, thick.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Before meeting you sex wasn’t that important to him, his only pleasure was murdering. But then he became hornier than a teenager.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He doesn’t sleep, you always fall alseep first.

#american horror story #evan peters #ahs fanfic #fanfic #headcanon #smut #james patrick march smut #evan peters imagine #james patrick march x you #james patrick march #ahs hotel #american horror story hotel #jpm #james patrick march x reader #jpm smut #jpm x reader #ahs #y/n

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yandereunsolved · 2 months

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Clip A Hummingbird's Wings - ,, yandere James's s/o tries to escape

cw(s): yandere themes, semi-graphic gore, suggestive themes

☾ He hadn't killed you yet, but he will. You two had such a good thing going. He stalked you through the hotel and fell madly in love with you. You stayed unaware and gave him perfect views into your body and soul. You just had to go and do this. You just had to go and try to escape. Now he's dragging your body into a torture chamber and strapping you onto a metal table.

☾ He is still madly in love with you. He's getting drunk off of those terrified faces you're making and how your features contort into unending petrification. He may even be a little excited that such a delicate bird like you tried to fly from their cage. It gives him a chance to try some more of his extreme methods to make you submissive to his words and will.

☾ You won't be in peace for many weeks to come. The times you are visited by James are filled with 'reprogramming' as he has coined it. This is a mix of torture and praise. He keeps you on high alert constantly. You don't know whether he is going to choose to take you on the table once again or ruthlessly dig his favorite knives into your skin, so you know how he felt when you tried to leave him.

☾ Naturally, he first broke your legs. It is for the 'reprogramming'. You need to be dependent on him. You need to be nothing without him. Don't worry. He won't allow them to heal incorrectly. He won't allow them to heal at all. He threatens you with cutting them off and then killing you. It would be so romantic. You wouldn't be able to act like the Countess. You'd have to depend on him to carry you everywhere. ♡

☾ He starves you of food and his attention. He makes you eat from his hands. He makes you eat from the utensil he is holding. Oh no, sweetheart. You have not earned the right to eat at the table with him again. You will be eating on the metal table. Perhaps if he is feeling generous he will unstrap you and allow you to sit up. If you spit at him or refuse, you'll only make it infinity worse for yourself. No more food for you. The Countess is now delivering your food. As much as she detests James, she hates it more that he's found someone he truly loves. So she manages to be even worse than he is.

☾ He breaks your mind by allowing the addiction demon to be your constant companion. He soaks in your tortured screams as his hand fiddles with his belt. As much as he'd love to indulge in his carnal needs... he'd rather just use the lovely companion he has in the torture chamber. It'll give you a reprieve from the demon. He gets to hear you beg for him and his body. It's like falling in love with you all over again.

☾ He injects you with many different drugs. He paints you with many scars from his most beloved tools. It felt like years before your pain finally ceased. In reality, it could have been just days. James came in to the torture chamber and whispered 'I love you, darling' into your ear. He cut your neck wide open so you would have a matching neck wound. As the life leaves your eyes he presses kisses all over your face. He gropes your body and moans. 'We will be forever together. There is no escape now.'

☾ You awake in his bed with a new pair of sleepware on. You look so pretty and cute. You touch your neck and the slit is there. James can't get enough of it. You tried to escape and now he has you forever.

☾ James taxedermied your dead body. He thinks it's the greatest thing he could do for you. He keeps it next to the 10 Commandment jars. Your body even gets its own glass case. No disgusting chute for you. His love deserves so much more.

☾ He doesn't allow you out of his sight. If you stray too far from his side he summons the addiction demon to terrorize you until you come back. He makes sure that you are so utterly pathetic and lost without his constant attention and care.

☾ He's still very paranoid that you will find someway to escape. He makes sure every guest that enters the hotel doesn't have any affinity for the dark arts. He makes sure no holy people come in either. The last thing he needs is your soul being saved. He needs you here for all eternity with him. If you try and beg for help with other guests he only drags you back. He pulls you into his embrace and gently tsks you. He treats you almost like a bratty, disobedient child. He secretly loves when you're bratty. He loves an excuse to punish you.

☾ You are under his control at all times. Yet, you also have such a control on him. The mere absence of your presence causes him to go on a murderous frenzy. In the lack of your absence he seeks out the Countess for some hate-filled companionship. He has canceled his monthly dinners with the Countess. Something new arises. A sort of punishment from your previous escape that has now made James addicted. You are all in the dining room but the Countess has to watch as he toys with you, makes out with you, plays with the pretty little throat slit he gave you. He doesn't allow her to say anything to you. He just makes her watch. He makes her watch so that he is able to get revenge. As I said, this was originally about 'reprogramming you'... now it is just a greater payback, and an erotic payback at that.

☾ You are able to use that small amount of control over him to get anything you'd like. Your freedom? No. Space or privacy? No. The greatest luxuries and lavish goods one could wish for? Yes. Behave and he'll offer the world to your hands. You may even be able to talk with a guest or two— if he's allowed to stay by your side in his invisible ghost mode— and he gets to brutally slaughter them after.

☾ It'll take over a year for you to gain any semblance of his trust back. After that, you have a better chance of exploiting him and possibly escaping through exorcism or attachment to someone's presence. You will get more freedoms and responsibilities within the hotel. Does that mean he's gonna leave you alone? Not even a little. He may just leave for a few minutes to commit another massacre of guests.

☾ You may have lost your chance to ever escape at after 2026. The hotel is now a historical landmark. They will never tear it down. The place is ever so popular. People go just for the possibility of getting murdered. And oh? James is even more possessive of you as the hotel gains popularity. These swine have come to see his beautiful god(dess)!? They have come just to see if they are able to help you escape? 'Darling, you cannot leave anywhere without me. It's not safe. They want to take you from me. I will not allow it! There will be no arguments on this subject matter! Understood?'

☾ He does not allow any of the other ghosts around you. You are completely isolated except for him. If one or two of them try to pity you they are tortured and scared out of spending time with you.

☾ He contemplates binding your souls together. It's a risky ritual. It would require a talented witch or warlock. It is the process in which you and your soul mate conjoin your souls through time and space. Through every reincarnation you both will find each other. Even if you do not remember you will be tied together. It is a manipulation of fate considering you already had a soul bound to you. James was infuriated when he found that out. He is more likely to do it even more now. He can't have your soul escape, and you find whoever it is that your soul is bound to. You belong to him! Him only!

☾ He treats everyday with you like it is your last. He constantly showers you in praise and love. He allows makes you watch his killings. He is just so utterly obsessed with your presence. He makes it so you would never want to leave. Right? Darling? Dearest? Love of my life? God(dess) of everything in my life?

☾ If somehow all of this didn't manage to move your heart and you still wanted to escape, he would be devastated. He would resort to begging on his hands and knees and sobbing. It would be quite out of character for him. Can't you just see that's what you do to him?

☾ He will do anything and everything. He will make you his forever. He will go through with the soul binding ritual. He will kiss away all of your attempts at anger. He will soothe your need to lash out. He will practically be floating in the heavens. You are his, forever. You are his even after death. In the next lifetime he will have you. He will have you in the lifetime after that as well. It makes his dead body flush. His desire for you just continuously grows even though he has you for all life and eternity.

☾ You'll never truly escape his presence. You'll never truly leave this hotel. Even if it crumbles and the world caves in— he'll pass on with your lips locked together, his hand in yours.

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marchsfreakshow · 24 days

Text

Comforting A Murder [James Patrick March]

Hurt/Comfort // Smut. (I guess?)

Well you did it. You finally murdered someone, but right in the middle of a mess James wants to clean up. You attempt to comfort eachother...

18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: dub-con, PnV, quick fuck?, James being James.

Brb inspiring this off of ep.9 and 10. Had no ideas anymore so I figured basing this off an episode or two would help me write this.

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Oh, your pretty red dress. Ruined by the darkness of fresh blood. Arms and legs decorated by splashes of someone's else liquid soul. A beautiful decorated purple gun, turned black, dripping. Eyes widened; scared, confused, joy? Your mind racing with thoughts of what others would think.

Others? Each ghost more insane than the last? They didn't care. Most, happy by your calling. Liz, your best friend, daring you to talk to someone. "Talking to James will do good my dear. I understand he is in love with the countess still, but you know he takes interest in you as well."

"Sure.." A shaky word left your brain as you stood straight, gripping onto the used gun like it was a dying breath. "But... Jesus Liz, he's so... intimidating."

"Only if you don't talk to him." She stated. You took a deep breath and a step back, staring at the now decomposing lady that you laid bare. Flesh, body and soul ripped down the middle after a shot in the head. "A wonderful killing. Just like you." Liz was never too interested in the killing around the Cortez, but the way you killed... invigorating.

" 'suppose." You undressed as quickly as you killed, picking up a purple dress. The same shape, size and glimmer as the one you had murdered in. Your body still dripping in red.

"go like that. Go and find him right now."

"like this? No. Liz no! I can't. I have to wash myself. And my gun."

She shook her head and took a small drag of her cigarette. "No. Go find him. Now."

After a long silence, you took a deep and long breath, debating whether or not you should find the prolific killer. So you agreed. Walking out of the room and leaving the open torso to bleed dry, Liz watched, maybe silently judging you. You could never tell. The still image ran in your head as you walked. The heart slowing down, and the stomach just sat there, begging to be opened so the acid could dissolve everything else.

"...James." You saw him standing there, looking bewildered. He had been slapped, in front of an open hallway. An open hallway? Why on earth...? But you whispered his name as you took a step closer, transferring your gun from one hand to the other. "James.." you cleared your throat, looking down to the ground, feeling insecure. The killer looked at you, and smiled, taking his hand off his face.

"Ah, love. You look...ravishing, and a gun? My." He started, his smirk coming back to him. Nervous and worried, a blush appeared, and your hands were shaky again. The gun was still coloured darkly, leaving little trails of blood behind you. If there was any more blood on you, you would look like Carrie, an icon to you and your deranged but silent mind. "May I ask, your kill you have come back from?"

"a lady. Insulted my dress. Shot her head, then...ripped her torso. Neck to crotch." You admitted, looking everywhere but in his eyes. Another step towards you. He took your hand and looked lovingly at the gun.

"I'm so proud my dear." A teacher, smiling widely at his student, blood smearing itself over both your hands. You stared at his hands. Such precious jewels, covered in a dark thick liquid, a gun being shared between two. A small gulp and another deep breath. "What are you nervous about?" He asked as you looked up to the open hallway, a looming darkness. It scared you, but you never showed it. You wanted to impress James, being scared would annoy him.

Oh just how wrong you were. James could tell you were scared about what could have been lurking in the hallway. What a wonderful thing to use to his advantage. "This hallway is empty my darling. Nothing exists here." He simply stated. Innocently looking back up to him and seeming like you didn't understand anything he was saying. Like you didn't believe him. "Go on. Walk in. You have your dear gun, use it if need to." Absolutely not.

But a cold hand on your back, pushing you in. It left a faint handprint on you, and James noticed, letting out a small chuckle. It rang through the looming hallway, making you shake more. Holding the gun in front of you, worriedly looking around. Then a shot. You shot something. You think. Maybe? But you turned and ran. Ran into James' chest, even if he didn't wrap his arms around you as you secretly hoped he would. "You found something?"

"I think...I think so?" Your voice was hurried, and resting your head on his chest.

"Come dear. Let's take you away from this." He placed a dead hand on the small of your back, still bloody. The blood on you was decently dried now, feeling unable to wash it off. Eyes always straight and front as you both walked. Meeting anyone's eyes would increase your guilt about the murder. Such a beautiful but meaningless kill in James' mind. Killing someone for insulting your pretty red dress? Insanity.

James' room appeared before you, and you were led into it. Cold but comforting. A room you had wanted to go into. Forever. Everything interested you. Mindlessly, you started to wander around. Leaving gentle touches over every surface. The interest you two had with each other, coming to light. Your wonder and innocence, lit up when you walked around. Going in circles, your hand loosening around the firearm you held so dear. A beautiful thing, all based on your personality. James picked it up as you stepped in another circle, staring out of the window.

Ah, the open world. Nothing you missed. Bullied for the way you worked, and how you carried yourself. You left the daylight alone and stayed in the Cortez. Liz and Iris helping you with anything you need from the open world. "Dear. You are lost again." James murmured, standing behind you. A breath? Maybe? By the crook of your neck. "Ah yes, the life outside of this hotel. You should not worry about it, my dear. You are here now. You are here forever, murdering just because?"

Words that left him, and made you shiver. "But, I want the life again."

"I understand darling, but you must understand that this hotel can offer you more. Offer you something you could not find outside." A hand, gripping the front of your neck, thick fingers finding a vein and pressing on it, hard. "The people here are dangerous, wonderful. Full of deprived attraction." A hitch in your breath as the pressure got harder and harder. The stopping of your breath and its effects on James were pressed against your back. Was he really getting hard at this? Really? Okay...

"James..." All you did was lean against him, your neck open to him again, so many possibilities, and so many things he could do to you. A low groan, maybe a snarl leaving him. His free hand exploring your side, gripping at the dress fabric and feeling the dried blood on you. Every touch felt odd like you shouldn't be enjoying it so much. But your love for James, and the way your need for him manifested as killing for him. Innocents who did nothing to you but make a snarky comment, a little joke. Why was he so irresistible to you? A killer who died nearly 100 years ago, who loves murder, fine absthine, and his students.

Wandering hands trailing down your back, pulling down the zipper. The purple fabric fell swiftly off you, pooling around your flats and the blood-covered legs of yours. All this talk and touch of murder, blood, opening someone up, it was nothing but erotica turned real to him. Such a need for someone he did not know too well. Who was he to deny such a gift? Deny the chance to make someone feel something other than rage and upset.

Such moveable skin in front of him, the way he touched and practically groped you, making you feel mindless already. Your head, silently thrown back onto James' shoulder, feeling every touch he gave. The way he gripped onto your hips, such a need and desire in him. You practically threw yourself onto the bed, but sat on your knees politely. Even when a feeling of warmth spread through you, nerves were still there and you never wanted to upset your dear so. Shy, doe eyes watching a ghost undress. A quick coyote, readying himself to catch the doe it craved.

Silence in your voices, but catching breaths, underwear ripped off of you. You were being pulled up from your knees and pushed down onto all fours. He fucked like you were going away that night. Barely any time to catch your breath as he kept going.

Faster.

Harder.

Fucking you like the world was ending. Your moans; loud, unfiltered, they could be heard anywhere in the Cortez. His were reserved but animalistic in nature, never giving you a break. You screamed his name, as he yelled yours. Bruises were appearing on your neck, hips and thighs.

When had the dam been broken? You wondered as you cleaned yourself up, starting to sit up. Looking over to your side, James was half-dressed already. "I will admit my darling, that blood drying itself on you truly is enchanting." He nonchalantly mentioned, walking over to where you sat. A little hum in response, looking to the side where James was not. The ghost pulled your face towards him and left a kiss on your wanting lips. Pushing yourself forward to try and kiss him again, only to be denied.

Only to be denied as he picked up that purple gun you adored.

Only to be denied as he reloaded it.

Only to be denied as he aimed it at your worrying face.

BANG.

Only to be denied one last breath, one that you could've kissed him again with.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @nahoyasboyfriend @slutforgarlogan @slvt4jamesmarch @tatelangdonsweater @feefymo @fear-is-truth

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