#james march

[redroses07]

real shit

[saintlucretia]

guys, are we ready?

i want him biblically. till neighbours call the police.

who said that.

pls let me know if you want to be tagged!!

[vizjpmdose]

୨ৎ ──── jpm's entry in the 5 love languages. ────

⭑.ᐟ warnings : possessiveness, mention of murder

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ a/n: : first time posting stuffs like this and this is a long one! | these are his greenflag versions (this has been in my draft for an eternity) English is not my first language so I apologize if you spot any grammatical errors that I'm not aware of.

JPM x wife fem!reader.

PHYSICAL TOUCH

for him, physical touch is his way to remind ownership but also genuine devotion to his lover.

for example, if someone is trying to flirt with you he'd suddenly just appear behind you and suddenly pulling you close to him by grabbing your waist softly in front of that person.

"darling, who's he?" he spoke with a forced smile, glancing at you and the man while he gives your waist a soft squeeze as he shows ownership.

can be a PDA king

with showing devotion, physical touch is his way to remind you of how important you are to him

keeping a hand on the small of your back while walking around in the hotel

loves to trace your facial features/body

imagine having a talk with him while just relaxing in bed, he listens to whatever you're saying while he traces a part of your body (waist, arm, legs) or facial features (jawline, lips, cheekbone)

he could be doing it while making eye contact with you while you're speaking or his eyes could be at your body part/facial feature that he's tracing while you speak.

it gives you extreme butterflies specially that he's humming in response from time to time while busy tracing your body with his fingers.

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION:

this man has a very wide vocabulary, he's a master with his words.

he's the best in wooing using his words that he's sure of being very effective on you.

he actually doesn't excel in comforting with words:(

But worry not! He's good in encouraging you with words.

"you, my dear is the best. You don't have to stress about it just to prove it to me, because I knew ever since the day I saw you that you're going to be the perfect lady of the Cortez."

Very resourceful with his words, very witty.

you'd receive appreciation phrases that are very high standard coded

FLIRTS VERY GENTLEMANLY!

"Such a sight for sore eyes. Surely, my favorite sight for tonight." 

he loves the reaction he gets from you with when he flirts with you using fancy idioms. 

He actually could write poem/poetries and it would be all about you.

loves to brag about you, he brags about you to other people even though you're not around. He loves to publicly speak about you and your relationship with him.

QUALITY TIME:

this man is a sucker for attention. 

he prefers spending quality time with you by having a conversation during a fancy dinner or having a conversation while drinking or smoking together.

would literally host a dinner nightly if you'd agree.

Loves to play cards with you every night before going to sleep 

There's a lot of secrets in the Cortez that no one knows but him. If you're a curious one, he'd find joy to walk you around the Cortez, telling you facts about every area that you both visit. 

"This feels like a museum date, right darling?" 

In a conversation, he's always the talker but loves to be a listener when it comes to you so that he can spend more time with you while having a conversation.

He loves taking you to the grand empty ballroom of the Cortez for slow and elegant dances with him when you both are feeling elegantly romantic. He would put on a vintage jazz or classical music record.

If you're an adventurous type just like him, he'd be so so happy to go on a killing spree with you. He’d admire that about you, pushing you to be bolder, more daring, much like he did in his own life. Times like these would be his core memories with you.

ACT OF SERVICE:

This man is the number 1 real gentleman and that's for you only. 

Yes, let's say he uses his gentleman side to lure his victims in but that gentleman side is fake. He'd only be a real gentleman when it's for you. 

He opens doors for you and pulls out chairs for you 

He makes sure he attends your needs before you can even ask. 

He's highly observant/highly perceptive, he does everything you need or want before you even voice them.

"I will give perfection to such a perfect person like you, my love." What can I say? This man is such a simp.

When you have any problems, he'd do anything to help you with it or he'll be the one to fix it for you.

He's always mindful for your physical comfort, he'd always make sure that his staffs are giving you what you want and what you need if he's not around, and whatever that makes you feel pampered.

He gets mad at his staffs when you have any complains or when he observes that you're not feeling comfortable enough.

With protecting you from harm in the Cortez, He would use his power and influence to keep you safe from the dangers.

If one of the ghosts in the Cortez dares to disrespect you or interact with you in a way that you or he doesn't approve of.. James would swiftly and ruthlessly handle the situation.

GIFT GIVING:

No. 1 sugar daddy material

When you get upset and doesn't know how to comfort you, he'd shower you with expensive jewelries and stuffs that he knows that you like.

Everything he gifts you will be expensive, this man values good quality all of the time

He sends Liz to the outside world to buy these gifts he'll give to you.

"If I were just allowed to leave the hotel I wouldn't hesitate to go out alone to buy you these lavish things myself, a high quality man like me knows a lot about high quality things that deserves to be in my queen's grasp." 

Expect gifts on random days because anytime he'd think of an item that he thinks you would like, he'd action on getting it immediately.

He lives for your reactions, praises, and compliments when he surprises you with gifts. 

[deadgirl-violet]

I love how he adores her and he goes crazy with the smallest thing she does

[temporarywelcome]

Jezebel - James Patrick March

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage with James March, but he's already completely smitten with his new wife, despite the fact he knows she plans on killing him. Hey, it's kind of hot.

WARNINGS: some swearing, some violence, death, sexual implications but no smut

A/N: they're so Gomez and Morticia. They match each other's freak. Yes, I used the vows from the Corpse Bride.

___________

James March was a very interesting man.

The way he carried himself as if he had no care in the world was enticing. He radiated confidence and grace, and was, well, an overall attractive man. 

And he was to be her husband. A fiance she never even met till tonight. 

It was 1923, a time where this “dating” thing was becoming popular, yet here the two of them were, meeting three weeks before their planned wedding. March was slowly becoming wealthier and wealthier, but his mother demanded he be wed, with a woman to take care of his estate while he did his business. Someone to care for him when she would eventually meet her own unfortunate demise. 

And so his mother found Y/N L/N, a pure beauty that many men oggled over obsessively. She was young, single, and his mother just could sense the compatibility when she saw Y/N’s lovely picture. Her son would love this girl. 

Except there was more to Y/N than meets the eye. 

Sitting at the dinner table, James eyed her in curiosity. “Did you come here from a funeral, darling?” he asked cheekily, his usual charming grin etched onto his face.

She looked up from her plate, raising a perfectly penciled in brow, “Why yes, actually,” 

He scratched the back of his neck, not expecting that answer. He had just meant to make a light-hearted joke about her attire: the long, ruffled black dress and hat to match in color, adorned with black and burgundy feathers. To accompany the clothing were sleek black gloves, lace along the wrist area. “Oh dear, my apologies. I hope I have not offended you.”

“No no,” she waved a hand dismissively, “It was not for anyone I knew,”

“Oh?” Now he was intrigued, taking a sip of his wine, the same color of her plump lips, “Then why would you attend such an event?”

“Death excites me,” she replied, and he was sure he had fallen in love right then and there, “As well as I find grief interesting to no end,”

“Interesting?” the man asked, smitten beyond compare, “What is so interesting about grief, my dear?”

Her lips curled into a devious smile, “How everyone grieves differently. Some cry, others laugh, some don’t give a damn. What I find the most hilarious is people establishing relationships. At a funeral of all places!”

“Horrid indeed isn’t it?” he asked with a chuckle. 

“It is! A splendid horror!” Y/N nodded in agreement. 

March watched as she expertly cracked open a crab leg, impressed in her abilities to do so without juices exploding everywhere. “You’re a stunning woman, you know?”

She looked at him from her meal and that devious smirk appeared once again, “And you’re a very handsome man, Mr. March,”

“Tell me, dearest, how old are you? Have you ever wed before?”

It looked like she had to think about it, which March thought nothing of at the time, already completely smitten. “Twenty-eight,” she replied, “And yes, I have,” 

“You have? And what had become of that marriage?”

“All three were tragedies,” she replied, bringing a piece of crab to her mouth with a fork. Three?! “I’ve sadly been widowed three times. A black widow, you might call me.” 

Three marriages that ended in the death of her spouse? March doubted this was any bit coincidental. “What an unfortunate event! On all three accounts! How did these poor souls die?” 

“Ah, all different ways. My first had a heart attack. The second, I still think to be my true love, committed suicide. Not because of me, of course, as he explained why in his letter. The third, he… he was tragically murdered one night,” 

Oh how intriguing of a woman she was! March asked, “Murdered! In what way?” 

“His throat was slashed,” she answered, “And he was drained of his blood.” Y/N then took a sip of her wine, not at all bothered by the fact. 

James March smirked, placing his chin on his palm as he stared at her. Oh, how infatuated he was. He was sure those death were not as she said they were. He was sure she had something to do with it. 

And he was sure as hell that if he married her, he would be her next target.

Oh, what a lovely woman he was so willing to marry!

________

The next three weeks went by in a blur. 

Y/N would wake up to endless gifts being left at her door: trinkets, jewels, flowers, heels, silk gloves, anything a woman could dream of. He would call her on the telephone at five p.m. every day just before dinner, and for those three Fridays he would take her on lavish dinners and dates. 

He went above and beyond for the woman he knew surely wanted to kill him. 

It was now the morning of the wedding, and Y/N’s telephone rang. She curiously went to it, grabbing the device and bringing it to her ear. Grabbing the other part in her unoccupied hand, she spoke into it: “Hello?”

“Hello, my dearest, I am thrilled to hear your beautiful voice this morning. It reminds me of sweet honey: smooth and-”

“James?” she interrupted him, “Why are you calling this early?”

James laughed lightly, “Because today is our wedding day, my love. I cannot call you at five p.m. because at five p.m. you will be in my welcoming arms! Are you excited?”

“I’m trembling in desire, darling,” she replied, “I must attend to my wedding preparations,”

“You will look absolutely ravishing, my sweet. Oh, how I adore you. I will leave you to your duties, anxiously waiting to wed my beautiful bride.” 

“I will see you very soon, my handsome king,” Y/N said, “Goodbye,” She hung up the two parts of the telephone and set it back down, preparing herself for her big day.

Her fourth big day. 

The stylists got to work, putting her hair in rollers, painting her nails a shiny jet black, carefully applying her dramatic makeup. She went for walks all done out, she wasn’t going to be caught slacking on her on wedding.

Fourth wedding. 

That James March knew of.

“How long do you plan on keeping this one for?” her loyal servant, Ms. Barnes, asked, blowing on the nail polish adorning Y/N’s fingernails. “He’s a handsome one.” 

Y/N thought for a moment, “I’m unsure. He is actually… sweet.” 

“And rich,” said another servant, Ms. Michaels, busying herself with Y/N’s hair. 

“So was her second,” Ms. Barnes pointed out, “And he lasted three months.”

“His riches are not of importance to me,” Y/N told her servants, “I do not need a man’s riches when I have my own,”

“How true, Ms. L/N,” Ms. Barned nodded in agreement, “There is no point in having men if it isn’t for one’s own entertainment.”

_________

This was marked the best day of James Patrick March’s short life. 

He stood at the alter adjusting his bow tie with the biggest grin a man could have as he waited for his beautiful bride to grace the audience with her presence. Practically the entirety of Chicago came to the celebration of their love, rows upon rows of guests laid out before him as he anxiously waited.

And then she came down the aisle, the orchestra expertly playing the familiar tune of Here Comes the Bride as she took each step. She didn’t just want an organ player, she wanted the whole deal. The organ, violins, a beautiful symphony as she had her big moment. And of course, James was quick to make the arrangement for his beloved. 

She was an absolute beauty, in a large dress that took up most of the aisle’s width. Black and lacey, with tiered ruffles, off the shoulder to show off her soft shoulders. Her veil was also black lace, partially covering her face, the back half dozens of feet long. His fiance was a maximalist, and he made sure she was about to get an equally maximalist wedding. 

The wedding went as planned. When it was James’ turn to do his vows, he raised his hand as previously instructed during the practice, “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” he raised his chalice, “Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine,” he poured the red wine into the glass. Red as her lips. Her signature color. He placed down the chalice, grabbing a lighter for the candle that was in front of him, “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness,” Finally, he grabbed her ring, the blood ruby shining in the light of the candle, “With this ring, I ask you to be mine,” he slid it onto her slender finger before pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles. 

Y/N perfectly recited the vows as well, slipping the ring onto his finger. They then took their glasses and took a sip of the sweet wine, before finally, sharing a kiss to seal the deal. James carefully moved her veil, revealing the face of the seductress that had his heart. His arms went around her as he leaned in, kissing her with all of the passion in him.

They were now wed. 

The wedding activities soon began, the newly weds beginning their first dance. James brought an arm around her waist, pulling her close as they began to dance, “You look absolutely stunning, darling, you have impeccable taste of fashion,”

“Hm,” she replied with a smirk, “I think I have upset quite a few with the color of my dress,”

“To hell with them. All of them, jealous of your immense beauty,” said March, pressing a kiss to her jaw, “I just might be the luckiest man in this room. Such a dazzling woman I have in my embrace,” with a smirk, he whispered in her ear, “I could just die from excitement,” 

_________

The next few months went by in a blur.

James March made sure to treat Y/N like a queen, spoiling her beyond compare. He knew she wanted to kill him, but did not say a word. She knew about his special new hobby. She didn’t say anything either. 

Once the fifth month passed, Ms. Barnes, who was diligently doing Y/N’s hair, said: “I think we have ourselve’s a record. Five months, the longest you have kept a husband.” 

She hummed in response, lighting a cigarette, “Correct. The longest. I have not become bored of him just yet.”

“Well, he’s not a boring man, Mrs. March,” Ms. Michaels mused, “He treats you like gold,”

“That he does,” Y/N said in agreement, a satisfied look on her face, “I don’t think any of my ex-husbands have treated me this well. It is quite… refreshing,”

“You don’t have to kill him, you know?” Ms. Barnes told her, “You’re allowed to find happiness,” 

“But, Ms. Barnes, that is what gives me happiness,” she shrugged, taking a long puff of her cig, “There is just something so wonderful about…. Watching the life… leave their eyes,” she smiled sweetly, sighing in joy at the thought, “However, I quite like James alive. Perhaps I would need a new fix.” 

Over the past few years (124, to be exact), Y/N had a cycle. She would tease herself, almost edge herself by only drinking the blood of animals to quench her thirsts, marry a man, and once she couldn’t handle it anymore, kill him. Usually in some fun, intricate way. Then she would feast on his blood until he was completely dry.

It was a fun game that has kept her satisfied for decades already.

Until now.

The thought of killing James March didn’t sound right to her anymore.

“We have a ball today,” she told her servants, “I’m sure I will find someone of use for the night,” 

James had vowed to make two days of October the biggest spectacle of Chicago. October 30th, his birthday, which he named Devil’s Night, because he was dramatic like that. The day that came after was Y/N’s birthday, October 31st, Halloween, which very much fit her. 

So not only was Devil’s Night a huge celebration, but so was Halloween, the night of James March’s beloved. 

There was a soft knock on the door, and James entered the room, “My love! You look ravishing,” he practically pushed through the two servants, placing his hands on her shoulders, placing a few kisses along her neck, “Absoutely stunning, dear,” he then pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“James! You’ll mess up my makeup!”

“No matter, just reapply it. I’ll always buy you more,” James replied smugly, kissing her cheek again, “My beautiful wife. Happy birthday again. I feel my present for you would look lovely with your dress,” He glanced at Ms. Barnes and Ms. Michaels, “Shoo shoo,” he waved them off.

“Behave,” Y/N deadpanned. 

“My apologies, dearest,” he said, though he obviously didn’t give a damn, “I just can’t wait to get you alone,” he nipped at her neck. Noticing the warning look in her eyes, he laughed, pulling away, “Fine fine, evil woman. Close your eyes while I give you your gift!”

Y/N smirked lightly, closing her eyes as her husband took out her gift. Obviously a necklace, feeling him place it along her neck, the large jewels cascading down her chest. He fastened the clasp, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck, “Open your eyes, darling,” 

Her eyes opened, and she smiled in pleasant surprise. Of course, the necklace was adorned in huge diamonds, he was never cheap when it came to his beloved. “Oh, James, it’s wonderful!” she said, meeting his gaze through the mirror, “Thank you,”

“Ah, anything for you, my dear,” James smirked, squeezing her shoulders from behind, “My beautiful wife.” he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear fondly, “We could always be late to the party,” he said suggestively.

“Late? To my own party? I think not,” Y/N stood up, laughing at the pout on her husband’s lips, “Don’t fret, dear, I will be all yours when the night ends.” she promised, arms going around his neck as she stared into his dark, dark eyes, “But for now you must wait,” she stuck out her tongue, teasingly grazing his earlobe.

“You naughty girl,” James said in excitement, gripping her hips, ‘You Jezebel you,” 

She giggled seductively, “All for you, my dear,” 

Oh, she did not want to kill him. Not at all. 

And so they left the room and made way to the grand spiral staircase. The couple stopped at the top, James releasing her hand, “Stay here, darling, let me introduce the star of the night!” he made the descent down each step until he stood at the bottom gathering the attention of the guests scattered all throughout their grand home. He introduced his wife, holding out a hand to her as she made her way down the steps.

Each step was careful and precise (like usual, her dress was huge), radiating confidence as she greeted her guests. Y/N took her husband’s hand, allowing him to bring her close.

The night festivities went as planned, Y/N certainly enjoying the effort her husband took into making sure her birthday went perfectly. He always went above and beyond for her, always seeking her approval. He was completely devoted.

After a while, Y/N purposely got separated from him in search of someone. A victim. If she wasn’t going to kill her husband, she had to kill someone else. She was tired of teasing herself.

It didn’t take her long to find some stupid man, some lawyer named George. He was quick to get handsy with her, so she led him off to one of the many guest rooms. He was desperately ripping at her dress, which she loosened up with an eye roll. 

God she wasn’t in the mood for this. 

She pinned him down to the bed, glaring at him darkly, tongue darting out to lick her lips. He was annoying. He didn’t have that sexy drawl like her husband. Those dark but comforting brown eyes. Those hands fit perfectly on her hips.

It wouldn’t matter to her if this man died. 

And with a smirk, she raised a hand, each finger covered by a claw-like ornament, a gift from her loving husband, of course. He said it “fit her style”.

He was so right.

She let her index finger run along his chest, then slowly his throat, leaving goosebumps along the trembling skin, until with a swift motion, she swiped her finger, swiped the claw, and his throat was slit. Buying her face into his neck, she lapped up the sweet flavor of his blood. 

Finally, she needed this.

As she hungrily drank, the door opened. 

“Oh, dearest, whatever are you doing?”

Y/N shot up, head snapping in the direction of James March. Her husband. However, he didn’t seem terrified. Or pissed. 

He simply laughed, arms going around her from behind, “My love is either a lunatic or a vampire. Or both.” he gripped the ribbons of her dress, tightening her corset to fix it, “I must say… It’s rather sexy.”

And so began a new dynamic.

James took it upon himself to do the dirty work. His wife should never get those soft hands dirty. 

And so he did the killing, and she would watch, with a look of approval on her face. He would then take her hand and help her out of her chair and towards the body, admiring how she looked as she drank the man dry. 

“That was supposed to be me, wasn't it?” He asked during one of their little “sessions”. “You wanted to drain me of my blood.”

She wiped her face with the back of her hand and she glanced up at him, “possibly.”

“It's alright, my dear, I take no offense,” he laughed, grabbing a cloth to clean off his knife. “I must have earned the right to live, huh?”

She smirked up at him, “not many would do this for their wives,”

And their dynamics continued. He killed, she ate, they had hot sex after.

And it worked well. 

James ended up building a grand hotel, all of Chicago raving over it. The Hotel Cortez. He originally wanted to name it after Y/N, his beloved, but she herself told him that was a stupid idea. 

They spent a lot of time there, whether it was to aid guests, host events, pass time, or even pick off a few victims. 

After a while, they even began to discuss the possibility of children. James was dead set on two: a boy (named James March JR, of course), and a girl (named after you, of course).

Y/N made it clear she found that to be extremely boring. Just naming the children after themselves? How cliche.

Pretty much every night after basically rearranging her organs, he would lay with her and yap and yap and yap about how it's important for them to continue their legacies, and then he yaps some more about if the baby inherits her thirst for blood if it would be immortal and all these different questions.

They were planning for the future, until disaster struck.

A peaceful day in the hotel, James having his lovely wife in his embrace as he spoke to patrons. She went off on her own duties after a while, until meeting with James again in one of the rooms.

Something was wrong.

Once he saw her, he rushed to her and gave her a rough kiss, cupping her cheeks with such urgency, “My love….” He whispered, “someone ratted me out. Someone knew.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she whispered, hands going to his wrists as she looked up at him, “You mean…?”

“Yes, our little hobby,” March brought her against his chest, an arm around her waist, a hand raking through her hair, “Oh how I hope it wasn’t you who told. Don’t even tell me, I would be devastated,” he sighed, resting his chin on the top of her head. 

“No, James,” she replied in a quiet tone, “I did not tell anyone. You know I love you.” She pulled away slightly to look up at him, “If I wanted you gone, you know I would have killed you myself.”

A soft smile reached her husband's lips as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Always the loyal wife. I adore you, my dear.” There was a hint of genuine sadness in his tone as he held her close. “Will you be the one to finish me?”

Y/N shook her head right away, “No!” she pulled away completely, “No, I won't. You've been the only husband I've loved. I can't…. I can't kill you.”

With another sad smile, he held her again, “I understand, dearest. Just… stay with me while I do it? Please?”

This couldn't be happening. It really couldn't.

But she nodded, face buried in his chest, “Yes… I'll stay with you,”

“Thank you, my love,” he sighed, kissing the top of her head. He held her for a moment before pulling away and taking her hand, sitting down. There was a knife on the table and he shakily grabbed it. “This won't be the first throat I slash,” he tried to joke, but it came out flat. James squeezed her hand as he brought the knife to his throat, but his wife speedily stopped him.

“I'll…. I'll do it,” she gulped out, trembling hand taking the knife from him and placing it back on the table.

“Are you sure? You don't have to, my love, I can do it myself.”

“No, no, I-I'll do it,” she repeated. Y/N seated herself on her lover's lap, arms going around his neck as she captured his lips in a desperate kiss. She could feel tears forming as she realized this would be their last kiss.

Her last kiss with the first husband she's ever loved. 

Maybe this was her punishment for all of her terrible deeds. The universe taking away the one man she ever truly loved. 

As they continued to kiss, she brought her clawed index finger to his throat, fingers trembling the closer she got. She pulled away from the kiss, “R-Ready?”

Despite everything, he smiled. “I'm ready, darling.” he pressed his forehead against hers, “I will always be with you,” 

And with that, she slashed his throat.

Y/N let out a soft cry watching the life quickly leave his eyes, the one man she wanted to stay alive. “Oh, James…” she cupped his cheeks, kissing his lifeless lips. “I love you I love you I love you,”

She could hear loud footsteps coming up the stairs, and she knew it was time to go. She grabbed the knife, bringing it to his bloodied neck before placing it into her lover's hand.

And with that, she climbed out the window.

“I will always be with you,” the words hung in her mind as she went down the fire escape.

She didn't know he was going to keep his word, even in death. 

---------

Yall i love him. inbox is open btw

[prettybean]

WHAT THEY WOULD SAY DURING SEX (AHS +18 Evan Peters main characters only)

I wanna do one just for Kai, someone stop me before it’s too late

tw: degrading (only w Tate and Kai), mention of blood, nsfw

Tate Langdon

"On my lap, now"

"Fuck, I wanna make you sit on my face so bad"

"Have you ever tried with a ghost? You nasty bitch"

“I bet your boyfriend doesen't fuck you like this"

“I love you, l've imagined this moment for ages

Kit Walker

"You did it so well, such a good girl/boy"

"Touch yourself in front of me, baby"

"Take it deeper, you're sucking it so good"

"You're pretty with my cum all over your face, aren't you?"

"TI'll only put the tip, that's what you deserve"

Kyle Spencer - before

"Tell me if it hurts"

"I've missed you, I was tired to jerking off alone"

"Look at you, you're out of breath baby"

"fuck, you're insatiable"

Kyle spencer - after

"Your mouth... there"

"Teach me, please"

*very loud wimpers*

Jimmy Darling

"You called me a monster, huh? That's what a monster can do with your body”

"I know you love my hands"

"You taste so good, I could eat you up for hours"

"Let me see how much you love riding my cock"

"Shh it's okay, l've got you. You like when I touch you like this"

James March

"All that blood looks good on you"

"If you can still walk we're not finished, you know the rules"

"I had no idea you were so addicted to my cock, you're so fucking wet already"

"Beg and I'll think about it"

"Yeah, get on yor knees darling, you look so pretty down here"

Austin Sommers

"I haven't even started yet stop making all those noises"

"What did I just said? Don't you dare to touch yourself"

"Take my fingers"

"Eyes on me while I take your blood"

"Use your words"

Kai Anderson

"Rubbing that little body on me like you want to impale yourself on my dick, so pathetic"

"Do you want to tell the other members what we do here? How your Divine Ruler makes his little slut cum over and over again?”

"No condom, you'll take my bare cock inside"

"Hold my pinky and tell me what makes you cum the most"

"Don't make me slap your face again, fuck you even liked that, what a devote little lamb"

[taintandviolent]

Thrill of the Rush ; James March x reader

summary: Reader is a murderer, coquettish and demure in nature. She brings a man to the Hotel Cortez, and it ends how it always ends for them. The only difference, is that James March is watching her and is enamoured.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 2.6k! | serial killer!reader, graphic descriptions of murder, violence, blood and gore, descriptions of smut, cunnilingus, arousal, kissing/making out.

a/n: requested by anonymous and inspired by Lana Del Rey's Serial Killer song! hopefully this isn't too clunky, or boring in anyway! proofread very briefly, if you see any mistakes, no you didn't.

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don't have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you'd like to be notified of future fics!

Elvis’s voice drifted from your speaker. The hotel room was cool, a stark contrast to the hot LA summer outside. The room itself was outdated in decor and architecture, something that you found charming – you’d chosen it specifically for its gorgeous, untouched art deco style. Stephen protested, saying it was rundown and dingy. You shushed him with a single manicured finger and led him inside, heading straight for the hotel desk. 

He was a man. A stupid, hungry man who could only think with one head at a time. So, it didn’t take much for you to get up to the hotel room, and onto the bed. You’d let the strap of your dress fall off your creamy soft shoulder, coaxing him closer to you.

He nuzzled his lips into your breast, tugging softly at the skin. He muttered something into your skin, something grotesque, and you didn’t hear him. You were too busy listening to the thud of your own heartbeat – your own excited little heartbeat. You reached into your purse, which had been laying next to you, to retrieve the knife. It was a beautiful thing; pink pearlescent inlay on the handle, and a long, shimmery silver blade. 

Raising it high above his head, your elegant fingers gripped the rosy hilt of your knife, and using all your strength, stabbed it into the side of the man's neck. The blade sliced through his skin like butter, giving no resistance. There was nothing like the sensation of killing – it never failed in making your eyes glisten, a cruel fire burning bright within them. Your chest fluttered with excited little breaths, rushing out over your pouting, pink lips in tiny gusts. The thrill, the rush, it was unlike anything you’d ever experienced – even sex. No man had ever made you feel the way killing him did. You twisted the knife slightly. 

In response, he gurgled; a delightful sound that had you giggling. You had angled the knife just right, plunging it deep before yanking it out quickly. The blood spurted out in a warm geyser over your hand, trailing down your wrist in crimson ribbons. His hand flew to his neck, pitifully trying to stop the flowing river. You slapped his hand away softly. 

"Pl-please..." He murmured, as his body started to droop away from yours. 

You bent over, kissing the man on the forehead. As darling as you had been before, maybe even more so then. “Oh, baby…” you whispered, cloyingly sweet and soft like a summer day. He knew that he was going to die, and the begging was futile. Still, he persisted, wet and coughing between each plea. 

You pushed him off of your breast, and more blood squirted out, the arteries pumping it out with each beat of his heart. James' dark pupils widened, watching as you worked. He hadn’t made himself known yet, and wouldn’t until you were finished. Nothing should interrupt this delicious display of cruelty. 

“Tell me you love me,” you whispered. “Tell me I’m the sweetest girl you’ve ever seen.” He didn’t. He didn’t say anything else… and he never would again. 

“Hmph.” Frustrated, you got off the bed, and smoothed your hands over your hips; the satin of your slip dress was warm and soft and provided no friction. 

"Seems you've got yourself between a rock and hard place, my dear." 

You spun around. In front of you stood a dashing man, dressed to the nines and resting some of his weight on a cane. He was handsome, but possessed a coldness that drew you in. He wasn't like the others.

"How did you get in here?!" 

"The door was..." He turned to look at it, casually. "Open." 

"No..." You shook your head, soft curls bouncing. Your tone was coy, knowing. "No, it wasn't." 

"Ah," he said, tightening his lips into a sly smile. Had his heart been beating, it would’ve quickened at your darling little response. You were quick; a trait that he enjoyed and very rarely saw.

"He deserved it, you know." You looked at the man on the bed with a disproving sourness in your gaze. His body had slumped over the side of the mattress, blood streamed from the gash in his neck to his hairline, staining it red. 

"I don't doubt that." He inhaled, stepping further into your room. "However... The problem remains of what to do with him. I presume you’ve yet to figure that out." His voice had your knees weak, turning the tendons to jell-o every time he spoke. It was so deep and croony, like molasses if it had a voice. 

"No," you trilled. "No, but you seem like you do." 

"I do," he started. There you went with your quick-witted confidence again. "You see, I have built this hotel to satisfy... my every need and whim, whatever they may be. I have a way to dispose of him for you." 

Your hand lifted to your shoulder, your finger winding a lock of hair around it. You pursed your lips, as though you were considering his offer. The truth was, you’d already made up your mind. He was dangerous, unafraid, but interested in you. A refreshing change from the rest of the men that you courted and ultimately killed. Besides, he was right. You had a corpse in the room and were unsure what to do with it, besides leaving it and requesting another room, claiming something trivial like the hot water not working. 

"Why are you doing this?" You ask, running your tongue along the bottom of your teeth, before coming to rest in the corner of your mouth. "You don't even know me." 

"I don't, my little buttercup, this is fact, but what I do know of you, I crave." 

Your knees wobbled. Somehow, he’d captivated you. You were never taken by men; they were useless, dumb playthings that you disposed of as soon as you got bored with them. You were never the one that was wrapped around a finger, it was always the other way around. But something… something about this man and the sick, nasty glimmer in his pitch-black eyes had you shivering.

“James March,” he declared proudly, before offering his hand. You placed your own atop his palm, and he leaned down, pressing his lips softly against your knuckles. Your lips tensed, withholding a whimper. 

All at once, he closed in the distance between the two of you. Exactly what you wanted him to do, and without asking. You gasped, looking up into his soulless gaze. “Hold me,” you whispered. “Please.” 

With a single nod, he enclosed you in a frighteningly firm grasp. You weren’t going anywhere – not that you wanted to. 

“I don’t know what you do… or what you’ve done…” you whispered, feeling light in his arms. He held you like old movie stars held their beloved; arms wrapped passionately around the waist, holding you tight at the hip. James waited, on bated breath, for you to finish your sentence. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes, and pressed your soft lips against his. They were cool, and immediately surrendered to yours, parting to exhale into your mouth. As his breath filled your lungs, you succumbed to every feeling he was pulling from you; your legs quivered and pressed together tightly. Your core tightened, and your cunt clenched with arousal. Slick leaked into the silk of your underwear, staining the fabric with your submissiveness.

His head tilted, allowing him to go deeper inside your mouth. His tongue slipped along yours, twirling and exploring the soft, slippery flesh of your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, James walked you backwards, guiding you towards the bed. His shin knocked into the corpse’s head, which lolled lifelessly.

You were at his mercy, and gasping for air, broke the kiss to look down at your feet. Stephen’s eyes were glazed over now, void of life. He had paled, the crimson stark against his bloodless skin. A puddle had settled beneath his head, seeping into the carpet. You broke away from James and bent down, shoving all your weight down on Stephen's shoulders. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in, so he rolled over easily, towards the edge of the bed, which freed up most of the bed for whatever came next. 

You immediately snuggled yourself back into James’ arms, nestling against his chest. “There… all better.” 

He hmm’ed at the crown of your head, holding you tight. His hips ground against yours, a stiffness pressing into your hip bone. A reminder – he was a man. But not akin to the other men… he was different. You looked up, gazing into his eyes. 

James guided you backwards onto the bed, your ass hitting the mattress with a squeak of protest from the old springs. Placing one hand on either side of your hips, he kissed you again, urging you back further yet. He was intoxicating. Everything he did had you quivering like a lamb in the jaws of a wolf – and you wanted more of it. More of everything. You wanted him. 

“I love you just a little too much,” you cooed, brushing your lips over his neck. The satin of his ascot brushed against your chin and you longed to feel it tied around your wrists. Your hand brushed along his bulge, feeling the taut fabric that covered it. As the feelings bubbled up inside of you, effervescent like champagne, you couldn’t stand it. No man should ever make you feel the way he did and with a small gasp of air, you reached for your knife again. James caught you fast, holding your wrist in an iron grip. 

“I’m afraid not, my dear. You won’t get that pleasure with me.” 

“Pleasure?” You asked, doe-eyed, feigning innocence yet again. 

“Perhaps another pleasure,” he cooed against your lips, his moustache tickling the flesh under your nose. You were divine… a shining beacon of temptation amongst a sea of poor fools. It had been decades since a woman captivated him the way you did. 

James sank to his knees, slowly, as you watched, holding your breath. His hands gathered your satin slip over your knees, and pushed it over your hips, exposing your silken underwear. The wet spot had grown considerably, and James pressed his lips against the damp fabric. The sensation was electric, sending chills up your spine in a wave of unadulterated pleasure. He kissed her again, pressing harder. He could almost taste her through the silk. You whimpered, and let your head drop between your shoulders. He brushed his lips across your mound again, and you got even wetter. For a brief moment, he disappeared and the reaction was painfully visceral.

“Don’t…. Don’t stop…” you said to the ceiling, out of breath and trembling. You could hardly get yourself upright to look at him. 

“I’ve no intention of doing so, my dear. None whatsoever.” Carefully, as though unwrapping a delicate gift, James pulled your underwear from your hips, tugging them delicately down your thighs. Murder always got him worked up, but this was an entirely different arousal.

“Let me see her…” he said, low His hands were on your thighs, resting carefully atop of them. 

Using your manicured fingers, you reached forward to spread your cunt to him, eagerly, obediently. She glistened in the low-lighting of the room and you heard him inhale. He leaned closer to her and began kitten-licking between your folds, sending a shockwave through your core. She clenched uncontrollably, tightening. James paused to observe, pleased with the reaction. He’d done so little, and you were already a mess. Placing his hands behind your knees, he scooted you further towards him.

Your cunt ached with everything he did; from the gentle touches to the way that his moustache tickled the soft skin of your inner thigh. You weren’t used to your heart beating this quickly outside of killing someone. He was making you feel things you’d long since forgotten. 

To say that you never experienced sexual pleasure would be a lie; you did. Usually, covered in blood and panting, after a kill, your body and senses would be so wound up that you’d finger yourself, use a vibrator, something to get yourself off. But this orgasm, you knew, would be different. And much quicker. 

With a breath, he flattened his tongue against your cunt, lapping at it hungrily. Your muscles all trembled, the first hint of an orgasm clawing at your insides. And just before you did, he pulled away. Cruelly. Mercilessly. As though he knew that he had you under his spell…. Oh, you’d kill him if he’d only let you. 

James slipped two fingers inside your waiting, wet cunt. You let out a desperate yelp, rocking your hips back and forth to meet his fingers. Electricity coursed through your core, your body quivering again. His fingers drilled into you, curling upwards with each thrust, hitting your sensitive spot. The pressure increased, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter around itself. You were close. 

“Speak to me,” he ordered. “Use your voice.” 

You swallowed, wetting your throat. It was frightfully hard to form words, your mind was too clouded with arousal and ecstasy. “C-can’t…. Feels…. So good….” 

James leaned forward again, the tip of his tongue drilling into your sensitive clit, twirling at it. After a moment, he encircled your clit with his lips, sucking softly. You were sweet, wet and singing for him. James hummed into your pussy, satisfied. With his fingers still thrusting inside you, the overstimulation was too much. Your coil snapped, and your hands flew to his hair, making tight fists in the greased locks. 

As you orgasmed, you called his name, chanting it over and over again like a prayer. He was there, between your legs, tugging you over the edge with whispered praises against your throbbing cunt. An attentive lover, James didn’t stop fucking you – or licking at you – until the final pulse subsided. 

“Now that I’ve made you mine,” he said, straightening up. “Let’s deal with your little hobby, my dear.” 

Made you his? You thought, chewing on the corner of your lip, as your eyes bored into his. How dare he – made you his. Despite feeling like you’d been bamboozled, you knew it was true. He’d made you his, and barred you from loving any other man again.

A knock at the door. You looked down at Stephen – you’d almost forgotten he was there. James got to his feet as the door opened, and you noticed that his cock had tented in his trousers, pulling against the fabric, begging for release. You gasped, looking at the woman as she entered. She was pushing a silver room service cart, though it was empty. 

“Fret not my dear, it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.” 

You furrowed your brows; his erection or a corpse in a hotel room? You weren’t sure which. Effortlessly, James hoisted Stephen’s expired body up onto the cart, waving his hand dismissively towards the woman, who hmm’d curtly, and made her way back towards the door. 

“Follow me,” he said, jovially as he headed towards the open door. He began whistling a tune, as though wheeling a body out into the hallway was the most normal, routine thing he’d done all day. Perhaps it was. You heaved a breath, and got up off the bed, pulling your underwear back up. 

“James, James, wait!” 

He paused. 

“Aren’t you going to… well…” 

His eyes followed yours to his groin, which was still stiff. You sucked on your bottom lip, looking up at him with come-hither eyes. Curiosity had gotten the best of you. Despite having just come, you wanted more, and you desperately wanted to know what the weight of his cock felt like in your hands.  

“Oh.” He smiled, pleased. With a slow nod, he reached forward to cup your chin with his large hands. “I’ll get mine.” 

[double-features]

idk man i woke up one day and decided "this is going to be the dude i think about every day" and ran with it

[redroses07]

said what i said

[saintlucretia]

the feeling when your fictional crush is so wild you can't even defend them:

[marchsfreakshow]

Don't mind me just thinking about this.

[18+!]

His hand gently rests on your head, occasionally gripping whenever you hit a good spot. That earns you a low groan that definitely came from the back of his throat.

He can't help himself, you're just so pretty on your knees and those thigh highs of yours, keeping your legs warm. Not like you needed the warmth anywhere else. Heat was practically radiating from his legs, and it only spurred you on.

"Fuck.." a small murmur left his lips as your tongue brushed itself on the underside of his cock. Mutters of swears and praise left his lips with every single feeling. You were just so good at this, how could he ever want you to stop? "You're doing so well..." He whined a bit, momentarily pushing your head down to deep throat him.

Feeling the back of your throat so easily sent him over the edge. Needy and desperate thrusts up into your mouth, an orgasm crashing over him like waves crashing into one another in the sea. The way he practically whimpered your name had your eyes rolling back.

You swallowed what you could, cleaned up best you were able to and sat on your knees between his legs. Gods...you were so pretty like that. Panting, red rimmed eyes and your face feeling as hot as anything. "There...so good for me.." He praised breathlessly, his cock still twitching from his release a few moments earlier. He gave you a pet on the head like you were a good puppy or something.

Well if you had a tail, it would certainly be wagging.

[americanwh0rerstory]

KINKTOBER DAY FOUR

kinky murder - james march

Alive!reader x james patrick march

SUMMARY: when y/n becomes infatuated with james and asks to be with him forever, he is delighted to share his ‘hobby’ with them

CONTENT WARNING: MURDER. KNIFE PLAY. BLOOD. NECROPHILIA. CUTTING.

A/N: i’d like to begin this by saying that james has canonly committed necrophilia in case anyone has forgotten that fact. i’m not adding it in just to make my fic seem edgy or anything, it is canon. it has happened. i will not shy away from that fact

EXTREME AND NSFW CONTENT BELOW, HEED THE WARNINGS AND READ AT OWN RISK

“such a beauty you are, even when you seem so fearful of me. might i remind you that you asked for this, dearest” james coos as he circles you, a knife grasped in his dominant hand. his eyes roamed your clothed body, taking in your tense stature and the way you seemed so scared of something you so badly wanted to happen

he drags his knife down your spine, cutting your clothes like they were made of butter and watching the fabric fall for the floor around you. goosebumps instantly came over you, but it was unaware whether the sudden exposure to the cold or whether your fear had caused it.

“such perfection hidden under so many layers, not even the most beautiful of women could hold a candle to the beauty you display” james murmurs whilst his eyes rake over you, reaching a hand out and gently brushing it down the column of your neck.

he dragged the knife from the base of your spine around your hips, and up your navel towards your breasts; the cool steel of his knife glided along your skin, making you shudder from the strangely enjoyable sensation.

he stood behind you as he traced the knife up your torso, letting the point rest where your heart would lie. “your heart sounds akin to a hummingbird, but i cant say that it isn’t enjoyable or id simply be lying” he muttered softly into your ear, circling the tip of his knife around one of your nipples

he made a quick swipe of his knife which made a horizontal cut on the edge of your areola, the wound instantly filling with blood. james watched with twisted satisfaction, he dragged his thumb across the wound and spread the blood over your nipples. the sight of your blood sent a throbbing ache to his hardening cock, only urging him to continue

“it’s exhilarating, is it not? seeing your own blood drip down your body like paint to a canvas. why, it’s exactly like that: you are my canvas, and i am the artist. though i cant make you any more of a beauty than you already are”

he made a few more slashes across both of your breasts before setting his knife down and squeezing your breasts between his hands, smearing your blood all over your skin and his own hands. he then proceeded to lean his head down and lick across your boobs to taste the blood. “you taste like fine wine, my love” he says with his face buried into your tit, kissing and sucking your flesh to use pleasure to distract you from the stinging sensations of the cuts

you felt his knife slide against your skin once more, however this time it was at your thigh. the cold steel left a sharp stinging sensation against you. you felt the blood pool at the surface, before the wound filled and the blood began to trickle down in a thick stream. the viscous crimson left a trail down your thigh, sticky to the touch as it coagulated.

his head lifted from your boob, and he crashed his lips onto yours. he greedily kissed you like a starved man, as if trying to take all he could get from you. the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue invaded your senses, but it also distracted you from the blood oozing out of you in multiple spots

“lay down, darling, on the bed” james instructed gently but with an air of dominance shrouding him. whilst you layed back onto the bed, he began to remove his clothes. his suit dropped to the floor, and he put on his radium mask. looking down at your sprawled out, bloodied, and naked body made his cock twitch, eager to bury himself inside of you

he crawled on top of you, looking down at you whilst he lined his member up with your hole. “don’t worry dearest, the pain is only temporary. then we have all eternity to enjoy one another” james said in a surprisingly soothing tone, his brahmin accent smoother than velvet and bringing you a small sense of comfort in what would be your final moments

he slowly pushed into you, giving you a few seconds to adjust before beginning to thrust inside of you. you felt his tip nudge against your cervix with every thrust, the sensation eliciting sweet moans from deep within you and leaving you seeing stars.

“ready, darling?” he grunts as he fucked you missionary, looking at you through the lens of the radium mask. after you gave a small nod of confirmation, he moved one of his hands to your throat. Grasping your neck tightly, he blocked all oxygen flow which instantly made your chest tighten.

you felt your vision begin to go blurry, little black dots appearing in your peripheral whilst you looked up at james. he released your throat though, a sick smirk beginning to line his face.

he didn’t say anything, and grabbed his knife. he plunged it down into your chest, straight into your heart. your eyes widened in pain, but the euphoric feeling of his thrusts were distracting you from the feeling. your blood was practically bursting out your chest, soaking the pristine white sheets with the thick carmine liquid

“see you soon,” james murmured before planting a gentle kiss to your lips, not caring that you were gasping your final breaths. the last sensation you ever felt was james pounding your pussy like he’d never get too again.

he kissed you until your inevitable death, carefully manoeuvring your heavy and limp legs so they were over his shoulders. he couldn’t resist taking advantage of the situation, he had a little while until rigor-mortis began to set in. and he’d use that time as ‘best’ as he can

he kept thrusting into your body, knowing you’d return as a ghost soon and that it would all be okay. he could feel your eyes on him, but it didn’t stop him. you were still warm, you still felt alive to him; the glazed over look in your eyes and your unmoving bloodied chest confirmed this fact to him.

he couldn’t resist burying his face between your bloodied boobs for a final time as he emptied himself inside of you, painting your insides with his seed. he twitched inside you as he softened, panting with exhaustion as he lay between your boobs

“having fun?” you called out, now as a ghost leaning against the wall behind him. you couldn’t help but smirk with amusement at how excited james seemed to be.

“more than you can imagine, dearest” he panted as he lifted his head to look up at you, an expression of euphoria on his face

A/N: i’ve never written gore before. i’m so sorry if this is beyond fucked up, but if you read this far despite my warnings then it’s your fault. for those sick fucks (positive way) of the world that enjoyed it, i’m glad you did <3

[vizjpmdose]

Raw. Next question.

[janus-cadet]

Haven't draw him in a while, and I might have gone a little overboard. Ah, but he still lives absolutely rent free in my head.

Little meow meow who's done nothing wrong. Ever.

And if he did, he looked good doing it.

[hauntedviolet]

Thinking about when I did this like two years ago in class.

[temporarywelcome]

Devil's Night, 1946 - James Patrick March

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Many years have passed since you and March have split up, meeting again in the Hotel Cortez when you need him to do a simple task he's been procrastinating on for years... distractions happen

CW: smut, porn with WAY too much plot, fingering, angry sex, p in v, possessive!james, dom!james (kinda), sub!reader (kinda), a slap to the cooter

A/N: they're both vampires it's mentioned like twice it really doesn't matter lmao. Pretend women have some more rights in 1946. I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS ON HIS BDAY BUT ALAS... life.

________

The Hotel Cortez hasn’t changed in the slightest since the last time she saw it.

It still was bustling with guests and patrons, with loud chatter at the bar and silent gossiping in the sitting area. There was a couple seated in one of the love seats, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears.

The sight made Y/N grimace. 

It reminded her of how things used to be. How things were between Y/N and James Patrick March, the owner of the establishment. They were practically glued at the hip, her painted black nails always gazing his skin, his hand always firmly on her lower back. Always together. In love.

That was long in the past. 

Striding towards the front desk, Y/N eyed the little receptionist up and down, “Hello, is Mr. March in tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the receptionist, her name tag reading Laura, replied. “He’s currently in a meeting in his office. How may I help you?”

“I wish to see him. Now,” 

Laura raised a brow, awkwardly clearing her throat, “He’s in his meeting, ma’am, he might take some time. If you’re in a rush, you can write him a message?”

Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance, lips curling into a sneer, “Tell him to wrap it up. His wife would like to speak to him,”

____

Within minutes, Laura was ushering her into the office of James Patrick March. 

Like Y/N expected, as soon as James was aware of her presence, he had kicked everyone out of his office, eager to see her. He was seated at his desk, a cigar between two long fingers, wearing his usual white button down, black suspenders, dress pants, and shoes combo. To accompany it was his carefully gelled hair. Y/N remembered doing it for him every morning, a little bonding experience the two of you used to have. 

“It’s been a long time, my dear,” he finally said after a moment, his usual James March smirk appearing on his annoyingly handsome face, “I was beginning to miss you,”

“Hello, James,” Y/N replied, making no move to step closer to him, “It has been a very long time,”

“You haven’t aged a bit since the last time I saw you, dearest,” he complimented, rising up from his seat, “Just as ravishing as ever,”

“How can I age, James? You took that from me,” Y/N laughed bitterly. She adjusted her large black fur coat, eyeing the room. It was practically the same as before, “It’s been twenty years, James. Possibly time to renovate,”

“You’ve always been so kind, darling,” he strode towards her, taking her hand, “Now how may I assist you?” he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to her knuckles. 

“Take a guess,” she snatched her hand back, slipping a hand into her designer purse and pulling out a neatly piled stack of papers. She walked to his desk, and being, well, a man, James’ eyes travelled to her ass, admiring the way her tight black dess esentuated her curves. He was snapped out of his thoughts when she slammed the papers down ont the desk. “Sign the papers,”

“Excuse me?” 

She looked at him over her shoulder, “Sign the damn papers,”

“What papers? I believe I don’t know what you speak of, my love,” he placed his finished cigar in an ash tray.

“Cut the act, James,” Y/N hissed, taking a pen from his desk. She turned to face him, holding it up, “It’s been twenty years. What’s the point of doing this any more?”

“Doing what?”

“James,” she clenched her fists, “It’s been twenty years! I want a fucking divorce!”

A laugh left him, a dark chuckle, “That’s what this is about? The silly divorce? And for a second I thought you missed me,” he opened up a cabinet and grabbed a bottle of scotch and two glasses, “You came to me on this day just to harrass me? On such a special day?”

“Special day?” she scoffed, “What’s so special about it?”

“Oh, my dear,” he brought an arm around her, leaning in,” It’s Devil’s Night,” he whispered into her ear, breath tickling her skin. 

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes, “I remember. However, I don’t give a damn. Just sign the papers and I’ll be out of your hair,” 

“But I don’t want you to go,”

“But I want to go,” she shot back.

James shook his head, taking a drag of his cigar, “You really want to end a twenty year marriage like this?”

Y/N barked out a laugh, “We were only together for a month of it,”

“Yes, till you left me,” he snapped, sudden venom in his tone, “You didn’t even say goodbye. Didn’t leave even a note. Just some blasted divorce papers.”

“So you did get them?” she mused, digging into her bag and plucking out a cigarette, bringing it to her lips.  Despite his anger, James still immediately brought his lighter to her cigarette, like he always did when they were together. She glared at him, dropping her lighter back into her purse and taking a puff, “From that letter you sent fifteen years ago, I was quite confused.”

“Ah, what did I write in that letter again?” 

“Hm,” she pretended to think, “First, I had wrote you telling you to sign the damn papers. You then wrote back saying you never got any papers. You said I would just have to meet with you to sort this out.”

“And you never did,” he pointed out the obvious, politely holding out a glass of scotch for her, which she dd not take, “So why now? Why not continue on with how things have been?” 

“Because I don’t want to!”

“Well why?” he pressed, stepping forward, “What’s so different now than fifteen years ago? Ten years ago? One year ago? What’s so different? What is so-?”

“I’m engaged!” 

There went the scotch.

It fell from his grasp immediately, the glass shattering onto the floor like little puzzle pieces, “...Excuse me?”

Y/N groaned, holding up her left hand, revealing an golden engagment ring with a modest diamond, “I’m engaged,”

James gripped her wrist, examining the ring closely, “How pathetic! You don’t even like gold, you love silver. And this diamond! It’s practically microscopic! How could you settle for a man that not only can’t tell your taste but is poor?”

She rolled her eyes, “How materialistic, James,”

“It’s true! It doesn’t even compare to to the ring I proposed to you with,” To Y/N’s surprise, James yanked up his necklace, revealing the charm that was neatly tucked under his dress shirt. Two rings, one silver with a dark trim and a comically large ruby in the middle, a diamond on either side. The other ring was more modest, still silver, with small diamonds embedded into it. Her engagement and wedding ring. 

“You… you kept the rings?”

“Of course I kept the damn rings!” he scoffed, raising his left hand now. He was still wearing his wedding ring. “Of course I kept the only remembrance I had of the wife who left me!” 

“You turned me into a damn vampire!” she shot back, shoving him angrily, “Did you expect me to be happy with you?” 

“I wanted us to spend eternity together-”

“I didn’t even know you were a vampire!” she shot back, “And you just turned me without even asking me! F-Forcing me to drink your blood, I thought it was some devilish ritual!”

“It was practically a ritual to declare our love!” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yeah, I felt so loved then. I was terrified! I didn’t know what you were going to do! You… You could have been planning some sacrifice or God knows what, I-”

His lips were then on hers, his body pushing hers against the desk. She gasped, feeling the sharp sting of the hard wood hitting her back. His hands went firmly on her hips, blunt nails digging into her flesh as he kissed her hungrily, her burgundy lipstick smearing all over both of their lips. 

She should have pushed him away. She really should have. Should have pushed him away and just fucking kill him to end this nonsense once and for all, but she couldn’t. Instead, her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him back just as feverishly. 

“You made me wait twenty years for you,” he growled, lips leaving hers to find her jaw, then her neck, kissing and sucking on the skin with need. “Twenty years without you,”

“N-Not like you missed me,” she panted, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How could you say such a thing? I have been patiently waiting. Have you ever seen any reports of the famous James March with a new mistress?” He tugged up her ebony dress till it was at her waist, pushing her onto the desk. He plucked the cigarette out of her shaking hand and discarded it into the ashtray. 

“Well, no-”

“Because there has not been any.” He said firmly, beginning to rub her through her lace panties. She whined out, grip on his hair tightening. “I have not touched a single other woman in twenty years while you've gone around whoring it up with all these other men who mean nothing compared to me,”

James took it upon himself to relieve her of her undergarments, his large fingers rubbing her swollen clit in tight circles, “Well? Who is he? Tell me about this bastard,”

“His n-name is William,” she choked out, hands going to his shoulders to ground herself, “He loves me very much,”

“Yeah? What does this William do for a living?” one of those long fingers slid through her wet folds and into her awaiting heat.

She bit her bottom lip, not just to stiffle her moans but to prolong her answer. “Um…”

“What does he do for a living?” James repeated, pushing in a second finger and curling them inside of her.

“Ahh! He's… A hotel owner…” She trailed off.

He stopped his movements, looking at her with wide eyes, “He's a what?”

“Hotel owner,”

His eyes darkened, “So my replacement is just some cheap copy?” he hissed, utterly offended, “For that you might of well have just stayed with me!” His fingers left her cunt, causing her to whine with need. “Shut up,” Next thing she knew, a large hand was delivering a harsh slap to her sex. 

She cried out, “James!”

“I said shut up,” he grumbled, hastily undoing his belt buckle and suspenders, pulling down the front of his pants and boxers, his leaning cock springing free. With one hand on her hip, he began to stroke himself, “Once I'm done with you, all thoughts of your cheap new fiance will be out the window.”

How the hell did they end up like this? She came here to demand for him to sign the damn divorce papers so she could marry the man she supposedly loved, yet here she was about to get her back blown out on her ex-lover’s desk.

James lined himself up with her entrance, slowly pushing in. He always started off gentle and romantic, but Y/N knew better. This was just the beginning.  “How does that feel, my love? Still thinking about that bastard William?” he said the name venomously. 

“N-No, James,” she whined out, legs wrapping around his waist as he began to thrust in and out of her, tantalizingly slow. He was teasing her, doing it on purpose. 

“Can he fill you like I can? Hit just the right spots like I do?” he continued, nipping at her earlobe, “I bet you don’t get this wet for him, bet he struggles pushing into you because he just doesn’t get you excited enough,” James smirked, both hands grabbing her waist as he sped up his pace, sliding in and out of her clenching walls with ease, “That’s never been a problem with me. You’ve always come to me with open arms… and open legs,”

“Oh, shut up, you bastard,” Y/N grumbled, nails beginning to dig into his back as he found a steady pace, hips snapping repeatedly against hers with each thrust. “We were never able to have normal sex, huh?”

“Well, you never stopped cursing me out,” he replied cheekily, hands going to her large fur coat, and sliding it off of her shoulders, “I think I got used to you berating me while I kindly pleasured you,”

“You got off on it, don’t lie,” she shot back with an eye roll, until he hit that perfect spot and she gasped, “Oh James do that again James please do that again-”

“Ah, that’s what I like to hear,” he mused, angling his hips to hit her G-spot over and over again. His hands went to the zipper of her dress, bringing it down so that the entirety of the garment was bunched up by her waist. “Much better,��� he said smugly, leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. 

“Ahh!” she whined, playing with her other nipple in pleasure, “Right there right here!”

He began thrusting into her faster, a groan leaving his lips as he plunged deep into her warmth, “Look at that, darling, your cunt is taking my cock so deeply, how greedy,” he teased, admiring the way she involuntarily clenched around his thick length with each thrust, swallowing his dick. 

“Greedy for your cock only, you damn bastard,” she cried out. Couples give each other such endearing or powerful names in the bedroom, but of course that had to be her favorite for him. Bastard. Even when they were madly in love, that was what she called him. “It always filled me up so w-well,”

“Really, darling?” he grinned, reaching a hand between their bodies and gently rubbing her clit. Her eyes snapped open and she whined, lips parting into the perfect “o” shape. “Filled you so perfectly? Then why did you try to replace me, huh? With some cheap copy? Sounds like we know who the real bastard is here,” 

The combination of his dick pounding into her and his fingers expertly rubbing her clit had her seeing stars. She dug her nails into his shoulders, head falling back as she moaned out in pleasure, giving him the perfect view of her breasts bouncing every time his hips met hers, skin slapping against skin. She wasn’t hearing a word he said at this point, digging her heels into his back, ankles locked, urging him deeper into her. Knowing she was still in her blood-red high heels turned him on even more, he used to always love seeing her in heels. 

“Damn you, you bastard, I’m going to cum!” she gasped, biting her bottom lip, “Damn you, damn you,”

James laughed, leaning his head down to bite her pulse point roughly, “You’re gonna cum all over your ex-lover’s cock, my queen? Cum all over my cock and make a mess of yourself? Do it, I dare you,” he lifted his head to survey her facial expressions as he continuously snapped his hips forward, drilling into her in abandon. He then reached out, his large hand going around her throat, and he didn’t even have to squeeze, she was cumming. 

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” Y/N squealed, cunt clenching around him one last time before he felt her thick fluids coat his length. 

“That’s it, my love, cum all over my cock, it’s my turn now, gonna fill you up, make you mine again,” he buried himself inside of her as he came, painting her walls white. Hips sputtering, he came to a halt, arms going around her waist, “All mine, no one else can have you but me,” he nuzzled her nose with his own, waiting for some movement. Signs of life. 

And then her gorgeous eyes opened, looking up at him tiredly, “I came here for a divorce,”

“Damn that divorce,”

“Damn that divorce,” she repeated, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

“Dramatic girl, leaving me all by my lonesome for twenty years just to come back to me,” 

Y/N hummed in response, closing her eyes, “Take that as punishment,”

James let out a soft chuckle, stroking her soft hair, “Have I been punished enough?”

“I suppose,” she pulled away from his neck to look him in the eyes, “Happy birthday, James,”

_____

how tf does one write dominate men sorry I usually like subs