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taintandviolent · 1 month

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Devil's Favours - James March x Reader

summary & wordcount: 4.9K! originally chosen as the party favour for James' Devil's Night celebration, reader is quickly snatched away by James March, who would rather have his own fun with her than let the others kill her.

w a r n i n g s: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! dark fic, dub-con, slight non-con, conflicted reader, sexual confusion, mild gore & blood, graphic descriptions, violence, aggression, bodily fluids, mentions of other real serial killers, smut, rough sex,overstimulation, body worship (reader with greek goddess body type), murder, reader death.

a/n: sorry for this, I'm mentally unwell. not beta read, so if it's horrid and clunky, I'm sorry!!! also, I think this is the last taglist I'll be doing, RIP. It's just such a pain in the rear end, and half the time, it doesn't even work.

full fic & taglist under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! /

After a long day of travelling, sleep was the only thing on your mind. That said, you were in desperate need of a bath, something relaxing. This was, afterall, a vacation. You twisted the ceramic knob on the hot water, and stuck your hand under it. With a hiss, you withdrew your hand – usually, water took a minute to reach temperature. This one? Scalding hot within a few seconds. Dangerously so. You twisted the knob on the cold side, evening them out until they’d reached a less skin-melting combination, and shed your clothes. You’d only been in there for thirty minutes or so before someone began rapping their knuckles against your door. Persistently. Very persistently.

“Just a minute!” you called from the bathroom, hoping your voice travelled. You reached for one of the towels – meticulously embroidered with the hotel’s logo – and wrapped it hurriedly around your torso. “Hang on!”

Quickly rummaging around in your suitcase and swearing under your breath that you had packed more, you searched for something to wear. Feeling pressured and running out of time, you settled on a cream coloured silk slip. Hardly modest with your plenteous figure, but the knocking continued and that seemed more important than decency. You hurried to the door, yanking it open with an air of annoyance. The vexation melted away when you were met with a man who looked more like he belonged on a silver screen than he did standing in front of you.

“Good evening.” He said, dipping his head down in a courteous display.

“…Can I help you?”

His lips stayed together, but curved into a subtle smirk. Though it was an unintentional pick; he’d chosen well; your delectable form was as if it was carved by Gods themselves. The look in your eyes told him that you were so alive, so vivacious that any bloodshed that would happen would be akin to art. His eyes were immediately lost on you, exploring your body and face with a fervid fascination. Feeling exposed, you pulled at the silken straps, bringing the neckline of the nightgown higher up on your body. Your cleavage protested, the fabric puckering across the voluminosity of your breasts.

All this time, he’d been silent, and you arched an expectant brow, wondering just what it was that you were to help him with. This man was… peculiar. From his fancy dressage to the articulate, over-pronounced way he spoke, his idiosyncrasies both alarmed and fascinated you.

“Indeed,” he affirmed. He’d made his decision; you were the one for the night. And he’d have you, whether you came willingly or not.

“My name is James March — I’m the owner of this impressive hotel in which you now stand.” He paused, expectantly as if that was enough for you to throw your arms up and consent to whatever he was asking. When you didn’t, he added: “I need you to come with me. Urgently.”

You squinted, scanning his motivations. A warm, gentle smile stretched across his lips, framed by his pencil thin mustache. His hand rose, fingers uncurling in front of you. There was something unnervingly come-hither about his gaze. Would he have introduced himself with malicious intentions? Surely not — that could lead to identifying him later on. But he could’ve given you a fake name, perhaps…

Unable to resist his passé seduction and against (likely) better judgement, your hand floated up into his, resting delicately against his palm. His fingers closed around yours, lingering a moment before guiding you out of your room, allowing the heavy door to swing shut behind you. He began leading you briskly down the hallway.

“I forgot my key, wait I –”

“Worry not, my dear. We’ll have another made for you, should you need it.”

Should I need it? You thought. Why wouldn’t I need it? Of course I’ll need my key, I’m walking down the hallway in nothing but a nightgown.

You trodded barefoot down the halls, listening to the sounds as you passed them. The hotel, you noticed, creaked and breathed with a life of its own. Whether the rooms were occupied wasn’t known, but they sounded as if they were.

As soon as you two got to a door, only a few down from your own, he reached for the handle and instantly, as soon as he did; something felt wrong. Something felt… sinister and the feeling took over like a gelatinous sludge. You tried to yank your hand away but James sternly jerked you the opposite way — back towards him. With a throaty growl, he wrapped both arms around your torso, holding you fast in a steel grip so that try as you might, you couldn’t dislodge yourself from his grasp. His strength proved too much for your feeble, sleepy muscles.

After shouldering the door open, James carried you inside. In a moment of panicked clarity, you tried to peek around and identify anything you could. The stern way that his hand was plastered on your forehead, holding it against his shoulder, you could really only see the ornate ceiling above you.

You took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that burned at the corners of your eyes. This was it. You’d gone this far in life without being mugged, raped, or killed… today was the day it would change. Your track record would end. Abruptly. Terrifyingly. Your chest shuddered with an uneven, hysterical breath. At least he was handsome. No, shut up. That’s not the kind of thought you want to be thinking.

Suddenly, your body dropped forward and you were spun around harshly, his grip still tight on the fleshy meat of your arms. Then, as though he was a lover and not your soon-to-be-murderer, he eased your back against a wooden chair with one hand, delicately, suddenly concerned with hurting you, like you were some kind of easily-bruised fruit.

“Good girl, sit there.”

At his praising words, your core twinged, tightening. No, no. Stop it. Clenching your teeth, you quashed the thought before it went any further.

His right hand snatched something from a nearby table before holding it proudly, stretching it out for you to see; rope. Unconsciously, your head began shaking back and forth. As the realisation sunk in, your heart rate picked up, thudding against your ribcage.

“N-no, no… no please.”

With the rope still in hand, James got to one knee in a familiar pose. His lightless eyes floated up to yours, staring into them deeply. Now in front of you, his cock twitched within his trousers, a carnal instinct tugging like an incessant child. He brushed the pads of his fingers along the smooth curves of your knees, your calves, your ankles…

Damn. You – obviously – were a woman with needs, so his feather-light touch awoke something deep within your core again. This time though, it didn’t take you reversing the arousal. The shiny tip of his shoe knocked your feet apart, lining them up with the legs of the chair. She clenched harder.

“What are you doing?” You asked, tensely. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He paused to answer, straightening up. “Securing you, my dear. A struggle is inevitable.”

“What!? Inevitable for what?!”

He didn’t answer. Hastily working, his large but nimble hands wrapped the rope around the smallest part of your ankles, knotting the rope against the chair. Your wrists came next, and those were tied much tighter; the fibres of the rope ground against your soft skin, already causing a burning friction.

With a sudden, powerful pull at the bindings, testing their security, James was finished. He was confident in his knotting, you wouldn’t get away. Humming to himself, he dragged the chair through an archway, into another, much larger room. You were facing a table – it was ornately set with a large contraption in the middle. You recognised it as an absinthe fountain, the bright green liquid in the container seemed to glow. You didn’t want to be a part of whatever this was, even as attractive as that man was.

“Please,” you begged. “Please, I just… I want to go back to my room. Let me go.”

“Let you go?” James echoed in a mockingly high tone. He seemed offended that you’d even desire such a thing. It was a pleasure — a privilege — to be invited to his dinners. “No…. You’re staying with me. Right here.”

He pat your thigh before moving to the head of the table. For the first time since you’d been brought in, you took a moment to look around, to take in your surroundings instead of him. Immediately, you whimpered in disbelief — met with such a visual that you almost immediately thought you were hallucinating. You blinked away the tears and sniffed, pressing your lips tightly together.

It was truly bone-chilling to see all of the worst eyes on you. The eyes that had seen the most foul crimes and atrocities in human history were now looking at you; the bound beauty with her sweat-soaked strands of hair stuck to your forehead and fear in your eyes. John Wayne Gacy, Richard Ramirez, Jeffrey Dahmer….

“She’s shakin’ like a god damn leaf!” Aileen Wuornos howled, before finishing off the rest of her beer. She slammed it on the table, the clatter made you jump. She doesn’t want me, you thought. I’m not her enemy. Still, you knew that you’d been sat at a table full of people — true monsters — who even if they didn’t want to kill you, they’d take great pleasure in watching you writhe in agony as the others stole your last breath from your lungs.

Though they were all equally terrifying, you were most horrified by Richard. He sat directly next to James, picking absently at his nails. His sunken, snake eyes followed every move you made; watching you with a hunger that made your skin crawl. Considering the circumstances, it was laughable to say that one made you feel unsafer than the others — but he did. Logically, how he preyed upon women must’ve played into your distaste for him. He held your gaze, peering into your thoughts with a vicious lack of consent, as he behaved with every woman he came in contact with. Finally, he spoke.

“I’ve waited long enough, Jimmy — can we kill her?” He said, sucking something out of his rotting teeth. He made a move as though he was going to get up.

You snapped your head to James, brows knit together in pleading. The visual surprised you. He, like the rest of the dinner party, had been staring at you, but instead of the feral, blood hungry gaze you expected, his eyes had gone glassy. He sucked his cheeks in, deep in thought. Beneath the dark fabric of his dress pants, heat blanketed his groin. You captivated him; the way your precious little eyes flitted back and forth in terror like a deer, the way your pulse thrummed in your neck, beating like a drum. He wanted you for his own — and only his own. Keeping his motives hidden, James stood up, smoothing out the fabric of his suit jacket.

“No,” he crooned. “No, we can’t. I’m afraid I’ve had a change of heart… this one… belongs to me.”

You jerked your head in confusion, while grumbles of disappointment bounced off the walls. Ramirez said something sickening and Gacy let out a horrible, guttural chuckle. You strained against the rope, somehow trying to put more distance between you and them. James sliced his hand through the air to silence them both.

“Miss Wuornos,” he abruptly purred. “Go find us a dashing young man keen to join our party!”

“Ohohoh…. Lil’ ol’ me? Find a man? I’m gonna’ be frolickin’ in the fuckin’ daisy fields with this one. Be back!”

“Pl-please.” You begged. Your lips parted, allowing desperate promises to fall from between them. You wouldn’t tell anyone, you’d never come back here, you wouldn’t remember anything, you promised, you would never speak a word of this to anyone… You looked to James, who regarded you affectionately, but patronisingly, his lower lip jutted out in a faux-pout. He’d heard all this before, and it was of no concern to him. He’d made up his mind. It was his god damned birthday and he was going to have you all to himself.

Your begging fell on seemingly deaf ears, nobody bothered to entertain you. Your teary, burning eyes flitted to Ramirez, who was smiling his ugly, decaying smile at you, leaning forward in his seat. “I dunno’, she promises, Jimmy… maybe we should let her go.”

You shivered, grinding your wrists against the rope. Anger blanketed you. “Fuck off, weirdo.”

“Who you callin’ weirdo, bitch?”

“YOU!” You barked, straining. “I can smell your rancid breath from here. Had to kill all those women just because none of them would ever come within ten fucking feet of you!”

“Now, now… manners. She’s a lively one, isn’t she?” His mouth bent in a proud smirk, James looked to Richard, who was still bristling from the comment. He really wanted to kill you. Delighted at the fact that James had seemingly given you immunity, you wiggled happily in your chair, fighting the urge to stick your tongue out. You didn’t want to test him, though, and so you remained silent, watching instead.

Silence was broken as the door opened. With a little thrashing, almost as desperate as your own had been, Aileen shoved a man — couldn’t have been more than 30 — inside. It didn’t take her long to find someone. In fact, it was like she opened the door, spotted him meandering by and dragged him back inside.

The guy noticed you first. Second, he noticed that you were tied to the chair so tightly that red marks on your wrists and ankles had begun to develop. Thirdly, he noticed the others, his eyes drifting slowly and visibly disturbed by who sat at the table.

“Woah… what the fuck is this?” He asked.

“A good fuckin’ time is what it is.” One of them said. You didn’t care which. Blisteringly hot tears streamed down your face, stinging your cheeks. What were the stages of grief? You felt like you were cycling through them in rapid succession.

“Fucking let me go!” You howled, thrashing your torso back and forth, which did little to relieve anything. With a distressed expression plastered upon his face, the guy looked from you to the other guests and back, before nervously putting his hands up, taking one step back towards the door. “Hey, is she okay?”

“N—!“ James was suddenly behind you, cupping his hand over your mouth, pressing the tips of his fingers hard into your cheek flesh. His lips moved quickly, whispering hotly into your ear. “Hush now, don’t spoil the surprise for him. Let him find out on his own.”

“She’s fine, the hors d’oeuvres didn’t agree with her.” Aileen barked, towing the guy towards the table. She shoved him down into the only unoccupied seat.

“Dinner… is served.” James said.

In unison, they all stood up. The sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor echoed in your head. Like syncronised swimmers, they all descended upon him, armed with whatever weapon they’d chosen. You hadn’t known the guy, but he had enough sympathy for you to make you cry at what was happening to him. He’d had a life, family… feelings. None of which mattered to him anymore, or perhaps that’s exactly what he was thinking about. Perhaps your entire life really did flash before your eyes before you died.

You let out a scream that burned on its way out. It ached and tore and ripped its way up your windpipe as the shrill, bloodcurdling sound filled the room. It was louder than his, and louder than the sounds that were currently coming from the gaping, gargling hole in his throat.

Gacy moved from his side, allowing you a brief glimpse. Torn flesh hung from his shoulders and blood had almost completely covered the front of his body. You closed your eyes and turned your head away, rolling your lips inward and biting down. It was fucked up, and you weren't going to absorb any more of it.

“Sweet dreams, my little pet.” James said, in front of you. You turned your head towards the sound, but were met with blackness.

A dull throbbing on the side of your head was what eventually pulled you awake, forcing your cinder-block weighted lids to peel apart. You looked around; an odd, minimally decorated room. Dark. Your head wobbled as you turned it left, then right, met with the same visual — your arms suspended high above your head, and rope again, at your wrists. You licked your lips and tasted metal. In your blurred vision, you noticed red flecked along your breasts. The ache on the side of your head was more than just an ache, it seemed.

Your consciousness ebbed, fading in and out. Sleep was comforting, the idea of it cradling you in its arms like a baby. You wanted so badly to sleep… just for a moment. Somewhere inside, you heard authoritative voices, advising against sleep. Concussions… sleep… sleep is bad… keep the individual conscious. And so you fought against the cool, towering shadow, turning your head away from nothing in particular. You couldn’t hear anything outside of your own laboured breathing, and the creak of the rope every time you decided to move. Nothing. Not even the muted voices of the monsters.

Time meant nothing, you lost track of how long you’d been hanging there when you’d finally heard the creak of a heavy door. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly before wrenching them open. You weren’t sure if the crushing weight you felt was the looming weight of death as it shrouded you, or merely the physical strain of your body being suspended for hours. You knew people could eventually die from suspension. Their lungs caved in or something. The tips of your toes barely touched the floor, your big toe grazing the cold, concrete floor every time your body swayed softly.

With your head hanging between your shoulders, your muscles quivered as you lifted it, just in time to see the door in front of you shut. James, standing in front of it, reached for a black leather apron that hung on a hook. Before slipping it over his head, he flashed you a charming smile, pleased to see that you hadn’t expired yet. Reaching behind him to tie it around his waist, he approached you. The light from the wall sconces reflected against the fabric dully.

“Ah, there you are.” He crooned.

You intended a scream, but could do nothing but whimper. You swallowed repeatedly, a feeble attempt to wet your dried out throat. James drug a single finger along your soft jawline, trailing it down your neck, and along your collarbone. You were drenched in sweat, streaks of it descending your face and neck.

The sudden ferocity in which he gripped your face made it sting, his thumb and forefinger digging into the bone of your jaw. He quirked a brow. You opened your mouth and although your throat was already raw, you finally screamed. You screamed again, angrily, and held his cold, black gaze. Your ragged shrieks filled the room over and over again as you tried, desperately, to wrench your hands free from the ropes.

Regrettable, James thought as his soulless eyes hungrily took in your form as it quivered and thrashed around. You were built like a Greek goddess, soft curves in all the right places, begging to be touched, worshipped.

“Aaaah,” He exhaled, frustratedly. “You’re almost too pretty to kill.”

“Then — DON’T! Fucking let me GO! AaaarhhhH!” You yanked at the ropes again, thrashing around until a deep pain in your shoulder began to burn. You cried out, letting your body go slack.

With a deep breath, you mustered up all your strength again, finding every drop of it within your tired body, and leaned forward to scream directly in his face. The result? He was wholly unphased by your screams. If anything, it seemed like he enjoyed them. Each one sounded a little more desperate than the last, and it only fuelled him further.

You decide to try a new, last-ditch tactic. Sore mouth contorting into a scowl, you gathered a mouthful of saliva and blood, hot and irony on your tongue and lunged forward, spitting it at him. The glob hit him square in the face, dripping slowly down towards his jaw.

“What, is it hard to focus?” You croaked. Your words were slurred, messy with the pain of the head wound. “Didn’t think you’d want to fuck me as bad as you do, huh?”

James’ dark eyes narrowed, the muscles underneath twitching faintly. He had in fact picked you, and therefore had to accept all of your fiery little quips as they came – but that one… that one had caught him off guard.

“You…” You narrowed your eyes, the fibres of the rope squeaking as you leaned towards him, your lips inches from his face. “…want to fuck me so bad, you can’t think. Look at you. You think your apron hides it?”

With brows raised, James glanced at his groin. Had he really been betrayed by his own body, so early on? Though he felt the warmth and stiffness increasing between his legs, there was no visual indication. James calmly brought his hand to his face, collecting the bloodied spit on his fingertips. With a reticent gaze, he brought them down between your legs, harshly knuckling the nightgown out of the way.

He smeared them roughly on your cunt. Your own fluids. The ones that you had just spit at him. Not only that, but he proceeded to tease your sensitive nerves with his fingers, pulling a confused gasp from your throat. Part of you had been bluffing, you weren’t entirely sure that he had wanted you —

James pulled back an inch to look at you again. Aside from your luscious body, your complexion was mottled with exhaustion, lips dry with fear, hair frazzled and bloody on one side. To him, it was a horrific sculpture of divinity. One that he had created in such little time with such little effort. The perfect, ample curves of your breasts were dotted with crimson, having dripped from the gash on your head. They jiggled delicately with each desolate shake you gave.

With his free hand, he took hold of your round, plush hips, his thumb working the softness like dough. He swung you towards him, pressing the pillowy tops of your thighs to his groin. Quickly, he identified a growing obsession with your body.

He loved it. All of it. In fact, he hadn’t seen a body as marvellously breathtaking as yours since his wife’s. Of course, it had been many years since he’d seen hers in any such manner, so the flames that licked at his desire were deprived, hungry ones. His mouth found yours, lips crushing against yours. His tongue, hot and strong, slipped in and beckoned yours to engage in an erotic dance.

He pulled your body closer, pressing it tightly against his. Though constricted by his trousers, you felt the bulging heat beneath his apron, and rubbed your thigh against it, teasing him. He groaned deeply in response, bucking his hips against you to force friction. After a few moments, James broke the kiss, panting heavily over your tender, swollen lips.

“Pl-please… don’t kill me… please…”

The back of his hand whipped across your mouth, hitting you so hard that the world sparkled when you opened your eyes again. Your face burned with the contact.

“Enough of that now! Say it again, and I’ll do just that!”

The harshness in his voice stunned you. Up until that point, he’d been using his syrupy, serenading voice — the one he had used to charm you into coming with him. Now, he bellowed, an unexpected violence. Silence hung heavy between you as he waited, baited you to beg for life once more. You didn’t speak again, but your sobs continued.

Finally, his hand dropped between your legs again. Your clit ached, burned with the way his fingers fondled it, but he didn’t stop. Your poor, exhausted body trembled beneath his touch, doing all it could to express arousal. Salty droplets streamed from your hairline into your eyes, stinging as they absorbed.

“Would you rather die?” he asked, suddenly.

“Wh-what? N-no… I d-don’t want to die…”

“That’s not what I meant, my little ember. I meant… would you rather die than be pleasured? I, of course, can arrange that.”

You hesitated a moment, but finally, shook your head.

At this thoughtful confession, James angled forward, plunging a single finger inside of you, past the knuckle. The digit wiggled inside of you briefly, before sliding back out slowly. He held it up for you both to see. “Oh,” he growled.

His finger was generously coated in clear slick. Your body had betrayed you.

Wordlessly, he untied the apron, tossing it carelessly to the side – it hit the floor with a heavy flop. Then, those same nimble fingers began unbuttoning and unzipping, until they gripped his rigidness, pumping it slowly for further stimulation. His chest heaved with wanton, desiring breaths as he stared at you, hanging there, with your warm, ample body for his taking. James lined his dick up with your leaking slit, and pulled you harshly onto his cock, showing no mercy for how exhausted your body was.

Your cunt swallowed his cock whole, hungrily and desperately. His head fell back between his shoulders, a throaty groan coming from his open mouth. He began thrusting, slow at first. The ease of thrusting fascinated him; your body hung limp on the ropes and all James had to do was tug you forward, tug you in the direction he wanted you to go.

“You know, I’ve never taken a woman like this before - suspended in the air,” he said, breathily. “Exquisite.”

You mewled in response, snot dripping from your nose.

Soon, the room was filled with wet, slick thrusting and the thudding sound of his torso as it met yours. You came repeatedly, coating his thick, pale cock in fluids you didn’t even know your body could make. At one point, during a particularly vicious thrusting, a warm, watery liquid splashed down over your thighs. You screamed like he was killing you, though he felt better than any man you’d ever been with, pleasuring you in ways that left you feeling breathless.

Still, your body persisted with its aches. So far, you’d been successful in appealing to his sexual nature, and decided to try again.

“….please…. Let me down… I’ll… d-do anything you wa—

Suddenly, he backed up, pulling the head from your cunt with a slick pop. You panted; fragile, pitiful breaths, barely enough energy to lift your gaze. With his rigid cock bouncing in front of him, James untied your hands, allowing your heavy, enervated body to fall into his arms. You couldn’t help but cry into his shoulder as he carried you to some sort of surface, laying you carefully down atop it. Some streak of mercy had captured him, and you mouthed words of gratitude. Your entire body buzzed with relief, your muscles aching in a funny, tingling way.

James wasted no time in fucking you again; the tip was nearly scarlet, hungry for release. His hand compressed on your soft stomach, pressing down into it to increase the pressure of his cock as it drove deeper and deeper inside of you.

“You know how this ends, my dear.” When he spoke, it sounded far away. But you did. You knew. There was never any end to this besides the one that you’d envisioned fearfully. He leaned to the side, retrieving a small, but very, very sharp blade from a nearby metal table. You watched numbly as James lifted the knife above your neck.

His hips pumped rhythmically, bringing you both closer to the fiery edge of ecstasy. Pulsing veins massaging your silklike insides, and another orgasm galloped towards you. Your body quivered, cold sweats taking over.

James whipped the knife across your perfectly warm neck, and instinctively, your hands went to the laceration. Bright crimson gushed out from the spaces between your fingers, and you felt a gushy warmth press against your digits. The inner workings of your throat, you realized. The gore of your own body, pressing back against you in its heat. James laid one hand over yours, seemingly just to feel the blood as it spurted. With a deep, guttural moan, his cock twitched inside you just before it released, coating your insides.

She gasped, a wet gurgle. The light left her eyes, gradually, but beautifully. The pulses of blood eventually ebbed to a dull trickle. As his thrusts slowed, he expelled a long sigh – killing both excited him and depressed him. On one hand; it brought exhilaration, delight and sheer unadulterated arousal. On the other however, you only truly got to do it once. Certainly, you could kill a ghost a million times over, but the effect wasn’t the same.

For a moment, James’ expression contorted into one of regret; when you returned in your new spectral form, you’d likely not want to spend time with him. Yet another woman who loathed his presence roaming the hallways, avoiding him. But perhaps, he still wouldn’t mind having you stuck with him for all eternity, if only to gaze upon your perfect form whenever you’d let him. With matching wounds, at that. A true romantic.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @garykingz / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @tatesdisasterofalover / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @demxnicprxncess / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @babygorewhore / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randominstake / @throwinginmythai / @slvt4jamesmarch / @poltoreveur / @feefymo / @evpeters87 / @lacucarachapisser / @stveharringtn / @fear-is-truth

#fuck it we ball #James Patrick March #James Patrick March x you #James Patrick March x reader #james march x reader #ahs smut #ahs fanfiction #AHS Hotel #American Horror Story Hotel #myfics

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cult-princess · 5 months

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peace and love to the kit girlies but we know who the REAL lady killers are 🤭

#evan peters #james patrick march #kai anderson #ahs hotel #james march #american horror story #american horror story hotel #ahs cult #evan peters edit #kit walker #ahs asylum

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marchsfreakshow · 6 months

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Nicknames and Praise {James Patrick March x Reader}

You're a sub. A big one. So James helps you find a way to ride him confidently.

Pure Smut underneath the cut !!

No one's perspective

18+!! MINORS DNI Warnings: pure Smut, bare-bones plot, pnv, riding, praise, use of the nicknames daddy and master, Just a lotta praise. Crud smut writing ಠ⁠◡⁠ಠ

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Whines and small groans took over the room. Sloppy kisses pressed to your lips and his lips. People walked past the room, distracted by the noises coming from room 64. They were distracted by the wonder of how much he was pleasuring you, or how much you were pleasuring him. They simply carried on walking, however, not wanting to peek in and distract you and James.

Both of you were almost high from each other's scents, unable to keep yourself from kissing his neck and wanting to leave marks. "Sir...please. please let me lay down.."

"no no Mon Cher...you're staying on top of me today. I'm teaching you how to be a good girl for daddy."

You gulped as you sat up, and nodded. "Yes, daddy." A blush made your face more red, and James stared up at you. Almost intimidating you. Fine. The clothes were coming off. First your thin, woolly jacket. It barely hid your sheer, white shirt. The shirt proudly showed off the bra you wore especially for James. Dark red. Almost a maroon. James secretly hoped it was a matching set because it looked so good on you.

He cursed under his breath. A rare thing, for James. Cursing. You leaned down and smiled warmly at James. "You're such a good girl, aren't you? Wearing your best lingerie for me. You planned this didn't you?"

"Maybe." As you were leaning down, he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, revealing the seductive underwear you put on earlier.

Your skirt went next. He wasted no time moving you around so you were laying under him. Both of you were staring at each other, the tension wanted to be cut. Cut by James turning you around and undoing your skirt, ripping it off along with ripping a hole in your tights. A perfect hole that lined up with your pretty, plump ass.

James stared at your ass. He stared for so long, that you propped yourself up on your elbows and attempted to turn around again. "Sir...?"

"I'm going to make you scream."

You let out a little squeak as you let yourself move your face back into the pillow. "Oh, puppy no. Not today." James grabbed your hair and moved your head up, only slightly, so your neck didn't feel like it was going to rip open. He would most likely prefer that, however.

"Sir...Daddy please.."

"Please what?"

"Please do me already." You whined, staring at the general direction of the headboard. He let out a 'hm' and a little laugh, letting go of you already. Your head immediately plopped back onto the pillow. James had sat himself down next to you and was staring at you. The lust in his eyes was like a fire, wanting to be ignited by your moans, and making you feel like a fuck toy for him.

His trousers had been taken off, and his shirt, messily unbuttoned. It made you want him more. You hastily straddled him again, and he chuckled. "Look at you my whore, so desperate for me yes?" You nodded again, hiding your blushing face from the man below you. "Go on, put it in."

The eye contact was unbearable. You slowly move your own underwear to the side. It matched your dark, maroon bra. Uncomfortable but lacy, and it turned James on more. You took his cock out of his own underwear, staring longly at it. But you looked back up, and he was staring darkly at you. The light in his eyes was no more. All he wanted was to see you whimper and feel embarrassed as you rode his cock, without any guidance. He wanted you to do it solo. Ride him, pleasure him, and make you feel more dominant because of how much of a submissive woman you were for him.

"oh, my pup can't even put it in herself can she?"

"I...I can do it daddy." You quietly moaned, adjusting yourself until you were lowered onto James cock. He made you sit upright on it, so it reached the G-spot immediately. It made you whine slightly and grip onto his sides. Your whines turned him on more, both of you staring intensely at each other. The tension rose again quickly. It ended when you leaned down and hid your face in your master's neck. Yet, you attempted to continue moving. You rocked your hips back and forth rather than up and down.

James groaned heavily but pushed you and kept you upright. "You're such a good girl for your master. Riding me just right.." You nodded in response, hiding your face in your hands. "Look at me, angel."

He held your hands away from your face and gestured down towards you sitting on top of him. Gulping slightly, you started to move again, attempting to go faster. The small whimpers and moans left your mouth as you moved, with James holding your hips and helping you move.

It was easy to find your pace, but he wanted you to look at him. If only looking at him didn't make you weak, and soft. If only looking in his general direction didn't turn you into his putty to play with. His eyes truly intimidated you, you became a whimpering, slutty mess under his hands. Even if he just praised you for looking at him while he fucked you raw.

"oh pup. Mm, puppy."

He was close. You could tell.

He had his eyes screwed shut, his hands still gripping onto your moving hips.

Quickly, you took the opportunity to grind down, and rock back and forth on his cock as fast as you could. "f..fuck. daddy.." You whispered in between your own moans. James continued to moan your name out, resisting the urge to cum without looking at you.

As your head was thrown back, he opened his eyes to look at your pretty face. "my pretty girl.." his voice was breathy. You looked back down and immediately hid your face. "Daddy didn't teach you to hide your face...when he's gonna come." James barely managed to get out between breaths.

Despite feeling incredibly embarrassed for no reason, you carried on grinding and riding James. He whispered and moaned out praises for you as you cried out his own names you had for him. Your dynamic was heard by everyone on the current floor of the hotel. Yet you didn't care at that moment, you were being James' good girl, and taking him until both of you were in a mess.

When James gripped your waist one last time, you could feel him coming, so you let yourself flop down. You hid yourself in his neck again. "You're such a good girl for me.."

"mhm.." You managed to squeak out as you moved around and lay beside James. Soon though, you took your cloth and cleaned yourself and James up. "I love you, darling."

"I love you my hummingbird. I'm so proud of you. Next time I'll do everything hm?"

"Thank you daddy." Before kissing him softly, you laid the blanket over yourself and the man lying next to you.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @ahsrulez420 @taintandviolent @lilthbunny @howtobesasha @hyperharlz @tatelangdonsweater

{[please ask to be added to the taglist!]}

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

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ameriicanwh0re · 8 days

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#american horror story #evanpeters #epeters #evan peters icons #evan peters imagine #evan peters photoshoot #evan peters #ahs #american horror story murder house #american horror story hotel #james patrick march #jpm #james march

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maeriavizsendingjpmdose · 13 days

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a man of the roaring 20's once said: "Well, I had it all once. Fortune, fame. But nothing satisfied."

#james patrick march #james march #american horror story #american horror story hotel #ahs hotel #ahs #evan peters #aesthetic

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ultrxviolencxe · 8 months

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i miss the days of old ahs so much

#american horror story #murder house #american horror story murder house #american horror story asylum #american horror story coven #freak show #american horror story freak show #american horror story hotel #violet harmon #tate longdon #evan peters #ryan murphy #tv shows #horror

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marchswifey · 6 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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ladygagaqueenedit · 6 months

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#Throwback: se estrenaba “American Horror Story: Hotel” por el canal FX; hace 8 años hoy (07/10/2015).

Lady Gaga es La Condesa en American Horror Story: Hotel (2015).

#lady gaga #gaga #lgaga #gagaedit #lgagaedit #2015 #american horror story #american horror story hotel #ahs #ahs hotel #ahsedit #ahscast #ahscastedit #the countess #actressdaily #actressedit #ahs cast

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jellyluvr · 10 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

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

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