warnings : kissing, teasing, murder, gore, toture, not proof read!!
wc : 0.6k. authors note : I love James patrick march so bad. I stay up and think about him.
James patrick march is a violent man, and somehow you'd fallen in love with him. It had been a random night at the hotel cortez when you had walked in, it wasn't some grand gesture but when James saw you he knew that you'd be his. He tried everything that night, all his charm and tricks. And it definitely had worked, i mean how couldn't you fall for a man like him?
there is only one thing he loved more than murder and that was you, so when he found out that you also dabbled in his bloody hobby he practically begged to murder someone with you.
"You're getting blood all over my new dress!" You snap at him when the thrusts of his knife into the poor guys neck makes a splatter that hits your dress.
James sighs taking his knife and wiping the blood off of it with a handkerchief, the shiny ornate blade catching the light perfectly. It was a gift from you on your 46th anniversary together. James adored it, you hadn't seen him murder someone without it.
The man tied to the wooden chair thrashes for a second. James couldn't help but smile as the man gurgled what sounded like a prayer as his blood fills his lungs and mouth.
"Your God is not going to save you now" James mocks using his knife to push the man's chin to look up at us, his face was bloody and whatever recognizable features on his face were now long gone. You hum nodding, pouting your bottom lip out mockingly.
"Poor thing believes he'll be saved.." you sigh while gently pushing the man's bloody brunette hair out his face before tilting his head all the way back to expose his neck.
You take your knife gliding the sharp tip across the subtle stubble on his neck before plunging it deep into it, it caused the man to scream and pass out due to the ammount of blood that poured out of him.
"Where is your God now?" You snarl with an eye roll as you dig the knife deeper into his neck.
James groans turning to face you fully, "darling, you are just heavenly when you take someone's life." He smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist. He buried his face into your neck kissing the small traces of blood on your soft skin.
"And you dear, are just as devilish." You tease leaning back into him. Your hands finding his on your body.
"Am I now?"
"You no you are, james. No need to tease," You smile kissing him, your hand finding his perfect black hair and running through it.
Jame kisses you deeply tasting the faint blood on your lips that splattered, it took everything out if him to not just take you right than. He's a classy man after all and has to have some self control.
"You will be the death of me, dove" He murmurs against your lips. his hands finding you hips and pulling you flat against him.
"You love me." You tease, barely pulling away to look at his face before stealing another quick kiss.
"You know i do."
James dark eyes flicker across your face, his thumb rubbing gently on your hip as he seemingly studied your face. A small smile forms on his pale face as he cups your cheek pulling you in for another kiss.
Till Death Do Us Part- James Patrick March x fem! reader
Synopsis: You are James Patrick March’s wife and partner in crime and have been for the last 5 years, and you are on a murder spree and soon get found by cops, you both vowed always to be together, so you escaped together the only way you knew how.
TW: Suicide, Murder (I mean, it’s James March..)
Authors Note: Hello everyone! it’s been a bit since I posted a genuine fanfic on here, and I’ve had this one in my drive for quite some time and I remembered how much I loved this man, and what better time to post it since he’s making his return in season 13! I hope you all enjoy! I made a part two so if you guys like this one, maybe I’ll post the sequel 👀👀
“After you, dearest.” James said as he opened the car door to let me out. “Why thank you, dear.” He and I grabbed our weapons, put on our masks, and headed up the hill to the Greenbyrd Mansion. Once we arrived at the mansion, we knocked on the door, and a tall man in a mask greeted us. “Good evening,” he spoke. James and I looked at each other. “Good night.” James responded. And he stabbed him in the stomach. He screamed out in pain as I muffled his voice with a cloth as I slit his neck open, blood spewing out everywhere as he collapsed to the ground, “We’d best continue with our binge, doll.” “Indeed we shall.” We walked over the now-deceased man and into the ballroom of the mansion.
We opened the doors and fired at the first people we saw. Screams erupted out of the crowd, and everyone rushed to the exits; if they could, of course. Blood was splattered on every wall in the ballroom, and my god, was it beautiful. No person was safe from us. We were shooting people, slicing their necks, stabbing people, knocking them out, you name it,
By the time our slaughter session had concluded, we were covered head to toe in blood. “I think our work here is done, my darling.” he proudly announced. “Perhaps it is.” We then suddenly heard a loud weep from what sounded like it was coming from behind a table. James immediately lifted the table to see a woman crying. “Please, sir, spare me, I did nothing at all!” she cried. “No mercy on Devil’s Night..” he shot her in the skull, killing her immediately. Her dress was now soaked in her blood. “Shall we escape to our hideaway?” “I thought you’d never ask.”
We exited the auditorium and walked back to our car. “After you, dear heart,” he said as he opened the door for me. “Thank you, kind sir.” I giggled as I got into the car. We drove back to Hotel Cortez, where we had been staying for the last 5 years because he owned it. We had just walked up to the bar when we heard sirens in the distance. Liz cocked her head to the side with an unimpressed look on her face. “How many people did you kill now, you two?” she asked. “Oh you know.. 30.” She shook her head while muttering “Jesus Christ” under her breath. “Well, if I didn’t know better, I’d say the cops were here for you two,” she said. “I suppose you’re right, Liz. we best escape to our room, dearest.” James replied. “Send my regards to Ms. Evers, please, Liz!” he exclaimed as we went to room 64. We locked the door and James opened the door to his Black Closet and pulled out two rifles and bullets. He loaded both weapons and handed one to me. He put his hand on my cheek. “Dearest…my love for you is stronger than any weapon I have.” He kisses me passionately on the lips before pulling away. “Shall the day ever come that I never see you again; the day that I have no purpose for the afterlife.” We stand across from each other and put our guns in each other's mouths as we prepare to pull the trigger. “Till death do us part, my darling,” He says. We pull back the triggers. “Till death do us part.”
drabble word count: 553
warnings: female reader, no y/n, no mention of reader’s appearance, kidnapping/reader is a missing person, bondage, gagging, implied psychological and physical torture, no smut, a little sexual tension if you squint with villain-fucker eyes.
a/n: NOT BETA READ, womp womp. inspired by this post and the follow-up ask of @sempiternalbeauty! had to write a quick little somethin' somethin' for it because the idea rotted my brain.
dividers by @/uzmacchiato.
It's been a day. Two days? Three, maybe. You aren't sure. The heavy curtains block out every scrap of sun, and the only thing you know is the feeling of the ropes on your hands and feet, tied to an ornate wooden chair that looks like it's been in the hotel for decades.
You've cycled through all the stages of grief and let out every variation of a cry that a human could. Eventually, they had become too much for him; they were insistent and annoying. So, calm as can be, he'd bent down at your side and stuffed his pristine handkerchief into your mouth.
You jerk against his grip—his strong, steely grip—and try to scream through the cloth. The sound is pathetic. You stare at his face, your eyebrows pinching together, trying to find a shred of humanity that doesn't exist.
"Hush now—look!" Gripping your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, he redirects your attention to the old television set on the ornate dresser. You blink, bleary-eyed, trying desperately to focus on the images that glow in front of you. As they come into focus, your stomach sinks.
A female newscaster delivers the evening news, but a picture of you enlarges, filling the screen. Underneath it, a tipline. You remember when that photo was taken—it was your friend's wedding. You're smiling, happy. You wonder who provided it.
"…authorities are still looking for information on the woman who disappeared late last Tuesday night…"
"There's my little television star!" His tone is elated and riddled with pride.
Your facial features contort with a muffled sob, and your head lolls weakly back against the chair, hot tears streaming down your temples.
"Ah," he says, sounding disappointed. "Now, now. You mustn't cry—your pretty face is known all over the city! I've known women who would die for fame like that, my pet."
You cringe at the mention of death. This isn't how you thought you'd go out.
He bends down at your side, staring directly at the side of your face. You straighten up and turn to him, focusing hard on his jaw-droppingly handsome features—the very same features that had gotten you in this predicament. God, if he only hadn't been a literal psychotic killer, you could've found yourself naked in his arms.
"Where's your sense of gratitude!? You're a household name!"
The look in those pitch-black eyes is almost endearing, if it weren't for the fact that he had you tied and gagged in a hotel room in the middle of Los Angeles. He looks delighted, like a proud director who has just seen his breakout starlet on screen.
"….pphhff… mmmmf… mmm-mmawww.."
James reaches up into your mouth, carefully pinching the fabric between his fingers and pulling it from between your teeth.
"…p-please…." you stammer. "See? I'm not just some drifter without a family; I have people who care about me."
Two dark brows lace closer on his forehead, a nearly pained expression on his face. "My dear… of course you do. You have someone who cares about you here. Very much. And that is why…"
He straightens up, reaching for something atop a nearby table. It catches the dim yellow lighting of the room, metal flashing in your peripheral. No…
