Summery: As ghosts, seeing your estranged lover is hard to do. Especially when your 'final resting spot' isn't the Cortez.
Themes: Fluff -> Smut -> Fluff, Cameo/Foreshadowing, Dead Dove Don't Eat, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood, Cussing, Devil's Night Shenanigans, Hotel Shenanigans, Lovey Dovey James, Murder, Pet Names (Darling, Dear, my Love, etc), Sassy!Reader (I've missed them), Sloppy Kissing/Sex, Stupid!Silly!James, Unprotected Sex (They're ghosts...),
Word Count:
Once a year, only once, does he get to see you. It's and unfortunate arrangement, but there's not much to do about it. You died outside the Hotel, which he didn't learn about till the next Devil's Night.
"Oh, dear, you must be more smart next time," He chimed in that annoyingly sweet accent of his. It would drip with condensation each time he would lecture you, and now you're forced to only imagine it until October 30th each year.
The vinyl spins as the man paces, knowing you'll be the first to arrive, even before John Lowe of all people. The door opens and we swings his head around, eyes wide as he spots you. Three long strides and he's at you, arm around your waist as he sinks his nose into your neck.
People say that March is a loving man, but they don't know the half of it. He's possessive, especially when it comes to his lovers, which he's had and has many of. James is nothing more than a growl-y mess when he's without a partner, and being unable to hear your voice, see your face, touch you... he's pent up.
"Darling, how I've missed you." He purrs, lips pressed against your pulse point, despite there not being a single beat in your chest. He nips slightly, pouting as you pull away.
"You're too much already, my love." You murmur. Something about James changes you, the way you think, the way you speak. If your heart were beating, it'd be racing.
The two of you are time capsules of two different eras, but when together, you intertwine like fibers of yarn. Two sides of the same coin, if you will.
"Can't a man hunger for a beautiful thing such as you?" He hums softly, his forehead against yours as he hums and chuckles, clearly excited to see you but trying to play it cool.
Your hand comes up to his face, "Yes, but I barely took two steps into the room, dear." You smile, watching him take your hand and twirl you around before pulling you against his chest, chin resting upon your shoulder. "James!"
"Ah, ah, my darling... Shut up a moment and let me enjoy your company before anyone else gets here." He says, a slight growl in his chest.
"Ridiculous..." You murmur, but don't move. His hands wrap tightening around your waist, a hand over your stomach and another rubbing up and down your arm.
"You adore it, however..." He whispers in your ear, a few soft kisses pressing against your temple. His arms constrict around you tighter, making you tense and arch your back and gasp out his name again.
Before you can say anything more, he presses his nose into the nape of your neck. You feel that his lips slightly parted, as if ready to sink teeth into you given the command. You stay in this position, not sound but your soft yet sharp breathe and his small chuckle.
"James..." You murmur, only to me met back with your name in a loving, singalong tone, lips moving against your skin as he speaks.
"You look ravishing, my love... Why, I could just... eat you up." He whispers, leaving small bites along the side of your neck.
You groan, your eyes rolling back as you relax in his arms, "I hate you." You whisper.
"On the contrary. I believe you're just as fascinated in me as I am you."
"Mayhaps, but only if you let me turn around and kiss you silly, dear."
With that you're turned around and pressed against the door, wet sounds of lips and teeth clashing filling the space between you both. His hands cup your face and holds it in place as he explores your mouth with his tongue, reminding himself of the shape and taste after a year of not having you.
You're still pinned against the wood as he pulls away, teeth clamped down on your lip. When your lip snaps back to your faces, it's bleeding. However, you're still smiling. He grins back at you, licking your blood off his lips.
"I've missed you more than life itself." He pants out, his hand around his ascot, loosening it.
"And I the same, dear." You murmur, your hands helping him get as little undressed as he needs. You're palming him through his briefs, his eyes rolling back.
"You are bewitching." He growls, taking his cock out before quickly moving to undo your own zipper. "I can't handle it any longer, you're intoxicating. As soon as you walked in-"
"Shut up, your dirty talk is a turn off." You hiss out before kissing him roughly. He gasps, kissing back and pulling you into his surprisingly strong arms.
"You'll regret saying that." He purrs, lining up with your hole. Before you can snap back, he pushes in. You gasp, your eyes rolling shut.
James pushes deeper, eyes boring down at you as he grunts out, smiling sadistically wide. You moan out, your eyes opening slightly to see him looking down before they roll shut again.
You moan out his name with each inch he pushes in and he responds in a grunt each time, his cock twitching. "You still wish for me to be silent?"
"No- maybe- fuck shut up-" You moan out, your back arching off the door. Something snaps inside of James and he pulls out, holding you in his arms before spreading you out on the closest surface.
"No, I don't think I will. I'm going to fill you up and make you walk around like that all night, love." He growls out, spitting into his hand before stroking it onto his cock. "You're mine, you know this?"
"Y-Yours..." You repeat, gasping as he enters you again.
"Exactly, darling. Mine." He growls out, leaning over you and biting your neck again, harder this time.
You moan out, the pleasure already too much. You know he can go for hours, but he's on a time crunch. He's faster, making your body tremble. He pumps in and out of you, filling the need you both had for the past 365 days.
"James- James, slow down-" You cry out, but he doesn't. He speed up, growling and grunting with each trust inside you. "James!" You cry out, your back and ass arching completely off whatever surface he placed you on.
"That's it, love. Scream for me." He says with a sadistic purr. "Let the whole floor know you're mine." He whispers into your ear, sending goosebumps down your entire body.
"James- Fuck, James I'm gonna-"
"Don't you dare..." He growls out, pounding harder. "You're not allowed release. Not after being such a rude little thing to me earlier. You're getting exactly what you deserve, darling.
"You can't cum, you can't even clean up before the rest of my lovely guests arrive. You'll be dripping all night. Is that what you want?"
You nod, biting your lip and whimpering as he speed up even more. His hips meet yours, the wet sound of skin slapping filling the room.
"If you cum, I'll have to punish you, you know this, yes?" He murmurs, panting as he looks down at you with wide, feral eyes, like a predator. You nod quickly, making him grin wider. "Good." He whispers in your ear before biting at your lope teasingly.
"I'm going to fill you up. You're such a good little toy. Darling, I'm going to- agh, you devil-" He groans, cock throbbing before you fill his release paint your insides.
You moan out sharply, eyes rolling shut. The both of you are frozen in time for a long moment, one that feels like it lasts forever. You finally feel him move, opening your eyes slowly to watch as he wipes himself before tucking himself away.
"Up. You must help me fix the decorations, dear. It is your fault they're ruined now." He mumbles, rolling his eyes as if he hadn't just fucked your brain out.
You stand up and he helps, gentle, unlike earlier. He pulls you into his arms for a brief moment, nipping your ear before whispering, "Mine" one last time.
As ordered, you realign the decorations, noticing the poker chips on the table in front of each seat. "Darling, what are these for?" You ask, holding one up and looking at it.
"These are vintage chips, my love. From the year I finished the hotel, to be exact. We'll have a game with those late." James grins,taking the chip back and placing it perfectly in it's spot.
You raise and eyebrow, looking at the time. You realize that no one has come in and the party is supposed to start soon. He pulls you aside and presses his face into your neck once more, kissing softly. "I'm sure I wasn't too rough, was I, dear?"
His voice is soft, almost sorry, but that isn't the kind of word you'd use to describe James often. You shake your head, pressing a small kiss to his forehead. "Course not, sweetheart."
That's when you hear a cough behind you, both you and your lover jumping slightly and looking towards the door. That's when you see him.
John Lowe stand in the door way, dead eyed smiling at both you. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
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Laughter and music could be heard from the top of the marvelous Hotel Cortez. Lights were hung up around the hotel as well as some trees decorated with beautiful crystal ornaments. In the recent years, James has allowed the holidays to be celebrated since he loved seeing how much fun you had. As you threw snowballs at your fellow ghosts, James sips on his hot chocolate, humming at the rich taste. While he was playing with his cup, you threw a snowball at his chest, taking him by surprise. “What on earth?” He shouts, his lips curling into an evil smile. James set down his cup and gathered snow into his hands. “Two can play that game, darling!” He said before hurling a snowball at your back. Hearing you laugh and try to throw more back at him, he chases you around. The other ghosts join in, hurling ball after ball at each other. Soon you all got bored and decided to settle down, telling stories of Christmas past. James recounts a time when his mother had gotten him a metal car instead of the wooden one he originally wanted. He expressed how ecstatic he was because the car he received on that morning was so much better than what he originally wanted. Of course, James left out the sad details of the story. His father had said horrible things to his mother when he found out how much the car was worth. James shook his head out of those memories as he listened to you tell many stories of your family and how many gifts you would receive because of how large your family used to be. He loved listening to you speak. He wanted to hear you all day and everyday. Well he could since you both were dead.
Soon the festivities came to an end, James thanking everyone for another fun Christmas celebration. Hand in hand, you and James went to your shared room. “Did you have fun tonight, my dear?” He asks you, kissing your hand gently. “I did, it was absolutely glorious. How about you?” Your hands make quick work of his shirt, hanging it up to dry. It was cold and wet from all the snow. “Of course. I got to see you have fun.” He says as he helps you with your own clothes. After bathing and slipping into warm nightwear, you both settle into bed. James frowns a bit as he notices that he felt colder than usual, pulling you close to him for warmth. “Are you alright? You’re shaking a little.” You ask, placing your palm on his chest. “Why yes, I’m just fine. A bit cold is all, my love. Let’s rest now, I’m awfully tired.” He said, yawning a bit before holding your hand on his chest. Kissing him briefly on his cheek, you both fall asleep.
The whole night was difficult for James. He was shivering and moving around, making you stir a bit once or twice. In the morning, you notice he’s not in bed. “Jimmy?” You call out, sitting up as you look around your room. Coming out of the bathroom and clearing his throat, he smiles a bit. “You’re awake, good morning. Is something wrong?” He says, drying his hands. He sounded odd to you. His normally silky deep voice now sort of…raspy. Frowning, you shake your head. “No not at all…the bed was just cold. James, are you alright? You look…sickly.” His skin looked clammy and even more pale than usual to you. “Oh yes, I’m alright-“ a short cough erupted from his chest. “Oh Jimmy…” you say, getting out of bed and pulling him close to you. “Don’t tell me you’re ill.” You say, cupping his warm cheeks. “No, dearest. I am perfectly fine.” He says, pulling away with a frown on his face. “Just too much yelling from yesterday’s activities.” He tried to convince you. He only called you dearest when he was agitated…or sick.
Your pleas for him to rest fell on deaf ears, making James a bit for agitated. “I’m far too busy. I’ll rest when I need to so please, don’t worry yourself too much.” He said, moving in to kiss your lips before hesitating and kissing your forehead instead. Your frown deepens as you watch him walk out of the room, cane in hand. Now James Patrick March was not the type to take a day off, you knew that. He just went on his daily duties as he normally did. Speaking to guests at the hotel became difficult, his throat hurting more and more by the second. He opted to just nod and keep the conversations short. The staff quickly noticed his now sour mood and made sure to steer clear from doing anything wrong. James wasn’t sick often but it was always difficult for them because he would become incredibly rude. Liz Taylor sighs softly as she listens to your complaints on how quickly he brushed you off this morning. “Darling, you and I both know he’s not going to give in. James is a…difficult person. Even the Countess didn’t want to associate with him when he would get sick.” She says, wincing a bit at the mention of the Countess. You were the only one that was truly considered a close friend, other than Liz, to the Countess. Recently, Liz and Elizabeth had an argument over some boy they both knew. Tristan Duffy. That boy was something else, you had to admit. “But Liz, this is like…another level. He’s even talking different. I’ve seen him twice today but he only nodded at me and left.” You say, sighing softly. “Men are like that. They don’t want to appear weak at all, especially that James.” She says, making you laugh a little.
Just then, you both watch as James stumbles into the bar. “The usual.” He says, panting a bit. His voice almost completely gone, his skin even more clammy, and his whole body shivering. You and Liz made eye contact, nodding as you both had a silent agreement. “Jimmy, no drinks for today. No more working either.” You say and watch his demeanor change. “Just give me my usual Liz Taylor.” James says, his tone demanding and dripping with irritation. You turn him to face you, warm hands on his very warm cheeks. Looking into his eyes you see the walls he’s made to conceal him being sick fall, him sighing and just laying his head on your shoulder. “I can’t…I’m too exhausted.” He mumbles and lets you lead him back to your shared room. James let’s you undress him and dress him back up in the warmest and softest clothes you could find. Laying down, he groans and coughs. “Dearest…” he says, his voice cracking. “Jimmy, that’s enough talking. Let me take care of you.” You say and gently run your fingers through his hair. Relaxing into the warm bed, he actually lets you. You had never done this before but you tried your best. His face turns sour as he drank the cold medicine, shaking his head. “Don’t be a child, Jimmy.” You say and dab at his sweating face. He grumbles and soon falls asleep, looking peaceful for a few moments.
When he opens his eyes again, it’s evening. You come in with a tray of food. “Oh good, you’re awake. Did you sleep well, honey?” You ask as you place the try down, coming up to check his temperature. “You’re finally at a more normal temperature…” you say and finally take a good look at him. “What?” You ask, tilting your head a bit. “Excuse my language but, as shitty as I feel…I would want to get sick again if it meant being taken care of by you.” He says, his voice now more normal. You blush and shake your head, kissing his cheek. “You’re too much. Now eat your food. I made it, it’s chicken noodle soup with bread. It’s my mothers recipe…it always helped me when I was sick. Also tea…iced because you’ll become too hot again.” You ramble, helping him sit up. “Sounds absolutely delightful…thank you my love.” He clears his throat before eating, nodding at the taste. “Tastes divine…I wish I had met your mother when she came by. When will she be coming back?” He asks, chewing on a soft carrot piece. “Next week actually. Hopefully you’ll be fully recovered by then…she’s turning 95 on Thursday.” You look down and play with the blanket. “She’s always asking about you…she always asks why I can never see her and why I look so young at 75.” You both laugh a bit, making him cough. “Wait until she finds out I’m 128.” He says and wipes his mouth. “She’d freak out.” You say and watch as he smiles fondly at you.
“I wish you could’ve met my father.” You say and held his hand. “He would’ve liked you…well no he wouldn’t because you’re 128.” You giggle and watch him roll his eyes. “I already met him, darling. He stayed here back in…when was it?” He says, thinking hard. “Ah yes, 1946. You weren’t born yet, to my understanding they were here on honeymoon. I’m surprised your mother didn’t recognize my name. I’m sure I said hello to them.” He says and sips on his tea. “Really? And here I am, girlfriend of the owner of the hotel they stayed at for their honeymoon.” You say and smile softly. “Girlfriend? You’re practically my wife.” He says, frowning at you. “Yes but technically we aren’t married nor engaged.” Rolling your eyes at him you take a piece of one of the slices of bread. “I suppose you’re right…you’re still my wife.” He says and checks the time. “I need to take more of that medicine you gave me. It’s been…6 hours?” He asks and watches you nod. You give him the medicine and laugh as he scrunched his face up at the taste. “You’ll fall asleep again soon.” You say and clean up, placing the tray elsewhere. “Sleep with me then. I missed your presence today.” He says and you obliged.
“What on earth would I do without you?” He asks and soon became drowsy. “I can’t believe…you’re mine…in sickness…” he doesn’t finish his sentence before falling asleep. “And in health.” You say before drifting off yourself.
Authors Note: yes i know it’s not christmas but for us ricans, Christmas doesn’t end until mid January. hope you guys liked this short little story!! i liked making this a lot because it’s so cute!!
If you’d like to be added to the taglist, dm me or comment!!
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Themes: Angst (Murder fic), Dead Dove Don't Eat, Open Ending, Torture, Blood, Gun mention, James being James, Pet Names, Stabbing, really short because writer's block sorry
Word Count: ~1.2k
You wake up, groggy and feeling almost... floaty? The last thing you remember was checking into a hotel, getting a free drink token and... nothing.
You look up, your wrists burning as you struggle with the rope that suspends you in the air, crying as you kick and whine out as you start to struggle even more. You swing side to side before you give up, panting and gasping for air.
"What an interesting creature..." You hear a dark, masculine voice, almost like vintage silk. You hear footsteps behind you, tensing as they stop right next to you. A cold touch traces your spine, a content hum coming from the man's lips.
You struggle to turn your head, your body seemingly limp from however long you've actually been hanging here, like a piece of meat. Suddenly, a pair of hands grab at your waist, the sound of someone stepping on a wooden step ladder echoing through the room.
The ladder wobbles, hitting the floor as the man behind you places his chin on your shoulder, whispering about into your ear, "You shouldn't be moving so much. You'll rub your pretty little wrists raw, and your hands might disconnect from your body."
You whimper, freezing as he pulls your suspended body against his. He's cold, his touch like dry ice; it burns in, not a psychical sense, but the kind that makes your bones chill and goosebumps roll over your skin.
Your eyes open slightly as you spin around, now facing the man. His hair is jet black, his eyes just as dark with nothing behind them. You groan, your mouth opening but nothing comes out.
"Aww, darling, no need for that," He says, pressing a finger against the bottom of your chin, flicking his wrist and pressing your agape mouth shut. "Don't need to waste any air speaking. I have so much to tell you anyways, and I do not like being interrupted."
He spoke with such diction that makes you speechless, almost entranced if you weren't so afraid for your well being.
The man takes his hands away, one shoved into the pocket of his vest, your eyes following. Looking over his outfit, he looks like he's taken straight out a documentary. Your eyes dart up to see his face again, your breathing short and hushed.
"My name is James Patrick March, and I'm the owner of this hotel. I built, you see... many years ago, we're eclipsing into it's 100th Year Anniversary," He starts, pulling a cigar and lighter from his pocket and lighting it, the burning foot just inches away from your face. He pulls the smoke into his lungs, pushing it out right in your face before he continued.
"Ever since my dear John Lowe was caught, we've taken a vow to not kill till then. But you, my dear... you're interesting. You're making me want to pick up my old hobby early." He smirks, leaning in closer to you, his head tilting to press his nose into your pulse point, loudly breathing you in. "So rich with fear...."
You cry out, struggling once again as every second becomes more and more fearful. He starts to laugh, grabbing at your throat. "Shush, shush.. no need to misbehave already. You're my guest in this here hotel, and I will makes sure your... accommodations are fit."
You flinch and wheeze as he holds you by the throat. Your eyes start to roll shut.
"Tut tut... much weaker than I thought, maybe I won't even make it to the anniversary with you... shame." He mutters, turning around and walking down the step ladder. You suddenly realize just how high up you are.
"Seriously, does no one nowadays have gumption? Back when I was alive, wow, some of my victims seriously had a voice. Well, when I didn't cut out their tongues or they expired too soon...
"Do you think you'll last, little one?" He says, his hand coming up to cup your calf, squeezing and examining you form the floor.
Before you can answer, he pushes you and makes you dangle in the air side to side, laughing softly. He walks over to a lever and you drop a few feet before stopping just as your feet hit the ground.
He laughs harder as you more a pathetic, scared yelp, grabbing a knife from a nearby table and stabbing into your leg, making you scream out even louder. "Yell all you like, no one can hear you. This floor and the two surrounding it are empty beside you, my lovely."
Every nerve in your body shoots with pain, your screaming becoming as loud as your throat lets it, the knife staying in your leg as he walks out, seemingly annoyed. You're left there for what feels like hours, loosing feeling in you arms by the point he comes back.
"Still-a kicking, darling?" He growls out, smiling as he picks your head up to look at him, "Good. Can't have you dying on my just yet." He purrs, yanking the knife out your leg and bringing it to your throat.
"You're going to be oh-so-good now, right? I let you down without any fun business and you lay on the bloody table over there," he growls out, pointing with his eyes. You nod before you can even realize what you're agreeing to.
He lets your arms fall, catching you while still chuckling. He growls in your ear, "No energy to walk, hm? No worries." He mutters as he picks you up and hauls you onto the slab, strapping you down and smiling wide as his eyes rack over you.
"Open your eyes," he pats your cheek, watching your head roll to the side. "Come on, stay with me, dear. I've barely done anything to you yet. Such a fragile little thing... Would you like me to let you sleep? Too bad."
He purrs as his knife traces up and down your body laughing softly. He doesn't do anything but scratch the surface, smiling wide as you sob.
"Maybe I can shot you a few times. I know I'll have to do that as a treat for myself, I'm unsure what a weak little thing like you can take..."
He murmurs, more to himself as you finally feel him stabbing into your other calf. "There. Now it's even. You with me, deary?"
You cry out, nodding as your heart races and beats in your head, vision red as you feel the intense pain.
"Say something... Say something!" He yells suddenly, "I can't be breaking my own rules and not be having fun!"
You open your mouth, groaning and hissing before finally saying, "I'm sorry."
It's quiet for a few moments until he turns around, running a hand through his perfectly swept hair."These is going to be a great couple of months..." He murmurs, looking down at you with a large grin, "I wonder if you'll last to Devil's Night..."