The Way I'll Let James March Make Me Do Insane Things Until I Question My Own Sanity.

The way I'll let James March make me do insane things until I question my own sanity.

i have important exams on monday, i'm about to pull off a kay chung type of studying

smash

The mind of an introvert is a double-edged sword.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever put on lube before, but it’s not like there’s a layer of Vaseline on you; it’s just almost like your skin is super smooth and slick; it feels kind of gross, but at the same time, you feel really well moisturized. You’re not like, “Ew, get it off of me.” You’re more like, ‘This is kind of gross. I want to get this off as soon as possible. But maybe I can stop and get a sandwich first.’” —Evan Peters on wearing the Rubberman suit

jpm angst where he loves the reader but reader doesnt love him back, i love ur writing btw!!

thank you so much for this request and ur kind words! sorry for the long wait, love! i love writing for james, but im so nervous that i wont deliver correctly, so i hope i do this justice! an; 18+ mentions of murder, drugging, murder-suicide (it’s literally james) - pls don’t read if you don’t like dark themes please! r doesn’t love james but uses him

it’s whispered among others, the glaringly obvious truth that james patrick march loves you - absolutely adores you and your entire being.

every little thing you do, say, and act, makes james swoon, heart skipping a beat. a man reduced into a pile of mush.

yet, you, someone who knew their worth, had high authority with just a simple walk, despised the man. you had him wrapped around your finger with a simple red lipped smile, all sharp and conniving, in a single night.

the man falls hard, and fast, so it was nothing.

and putting up the act as if you loved him was easy. he had the looks, money, business.

extravagant clothing was bought and hung inside your closet every week. the most expensive red wine and some chocolate that were imported were placed on your bed.

too bad he wouldn’t be around long enough before you had to move onto another one.

yet, james had a plan. a plan that would intertwine your souls together forever - a plan that would make him happy for the rest of his life.

dinner was the most extraordinary, your favorite wine, and dessert.

“how did you like your dessert, dear?” his accent makes your skin crawl, fingernails dragging along the side of the glass as you nod.

you head felt heavy and you blinked slowly. “uhm,” you clear your throat, shifting in your seat. “it was tasty, love.”

there’s a sudden heat that surges through your body that has you shifting in your seat again from the sudden pricks that felt like needles in your skin.

“you look a bit pecked, dear. is everything alright?”

you hum, words feeling delayed as they leave your mouth. “i…i’m not feeling too well,” you breath out. “i think i… i think i might go rest.” you place the cloth that rested on your lap on the table.

you slowly stand, fingertips dragging along the table. your knees suddenly buckle, but before you fall, james is catching you. arms wrapped around your waist, he holds you up against his chest.

rough fingertips grip at the softness of your jaw, holding your limp head.

“i got you…” it’s whispered but it sounds as if it was underwater. “forever, love.” his thumb traces up and down your side, his lips pressing against your cheekbone with the utmost warmth.

when you fully come to, you realize that you can’t move your hands and your fingers are fuzzy. it’s cold and smells weird wherever you are and there’s a heavy lamp that was shining over your body.

it causes you to sweat from the heat radiating off from the bulbs. your head snaps over towards the door that opens, someone stepping inside.

that someone being james.

“what are you doing?” you seethe, teeth clenched and arms yanking at the restraints on your wrists.

“oh, my darling,” he steps closer. his hand, gentle with touch, drags across your throat. he hums at the feel of your pulse quickening by his touch.

which is what he thinks.

your actually afraid for the first time.

it was nothing like the first time you saw someone murder another human - your mother being sick and tired of your father, and all the mental abuse and exhaustion that had come from the man, sound of gurgling come from his throat made your fingers grip at the door as you watched from the study.

and you felt excited then, a weird feeling, but a man who deserved it? it made you want to carry out what she had started.

now you’re pulse quickens for a different reason. and that’s not from the excitement of giving a sick man what he deserves.

“we are going to be together. forever and ever,” he leans down, breath hitting your cheek. he watches as your chest quickens, eyes cutting over to him. “i’m never going to let you go.” he whispers.

it happens too quickly, the feeling of a blade slicing across your throat, a gasp leaving your lips as you try to wriggle from the restraints.

blood stains his shirt from you.

the last thing you see is the door opening and blood spraying from james’ neck as he falls forward.