AHS Imagines

james march - first time

author's note:

- I have written James as I imagine him, being a bit of a gentleman/deeply cares for his love kinda vibe - not a rough, seductive, cunning type guy that some may interpret him as

- I wouldn't say this story contains smut, but possibly could be classified as lime?? I'm kinda new to this fanfic thing, so if you think I need to classify it as something else please just let me know :)

Anyway, enjoy!

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He sat on the bed beside you, softly caressing your hand. You two had been together for a long while now; you had both agreed on taking it slow.

"Are you sure you are ready, darling?" James asks you. "The last thing I want to do is to make you feel pressured to do something you are not comfortable doing."

"I'm good, James. I want to do this."

"Y/n..." He gives you a warm smile as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it gently. Despite the somewhat intimidating exterior, James is a sweetheart, a proper gentleman.

"My love, I want you to know that if there is anything I am doing that makes you uncomfortable," His eyes dart up to meet yours. "I want you to tell me. I..." He pauses and takes a breath. "I could never forgive myself if I hurt you in any way."

You nod in response and lean in to kiss him, but he pulls away.

"Wait." He gets up and walks over to the dresser, pulling out a few candles and hastily lighting them, before joining me once again. "There. I want to make this perfect for you".

"Aw. You are such a romantic. Just my type... I love you." You tell him sincerely.

He replies with a kiss, his touch courteous and delicate. Your heart begins to race, as you continue to press your lips to his. He tastes of sherry, and cigars.

"Your heart's beating like a hummingbird," James mumbles through the kiss, as he pulls away and begins to lightly run his lips along your cheekbone and neck. His touch is still soft, as though he's scared he may frighten you away. That's what's different about James; he respects you, unlike other men who have used you only to satiate their own lust. You begin to unbutton his shirt as he slides his braces off his shoulders and lets his slacks fall to the ground. His hands slide to your back and he gently unzips your dress. You gasp as his fingertips make contact with your skin. James instantly pulls away from you.

"Are you alright, dear?" he asks, looking concerned. Bless him. You respond with a tender kiss, and he lays the both of you down on the bed, and under the sheets. It feels exhilarating, to be with him. He pulls you close and your chest meets his, skin on skin. You run your hands through his hair as his find your waist. "You're so beautiful, y/n." James begins to trail kisses down the length of your body to your navel. Your insides flutter.

And then it happens. You feel exhilarated and alive. You can tell he is trying to be as slow and gentle as he can. James' hand is holding yours and your eyes meet, love gushing for one another, like a raging river, destroying all in its path.

...

And then it's over. James lies beside you, fiddling with the lacey strap of your bralette.

"How do you feel, my love?"

"Wonderful," you whisper. "And you?"

"Why, you're a revelation, darling. How could I feel nothing short of splendid?" He kisses you lightly. "Although, I am rather parched. Would you fancy a tea, dearest?"

"Oh, yes I would love one. Chamomile please."

"Certainly." James reaches over to the telephone sitting on the nightstand and calls up reception.

"I'd like to order some tea. I shall have one chamomile and one black, very strong, please. Who is this? How do you bloody well not recognise my voice? It's Mr March! And do make haste!" He places the phone down and sighs. Not five minutes later, there's a knock at the door.

"My, that was fast!" You remark.

"Well, being the owner of this hotel certainly has its perks." He smirks. James stands up and strides to the door.

"James!" You gasp, dropping your eyes down, as though to alert him.

"Oh!" He blushes and quickly slips on a robe.

James returns to the bed with a tray of steaming hot tea. You sip the hot liquid, warming your throat.

"I'm so glad my lady enjoys this fine delicacy as much as I." He sets his cup down and takes your hands. "You mean the world to me, you know, y/n."

"And you mean the world to me, James Patrick March."

The two of you finish your tea and then lie together, embraced in one another's arms. You feel yourself drift off.

How lucky you feel, to have him.

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