Jealousy [James March x Reader]

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Written by holylangdon on Tumblr, give them a follow!

Pairing: James March x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, implied sexual content and jealousy

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“Love, I’m only going to see an old friend. It’s nothing major.” You sigh, slipping your last earring in. James stands behind you, his hands resting comfortably on your hips.

“You’re missing the soiree!” He exclaims. You turn around, facing your lover.

“I’ll only be gone a few hours. He can only leave the house tonight, you know that.” James hums in response, planting a small kiss on your lips. It quickly turns into a heated, passionate one- the kind that usually lead to you not being able to walk straight for a few days. “You’re trying to distract me.”

You step from under him, glancing yourself over in the mirror. James sighs in defeat, knowing that keeping you home would only fuel the fire. He kisses you one more time, leading you downstairs and outside the building, as far as he could go.

Within a half hour, you’re nervously walking up the brick path to the large front door. As you reach the front porch, you wonder if this was a good idea. Raising your hand to the door to knock, the door opens gently, revealing an older lady.

“Hello dear,” She says. Her voice is sweet, polite. “Are you here for someone?”

“I’m here to see Tate, ma’am.” She laughs and lets you into the house. Tate is sitting on the stairs, music blaring out of his headphones. As the lady closes the door, he looks up, smiling.

You’re not really sure how to say how you met Tate. You could say that you met through James, but that would be a stretch. Tate came to the hotel the night before the shooting, and Sally gave him something. You were mad at James, so you got heated with him. James saw, so you stopped, and you and Tate just talked for the next few hours until he had to leave. Little did you know, it was to shoot up a school.

He greets you and drags you up the stairs to the almost-empty bedroom. For some reason, it still had a bed and a few tables, two or three old sitting chairs.

“So, how are you?” He asks.

“I’m great. How’s the house been treating ‘ya?” You regret asking that as soon as it came out of your mouth. Of course the house was shitty, everyone within a ten mile radius knew that house was cursed.

He laughs. “Are you still with James?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re ‘together,’ but yeah.” You smile, thinking of how your lover. Your smile falters as you remember how you left him on his favorite night of the year. It was okay, though, because you’d attended each one for the past three years.

“You’re together.” Tate smirks. You didn’t even know what dirty things were running through his head. The two of you talk for hours about who-knows-what until you’re very overdue to return home.

“Thanks for tonight,” You sheepishly smile. “I really needed an escape from the Cortez for a while.”

Tate leans against your car, and before you know it, his lips are on top of yours, his hands wrapped around your waist. You jerk your head away quicker than it started, ignoring his apologies. Soon enough, you’re laid out on your shared bed in the hotel.

“Dearest,” James sings. “Devil’s night was a success!” You smile from your spot on the bed, staring at the man in front of you. He might’ve killed hundreds, possibly thousands, of people, but damn, was he gorgeous.

“Good.” He sits on the bed next to your waist.

“How was your visit?” In that moment, you were convinced he knew. If you confirmed it, he’d forbid you from seeing Tate for the rest of your life, and that was not an exaggeration.

“Good.” You say again, adjusting your body to look at his face.

“You think I don’t know when another man has invaded my woman?” James’ voice stays emotionless. “You were out until three in the morning with him.” His voice is filled with jealousy, and it makes you regret that you ever went.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper. “It was over-”

You’re cut off by James’ lips on yours. This time, you kept his hands on your sides, melting into him. He lets out a low grumble. “You’re not going to be able to utter a single syllable for the next two nights.

And you were completely fine with that, too.

~  𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 ~Where stories live. Discover now