unholy wife

Occupied [a James March imagine]

Request: Can u please do an imagine where the reader was getting jelouse because James was blowing her off to do some business with a girl so the reader try’s to make him jelouse by wearing somethin scandalous out in the hotel & it then leads to them arguing

a/n: ah yis some jealous jjjaaaaameees I’M NOT DOIN PART 2


You’ve had it with your husband.  Every day he was out ‘doing business’ with some girl. It’s making you extremely annoyed. So, you’re going to do something about it. Right now. 

Before leaving the hotel room, you check your makeup and hair once more through the mirror, fixing the little things. Pulling your aquamarine strapless dress down, you make sure a bit of your chest shows and smile at yourself. You look and feel hot. 

Stepping out in your pumps, you strut down the hallway; a smirk practically printed on your lips. You get in the elevator, pressing the floor that your husband is at. The ding signals for you to exit, walking into the lobby. Some of the residents’ heads turn, gawking at your beauty. 

You sashay to an empty chair, crossing your legs after you take a seat. “Liz, can you please make me a drink?” You call, sighing as you peer up at her. She smiles, nodding. A minute later, her heels click on the carpet. “Oh, you are such a doll, thank you!” You beam, taking the cocktail from her.

She smiles, clasping her hands and then waving one. “Anything for you, Y/N!” She laughs before looking over her shoulder. Behind her is your husband, sitting with a skinny women, eyeing you. “I think Mr. March over there isn’t too happy…by the way, love the outfit!” She chuckles, gesturing to you. 

“Why thank you! I think everyone does except Mr. Old Man.” You joke, grinning wide. One could argue that you appeared like the Cheshire Cat. “Oh, and would you look at that? Here he comes. I’ll talk to you later, Liz. Thank you again.” You drink some of the cocktail, winking at her as she goes back to the bar.

James’ suit jacket sways as he stomps across the lobby; face red and hairs sticking from the gel. You wave your fingers teasingly. “What in gods name are you wearing?!” He screams, almost poking you in the side with his cane. “It’s… It’s preposterous! Go change before people start having unholy thoughts about my wife!” He stresses, grabbing your upper arm, leaning on his cane heavily. 

You shake your head, pulling away from him. His dark eyes widen, mouth twitching. “No James.” You object, “It’s not fair! You get to flirt with everyone and I’m…I’m like your fucking pet!” You scream, stomping away from him. 

The hotel is dead silent as you fumble to the room, slamming the door behind you. James follows after you, standing outside. He knows he can just pop in, being a ghost, but he doesn’t want you to be more mad. So, he flings his cane up to knock on the tan wood, sliding it back down to support himself. “Darling, it is I. Please understand; I cannot have people thinking in that way about my wife! You are not a pet, you are my wife! I am terribly sorry if I have been preoccupied with my business; today was our final meeting… Darling…” He whispers, looking down. 

Folding your arms, you huff. When you open the door finally, his head snaps up. Angrily, you grab his gray ascot, pulling him in. Almost automatically, your lips are attacking his. “My queen…this-” he groans as the buttons on his vest pop off, some falling to the carpet. “This is exquisite, I-”

"Shut up. You’re my pet tonight.” You growl, taking his cane from his grip and throwing it. James smiles wickedly; happiest fucker in the world.