Everything Could Be Okay Part 1
Imagine: You and G finally think you have it all. The fame. The fortune. The relationship. The Passion. It should all be ok right?
Rated: PG13 but that can always Fuckin’ Change!
“Babe? Baby? G. Young Gerald? Gerald! ATTENTION G-EAZY!” He finally snaps up from his computer to give you an annoying side eye that he only gives you when you call him by every name he has.
“Eww gross! Don't give me that look,” you snap at him playfully causing him to smirk. Oh that infamous smirk. It sends girls into a tizzy and makes your heart skip two beats every time he flashes it in your direction.
“Yes Baby Girl?”
“Eww don’t call me that either.” You said this half jokingly only because Baby Girl was the term he used for any girl that he either didn’t know their name or didn’t care to use it. It was his way of being charming but it really grinded your gears when he called you it. He knew this; but of course, he had to say it only because he loved how it got you pissed.
“Sorry, Doll Baby,” he said with that same smirk as always, but adding a lip bite to drive you absolutely mad with desire.
“That’s more like it Babe. Now I need to know how many people you invited over so I can figure out if I should cook or call a caterer.” You were planning an album release party for the new stuff G was putting out. He still didn’t know when he was releasing it but hopefully by Friday night he could get it together.
“I don’t know Doll like a fuck ton I guess?”
“A fuck ton haha. How are we supposed to fit a fuck ton in the backyard? L.A backyards aren’t that big.”
“Challenge accepted! We will have a fuck ton and see how many can fit! And if the neighbors try and call the cops then..”
“They’re bitches and got you Fucked Up?!” You say coyly as you roll your eyes at the beautiful handsome man you grew to love.
It was never supposed to happen between you two. He was this big time rapper and you a ghost writer that didn’t care about all that. You prided yourself on being an indy hippie with a gangster mind so the glitz and the glamour was very off putting for you. He loved the stuff you wrote and insisted on meeting you. You politely rejected him and his team more than a few times until one day he popped up unannounced at a studio session you had with Keisha Cole. She had needed help for a song that she had in mind showing love for the Bay Area, and who walked in not even 15 minutes into the session? Mr. Bay Area himself. She introduced you two and he, being the asshole that he is, started in on you.
“So this is the chick that won’t work with me huh? ˙Her little hippie self doesn't feel up to par with the Big Ballers, Ey Baby Girl?” You had told him not to call you that even then and kindly explained to him how if you wanted to work with a greasy haired, love for booze and women, playboy then you would have gotten into contacts with Bieber. You had also added in how you liked to leave a message in your writing for the greater good, and not just talk about hoes and needing that Henny. He respected your wit and insults, bugged you for your number and texted you non-stop. It eventually got to the point where he found you at a LA club with your friends, dancing with some guy to his music, and he stole you away. He literally stole you away, it was actually more like kidnapping. You had wound up in his car, on the way to his house. You were drunk and couldn’t keep you hands off of him so you wound up having a little sleep over and the rest is history.
“Yes they’d have me fucked up!” His response broke your momentary flashback.
“Fine then haha I’ll just have to call a caterer and have them prepare a fuck ton of food. Or we could just have a taco man, In-N-Out truck, Pink’s Hot dogs and buy a whole lot of Booze and Jarritos?”
“Definitely plan number two! Just remember extra booze and maybe some bud. This is why I fucking love you! You know me so damn well, you’d have all my favorites for something so special to me.” He bent down and pecked your lips, and just as you were about to walk away to make the preparations, he pulls you back and kisses you deep. You give him the satisfaction, and allow him to deepen the kiss only to pull away from him just as it was on the cusp of getting good.
“Hey!” “What?”
“Why’d you pull away?”
“That’s what you get for not answering me ya dick!” He put his hand over his heart and acted shocked. His shock then turned into that damn smirk and he ran right at you.
“Come here you little shit!” You squealed cutely and ran up the stairs having G hot on you ass!
To Be Continued
I know I’ve been M.I.A for forever and a Day, but I’d love to hear from those who like the imagines! Let me know if you’d like to have me write a whole other imagine on how you guys met. Also, I am open for any suggestions that you might have and would love to expand on anything you’d like to read about!