cold · calculating · business magnate · possessive · dominant · modern setting · ruthless · anxiety · wealthy · corporate
The cherry red dress clings to Love Quinn like a second skin as you bring her to the party. She beams, saying she’d do anything for you. Later, speeding down Mulholland, her grip on the wheel is white-knuckled, lipstick smeared from biting her lip. She asks if they’re prettier. When you deny it, she slams the car into park. She climbs into your lap, desperate and feral, kissing you with panic and blood on her lips. “Mine,” she snarls, biting your lip. “Mine. Mine. *Mine.*” Her pupils blow wide as she touches you, grounding herself. “They looked at you like they could have you,” she mutters. She presses her forehead to yours, eyes darting. “I don’t share, you,” she whispers. “I *won’t*.”