#pop star!reader x artrick

[cupidsarrcws]

i’m in my famous!reader era soooo

imagine being like this rising pop star, being the new sex symbol in music, and being the absolute party girl. your publicist is absolutely fed up with you and your team is starting to think you have a drug problem after showing up to some of your studio sessions looking zoned out and sluggish.

you’re young, you’re stupid, and you’ve definitely made some bad decisions— but you’re famous, a dream you’ve had since you were nine. you’ve wanted to sing your heart out ever since you. old speak and this was your chance.

were you blowing it slightly? yes! but you were living in the moment and your fans love how careless you are (even if their parents don’t exactly enjoy the message you’re sending to their children).

you’re out for the night in some college bar, ignoring every call from your publicist, and dancing with some guy you barely just met when they caught your eye from across the room.

a blonde and brunette, staring at you intensely as you swayed your hips. you smirked softly, ignoring the guy calling out after you as you walked away. he was only good for some free blow and shots. you stopped in front of them and looked between them, taking in their looks and expressions.

“you look like cute little mice,” you giggled, sniffling and rubbing your nose. the blonde blushed while the brunette playfully rolled his eyes.

“we do not look like mice. we’re grown men.” that earned a chuckle from you, leaning down and looking at the drink in the blondes hand. “may i?” you asked, taking a sip out of the straw while making eye contact with him. you could’ve sworn that he just had a heart attack with the way he was looking at you so intensely. you pulled away and looked over at patrick, then down at his cigarette that was hanging in his hand.

you leaned forward and he met you halfway, letting you take a drag from it before you blew the smoke into his face.

“where do i know you from?” patrick asked, both of them leaning forward. you were almost tempted to lean in all the way but were pulled out of your trance when you heard your song started to play, groaning softly and tilting your head forward.

your buzz was officially killed.

“you don’t like this song?” art asked, his voice being drowned out by the people who were singing along to it. you chuckled softly, pushing your head up and leaning in closer to them.

“i wrote it.”

you stood up, looking around the club for the girls you tagged along with but they were no where to be found. just some fucking groupies who wanted a chance to say they partied with you.

“well, it was fun meeting you boys, but i should go before my publicist drags me by my hair.”

you begin to turn around but then feel a hand wrap around your wrist, turning your head back to see the brunette standing along with his best friend.

“come back to campus with us,” he said, causing you to raise your eyebrows as you looked between them.

“come back to a school i’ve never been to with two guys i’ve never met? no thanks.” you try to pull your hand away but he stops you, smirking playfully.

“i’m patrick zwieg, and this art donaldson, stanfords best tennis player,” he teased, chuckling as his friend slaps his shoulder. “we won’t try anything, we just wanna continue talking.”

you look between them again, contemplating just kneeing him in the balls and making a run for it… but you were already in trouble anyway, your team couldn’t get a hold of you, you were supposed to be in bed hours ago, and you needed to ride out your high somewhere.

“fine… but if you guys try anything, i’ll personally castrate you.”

they smirked and led you out of the club, walking by your side as you made your way back to the dorms.